Oscar Night by Jennifer Brock

A flippant remark by a mild screenwriter to an obnoxious TV reporter snowballs into more than he had bargained for, at one of the most glamorous of events! (There's no actual TG stuff in this first part, but there will be. I promise.)

This is a work of fiction. Any similarities to actual persons alive or dead are purely coincidental, mostly.
Note that this story takes place in a time when Hollywood’s writers did not go on strike.

David Fine was still reeling with the sudden fame of having a second novel on the Bestsellers’ List, and now his adapted screenplay for his first novel, “Sublimation,” had been nominated for an Academy Award. His agent had negotiated the sale of the film rights to allow him to submit the first treatment before the studio shipped it out to other screenwriters, and the producers actually liked what he did with it, and now it turns out the academy liked it too! With the film for his second novel “Condensation” already under production, David felt like he’d finally made it.

L.A. was completely unlike the small Ohio mill town he’d spent most of his life in. His agent had found him a nice little bungalow in the Hollywood hills, but he was having trouble fitting in with the west coast scene. He’d only made one new friend so far — Claude Marsh, an up and coming fashion designer, who had arranged to do the costumes on “Sublimation.” He was a big fan of the novel and jumped at the chance to share in bringing his cherished characters to life. David and Claude met in an early production meeting for the film, and ended up forging a fast friendship based on mutual appreciation of the other’s work. Claude also helped David out socially, helping him hobnob with Hollywood society, occasionally fixing him up with models from his runway shows as his escort to the fancier events. Claude quickly called to congratulate him when the nominations were announced.

The Oscars ceremony was a whole new level of Hollywood social event, and David was completely out of his element. In his congratulatory phone call, Claude tried to calm him down. “Relax, David. I can help you out every step of the way. I can give you pointers on what to say to the press; I think I can get Maritza, you remember that leggy brunette you appreciated from my Milan show, to accompany you down the red carpet. And I insist on making you a custom tuxedo, appropriate for the biggest night of your life.” David accepted all of Claude’s offers, which would ultimately lead him in a direction he’d never expected.

***

So, when the big night arrived, Claude showed up at David’s townhouse in a rented limousine, accompanied by Maritza, a tall Venezuelan model he remembered seeing in one of Claude’s shows. She was stunning, in her three-inch heels she was taller than David, so he had to tilt his head up to see her eyes, so dark they were nearly black - they captivated him when she smiled her hello. She was dressed in a shimmering gold gown that was suspended only by the thinnest of straps that crisscrossed in the middle of her back. It slithered gracefully down her every contour, and she had contours aplenty - Claude bucked the trend of using famine-stricken heroin addicts shaped like thirteen-year-old boys as models, preferring softer more feminine curves for displaying his creations.

The long wavy brown hair that he remembered from the catwalk was piled up on top of her head, allowing her shoulders to be appreciated, with only a few corkscrew tendrils escaping from the knot. Her jewelry for the occasion was a pair of glistening ruby earrings in a teardrop shape, with a matching pendant that rested where David’s eyes lingered. She was light years out of his league — there was no way a vision like her would ever be interested in a regular date with a nobody like him, but at least he had this one special event to enjoy her company while he could. Claude interrupted the tableau to pour Maritza a glass of wine and show her to the sitting room where she could wait, while he herded David into the bedroom with a garment bag: “Let’s get you dressed.”

The tuxedo that Claude had designed was a bit unorthodox, but David trusted his friend’s taste. The shirt was crisp white linen, with six vertical pleats on each side of the front buttons. Its gold cufflinks had small square rubies which nicely echoed his date’s jewelry. Instead of the usual black, the jacket and pants were of a deep red wine or maybe more of a cranberry colored soft woolen blend. The cut was very flattering on David’s rather average figure, but he was a little uneasy about the color. “Are you sure about this, Claude?”

His friend was very reassuring. “Trust me on this. Would I steer you wrong? Color is the next big thing. Besides, when you make your entrance you’ll be on the red carpet, and its color is so bold, you’ll look just barely tinted in contrast! The tie and cummerbund are black, if it’s any consolation.”

“But I look like a pimp!”

“No you don’t. You look fine. You’re just nervous about the award.”

Eventually, Claude was able to convince him that he’d fit in just fine at the awards, and David was able to calm down. A pair of pointed-toe black Italian calfskin shoes completed the outfit. Claude had originally planned on tying David’s longish hair back with a ribbon into a little ponytail, Revolutionary War style, but he decided not to push his luck, and just ran a few drops of gel through to slick his hair back.

When Claude brought him out to his escort, David noticed that Maritza had been flipping through the manuscript he’d left out on his desk while she was waiting for him to get ready. She looked up when they entered the room, gave him the once over, and clucked her tongue in a sound of approval. “Very sharp. I like the color.” Realizing she’d been caught looking at his papers, she added “I hope you don’t mind me peeking. Claude got me hooked on your other books to help with my English, and I couldn’t help myself to see what your next one will be.”

Knowing that this angel liked his words banished all thoughts of his new suit. “That’s ok, but that copy’s just a draft with notes from my editor written all over it — it’ll be better when it’s finished. I’ll make sure you get a copy. Your English sounds fine to me. I can’t hear any accent.”

“I’ve been working in America since I was fourteen, but sometimes when I get excited or nervous, you can tell I didn’t speak English as my first language.”

Claude wanted to pout, since David never let him read his drafts, but let it go. He hurried them out to the car, where the driver was looking bored, rushing to hide the issue of Variety he’d been reading. In Hollywood, everyone’s secretly a frustrated actor. Claude told the driver to let David and Maritza off at the red carpet, and then take him to his home in Brentwood where he’d be hosting a party to watch the awards. Claude didn’t like attending big Hollywood media events like the Oscars, where he couldn’t be the center of attention since so many movie stars would be there. He wished David luck when they arrived at the Chandler Pavilion.

***

The Red Carpet was a whole new experience for him. Taking Maritza’s arm, he tried to ignore the sea of flashbulbs and walk on past. “Who are you wearing?” he heard the paparazzi shout. David wasn’t sure if they were talking to him, but his companion knew what to do.

“Claude Marsh,” she called out, giving a slight twirl. Of course, neither of the couple was an A List celebrity, so the reporters really didn’t care.

Further down the carpet, the TV reporters crowded the ropes. David knew he wasn’t famous enough for them to bother, so he was ready to just stroll past when he was stopped. “You there in the Santa suit! Aren’t you that writer guy?” He turned. It was Jane Waters, the notorious “fashion reporter” from that Hollywood news cable channel. She made her name as an insult comedienne back in the eighties, so her fashion reports tended to consist primarily of her making fun of what people were wearing. Unfortunately for our hero, she had found her next victim. She called him over.

Not knowing how to get out of it, David went back to where Jane was set up. “Yes, I’m David Fine, the writer guy. This lovely lady is Maritza Delgado, one of the shining stars of the catwalk.”

She wouldn’t be distracted. “Whatever. I want to talk about your red suit. What happened? You lose a bet or something?”

“No. A friend of mine made me this.” David was confused. Claude had told him this was fashionable.

“Is your friend a lounge singer? You look like you belong in a piano bar at a two-bit hotel by the airport. No sane man would dare wear anything but a black tuxedo to a prestigious event like this!” Now she was lecturing at him like he was five. “Don’t you see all the other people going into the auditorium? Look around — all the men are in black tuxes. The only color you see is in the gowns on the women. Whatever gave you the idea that you could wear a red suit?”

“It’s a very dark red,” he tried.

“Not dark enough, Buddy. Maybe you book guys don’t go to too many black tie affairs, but the dress code is something everyone in Beverly Hills knows.”

“Well, my tie _is_ black.” He was getting flustered.

“That doesn’t matter. All the other tuxes on the actors, producers, directors, everyone, including the other writers that don’t get out much, are black. Let’s look around.” She pointed to other people processing down the red carpet: “He’s in a black tux; he’s in a black tux; and even that little fruity actor and his boyfriend over there are in black! But you do see a whole rainbow of colors on the women that are with them. She’s in a blue Versace gown; she’s in a beautiful lavender Donna Karan; there’s a silver Vera Wang, over there’s a classic beauty in a vintage Halston in a more exciting shade of red than yours, and here’s a lovely golden Whatshisname gown beside you. In fact, if you wanted to wear a different color than black, you should have just worn a gown and you’d fit in perfectly.” She laughed at her own joke, a dry braying that couldn’t be ignored.

David was getting irritated, wondering why she wasn’t off bothering some real famous person, instead of picking on some poor novelist, even if he is wearing a pimp suit. He couldn’t let her know he actually agreed with her that wearing a red tuxedo was a mistake, so he thought he could toss off a witty sound bite and beat her at her own game. “I’ll tell you what, Jane. If I’m nominated again next year, I’ll wear a gown. But now I’ve really got to get into the theater.” He turned to Maritza and walked boldly on down the carpet. Jane was dumfounded and couldn’t come up with a reply fast enough for her camera to catch.

His casual remark would come to haunt him.

Watching at home on the widescreen television he’d rented for his Oscar party, Claude was dumbfounded. That cow knows nothing about fashion! How could she do that to poor David? He didn’t deserve her mockery. And to forget Claude’s name was the biggest insult of all! But at least David had gotten the last laugh. Or did he? For the rest of the night, every time she interviewed a man, she’d comment on the blackness of his tuxedo, and ask each woman if she thought her gown would look good on “a stupid writer guy.” He hid his anger behind a mask of “congenial host,” and the six appletinis that he consumed during the red carpet portion of the program rendered him nicely toasted by the time the actual awards rolled around.

But inside, he plotted his revenge. He was going to have to find some way to make that no-talent “fashion critic” eat her words. If David did get nominated again the next year, (and the buzz about “Condensation” was good enough that it just might happen) Claude was going to have to design his best creation ever, one that would knock Jane Waters’ support hose off!

***

David didn’t win. The prize for adapted screenplay went to a couple who’d turned a news article about flooding in the Heartland into a movie that focused on one family’s struggle to save their farm from the rising waters of the mighty river. He graciously applauded his opponent, but couldn’t help but be disappointed.

Maritza shared in his loss. When the clapping was over, she leaned over and whispered in his ear. “You should have won. They do not know what they are doing, voting for that mud picture!” She then kissed him, giving his earlobe a nibble. “I will just have to see what I can do to cheer you up when I take you home.” She punctuated this sentence by giving the top of his thigh a playful squeeze.
Were there other awards given that night? David couldn’t tell you; his brain was stuck in an image that it couldn’t release — a beautiful, sexy model was flirting with him, and promising... things. She was gorgeous beyond anyone he’d ever been with, and the idea of a one-night stand with her was occupying all his attention. He really had no idea what was going on onstage, and didn’t applaud with the rest of the crowd when he was supposed to.

As the Lifetime Achievement Award was being presented, Maritza had to nudge David to stand up with the audience to show respect for the gifted director whose films had brought appreciation to generations. She was worried, since he hadn’t been paying attention to all the spectacle going on. It seemed as though he’d become withdrawn and depressed after he didn’t win. He was a good man, and she didn’t like to see him sad. Although less rugged than the men she usually dated, there was something about him that interested her. He was cute in his way, if a little soft and short for her taste. But he was sweet and smart, and from the way he wrote the characters in his books she could tell he really understood women. And the way Claude had talked of him; she knew he was a good friend. There was real potential there. Her plan was that she’d check out how good he was in bed that night, and see if it would be worth pursuing anything long term.

Unfortunately, their evening would have a different ending. When they left the pavilion, their limo driver had some difficulty working around the traffic, which allowed them some time for conversation. Maritza leaned over onto his shoulder and tried talking to him about all the movie stars she’d seen, but David was so nervous he just made one word comments, and she couldn’t really draw him out. Neither of them was really feeling up for going to anyone’s after party. Thinking he was still down, she turned and kissed him firmly and deeply, thinking it could get his mind off his trouble. He was shocked, and at first he responded a little stiffly, but then he realized that he was blowing it with his dream girl, so he relaxed and returned the kiss. One kiss led to another, and soon it didn’t matter that he was having trouble talking to her. He reached out his arms and held her, although he wasn’t confident enough to let his hands explore her exciting contours very much.

But faster than either of them realized, the limousine pulled into David’s driveway. David was flustered and clumsily broke the embrace like a teenager whose father had just turned on the lights. The driver came around and opened the car, and David steeped out and then turned to give his date a hand getting out of the car. He asked clumsily, “Would you like to come in?” She giggled at his awkwardness and reminded him that she’d already told him she was coming in. He had absolutely no experience with women this forward, so he blushed. Maritza found it cute and charming, but then noticed the driver standing there and had to whisper to David that limo drivers usually get a tip before they leave. He blushed again, grabbed his wallet, and gave the driver a twenty. Having been paid, the driver thanked them, tipped his cap and drove off. David escorted Maritza to the door, and almost couldn’t find the right key, but when he took hold of the doorknob, he saw that the door wasn’t locked. This wasn’t good.

Upon cautiously entering the house, he saw that Claude was there sitting on the couch! David regretting giving him a key that time he went on a book signing tour and needed someone to water his plants. Claude was very excited about something. “Oh good, you’re home! We have to get started as soon as possible on a plan! A year is scarcely enough time to get you ready. Oh, Maritza, I didn’t see you there. Could I get your jewelry back, since you’re here anyway? It’s on loan.”

David tried to ask, “Claude, what are you doing here? I have no idea what you’re talking about, and you seem more than a little drunk. Can I call you a cab?”

Maritza just stood there, getting irritated that her plans were being interrupted.

But Claude wasn’t listening. “I’ve got some preliminary sketches here! We’ll show that ignorant bitch she doesn’t know who she’s messing with! When we’re done you’ll be the hottest thing ever to strut down the red carpet!”

David looked from his friend to his date and back, trying to figure out how to get the crazy drunk guy out of his house, and not ruin his evening. “Claude, I’m not sure what you’re going on about, but I’m sure it can wait until tomorrow. But you’re a little drunk, so I’m going to get you a cab to take you home. Maritza, I’m sorry. Once I get him out of here we can…”

Claude cut him off. “What? You think you have a shot with her?” He laughed. “She’s a professional body, and can get guys with professional bodies! You barely eat right, and you never work out! You’re a bag of Jell-O; there’s no way she’d be interested in you. Besides, you’re a brilliant novelist and she’s an airhead model; you can do so much better than her.” Seeing Maritza starting to fume, he added, “Don’t take it personally, Sweetie. All models are airheads. You make great arm candy for an event, but you sex on wheels types go through guys like water, and I don’t want you to hurt my friend. I’m sometimes your boss so you’d better do what I say.”

That sent her over the edge. “You want my jewelry back? Fine. Here it is!” And she unclasped her necklace, pulled out her earrings and threw them at Claude. “Hey! You made this dress, too,” she shouted and, reaching around behind her back, she unzipped her dress and let it drop to the floor. Dressed only in her stockings, high heels, and the smallest pair of panties David had ever seen, she stepped out of the gown, bent down, picked it up, and threw it at Claude. “Here, you can have this back, too!” Then she went behind the couch and fetched the overnight bag she’d left there earlier, and stomped off into the bathroom.

David finally took a breath when he was shaken out of his stupor by Claude’s comment as he held up the garment that had been thrown at him. “This style wouldn’t work on you. Yours will need more definition.”

“Mine? My what?”

“Your gown, Silly. The one you promised Jane Waters you’ll be wearing next year! That’s what I came over for — so we can start planning your outfit.”

Finally, David understood, and he was flabbergasted. “You came over here in the middle of the night to interrupt my date with an incredible woman, because of a joke I made with a fashion reporter? To plan an outfit for an event a year away? That I might not even get nominated for? Claude, you’re a great guy, usually. But you’re just going overboard on this way too soon. Wait until next year to bother me about this, if Jane Waters even remembers. Now I’m going to call you a cab, and send you home, and then I’m going to try to make it up to the girl in the next room.”

Maritza’s heels clacking back down the hallway gave her away. She was wearing a simple little black dress that covered a little more shoulder, but showed a lot more leg than her gown did, and had let her hair down. Her bag was slung over her left shoulder, and her cell phone was in her right hand. She loudly snapped it closed. “Don’t bother calling a cab for him. I had them send two - one for me, one for him.” She walked over to where David was sitting and leaned over and kissed him on the forehead. “I’m sorry, but I am just too mad at him right now. Angry sex can be good sex, but it is too animal for your first time with me. I think you need it soft and gentle when you are sad like this about your award. It will take me hours to fall asleep now, and I have to fly to New York in the morning.” She snatched a paper from the stack of sketches Claude was holding and wrote on it with her lipstick. “I will have my phone on when I’m not working. Here is my number.” She took his face in her hands and kissed him again. She pulled on his bowtie and untied it, undid his top button, and tousled his hair. Don’t be sad, David,” and she thickened her accent to pull his name out as Dah-VEED. “You will see me again.” And as a mischievous smirk came to her lips she threw in, “So, what did you think of my breasts? Do they suit your taste?”

Dumbfounded, David had to take a moment to answer. But then he was saved by a beeping horn, as two taxis from apparently the most efficient car service in LA County had arrived at his driveway, and his guests had to go. He would have liked to walk Maritza to her car, but he had to partially carry Claude to his. What a strange night! It was a pity about losing the award, though.

Oscar Night by Jennifer Brock Last time, Novelist/Screenwriter David Fine made a comment to a fashion reporter that may find him in a gown if he's nominated for an Academy Award again. This time, his budding romance with fashion model Maritza Delgado makes a few more strides, as the scheming of his friend clothing designer Claude Marsh helps smooth things over for David.

Part 2
It took a couple weeks after the Oscars for Claude and David to go back to the way things were. One apology after another, followed by a free lunch at this new Italian place was all it took for Claude to patch things up with David, letting the issue about wearing a gown at the next year’s awards go, for the moment. David screwed up his courage to call Maritza three times, but always he got her voice mail. It was very disappointing! He had thought that he had a shot with her, but maybe she really was out of his league after all. Fortunately, David was able to work out his frustration energies by throwing himself into his work. He spent most of his waking hours sitting at his word processor, implementing the changes his editor had requested, and he actually thought it made the story better. After another week had passed, he got a call.

It was Maritza. A cascade of words quickly poured out: “David, I’m sorry. I just got your messages. The first weekend I was here, we went out dancing to a bunch of new clubs, and I left my phone in one of them. Then I was so busy I forgot about it, but my agent had to track me down — I’m staying with some friends from the catwalk, and she didn’t have the number here, so she had to catch me at the catalog shoot and tell me to turn my phone on, and then I realized it was missing, and we had to go all over town trying to remember where I left it. And then we found it, at this place where the owner was really nice and remembered us — six sexy models in our tiny club dresses can really make an impression on a guy! But the battery was dead, and my charger was in LA, and I tried to borrow Nikki’s charger because our phones are the same brand, but mine is a better one so the little thing on the end of the wire wasn’t the right shape for the little hole on my phone, so we had to wait until we got a day off and I could get a new charger, but the catalog wasn’t going well; the photographer wanted to try something weird with fans blowing around, but the hairdresser got mad that she didn’t have the right spray for windy styles, and tried to walk out, but then the designer said the wind was a stupid idea, and they all fought while we stood around, so it took extra long and we never got a break, but at least we got paid for the extra time, so there was a good thing in there almost! So finally yesterday we went shopping and I got a new charger and the little book thing says it has to go overnight, so I plugged it in and turned it on today when I got out of bed and there were twenty-nine messages, so I had to go through them, and half of them were from my agent, and some were from friends who wanted to know if I was in town, and one was from my mama, and one was an apology from your stupid friend, and there were three from you, and when I heard how sad you were in the last one, I realized I hurt you by mistake because I wasn’t there for you to call even though I told you to, and I had to call you back, but I can never get the different times between the east coast and the west coast right, so I hope it’s not to early for you for me to call now. I’m really, really sorry.”

Then she paused for air, and David was overwhelmed with new information. But he knew he should say something. “That’s ok. I’ve been focusing on my work, and was able to finish making my editor’s changes to that book you saw me working on. It sounds like you’ve had a rough couple of weeks! I never would have imagined how tough your job is.”

She was insistent. “You are being too nice. I was rude. I told you to call me, but then I wasn’t there to answer the phone. I will have to do something to make it up to you when I get back to California, but that’s not for another month.”

David had a brainstorm. “Now that I think about it, my publisher’s office is in New York. I usually send my manuscript with a courier service, but I could hand-deliver it myself, and visit you while I’m there.” Then, remembering who he was and who he was talking to, he added, “if you’re going to have any free time, and wouldn’t mind spending some of it with me?”

“Yes, I would like to see you again! I will be very busy for another week, but I will be free for the next three weekends. Call me when you know your schedule. I promise I will answer my phone, or return your message faster this time! Now I am very happy and excited! Thank you for cheering me up! I hope to see you soon, Cutie!”

When he got off the phone, he was in a bit of a daze. What had just happened? He made a date with a model and she said yes? He couldn’t believe it. Then the panic hit him. He had a date, and he was going to mess it up somehow. He knew even less of the New York scene than he did in LA. How far do you go on a second date? Was she expecting sex? Would he be any good at it if she was? What was he going to wear? She’d only seen him in formal. That gave him an idea — he’d get Claude to help him get ready; he knew models, he knew New York, he could tell him what to wear.

***

So it was that David found himself twelve days later in the lobby of a Manhattan apartment building. Following his friend’s advice, he was wearing a grey silk shirt, a pair of sharply creased khakis, and a navy blue blazer. For luck, he had on the same shoes he wore to the Oscars, the shoes he wore when she kissed him, since there was nothing else in that outfit that he wanted to wear ever again. Feeling three nervous beads of sweat running down his back, he inhaled sharply, held his breath, and pressed the button for her friends’ apartment number. An unfamiliar female voice came through the intercom, “Hey baby, come on up!” and before he could say who he was and who he was there for, the buzzer sounded, and he rushed to open the door. After a painful ride in the world’s slowest elevator, he made his way to a door. Fighting the panic, he knocked.

The door was opened and David came face to face with a pair of remarkably tanned breasts rushing towards him that were barely covered by some filmy fuchsia thing that was held up by silver threads. They nearly crushed into his face as he was being embraced by some stranger. The moment became even more awkward when she stepped back and said, “You’re not Blake.” Now that he had a better look at her, he saw that she was a tall, willowy blonde with sparkling blue eyes and a confused look on her face. Besides the gossamer top, she wore a tight white skirt about three inches long, from which an impressive pair of legs ran down to high white platform heels.

“Hi,” he said. “I’m David Fine. I’m here to pick up Maritza. Is this the right place?”

He could almost hear the light bulb going on in her head. “Oh! Hi. I’m Sam. Sorry about that before. I thought you were someone else.” She then called out to the room behind her, “Hey, Ritz’s guy is here!” As she realized that David was still standing in the hall, she opened the door wider. “Come on in and take a seat. Meet everyone. She’s not ready yet.”

David stepped through the door and looked around. The apartment was smaller than he’d expected, from what he’d seen of Manhattan apartments on television. Sam led him through the foyer and down a short hallway, where it opened up into a living room where seven people were sitting on three overstuffed couches. Feeling the need to make amends for her mistake at the door, Sam acted as hostess and introduced everyone. “Over there are Amanda, Laney, Brendan, and Troy,” indicating the people sitting on the couch to the left, pointing out each one as she named them.

Amanda was a thin, pale redhead wearing a tight emerald green silky dress that looked like a negligee. Laney was a delicate Asian woman with waist-length black hair, wearing a bright red cropped tank top that showed off the sparkling jewel in her navel and a pair of ridiculously low-cut and impossibly tight jeans. Brendan was a ruggedly handsome man hanging on Laney’s arm. He must have been at least a foot taller than David. He was wearing gray slacks made out of some kind of shiny material, and a blue shirt with a wider collar than anything in David’s wardrobe, with its top two buttons unbuttoned to show off a smooth, muscular chest. Troy was a tall, lithe black guy, with a shaved head and gold hoops in both ears. His black jeans were almost as tight as Laney’s, and his charcoal silk shirt was completely unbuttoned, revealing a set of muscles that were as hairless as Brendan’s.

David figured that they all must be models, too. There was something in the way Troy looked him over that made him very uncomfortable in a way that he sometimes got from Claude’s boyfriends. Sam continued with the introductions, “And over here are Nikki, Kendra and Chance,” pointing at the other couch.

Nikki was one of those rail-thin models that look like teenage boys or heroin addicts, yet somehow she made that look work. After first noticing her brilliant yellow dress covered in shimmering sequins, his gaze was then drawn to a tousled mass of hair the color of spun honey spilling down over her shoulders, but then her soulful amber eyes captivated him and David had to let out an unconscious gasp. Kendra was a tall, lean brunette in a knee-length black dress that seemed to be made of lace, and he caught himself wondering if it was really that see-through or if it had some kind of lining the same color as her tan. Chance had his arm around Kendra and flashed a peace sign when his name was mentioned. He wasn’t as muscled as Troy and Brendan, but he had the same kind of impossible good looks — sparkling blue eyes, cheekbones that could cut glass, and short, spiky brown hair with blonde tips. He was dressed more like a regular guy than the other two, in what appeared to be a pink and black bowling shirt and a pair of black chinos.

Laney was the first of the group to speak up. “What’s that you’re holding? Most guys bring their dates a gift, but that doesn’t look like a bottle of wine or a bouquet of roses. That better not be a box of chocolates! Do you know how wrong it is to bring candy to an apartment full of models?”

He looked down at what he was carrying. “No, this box here is a copy of the manuscript I just sent to my publisher. Maritza had peeked at a draft of it when she was at my place, and I’d promised to let her read it when it was done.”

Nikki chimed in. “I think she did say you wrote books. What’s it about?”

“It’s a character study about a newly widowed woman trying to find her place while fighting to keep her kids from being taken away.” He would have continued, but her confused expression let him know not to.

Amanda tried to contribute. “Books are silly. I tried to read that wizard boy book everybody was talking about, but it was just so much easier to watch it as a movie.”

He would have gone into his usual diatribe about books vs. film, but instead opted for the politer route. “I’ve had two books made into movies. Did you see Sublimation?”

Sam cut him off. “Hey! That’s where I remember you from. You’re the guy who took Ritz to the Oscars! Remember when we saw her on TV, guys?”

Nikki added the part David didn’t want anyone to remember, “Yeah, you were the guy in that red suit. You said you’d wear a gown next year.”

Troy’s eyes widened. “Really? Do tell.” And Nikki gave a more or less accurate account of his Red Carpet encounter with Jane Waters.

David had never felt more out of place in his life. These were not his people. What was he doing here? What had ever made him think he could be a part of Maritza’s life, when she was one of the beautiful people and he was still the dumpy bookworm he was in high school, who could never hang with the cool kids?

Amanda, wanting to contribute to the conversation, decided to change the subject. “Hey, something you probably don’t know is that two of the people in this room used to go out with Ritz. I bet you can’t you guess which two of us it was!”

David answered cautiously. “It’s got to be Chance and Brendan, right?”

“Nope. It was me and Troy,” she giggled. “You weren’t paying attention! I said it was two of *us* - giving you a hint that I was one of them, since I didn’t say ‘two of them.’ Didn’t Ritz tell you she goes both ways?”

Now the panic was really hitting him. The incredible person that he’d gotten his heart’s hopes wrapped around is attracted to a woman and an apparently gay guy? What does that say about David’s image? This was just too confusing and very uncomfortable, and he could tell that they all were laughing at him not with him. He wanted to run, to get back to his old safe boring life, forgetting he ever met these people!

Then, he heard footsteps behind him and turned to see his angel coming down the hall. There she was — a vision in a silky wisp of a little black dress — thin straps slid down her shoulders to a deep plunging neckline around her perfect breasts, and the soft fabric clung tightly to her waist, then softy pleated outward to ruffles that danced down from her hips. Her legs were bare, and her feet were scantily shod in a pair of tall sandals. Her hair was a loose mass of brown waves, and her eyes sparkled a smile when they met his. Although he wasn’t panicking anymore, his heart still raced.

Maritza loved being able to grab his full attention just by entering the room. This one definitely had possibilities. She giggled at his wide-eyed stare. Trying for the easiest way to snap him out of it, she sashayed right up to him, leaned her head down, tenderly grabbed his face, tipped up his chin and kissed him deeply and thoroughly. Her friends, who had been peeking in from the next room, made various gasps and whistles and other sounds of surprise. But it gave her almost as much of a kick to shake them up, so that was an extra treat. She released him and let him breathe.

“Um, wow. Hi,” David stammered. It was unbelievable — someone like her was actually interested in him! As the blood started flowing back to his brain, he remembered. “Here. I brought you a copy of my manuscript, like I promised,” and handed her the bound sheets of plain white paper tied with a red ribbon that he’d been holding.

“Thanks. No one’s ever given me a book that hasn’t been published yet before,” she smiled and looked around for a place to put it. She shouted back to the party room, “I’m setting my book on the hall table here. None of you are allowed to read it until I do, so don’t touch it.” Dismissive laughter answered her. They weren’t what you’d call readers. She grabbed a small black handbag from where it hung on a peg in the hallway and led David out the door. He was surprised Maritza didn’t have a coat or a wrap or something, since the weather wasn’t quite spring yet. Maybe he’d just been in California too long.

Soon, David was showing Maritza to where he’d left his cab waiting. When he opened the door for her, she decided to reward her gentleman with another kiss before stepping in. As she pressed close to suck on his tongue, David noticed that the brisk air and her filmy dress had combined to perk up Maritza’s nipples. His memory flashed back to the time he saw her nearly naked in his hallway, and he felt himself perking up as well. He hoped she didn’t notice, and helped her into the cab, planning to run around to the other side and avoid embarrassment. No such luck. She grabbed his neck as she sat down and pulled him in after her. He closed the door. She told the driver an address then spent the rest of the ride molesting her date. He was a better kisser than she’d expected. She decided that this thing might actually work.

David was surprised to find out that her favorite restaurant was a Thai place. He’d have thought she’d go for something South American, but.her explanation was that if you’re in the city where all the corners of the globe come together, why go somewhere just like home when you can explore the world instead? Seeing her slurp spicy noodles made her look different in David’s eyes — doing something sloppy and indelicate seemed to make her more like a real person than an unattainable ideal, but at the same time she was just cuter than he had ever realized. Without Gorgeous getting in the way, Cute can really shine.

Over dinner, they discussed how each of them ended up in their respective careers. Maritza had been discovered by a photographer scouting locations for a fashion magazine. He came to the small coastal city where she lived to check out whether there was anything in the landscape that would be new or different, and when he was shooting some pictures of the beach he noticed her sunning herself with a couple of friends. She was only thirteen, but he could see her potential — the camera clearly loved her. He took her and her mother to Caracas for a series of test shots, had her sign some papers, and got them a meeting with one of Venezuela’s biggest agencies. The rest is history.

So far she’d been a in the business for eleven years and didn’t regret it. She had done work in America and England and France and Italy, and had filed papers to become an American citizen to make it easier to wait around between jobs, and her friends had taught her enough of the culture that she rarely stood out as a foreigner when she didn’t want to. At twenty-four she had doubts that she’d ever be an internationally famous supermodel. If you don’t hit big before you’re twenty-five, you never will. David’s opinion was that she was just being modest, but he really had no idea how the modeling business works, despite all the times Claude had tried to teach him about the fashion industry. And it did make him a little self-conscious to realize that even though he was eight years older than his date, she had seen far more of the world than he had.

David, for his part, had played a more active role in his discovery as an author. He’d gone to college to study chemistry, but while he was at school the processing plant in his hometown closed down, and he’d really been looking forward to going back after graduation. So he switched majors in his junior year to journalism, hoping to get a job with the old-fashioned small town newspaper. Reality was a sharp slap in the face when he found out that a major publishing corporation had bought the local paper years ago, and now all that the local office produced was a couple of pages of regional stories, and the rest of the pages came from the corporate headquarters. He tried to get a job writing for those few pages, but there were no openings. The best he was able to manage was writing occasional freelance human interest stories, so he had to take a meaningless job as night manager of a department store to pay the bills.

He couldn’t just leave town and go find a better job somewhere else because he had family obligations. His grandmother was in a local nursing home, and he was the only family she had left locally. He couldn’t just abandon her like all his cousins had. His grandmother had taken over when twelve-year-old David’s parents had died, so he wanted to stay close to her. Once when he was visiting the home, he was talking with her neighbors, since old folks tend to have a lot of stories in them, and one could be worth interviewing for one of his puff pieces. This one old guy, Mr. Sylvester, told a sweet tale about how he’d gone off to war with a picture of his girlfriend to keep him company every night, but it had gotten lost the day before a big battle where he got shot in the leg, and when they shipped him home, she married him. David didn’t think the paper would want to buy Mr. Sylvester’s story, but he wrote it up just for practice.

As he was writing it, he thought of various ways the story would have been more compelling if events were changed. Rather than trying to submit his modified story as journalism like some notorious writers, he realized that he was now writing a piece of fiction and having fun doing so. He kept revising and rewriting the story until the only remaining element of the original is that it happened during wartime. On a whim, he sent it off to a literary magazine and they accepted it. A few more stories followed, and then he was contacted by a publishing agent. They wanted to know if he had any larger works. He didn’t, but he had some ideas.

He spent a couple years working on his first novel, and sent it off to them. His agent found a publisher that liked it, hooked him up with an editor, and he earned enough to quit his day job. His second novel was much easier to write. As he was finishing it, two major events happened. First, his grandmother had a stroke and couldn’t recover — her passing hit David greatly. But then he got the call that Sublimation had been optioned for a movie. After a meeting where he was able to convince the producers to give him a shot at adapting his own screenplay, he decided to leave Ohio for good and move to Hollywood. It still felt very new to him.

***

After comparing histories, they realized that they really did have quite a bit in common, coming from smaller towns to make it out in the big wide world. Then they noticed that they’d finished eating an hour ago, and the restaurant would want their table back. Maritza suggested moving the conversation to David’s hotel room. While he rummaged through the mini-bar, she kicked off her shoes, threw her purse in a chair, and snuck up behind him. “It was sweet of you to try to be a good host, but we don’t need anything from there,” she said, taking his hand and pulling him upright. “What we want is over here,” and she led him over to the bed.

She sat him on the edge of the bed. Then she did a sort of shrug and a wiggle, and suddenly her dress was at her feet and she stood there in front of him absolutely, completely, wonderfully nude! Her perfect breasts bounced at him, and David reached out to take hold of her magnificent hips, but she waggled her finger at him and pushed his arms back, “No, no! No hands!” He leaned forward to kiss her, but she backed up and he early fell over. From his new vantage point, David could see that her body was completely devoid of hair. Wow. Maritza noticed him staring and giggled. She stepped up so she was straddling his lap, and took the rubber band out of his little ponytail. “I like hair I can run my fingers through,” she said, and started unbuttoning his shirt.

David fought the urge touch her, remembering her admonishment. He reached up his face and kissed her collarbone. “Good boy. Follow the rules,” she encouraged him. It was weird — even though he was the only one with clothes still on, she was completely in control of the situation; he was surprised to realize that he liked it. He’d never quite been comfortable having to assert himself with women, even in a relationship it just felt uncomfortably aggressive for him to insist on taking charge all the time. Sitting back and passively letting Maritza drive just felt right.

When she had his shirt removed, she then pulled his undershirt off over his head, and pushed him down onto the bed, spreading his arms out to his side almost like a crucifix. She played her fingers across his mat of chest hair, and wrinkled her nose slightly. She bent down and kissed him full on the mouth, then nibble-kissed her way down his neck to his chest, taking extra time to run her tongue around his nipples and give them each a sucking kiss. Spitting out a hair, she said, “Have you ever though about waxing?” David just made a happy moan in response.

She continued working her way down to his navel, where she stuck her tongue in and made a slurping noise. Then it was time to continue undressing him. She turned around and gave David a view of her magnificent bottom while she pulled off his shoes and socks, then surprised him by sitting on his stomach to unfasten his belt. He couldn’t see what she was doing, but he heard unzipping. He craned his neck and kissed the small of her back. She let out a surprised gasp and nimbly dismounted him, rolling over to bring her face to his for another deep kiss.

She then got up and walked to his feet, and pulled his pants off by the cuffs. He lifted his legs to make it easier for her. She told him to move up and lie on the bed completely. Seeing this exquisite goddess before him, he felt very inadequate lying there in only his boxers, seeing his pale body, with what looked like the beginning of a beer gut, exposed to the world. How could someone like that possibly be interested in this?

His thoughts were interrupted when she crawled in on top of him and smiled. “You deserve a reward for being so patient,” she said, and placed her right breast near his face. David took the hint and gently kissed around it, spiraling in towards the bull’s-eye. He nibbled around the areola, slipping just the tip of his tongue into each kiss, but when he got to the actual nipple he brought his lips close without actually touching, and softly blew on it. Maritza was impressed — she’d expected him to just crudely suckle; David was clearly not as innocent as he seemed. She involuntarily let out a small moan. It felt so good, she shifted and let him have a go at her other breast, which he took care of in the same expert manner. She kissed him in appreciation, and then moved around so that she lay next to him.

Placing her hand on his now noticeably tented boxers she asked in mock surprise, “What have we here? This deserves a closer look.” She flipped around and kneeled beside his hip, then slipped her left hand inside his waistband and carefully took hold of him, and pulled his boxers down with her right — if she’d just ripped them down, his “things” might have been damaged. She let go and finished taking his shorts off. She gave his penis a small kiss, just behind the tip, being careful to avoid any of his fluids, just in case.
She then carefully opened a condom and unrolled it onto him. “I won’t let you inside me without one of these until we’re sure we’re a thing and you swear you won’t sleep with anyone else when I’m not there, and also if you get tested for everything and show me the test and it says you’re all clean.” Noticing a confused expression on his face she added, “I don’t mean to kill the mood, but my job depends on my health being perfect.”

“No, that’s ok. I understand,” David’s confusion was really from trying to figure out where she got the condom. He wasn’t expecting they’d be going this far on a second date, so he hadn’t been carrying one, and she was completely naked, with nowhere to carry one — unless... To banish this train of thought, he sat up and took her in his arms. “And I really hope we do become a thing. You are incredible!” he said pulling her into a tender kiss.

“Hey! I didn’t say you could use your hands yet,” she teased as they broke the kiss. She pushed him back down and straddled him. Then she raised herself up and guided him into her — it was a nice fit. “Okay, you can touch me now,” as she laid down onto him and started slowly rocking her hips. He easily matched her rhythm, and used his freed hands to stroke her breasts and gently knead her buttocks as they rose and fell.

They moved in synchronized harmony, which was a new experience for Maritza. She was used to guys who were all about hard, fast pounding thrusts, like having sex with a locomotive. But David was soft and slow, building intensity gradually, and he did something whenever he was in to full depth that made it jump or swell up or something and it just hit the right spot inside her. Sex with David wasn’t the kind of competition it is with some guys, where they’re always checking and asking how they were doing, to make sure they were “the best she ever had.” Instead, he was just feeling what she was doing and responding to it. She didn’t have to fake enthusiasm, either. Her real noises were enough to show that. David had been holding himself back to make sure of her satisfaction, but finally he let go on her third orgasm, making it a true climax. This wasn’t sex — this was making love. This guy could be The One.

They embraced tightly and shared a kiss. She carefully got up and went into the bathroom and got a towel, then carefully took off the condom and cleaned him up. She picked up his undershirt from the floor and pulled it on over her head, then handed him his boxers, and slipped under the covers.

David was exhausted from pulling out every technique from his repertoire, but cuddled up with a beautiful woman in his arms, he had a great deal of trouble falling asleep. It was like one of those moments when you think reality might be a dream and if you fall asleep in the dream you could wake up back in the lonely, miserable, empty reality you’re supposed to have. Eventually, the soft breathing of the one beside him lulled him to sleep. When he woke up, she was still there. It wasn’t a dream. He had room service deliver a nice breakfast. He learned that she takes her coffee black, and that the previous night’s sex was not a fluke. But eventually she had to leave, and he had to get to the airport. She was still beautiful, even in yesterday’s clothes. She promised to call him when she got back to Los Angeles in a couple months.

Oscar Night by Jennifer Brock When we left off, our hero David Fine the novelist turned Hollywood screenwriter had just had a date in New York City with the beautiful fashion model Maritza Delgado, who he'd met through his friend clothing designer turned Hollywood costumer Claude Marsh. In this installment, David learns that unexpected hair loss does not always lead to tragedy.

Part 3

When he returned to California, David made a commitment to get himself in better shape for when he saw Maritza again. Remembering something she had said, he asked Claude what he knew about waxing, but Claude was in one of his moods. “Are you asking me because I’m your gay friend, and the gays are into grooming?”

“Not exactly. I’m asking because you’re my style guru.”

“I suppose that is an acceptable reason, Grasshopper. Now when dealing with unsightly body hair there are several things to consider. What areas were you thinking of waxing?”

“I think it was mostly my chest hairs that were bothering her.”

“Her? Aha! Better grooming wasn’t your idea originally, and you’re doing this at the behest of some female? And here I thought my good habits were just rubbing off on you.”

“Yeah, my date with Maritza went well, and I’m hoping I can see her again, but I thought I’d try to fix a few things about my appearance. It’s hard enough that she’s so much younger, but she’s also a professional gorgeous person. It’s very intimidating. But I figured it would be a good gesture to at least make some kind of effort at improvement.”

“That sounds wise. But don’t sell yourself short. You’re quite a catch: decent guy, best-selling novelist, academy-nominated screenwriter, general C-List celebrity. I’d make a play for you myself if you weren’t stuck on that whole vagina thing. But anyway, back to grooming. If you only take the hair off one area, you might look like one of those cheap gorilla costumes, where there’s a hard plastic chest surrounded by fake fur — it’s not a good look. So you want to do all the adjacent areas, too. Chest leads to shoulders and stomach, shoulders lead to arms and back, stomach leads to legs and crotch, back leads to butt.”

“That’s like everything! I don’t want to get rid of all my hair! And what do you mean ‘crotch?’ I’m definitely not waxing my pubes!”

“It really looks bad when only one zone is hairless. Trust me on this one. Ok, sometimes if you leave a little patch of pubic hair it’s ok, but you definitely want to get the hair off your genitals.”

“No way! The last time I trusted you I wore a pimp suit! I am definitely not letting someone pour hot wax on my balls.”

“It might not have to be hot wax. Of the nine standard methods of hair removal, only one of them involves hot wax. But really, didn’t you think Maritza’s hairless genitals looked sexy? So could yours.”

“What? Aren’t you supposed to be gay? Why were you looking at the naked crotch of the woman who maybe could be my girlfriend?”

“Way to commit there, Casanova. Anyway, she must have turned you stupid or something. You completely forgot how you met her. She’s worked shows for me, and I insist on using girls who are clear-cut. It prevents mishaps when showing lingerie or swimwear. Just in case you’re curious, I also insist they be free of tattoos and body piercings so as not to distract from the fashions. Oh and I seem to have guessed correctly that you got a peek at her smooth goodies, so way to go, Stud. But we’re straying. You’ve got your nine methods: shaving, chemical depilatories, tweezing, power tweezing epilators, hot wax, cold wax, sugaring, lasers, and electrolysis. With your coloring, I’d recommend laser hair removal. It doesn’t hurt as much as wax, and is more permanent, but more convenient than electrolysis. If you skip shaving for a few days and let your stubble grow they can even do your face, and it would be smooth and nice for when your girlfriend comes back.”

“I guess I’ll just have to trust you on this one.”

So three days later, Claude got David an appointment with an esthetician he knew, and took him to the office personally. He had signed David up for full treatment, and he was feeling a little guilty about having an ulterior motive for wanting David’s body completely hairless, but he rationalized it with the thought that it truly was a better look than partial smoothness would be.

The place seemed to be the epitome of the Beverly Hills lifestyle to David. The attendants all looked like bikini models or fashion dolls come to life. The receptionist gave him this lemon grass/green tea smoothie to drink while he was waiting. When a technician came and took him into a room, she turned around and had him strip off his clothes and lie on a table covered only in a strategically placed towel. Then she put special eyeshades on his face and put in a pair of earbuds that played relaxing music. In the back of his mind, he smelled smoke and felt a tingling, but he didn’t care.

He was almost asleep when the tech rolled him over to do the other side, and he didn’t even realize that his towel was gone. When it was all over, he sort of felt sunburned all over, but then an attendant came in and massaged some kind of anesthetic ointment all over him. This was a pretty swanky place — he hoped the bill wouldn’t be too steep. Then she switched to a different kind of lotion and rubbed it into his face. Then she handed him a little shopping bag with bottles if the stuff she just put on him, and told him he could get dressed as she left the room.

David realized that he had just been totally naked in a room with a girl massaging him all over and hadn’t felt embarrassed or excited or anything — that music must have put him in some kind of hypnotic state, or maybe it was drugs in his drink or the ointment. He went back to the waiting room and found Claude signing some papers at the desk. The receptionist made a follow-up appointment, and told him he was all set. Claude claimed that he was paying for this to make up for the “pimp suit” incident, and David’s mellow mood let him accept that. It was only after they left the building that David realized how long the procedure had taken; the sun had gone down while he was on the table.

Eventually his mood shifted and David was able to check himself out. His chest was bare, like he wanted, but so were his arms, his legs, his rear end from what he could see in his bathroom mirror, his armpits were clear even though he couldn’t remember changing his pose to allow the laser in there, and all that was left of his pubic hair was a little square patch just above his bald genitals, which did have the silver lining of appearing larger now without all the hair. His neck was smooth, and after a week his face still didn’t need a shave. He felt weird without any hair, and called Claude to complain. “You had them do everywhere, man! I look like a little kid or something. It was just supposed to be a little chest hair, but I let you talk me into letting it snowball into this. When I go back there after it all grows out again, I’m going to be more specific about what they do.”

Claude paused for a moment. Would it be better to tell him or not? After all is said and done, he did still consider himself a friend to David. “It’s not all going to grow out again. They’re not legally allowed to call laser hair removal permanent, but it comes really close. Your follow-up appointment is just to catch a few stragglers. The best it would do if you stopped now is that you might grow back a few mangy-looking patches here and there, but not fully or evenly. I thought you knew.”

“Even the hair on my face isn’t going to grow back? Ever?”

“I’ve never seen you with a beard. Have you ever grown one? I’ve never seen any old pictures of you with one. Sorry, but Evelyn mentioned it as an option when I was making your appointment, and I just thought ‘Hey, why not? No more shaving; no more whisker burn when you kiss your girl; what’s not to love?’ I really thought I was doing you a favor. I’m sorry.” Claude was an excellent liar. He couldn’t tell David his real reasons; not yet. But he really didn’t think David would ever want a beard.

At this point, the only real option David had was to accept it and learn to live with a smother body. He just hoped it didn’t turn Maritza off. He though about calling her, but remembered that she’d said she’d be very busy for a while. He put his mind off it by moving on to the next step in his plan — getting into shape. He saw his doctor to get tested for all the things that could possibly earn him her rejection, and while he was there he asked about what he should do to improve his tone. The doctor recommended that he start with something small — walk a mile a day, switch to a high fiber/low fat diet, and add some kind of vigorous physical activity at least twice a week. With his body type, he’d be better off focusing on losing fat than on trying to add muscle with weight training. He emphasized that David shouldn’t do anything drastic like a crash diet or going overboard on the exercise.

Two months of salads, jogging, and swimming laps in the pool at his complex helped him lose twelve pounds and he was feeling better about himself. He’d mostly gotten used to being hairless, except when he’d get creepy looks from this old neighbor guy he’d sometimes run into at the pool. He’d taken to swimming at night to avoid him. The downside is that he didn’t get enough sun to develop much of a tan, but then she’d never said he was too pale.

***

When Maritza got back in town, David told her he really wasn’t up for meeting more of her friends, so she invited herself over to his place for him to cook dinner for just the two of them. He accepted her offer, and figured it was some kind of bachelor test of hers to see how self-sufficient he was, but he wasn’t worried. He wasn’t one of those single guys who consist mainly on take-out food. He’d lived on his own for quite a while, and most of that was back home in Ohio in a little town without a lot of restaurants. She asked what kind of wine to bring, which was probably also another test, and he said to go with a dry white that wouldn’t be too overpowering, but he wouldn’t tell her specifically what he’d be cooking. He did make sure she didn’t have any food allergies.

She showed up at his townhouse on time. Unlike David, who was in his standard date uniform of an oxford shirt, a pair of khakis and his one good pair of shoes, she was dressed casually, which actually seemed to make it more intimate. She wore a pair of well-faded jeans that, while fitting well to her nicely rounded shape, weren’t so tight they gave that “painted on” look, with a tooled red leather belt with a buckle that resembled an antique cameo brooch. A pair of matching red leather boots with four-inch heels covered her feet. Her top was a deep green silky camisole tank, with thin spaghetti straps and just a hint of lace at the edges, the kind of thing that might have been originally sold as underwear.

Her loosely tousled hair didn’t seem to be held in place by any product, flowing free in waves around her face and down the middle of her back. Her make-up was either subtle or very minimal. It only seemed like she was wearing some dark red lipstick and just a hint of eyeliner. Her jewelry was also subdued — around her neck was a twisted gold chain and she had plain gold circular hoops in her ears. Even though it seemed she was “dressed down,” she was still exquisitely beautiful. Over her right shoulder was the strap of an enormous leather bag that looked to be some kind of military surplus satchel, and in her hand she carried a wine bottle. In her left hand, she carried a bouquet of daisies.

Taking advantage of her full hands, David put his arms around her and gave her a deep, long kiss. Coming up for air, he greeted her. “Hi. I missed you. Let me help you with some of that,” and took the bottle and the flowers. “I’d take your bag, but it looks monstrous! That’s the largest purse I’ve ever seen!”

“It’s not a purse, you big silly! It’s an overnight bag, with some things for me to wear tomorrow. You look good. Have you lost weight?” she teased as she followed him into the house.

“Thanks. I have lost some. But it’s mostly hair. You’re looking fantastic yourself!” He motioned toward the living room. “You can put your bag in there. I’ll take these to the dining room and meet you.”

She disobediently dropped her bag in the foyer and took advantage of his hands being full this time. She threw her arms around him and bent him slightly backward for a toe-curling soul kiss. She broke the kiss but didn’t let go. “I missed you, too. But I hope you were kidding about cutting your hair. I liked it long,” she pouted.

“No, I didn’t cut it; it’s just pulled back so it wouldn’t get in the way while I was cooking,” and he tried to twist his head to show her the five-inch ponytail gathered at the nape of his neck. “The hair I lost was in … other places.”

Her eyes grew wide. “Oh, really? Where? Show me!” She moved her hands to start unbuttoning his shirt, but he managed to wiggle away in the nick of time.

He slipped to the dining area, where he placed the wine bottle on the sideboard, took out a corkscrew and opened it to let it breathe, and then went into the kitchen, where he set the flowers down on the counter, and turned around to see that she’d been following him. “Would you give me a hand? I’ve got a vase for these in the cabinet over the refrigerator, and you could probably reach it easier.”

“Not until you show me where you lost your hairs.” She stood next to him and he felt short. In her heels, she was nearly a half a foot taller than him. Barefoot she was probably about five-foot-ten, which would still be taller than his five-eight, but with her boots on, he was a dwarf. He probably could have reached the top shelf without fetching something to stand on, but he’d be groping around blindly for things she’d be able to find clearly. So he caved to her demand.

He unbuttoned the top three buttons of his shirt. “Well, you suggested I look into waxing my chest, and when I asked our mutual friend Claude for advice he took me to this laser place and told them to do everything. So I’ve got no hair here,” and he tugged down the collar of his undershirt.

She reached out and slipped her hand inside his shirt. “Ooh - that’s much better than before. Very sexy!”

“But I’ve also got none here,” and he rolled up his sleeve and moved her hand to his hairless arm, “and I’ve got none here either,” and he leaned down and pulled up his pant cuff and took her hand down to his smooth calf. And then, standing up, he brought her hand to his cheek. “And they even did it here. No more stubble - ever.”

She was a little surprised, but the idea intrigued her. She brought her other hand up to the other side of his face and kissed him, deeply and thoroughly. “I’m tempted to just skip dinner and go explore you,” she said in a husky whisper as they came up for air, “but something in here smells delicious!” Winking suggestively she added, “Besides you.”

Remembering how this started, David showed her the cabinet, and she pulled down his vase. It was a fluted cut glass vase that wasn’t what she would have expected in a bachelor’s kitchen. When she turned to hand it to him, she saw he was cutting the tips of the stems off the daisies. “Fresh cuts absorb the water better,” he said when she looked at him confusedly. He was glad to have shown that he knows his way around flowers, probably passing another test. “My publisher sent me flowers the first time I made the New York Times Bestseller List. They came in this vase.” It was a little dusty, so he wiped it down with a damp paper towel before filling it with water from the tap and loosely arranging the flowers. He considering giving the vase to Maritza to put on the table, but he wasn’t sure she would place in what he knew was just the right spot for a centerpiece. He brought the flowers into the dining area and set them on the table in the perfect location. “I’ve got to make the gravy, but then it will all be ready. So, if you need to freshen up or anything, there’s a powder room off the hall that you used before, or there’s a full bath upstairs if you need something more.”

She took her bag from the entryway and disappeared up the stairs. David turned his attention toward getting the meal ready to serve. After a few minutes, she came bouncing back down the stairs. The table had been elegantly set with dishes of steamed fresh string beans in a light butter sauce, honey-orange glazed ripple-cut carrot slices, twice-baked mashed potatoes with a scalloped edge that David had piped out with a pastry bag, a basket with steaming rolls, a platter with a stuffed rolled pork roast that he’d cut in even slices, and a boat of gravy that he’d made from the roast drippings. He’d just finished pouring the wine and was lighting candles that were in glass candlesticks that coordinated with the vase, when she entered.

He held her chair for her, and she slid in. “Thank you,” she smiled at him, “Your table looks lovely, but are more people going to be eating with us tonight? There’s so much here!”

“No, it’s just us. I cooked a lot because I use my grandmother’s old recipes and she always made enough for six. I usually just freeze the leftovers separated out into like TV dinners, and also this pork roast makes an incredible sandwich. I suppose I could just do some kitchen math on the recipes so they don’t make so much, but that just wouldn’t feel the same. My cousin Barbara dropped me off her Christmas card list when I didn’t send her Nana’s recipe scrapbook. She thought she was entitled to it since she’s the only granddaughter, but Barbara wasn’t the one who was with her at the end; I was. So I sent her a photocopy, and she considered it an insult. But I don’t mean to bring you down, sorry. Dig in!”

“You didn’t bring me down — I think it’s sweet that you want to honor your grandmother like that. My mother never had the patience to teach me to cook. I can only make three things that she showed me when I was very small, but I don’t make those very well.” She started loading her plate. Since David had seen Maritza devour a healthy amount of Thai noodles on their last date, he wasn’t worried that “normal” food would be a problem for her. She wasn’t one of those models who’d consider a filling meal to be a celery stalk, a lima bean, a liter of water, and a cigarette. He figured she either was blessed with an amazing metabolism, or she managed to work off the calories with an exercise routine far more intense than his.

“Does this mean you’re not making dinner next time?” David gave her a mock look of shocked confusion.

“That’s good. I like how you’re so sure there will be a next time.” She leaned over and gave him a tasty kiss. “But no, I don’t cook. Ever since I left home I haven’t done much in the kitchen. When I first started modeling, the older girl they moved me in with only ate raw fruits and vegetables, so all I got to help with was cutting them up. I was stuck with her for a year, eating her boring food. Every time I got paid, I’d take some of it to a little restaurant and get the largest piece of meat I could afford, or a fish if I was feeling homesick. We didn’t get a lot of meat when I was a little girl. But my mother and my younger sister get meat now. I bought them a bigger house in the city, and put money into a bank account for them. My sister is going to go to school and will learn more than I ever did. Sometimes I think about taking classes in business or something like that, so that I can find a job when I get old and don’t look good anymore.”

“That’s nice of you to take care of your family. I like that. And I can’t imagine you ever not looking good.” Inside David was already imagining starting a family of his own with her, even though he knew it was way too early in their relationship for that. She gave him a look that felt as though she could tell what he was thinking. He had to change the subject quickly. “This is an excellent wine. You have great taste!”

“Thank you, but I didn’t pick it out myself. I just told the man in the wine store what I was looking for, and he found a bottle. This meat is very good! Claude told me you were a good cook, but I thought he was kidding me, so I decided to see for myself and make you serve me tonight. Now that was an excellent decision I made!” She stuffed a heaping spoonful of potatoes in her mouth and smiled at him.

“I’ve had Claude over for dinner many times. He loves my chicken and dumplings!”

“What is that? It sounds like it might be a cute nickname for your…things?” She wiggled a finger at his lap. “I must admit I’d like a taste of them myself. Although I didn’t realize you two were a couple; I thought you were just friends, but I was getting a feeling that you might be a little bi-curious, as they say, which isn’t a problem for me; I’ve played around on the other side myself. But I’m not sure it’s a good move, dating the boyfriend of a guy who’s sometimes my boss. Maybe I should go.” She started to get up from her chair.

David was crushed. “No, wait! It’s not like that. I’m not gay or anything like that. He is a friend and that’s all. Chicken and dumplings is a dish; it’s like a stew. Please don’t go.” He was on the verge of tears. The stress of trying to put together a perfect date had put him emotionally on edge.

Maritza could no longer contain her giggles, and exploded. “I’m sorry, Baby. I was just teasing you.” She went around behind his chair and held him. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m here. I’m not going. I know you’re not a gay.” She turned his face toward hers and kissed him deeply, adding “And I will show you how I know after dinner,” while she moved a hand to his leg and gave it a squeeze. “Do you forgive me?”

He wanted to tell her that it was very mean to tease him like that. He wanted to tell her that she might as well leave, because he wasn’t going to be in any mood for romance tonight. But from where her hand was he knew she could tell that at least a part of him wanted her to stay. And he knew that he was seriously falling for her, so he couldn’t let her go. “Yes, I forgive you. I should have realized you were kidding. I think I was just still a little nervous about making everything perfect for you, and I panicked.”

She kissed him again and returned to her seat. “Good. You did make a very lovely table, and a delicious meal! Some day you will make an excellent wife for a very lucky guy!” She smirked to make sure he knew she was kidding this time.

Inside, David was having a bit of a panic attack. He’d thought he was doing so well on all her little tests of how domestic he was, but the realization that he didn’t do any of it in a manner that was at all manly hit him like a truck. He couldn’t crumble again. He had to do something to shoot her opinion of him back to seeing him as a strong male, a worthy mate.

Little did he know she actually thought him worthy because he wasn’t strong and masculine, and that intrigued her. She was tired of macho guys. She smiled and enjoyed her meal, sensing that something was bothering David, but assuming it was mostly nerves. It was really cute to see him so fragile just from wanting to please her — it made her feel powerful.

When they’d finished the meal, David told her he could put on some coffee to go with the fresh strawberry shortcake he had all waiting to be assembled from homemade shortbread cookies, sliced strawberries that had been marinating in sweet liqueur syrup, and chilled heavy cream ready for whipping. Maritza thought for a moment then declined, “It sounds delicious, but your food was so good I ate so much I don’t have any room left. I have a better dessert for you. Give me ten minutes, then come upstairs.” She put her arms around him and kissed him, teasing his tongue before letting him go. She turned back on her way out to see him still standing there dumbfounded. He was fun to play with!

David used his ten minutes to put away the leftovers and pack the dishwasher. Remembering what she’d said about his hair, he went into the powder room and took the elastic off his ponytail and shook his head vigorously, using both of his hands to fluff out his hair. He repeated the mantra “I will not mess this up” in the mirror three times, then cautiously went up to his bedroom. Or at least, what had been his bedroom until very recently. He wasn’t exactly sure what was in that bag of hers, but she’d managed to transform his room in the brief time he’d left her alone. Four large scented candles were filling the room with a musky perfume. She’d remade his bed with deep red silk sheets, in the middle of which she struck an enticing pose. She’d changed into a tight black lace nightgown that left little to the imagination but framed it all perfectly. She slid out of bed when she saw him, and walked over slowly like a stalking panther sizing up her prey.

“Don’t you move. I want to undress you slowly.” She unbuttoned his shirt, and when she saw his new smooth chest she ran her hands all over it. “Ooh! You weren’t kidding when you said you had hair removed! This is so much sexier!” She kissed him all over, spending a considerable amount of time suckling at his nipples. “And your little titties are more fun without all that hair in the way. There’s not even any hair here,” she exclaimed as she tickled his bare armpits. He giggled and twitched and tried to twist out of the way. “I’ve got to see more!” She pushed him back so that he was seated on the bed, and pulled off his shoes and socks. “Your little toes look cute now without fur on them — but you really could use a pedicure. Have you ever had one?”

“Claude took me to a place once for a manicure, but it didn’t do anything for me.”

“Maybe I’ll do your toes for you one of these days. Are your feet ticklish, too?” She quickly found out they were, and David had to struggle to avoid reflexively kicking her in the head. She thought about sucking his toes, but saved that urge for later when she noticed how sweaty his socks were. She grabbed him by the belt and pulled him to his feet again. She gave him an impish wink and crouched in front of him to unbuckle his belt. Very slowly, she then unzipped and unbuttoned his fly, letting the anticipation drive him wild. She lowered his slacks to the floor and noticed the obvious tent in his boxers. Running her hands along his hairless legs, she helped him step out of his khakis.

“I can’t believe you went this far. I thought you were too straight for that kind of thing, but to me it is very sexy so I’m glad you did it.” She threw her arms around him and pressed her lips to his for a long, wet kiss. Her hands slid down his back and sneaked under his waistband to squeeze his baby-smooth cheeks. She let out an involuntary moan, “Oooh! Very sexy.” Pulling her hands out, she took a step back and pulled the waistband of his boxers around his erection and down to the floor. Her eyes widened at the sight of his further hairlessness and pushed him down onto the bed, leaning down to get a better look. “Ay, Dios mio!”

She had trouble deciding which part of her to touch him with. She ran her finger down his luscious smoothness, but that wasn’t enough. She kissed all around his shaft, slipping a little tongue into it here and there. Going lower, she took his smooth sac completely into her mouth and ran her tongue all over it. His “chicken and biscuits” were indeed as delicious as promised. She brought the head of his penis into her mouth and started seriously sucking on him. There was no foreskin in the way — was Fine a Jewish name?

As she bobbed her head up and down on him, she like that he was resisting the urge to thrust his hips and fuck her face. She hated when guys did that. It’s much easier to keep from gagging when you have control over how far into your mouth his thing is going. She felt a tap on her shoulder, and looked up to see that David’s face was completely clenched. He was even being enough of a gentleman to give her a chance to get out of the way.

But she stayed in place and gave him a slight nod, and then gently stroked his balls to let them know it was okay. He let go and she sucked down every drop of his thick, warm juices. When he finished spurting and softened, she licked him clean and then climbed up to lie next to him on the bed. Then a realization hit her. “I forgot to check. Did you get tested for everything?”

He turned toward her and gave her a kiss, something else most guys don’t like to do after getting oral. “I’m completely clean. I can show you the doctor’s report if you need it.” For an answer, she climbed on top of him and suckled at his nipples. She was really enjoying his all-over smoothness.

David wasn’t quite ready for more, so he gently rolled her over onto her back, and began kissing his way down her own intriguing smoothness. When he got his face down between her thighs, she really appreciated the lack of sandpaper on his cheeks. She appreciated even more the way his tongue was working her button with the uneven rhythm of a gentle summer rain. She squirmed in pleasure, and felt his hands sliding her nightgown further up her body. When it had cleared her breasts, he began to tease her left nipple with her right hand, while his left went down to assist his tongue. Two, no three fingers were lightly stroking her from the inside. She rode the wave of ecstasy to its summit and let out an involuntary moan, but he gave her barely enough time to catch her breath before the next wave was on its way.

At her second peak, she made him stop by pulling his head up for another kiss. She reveled in the taste of her own musk as her tongue playfully danced with his. Both of his hands had found nipples, and she guided them into pulling her nightgown off completely. She was more than ready for him, and a probing hand revealed that he was just as ready. She took him in hand and pulled him into her eager lips.

David tried a few slow gentle thrusts, but she responded more eagerly, pushing her hips up toward him with a passion and hunger that betrayed her need. He could tell by the look on her face that something wasn’t quite working for her. He remembered that the last time they were together it seemed to go much better when she was the one in control, so he stop thrusting and held her close, then rolled them both over so that he was on the bottom instead. Since he hadn’t fallen out, they started up again.

With the change in the angle, he was now hitting her in the right spots, and her frustrated expression soon changed to one of pleasure. They moved as one to a mutual climax and collapsed upon each other. It felt so right to cuddle with her that he didn’t even mind sleeping in the wet spot. He only hoped it felt as rewarding for her as it did for him.

Oscar Night by Jennifer Brock In our last episode, novelist/screenwriter David Fine discovered that his new girlfriend fashion model Maritza Delgado preferred him without body hair. In this update, she makes a few more changes to his personal style. (No actual TG yet, but you know it's coming.)

Part 4

Maritza started sleeping over frequently after that first night. Whenever she had a free night in her schedule, she’d give David a call and invite herself over. When she had a free day in her schedule, she’d take him shopping. She loved to go zipping down the freeway in her little red classic Fiat Spider. Maritza was such a scary driver that David would spend half of the trip with his eyes squeezed shut. She’d just laugh and squeeze his leg and drive even crazier. He tried to suppress his fear and just enjoy the company, but it didn’t always work.

The first thing she made him buy was all new bath products. She said that he needed to take better care of his longer hair and smoother skin than he had been. She threw out his soap and shampoo and took him to a specialty shop to get all natural organic bath oil and body soap and face soap and shampoo and conditioner and after-bath lotion and hand cream and moisturizer. The lessons she gave him in how to use all these items were very enjoyable for David, as many of them seemed to involve her rubbing his bare skin. His favorite was when she joined him in the shower to show him how to loofah. She also had him switch his daily shower to a bath twice a week, and sometimes even slipped into the tub with him.

Then next thing she decided he needed was a change in his wardrobe. She made him get rid of all his cotton boxers and switch to silk ones. He had to admit that his hairless parts did prefer the smoother material, but it took some getting used to. However, all his qualms flew out the window when he got a surprise delivered that contained a few pairs of silk underwear in a gift-wrapped package along with a dozen red roses. The card attached said, “For my sexy boyfriend.”

He called her right away. “Thank you for the present.”

“You’re welcome. I’m working all week and won’t get to see you, so I wanted you to have something that made you think about me.”

“You didn’t need to do that. I’m always thinking about you.”

“Aw, you’re so sweet!”

“Did you mean it when you called me your boyfriend?”

“Of course, you big silly. Your silky smooth ass belongs to me, and don’t you forget it!”

“I thought we had a commitment, but it was nice to see it in writing, like it’s official.”

“It’s official enough that I’m working on a special treat for you to celebrate six months after our first date.”

“Really?”

“Yes. That’s what girlfriends do. It’s also what boyfriends do, so you’d better come up with something wonderful.”

“Um, ok. We’re counting our first date as the time I took you to the Academy Awards, right? That was the night of our first kiss, so I think I’d count from there.”

“That is correct. I knew our brainwaves were on the same frequency, or whatever you call it. Look, I’ve got to go, but it was nice to hear from you. I’ll talk to you later, Boyfriend!”

“Bye, Girlfriend!” As David snapped his phone closed, he did a little dance with himself, excited at the idea of having an actual girlfriend. He would have to put a lot of work into preparing a six-month anniversary present for her.

***

Maritza wasn’t done making changes. She decided that changing his boxers to silk wasn’t enough, and made him donate all his cotton t-shirts to Goodwill. Then she had him go shopping for some new silk undershirts in a tank style. David thought that they really didn’t look good on him; they seemed to be designed to show off a physique that was much more muscular than his.

She saw that he was kind of uncomfortable with them, so she started him on also going without an undershirt some of the time. She liked this because it made it easier for her to slip a hand in to play with his nipples. That kept him excited enough that he didn’t mind so much being out of his comfort zone, especially when she decided that it was only fair to return the favor and go braless to allow him equally easy access.

David found that many of his shirts were a little too rough to wear with nothing underneath, so he took his own initiative and asked Claude to help him find some softer shirts. Some of the ones that he picked out looked kind of silly to David, but Claude reassured him that they were fashionable. He wasn’t sure whether he could believe him, but since they were shopping off the rack he figured somebody else must be willing to wear this stuff.

The first time she saw David in his new cerulean blue silk shirt, Maritza was impressed. As soon as he greeted her at the door, she had to touch him. She ran her hands over the smooth fabric and nearly purred at him. She pulled his face to hers for a deep, wet kiss and let her fingers wander to explore the soft contours of the small of his back. She’d trapped his arms at his sides, so all he could do to return her passion was to lean into her kiss and work his mouth against hers.

She pushed him up against the wall and his hands were free to embrace and caress her as she moved her own hands to his belt. Very quickly, she had his pants open and his erection poking through the fly in his silky shorts. She grabbed his hands and moved them down from where they’d been doing pleasant things to her nipples through her dress, pulling them around and under her skirt and up to her hips.

He found the waistband of her panties and slid them off her hips. As soon as they fell to the floor, she adjusted her position so that his hands were below her supple buttocks, supporting her weight while she folded back her eager lips and slid onto him. Her hands went up to his shoulders, and she wrapped her legs around his.

With all his effort going toward holding her up, she did all the work to grind her hips against his, working him into and out of her with a steady rhythm, building in speed as she went. Every so often, her lips would meet his for a kiss when her mouth wasn’t busy making little moans.

David really didn’t have the strength to hold her up for very long, so he was relieved when he felt her tense up right before she reached a screaming orgasm. It also allowed him to stop trying to hold back his own climax. Satisfied, she let him slide down the wall so he was sitting on the floor and she straddled his lap and kissed him some more.

All the anxiety he’d been feeling about his new look faded away. David really didn’t mind becoming a little more “metrosexual” in his appearance if it was going to get his girlfriend this turned on. When they’d both caught their breath, he realized how messy having fully dressed sex in the front hall was, and they had to go get cleaned up and changed before dinner.

The next day, bolstered by David’s buying shirts on his own, Maritza decided to take his cotton to silk conversion even further. She let him keep a few pairs of athletic socks for when he exercised, but got rid of the rest of his socks. Then she drove him out to the mall to get a dozen pairs of fancy silk dress socks, in colors to match his shirts. She explained that coordinating colors would improve his look a hundredfold. He wasn’t really sure people noticed sock colors, but fashion was her job so he had to take her word for it.

To go with his new socks, he needed new shoes. She ended up talking him into buying a pair of brown Italian loafers with pointed toes that hurt his feet. She promised that as he and the shoes got used to each other they wouldn’t pinch as much, but he did notice that she hadn’t said that they wouldn’t pinch at all. It got worse when she told him that it was wrong to wear the same shoes everyday, so he needed a couple more pairs for variety. Besides the pnchy loafers he walked out it, he also left the shoe store with a pair of black ankle boots with narrow heels that made him walk funny and a pair of braided leather sandals that he was only allowed to wear in extremely informal situations. Being fashionable was tough!

She still wasn’t done spending his money. His credit card statement was likely to be the biggest he’d ever had. Luckily his books were selling well.

She then led him to a different store, where she made him try on fifteen different pairs of pants before she found one she liked. At least they were linen and not silk like everything else she made him wear, but he thought they were a little too tight in the seat. She countered his argument by saying that they could be a lot tighter. By way of illustration, she showed him how tighty the pair she was wearing were in the seat, and he forgot what he was talking about.

As a way to reward him for buying all the clothes she suggested, Maritza wanted to get him a present. But it turned out not to be a present he would have chosen for himself. She led him to a jewelry store and had the girl pierce his ears with little gold earrings. She also bought him a pair of tiny hoops to go in his ears when the piercing studs could come out. He thought that guys were supposed to only get one ear done, but she assured him that that was the old style and modern guys preferred symmetry. The girl at the shop backed her up and named a bunch of male celebrities with two earrings, but David had no idea who they were.

It didn’t hurt too much, but he earned a bunch of sympathy kisses by playing up his discomfort. It only became a real issue when he went to bed and tried lying on his side. He had to keep his head squarely on the pillow, which wasn’t easy when his sexy bedmate wanted to play.

***

Maritza’s six-month anniversary present for David was a day at a spa. It was this large complex outside of the city made of buildings that looked like they might have once been a Spanish mission. She’d driven there with the top down and didn’t like it when he pulled his hair back in a ponytail, so it was a mess when they got there and she had to lend him a brush.

By the time he caught up, she had given their names to the receptionist. She attached a plastic bracelet like they use in hospitals to David and Maritza’s wrists, and explained that the row of colored dots on it represented the treatments they’d signed up for. She handed each of them a basket and a pale pink terrycloth robe, and indicated the curtained-off dressing rooms, where they were to put all their clothing and belongings in the basket and come out dressed in only the robe. She’d keep their things safe while they were relaxing.

It was kind of silly, but he went along. The robe was only long enough to reach his knees and it made him feel very vulnerable. The terra cotta floor was cold on his bare feet, and he had to suppress a shiver. When he came back out, he saw that Maritza made the little robe look incredibly hot! She kissed him goodbye and said she’d see him at lunch. He asked her what kind of treatments she’d signed him up for, but she only giggled and wouldn’t tell him.

A cute blonde wearing shorts and a t-shirt the color of his robe introduced herself as Faith and said that she would be his “facilitator” for the day and lead him through his schedule. She led him down a hallway and said that he’d start his day of cleansing the toxins from his body with a steam bath. She handed him a towel and showed him where he could hang his robe. He was to go sit in the steam room until she came back for him.

He wrapped his towel around his waist and went through the door. He was surprised to see that the steam bath wasn’t segregated; there were both men and women sitting in there on the benches. Not everyone was wearing a towel, and it was hard not to look. He tried leaning back and closing his eyes to relax, but then he started worrying that he wouldn’t see Faith when she came for him.

Every so often the door would open and an attendant would come in to fetch someone, but never for David. He was sure that he’d been in there way too long when a brassy redhead came in and sat near him, and tried to strike up a conversation. Like him she used a towel to cover her lap, which left her overinflated breasts free for anyone to see. He had to struggle to keep from watching them as she talked. She asked him if he was in The Business and he said he was a writer. She was of course a budding actress, and clearly hadn’t been in town long because she didn’t know that writers have no sway.

When Faith finally showed up, he gave his companion a polite goodbye but rushed out as fast as he could. He was guided to a booth where Faith closed the curtain and reached through to take his towel. There was a drain on the floor and he saw little shiny nozzles all around the ceiling and down the walls and realized it was a shower stall.

Suddenly, all those nozzles shot ice cold water at him. It didn’t last very long, but it was long enough for his testicles to disappear and his nipples to turn into iron spikes. Faith opened the curtain and dried him off with a giant towel. It felt so much better than being cold and wet that he didn’t have time to register that he was naked. When he was mostly dry she helped him back on with his robe and slipped his feet into a pair of plastic flip-flop sandals the same pink color as everything else.

His next treatment was to be a deep tissue massage, so she led him to a room where he was to untie his robe and lie face down on a table. This big guy came in wearing a similar uniform to Faith and said his name was Gá¼nter, and he would be giving David his massage. He took away David’s robe and draped a towel across his hips. The massage started out as very relaxing, as he gently oiled David along his back and legs. But then it got more intense and Gá¼nter used some serious pressure to work out the knots in his neck and shoulders.

It was relaxing and painful at the same time, an odd combination of sensations. He was being brutally poked, but when the masseur moved on to a different muscle the one that had been savaged felt much better than it had before the whole thing started. Gá¼nter had him roll over after a while so he could work on the front of his legs and shoulders. David was glad that it hurt, since it almost felt so good it might have been turning him on otherwise, and that was not a reaction he ever wanted to have to another man.

After the massage was over, he got to briefly put his robe back on before Faith took him to a different room where he had to lie on a table and take his robe off. Cassandra, the attendant in this room, said that he’d signed up for a deep cleansing and aromatherapy with lavender and rosemary for stress reduction, and asked if he’d ever had it done before. He said he hadn’t, and she reassured him that there was nothing to be afraid of. Naturally, being told that made him immediately worry about whatever was going to happen.

She started rubbing fragrant oils into his temples, making little circles with her thumbs, and it felt really nice. It was very soothing. In a soft voice she told him to just relax, and it was almost hypnotic. She changed position and went around to his left side and kept rubbing at his head with her left hand, but her right hand plunged something cold and greasy into his anus! She told him to try not to clench, that it would only make it take longer.

David heard a faint humming as she started a machine, and he felt a very strange sensation in his guts. He asked what was happening, and Cassandra said that they had to fill him up in order to flush the toxins out of his system, so he should let her know when he felt too bloated to continue. When he figured out what she was saying, he realized that Maritza must have signed him up for some kind of colonic. There was nothing he could do now but just go with the flow, so to speak.

Once the machine had filled him up, it reversed and started emptying him out. Cassandra offered to show him the hose so he could see all the filth that was coming out of him, but he declined. He didn’t even want to think about it. The machine seemed to be winding down, so he was glad it was ending, but then she switched the hose and started filling him back up again. It didn’t feel any more comfortable the second time.

She told him she wasn’t satisfied with the color of the liquid coming out of him on the second flush, so she did a third one, which seemed to pass her test. After she took the nozzle out of him, she cleaned him up with a warm, wet washcloth. She also rubbed some soothing lotion around and into his opening. At some point in the process the prostate massage must have gotten him off because she had to clean him up in front, too. She asked if he felt alert and detoxified, but he was feeling so exhausted that he just nodded. She then added, “I’m sure your boyfriend will appreciate you being all fresh and pink inside,” and David didn’t really have any energy to correct her before Faith came and wrapped him up in his robe and led him to his next appointment.

Fortunately, the next item on his schedule was lunch. Faith brought him out to a courtyard where Maritza was waiting for him at a little café table sipping some kind of juice. She told him that she’d had an invigorating seaweed wrap that morning and asked how he liked his cleansings.

He didn’t want to hurt her feelings so he chose not to complain about being made to sweat until he dehydrated and then given a hypothermia shower and then roughly manhandled by a giant only to then be raped by a firehose. He simply tried to smile and told her it wasn’t anything he’d ever have expected.

Maritza got to eat a chicken sandwich, but David’s “lunch” consisted of a large yogurt smoothie designed to replenish his intestinal flora. They also warned him not to eat a heavy dinner. He had to content himself by watching her chew.

Unlike the morning that took them in opposite directions, their afternoon schedules were the same. First up, they’d be getting facial treatments. They were shown into a large room where they got to sit in adjacent salon-style chairs. Amber the facial therapist did Maritza first, so David got to watch each step of the process before it was done to him.

It wasn’t that bad at all. First, she washed their faces with a gentle cleanser. Since he’d already had a steam bath and a shower, David thought that the only cleansing he really needed at this point was to remove the oils that Cassandra had rubbed into his face. The second step was to wrap their faces in warm, moist towels, which was perfect and heavenly and the most comfortable he had been all day.

Since he had a towel on his face, he didn’t get to watch the next step being done to Maritza, but it turned out to be a rough scrubbing that Amber said would remove any dead skin cells. She complimented David for his soft complexion and close shave, and he told her he’d been lasered. Maritza chimed in and said that he’d been lasered everywhere, and it was delightful. That seemed to throw Amber, as she’d been under a different impression about their relationship.

She then loosened up the skin with a brief facial massage, after which she spread a crazy looking mud mask over their faces, and let it set there a while. Once the mask came off, Amber finished up by rubbing a lotion all over their faces. He looked in the mirror and felt clean and shiny. Maritza looked beautiful, even without any makeup on.

Amber left and a new pair of girls came in, to work on each of them simultaneously. They started with a manicure, which David wasn’t so sure about although he did enjoy the way she massaged his hand before working on the nails. There was some rough poking at his cuticles, but for the most part it wasn’t that bad. After trimming and filing his nails, the girl (whose name he never got) buffed them to a very glossy sheen.

Maritza was getting her nails painted as well, but David didn’t think he wanted that. She showed him that she was getting what’s called a “French manicure,” where the nails were painted in pink and white for a look that was natural, but cleaner. He didn’t think that would look too extreme, so he let them do that to his nails, too. A heavenly foot massage and a pedicure followed. There was no point in trying to argue it, so he let the girl do the French thing to his toenails as well.

It was time to check out, so they returned to the receptionist, who scanned their bracelets and gave them their baskets. David went to a dressing room and put his clothes back on. With the glowing complexion and shiny nails added to his silk shirt and tight pants and little pinchy shoes, he realized that his look was probably extremely gay. But he knew he wasn’t, and his smoking hot girlfriend knew he wasn’t, and that was really all that mattered.

Oscar Night by Jennifer Brock Last time, fashion model Maritza Delgado gave her boyfriend a trip to a day spa as a present to commemorate their first six moths together. This time it's novelist/screenwriter David Fine's turn to give her a gift. This installment does contain some actual cross-dressing, although probably not as much as some of you were hoping for. (David's best friend, clothing designer Claude Marsh does not appear in this section, but he's probably still scheming somewhere.)

Part 5

After David had experienced his first facial, Maritza convinced him to add a cleanser and moisturizer to his nightly regimen in order to keep the fresh look. It was a bit of a hassle, but he had to admit the results were worth it. It dealt with all the grime of living in the city, and gave his skin a healthy glow.

The following weekend it was time for David to give Maritza her anniversary present. He wouldn’t give her any more information about where they were going other than that she should wear comfortable clothes and flat shoes.

He’d programmed their mystery destination into his GPS and wouldn’t tell her. And the further out of town he drove, the more frustrated she became over not knowing, particularly because he wasn’t driving fast enough for her. She was almost ready to make him stop the car so she could get out, when she saw that they were headed for the speedway.

Maritza was livid. “Your big surprise for me is to go see a NASCAR race? We’re going to drink lame American beer with a bunch of hicks and watch cars drive in a circle? Do you know nothing about me? Why would I want to just sit around and watch something? That’s not me at all! And this race must not be popular, because this parking lot is practically empty. Who’s racing today, anyway? It must not be anyone I’ve heard of, like that Jeff guy or that other guy who’s the son of the guy who blew up.”

David tried to calm her down. “That’s not a nice way to refer to someone.”

“Is it my fault I don’t know his name? Anyway, it’s a really bad surprise. Can we just go home?” She turned away from him and pouted.

“Hey, cheer up. I think you’ll know at least one of the drivers out there today.” He tried to turn her face toward him and she slipped out of his hand.

“I don’t believe you. Anyone I’d know would have drawn a crowd.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“The parking lot is empty because there’s no race today.” She tried to interrupt, but he cut her off. “But what is open today is a driving class, where actual racing professionals teach amateurs how to drive race cars, and I enrolled you in the class. Because you don’t watch things, you do them. And you love to drive fast, so here’s a place where you can go as fast as you dare.”

She looked at him through slitted eyes. “Really?”

“Really. I know your present for me was something we could do together, but this is something for you to do and me to watch. Now as soon as you apologize to me, we can go check you in.”

“Apologize? What for?” She put on an innocent face and batted her eyelashes.

“You are so difficult sometimes!” He leaned over and stole a kiss. She melted into it and grabbed his shoulder.

She broke the kiss and gave him a playful nip on the chin. “Making up is half the fun in fighting.”

He tousled her hair. “I swear. If I wasn’t so in love with you, I don’t know how I could put up with your moods.”

She grabbed him for another quick kiss. “When do I have to check in? Is there time for a quick trip to the back seat? (It is the one good thing about your car.)”

He checked his watch. “I don’t think so. You can thank me for my present later.”

“Oh, this wasn’t for my present. This was to mark the first time you said you loved me.” She kissed him again.

“I did? Oh, I didn’t realize I hadn’t said it before. I knew how I felt about you almost from the start. Couldn’t you tell?”

“Sure, but sometimes a girl likes to hear it.” She gave him another kiss and then stepped out of the car. He sighed and looked at her, his Venezuelan goddess, standing there looking no less glamorous in her faded jeans and tank top than she does on the catwalk. A little voice inside him cried out that boys like to hear it, too, but he shut it down. He took a deep breath, adjusted his sunglasses, and opened his door.

They walked across the lot to a glass door in the back of the building, with a sign that let them know it was the right place. A cute twentyish brunette wearing a NASCAR t-shirt was sitting behind a simple desk. She looked up and pulled a laminated card on a lanyard off of a stack and held it out to Maritza. “Show this pass to the security guard and you can get into the stands to watch your man drive. They’ll be in class for a couple hours before they hit the track if there’s somewhere you want to go in the mean time. Guests are welcome to join us for lunch.” She turned her attention to David, and picked up a clipboard. “Your name, please?”

David took the pass from his girlfriend and spoke up. “You’ve got it backwards. I’m the one here to watch. She’s here to drive. Her name is Maritza Delgado, although it’s possible they put the reservation in my name since it went on my credit card. I’m David Fine.”

The confused girl looked at her list. “I wasn’t expecting any girl drivers. We do get them occasionally. Ah! I see the problem. You must have made the reservation by phone. I had you down as ‘Mauricio,’ you know like the Formula 1 driver Mauricio Gugelmin? Oh well. Go through that door and Jim will tell you what to do.” She pointed.

Maritza thanked David again for her present and kissed him goodbye. He put the guest pass around his neck and returned to the parking lot, where he got his computer bag out of the trunk. He walked over to the front gate and showed his pass to the security guard, who wrinkled his nose at David. “I didn’t know your kind liked racing. The rest of the wives and girlfriends usually like to watch from the luxury seats in Row Four. I’m sure they’d love for you to join them,” he said with a sneer.

David didn’t feel like correcting the guy. He just sighed and shook his head as he walked away. He decided to go sit with the other spectators anyway, figuring he’d correct any misconceptions they had based on his appearance if it mattered. He found the spot and the only one there was a bottle blonde overflowing from her low-rise jeans sitting there playing with a baby that was sitting in a car seat. David gave her a little wave when she looked up, but he took a seat at some distance.

They were out of the sun, but the air was dry and kind of polluted, so he took a bottle of moisturizer out of his bag and did his face, his hands, the back of his neck, and his arms where they stuck out of his sleeves. He’d just taken his laptop out and was searching for a wi-fi connection when his phone rang. Maritza had texted him, “Need u now. Meet in lobby. Urgent.”

He zipped up his bag and ran out of the stadium. He hoped it wasn’t something too terrible. Maybe the class was a bunch of rednecks who didn’t want a woman there. Maybe they’d become violent, or worse. If anything had happened to her because of a “present” he’d given her, he didn’t think he could live with himself anymore. He didn’t even have time to hear the epithets the guard threw at him on his way out.

He was out of breath when he made his way back to where he had left her. She looked fine, so he was relieved. She was wearing a real racing jumpsuit and looked like a professional driver. He couldn’t see anything wrong and wondered what the urgency was. She pulled him into the ladies’ room and started getting undressed.

As soon as he caught his breath David told her, “You had me worried that something was wrong with your urgent message. Not that I’m complaining, but if it was just a booty call you could have warned a guy.”

Maritza laughed. “No, no. I didn’t call you here to have sex. Now take your pants off.”

He was confused and just looked at her.

“I need your underpants. These suits may be fireproof, but it’s really itchy to sit in with bare skin. I don’t think a lot of NASCAR guys wear thongs. I want to trade underwear with you.”

David just shrugged and did as he was told. He slipped off his shoes and dropped his pants. Watching his sexy lover wiggle out of her jumpsuit made his little friend stand at attention. “Are you sure you didn’t call me in here for sex?”

She leaned down and lowered his silk boxers then planted a kiss on his disappointed member. “Sorry. There’s no time.” She handed him her pink lacy thong, still warm from where it had cozied up to her most intimate of places. “But you may need to take care of that yourself before you can fit in these.”

He looked down at the tiny panties and considered “going commando,” but he thought his jeans might be a little rough on his hairless genitals, so he tried slipping on the thong. And just like she predicted, it really didn’t fit over his erection. He looked over at her and saw that his underpants made her look much sexier than hers looked on him. She zipped up her jumpsuit and put her sneakers back on, then thanked him and kissed him goodbye.

David was stuck in a ladies’ room with a raging hard-on and miniature underpants. It probably wouldn’t be a good idea for him to hang around in there for too long. Lacking a better idea, he took Maritza’s advice and went into a stall. He pulled his panties to his knees and sat down on the commode, then took matters into his own hand.

It was lucky that he’d just moisturized. It made his hand soft and slick. That combined with the extremely recent memory of his girlfriend’s naked posterior made it very easy for him to get himself off. He stroked softly at first, but then built up in intensity. When he felt ready to explode he aimed at the bowl. He got a few drops on his fingers, but he licked them clean before grabbing some toilet paper to wipe himself. He was able to fit in the tiny thong, although somewhat uncomfortably. It reminded him of all the wedgies he’d gotten in middle school.

He was walking kind of funny when he returned to the security checkpoint, and the guard had a few more choice words for him. He tried to ignore them as he sashayed on back to where he’d been sitting before.

The young mother eventually introduced herself as Kirsty and her baby as Billy Junior. Billy Senior was down in the class. She looked askance at David and asked who he was there with, and he told her his girlfriend loved to drive fast so he got her the racing class as an anniversary present. Kirsty seemed to relax when she realized he wasn’t some “weird homo pervert” or whatever she’d assumed about him.

More spectators showed up as the morning drew on. Bonnie, an older heavyset woman, was a housewife from Wisconsin who’d planned their trip to California around the racing class she’d bought for her husband’s retirement. Laurie was a businesswoman overdressed for the occasion. She was bored and clearly didn’t want to be there, but it was important to her son that she be there to watch. Heather was a brassy redhead in a tight t-shirt and extra-small shorts, who was there to watch her boyfriend Bucky learn to race. She explained that he had a dream of becoming a professional racer, so she’d saved up her tips for months to get him there.

Andrea was a nervous mouse of a middle-aged woman who looked like a schoolteacher or a librarian. David smiled to himself when she pulled out a paperback copy of Condensation to read while she was waiting. He tried making conversation and asked her if she thought it was a good book, and she said she wasn’t sure if it was the kind of book a person like him would enjoy. He tried again and asked if she knew the movie would be coming out in a couple of months, and she looked him over and decided that he must be in the business, so she went off on a rant about how no one in LA reads anymore. David just decided to back off and leave her alone.

He couldn’t find a wireless internet connection, so he just settled back and worked on some writing. His publisher was holding back on releasing Deposition, his latest book, to see how Condensation the movie did first, so they’d know how much to brag about it being from the same author on the cover. They were already entertaining studio bids on the new one even before it was published, so David was getting an early start on adapting the screenplay.

He got through two-thirds of his computer’s battery when a voice came on the loudspeaker to get their attention. The students were going to do their first laps on the track. Everyone stood up and cheered when their respective drivers went by. They weren’t going all that fast, but it was still thrilling to watch. The announcer identified his sweetie as “Mauricio Delgado,” to match what the receptionist called her, but it got him some odd looks from the others. David had to explain how it was a joke based on a clerical error, but it didn’t look like they believed him. He said that if they were going to be around at lunchtime they’d see that she was definitely a girl. He was tempted to show them a picture of her on his phone, but he didn’t want to come across as pushy.

The students each did another couple of slow laps, then they went back to class to talk about what they’d done wrong. David and the women talked about how each other’s drivers had done on the track. Heather was a little worried that Bucky hadn’t seemed to have done as well on the turns as some of the others. Kirsty told her not to fret about it; this was Billy Senior’s fourth time at the track and he still wasn’t cornering properly. She told David that he should be proud of “Maria” as she seemed to be handling the turns like a natural.

Lunch came from a silver catering truck that pulled out onto the track where some picnic tables were set up so they could look at the cars while they ate. It was a variety of unhealthy foods served buffet style from oblong tinfoil dishes, fried chicken, French fries, coleslaw, and biscuits. At least they offered bottled water as well as soft drinks.

David made a big point of giving Maritza a passionate embrace and a deep kiss when she came out, as a way to assert his heterosexuality, even if it did make his panties particularly uncomfortable. They sat down and introduced everyone around. Billy Senior didn’t look as redneck as David had imagined; he seemed like an ordinary guy in his thirties, with a decent vocabulary and no hint of an accent. He said he was in real estate, and asked David what he did.

David said he was a writer, and Maritza stepped in and outed him, talking about his books and his movies and giving his full name. He caught Andrea looking embarrassed at the realization, and tried to shrug it off with an apologetic glance.

Bonnie’s husband Ted was a big man with a full beard that would probably look more at home in a lumber camp than a racetrack, but he had the wide-eyed smile of a little kid at being allowed to play with the racecars. Andrea’s boyfriend Chuck was a surprise. He was a slick charmer who was “between jobs, but some investments were about to pay off.”

Laurie took out a box lunch of something green and sprouty to share with her son Nathaniel. The race school had been a present for his twenty-second birthday. When Maritza opened her jumpsuit and ate in her sweat-soaked tank top that left very little to the imagination, Nathaniel kept staring at her when he thought no one was watching. Then Kirsty started feeding Billy Junior and Nathaniel couldn’t decide which breasts to peek at.

Two buddies Pete and Rob had come to the race school together and had left their wives at home. They were in computers or something. David didn’t pay too much attention; he was distracted by the sensual way Maritza was licking her fingers.

Bucky, who was exactly the stereotype David had expected complete down to the tobacco juice he kept spitting, sent Heather out to get a six-pack. The head of the school wouldn’t allow any drinking and threw them both out. They all got in a shouting match in the parking lot, and the teacher came back alone and apologized to the others for having to hear it.

David got another deep kiss when the group broke up after lunch, and the drivers went back to class, and their guests went back to sit in the stands.

When the cars came back out this time, they went at full racing speed for ten laps of the track. This was much scarier to watch. Even though there were experts in the passenger seats, the amateurs were driving. The cars went by so fast, it was a blur. Everybody cheered for every driver this time.

Then there was an intermission, which most of them needed. Nervous energy can really make you have to go to the bathroom. David opted to sit in a stall so that in case some other guy walked in he wouldn’t see his panties. But he had a problem when he was done because seeing the pretty lacy wisp of cloth between his silky smooth legs was turning him on, and he had to wank off again to get it to fit in his panties. He tried adjusting things for a more comfortable fit, but it just wasn’t working.

After intermission, the drivers came back for another ten laps, this time correcting all the mistakes they’d made the first time out. The spectators all stood up and went down to the railing for a closer look. While Andrea was watching Chuck zip by, David snuck her book out of her purse and autographed it, writing “To Andrea: It’s good that someone in LA still reads — David Fine.”

After Maritza did her laps, the announcer came on the loudspeaker and said that she had the best time for the day. David was very proud of his sweetie. None of the racers who came after her beat her time. She ended up winning a little plastic trophy. They made her pose for a picture of it being handed to her, and she had David play the part of the racetrack beauty queen and hand it to her in the photo.

Since she’d beaten all the boys on the racetrack, they agreed to let her have the locker room alone so she could hit the showers first. She dragged David in with her. Driving like that had really gotten her turned on. She peeled off her jumpsuit, her sweat- drenched tank top, and David’s soaking wet boxers. He was too slow for her, so she helped him get his clothes off, and laid him down on the plank bench in the locker room. He was ready for her, so she easily mounted him and held him against the bench while she flexed her knees to bounce up and down on his shaft.

Her thumbs began to tease his nipples as her hips rocked around in a circular motion. He tried to buck his hips back toward her, but he didn’t have a wide range of motion available. She arched her back and began to tremble, and he realized how close to orgasm the engine must have brought her, if she was getting off this quickly. It was the first time she came first without him having to hold back his own climax.

She collapsed upon him and kissed him, working her lips all over his face, from one ear to the other and then from his forehead to his chin. He answered her passion with his own. She dismounted him and took him by the hand into the shower area, which was an open space with a row of nozzles like you always see in prison movies.

She chastised David for failing to bring their quality soap and shampoo with him; they had to make do with the inferior industrial-grade stuff that was provided so they went quickly. He offered to wash her back for her and she took him up on it. When they were all clean, she couldn’t put her sweaty clothes back on, so she put her jeans on without any panties, and wore a souvenir t-shirt instead of her original tank top. She even put her sneakers back on without any socks.

David’s boxers were too wet, so he had to put the thong back on. She said he looked sexy in it and declared that he should wear panties more often. He wasn’t sure about that, and got his pants back on as quickly as he could. At least the embarrassment kept him from getting another uncomfortable erection.

Maritza thanked the instructors for a fun day, and David placed an order for a DVD of the experience for her, that they’d be editing together from footage taken by cameras both inside and outside the car. They went back to his car, and she thanked her boyfriend for such a perfect gift. He agreed to let her drive home, if she promised to go no more than five miles above the speed limit. She negotiated him up to ten.

Oscar Night by Jennifer Brock Last time, novelist/screenwriter David Fine took his girlfriend model Maritza Delgado to a racetrack to learn to drive fast, and she loved it. In this installment, there are new developments in their relationship, and David's Friend fashion designer Claude Marsh reappears when it's time for the new movie's opening night.

Part 6

Maritza was busy for most of the month of September, and collected a few thousand frequent flier miles. If David hadn’t changed his calling plan to put her in his circle, his phone bill would have been monstrous. Her international roaming charges were obscene, but he chipped in a little. It was worth it to be able to stay in touch.

In the beginning of the month, she flew down to Acapulco for six days to do some catalog work, posing in swimwear in various natural locations. She described some of the things she’d worn to David over the phone, and picturing her in them only made him miss her more. She promised to try to get him on the mailing list so he could see for himself, since they didn’t let her keep anything. David gave her a ride home from the airport, but she just wanted to crash after her long flight and sleep for a day or two. He brought her to her apartment and tucked her into bed. He asked if she wanted company, but she was already out.

He didn’t know whether she was the kind of girlfriend who’d expect her boyfriend to stay over anyway, or if she’d consider that a serious invasion of her personal space. He chose to compromise, and left her a note that read, “Hi, Sweetheart. Call me when you wake up. I wish I could have just crawled in next to you, but I’ve got to go home. I’m behind schedule on my latest draft. Love, David.” He didn’t feel like too much of a weasel, since it was pretty much true, but he did feel ashamed that he didn’t know Maritza well enough.

When she called him several hours afterwards, she sounded disappointed that he didn’t stay and cuddle, so he kept that in mind for the next time. He cooked dinner for her the following night, and all was forgiven. She slept over, and they stayed in bed until noon, enjoying one another’s company in every way possible. David didn’t get a lot of work done with her hanging around, but he really didn’t care. Three days later she was on another plane.

She spent four days in New York shooting a perfume ad, and from there went directly to Milan to work a private show for some big shot David had never heard of. Sometimes her job sounded exotic and exciting, but other times it just seemed like too much discomfort and sacrifice.

After Milan, she only had three days in L.A. before she had to be in Miami to pose in the background of a music video, so David wanted to make the most of their time together. He met her at the airport when she got back from Miami, and took her back to his townhouse. He had a welcoming feast prepared for her, but she had other plans. She told him to let the food wait and led him up the stairs, shedding her clothes as she went.

He wasn’t stripping nearly fast enough for her, and she ended up tearing his shirt to get it off. She threw his naked body onto the bed and insistently mounted him, trying to release the urges that had built up inside her since they’d last been together. He took her energy and redirected it, turning her urgent sex into slow, sensual lovemaking, keeping all her passion but also matching it with tenderness. Ninety minutes later, they were both well-satisfied but sweaty and famished. He threw a light dinner together quickly while she grabbed a shower.

They shared a delicious meal of grilled chicken strips over a tossed green salad, but were dressed more for breakfast: he in his silk undershirt and boxers, she in his bathrobe. The moment just felt so comfortable. Maritza leaned over and gave him a kiss, savoring the vinaigrette on his lips. “You are an excellent chef, my love.”

He kissed her back. “Thank you. Your dinner was going to be veal medallions in a wine sauce with new potatoes, with an assortment of steamed vegetables, but we can have that tomorrow or something.” Then something in her words sank in. “Wait a minute. Back up. What did you call me?”

“I called you my love.” She kissed him again, knowing full well why he was surprised. “Because I love you. And I realize that I never said it before, but I was very scared. I don’t like to be so vulnerable.”

“You don’t need to be afraid. I will never hurt you. And in case I haven’t said it enough, I love you too.”

She kissed him again, and let her robe fall open. His hands moved to gently caress her, but then she pulled his shirt off, and her kisses drifted down to suckle at his nipples for a while before their path downward. Her tongue penetrated his navel while her eager fingers freed him from his shorts. She straddled his chair and lowered herself onto him, giving him a faceful of breasts to enjoy. His tongue found its way around some spots that drove her wild, and she reacted by wriggling faster on his.

They eventually finished in the dining room and went back upstairs for a shared shower, before collapsing together in bed, their naked limbs intertwining. She ended up spending all three days at his place, and only went back to her apartment to pack before going to the airport for her next trip. He really enjoyed having her around.

Upon her return from Miami, she had a little more of a break before her next business trip. They took a three-day weekend up in the wine country and they didn’t have any real clashes staying in the same room, so David decided to ask Maritza to move in with him.

Her first reaction was to try to laugh off the idea. But the more she thought about it, the more it felt like the right thing to do. On her recent trips, she had felt something she hadn’t in a very long time — homesickness. For all the new and interesting people and things she was seeing, she really wanted to get back home. And for the first time, “home” meant where she left her boyfriend, not where she left her mother. She accepted.

Claude’s business had a white cargo van they borrowed to move her things over. Her modeling agency rented the place for her furnished, so it was mostly her clothes that needed to be moved, plus a few personal things. The master bedroom at David’s had two closets, so he moved his things into the smaller one, and let her have the big one. Even so, her wardrobe still spilled over into the closet in the second bedroom, which he had been using as his writing room. She tried to put the things she wore less often in there, but for some reason she still occasionally went looking through that closet when getting dressed. Having his sexy, nude girlfriend rummaging through the closet across from his desk kept him from getting much writing done, but it was a sacrifice he was willing to make.

She had a few jobs in town, and it felt very good to come home to a delicious supper on the table, and a loving partner. David only had to adjust his menu a bit so she wouldn’t gain any extra weight. She had a regular exercise routine that did most of the work to keep her toned, and joined him for his nightly swims. He regretted that he wasn’t able to show her off by daylight, but she wanted to avoid any unnecessary sun.

***

Unfortunately, Maritza was in Tokyo when Condensation had its Hollywood premiere. David would have liked to show up with a pretty girl on his arm, but he felt like there would be many more events it the future that he could bring her to. It scared him that he was so nonchalant about just expecting to have a future with her, but in his heart of hearts he just knew she was the one he would spend the rest of his life with.

He called Nadine, his publicist, and asked her if she’d go with him. She was kind of surprised since he’d never asked her before, but he explained that previously when he was a single guy, it might have been seen as inappropriate to take her on what might look like a date. But this time around he had a girlfriend, so it would be just like all those married guys who bring assistants and agents to things when their wives can’t make it. Nadine had met him through his publisher, so more of her clients were from the world of literature and not showbiz. She jumped at the chance to go to a Hollywood Event. He tried to tell her that this movie wasn’t a big blockbuster or anything, but she got excited anyway.

Claude put a new look together for him for the premiere. He wanted to tone down David’s newfound “metrosexuality,” so that it wouldn’t tip his hand prematurely. But he also couldn’t let David know his real reason for butching up his style. He said that he wanted to make it up to him for pushing the fashion envelope at the Oscars by getting him to better blend into the crowd at his big premier. Since David knew full well that the spotlight wasn’t going to be on the screenwriter as much as on the cast and the director, it made a lot of sense.

Claude started by putting him back in cotton underwear and socks. David felt weirdly uncomfortable in things he’d worn most of his life. Then he gave him a plain white pleated shirt and a black wool tuxedo that didn’t even have a silk lining. Claude wanted him to have no fluidity or grace to his movement, so he put him in coarse clothes. Similarly, the shoes he picked to go with the outfit were shiny black loafers in a larger width than David usually wore. Claude thought the whole thing made him look kind of like a teenager going to the prom, which suited the plan perfectly. There was no way anyone would suspect anything out of the ordinary.

He had David remove his earrings, claiming that they might catch photographers’ flashes and twinkle, attracting unwanted attention. The only other issue was his hair. He needed to hide those flowing tresses. Claude pulled it back into a ponytail and secured it with a transparent elastic band, and then took a handful of gel and slicked it back to mask what was holding it in place. All he had to do was wear the jacket over the ponytail, and the length would be hidden. Claude was almost ready to let him go, when he noticed David’s French manicure, and had to take the time to clean the polish from his fingernails. He tried to say that David’s nails were in need of a fresh treatment, but he told Claude that it had only been a couple days since he had been to the manicurist. But he’d already started with the remover, so it was too late.

David looked in the mirror and wondered why his friend seemed to be turning down the “cool” in his look, but it would definitely keep reporters from bugging him. Maritza called to wish him luck and he told her that Claude was making him look kind of like a dork, but she said that was a good thing; she didn’t want any other girls hitting on her man. He said he’d have his publicist acting as his date, but she knew he was taken. He had a girlfriend who he loved madly and missed incredibly. She chuckled and told him she loved him too and would see him soon, but then she had to go.

Nadine showed up looking very cute. She was a petite blonde who was a little heavier than a starlet, but still had a decent figure. Her hair was in a fancy updo with a few escaping ringlets. She wore little rhinestone-studded cat’s eye glasses, and wore a sunflower yellow satin babydoll dress with little spaghetti straps and a hemline that flounced out. David worried that it would defeat the plan to blend into the crowd, but Claude was glad that it would take even more attention off of David. She was excited enough that he really just stopped worrying.

In the limo on the way to the theater, she told him that her sources had told her that industry buzz was already pretty good about this film. He teased her that he’d never heard about “her sources” before, and she got kind of giggly and said that it wasn’t a big secret. Mainly, his publisher had been talking with the producers on some combined advertising ventures, and they were expecting the book to need the movie’s fans more than the movie would need the book’s fans. David was really uncomfortable thinking about having fans in general, and now he had two different kinds.

He got quickly knocked off the pedestal he was building for himself when the car rolled up at the cinema and a security guy knocked on the window asking who it was. When the driver said it was the writer, the crowd of photographers made a collective noise of disappointment, and the bouncer told the driver he was too early and he had to circle around and come back in ten minutes. It was weird being famous, but not famous enough. Heck, Claude was a fashion name and had done wardrobe for the film, but he didn’t even get invited.

He tried talking about business with Nadine while they were killing time, but she didn’t want to. He had some questions about whether he’d have to do a book tour in conjunction with the movie, but she didn’t have her Blackberry with her with all her notes. The little bag that matched her yellow dress didn’t have room for it.

Watching the movie wasn’t easy for him. He had to see other people interpreting his characters, and there were several times when the actors or director had made decisions that caused his characters to do things they never would have done. And as a premiere this was even tougher because he hadn’t seen the completed film before. He’d been on set a few times, when scenes were causing problems and needed to be rewritten, but that had only given him a glimpse at how his babies were being raped. Okay, maybe that was too strong a metaphor, but it felt damned close to that.

At least the audience seemed to like it. They applauded at the end, and the director stood up and took a bow, and waved to the cast to stand also. David wasn’t sure if he wanted him to stand as well, so he stayed hidden. He didn’t even have to worry about whether he was invited to the after party, because Nadine felt that the buzz would be very good, so she wanted to get back to work as soon as possible.

The movie opened nationwide and was a huge hit, not Summer Action Movie huge, but Early Fall Poignant Drama huge. The critics loved it even more than the fans, and they all were calling it the one to beat at the Oscars that year. Buzz was very good.

Unfortunately, buzz was a little too good. His publisher was doing well with the paperback editions of Condensation with a picture from the movie on the cover, but they’d decided to hold back on printing Deposition until the negotiations for the film rights had finished, so they could make sure to include language allowing for more cross-promotion.

The only good news was that they weren’t pushing for him to go on a book tour. He really didn’t like those. Traveling around the country sitting at a card table in a shopping mall or giant bookstore for hours, living out of hotel rooms, having to be pleasant around all those people, even the ones who were sweaty or smelly or gross, none of that appealed to him in the slightest. He preferred to relate to his readers from a distance.

***

For their first Thanksgiving together, they had Claude and his latest boyfriend Antoine over to share the wonderful meal David had made. Maritza met them at the door. Despite looking like a big burly macho black guy, Antoine was delicately holding a beautiful bouquet of flowers, which he handed to his hostess. She welcomed them in and slipped past David in the kitchen for his vase. He made her stop so he could cut the stems before sticking them in water, and she set the vase in the middle of the table. He handed her a tray of hors d’oeuvres and a pitcher of sangria and shooed her out of his kitchen.

Maritza chatted with the boys while her housekeeper finished the feast. They all agreed that David’s little puff pastries stuffed with cheese and mushroom paste were scrumptious, but she told her guests they wouldn’t want to fill up. Countless delicious aromas had been coming out of the kitchen all morning. Claude agreed that David was the best nonprofessional chef he knew, and he was looking forward to his version of the ultimate American dinner.

Antoine shared some tasty celebrity gossip. He worked for a security company that occasionally hired him out as a bodyguard for C-list stars who didn’t have a regular entourage, and so he often found himself on the scene of breaking scandals in the business.

His latest tidbit concerned a certain pop princess who was trying to sell herself as a legitimate actress. Apparently, she’d thrown a tantrum on the set of her latest film when she couldn’t memorize her lines and still deliver them believably, so the director fired her despite the expense of needing to reshoot all her scenes with a new actress. She was just that bad.

Antoine’s impression of Little Miss Thing breaking down in front of the director and begging him to give her a second chance had Maritza and Claude breaking out in giggles. When “she” offered to do for the director all the things he’d seen in her amateur sex tape, Maritza almost wet herself from laughing.

When David came out to fetch everyone for dinner, they were all having a great time. He liked the feeling of having his home filled with family for the holiday. Maritza and Claude weren’t his blood, but they most definitely were his family, unlike those cousins that had put him back on the mailing list for their holiday newsletters only after he made the bestseller list.

Maritza gasped at the sight of the dining room table. He had cooked far too much food for four people, and the spread was incredible! There were four kinds of vegetables: steamed asparagus spears under hollandaise sauce, honey glazed baby carrots, sliced beets in a sweet and sour Harvard sauce, and buttered sugar snap peas. He’d made both mashed white potatoes and sweet potatoes, and rolls fresh from the oven in case that wasn’t enough carbs. His cranberry sauce was made from scratch; she’d seen him making it the night before. And in the center of the table was the main attraction: a perfectly roasted bird that he’d been basting every half hour all morning. It had been filled with chestnut stuffing using fresh chestnuts and his grandmother’s recipe, and he’d rendered the drippings and giblets into gravy that begged to be tasted.

They all overindulged and collapsed in the living room afterward, falling asleep to a DVD of Miracle on 34th St. David cuddled up on the couch next to his Sweetheart, and wished he could just live in that moment forever. He woke up to discover that she’d abandoned him to go clean up the meal, with some help from their guests. Since everyone seemed to have their second wind, he brought out the pies: a pumpkin, an apple, and a pecan; he had trouble deciding which kind to make, so he’d baked three.

Claude and Antoine stayed long after dessert, and he made sure to send them home with some of the leftovers. All in all, it was a holiday memory to be cherished. Maritza felt guilty about all the calories, so she led him down to the pool for a swim by moonlight in the brisk air. He almost refused, but seeing her in her tiny bikini in the cool night distracted his brain too much to complain. And when she kissed him in the pool, he couldn’t feel the temperature anymore. It was definitely his best Thanksgiving ever.

***

Maritza flew home to Venezuela to spend Christmas with her mother and sister. She wasn’t ready to introduce David to her family yet, and he still needed to work on his Spanish before he could get around down there without needing her to translate everything for him. She was going away for a whole two weeks, and she didn’t want him to forget her. So she came up with a plan.

Remembering how she’d borrowed his boxers at the racetrack, she raided his underwear drawer, packing all his silk undies in her suitcase. She even waited until he was in the shower to do it, so he had nothing to wear of his own. He came out to see her standing there in nothing but a pair of his boxers.

She smiled and traced a heart on his chest with her finger. “I want to think about you every day when I’m gone, so I’m going to wear these instead of mine. It will also prove to you that I won’t be trying to look sexy for any other men while we’re apart.”

“You still look very sexy, no matter what you wear. But that is a very sweet gesture.”

She crouched down and slid herself along his body. She licked and kissed each of his nipples before going down any further. She found his smooth skin so sexy that she wanted to kiss every inch of him. “I want you to think about me every day, too.”

“Don’t worry about that. I’m sure you’ll be in my mind, as you are always in my heart.” He gave a little shudder as she moved down and took his fullness into her mouth.

She very adeptly ran her tongue and lips around his most sensitive spots, and quickly brought him near to the point of completion. She looked up into his eyes and gave a slight nod when her fingers sensed the tension, so he would know it was okay to let go. He exploded into her mouth and she swallowed every drop. As he shrank down to normal size, she cleaned him off with her tongue, enjoying the feel of his hairlessness. When finished, she stood back up. “So I think it’s only fair that you do the same.”

He’d lost track of the conversation, and thought she was talking about what she had just done for him, so he started sinking to his knees. She corrected him, “No, Silly! Not that.” She pulled him up and led him across the bedroom to her bureau. She opened a drawer and pulled out a lacy pair of pink bikini panties. “While I’m wearing yours, I want you to wear mine. Here. Try these on. They have a little more coverage than the last pair that you borrowed, so they should fit better.” Before he could even process a thought, she’d bent down and coaxed his feet to step into her frilly undies and had pulled them up into place.

They had an actual back to them and did fit more comfortably than the thong he’d worn at the racetrack, but they rode a lot lower on his hips than he was used to. His beloved was smiling at him, so he tried to smile back. “If it’s that important to you, I guess I could try it. If you’ve taken all of mine, I’m not sure what other option I have.

She tried to dress him in linen pants, but he thought the pink was visible underneath. He wore his blue jeans instead. She made him wear one of his tighter silk t-shirts as a compromise. When she kissed him goodbye at the airport, she said he should feel free to borrow any of her clothes if he wanted to, and gave him a little wink. He said he would miss her terribly, but they’d have their own little Christmas celebration when she got back.

Oscar Night by Jennifer Brock In this installment, we see how novelist/screenwriter David Fine spends his Christmas alone as his girlfriend, fashion model Maritza Delgado has gone home to Venezuela for the holiday. David explores his feminine side a little more, helped in part by the fact that Maritza took all his underpants with her, forcing him to spend two weeks in her panties.

Part 7

The day after Maritza left, the major undertaking that would be her Christmas present began: he was going to get her closet redesigned. David rummaged through her drawers to try to find the pair of panties that offered the most coverage, but all of them seemed much too small. He wondered why he’d never noticed her affinity for tiny panties before. The pair he settled for on the first day were canary yellow, in some kind of cotton/spandex blend. They covered about half of his rear end, and had a nearly decent-sized triangle of fabric in front, but there was nothing to the sides but a double row of thin elastic string. He didn’t think the yellow would show through his linen pants. He completed his outfit with a powder blue silk blend polo shirt and sandals, since he’d be home all day.

It was still morning when Terrence came over. He was a contractor that Claude had recommended, who’d done amazing work for some of his friends. David had seen pictures of the closet systems Terrence had installed, and they looked like the sort of thing he was interested in, so he made an appointment. Terrence looked like the right kind of guy. He was a tall man, with broad, muscular shoulders and a strong jaw. His skin was a shade of tan that might have been from sun, or might have been from some mixing in his ancestry. His wavy black hair was kept in place by a fair amount of product. He wore a tight green T-shirt, faded jeans, and a well-worn pair of workboots. He carried a beaten leather messenger bag.

He shook David’s hand and introduced himself. David took him upstairs to the bedroom, and showed him Maritza’s closet. Terrence took out a clipboard and a measuring tape and began making notes and measurements, seeing how much space she currently was using. David showed him around to his office to see the rest of her wardrobe, and he made some more notes. Then he took some more measurements in the room, and in the office. He also opened David’s closet and made some notes. Then he looked around the bedroom, asking which drawers were whose, and making some more measurements.

He asked David whether any his bedroom set was a family heirloom, or if he had some kind of special attachment to it. David wasn’t really in love with his furniture, but he didn’t know why it mattered. Terrence said that he’d show David some ideas for replacing some of the pieces with new units that would coordinate with what he’d do in the closet. He pulled out a laptop computer and David left him alone for a while. He went down into the kitchen, made a pot of coffee and watched the news.

Terrence came down with a couple of ideas to show David. He had a 3D model of the bedroom on his computer. He started with a simple option, where all he did was rip out all the white wire shelving and hanging rods from the closet and replace it with his modular closet system components. He’d chosen a nice stained cherry that coordinated well with David’s bed. It did look nicer, and he told David she could probably get about 40% more of her things into the closet. He then punched up a revision of David’s closet that looked fairly decent. He explained that it would be weird when he went to resell the townhouse if the two bedroom closets were completely different, so he really ought to get them both done at the same time.

Finally, he showed how his system could work in the office closet. He had two thirds of it filled with a double row of hanging bars for Maritza’s surplus, and the other third had bookshelves at the top and file drawers on the bottom, so he could actually use his office for office stuff. He kind of liked that idea, but he wasn’t really sure how he managed to get talked into paying for three closet makeovers when he only wanted one originally.

Terrence had even more tricks up his sleeves. He said that just changing out the closet interior and installing his system would probably be enough of an improvement for some people, but what every woman really wants in a closet is one she can walk into. He opened up a new model of David’s second floor, where he’d made some serious revisions.

David’s closet was pretty much the same as in the first version, but Terrence had punched out the wall in the back of Maritza’s closet, and gone about three feet into the office. He showed what her new closet would look like, and it had two tiers of hanging bars across part of it for blouses and skirts and pants, and another part with taller bars for dresses and coats, and a double of row of special shoe drawers all along the bottom, and some pull-out baskets for flat storage of sweaters and things that don’t get hung up, and an integrated lingerie cabinet with drawers for all her delicates. The capper was that he’d added a full-length mirror to the back of the closet door, with full-spectrum lighting. David had to agree that it did look like the dream closet every woman had ever told him about.

But Terrence was just starting to show David his plan. Over in the office, he’d made a new closet in the space next to where Maritza’s closet jutted into the room, and it was all bookshelves and file drawers. Unlike the cherry in the bedroom, he’d used pieces with a more masculine oak finish. He showed how his modular units could be easily swapped out, so that if they needed to turn it back into a bedroom when the time came to sell, it would be easy to do. He recommended leaving the doors off until then.

On the other side of the room, he’d taken the frame off of the existing closet, making an alcove about two feet by six feet. When the room needed to be a bedroom, it might be a good spot for a twin bed, but for now it was a good location for David’s desk. And Terrence went one further. He showed how he could do a nice built-in desk that would match the closet elements. He pointed out the different features, about how it would have special compartments for his printer and his computer, and a wall mounted shelving unit with indirect lights underneath.

David was nodding at the idea of the built-in, so Terrence flipped back to the bedroom and showed a new layout of the room itself. Since there were now drawer elements in the closet, the bedroom didn’t need two large chests of drawers and a dresser as well. Since one chest had been doing double duty as a TV stand, Terrence’s new vision for the room had a large built-in multimedia cabinet opposite the bed. It matched perfectly the units in the closets, and had extra storage space as well as room for all his audio/video equipment and an assortment of CDs and DVDs.

The only old piece of furniture he’d kept in the room was the bed. On each side he’d added a freestanding nightstand from his collection that coordinated perfectly with the built-ins. Opposite the closets, he’d made another built-in, only this had drawers and cabinets on the sides and a place for Maritza to sit and do her makeup in the middle. And it had a mirror mounted on the wall above it with more concealed full-spectrum lighting.

It looked kind of weird to David, almost like a piece that belonged in a kitchen. But Terrence explained that built-in bedroom cabinetry was not something new. It was all over the place in Europe and some more modern parts of China and Japan. People used to have freestanding closets in their bedrooms until they met the convenience of building it in; it was only a matter of time before everyone did the same with their chests. He showed David some photographs of other rooms he’d done, and he had to admit they looked nice.

He asked if it would feel too much like a hotel, all cold and impersonal. Terrence popped open a video of a woman showing off her new bedroom and bragging about how much she loved it. She described how luxurious it felt, knowing that her pieces were made especially for her room. She also talked about how much easier it is to clean when you don’t have to go under the furniture, and nothing dropped on the floor ever gets lost.

David wasn’t sure. He said he had to think about it. Terrence printed out pictures of both the simple closet installation and the extensive remodeling, with a price quote on each one. The fancier version was thousands more than David had been expecting to pay, so he said he’d have to get back to Terrence later that day. The shook hands and he left.

David wasn’t sure if he was feeling pressure to do the big change because Terrence was such a good salesman, or because he just really liked the prettier rooms. He took his paperwork and went to see Claude for advice. Over a couple of light beers, Claude helped him get at what was really bugging him about the project. He was still afraid that Maritza was going to find someone else and leave him, and he’d be stuck living in the space he’d spent a small fortune to fix up for her.

Claude put his hand on David’s shoulder. “Wow. You’ve really got a lot on your mind. It sounds like you’re worrying about two different things at once.”

“What do you mean?”

“First, you’re feeling insecure about your relationship. And second, you think this is a lot of money to spend on fixing up a closet. Let’s look at that second part first, because it’s easier. You’re a famous author with two bestsellers to your name, and an Oscar-nominated screenwriter. You’re not living the life of luxury like most people in your shoes would. You can afford a few thousand for some home improvements. And it’s not like you’d be throwing your money away; it’s an investment. I’m sure you’ll make your money back when the time comes to sell your place.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“And I’m not hearing you say that you don’t like these designs. So I think you should go for it.”

“But what about the other thing?”

“Okay, you’re worried that your girlfriend is going to leave you and you’ll be stuck living with a bedroom you had built for her. If that happens and the place reminds you so much of her that you’re moody and depressed all the time, you can just move.”

“You’re not going to tell me that I’m worrying pointlessly? Do you know something? Is she secretly seeing someone else?” David’s voice showed that he was close to panicking.

“Hey! Back up a couple steps and take a breath. I’m a firm believer in the philosophy that all things are temporary. You should know me better than to think I’d back you up on your dream of finding happily ever after — I’m more the “find a happy now and let ever after take care of itself” kind of guy. I don’t know anything specifically about your girl losing interest in you. And from what I do know about her personality type from having worked with her, she’s very straightforward; if something wasn’t working for her, she’d tell you. If I’m remembering correctly what you told me, she was the first one to bring up the idea of a monogamous relationship with you. So I’d guess you’re pretty safe with her for now.”

“She’s only been gone a day, and I miss her already.”

“Aww, that’s sweet. You’re just lucky I’m in love myself or I’d vomit. But she’s gone on trips for business before, so what makes this one harder to take?”

“A couple things. I think mostly it’s the season. Christmas was always a big deal back home, and it’s bad enough that the weather around here doesn’t feel the slightest bit wintry, but it just wasn’t the same without anyone to share it with. Um, present company excepted, of course. It’s feeling kind of like that first lonely Christmas after Nana passed.”

“Well, it’s totally not the same. Maritza isn’t gone forever. You know she’ll be coming back. When’s she scheduled to return?”

“The twenty-eighth.”

“Good. Then I expect to see you both at my New Year’s Eve party.”

“I think we can do that. Thanks. I think it helps having something to look forward to. You’ve convinced me that I should call Terrence and go ahead with the project. It will give me something to take my mind off missing her.” He leaned in and continued in a conspiratorial whisper, “You know, she did something to make sure I’d be constantly reminded of her.”

Claude played along and whispered back, “Oh? What was that?”

“She took all my underwear with her. I’m stuck wearing her panties for the week.”

Claude’s eyes widened. This was working better than if he had planned it. “How’s that working out for you?”

“They’re not very comfortable. I couldn’t find a pair with enough room in the front.”

“There’s an easy solution to that. Push your genitals back between your legs and your panties will fit better. Just make sure you’ve got a pair with decent width in the crotch.”

“That sounds like the voice of experience.”

“I was young and trying to discover what it meant for me to be gay and into fashion. I tried that scene for a while, and it really wasn’t my cup of tea.” Claude was afraid this topic of conversation might scare David off, so he changed the subject. “Anyway, I think you should call Terrence back right away, to make sure he can schedule the job to have it all done before she gets back. If you left him with the impression you’d be turning him down, he might be out trying to drum up a new project.”

David pulled out his cell and called Terrence, telling him he wanted to go ahead with the big remodel. He said that ideally he’d like it finished before the twenty-eighth, and Terrence took a moment to check his inventory and then said that it shouldn’t be a problem getting the materials in that time frame. The tricky part would be trying to get permits and schedule building inspections on short notice on a holiday week, but he thought he could call in a few favors to get it done.

David said he could pay extra to have it done quickly, but Terrence insisted that he would only do work if it was done with all the right codes and permits. And particularly because there would be some electrical work involved, it would mess with David’s insurance if they tried to cut corners. Claude had an idea and took the phone to suggest that Terrence could try looking for an inspector who liked to read, and maybe David could sign a first edition for them or something. He said he’d see what he could do.

***

Tucking things back did make his panties fit better, although he wouldn’t exactly call it “comfortable.” He caught his reflection in the mirror as he was dressing and it was weird. With smooth legs coming out of lacy panties with no unsightly bulges, and long hair and shiny nails and little gold earrings, he almost looked like an ugly woman with no figure. He hadn’t realized until that moment how all the little things he’d done to change his style weren’t just things that gay men and “metrosexuals” did; they were things that women did.

He wasn’t exactly sure if he wanted to be that feminine, and his dilemma was made worse when Maritza called him the day after she arrived. She was laughing, and told a story about how she’d shown her mother a picture of him on her phone, and she’d yelled at her. Her mother thought Maritza was showing her a woman, and didn’t want her daughter having a girlfriend that wouldn’t be able to give her grandchildren. Maritza had to show her a copy of one of his books with his picture on the back cover to prove that he was a man. She thought that was hilarious, but it made him feel a little uneasy.

Then it just got strange when Maritza started talking all sexily about putting her hand down into his boxers, describing in detail his pair with the red and gray stripes, and he finally understood that she was talking about the ones she was actually wearing. She’d been describing how she was touching herself. She then wanted him to tell her which of her panties he was wearing, and it got very awkward. Part of it was that he didn’t really have the right vocabulary to describe them.

He said that he’d picked them because they were blue, but after he put them on he found out that they were like lace everywhere except the cotton crotch panel, and they were very clingy. The waist was very low, and didn’t quite come all the way up to the top of his rear. She told him that he must be wearing her sexy stretch lace boyleg panties, and pointed out that she had a stretch lace camisole top that matched them. She thought it would probably fit him, since their chest measurements were around the same size. She teased him that it would be so sexy if he got it out and put it on.

He tried to humor her and just pretend to put it on, so he let her talk him through finding it in her lingerie drawer. It was really not much more than a tank top made of the same stretchy lace material as the panties. At that point it seemed easier to just put it on than to try to lie to her. Her guess was right — it did fit. But then she wanted him to do things to himself that took him even further from his comfort zone.

She had him describe how his nipples looked through the lace, and then pinch them until they stiffened. Then she wanted him to slip one hand inside his top and stroke his “breast,” while his other hand reached back to tease his “booty cleavage.” He had to admit that it was turning him on a little, but when she talked about slipping a finger inside herself and wanted him to do the same, he drew the line. He brought his hand around to the front of his panties instead and stroked himself until she got herself off and ended the call.

It was a strange experience, but he went to sleep still wearing her lingerie anyway. He breathed in the perfume still in her pillow, and slept on her side of the bed. He imagined that it was her silky leg he was touching, and her smooth arms that were holding him, and he drifted off into a dreamland of fantasy.

***

A couple days later, a large van showed up at David’s townhouse, and four people got out and started unloading equipment. Terrence introduced the rest of his crew. Jorge and Rafael were both well-muscled Latino men in sleeveless t-shirts. They looked similar enough that they were probably brothers, but David didn’t want to say anything in case they weren’t related and he was just having a “they all look alike” moment. Karen was a tall black woman who radiated glamour even in her work clothes. Terrence had them carry in three large rolling garment racks like you’d see in the costume department of a film studio.

He asked David if he had any objection to other people touching his clothes; sometimes his clients didn’t realize that having people working in your closet meant having people handling your things. David chuckled and said he didn’t mind. The first step in the process was clearing everything out of the old closets. Jorge dropped off a stack of collapsible plastic crates in the office, and Terrence asked David to break down his computer, and to pack up anything confidential from his desk area; his crew could handle the rest.

It was amazing. In the space of a few hours, they’d cleaned out two rooms. His living room was now filled with racks of hanging clothes and a couple neat stacks of crates, all labeled with Post-Its. His bedroom now contained only a bed, which was shoved over against the wall. The only thing he was keeping from his writing room was the chair, and it had been carried down to the dining room. His old desk, file cabinet, and chests of drawers were loaded into a truck and hauled off to be donated to the needy.

The next day, David had to go down to the living room in his bathrobe to look for something to wear. He felt very subconscious about needing to find the box in the stack labeled “Lingerie: bras and panties” before he could get dressed. He had to move three boxes to get into it, so he was in quite a hurry and just went with the first pair of panties he could find. They were satiny with a leopard print and almost a thong in the back. He put the boxes back and pulled a shirt and a pair of pants off the rack of things from his closet.

Once the workers arrived, the morning was dedicated to demolition. David had to move his car so that a temporary dumpster could be parked in his space. The first things that went were the doors from all three closets, and then they ripped out all the interior wire shelving. They’d gutted his closets completely in the time it took him to make a pot of coffee and then bring a tray of cups up to them. It was kind of cool seeing how big the space in the closets looked with nothing in them.

After their coffee break, the demolition got more serious. They covered his bed with a drop cloth, and then started ripping out the drywall inside the closets. It was dusty work and he wasn’t wearing a breathing mask so they shooed him out. They threw most of the pieces into the dumpster from the bedroom window, which kept the mess from spreading through the house.

After tearing out the drywall, they used a cool little cordless power saw and cut out the studs from the back of Maritza’s closet, and from where the front of the closet had been in the office. It was really pretty cool. When they were all done smashing stuff, they used a heavy-duty vacuum and cleaned up after themselves.

Karen found David and talked to him about some details he hadn’t even thought about. She needed to order the materials they’d be needing after the new walls were done. She had a few paint chips to show him, to pick the color of the walls in his office, and to pick the interior color for Maritza’s closet. She had little samples of the wood finishes that would be used in each room. She suggested a white for the closet that she said had a bit of pink in it, although he couldn’t see it. It just looked white next to the cherry. I seemed to work okay, so he agreed to it.

For the office, she had a couple of color options. One was a pale celery green that seemed to work well with the golden tones of the oak, but seemed a little too cool to him. The other was a parchment yellow that he felt would be a better environment to work in, so he picked that one.

Next she had carpet samples to show him. First, since he’d gone for the yellow walls, she had a tan sample that she wanted to use in the office. It had a low, tight pile that would make it easier for his desk chair to roll around. He thought that was a good decision. And remarked that he was impressed with how thorough they were

She then showed him a piece that had been cut from the existing carpet from Maritza’s closet, and the closest she could come to it with a similar Berber. She said they could use that in the floor of the new closet, or they could just cut a piece from the old carpet from the office and use that, which would be a perfect match to the rug in the bedroom but it wouldn’t look as new.

He thought about it and decided that it was more important for the closet to seem continuous with the room, so he voted for cutting it from the old one. Karen went up to tell the team to save a chunk before they threw the old carpet out the window, and she was just in time.

The last step they did that day was the framing for the new walls. They took measurements down to their truck where they had a miter saw and a stack of two-by-fours. Since the new closet walls weren’t very big they had them framed out in no time.

Terrence came back alone the next day, to run the wires for the new electrical connections. But then they had to wait a couple days to get inspectors to come in and check things before the new drywall could go up.

***

While he had a couple days to kill, David took a huge step. He took both his mother’s and his grandmother’s diamond rings to a jeweler to get them cleaned. He wasn’t definitely going to give on to Maritza, but he wanted to have them ready, just in case. He knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, but he wasn’t sure he was ready to ask her. She might not be ready to answer.

The jeweler wanted to know if he wanted to get either of the rings sized, to make sure they’d fit his intended. He wasn’t sure, so he called Claude and dragged him down there for an opinion.

David felt that his grandmother’s ring had a stronger sentimental connection for him, but Claude thought its marquise cut diamond wouldn’t fit Maritza’s hand as well as the more classic round cut on his mother’s.

But he also thought that it would be a mistake. “This isn’t the right time for you to ask her. Hang onto these rings a little longer.”

“But I know she’s the one now. I don’t need any more time to decide.”

“You need to be asking for the right reason. I think you’re still insecure. You wouldn’t be asking because you’re ready to build a future with her together; you’d be asking because you’re afraid of being alone. I think you just need to give it a little more time, so that by the time you’re ready to ask you’d be sure what her answer will be.”

“I know you don’t believe in marriage. Are you just trying to work on convincing me to share your opinion?”

“I am a strong believer in romance, and I know what you dream of having the wife and kids thing, and I want you to be happy. I just don’t think you’re ready. She could very well be the one, and if she is she’ll still be there in a couple months. You’re already doing the big closet thing for Christmas; maybe you can save the diamond for Valentine’s Day.”

“Okay. Maybe that’s a better plan. So which one should I get sized, and should I do it now or wait?”

“I’ll tell you what. Let me hang onto them for you. I’ll get some similar pieces the next time I use her in a show, and I’ll try to see which style she likes better. And then I’ll take that one to get sized for you, and when you’re ready to ask her I can give them back to you and let you know which one to use.”

“Wow. You’d use your show to do something like that for me?”

“That’s what friends are for, David. I’m sure if I ever needed a big favor you’d be there for me, but this time it’s my turn to be there for you.” Claude expected that he would be asking David for something huge in the not too distant future, but he really did believe that he was acting in his friend’s best interests.

***

The building inspector signed off on the framing, and then a day later the electrical inspector also approved the work that had been done. As soon as he left, Terrence’s boys were back to work, putting up the new drywall. It wasn’t a very big wall, so it didn’t take long at all. They taped up and spackled the seams and left it to dry overnight.

The next day, they came to paint. First, the bare walls got a coat of primer, and then the colors went up. David felt like he should be trying to help, but the team worked together so efficiently, it seemed like it would be like trying to cut in at a ballet performance. While the paint was drying, Terrence double-checked the measurements.

The next day was a Sunday, but they came back anyway to install the carpeting. They must have taken the old piece from the office to be steam-cleaned or something, because it looked new when they put it down in Maritza’s new closet. And it blended perfectly with the bedroom carpet.

The new carpet in the office looked great. Even though this project started out as doing something for his sweetie, David was getting a pretty cool writing room out of the deal. The office side of the new wall then got new baseboards, in a finish that would match the new woodwork. David hadn’t noticed when they’d ripped the rest of the baseboards out in there, but the whole room had new ones by the end of the day.

The day after that was Christmas Eve, and David felt bad that they were still working for him on a holiday. He went to Terrence and told him that he’d rather the project not get done on time than to have to make people work through the holiday. Terrence compromised by only working half a day on Christmas Eve, and taking Christmas off completely, but only if David would let them work an extra-long day on the twenty-sixth and twenty-seventh. David still thought they were working too hard, but agreed.

Their projects for the day were installing the built-ins in the bedroom and the desk in the office. They’d partially pre-assembled everything at their shop, so they were able to get it all installed in a few hours. David shook Terrence’s hand and thanked everyone for doing a good job so far. He gave each of them a Christmas card with a hundred dollar bill inside on their way out. He’d thought about trying to get them gifts but had no idea what to get.

He brought his chair back up to the office and set his computer on his new desk, and he really liked it. He tried to call Maritza but her phone went to voice mail; they must have already gone to mass. He wasn’t sure what time it was for them, or what time they’d be in church. So he slipped one of her nightgowns over her pillow and cuddled with it for a while. He really missed her, but it was still too early to go to sleep.

He went down to the kitchen and tried to have some dinner. But it was Christmas Eve, and he had a big pile of leftover cookies that the renovators hadn’t eaten. So after his cheese sandwich dinner, he sat eating cookies and drinking eggnog, because you had to have eggnog with Christmas cookies, and you had to have rum in your eggnog; it just wouldn’t be proper otherwise.

So he sat there at his dining room table, sipping well-fortified eggnog and eating cookies, while staring into the living room at the racks on which all Maritza’s clothes were hanging. He was drunk enough to have gotten a little silly, and a little sappy, and thought about how easy it had been to imagine that Maritza was still around when she had made him wear her lacy lingerie top. He looked over again at the garment racks, and wondered if she had anything else made of that material.

He brought his cup with him and walked over to browse the racks, just out of curiosity. He wasn’t going to do anything with her clothes; he just wanted to look. But then he saw this thing that was probably a nightgown. The top part of it was that stretchy lace stuff like the camisole he’d worn before, but below the waist it billowed out into a satiny skirt. It was a bright Christmas red, which made it even more perfect. If he were to put it on, it would be like Maritza was there with him to celebrate the holiday. She also had a nice bright red robe that might have been supposed to go with it, so he took that too. Then he went to the box and picked out a pair of red bikini panties to complete his ensemble.

He was giggling and a little too giddy when he tiptoed up the stairs. He took off his clothes and then realized that if he was going to do this, he needed to do it right. It wouldn’t be fair to those pretty things to go onto the body he’d been sweating in all day. He took a shower, making sure to use the flowery-smelling soaps that Maritza liked him to use, and ran the conditioner through his hair twice.

She’d taken some of her grooming tools with her, but not all of them. David tried to copy her routine for drying her hair, using the thing with the little fingers that snapped onto the end of the hairdryer, and one of her special brushes with the vent holes in them. He thought he got it right, because his hair came out fuller than he’d ever seen it before.

He sniffed all of the perfume bottles she’d left behind until he found the scent that he enjoyed the most when she wore it. He sprayed some all over, and then closed his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair. It was easy to imagine that it was her hair he was touching. He shivered, and realized that he wasn’t wearing anything.

He went to the bedroom and sat on the bed to get dressed, but decided that it would be really wrong and hard to explain if he made a mess in her panties. He got a towel and a bottle of her lotion and took care of things. When he’d finished he shoved his softened parts back and pulled up his panties. Then he took a deep breath and crossed his fingers, and tried the gown on. It fit! It was kind of tight around the waist, but it was elastic and he got it around himself okay.

He looked in the mirror, and he saw a homely woman in a pretty Christmas gown. If he squinted his eyes, he could fuzz the image enough make her more attractive. He ran his hands along her lacy breasts and over her silky rear. He parted his lips and imagined a kiss. He got into bed and the skirt rode way up, so he had to get out and try it again, trying to remember how Maritza would do it. He smoothed down the silky skirt then sat on the edge of the bed, and held the gown onto his legs as he swung them around. He felt like a girl in her bed on Christmas, but around then all that rum caught up to him and he became very sleepy. He drifted off before he got a chance to fantasize.

A huge headache pounding in his skull woke David up the next morning. He felt a little disoriented, and only remembered what he was wearing when he got out of bed. He stumbled to the bathroom and took a couple aspirin, then took a moment trying to figure out how to maneuver all his clothing to use the toilet. It seemed like it would be easier to just hold his skirt up with one hand and sit like a woman. He wiped when he finished, since it seemed appropriate, and he didn’t want to drip on Maritza’s nice things.

He stood up, tucked himself back into his panties, and let the gown drop. There was that woman again in the mirror. Her hair wasn’t as fluffed up, but it had that gorgeous, messy, “just had sex” look to it. He still could smell her perfume, so he wasn’t ready to shower and change yet. He slipped into the coordinating robe and went downstairs.

He put on a pot of coffee and poured himself a glass of cranberry juice while he waited. Sitting in a chair in a nightgown felt strange. He tried crossing his legs like a woman, and there was an odd sensation when his silky smooth legs rubbed against each other. He looked down at his bare toes and wished his feet were just a little smaller so he could fit into Maritza’s shoes.

He remembered that she did have a pair of slippers that were pretty much socks with special soles on the bottom, and those might actually fit him. He dashed into the living room to figure out which crate they’d be in. It took him a few tries before he found them in with some other slippers. They had pink and white stripes, which didn’t quite go with his red nightgown, but they fit.

The coffee maker beeped, and a large cup with plenty of cream later, David was in better spirits. He had a sudden realization that it was Christmas morning, and he turned on the stereo for some holiday cheer. His favorite radio station had changed to an all-carols format for the week. As the throbbing in his head settled down, he started singing along with the songs. When “Deck the Halls” came on, and he got to “don we now our gay apparel,” he danced a little twirl to show off his gown, and started giggling uncontrollably.

As he was dancing around the room, he also realized that his halls had not been decked as yet. They were supposed to celebrating a late Christmas when Maritza got home, but his townhouse was still undecorated. He’d been focusing so much on getting her present ready (and a little time playing around in her underwear) that he hadn’t gotten out his boxes of decorations yet. He didn’t even have his tree up.

If he were to go get out his Christmas stuff, he’d then need to get dressed, and he was still having fun in his sleepwear, so he put it off and got something to eat. The little curious voice in the back of his head said that if he did have to take off the nightgown to work on Christmassing up the place, maybe he could try on some more of her clothes and wear what she would have worn to if she were doing the decorating. But his sensible nature prevailed, and after breakfast he put on jeans and a t-shirt and a pair of his own moccasins and lugged his holiday stuff out of the garage.

He needed space to put up his Christmas tree, so he pushed his dining table over and rolled the garment racks into his dining area. His tree was a seven-foot tall pre-lighted artificial spruce that he’d picked up not long after coming to California. Getting real trees always used to depress him, as they’d stand in a saucer of water and slowly die, shedding needles all over the carpet.

He had about half the ornaments on the tree when his phone rang. He got his hopes up that it was his Sweetheart, but it was just Claude checking in to make sure he was okay all by himself. He and Antoine had gone skiing in Utah for the holiday. It amused Claude to flaunt his boyfriend in front of a state full of Mormons who wanted his tourist dollars. David told him he’d been decorating, but skipped the part about twirling around in a lacy nightgown.

He got the rest of the ornaments on the tree and then took a break to eat lunch, even though it was already nearly suppertime. He wasn’t too hungry so he just pulled some leftovers together into a sandwich. He wondered what time it was in Venezuela, and if it would be a good time to call. There was only one way to find out. He opened his phone and pushed the button.

She answered on the second ring. “Oh, hey Baby! Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas to you, too. Is it okay to call now?”

“Sure. We weren’t doing much. Yesterday was when we do the big celebration. Today is for peaceful reflection.”

“I was doing some reflecting, but mostly just about how I missed you. I’m glad you’ll be back here in three days.”

“I miss you too, Baby. It’s nice to see my family, but I’m just about ready to go back home to you.”

“I’ll have a big surprise present to show you, that I hope you like.” David hoped the construction would all be finished before she got back.

“I’ve been working on a surprise for you, too. And I’ve made arrangements for something extra special to be delivered the week after I come home.”

“You’re definitely piquing my interest. Will I get my surprise right away? I don’t think I’ll be able to keep from giving you your surprise as soon as you’re here again.”

“I’m not sure. It might have to wait until Sunday.”

“That reminds me, we’ve been invited to a New Year’s Eve party at Claude’s. Can I accept for us?”

“He’s your best friend, and sometimes my boss, so I think I’d have to say yes.”

“Thanks. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Maritza sort of whispered her response, and David could overhear some loud female voices in the background talking rapid Spanish. “My mother is overreacting right now, and I have to go calm her down. I’ll talk to you later, Baby!” She hung up to quickly for him to say goodbye.

He finished with his decorations and then debated with himself over what to wear to bed. Part of him wanted to see how much fun he could have in her nightgown if he didn’t fall asleep right away, but another part of him was terrified that he might like that too much. He ended up choosing to slip between the sheets completely naked. It turned out there was still a lingering aroma of perfume on the pillow, so that curious part of himself had an easy time running his hands over soft, smooth skin and imagining a nude woman in the bed.

***

The next morning, he picked a particularly feminine pair of panties, just to be fun. They were pale purple satin with pretty ivory-colored lace all around the leg openings. They only covered about a third of each cheek in back, letting the rest peek out sexily. He could really feel his jeans against his bare skin when he sat down.

The crew arrived and went straight to work. The first step in installing the closet system involved attaching some bracket-type hardware to the closet walls. They had to be measured precisely, and David could tell that his watching them work wasn’t helping any. He left to make sure there would be coffee when they were ready to take a break.

Karen was down in the living room double-checking her inventory lists, and sorting Maritza’s hanging things by length to make sure that their plan allowed for enough space for everything. She noticed David coming into the room and pulled him aside. “Can I speak frankly with you?”

“Sure. Is there a problem? Will everything not fit or something?”

“No, nothing like that — I was going over my count of drawers and noticed something.”

David wasn’t sure he liked the expression on her face. She looked devious. “What’s the matter?”

“Well, drawers. You don’t have any.” His confused face made her explain further. “You know how we’re putting in ‘His’ and ‘Hers’ closets? I realized that we don’t have any underpants for the ‘His’ closet here, even though our plan was going to give you a drawer for them. And when I checked your laundry hamper, (I wasn’t snooping; we’re putting new ones in the closets, so I had to make sure all your laundry would fit) I saw that all you’ve got in there is ladies’ panties. I don’t know why you thought you had to tell us some elaborate story about your imaginary girlfriend. Terrence has done closets for transvestites before. If you’d just been straight with us — oh wait, wrong turn of phrase — if you’d just been honest and told us both closets were for you, we might have been able to fit your needs better.” She folded her arms and glared at him.

David was close to losing his composure. He’d been so stupid! He should have expected the people working on his closet to have noticed that! He told Karen his whole embarrassing story about how his girlfriend had taken all his underwear on vacation with her, and he had to show her several pictures of Maritza on his phone before she’d believe him, but by the end they were both laughing. She agreed not to tell the boys his little secret, and would be going ahead with giving him an empty underwear drawer in his new closet.

Once all the brackets were in place, Rafael and Jorge starting bringing the modular pieces that would attach to them in from off the truck. They were very nice looking pieces of cabinetry, all cherry and brushed nickel. They brought David up to see how Maritza’s closet looked empty, and it was very impressive. It looked exactly like it had on the computer.

While Karen and Terrence worked on loading Maritza’s wardrobe into all the assigned spaces, the boys started putting the brackets in the other closets. They were a very well organized team, and David still just felt in the way. They were going so smoothly, it looked like they’d be finished that day without having to stay too late. He asked if they’d let him cook a nice dinner for them in appreciation for their outstanding work, and they took him up on the offer.

He kept busy in the kitchen and stayed out of their hair. He made his chicken and dumplings, because that recipe was easy to extend to a larger group. He didn’t have enough of any one fresh vegetable, so he steamed a combination of broccoli, carrots, and snow peas, and served them in a light butter sauce. It was a simple meal, but they all ate heartily and complimented him. He humbly said it was the least he could do after they gave him such beautiful new rooms.

He gave Terrence his final check, and thanked him again. They packed up their equipment, and all David had to do was load his confidential files into his new filing cabinet. He loved his new writing room, and was sure it would be an excellent space to work in. He started working on notes for a new novel just to be sure. The new indirect lighting was perfect for word processing.

***

Claude came over to see the new closets the next day and simply gushed over them. He absolutely loved the woodwork, but the best thing in his opinion was the full-length, natural light mirror. He was so jealous of Maritza, and warned David that he should rest up before getting her at the airport, because she would be screwing his brains out in gratitude for hours over getting such a spectacular space!

Of course, he was so anxious he barely got any sleep the night before she was to return. He thought about taking her car, so she could drive it home. But he’d hate to have something happen to her Baby while he was behind the wheel; she’d never forgive him.

When she saw him waiting when she got through customs, she wanted to drop her suitcases and run into his arms, but there was a security guy standing by a sign telling people to stay with their bags. So she had to work her way through to him and hand him her luggage before she could through her arms around him and kiss him forever.

When they came up for air, they exchanged “I love you”s and had a little debate about who missed whom more, that nauseated the old married couples around them, but they didn’t care. She was home. A few more kisses accompanied their walk through the parking lot. Her flight had worn her out; David was glad he hadn’t made her drive.

She was so tired when they got to the townhouse that she just wanted to collapse. She asked if her surprise could wait until the next day, and pouted at him when he said he didn’t think it could. But then he led her upstairs into the bedroom, and she saw the new furniture, and the new closet doors, and she smiled when she realized what her surprise was.

He opened the door and showed her her new closet, and she got a kind of second wind cooing over all the wonderful little spaces. It took a moment for her to notice that she had much more closet than before, and he took her around to see the changes to his office. She approved. He brought her back to the bedroom, and made sure she saw all the features of her new dresser with integrated vanity table and lighted mirror, and then she started fading again.

He helped her undress down to his green striped boxers, and then stripped himself down to her sheer yellow boyleg panties, and then spooned her as she drifted off to sleep.

Oscar Night by Jennifer Brock Last time, we saw how novelist/screenwriter David Fine spent his Christmas holiday alone, as his girlfriend fashion model Maritza Delgado was back in Venezuela visiting her family. In this installment, we follow Maritza on her first full day back in town, as she prepares a surprise for David. (There's not a lot of TG in this one, and it's a little shorter than usual.)

Part 8

Maritza woke up cuddling her pretty boyfriend, and snuck a hand over and gently stroked his baby-smooth behind. He was so sexy in her panties! It was too bad that she’d brought back his boxers, but she was ready to wear her own underwear again. His were just too loose and bulky to work under some of her clothes. And if she was going to be wearing her own panties again, it was only fair to return his. But his little butt just looked so cute in satin and lace!

She’d spent two whole weeks away from him, and she really missed being with him. She’d been so worn out from her flight that all they’d did her first night back was sleep, and that just had not been enough. She slipped out of bed and went to brush her teeth.

Peeling off her boxers, she decided to wake David with a kiss, hoping the lingering taste of toothpaste in her mouth would counter his morning breath. She rolled him onto his back and brought her lips to his. He squirmed a little, but didn’t wake up completely. It would take something more to bring him around. She licked her fingers and started playing with his nipples.

He groaned a little, which seemed like a good sign. She moved her right hand down to stroke the front of his panties, but there was no bulge there — he was totally flat like a real girl! Further investigation was required. She tugged the panties down off his hips, and found the hidden treasure, where it had been pushed down and away. When sprung free, she lightly kissed him and then tickled him with a quick puff of air.

He started showing more signs of life, so she gave him a little more attention. She took him into her mouth and sucked gently, slurping her tongue along his most tender area. Feeling it stiffen inside her mouth was a major turn-on, and she had to let her left hand drift down to take the edge off her growing desire.

When he’d reached his full size, she moved her mouth to the side and ran her tongue along every surface of his shaft. David was making little sounds by that point, so she figured he was awake enough. She crawled up and kneeled straddling his hips, and then lined everything up before slowly lowering herself onto him.

It was wonderful to feel him inside her again after so long! It was as though she hadn’t truly come home from her trip until that moment. She bounced upon the man she loved, and noticed that he was flexing in response to her. He was clearly more awake than he looked. She increased her speed and intensity, and made sure that he was hitting all the right spots.

He waited until after she’d been satisfied to let his juices flow, so he must have been mostly awake. She leaned down and whispered, “I love you, Baby,” and gave him a deep kiss.

After cleaning herself off somewhat in the bathroom, she went into her incredible new closet to get dressed. It was the best present anyone had ever gotten her. With a space that was customized just for her, it felt less like she was living in David’s place and more like a space for both of them.

Wearing his boxer shorts for two weeks had been sexy fun, but it had also meant two weeks of visible panty lines. It was refreshing to get back into a lacy little black thong. After popping on a pair of nude knee-highs, she slid her legs into her favorite ultra-tight jeans. She picked out a seamless tan t-shirt bra and a tight sleeveless red top. Her ensemble was completed with her distressed chocolate brown leather jacket and matching ankle boots. She loved the way all her shoes were organized in their own little spaces!

Before coming out of the closet, she got out her gym stuff and threw it in her bag. All her purses and totes were hanging on special hooks — it was soo cool!

She gave David another kiss on her way out, and grabbed her purse and sunglasses. Even in December, in L.A. you never leave the house without your shades. She took her keys and went to the garage to see how much her other Baby missed her. It wasn’t quite warm enough to leave the top down, particularly after having spent a couple weeks in the equatorial warmth of Venezuela.

She got in and turned the ignition, then let the motor warm up for a bit before taking it out. Mama needs to treat Baby gentle when she first wakes up. When the sound of the engine let her know it was ready, she put it in gear and pulled out of the garage.

She went for a cruise on the freeway just for fun. Her sister didn’t let Maritza drive her car, even though she was the one who’d paid for it, so she really missed driving. Lucia would probably get along well with David; they were both scared of the way she drove.

Eventually, she made it to her gym. She showed her ID and checked the schedule. There was a cardio class available, but she had a little time to kill first. After changing into her blue and white bra top and yoga pants, a nice pair of thick white socks and her cross trainers, she found a free treadmill and started it up for a light warm-up.

She realized she’d forgotten her music when a Gym Jerk who seemed to have taken the machine next to hers so he could keep staring at her ass tried to start up a conversation. Normally she could just tune that stuff out, but this guy was getting on her nerves. She decided to challenge him to a race. They zeroed out their counters, and the first one to hit five miles would win. Their machines were too far apart for him to see her readout, so she just continued at her usual pace, and lied every so often about how far she’d gone.

The big, sweaty meathead won the race of course, but he wore himself out by trying too long a sprint at the end, and he still hadn’t caught his breath when she had to leave to go get to class. She flagged down a trainer and pointed her in his direction before she went to cardio.

The instructor for the class was one she’d had before. Lyle was a little guy, probably not more than five feet tall, but he knew how to push people into giving their all. It was a good workout. She finished up with a little bit of weight training, and then hit the showers.

She put her street clothes back on and called David. “Hi, Sweetie! Have you gotten out of bed yet?”

“Yes, I did. And thanks for this morning. You can be my alarm clock any day.”

“I just wanted to let you know I won’t be home for lunch. I’m in the middle of a bunch of errands that will take me a while to get through.”

“Ok, I’ll just have to do something special for your first dinner back.”

“No, don’t!”

“Excuse me?”

“Sorry, that came out sharper than I wanted it to. Don’t make any plans for dinner. I’ll take care of it.”

“It’s our first meal together in a long time, and you’d rather have something from an impersonal restaurant than from a loving kitchen, that’s your decision. Our first big home-cooked meal will just be tomorrow, then.”

“Ok, then. I’ve got to go. Love you!”

“I love you, too.”

She closed her phone and returned it to her purse. She really hoped her plan didn’t fall apart. It all started when her mother had been giving her the third degree about David, and what she saw in him. Maritza had casually mentioned that he was an excellent cook, and her mother just lost it. A man cooking for his woman was so distasteful to her, that she spent six days training Maritza to cook a meal for her man instead.

She thought it might be kind of nice to cook something for David, for a change. The meal she’d been taught was pabellá³n criollo, Venezuela’s national dish, which involved cooking four different things at the same time, so she really hoped she wasn’t reaching too far beyond her ability.

To get authentic ingredients, she’d have to drive over to East L.A., which was always a pain. Any time she had to speak Spanish, her accent made her sound like the poor uneducated girl she used to be and not the cosmopolitan world traveler she’d become. But she put up with it since it would also be easier shopping in Spanish than trying to translate her mother’s recipe into English and then looking through the kitchen to figure out whether they already had any of the spices and things. On the bright side, there were plenty of decent places where she could grab some lunch.

It took her a few hours to get her shopping done, mainly because she wanted to find a market where she’d feel safe parking her Baby. Sure, she had an alarm and a LoJack, but she was afraid that some Mexican lowrider could take her to a chop shop and have her gutted for parts faster than it would take the cops to show up. She should have taken David’s car.

It worried her a little that being afraid of Mexicans made her some kind of racist hypocrite, but she managed to convince herself that it wasn’t all the Mexicans she was worried about. The sweet old ladies that were also out doing their shopping were decent people. It was the guys that were probably in gangs that scared her, and being afraid of criminals was reasonable. That made sense.

A little more freeway therapy and she got in a good mood again. The gas prices seemed to have gotten much worse while she was gone, or maybe it was just that the prices were so much lower in Venezuela that they seemed too high back in the US. But with David covering all the bills, she had plenty of money for gas, so she could handle the massive rates.

When she got home, she dropped her shopping bags and shooed David out of the kitchen, explaining that she’d be the one cooking dinner for them. He tried to stick around to help her out, but she said that it was important for her to do this all by herself.

She put her meat in the fridge, and then checked her mother’s recipe, adding up all the cooking times to figure out when she needed to get started. It looked like she had to kill some time first or they’d be eating way too early.

She tracked down David in his new office. It was a little smaller, but it looked pretty cool. She thanked him again for her incredible new closet, and feared that she might not be able to something as nice for him. She told him all about how her mother had insisted that she should be able to cook a meal for her man, and she went along with it. But that meant she’d have to make dinner for him at least once; otherwise she would have lied to her mother, and she just couldn’t do that.

David told her not to worry. He was certain that he’d love anything she made. And her devotion to her family made her soul seem even lovelier than he’d ever imagined. He gave her a big kiss offered again to give her a hand in the kitchen, like maybe she wouldn’t know where he kept everything. She waggled a finger at him and told him to stay away; if she couldn’t figure out where something was she’d call him, but otherwise he was to keep away.

David watched her leave the room and couldn’t stop smiling. How could you not love someone so amazing? If Claude didn’t have his mother’s ring, he’d have proposed right then and there. This was definitely the girl he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

Maritza tried to start with the easy stuff first. Because she didn’t want to have to postpone her meal a day, she hadn’t gotten the dried black beans that needed to soak overnight. She’d bought canned beans, but she wasn’t sure if the liquid they were packed in needed to be drained, or if you were supposed to cook them in it. She decided to just empty the cans into the pan; it looked kind of like it was supposed to.

She started making the rice next, but her recipe was in metric, and David’s measuring cups weren’t. The glass pitcher thing for measuring the water had both measurements, but the little scoop cups for the dry stuff didn’t. So she used the lines on the glass thing to figure out how to approximate milliliters with cups, and felt pretty smart for solving her problem.

The meat dish was the most complicated. She had to start by chopping up onions and garlic cloves. At least this part didn’t need measuring. She found a knife, but couldn’t find a cutting board to chop on. She decided to get cute and called David on her cell phone to ask where the cutting board was. It turned out that she hadn’t found it because it wasn’t made of wood; it was a big slab of plastic. But also, it turns out that it was a good thing she asked because he had four of them that were color-coded based on what you were cutting. She got out the green one for her vegetables.

When she was learning to cook this, her mother had slapped her hands with a big spoon every time she started chopping the onions and tried to wipe her eyes. But this time she wasn’t there, and Maritza learned how much worse than just crying from the fumes it got if you rubbed your eyes with onion juice on your hands. It still stung like hell after splashing some water on her face, but she summoned all the skills that let her stand in a painful pose with a big smile on her face to keep from screaming.

While the onions were cooking, she chopped tomatoes and that went perfectly. When all the vegetables and spices were mixed together and doing nicely, she found a frying pan and got it ready for the meat. She browned it evenly on both sides, and then used her mother’s technique for shredding it in the pan with a knife and a fork. David’s pan wasn’t made out of the same kind of stuff as her mother’s, and she hoped the little scratches she was making would come out in the wash.

The meat went in with the vegetables, and then she could reuse the frying pan for the plantains that were her favorite part of the meal. The variety she’d found in the Mexican market didn’t look exactly the same as the kind she’d been practicing on in Venezuela, but she didn’t think there would be that much difference. They sliced down the middle just as easily.

Once everything was cooked, she called David down for dinner. She spooned the various elements out and arranged them on a plate as she’d been taught. The rice came out a little too dry, and some was stuck to the bottom of the pot. The beans were too wet, but she could fix that by switching to a slotted serving spoon and draining off some liquid before putting them on the plate. The plantains looked fine, and when she built the little wall on the plate they held the meat in just like they were supposed to.

She’d forgotten to set the table or put out water glasses or anything, but she saw that David was taking care of that for her. She set out the two plates on the placemats, and he held her chair for her. He was sweet like that. She just hoped he liked it.

He wished her a Merry Christmas, and she explained that even though this was the Venezuelan national dish and she was making this as part of their holiday celebration, it wasn’t actually the traditional Venezuelan Christmas meal. Her mother had wanted her to learn how to cook something for every day, and besides she wasn’t sure if American grocers would have plantain leaves, the key ingredient in making hallaca. He nodded appropriately and eagerly dove into his plate.

David smiled and told her it was delicious. But she knew it wasn’t. Her mother would not have been happy with her. The rice tasted faintly like smoke. The only flavor the beans had was a strong saltiness. The plantains weren’t cooked thoroughly enough; they must have been thicker than she was used to. The meat part did come out okay, and it was supposed to be the center of the meal, but she was still very disappointed with herself.

He could tell that she was feeling down and came over to give her a warm hug, and told her that it was the best meal he’d had since his grandmother died. She tried to point out all her mistakes but he silenced her protest with kisses. He said that it might have had minor flaws, but he could taste what was most important. This meal had been prepared with love, and that was the greatest ingredient of all.

That was a cheesy line, and coming from any other guy it would have been just too cornball, but she could feel his sincerity and it just made her melt in his arms. This was the first man she’d ever wanted to try to cook for, and she was sure he’d also be the last.

He told her it was the best Christmas present she could have gotten him. She told him that this was just something her mother had wanted her to do for him; his real present should be showing up in a week, and the only hint she’d give him was that it was vanilla-flavored.

Oscar Night by Jennifer Brock Novelist/screenwriter David Fine and his girlfriend fashion model have had some of their Christmas celebration, but not all of it. In this installment, they attend a New Year's Eve party thrown by his best friend clothing designer Claude Marsh. Maritza had promised David a surprise, and we find out what it is. A character shows up that we haven't seen in a while. Way back when, David had promised to wear a gown if he was nominated for an Oscar; in this installment, the nominations are announced. And finally, the conspiracy is revealed!

Part 9
Usually, Claude’s parties were huge affairs with a hundred guests, live music, and a champagne fountain. But he did something different for this New Year’s Eve. It was a more intimate dinner party with a few friends and business associates. David found that concept much more comfortable, and he was actually looking forward to going to a party for a change.

Even though it wasn’t a big shindig, that didn’t mean they couldn’t dress up. Maritza wore an amazing black silk gown (one of Claude’s, of course) that softly draped her curves as though it were flowing liquid, all without seeming to be excessively tight or revealing.

David knew he wanted to wear something Claude had made, but he wasn’t sure. Maritza thought it should wear the red tux he wore on their first date, but he said no even when she asked him nicely. However he quickly agreed when she asked him naughtily. She made him wear a black shirt under it instead of the white, and that lent an air of gothic mystery to his look. He still thought he looked like a pimp, but a smoother one at least. Maritza had even braided his ponytail for him, so he felt it had a kind of “Kung Fu” aesthetic. The red ribbon she tied it off with detracted from that a little, but fortunately he couldn’t see it.

David didn’t like to be late, so he made sure they were on time for the party, but they still turned out to be the last guests to arrive. Claude showed them into the lounge and made introductions. David recognized a slender black girl who was chatting with Antoine as Vanessa, one of Claude’s assistants. He’d seen her a few times before when he’d met Claude for lunch.

A pudgy guy who apparently knew Maritza ran up to her and “air kissed” both cheeks. Jeffrey was a beautician who’d worked on her a few times when she’d done shows for Claude. He was there with his partner Tomas, a bronze set of muscles in a silk suit.

Kay was a strawberry blonde in her mid thirties who kept to herself mostly and quietly watched the crowd. She was an acting coach that Claude had brought in to help one of his models prepare for a show. David didn’t quite get all the details, but apparently the model was going to be wearing the centerpiece of the presentation, and Claude wanted to make sure she projected the proper emotion or something like that.

The other guests were an older couple, Ben and Evelyn. David could not figure out whether Ben had married much younger or if Evelyn was just in really good shape. Evelyn was very excited to meet David. She was a big fan of his books. In fact, when she’d learned that he was going to be there, she’d brought her hardcover copy of Sublimation in her purse, and David gladly agreed to sign it for her. He still had a hard time thinking of himself as famous, so it felt a little weird.

Maritza told her that she would be sure to love the next one, and Evelyn was extremely jealous that she’d gotten to read it before it was published. Claude snarled that he wasn’t even allowed to look at the manuscript. David got embarrassed and said that he’d wanted to impress her, and she’d shown a little interest on their first date, so for their second he’d brought her the book. Maritza pointed out that it was part of what drew her to him, that instead of flowers for her nose or chocolates for her tongue, he’d brought something to stimulate her mind. Most guys don’t even think that models have brains, but David saw her as a reader.

He was being lectured at length about proper eyebrow maintenance by Jeffrey when he was rescued by the announcement that it was time for everyone to go to the dining room. There weren’t any place cards or anything, so they were all free to choose their own neighbors at the table.

The dinner was delicious. Claude had hired an excellent caterer. They started with a fairly ordinary salad of crisp greens, but then the main entrée was a tender beef roulade in a puff pastry with a herbal mushroom filling, and it came with baby potatoes prepared in a balsamic glaze and a steamed carrot in the shape of a rose.

Maritza nudged David and said, “This is too complicated. I like your cooking better.”

Evelyn cocked her head. “You cook?”

Claude took control of the conversation and regaled them all with how impressed he’d been by David’s skill in the kitchen. David tried to shrug it off and just explain that he was raised by his grandmother and she taught him. He just thought that preparing a meal was the best way to center a home, and bring family or friends together. Kay smiled and said that it was a very sweet sentiment, and not one most men would share. The center of a man’s house was usually the living room, not the kitchen. That was probably the most she spoke all night.

After coffee and dessert, which was a miniature cheesecake layered with bitter dark chocolate, sweet caramel, and sour raspberry syrup, they gathered in the den to hear an exquisite performance from a young female violin player. David didn’t know anything about classical music, but the pieces she played were sad and beautiful. The audience convinced her to play two encores before she really had to leave.

The party had been so high-brow and low-key that they’d almost forgotten the holiday. Antoine went out on the terrace and started squinting at the horizon, and suddenly he pointed and called to everyone. If you looked in just the right spot, you could just barely see the fireworks that were going off over Marina Del Rey. That made everyone check their watches and at eleven-thirty Claude broke out the champagne and poured out a glass for each of his guests. He tuned his big-screen TV to the live countdown show, and at precisely the stroke of midnight they all shared a toast, and the couples shared kisses.

As David looked forward to a new year that would bring new possibilities and opportunities while he held the one the wanted to share it all with in his arms, it was a perfect moment. He took a moment to debate with himself about asking Claude to get Maritza’s engagement ring so he could propose to her, but he wanted a more intimate setting, and it still seemed like there were too many strangers around.

No one was too drunk to drive home, but they did wait an hour for the crazies to get off the road.

***

Maritza was fairly busy that week, with several auditions (or as they liked to call them in the modeling business “go-sees”) to be part of shows in events related to February’s Fashion Week. She ended up getting hired by Claude’s company, without pulling any strings or calling in any favors.

On Friday afternoon, she called David and told him she’d be bringing a friend home for dinner, but that neither of them was hungry for anything really heavy so he didn’t have to go through too much trouble. Fortunately, he hadn’t started the roast he’d been thinking of, and could switch to doing a soup and salad meal instead. He checked to make sure he had a good supply of vegetables, and then took some out some frozen soup stock and put it on to thaw. While in the freezer, he saw that he’d had some bread dough ready to go. His grandmother had taught him to always have the makings of a meal handy, in order to be ready for anything.

By five-thirty he had a nice chicken and vegetables soup simmering, and a colander of bowtie pasta ready to be added right before serving. A peasant loaf in the oven was making the kitchen smell like home. He’d washed the lettuce for the salad and was slicing cucumbers when the front door opened and he heard something heavy being dropped in the front hall.

Maritza walked into the kitchen. “You remember Amanda, right?” A thin girl with freckles on her nose and long red hair was with her. She wore a long-sleeved short green dress that matched her eyes, and white tights with an argyle pattern.

David thought about where he’d seen her. “You were at that apartment where I picked up Maritza in New York, right?” He reached out to shake her hand.

Amanda grabbed his hand and used it to pull him toward her. “That’s absolutely correct.” She surprised him with a kiss that was a little more than friendly and then let him go. “Ritz has some stuff to do upstairs, so is there something I can do to help you with dinner?”

There was something about her he was trying to remember. He put her to work washing tomatoes while he finished the cucumbers and worked on figuring out what was significant about her. He tried making small talk. “So, what brings you out to the left coast? Working on a fun fashion job?”

“My agent got me a commercial, and they’re shooting out here. But that’s not until Monday. I’ve got all weekend to play!”

“Did they put you up in a nice place?”

“They got me a room at the Marriott in Burbank. It’s a decent place; I’ve stayed there before. But I don’t check in until Sunday. I’m crashing here with you guys until then.” She flashed him a big grin.

“We’re not really set up for guests, but we can try to set up something. I don’t think anyone’s ever slept on our couch.”

“Don’t be silly! Ritz tells me you’ve got a nice big king-size bed. I’m sure I’ll fit in there fine.”

David instantly remembered, and nearly cut his hand as he dropped the knife. Amanda had introduced herself back in New York as someone Maritza used to date. She’d invited her ex-girlfriend to spend the weekend, sleeping in the same bed. Was she getting bored with him? Was kicking him out of his own bed her way of breaking up with him? He stepped back and had to hold his head while he took a few breaths.

Amanda didn’t know what to do. She ran to the stairway and called up, “Hey, Ritz! You’d better get down here. Something’s wrong with your man.”

Maritza dropped what she was doing and ran down to the kitchen. She recognized immediately that David was having one of his panic attacks. She guided him to a chair and held him tightly. “It’s okay, Baby. I’m here.” She stroked his hair while he shook. “What’s the matter?”

David tried to brave. He tried to man up and be strong, but his nose was running. “Are you leaving me to get back together with your ex-girlfriend?”

Amanda laughed at this and Maritza shot her a look. “No, you must have misunderstood something she said. Yes, Amanda and I have slept together before, be we were never girlfriend girlfriends. We were never in love or anything, right?”

“Nope, but you are sexy as hell and great in the sack!”

“Anyway, we were going to surprise you after dinner, but I guess I can tell you now. She’s the rest of your Christmas present from me.”

“What?”

“Every man has the fantasy about being with two women at once, and tonight we’re going to give that to you.”

“Yeah, we were working together a couple months ago, and I mentioned that I was between boyfriends and she told me all about how wonderful hers was, and that you were sexy and smooth all over, and that intrigued me, so I said why don’t we give your man a triple delight some time, and she at first didn’t want to share you, but I convinced her.”

“But, I don’t need another woman; I only need you.”

“That’s very sweet, but I know you will enjoy this. We’ll explain the rules to you after dinner. But first I need her help to finish getting ready upstairs. Will you be okay to finish getting this ready on your own?”

“Um, ok.” He nodded, waiting for his brain to catch up with all this new information.

Maritza kissed him and went out, and for good measure Amanda kissed him, too. He had absolutely no frame of reference for this. He almost missed the timer going off to tell him the bread was ready.

His head was still buzzing all through the meal. He didn’t have time to question anything when Maritza told him not to open a bottle of wine and served water glasses instead, and he did as he was told when Amanda handed her a couple of pills and she told him to take them. “The white one is to mellow you out a little. We don’t want you having a heart attack or a stroke or whatever. The blue one, well, everyone knows what the blue one is for. We want you to be able to go the distance.”

Maritza went to get ready, and Amanda helped David clear the table. When they finished, she brought him upstairs. The bedroom and master bath were lit with candles. There was a strong fragrance of vanilla in the air, and soft music was playing. Maritza was sitting on the end of the bed wearing nothing but a silk robe. Amanda went into the bath, and Maritza helped David undress and get into a matching robe of his own. She showed him how there was a heated infuser over on her makeup table sending scented oil into the room. She also pointed out that each nightstand had been cleared off and now only had two things on top: a folded towel and a tube of massage oil.

They walked over to the bathroom and Amanda was also in a robe, but she also wore a shower cap, and held one out for each of them. They helped David get his hair under the cap and then showed him the room, where big fluffy towels had been set out on the counter.

Amanda told him what was going on. “The rules are simple. Everyone is allowed to touch everyone else anywhere on or inside any part of their body, with any part of their body. Does that make sense?” He nodded. “And we start by getting completely clean, which is why we’re in here. But there’s one more thing you need to know. No talking is allowed, unless you’re in unbearable pain.”

“Okay.”

Maritza came in from the bedroom. “There’s one more thing you need to know. You only get to use your sense of touch. The windows are covered with blackout curtains, and I even covered the little blinky lights on the stereo with tape. With the candles out it’s totally dark in there. And all you can smell or taste is vanilla, and all you’ll hear is the music. You’ll never know who is doing what to who.”

She dropped her robe, got in the shower, and turned the water on. Amanda blew out the candles in the bathroom, and it became complete darkness. David soon felt his robe being untied, and hands pulled him into the shower, while other hands pushed. Someone started rubbing soap all over his body, which had more of that vanilla scent. While someone was washing his back, another bar of soap was pressed into his hand, which was guided onto a breast. He hadn’t thought Amanda’s were this big, so it must have been Maritza’s. He played around as he washed, spending an inordinate amount of time getting those nipples clean.

He moved on down, soaping up her stomach, sticking a sudsy finger in her belly button, and then moved his hands out to scrub her hips, then brought them together in the middle. When his thumbs hit a little patch of curly hair, he realized the naked woman he’d been touching wasn’t his girlfriend. He knew what he’d planned to do next when he thought it was Maritza, but now he didn’t know what to do, and froze there for a moment.

Suddenly, he was surprised as the bar of soap washing between his buttocks slipped inside him. He reflexively leaned forward, and now his hands were definitely touching something he wasn’t supposed to. He couldn’t come up with a better idea, so he washed it, paying some extra attention to her button with his thumb, and trying not to get any soap inside her.

She widened her stance a bit and he took the hint, teasing her labia with his fingers while the other hand kept the soap far away. Someone was now soaping up his erection, and a hand passed his on the haunch he was washing. He thought he might have heard kissing, and his hand was pushed aside from where it was. He was spun around and rinsed off, and he totally lost his bearings.

Someone turned off the water and opened the shower door, and he was taken by the hand and guided to a towel. It was soft and warm. He dried himself off, and then gentle fingers removed his shower cap and ran through his hair. His eyes were going crazy trying to find the smallest glint of light, but it was absolutely black. His towel was pulled from him and he was led toward the bedroom.

It was just as dark in there. He slowly walked to the bed while several hands slid over his body. He was pushed down onto the bed, and a mouth found his for a deep kiss. Then a hand turned his face and he was kissed from the other side. He felt a cool splash as someone squirted oil on his chest, but it quickly warmed up as fingers started smoothing it across his skin.

One of the hands stroking his chest found a nipple, and the mouth on his lips moved down to suckle at it. He tentatively moved his arm and gently stroked the back and shoulders of whoever was licking him. She seemed to like that; a hand found his other nipple and started playing with it.

Whoever was on his other side had his arm trapped under her body and was nibbling on his ear. He got bold and rotated his wrist around so that his fingers touched a soft thigh. She shifted position a little to give him more freedom. A hand touched his and led it up and back, where he found an eager wetness. He spent a little time exploring all the important parts, and then set his fingers to work. A moment of curiosity crossed his mind, and he wasn’t sure who he was touching but he realized that it didn’t matter.

The girl under his left moved around, and her hand brought his to a breast and held it there as she changed position. He felt himself being mounted, and before long he heard lips smacking and he realized that the two women he was inside of were kissing, and they were rocking with the same rhythm. His free hand discovered that all four breasts were within reach, and played around teasing all four nipples.

The one on his hand hit her climax first, but the one on his penis wasn’t far behind. David relaxed and had his own release. They collapsed in a pile and had a brief moment to breathe, but shortly someone was kissing him and pulling him up to a kneeling position. Then someone else was kissing him much lower, and the little blue pill was doing its job admirably.

The one on his face moved around and then his back was being oiled, and peppered with little kisses. He hands were empty, so he reached out to try to touch someone and thought he found a smooth, sexy leg but it turned out to be his own. The girl on his back moved lower and lower and soon oily fingers were between his cheeks and spiraling around to tempt, to tease and finally to slip sensually inside him.

The finger (or fingers) found the right spot and he was almost there, but then it withdrew out of him and he missed its presence. However something else replaced it — was that a tongue? Being orally serviced at both ends was just too too pleasurable, and he couldn’t help but explode.

After another quick rest, they rearranged themselves and started up again. It went on for quite some time, a jumbled mishmash of confusing body parts, all stroking, fondling, penetrating, and being penetrated by each other. Eventually they all fell asleep in an interlocking naked human pretzel.

David woke up the next day at some time that felt like morning, he went into the bathroom. It was still dark, and they’d duct taped the light switch so he couldn’t turn it on. So it wouldn’t make a mess, he sat down to relieve himself then wiped off the seat. He was still oily. He groped around on the floor for a robe and then went downstairs to start breakfast. The clock in the kitchen told him that it was actually closer to lunchtime.

He wasn’t really sure how to react to what they’d done. It had been intense, and supposedly every guy’s dream, but in the light of day he felt a little guilty about it. And he wasn’t sure how he’d ever do any baking again when the scent of vanilla would now be triggering naughty, sexy thoughts.

He busied himself putting together a refreshing brunch. He checked in on the ladies, trying to see who was who from the little bit of light coming from the hall door. He kissed a shoulder and lightly whispered that there was food in the kitchen. Someone moaned and he left to set the table.

He heard the shower running, and the ladies came down about an hour later, all cleaned and dressed and made up pretty. He was embarrassed to still be in his robe. He took the frittata out of the oven to cool and they helped themselves to coffee and fruit salad. While the girls were eating, he snuck upstairs for a quick wash and a change of clothes. It was hard to do working blind.

He wondered how they were able to look so put together getting ready in the dark, and figured it was probably something models got good at, but then Amanda complimented David on how amazing Maritza’s closet was, and he remembered that she had a light switch in there, as well as one on her makeup table.

The women were acting like it was just another day and nothing unusual had taken place, so David didn’t find any opportunity to talk about what had happened. The only real thing out of the ordinary was that Maritza did a load of laundry to wash the sticky bedding and towels. Otherwise, she and Amanda just chatted all day, catching up on mutual friends and associates.

In the evening, they brought Amanda along for their usual swim in the pool. He imagined that his neighbors would be peeking out and wondering how he got to be such a stud, with a beautiful girl on each arm.

Back at the townhouse it was a repeat of the night before, starting with a shared shower to rinse off the chlorine. David was tense and nervous, so he asked to be medicated again. The rules were back in place: pitch dark, no talking, overwhelming aura of vanilla.

He seemed to be even more uninhibited the second time, occasionally even taking the initiative and moving someone into a better position for easier accessibility by his tongue or fingers or other. And he didn’t panic when he was nearly smothered a couple of times by one of them overenthusiastically grinding herself against his face.

They slept even later on Sunday. David wasn’t the first to wake up this time, and they shoved him into the shower. Amanda barely had time for lunch before she had to go check into her hotel. She gave each of them a deep, wet kiss goodbye and promised to let them know the next time she’d be in town.

When they were finally alone, David thanked his love for the present. It was incredible, and exhausting, and he didn’t regret the experience. But it was definitely not something he wanted to do regularly. She told him that was good, because she didn’t want to become a swinger. It was just fun to mix it up once in a while with someone who was safe and clean and familiar.

***

David’s publicist Nadine called him a few times during the month of January, to answer questions she’d taken from the press about what he thought he chances were to be nominated. But other than that, he didn’t think about it much. He didn’t have a very high opinion of his art, so he naturally assumed that plenty of other screenwriters would be getting the nod, and they wouldn’t need to scrape the bottle and name him, too.

One of the press inquiries was from none other than the annoying fashion commentator Jane Waters, who wanted to remind David of his promise to wear a gown at the ceremony if he was nominated. Nadine wanted to know what kind of answer to give her. David said that he would wait until after the nominations, and then plan his outfit accordingly. He hoped that answer would be boring enough that she’d leave him alone.

She didn’t. It seemed like she was aiming for some kind of controversy that would drive ratings up for her little bits on the entertainment news hour, because she kept bringing up how David was refusing to own up to her calling him out as just another Hollywood phony with no integrity. That she was able to call someone fake without any sense of irony was amazing chutzpah, but it was annoying David to no end.

Finally he got so tired of it that he had Nadine issue a statement. He bounced a couple ideas off of Claude, and this is what they came up with: “Out of respect for the other contenders, I would have preferred not to make a comment based on the assumption that I will be nominated. But I will assure you that should I be chosen, I will live up to my word and attend the ceremony in a gown. I do not wish to disrespect the Academy or make a mockery of the proceedings; if I do have to appear in a dress, I will do my best not to look like a joke.”

That did get her to shut up about it, but it forced him to make an even stronger commitment to potentially looking like a fool on national television. Claude tried to show David some sketches for possible gown styles, but he didn’t want to have to deal with it until after the nominations came out. He’d rather not worry about something that was only a possibility.

The last week in January, the Academy held its press conference to announce the nominations. David and Maritza were glued to the television to watch. One of the supporting actresses from Condensation was nominated, which seemed to be a good sign, but none of the rest of the cast was picked for a supporting actor or lead actress or actor nomination. But then the director was named, and things were looking up.

It felt like the listing of the names for Best Original Screenplay took forever, and then at last the Best Adapted Screenplay nominees were given. Three other screenwriters were named, and the odds weren’t looking good. But then they read David’s name as the fourth of the five writers chosen. Maritza threw her arms around him and gave him a deep, wet kiss in celebration that had the suggestion of shifting into full-on foreplay, but then the phone rang with more kudos from Nadine and he stepped into the kitchen to take the call.

She congratulated him on the nomination, and pointed out that it meant the publisher would be holding his next book back even more, in the hope that they could put “From the Oscar-winning writer of Condensation” on the back. It was a mixed blessing, but she was very excited. She asked him if he needed her to look for a way to get out of the promise to wear a gown. He had nearly completely put that out of his mind, so he had to take a moment. But he told her that he’d go through with it somehow, to show that he lived up to his word.

He heard Maritza cheering in the next room, and she said that his movie had been nominated for best picture, too. So he had to hang up and make some calls of his own to congratulate the director and producers. It made him a little uncomfortable talking about how great his screenplay was; he just didn’t have the right kind of ego for Hollywood. He got his obligations out of the way and was ready to relax, but then Claude called.

He started by congratulating David, but then quickly changed the topic to talking about the gown that he’d be wearing to the ceremony. He asked if David had any ideas about the kind of style he wanted, and threw out a lot of technical fashion terms that David just didn’t understand. He needed pictures. Claude said he’d throw some things together and then come by David’s townhouse after lunch.

David started to get suspicious when Claude showed up with an easel and a portfolio full of design boards to present his “thrown together” pictures. Clearly, he’d been working on this project for some time. His first board was a collage of magazine photos of actresses in gowns that had been chosen for previous Oscars’ Best Dressed lists. David looked it over and saw a lot of beautiful women. He couldn’t say what made them better dressed than others.

He did notice a couple things all the gowns seemed to have in common. “All those long skirts spill onto the ground. How do they walk in them without tripping?”

Maritza was looking over his shoulder at the pictures. “It’s not too hard; you just need to practice. There’s a technique to it. You’re going to have to learn to walk in heels anyway, so it’s not much more difficult.”

“Heels?”

This time Claude answered. “You’ve said you didn’t want to look foolish. The only way to avoid that is to properly accessorize your gown, and that means heels.”

Maritza smiled. “Besides, they’ll make your nice smooth legs look so much sexier!” She licked her lips.

David shook his head. “This is getting more complicated that I imagined.”

Claude flipped to the next board. “I figured we’d really stick it to that cow by putting you in the same color as last year, so here are some swatches of different fabrics in that color, to show how their different textures react to the light.” David nodded, so he continued to the next board. “And here are some sketches of different gowns that I’ve thought might work on your frame, to minimize your shortcomings.”

David looked at the sketches. “It looks like you’ve drawn them being worn by a woman. How would they hang differently on me?”

“Oh no, that’s how they’d look on you. With the right foundation you can look like that — pad you out here, squeeze you in there, strap you down over there. You should be able to look passably female.”

“But why? Can’t I just look like me in a gown?”

“You said that you didn’t want to look like a joke. A man in a dress is a joke. A feminine person that wears her gown with style and grace as a vision of beauty is no joke.”

Maritza gave him a squeeze on the shoulder. “And you could look very beautiful if you tried. I can’t wait to see you in your gown. You are already so soft and feminine in many ways; he’s only suggesting that you go a little further than you already have.”

David tensed up. “It kind of feels like you two are ganging up on me.” He got an uncomfortable thought that went straight to the pit of his stomach. He looked at Maritza. “Have you been in cahoots the whole time? Have all your encouragements to change my appearance been just to fit his plans to get me to accept wearing a dress for Oscar night? You’ve got me with long hair and smooth skin, and convinced me to wear earrings and nail polish — was this all part of some scheme to make me all feminine, like when you put my in panties?” He turned to Claude. “Are you trying to make me gay or something? Did you set this up with her from the beginning?”

Maritza came around to face him. “You look so frightened. I am so sorry if I scared you. I love you, and I have never done anything that I thought would hurt you. I do not know what a cahoot is, but I have talked to him about you, and kept some things secret.” She held her arms open and he fell into her embrace, sobbing softly. “He told me he was going to take you for a full laser hair removal, when all I asked you for was a chest wax, but I thought it would make you sexier so I didn’t tell you. And I do think that it made you very hot. You know I like to be with girls sometimes, and I’m not trying to change you into a girl for me. You are already a very feminine person, so sweet and caring and nurturing inside, that makes me love you more than if you tried to pretend to be a rough, macho man. You are a man with a lot of woman in him, and I don’t want you to get rid of all the man (some day I plan on having your babies), but there are fun things about being a woman that I think you could enjoy, too. It’s an awesome feeling when you can put on that perfect dress and killer shoes and get your hair done up all fancy, with flawless makeup and all the right bits of jewelry and accessories, and you go out there and knock them dead. I would love for you to get a chance to feel like that, and your promise to wear an evening gown to the awards is the perfect opportunity.” She kissed him and wiped his tears. “But if you don’t want to, I understand. We can say you were only joking, or we could stay home that night and let someone else pick up your award for you. Because you are definitely going to win!”

Claude took advantage of her coming up for air and David’s shock about the mention of babies to get his words in edgewise. “Okay, I’ll admit it. I’ve been working on this ever since last year. But every time I broached the subject you didn’t want to talk about it, so I just stopped talking about it and went ahead and made plans without your input. And yes, those plans involved getting the cooperation of other people, but I wouldn’t call it ‘cahoots’ as much as a mini-conspiracy. Or maybe a cabal would be better. That’s it: The David Fine Oscar Gown Cabal, or DFOGC. Anyway, you know me, and when I do something I like to give it my all. I was just as insulted as you were last year, so I want to put together a design that will stun that hag speechless. Does that make sense?”

David nodded and made a grunt of agreement, while still clinging to his girlfriend. He was still in a fragile state; Claude needed to tread lightly. “If you take a beautiful masterpiece of a painting and put it in the wrong frame, it can look horrible. It’s the same thing with fashion. If I’m trying to create the perfect gown to knock Jane Waters’ socks off, I need to make sure it’s being properly displayed. And since you are the frame for this particular masterpiece, I have been nudging you in a direction that would help you become a better frame for my painting, and away from anything that would hinder that. Like when you were trying to get in shape and I didn’t agree when you wanted to lift weights; I didn’t think added muscle mass would look good in a gown. But I truly do love you as a friend and I’ve never suggested anything that I didn’t think was in your best interests. I knew your girlfriend had lesbian leanings, so they wouldn’t likely be any problem if I helped you to a more feminine look.”

“So you are trying to make me gay so you can have your way with me or something?” David blushed as he realized how ridiculous the question sounded.

Claude took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I am a homosexual man, which means I am attracted to men. You’ve seen my boyfriends. I like them big and buff and masculine. If I were interested in you, the last thing I would do would be to try to bring out your femininity. Now I’m sure you know there’s a segment of the gay community that’s into drag, but I’ve never really seen the attraction. I’ll admit I tried it briefly in my early twenties, but that’s sort of a requirement when you’re a swishy gay boy into fashion and trying to find yourself. Do you get that you can be feminine without being gay, and gay without being feminine?”

“I guess so.”

“Alright, then. So tell me how far you want to take this? Do you want Jane Waters to ask herself ‘who is that gorgeous creature coming down the red carpet?’ only to be forced to eat her own words?”

“Do you really think I could be gorgeous? I’ve seen some of those guys in dresses, and they look hideous.”

Claude reached somewhere in the back of his stack of boards, and pulled out one that was a collection of images of beautiful models. “You could probably look something like this if you worked at it.”

“No way! Those women are naturally attractive. I could not possibly compete with that.”

“Well, all these so-called women are men, or at least were once. These over here are women now, with the surgery and everything.” He pointed at a sexy Asian in a bikini. “Her wedding was a major media event in Korea. These over on this side only dress as women professionally as entertainment, but live as men offstage. This one’s married with three kids.” He pointed at a blonde in a cocktail dress.

David looked at the pictures and still couldn’t believe it. “Those are guys? Really? But I still don’t think I’d look that good.”

“If you could look that good, would you be willing to do it?”

“I guess, if I’m committed to wearing a gown to the ceremony, I’d rather look pretty that look silly.”

“Well then it’s a good thing for you I have my cabal. Whatever those initials were that I gave, I put together a group of people from a variety of disciplines. They took a couple pictures that I cahooted Ritz to sneak of you, and applied their skills to it on the computer, and came up with this.” He pulled another board out of his case that was twice as big. It had a large photo of a sexy brunette in a glamorous red dress. “What do you think?”

David thought it must have taken a lot of editing to get there. The woman in the picture seemed familiar, like she could have been a distant relative, but he didn’t think it looked like him very much. “Wow. They sure did a lot of editing to get that. I can’t imagine there’s anything left of the original if it was a picture of me.”

Maritza’s eyes were wide. “Ooh, you’ve got to let them make you look like that. You are so beautiful! Those are definitely your eyes; I’d know them anywhere. And you can tell those are your hands by the little bump on her finger that you’ve got from writing by hand. Why did I never notice your hands were so delicate? And the shoes might not be yours, but under the shiny polish those are your toes. I like the way the middle ones bend.”

“You think so? I’m just not seeing it.”

Claude was prepared for that, and pulled out a board with a smaller version of the lady in the red dress, next to a picture of David standing in the same pose in shorts, sandals and a tank top. Looking at them side by side, he could see the similarities. It’s quite possible the woman on the right was only a few slight differences apart from makeup and wardrobe.

However, some differences were more noticeable than others. “Just like a lot of those previous ‘best dressed’ actresses, the woman in this picture is showing a good amount of cleavage. Now if that’s supposed to be me, I don’t really see how.”

“We told you before that accessories were the key to any outfit? The gown designs that would have the biggest impact would be best accessorized with silicone.”

David fell back into his chair as the lights went out.

Oscar Night by Jennifer Brock Last time, novelist/screenwriter David Fine and his girlfriend model Maritza Delgado attended a New Year's Eve party thrown by his friend fashion designer Claude Marsh, and later learned that Claude had organized a "cabal" of experts to help him get David into a gown at the Oscar ceremony. (A flippant comment to a fashion reporter at the previous year's event made him promise to wear one.) Claude was in the middle of showing him design ideas and had just said that David would need to accessorize with silicone before he passed out.

Part 10
When David regained consciousness, he was lying on the floor, his head cradled in Maritza’s lap. Claude was crouching a few feet away, fanning him with one of his design boards. He looked up into the concerned face of his girlfriend. “Sorry.”

“You’re okay. You had too many panics in a row and you fainted. You don’t need to feel sorry. We still love you anyway.” She gave him a little kiss on the forehead.

Claude brought David a glass of water. “I can go now, if you want me to, and we can continue this discussion later, or even never. If my ideas are going to stress you this much, it’s not worth it. I don’t want soothing my insulted ego to cost you your health.”

“No, we don’t have to stop. Just give me a minute to catch my breath and we can get back to what we were talking about. I just don’t deal well with too many surprises in a row. I’m supposed to take my anxiety medicine when I feel panic coming on, but I don’t like the way it saps my energy. I’ve been doing okay using meditation, but I’m not good enough to prevent sudden surprises.”

Claude was very concerned, because this was the first he’d heard of it. Maritza had dealt with David’s panic attacks, and while they still scared her she knew how to handle the situation. She helped him back on his feet and into his chair, then pulled her own chair closer to his, just in case.

David thought back to what triggered his fall. “So, you were about to try to talk me into getting implants?”

Claude got his presentation back in order. “Well, implants are one option, but really I was going to address the general issue of breast enhancement.” He flipped to his board that showed photos of beautiful women he said were actually male, or had been born male. He pointed to some of them on the left side. “This one, and this one, and I think this one mostly got their breasts through hormones. You probably don’t want to do that, and there isn’t time anyway. This one, this one, and I think all of these have implants, and probably some hormones, too.

“Now these over here take their breasts off at night when they turn back into men and go home. This one’s breasts are pure padding. You can tell because she isn’t trying to show any cleavage, and the way her dress is hanging, there doesn’t seem to be any weight to them. I don’t think we want to try that option. This one isn’t showing much flesh either, but her gown is draping better. She probably uses state-of-the-art silicone prosthetics that might be glued on, or might just be stuck in her bra. We could try something like that for you, but as you noticed, the Best Dressed actresses are usually sporting dramatic necklines.

“This one’s showing just a hint of cleavage, and it looks genuine. I think she’s using lingerie technology, like an ultimate push-up bra, to squeeze her fleshy man-chest into an approximation of the top of breasts, and then using a prosthetic to fill her cups. I think we might have done you a disservice. If you hadn’t lost that weight, you’d still have a doughy little set of moobs that could probably be contorted into a decent looking décolletage. But you lost the fat and we didn’t encourage you to bulk up, so you don’t even have a set of pecs we could squash. That option probably won’t work.

“Now this one over here appears to be showing a lot of breast, but it isn’t bare skin. The top of her dress is actually sheer material and you think you’re peeking at bare flesh beneath. I think she’s wearing a bigger appliance, that’s a full bust in latex or silicone, like you’d get from a special effects makeup artist. Now the problem with something like that would be if we tried to pretend it was bare skin, it might not photograph properly.

“Actual human skin has a degree of translucency to it that the fake stuff doesn’t duplicate exactly. In movies or stage performances, or even posed portraits like this one, they have full control over the lighting and can make sure it isn’t noticeable as artificial. When you’re walking down the red carpet, there will be swarms of paparazzi pointing flashbulbs of varying wattages at you from all different angles, and it’s highly likely someone would get an unflattering shot that would show how plastic your chest looked. Photographers are always getting pictures of starlets in dresses they thought were opaque, but became completely see-through under the right flash conditions.

“So as I see it, there’s two ways we can go. The first option would be I make a gown with a full-coverage bodice, and you go with falsies in your bra. The second option would be to do something like this gown, with a gauzy top over latex cleavage. Which of these sounds like something you’d want to try?”

Maritza was confused. “I thought you said implants were an option?”

“Well, they scared him so much he hyperventilated; I figured they were off the table.” He looked at David. “Are they still on the table? Would you seriously consider surgical alteration in order to prepare for a one-night event?”

David looked up at the ceiling. “Probably not, but...”

Maritza cooed in his ear, “But you’re wondering what it would be like if you did have your own breasts? So am I. I think you’d look really sexy.” She started fondling his left nipple through his silk shirt. “Remember when I went away and made you wear my undies?”

He nodded, and made a sound that might have been trying to be a word.

“Remember the time I told you to put on the top that matched your bottoms? Did you imagine how it would have felt if you had been able to fill it out?”

He had to admit he had, so he nodded again. He still hadn’t told her about the nightgown he’d borrowed and worn on Christmas. The idea of being able to wear something like that again but fit into it properly teased the back of his brain.

She didn’t want to force him into giving the answer she wanted to hear, so she tried a different approach. “Okay, now I want you to close your eyes.” He did. “Imagine that it’s the night of the big awards show and you’re all dressed up in your pretty gown, and your hair is perfect, and your makeup is flawless, and you are a vision of beauty. You walk down the red carpet in your high heels dazzling the press with your glamour, and showing whatshername that you can look like a gorgeous woman.”

She gave him a moment to think about that image before continuing. “Now after the show is over, I take you home. We share a glass of wine and a kiss, and I love the feel of your lipstick on mine. I unzip your gown and let it fall to the floor. You’re standing there in your sexy lingerie, your legs shining in silk stockings, your favorite lacy panties holding you in tight. I unhook your bra and you watch it slide off your arms and fall to the floor.” She took another dramatic pause. “Can you see it fall?”

“Yes.” Her soothing voice was almost hypnotic. He could see that moment very clearly.

“Now, when you saw it fall, were the cups filled with padding or false breasts, or was it just a thin wisp of fabric?”

“It was just silk and lace.”

“So if I bring my arms around to the front of your body, I would find your breasts?”

It took him a while to answer, and when he did it was a whispered “yes.”

“Am I touching a piece of rubber that’s been glued to your chest, or am I touching your actual skin, your flesh, your breast?”

Still softly, but with determination he answered, “You’re touching my breasts.” Wow. Not what he would have expected.

“Open your eyes.” He blinked a couple of times and then she kissed him. “There’s your answer.”

“How did you do that?”

“It’s a visualization technique one of the older models taught me for making decisions. You imagine the decision as already made and then bring it into focus so you know what your subconscious thingy truly wants.”

“So it seems like I’m curious enough to try.” He turned to Claude. “Do you know any doctors that I could talk to about the risk involved, and how long would I have to keep them before taking them out, and things like that?”

“Actually, one of the members of my cabal is a cosmetic surgeon. We were going to have him talk to you about getting some facial work done, but he can tell you about implants, too. Want me to call him?”

“Wait a minute — what facial work?”

“It’s nothing major, just a little softening here and there. He can explain it better that I can.” He pulled out his cell and made a call. “Good morning, this is Claude Marsh. Is there any room on Dr. Coleman’s schedule for a consult this afternoon? The patient’s name would be David Fine.” He put his hand over his phone and looked over at David. “Are you doing anything at three-twenty?”

“No, we’re free. You’re coming too, right?” He looked at Maritza and she nodded.

Claude uncovered his phone. “Thanks, that would be great! You have a nice day, too.” He hung up and put it back in his pocket. “It’s all set. Don’t be too nervous. We haven’t committed to any actual procedures yet. This is just a preliminary consultation.”

David still wasn’t sure. “Is it weird for a guy to wonder what it would be like to have breasts?”

“No, it’s not weird to wonder. It is weird to go through a surgical procedure to find out, but just because something is weird doesn’t mean you shouldn’t do it.”

Maritza gave him a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder. “I think it’s an exciting idea, and if it means you’re weird, then I love weird!”

He felt better knowing that she thought it was just as intriguing an idea as he did. It would have almost been easier if she had just told him to do it instead of having to make his own decision, but at least he could rationalize it to himself that he was at least partially doing this for her.

For the rest of the afternoon, Claude showed them more specific gown designs. More correctly, he showed them to Maritza and David occasionally nodded in agreement with someone. Despite it being the business of the two people closest to him, fashion was still a world where he didn’t speak the language, and was totally lost. The other two would occasionally share a giggle about something, and it was tough trying not to imagine that they were laughing at him.

When three o’clock rolled around, Claude drove them to a fancy medical building in Beverly Hills. David wasn’t sure he could afford anyone who worked in a place that looked that expensive, and Claude told him not to worry; he’d cover the costs of whatever procedures David decided to get done; it would come out of his promotions budget, since David’s appearance at the awards would surely attract a lot of press attention, and any photos they took would be showing him in a Claude Marsh original.

The place was so upscale, there was a cute girl manning a desk in the lobby ready to answer questions, instead of just a sign listing everyone’s office number. Claude told her they were going to see Dr. Coleman up on the third floor, but thanked her for offering assistance. He must have used this doctor often, because he led them straight to the elevator.

Up on the third floor, there was another cute girl behind a desk. Claude told her they were Dr. Coleman’s three-twenty. She buzzed an intercom and talked to someone, and in a minute or so, a nurse in uniform showed up to take them to the doctor’s office.

It came as a surprise that Dr. Coleman was a familiar face. It was Ben, whom Maritza and David had met at Claude’s New Year’s party. They exchanged pleasantries, and David made sure to ask after his wife Evelyn, since she was a fan.

Rather than making him feel comfortable, having a doctor who wasn’t a complete stranger made David feel self-conscious. His first impulse was to run away, but with Claude and Maritza there he couldn’t do that. He felt a little trapped. He took a deep breath to center himself and began, “I’d like to know if I could get breast implants in time for the Academy Awards presentation.”

Dr. Ben answered, “I can answer your questions, but first I need to know that you’re not thinking of just getting your breasts done for the ceremony and then getting the implants taken out right away afterwards. It would be unethical for me to perform such a procedure. You are planning on keeping them for a considerable period of time, right?”

David could tell that he was being pushed to answer a certain way. He thought quickly and said, “Well, it was the awards that gave me the idea, but the more I thought about it, I realized that it could be good for my writing to spend some time having a feminine life, to be able to get more in touch with my female characters. Maybe I could even write a non-fiction book about my experiences; something like My Year as a Woman. If I commit to at least a year, would that keep you from crossing any ethical lines?”

“A year is reasonable. And that book sounds interesting. Reserve a first edition for Evelyn.”

“Of course, I could get them out early if there are medical complications, right?”

“Certainly. But implants are a lot safer these days than some of those horror shows from the past you may be remembering. Now, if you would please take off your top and come sit on this stool, I can see what we’ve got to work with.”

David unbuttoned his shirt and handed it to Maritza, then went to where the doctor had indicated. He gave David’s chest a good squeeze in a couple of places, and took a caliper and pinched him all around the area, and then brought out a measuring tape and measured around the top of his chest, the bottom and right at the nipple. He made a bunch of notes on his clipboard, and then posed David so he was sitting straight up with his arms at his sides and his chin up. He told him to hold still and look at a little blue light on the wall, and then a couple of different flashbulbs went off and something whirred.

David could get off the stool and go back to sit with the others and put his shirt on. Dr. Ben was behind his desk at a computer, and he swung a second screen around so they could see. It showed a photo of David from the front, and in profile. He had a little bit of definition in his chest, but not much.

The doctor said that his frame measurement was 38, and his current bra size would be 38AAA. His recent weight loss had left him with considerable elasticity in his skin, so there was room to go big. He did something on his side of the computer, and suddenly the picture of David had chubby little man-boobs. Ben said those would be a 38A; on a larger frame like his, an A was just too small.

He clicked around some more and then David’s breasts were bigger, a 38B. These actually looked female, but small. They were still kind of far apart and didn’t look like they’d make decent cleavage.

The 38C breasts looked like a good fit, with some potential cleavage. He kicked it up to a 38D and the cleavage was amazing, but they seemed a little too big. Ben tweaked it a little and they shrank, but not all the way to a C. He said this size would fit a C or a D bra, depending on the brand and style. A full-coverage bra would probably be more comfortable in a 38D, but they would be incredibly sexy in a 38C push-up.

Ideally, fresh implants shouldn’t be wearing any complicated bras for the first three months, but if they got them in as soon as possible, he could have almost a month before the big show, so he could get a reprieve for that one night.

Dr. Ben then went over the pros and cons of the different types of implants, and handed them samples they could touch to feel the difference. Claude was a little weirded out by the idea of touching a breast and passed, but Maritza even gave herself a squeeze to see which one felt the most real, and even let David try. They settled on a silicone implant, because the saline one felt too much like a water balloon. Saline was safer, but the newer silicone implants did not have the problems the older ones did. And if he was only looking at a year, it shouldn’t be enough time for anything to go wrong.

Ben then said that if David was really serious about wanting to look female, there were a few other procedures he’d recommend. He pointed out that the image on the screen didn’t really look like a woman; it looked like a man with breasts. He changed it so that it zoomed in and only showed from the shoulders up. The breasts were gone, and it was clearly David again.

He pointed out that if he showed a lot of cleavage, the eye would be drawn naturally up the throat, and there it would find a rather unfeminine Adam’s apple, and the illusion would be shattered. He recommended doing a “tracheal shave,” that would reduce the cartilage so his larynx wouldn’t stick out so much. He twiddled with his computer and David’s Adam’s apple disappeared.

He did warn David that there was a chance that if something went wrong he could lose his voice, but if done properly it wouldn’t have any impact on the pitch or tone of his vocal cords — he’d still need to train his voice if he wanted to sound like a woman. There were procedures for altering pitch, but Ben didn’t do them, or recommend them. They generally involved deliberately paralyzing part of the vocal cords.

The next masculine trait he pointed out in the picture was the squareness of David’s chin. He said there was a small procedure he could do to change the contour of the tip that would make all the difference. He made the computer give him a more pointed chin that didn’t stick out so far. Ben said the risks in this procedure were relatively minor, the same general risks that come with any surgery, and any time a general anesthesia is used.

The third change he wanted to make was on the forehead. He had David run his hand down his forehead to his eyebrows, and then do it again on Maritza. Men have a bone behind their eyebrows that push them forward. Ben wanted to reduce this bone on David. It didn’t seem to be a very dramatic change in the picture.

The final procedure he recommended was to raise the tip of his nose slightly and bring it back a bit. Nose jobs were so common in LA, he’d seem out of place without one, if he left his larger masculine nose intact. The computer changed the image’s nose, and even with all those differences, it still looked like David. If you didn’t know what changed, you’d never guess.

But then Ben zoomed the picture out so the breasts were there again, and this time the image was not a man with breasts, but a woman who needed help with her hair and makeup. He changed the screen so it showed the “breasts only” picture on the left and the “breasts and face” picture on the right, and there was clearly a difference.

They discussed the pros and cons for a little while, but in the end David turned to Ben and said, “Let’s do it. The whole thing. What do I have to do next?” It was kind of a crazy decision, but it felt like the right one. Maritza squeezed his hand.

The nurse came and took a blood sample, and then he had to fill out a form, and sign off that he was agreeing to all these operations. Ben called the hospital and found out that he could get an operating room as early as the next day. Would David need more time to think it over? He shook his head and bit the bullet.

Oscar Night by Jennifer Brock Novelist/screenwriter David Fine got himself in an awkward position where he agreed to wear a gown if he was nominated for an Oscar. The nominations came out and he's stuck. But his friend Claude Marsh the fashion designer assembled a "cabal" of experts to help make David more feminine. Last time, they met with a cosmetic surgeon who convinced David that if he really wanted to look like a woman, he'd need to make a few changes to his face. David was also interested in seeing what he'd look like with breast implants, something his girlfriend bisexual model Maritza Delgado seemed very enthusisastic about. In this installment, David experiences his nonsurgical options, and one of the cabal members has some bad news for Maritza.

Part 11
Before they drove away from the medical office, Claude pulled out his phone and made a couple calls, he was talking in code or jargon, and David didn’t quite understand what he was saying. It took David and Maritza a while to notice that Claude was driving into the city instead of taking them back home. They were engrossed in looking at the printout Dr. Ben had given David of what he’d look like after facial feminization surgery and breast implants. Granted the boobs were big and obvious, but it was the way that a few little tweaks to his face completely made him believably female that amazed David the most. He stared at the picture that showed just his head from the front and side, both before and after the procedures, while Maritza drooled over the full torso picture and covered the nipples with her thumbs to make it sexier.

They pulled up at a little industrial plaza, and Claude led them around to “Tom & Jeffy’s.” It was the beauty parlor owned by Jeffrey and Tomas, who David had met at Claude’s New Year’s party. David was starting to suspect that everyone at that party was a member of Claude’s little “Cabal.” Claude confirmed it, because there wasn’t much point in hiding.

Plus, half of them were there already. They opened the door and saw not just Jeffrey and Tomas, but also Vanessa and Kay. Claude told David that he thought that his decision to undergo surgical modification might have been a little hasty; he had a picture of what kind of woman he could look like through surgery, but hadn’t seen how convincingly female he could get without any.

If David was willing, the team that had been assembled would work their transformation magic and show him what was possible. He agreed to try; if he was planning on walking the Red Carpet in an evening gown, it wouldn’t make sense to get embarrassed to have six people see him dressed as a woman.

Fortunately, the most embarrassing part got out of the way right at the start. Claude and Maritza were told to wait in the front of the place, while Kay brought him to a back corner and had him strip naked. She explained that she was a professional “Feminine Deportment Coach.” Her job was teaching men how to be women, and Claude had hired her for the month to teach David how to walk and talk and present himself in a believably female manner, but she was there this evening because of her expertise with transvestite foundation garments.

Kay had a very commanding presence, like a wicked stepmother or a Catholic school nun, or maybe a slightly matronly army sergeant or theatrical director. At any rate, David felt that he did not want to disobey her. So when she told him to remove all his clothes, he did. She had him sit at the edge of an uncomfortable stool and he tried to cover himself, but she snapped on a pair of rubber gloves and made him spread his knees.

She sprayed his genitals with some kind of cold anaesthetic in an aerosol can, and before he had time to react, she’d shoved his testicles into his body somehow and pushed his penis back between his legs. Holding it in place with one hand, she pulled a pair of special thong panties up his legs with the other and then had him stand up while she got everything tucked away. The panty held it all in and made him as flat as a woman down there.

He felt a little less embarrassed, but still very exposed. Next, she fastened a corset around his waist. It wasn’t as long as some that he’d seen in period dramas; it came down to his hips, but only went up as far as his two lowest pairs of ribs or so. His chest was left bare. She had him turn around and lean on the stool while she tightened the laces, and at one point he had to exhale while she had her knee in his back. He got lightheaded, and she had to show him how to take shallow breaths without hyperventilating.

She pulled his gaff (what the special panty was called) down and readjusted it so it was sitting on top of the corset. She said that would make it easier in case he needed to use the bathroom, but it seemed like she pulled it up to give him a tighter penis-wedgie in the process.

She brought out a measuring tape and took his new waist, him and chest measurements, and then went into her trunk of supplies and came back with another undergarment for him to wear. It was like one of his grandmother’s panty girdles that had a high waist and snaps in the crotch and legs that went halfway down the thighs, except that this one also had foam rubber padding sewn into it to fill out male hips and buttocks to female proportions. It was very elastic and tricky to put on, especially since he couldn’t move his waist. He wasn’t sure he’d have been able to get into it if Kay hadn’t been there to help him.

She then asked him if he’d decided how big he wanted his breasts to be. He told her that the doctor had recommended somewhere between 38C and 38D. She nodded, and seemed to get a little bit of a smile, and then brought him a bra to try on. He put his arms through and she hooked it on and then adjusted the straps so that it was tight on his shoulders, and then she took it off him.

There were special pockets in the bra cups, and she brought out a pair of huge fake breasts to fill them. She handed him one to see what they were like, at it was softer and heavier than he expected. It was a teardrop-shaped blob of silicone, in a plastic sheath colored to look like a real breast. It even had a dark areola circle with a little nipple sticking out in the middle. It was really weird. She slipped the breasts into the cups and helped him back into his bra. It felt a lot heavier this time. The cups were sheer and his “breasts” were very visible inside them; if he looked down they seemed shockingly realistic.

Kay waved, and Vanessa came over and took David’s new measurements, with his larger bust and hips and smaller waist. Then she wrapped him in a pink satiny kimono-style robe, and slipped a pair of pink flip-flop sandals onto his feet. Kay then called out, “Okay, she’s ready!”

Everyone came over to see. Claude and Maritza were impressed with his new figure. She gave him a swat on his padded butt, and even squeezed his left breast form. He playfully opened his robe and flashed her. Her eyes widened and she licked her lips at the sight of his pretend boobs. She was more into the idea of turning him into a woman than he’d realized.

Jeffrey and Tomas were ready to take him for his first beauty treatment. Claude cautioned them to only do a little work on his eyebrows, because they’d be changing position if he went ahead with the surgery. Claude went to help Vanessa pick out what David would be wearing. Maritza gave Kay a hand packing up her gear, and then they went to sit in the waiting area.

Tomas told David they would be starting with his hair, first changing the color a little to give it more depth and character. They wouldn’t be radically different, just a change from walnut brown to chestnut brown, and bringing out some auburn highlights. He said it would work better with the red dress David would ultimately be wearing.

He’d never had his hair dyed before, but it didn’t feel all that different from having it shampooed, which he had done many times. It just smelled a lot worse than shampoo, and had to stay in his hair longer. He hoped the harsh chemicals wouldn’t damage his hair, because he knew how much Maritza liked to run her fingers through it. He just had to trust that Tomas was a professional who had done this hundreds of times before, and knew what he was doing.

In order to distract him from what Tomas was doing, Jeffrey took off David’s sandals and gave him a pedicure. Ironically, this was the first pedicure he got where he didn’t feel like a big sissy for enjoying getting his feet exfoliated and moisturized and his toenails cleaned and trimmed and buffed. Jeffrey went to check with Vanessa and Claude, and they came back with him to pick what color toenail polish to use. They settled on a deep burgundy that Jeffrey said would go well with his hair.

The first color was rinsed out, and then some sections were separated out for highlighting, and got a different foul chemical put on them, and were wrapped in foil. Jeffrey put David’s painted toes in these boxes with fans in them to make the polish dry faster, and then started working on his hands. First, he cleaned off David’s French manicure, and then massaged his hands with moisturizer. It was very relaxing.

After the second set of highlights got rinsed out, David’s nose was assaulted from two sides, as Tomas was putting setting lotion in his hair and Jeffrey was using liquid acrylic to extend his fingernails. By the time he had fashionable claws on both hands and his head was covered in curling rods, his nose had just completely shut off and he couldn’t smell anything.

When the acrylic had completely hardened, Jeffrey did a little filing and cleanup before painting his fingers to match his toes with two coats of color and then a shiny shiny topcoat. Meanwhile, Tomas rinsed the stuff out of his hair and conditioned it, and then put him under a big helmet-like hairdryer. So that his ears wouldn’t be filled with the sound of the dryer, they slipped a pair of earbuds in so he could listed to some funky dance music.

Finally, his hair came out of the dryer, and it seemed to have tripled in volume. Huge waves of red-brown hair cascaded across his shoulders and down his back. They said it wasn’t finished yet, but called the others over to look.

David shook out his wild mane and posed his hands as “kitty claws” to show off his new nails. Maritza said he wasn’t quite ready to take up modeling full time.

Claude complemented Jeffrey and Tomas on their color choice. He said it would work well for the project.

David asked if he could use the restroom, and Jeffrey slipped his flip-flops back on, and pointed out the door to the facility. A few moments later, David’s head peeked out and he called for help. He couldn’t get his underwear off with his new fingers. Kay grabbed a new pair of rubber gloves and her spray can, and went to give him a hand. She showed him that even though it had a snap in the crotch, he had to pull his girdle all the way down to his knees to be able to get his gaff down. She did tell him he was a “good girl” for knowing to sit, and reminded him to wipe afterwards. When he was done, she crammed his bits back in place and pulled up his girdle for him. She said that by the end of the month he’d be able to do that easily all by himself.

She pointed out that he was fluffing his hair in the mirror before leaving the restroom, just like a natural female. He wasn’t sure where that gesture had come from.

Kay brought him out to Vanessa, who said it was time for him to get dressed. First, he had to sit in a chair and roll a pair of shiny black stockings up his legs. Vanessa wanted to do it for him, but Kay stopped her, saying “She needs to learn how to do this, and there’s no better time to start.” Putting on a stocking was kind of like unrolling a giant condom, except you had to keep it tight. And his extra-long fingernails wanted to tear it, so he had to treat it as delicately as a soap bubble. He got several runs in the first one he tried, and Kay made him take it off and put it on repeatedly until he could get it right, and then he had to take it off and swap it for a fresh one, which went on without getting a single snag or ladder. Vanessa attached garters to his girdle and snapped them onto his stockings.

A pair of black pumps with two-inch heels went on his feet, and they had him try to stand. He wobbled a little, and Kay helped him with his posture and showed him the proper way a woman gets out of a chair, and had him do it again. Vanessa came over and removed his robe and had him raise his arms. She pulled a silky black slip down over his head, and adjusted the straps so his bra cups lined up with his slip cups.

His arms went up again and Vanessa gave him a dab of flowery deodorant under each arm, and he realized his nose was working again. Then she pulled a dress down over his head, had him lean forward so his hair wouldn’t be stuck inside it, and she zipped it up. The dress was a gauzy geometric print, with fluttery little sleeves along his shoulders. It had a sexy v-neck that didn’t plunge so far that you could see what wasn’t there, but came close enough to hint at imaginary cleavage. It clung tight to accentuate his narrowed waist, and then flared out at the hips into a full skirt that came to just below his knees.

He tried to strike a sexy pose, but had trouble balancing. Kay gave him a few tips on how to walk in heels. He had to imagine that he was tip-toeing on a tightrope. That kept him from falling over, but she said they still had a lot of work to do in that area. He did get back to Jeffrey and Tomas without tripping, but Kay made him sit down and get back up a few times until he got it right. A lot of behaving like a woman seemed to be concerned with managing a skirt.

Tomas covered David’s pretty new dress with a cape and ran his fingers through his new hair. He then gathered seemingly random locks of hair here and there, and started cutting. David was a little worried, and said that he wanted a long hair style when this was all over, and Tomas told him to trust him. A few more minutes of cutting later, Tomas swiveled the chair around and David got a look in the mirror. His hair was still long, but it looked sexy and feminine instead of just wild. Tomas said that for the Oscars they might give him bangs across the forehead, but for now it was parted on the side and swept at a diagonal.

Jeffrey pulled this stretchy plastic zig-zag ring over David’s head and then pulled his hair through it. Then he pushed it back off David’s forehead so that his hair was completely off his face. His pretty new style was ruined, but at least all the hair was off his face.

He started doing David’s makeup by first giving his face a good cleaning with something that felt like sandpaper, something that felt like alcohol, and then some kind of lotion. Then he took a pair of tweezers to David’s eyebrows, remembering that he wasn’t supposed to do much except for targeting stray hairs and evening them out. Then he gave him an even coat of liquid foundation dabbed on with little sponges, and then covered it with translucent powder.

He went after David’s eyes next, coming dangerously close with an eyeliner brush. He didn’t think false eyelashes were necessary, but he used three different kinds of mascara to style and bulk up and color his natural lashes. A little bit of combing and some pencil gave David’s eyebrows a more feminine shape. Jeffrey used a palette of smoky brown eye shadows with some extra glitter to highlight the edges. He used four different shades of blush to get the effect he wanted, and took extra time brushing color and then gloss onto his lips.

The headband came off and then Tomas spent a little time fiddling with David’s hairstyle before fixing it in place with a little spray. Tomas removed the cape, and Maritza gave him a dab of her perfume on each wrist and behind each ear and just a bit between his breasts. Vanessa swapped out his earrings for a pair of dangly chandeliers with burgundy crystals, and clipped a matching pendant around his neck. A few plain gold bangles went on one wrist, and he was done.

He stood up and looked in the mirror. That was definitely a woman looking back at him. She was styling and fashionable, and fairly attractive. Kay and Maritza got him into a pose and Jeffrey pulled out a camera and took a picture from a couple of different angles. He printed out a few of them on the printer in their business office.

Over a dinner of Chinese delivery where Kay kept correcting David’s manners, Claude attempted to talk David out of going through with the surgery. David had both sets of pictures on the table in front of him. After looking at the post-surgery mockup photo, the masculine traits in his face seemed much too noticeable in the picture of his current look. It was hard because the picture from the doctor looked female, but didn’t look all that attractive because she wasn’t wearing any makeup. The picture from the salon looked attractive from the makeup, but not completely female. He imagined that both with surgery and makeup, he could look female and pretty at the same time.

He was pretty sure he wanted to keep that appointment for the facial surgeries. That only left the breast question. The falsies he was wearing were made of silicone, and they were pretty heavy. He expected that implants would probably be around the same weight — did he want to be carrying that much around all the time?

He asked the assembled cabal members for opinions on implants. Vanessa said that implants would give him more flexibility in necklines. Jeffrey said that going with removable breast forms, he’d have more options, and they could always use makeup techniques to better simulate cleavage. Tomas said that if he was going to go under the knife for face stuff, he might as well get his boobs done at the same time; any LA plastic surgeon good enough to do facial work probably does dozens of boob jobs a week so the additional risk should be minimal. Kay said that if he got his breasts done, he wouldn’t be able to switch genders back and forth as easily as if he could take them off, so did he want to commit to being female 24/7? Claude agreed with her and said that that was a good point. When he’d told Dr. Ben that he wanted to write a book about being a woman for a year, was that real or just something he said to get him to approve the surgery?

Maritza had different priorities. She fondled his fake breast, and groped around for the nipple. She gave it a pinch. “When I touch this, you can’t feel it. But when I touch this,” she ran her finger across the nipple of the picture of how he’d look in implants. “You would feel it. I think these are better.”

So that was three votes in favor, one against, and two that would be for it if he was serious about going full-time. He had originally just mentioned the book idea as an excuse to get the surgery approved, but the more he thought about it, the more he liked it. He hadn’t done any serious nonfiction writing in a long time, and he’d been trained as a journalist. So because of that, and also since the only voter that really mattered said to do it, he decided that he’d definitely be going through with all the procedures he’d signed off on with Dr. Ben. He thanked everyone for their help in showing him how he’d look as a woman, and said he looked forward to continuing to work with them in the coming month.

Kay said that she wanted to get started on his lessons as soon as possible. Some of her students had needed longer to realize their womanhood than they had before the awards. She didn’t think David would need that long, since it didn’t seem like he had a macho male ego that had to be torn down first but more time is always better. Since Claude had paid her for the whole month, she’d begin his training as soon as he came home from the hospital after his surgeries.

She gave David a warning. “I promise that I never try to publicly shame or humiliate my clients, so I won’t push you for anything unless I think you’re ready for it. But along the way I may ask you to do things that you’re uncomfortable with. You get two refusals. During our entire time together, you’re allowed to only say ‘No, I will not do that’ to me twice. If you refuse to do a third task, I will remind you of this arrangement, and if you still fail to comply, our work together is finished. Do you understand?”

David could tell already that this was not going to be an easy month. He nodded, but it seemed like she was waiting for a verbal answer so he said “Yes, ma’am.”

Kay laughed. “You don’t need to call me that. I’m not some dominatrix getting off on ordering you around; I’m just your coach, here to guide down an unfamiliar path toward beauty, poise, and grace.” She turned to Maritza. “Are you prepared to make some sacrifices of your own?”

She shrugged. “Getting my man turned into a sexy little she-male isn’t really that much of a sacrifice to me.”

“That’s not what I was referring to. It will be easier for her to construct a feminine persona if she can think of herself as female all the time, day and night, 24/7.”

“Okay. So I get a fun new lesbian girlfriend to play with. Still doesn’t seem like a sacrifice.”

“Perhaps eventually when she has a concept of who she is, she’ll want to be your lesbian girlfriend, but the problem is that currently, the only context she knows you in is as your heterosexual boyfriend, a distinctly male role. In short, you’re a reminder that she has a penis. And we don’t want her thinking about that vestigial bit of flesh during her training, so I’d like you to move out of the house until the big show. I’ve discussed this with Mr. Marsh and he’s willing to put you up.”

“I don’t get to see him for a whole month? I can’t watch you turn him into a perfect lady?”

“I’m not a total monster. You can go home together tonight and enjoy one another’s company, and tomorrow you can be there in the recovery room when she comes out of surgery, but you don’t get to come home with her from the hospital. Give me your email address and I’ll copy you on the status updates I’ll be sending Mr. Marsh, but I don’t want you trying to contact her, no phone calls, no emails, nothing.”

“Why do you keep calling David ‘her’?”

“So she’ll get used to it. Besides, just look at her — do you see a male? Anyway, you’re stalling. Will you agree to stay away from her until the awards ceremony?”

Claude chimed in. “Please accept her requirements. If you don’t agree to move out, she won’t do it. I checked around and she’s the best at what she does; we need her for this. Anyway, it’s really only two more weeks than you were already going to be away for the Fashion Week job. And if it’s any consolation, I’m not allowed to contact David either. I’m sure we’ll have fun together. We can work out what you’ll be wearing to escort her to the Oscars.” He glared at Kay when he stressed the pronoun.

Maritza thought about it. She liked wearing Claude’s designs and didn’t want him to fire her, and they were going to be busy in New York anyway for Fashion Week, and the preparations before it. “Okay, I’ll move out after the hospital.”

Kay smiled. “Good. Now there’s something else I need from you. At least one of her training sessions will involve going on a date with a man, to learn how to act in one of the most common female social interactions. The date will probably be something typical like dinner and dancing or maybe a show, and could stop at that, or she may want to invite him in for a more complete experience. I’d like you to let her know now where you draw the line. I’ve had clients with wives who didn’t want them even going for a good night kiss, I’ve had some who made their dates stop at heavy petting, and I’ve had some clients who got permission to go as far as they wanted. So just make sure she knows where you’ve set the boundaries.”

David spoke up. “I don’t want to date some guy, and even if she makes me go out with one I’m sure I won’t want to invite him in. You have nothing to worry about. I would never cheat on you, and definitely not with a man.”

Maritza kissed his pretty cheek. “You’re supposed to be thinking like a woman, and at some point that might include realizing that sometimes it’s nice to touch a man. You have my permission to explore as far as you dare. The only part of your body I insist you keep away from other men is your heart. But keep all your body parts away from other women; I don’t want to share my new lesbian girlfriend. And don’t worry. I know you get a little jealous and insecure, but I’m not giving you permission to explore just so I can do the same. I’ve already done my exploring. I will not be sharing my bed while we are apart, and the only people who’ll see me naked will be in the dressing room while I’m working. I love you and only you.” She kissed his shiny red lips.

David was really confused and was worried about what to expect in the future. He was frightened to imagine what Kay’s lessons would be like, and hoped he could save one of his vetoes to get out of dating a man. But before that happened, he had some invasive surgery to be nervous about.

***

Claude drove them home, and all along the way Maritza played with David’s girlish body. She held his hand with its fashionable nails. She tickled his earlobe with her tongue and made his earring jingle like a wind chime. She ran her fingers through his pretty hair. She kissed him eagerly, invading his mouth with her tongue. Her hands pawed at his artificial curves. His body wanted to respond to her, but he was tightly trapped. He had to endure the pleasurable torture.

When they got home, David barely had time to grab the bag with his male clothes in it and wave goodbye to Claude before Maritza grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the car. She had the front door open before he finished wobbling up the front steps in his heels, and then she led him to the staircase inside, which was just as scary to climb.

Maritza wasted no time. She kicked off her shoes and shrugged off her dress and she was completely naked. This must have been a No Underwear Day. David himself was not so fortunate. He couldn’t even begin to figure out how to get out of his clothes. He managed to get his pumps off his silky stockinged feet, but then got stuck. He asked her to help him with the rest, and she got an evil grin.

She said, “I’ll help you undress, but first I want to see how good my new lesbian girlfriend is at pleasing me with her mouth. I’ll get you out as soon as you can bring me to climax. Also, your nails are too long to be a real lesbian, so your fingers are not allowed inside.”

David took the deepest breath he could and thought up a plan of action. He gathered his skirt like he was taught and sat on the other side of the bed from Maritza. He leaned back and rolled over onto his stomach, then managed to get up on all fours. It was awkward with a slip and a skirt getting in the way, but he crawled over to where she lay. He balanced on one hand and used the other to turn her face towards his, so he could give her a slow, wet kiss. His earrings jingled and his hair swung down to tickle her cheek.

He moved his free hand down to her breast and gently teased her nipple with his new talons. When it responded, he switched to brushing it with the side of his fingertip. She reached up a hand to fondle his silicone stuffing in return. She was really getting into the “lesbian” fantasy.

He held the kiss as long as he could, but then had to come up for air. The arm he was leaning on was starting to feel a little shaky, so he shifted his knees to the side and lay down onto his shoulder. He took a moment to smooth out his dress, and then moved his lips over to the unattended breast. A couple of quick licks and a puff of air woke up the nipple, and he brought his other hand up to play with it, making little circles and light pinches.

He licked his other hand to make it slipperier, and then spent some time shifting his head back and forth, taking turns giving each nipple a kiss as he stimulated them. He tossed his head and made sure to brush his chestnut locks against them. He slithered his head down and started kissing lower, spending some time suckling at her navel, getting his tongue into it completely. She squirmed in delight and played with his hair.

He had to abandon her breasts as he shifted his position, kissing down from her navel in a beeline. She was trying to make it difficult, so he had to use his hands to keep her knees separated. He gave a few zigzagging licks to her lower lips, so they wouldn’t feel left out, before seeking out the little man in the canoe.

He used a similar technique to what he did to her nipples, with a couple quick licks and a puff of air, and then while she twitched and moaned he hungrily began to work his way through the alphabet. He sang the song in his head to set an uneven pace, and right after he ran through “LMNOP” in rapid succession, she let out a loud moan and grabbed his head and held in place.

When her breathing got back to normal, she pulled his face up to hers for a kiss. She said he tasted like a good little lesbian carpet-muncher, and he had to correct her that there was no carpet down where he’d been munching.

She held up her end of the deal, and had him stand up. She unzipped his dress and let it fall to the floor, then she pulled his slip off over his head. Next she unfastened his garters and had him sit down so she could pull off his stockings. She said his toes looked prettier with their polish showing.

The next thing to come off was his padded panty girdle. It was still tight and rubbery on the inside and now it was sweaty too, which made it even tougher to get off. At last, she could untie the laces on his corset and loosen it enough so that it could be unhooked in front. It had left painful marks on his body, and when blood started flowing into them they became even more painful.

He lay on the bed and enjoyed being able to breathe again. She cuddled up to him and gave him some more kisses. He still looked a little girlish, with his man parts still tucked away in his gaff and his breast forms still filling his bra, still in full makeup and wearing all his jewelry. She told him again that she loved him and that she was excited that he was doing this, but it wasn’t too late to back out. She was afraid of hospitals and really didn’t want him to die. He promised her he wouldn’t die. He’d just have to wake up after his surgery, knowing she’d be there waiting for him.

When he seemed to have his second wind, she pulled down his thong and started massaging his bits to get the blood flowing again. It wasn’t long before a lot of blood was flowing and things were looking up. She mounted, and they very quickly found their rhythm. His energy was still fairly low, but she didn’t mind doing most of the work. She even offered to let him go first, but he held back until she was ready and they were near enough to simultaneous.

They snuggled for a few minutes, and then she finally let him take his bra off. She brought him over to her makeup table, and she cleaned his face with cold cream, and then took him into the bathroom to wash again with soap and water, and then an exfoliator, and then he had to moisturize. He took off his jewelry and changed to his regular earrings for sleeping.

The two lovers entwined their naked, exhausted bodies, and went to sleep, sharing nervous dreams of lesbian romance and scary unknown lessons. They awakened the next morning to a ringing phone. Claude wanted them to let him know when it would be okay for him to bring the crew over. Maritza told him they needed another couple hours and then proceeded to ravish her beautiful boyfriend once more.

Afterward, collapsed in his arms she confessed, “I am going to miss you. Just remember that no matter what that woman makes you do, or what you might learn about yourself, you belong to me.”

He smiled and kissed her. “Yes, I do. Always.”

She kissed him back. “And I am also yours, forever and always. I love you.”

Oscar Night by Jennifer Brock After agreeing to wear a gown to the Academy Awards ceremony due to an offhand comment to a fashion reporter, our hero, novelist/screenwriter David Fine decided to go all-out and agreed to have his face surgically feminized and his breasts enhanced with implants. He thinks he might be able to get a book out of it. This is the last bit of romance for a while, as David and his beloved, fashion model Maritza Delgado, are separated following his surgery, under order from his new Feminine Deportment Coach, Kay Thomas, a member of the "cabal" put together by his best friend fashion designer Claude Marsh to assist in David's transformation. In this installment, David gains a new name, and begins her training with Kay, and a horrible mistake is made. We begin right where we left off, as Maritza and David were enjoying the morning after their last night together for a month.

Part 12
David’s phone rang immediately after the two hours Maritza had asked Claude to wait had passed. She had shown him how to wash and condition his hair, and he was just getting out of the shower. Claude told him not to get dressed; they had something for him to wear. He was just to put on the robe they’d given him the day before.

Maritza threw on a top and a pair of jeans and went down to make sure the coffee maker had started itself, and she ran into Claude and his crew. He’d let himself in with his key. Vanessa asked where David was, and Maritza pointed up the stairs. She disappeared, carrying a garment bag.

Maritza tried to figure out who all was in her house, and she needed her coffee first, and there were boxes and suitcases and things being hauled upstairs. It was just too hectic. She filled her cup and sat in a corner with the least traffic to sip and try to process. At one point Antoine and Tomas were lugging some complicated metal thing that almost looked like a piece of furniture from a dungeon.

After a bit, David came down into the kitchen to join her. He was dressed in a pretty blue silky wrap dress with three-quarter sleeves and a nicely flared skirt. He had a pair of low wedge espadrilles in the same shade of blue on his feet. His hair was done up in a neat bun, but he had no makeup or jewelry, not even his usual little hoop earrings. Even with falsies in his bra, he seemed to be somewhere between a masculine woman and a feminine man. She couldn’t understand why he didn’t go all one way or the other.

He gave her a quick kiss and then poured himself a glass of water from the fridge. “How do I look? They convinced me that since I’ll be leaving the hospital with boobs, I should dress like they belong there. But the pre-surgery instructions from the doctor say not to wear any jewelry or makeup or perfume, so I don’t have a false mask of womanhood to hide behind. I feel sort of freakish, but I suppose I’ll be feeling like that for a while.” He held up a piece of paper. “I’m not allowed to eat anything, so stop me if I forget. There are a whole lot of rules about what I can do before and after my surgery.”

He showed the surgery rules to Maritza. “Vanessa even pointed out something I hadn’t noticed; I’m not supposed to raise my arms over my head for a week after the surgery, so she had to make sure all my clothes for the first week close in the front. And I can’t wear any full slips or camisoles, so she couldn’t use any sheer fabrics. She’s got me in a half-slip now that I had to pull up to my waist. I’m just glad they didn’t make me wear that waist cincher or butt pad today. It’s funny; for the first time since you overhauled my wardrobe I’m in cotton underpants again, but they’re even more feminine than my silk boxers.”

“Vanessa gave you a week’s worth of clothes?”

“More than that. Since Claude is being exiled from me with you, he’s put Vanessa in charge of making sure all my clothes fit. They’re up there now, packing up all my regular clothes and filling my closet with women’s wear. Kay said that she wants me living full time as a woman, so they’re taking away my ability to try to be male. And I can’t cheat because she’ll be watching me around the clock. They set up a cot for her in my office. She’ll be staying here with me for the next month.”

“Should I get worried about some woman that kicks me out of my home and moves in with my man?”

“You have no reason to get jealous. If you want to worry about something, they’re loading your things into suitcases up there. You might want to go keep an eye on them. I’m not sure if they’re planning on packing everything or just a month’s worth for you.” Maritza went up to make sure her favorite things were being treated properly.

David wanted to keep busy so he wouldn’t have time to worry about his surgeries. Since his house was full of people hard at work on a project all about him, he decided to do something nice to thank them. Just because he wasn’t allowed to eat didn’t mean everyone else had to go hungry. He rummaged through his grandmother’s recipe book and found what he wanted. He tied on an apron and set to work baking up some delicious oatmeal raisin muffins.

Tomas caught the aroma and came to see what was cooking. He laughed at the sight of David looking so completely contented and so much like a perfect housewife, standing there in an apron and oven mitts. The heat from cooking had reddened his cheeks and a few sassy tendrils had broken free from the bun in his hair. David sent Tomas off with a new cup of coffee and a freshly buttered hot muffin. He went to tell everyone else about the treat the nice lady in the kitchen had prepared, and one by one they each came to have a muffin.

It was getting closer and closer to the time to take him to the hospital. David was really nervous. Maritza sat with him. He wasn’t allowed to take any sedatives or tranquilizers to soothe his nerves, but there was nothing in his instructions prohibiting backrubs. There was a lot of tension in his shoulders. She used the heels of her hands and the sides of her thumbs to knead away his troubles. She told him that if he was going to be keeping long nails, he’d have to learn massage techniques that don’t use fingertips.

When she felt a bra strap, it gave her a little thrill and she had to bite her lip. It was going to be so fun when she had a pretty boyfriend with girlish breasts to play with, but still keeping the important boy parts. It sucked that she had to wait a month, but it would be worth it when she got to see him in his sexy dress! She made a mental note to buy batteries on the way from the hospital to her temporary home.

It became time to go. Tomas and Jeffrey had David’s male wardrobe boxed up in their van. They’d be storing it for him at their place. Antoine had Maritza’s luggage in his truck, and he’d be taking it home to their guest room. David wasn’t sure when Antoine had moved in with Claude, but they were good together. Maritza drove David to the hospital in her car, and she’d be taking Claude home afterwards. She wasn’t going to leave her other baby alone for a month. Vanessa brought Kay and Claude in her car to the hospital to wait; she’d be taking Kay and David home after the surgery.

It was a surprise when they were met at the hospital by Evelyn. She was wearing blue scrubs and carrying a clipboard. It turns out she used to be Ben’s nurse, and still helped him out with the Very Important Patients, and she insisted that David qualified as one of those. She led David through the admissions process, and then took the whole gang up in an elevator. There was a special room where family of surgical patients could wait so they didn’t have to mingle with the riffraff in the main hospital lobby. David gave Maritza a big hug and a kiss, and hugs to everyone else, and then Evelyn took him to go get prepared for surgery.

She stayed with him the whole time. First, she took him to the room where he’d be recovering after the procedure and had him change into a hospital gown. When he took his silicone-laden bra off, she said she’d make sure that didn’t get left behind when he got dressed again, since he’d be leaving with a new bra and something (some things, actually) to fill it and wouldn’t need the old one anymore. She put a thing on his head to keep his hair out of the way, and he had to wear special stockings on his legs.

She put him on a gurney and wheeled him to another room, where Dr. Ben came by to make sure he still wanted everything done, and he walked him through all the procedures. Then he got to meet the anesthesiologist, a kindly-looking Indian woman who explained some things to him, and then a thing was stuck in his arm and he waited a while listening to Evelyn talking to him until he got not quite sleepy but groggy and hazy.

He came back around in a different room. He still felt groggy, and a little numb all over his face like he’d been to a dentist with bad aim. He tried to sit up, but found out he was strapped down. There was still a thing in his arm. Evelyn was there, and told him the surgeries had all gone exceptionally well. She told him not to try to talk yet, and gave him a little piece of ice to suck on. He needed to work the anesthesia out of his system.

She did elevate his head a little, and told him to look down. At first he was distracted by the huge bandage on his nose, but slowly his brain started remembering why he was there. He blinked and refocused and could make out the unmistakable pair of breasts pushing out the top of his gown — they were gigantic!

Evelyn saw where he was looking and smiled. She told him they looked fantastic, and they were a little bigger than their final size due to a little swelling and a gauze dressing they were packed with. She also reassured him that they were currently riding a little higher than their ultimate position on his chest, and that was normal.

Evelyn loosened his restraints and took his pulse and blood pressure. A few minutes later she let him try and sit up, and he handled it but still felt a little mushy. She asked if he was in any pain, and he said no. His voice sounded a little hoarse. There had been tubes down his throat, so that was normal.

He had to stay there a little longer, but then she wheeled him to the recovery room. She got him a drink of water and a blanket, and then went to tell his people he was out. She came back with Maritza, who had a brief look of shock on her face when she saw him. She wanted to give him a hug, but Evelyn cautioned her to be gentle so she looked around for some part of him that hadn’t been operated upon. She took his hand and squeezed it, and said she was glad he made it through everything okay.

He asked her if he looked that horrible, and she said just a little like he’d been in a fight, plus he had boobies. He asked if he could see a mirror, and Evelyn brought one over so he could see himself. There was a row of tape strips across his forehead at the hairline, he seemed to be getting two black eyes, his nose was all trussed up in tape, there were bruises on each side of his jaw and some kind of dressing taped to his throat. Plus he had boobies.

Claude came in and thanked him for going the extra mile to making the greatest publicity stunt ever for one of his fashions, and they shared a laugh. David could see the concern in his friend’s face, and knew that he wasn’t just a pawn to him. Vanessa and Kay came in to sit and wait with him, too.

Doctor Ben came around to check on him, and said that everything went well. There hadn’t been any surprises in surgery, so he wasn’t expecting any unusual side effects. He hadn’t noticed any nerve damage, so all the areas where the procedures were done should have full sensation and he didn’t see any signs of partial paralysis in any of the facial areas. Evelyn would be following up with daily house calls for the next couple weeks, and Ben himself would see David in six days for a routine check-up to remove a few stitches.

After an hour, he was fully awake but still kind of strung out on pain pills. Evelyn shooed everyone out of the room so she could get him dressed. Under the hospital gown he saw that he was wearing a big white bra over his new breasts. She said that even though he was probably curious about them, he shouldn’t peek. The bra was a special post-surgery garment and needed to stay on all the time. He was tempted to try to touch his boobs, but controlled himself. Evelyn retrieved his clothes and dressed him. He was impressed when she pushed his genitals back under the crotch of his panties, and she winked and said he wasn’t her first tranny. He stepped into his half slip and then she got his arms into the sleeves of his dress, wrapped it around and tied it. She reminded him not to raise his arms above his shoulders for the first week. He had to sit in a wheelchair, and she slipped his shoes onto his feet.

She wheeled him out and the gang was all there. Vanessa was glad the dress fit his new bust. Kay told him to keep his knees together. Maritza squeezed his shoulder. Claude offered to push the wheelchair, but Evelyn wouldn’t let him. They stopped at a desk where David had to sign some release forms and Claude had to sign some money forms. Evelyn asked who would be taking care of David when he got home, and Kay raised her hand. She handed her a prescription bottle and some instructions for his pain medicine.

Before long it was time to go their separate ways. Claude gave him an extra-manly handshake all the way to the elbow and said that he’d be staying away as ordered, but he could always be reached in an emergency, and Vanessa had an expense account and was under orders to get him anything he needed to assist in his femininity.

Maritza very carefully and gently kissed him, and told him she loved him and they’d both be so busy it wouldn’t seem that long until she saw him again. He said he loved her and he would probably miss her anyway. It was a tough goodbye.

***

Kay helped David into the back seat of Vanessa’s car, and she drove them back to his townhouse. In the car, Kay gave a speech, “Okay, from this point on you are no longer to think of yourself as male. You are female, with maybe a few extra parts that sometimes get in the way. David is gone. The first step you’re going to do when you get home is call your credit card company and have them issue you a new card with just your initial instead of your whole name. When you’re healed, we’ll be going out in public and we don’t want to have to explain to a waiter or cashier why your card says “David.” Until you tell me a female name you’d rather be called, I’ll simply refer to you by just your initial. Do you understand, D.?”

David nodded and said, “I think I understand. I’m not a man named David anymore; I’m now a woman named Dee. I guess my goal this next month is to define who Dee Fine is.”

“Cute.”

“Thanks, but I should be even cuter when the bandages come off.”

“Anyway, it seems like you get it. You’re a girl now. Welcome to the wonderful world of womanhood.” She turned to Vanessa. “That goes for everyone she’ll be dealing with, too. Don’t let me catch you referring to D. as anything but female.”

“Okay. I’ll pass the word. Do I have to change my name to Vee, or are you two the only ones who get to be letters?”

“You can if you want to, but it isn’t necessary.”

When they arrived, Vanessa and Kay supported David on each side and helped him up the front steps. Unlike the old days when surgical patients got bed rest for a couple days after being cut open, modern doctors want you up and moving around as soon as possible to avoid blood clots.

Kay explained that she had to shake up her usual lesson plan. There were a bunch of lessons that were unnecessary, like teaching D. about hair removal, makeup techniques for minimizing masculine traits, or how to properly care for breast forms. She also could skip the training sessions that were supposed to replace male attitudes toward cooking and housekeeping. She usually started with voice training, but because D. had had surgery on both her nose and throat, that wasn’t a good idea. Those lessons were still needed, but had to wait. She decided that the next day D. would start learning how to walk, but before then she’d get to take it easy with a lesson called “Establishing a Feminine Cultural Frame of Reference.”

The lesson started with a screening of Titanic followed by a bowl of double chocolate Há¤agen-Dazs. When she found out what the lesson was, Vanessa decided to stick around and assist with the female bonding. D. then had her choice of reading either a Cosmo or a Harlequin. She picked the magazine, since she wasn’t supposed to be thinking like a novelist, but it took much longer to read than she expected. Kay kept asking her questions, in order to get her to empathize with the women in the articles or even the pictures in the ads.

At the end of the day, Vanessa gave D. a hand climbing the stairs up to her bedroom. She had her choice of sleeping in two-piece pajamas or a nightgown. Kay made the decision and said to go with the nightgown. It was white cotton with buttons all down the front, and was trimmed in eyelet lace. She kept her bra and panties on underneath it.

When she was in a comfortable position in bed lying on her back, Vanessa wished her a good night and told her to call if she needed anything, and then she went home. Kay bid her a good night as well and retreated to they bed they’d brought in for her in the room next door.

***

David woke up feeling like a trainwreck. There were sharp pains in his face all over, and there was a tightness in his chest. He reached over to Maritza’s side of the bed, and she wasn’t there! He turned to look at the clock and it was three in the morning. His arm brushed his breast, and he started remembering. He’d brought this all upon himself.

He vaguely remembered they’d given him a bottle of pills at the hospital. Where was it? He got out of bed, which took a while as his legs got tangled up in his pretty nightgown, and looked around the bedroom. He didn’t see a pill bottle. It wasn’t in his bathroom either.

He went into the hall and the door to his office was open. He heard Kay breathing inside. Maybe she knew where his medication was. He really didn’t want to, but he felt he had no choice. He crept in and gently shook her awake. Luckily she wasn’t a very deep sleeper.

Kay rubbed her eyes and looked up. After giving a slight shriek at the strange creature in her room she figured out what was happening. “D.? What is it?” Panic was shocking her awake. “Is something wrong? Did you pull out a stitch or something?”

David had to remember that Kay referred to him as a woman named Dee. “I’m sorry to wake you up, but do you know where we put the drugs they gave me for the pain?”

Kay thought for a moment. “I think we left them in the kitchen.” She got out of bed, and
Dee saw that her choice in sleepwear was a long t-shirt. They went downstairs to the kitchen, and sure enough, there was a pill bottle and a sheet of paper sitting on the counter.

Kay picked up the paper to read the dosage information. “Oh no! We were supposed to give you two pills before you went to bed, and we didn’t. I should have checked this before. I’m so sorry! They put me in charge of your medication, and I messed up. I guess you should take two now, and if you want to sleep late tomorrow I won’t make you get out of bed. I hope this doesn’t make you lose confidence in me. I really am good at teaching; I guess I’m just a lousy nurse. I’ve never been in this kind of situation before, and apparently I wasn’t thinking about what it meant to watch over a surgery patient.” She opened the childproof cap and handed Dee two little white pills, and then rummaged through the kitchen to get her a glass of water. “Can you forgive my stupidity?”

Dee took the pills and downed the glass of water. Her throat was a little sore, so swallowing brought more pain, but she got them down. “Ok, but just remember this if I mess up during my woman lessons. We’re all human.”

Kay gave her a half a hug so as not to crush her breasts. “Thank you.” She walked Dee back upstairs and put her to bed, taking the time to show her how to keep her nightgown from riding up.

The pills did their job, and the pain faded to numbness, and David was able to get back to sleep. He had some bizarre dreams, but awoke refreshed and well-rested at the crack of noon the next day.

In an odd way, the screw-up with the medicine had help break the ice and Kay seemed more like a person than a rigid drill instructor. After a light omelet brunch, she sat Dee down to talk about what kind of person she was. Kay explained that there were different kinds of men who want to look like women. Some were drag queens, gay men who adopted over-the-top looks in mockery of women, for entertainment. She thought it was a way for naturally effeminate men to turn a liability into an asset. There was a whole subculture around the gay drag scene, with complicated social structures and competitions for status.

There were other gay men who tried for a more realistic feminine appearance, as a way to date closeted men who were still hung up on trying to pass as straight. Similar to this but not quite the same were sex workers who tried to look as close to female prostitutes as possible, in order to target the type of john who wanted to have sex with a woman with a penis. Now some of those prostitutes actually fall into the next category, transsexuals, men who feel that they should have born women.

Through hormones and surgeries (some not unlike the ones Dee had) they remold their male bodies into female ones that match their female brains. A lot of them get drawn into the sex industry because those medical procedures are expensive, and some men who want a sex partner with breasts and a penis are willing to pay a lot.

Now because of that, there are some, probably gays from one of the first two categories, who don’t really want to be women but appreciate looking feminine, who go the medical route but keep their male genitals just to get some of that “she-male” sex worker money. These are often more popular with their clients than the true transsexuals, who are usually impotent from hormones and are typically even chemically or physically castrated. The “straight” guy looking to have sex with a woman with a penis generally wants that penis to be capable of erection and ejaculation.

Transsexuals who come from more affluent backgrounds and don’t have to lower themselves to doing sex work have varying success in society. Kay explained that if they start out as large, masculine men, the best they can hope for is to become large, masculine women, even with the best doctors. They’ll always stand out as different and never quite get completely accepted as women. A side effect of the media coverage transsexuals receive is that even large, masculine genetic females are regarded suspiciously.

The lucky ones, transsexuals who start out as small, fine-boned men, can usually pass as women without anyone ever realizing. Kay said that Dee fell closer to that end of the spectrum. She wasn’t perfectly slim, but she wasn’t tall or massive, and her features weren’t even that heavy before the surgery to reduce them.

Now there were some men who thought they were transsexual, but weren’t really. Their minds were still male, but they were attracted to the idea of becoming women. Autogynephilia was a kind of sexual fetish, and the more female these guys became the more they got off on it. Unfortunately, it’s hard to know they’re not real transsexuals until hormones or castration stop the testosterone that’s driving the libido, and suddenly being a woman isn’t sexy anymore, but it’s too late to go back.

There were other straight men that got a sexual thrill from dressing up in women’s clothing but knew they didn’t want to become women. These men would usually only dress in the privacy of their own home, and frequently would just wear lingerie with nothing over it and change back as soon as they had an orgasm. Now those guys would sometimes keep taking it to higher levels in order to get a bigger thrill, occasionally even seeking sex with men as a means to feel more feminine, but they usually don’t go as far as getting any surgery.

Now a similar group is men who identify as straight men, and don’t see themselves as women trapped in the wrong bodies, but that do have a strong sense of a feminine self. They may have started dressing as women for a sexual thrill, but graduated to enjoying being female in completely nonsexual contexts as well. Quite often they lead double lives, spending the days working as men, then expressing themselves as women on nights or weekends. Sometimes they keep their dressing a secret from wives and families and friends, sometimes the wives actually enjoy having a new girlfriend or sister.

Kay said that she’d had students from all of those categories, and could adjust her lesson plan accordingly. Actually, her clients fell into twice as many categories, as she made most of her money training actors who were playing a role of someone in one of the real categories. That was how she got started in the business; a boyfriend of hers was once up for a role as a transsexual prostitute and she helped him prepare. Then he had a friend land a similar gig and the boyfriend convinced him to pay her, and the rest as they say was history.

There was one time where her student wasn’t giving the director what he wanted so she got called onto the set to coach him, but the director ended up liking what she was doing better than the actor, so he gave her the part instead. So now and forever there’s a listing on the Internet Movie Database that shows Kay Thomas one acting role as “Tranny Hooker #3” in an episode of Homicide.

A year or so later she had a client who was not only an actor but also a real transsexual, and she recommended Kay to some friends of hers, and that got her started in the non-theatrical side of things. She made a fair amount of money teaching other men to be women.

Anyway, the purpose of the whole lecture was to see which category Dee felt she belonged in. David still thought of himself as straight, so that eliminated the gay ones. He had gotten a bit of a thrill when Maritza made him wear her panties, but he didn’t want to admit that. He told Kay that he was kind of like the straight guy who dresses up and becomes his wife’s girlfriend some of the time, but since his book concept was to spend a year living as a woman, he was more like an actor playing a transsexual. He asked if a transsexual could be a lesbian, and Kay tried not to laugh when she said that Dee could definitely be a transsexual lesbian; sexuality and gender identity come from different parts of the brain.

Since Dee wasn’t dressing for a sexual thrill, Kay had brought a special tea with her that she wanted her to drink every day. It was made from a mixture of organic herbs, all of which had an anaphrodisiac effect; they decreased the sex drive. She said that it would help Dee in thinking like a woman if a little reminder that she was a man didn’t keep popping up. She said that it wouldn’t do any permanent damage, and she’d have her stop taking it well before the awards show, so David wouldn’t need to worry about failing to perform when he was alone with his girlfriend again.

David thought that it would make it easier to live without Maritza for a month if he didn’t have to think sexy thoughts, but wasn’t real sure Kay knew what she was doing, since she’d already made one mistake with administering drugs. Dee said she wanted to call a pharmacist and see if there would be any dangerous interaction with her medication, and if the pharmacist said it was okay she’d do it. But if the pharmacist said no, then she wouldn’t drink the tea, and it wouldn’t have to count toward the two refusals she was allowed, since Kay had said at the beginning that she wouldn’t cause any physical harm.

Kay agreed to her terms, but it was easy enough for her to find someone in the phone book who was licensed pharmacist, certified by the State of California, who took a positive approach toward alternative medicines. He knew his herbs and when she listed her ingredients he called it “impotence tea” and said he was familiar with it. She ran down the list of the drugs David had been given at the hospital and the pain meds he was still taking, and asked if there were any incompatibilities. The pharmacist said they were fine together, and the tea might even help mellow his mood so whatever he was taking the other stuff for wouldn’t feel so bad. They thanked him, and Dee drank the tea. It was vaguely minty but not too strong.

They went upstairs and Kay helped Dee get dressed. She put on rubber gloves and showed her the technique for tucking her testicles up into the space from where they’d originally descended. She said that there were four ways to keep everything in place. She could just keep her thighs squeezed together and nothing would have a chance to fall out, but Kay didn’t recommend that. She could just wear a tight pair of panties or a crotch-smoothing gaff to keep her bits in place, but then she’d have to re-tuck every time she went to the bathroom. Kay suggested the technique that would work the best for her would be to apply a couple strips of surgical adhesive tape after tucking, and that way she could drop her panties if needed and not lose her feminine mound. It would also reinforce her femaleness by forcing her to sit to pee. Kay said that some transsexuals take it a step even further and apply superglue to their genitals to not only keep things tucked up but also to form their scrotal skin into the appearance of labia. Dee agreed with her that they didn’t need to go that extreme.

So after a tuck and tape, she slid on a clean pair of panties. They were still cotton like the ones from the day before, but they had a little more lace. Kay helped her into a pretty pink blouse, but made her do the buttons herself. It was tricky with long nails, but she got it. It felt weird touching her boobs as she was buttoning, and she couldn’t decide whether it was stranger to feel a breast under her hand or to feel a hand touching her breast.

She pulled on a longer half slip than the previous day’s, and then stepped into a long full skirt that billowed out and came all the way to her ankles even though it was pulled up high to where a woman’s waist would be. Kay helped her button and zip it up in back.
She said that Dee could skip hosiery again, but strapped a pair of sandals with three-inch spike heels onto her feet.

Kay had been busy while Dee slept. She’d run a stripe of gaffer tape down the middle of the hallway, and into every room. Dee asked if this was like one of those sitcoms where roommates have a fight and divide their space in half. Kay laughed and told her that it was for her walking lessons. The tape was there to ensure that Dee walked by placing her feet in a straight line.

It was a very strange feeling, teetering on wobbly little points. Kay showed her how to adjust her stance to accommodate her new center of gravity, and then led her through a few cautious steps. Gradually she gained confidence and could walk without looking down. Kay must have selected that skirt intentionally so that Dee couldn’t watch her feet. The full skirt gave the weird sensation of her legs being naked yet completely covered at the same time.

At three o’ clock in the afternoon, Evelyn came by to check on the patient’s progress.
She took Dee upstairs and gave her a sponge bath. She didn’t say anything when she took off her panties and found her all tucked and taped. She changed the dressings on her chin and throat and put fresh tape strips on her forehead. She left all the packing in her nose in place.

The bizarre part was when Evelyn copped a feel. She gave each of Dee’s breasts a good squeeze and massaged them around in a little circle. She left her bra on the whole time, but slipped her cleansing wipes under the edges. Then she slipped her whole hand into the bra cups and worked some kind of lotion into her skin. She even used her fingers to play with Dee’s nipples, asking if she could feel it. She could, and Evelyn said that was a good thing. Some women end up with beautiful breasts but insensate nipples, which almost defeats the point.

After being cleaned and groped, Dee got dressed again, needing only a little help this time. She did need more practice before she’d be able to buckle her shoes with long nails, though. She thanked Evelyn and walked her to the door, only stumbling a couple of times on the stairs. Her heels made the stairs seem steeper, which took a lot of getting used to.

By the end of the evening she could walk in a straight line, with her head held upright and her breasts thrust out proudly, and even had a hint of a wiggle in her hips. When she got worried about overexerting the recovering surgical patient, Kay switched and threw in a few lessons in getting in and out of chairs. She made sure Dee untucked herself before going to bed. If she hadn’t been on pain medicine, her genitals probably would have been complaining, as would her feet from all the walking in heels. It had been a long day, so she went to bed early and read a little of the romance novel after taking her pills.

Oscar Night by Jennifer Brock What started out with a flippant comment to an obnoxious fashion reporter has snowballed into an exploration of gender identity. Novelist/Screenwriter David Fine made a deal to wear a gown to the Academy Awards presentation, and took it much further by getting his face surgically feminized and his breasts enhanced. His best friend fashion designer Claude Marsh hired "Feminine Deportment Coach" Kay Thomas to train him how to act. Among her draconian rules were that his girlfriend Venezuelan model Maritza Delgado should stay out of contact for a month as he works to develop a new female identity, which she addresses by her initial D., or "Dee." So far, Dee has had a lesson in how to walk in heels, and had a house call from her nurse. In this installment, she gets a few more lessons and begins to worry about who she or he truly is.

Part 13
Dee’s outfit for her second day of walking lessons was almost the exact opposite as the previous one. Her top had long flowing sleeves, but her skirt was short and tight and almost made her look like a cheap whore (and judging by the bandages on her face, a whore who had disobeyed her pimp). Her shoes were at least an inch taller than the day before, and Kay made her wear pantyhose, which required learning how to put them on without stretching them unevenly or putting a nail through them. She ruined three pairs of hose before getting it right.

Sitting in a chair in a miniskirt also introduced a whole lot of new rules, all about being aware of the line-of-sight to your panties. Dee also had to act as though people would be noticing her legs, especially male people, and display them appropriately. Kay taught her three different ways to cross her legs, depending on how sexy she was trying to be.

Kay showed her a video of some fashion show footage, to watch how the models walked. She then took her camera sand recorded Dee walking down the hallway, both toward and away from the camera. She then played both videos for her, and pointed out what the models were doing that Dee wasn’t, and vice versa. The short skirt made sense in that she could see exactly what her legs were doing.

They worked all day on walking, taking breaks only for meals and when Evelyn came by. She raised an eyebrow at Dee’s micro-mini, so she explained about needing to see her legs for walking practice. Her checkup was pretty much a repeat of the first one: cleansing, changing bandages, and massaging and treating her breasts with lotion. It was almost a sensual experience, which made Dee grateful that Kay’s special tea was keeping her from having an embarrassing reaction.

There was more walking and standing and sitting in the evening, until Dee was too tired to do more. She took her drugs and went to bed, and this time was able to get into her nightgown unassisted.

The next day, Kay made her wear a padded panty girdle again, like she had on that first day before her surgeries. She got to wear stockings instead of pantyhose, but she had to roll them up her legs and attach the garters herself, which was tricky with her long nails. She thought she did okay until Kay showed her the runs she’d caused and made her take them off and try again. Once she got it right, she had to also take her stockings off without damaging them. Then Kay raised the stakes by handing her a fancy sheer black pair and told her that this time she had to get them on while keeping the seams straight.

Kay also laced her into a tight waist cincher again. It was good for helping her stand up straight, but breathing wasn’t as easy. She pulled a lacy black camisole over Dee’s head and had to unhook the straps so she could put it on without raising her arms, and then hook them back when it was in place. A gauzy blouse with fluttery cap sleeves went over that, and then she stepped into a red skirt that was slightly longer than the previous day’s micro-mini, and zipped it up in back.

A pair of red patent leather pumps with four-inch heels completed her ensemble, and she stood up and looked in the mirror. The smaller waist and rounder hips really made her breasts look bigger. It was a deliberately sexy outfit, but she didn’t think she looked as much like a common hooker as the day before, maybe more of a high-class call girl. She supposed it was possible she could be just dressed to impress for a hot date or a night of clubbing, but she still felt more like a sex worker.

She had to repeat everything she’d learned about walking, and her accentuated figure really helped her match the models in the video. It was kind of weird spending the day watching behinds in tight skirts wiggling back and forth without feeling anything remotely sexual about it, but she guessed that meant Kay’s tea was working. Dee wondered if watching the tape of her own sexy posterior walking down the hall would have turned her on if not for the tea.

By dinner time, she had mastered the walk that Kay called a “runway sashay,” a slow sensual stride that needed a lot of roll in the hips. Dee was glad that all her walking lessons were over, until Kay told her there were two more walks she needed to be able to do, a fast, confident “catwalk strut” and a graceful, ethereal “ballroom glide.” It took four more days of training to add those walks to her repertoire.

All the exercise really made her sweaty and uncomfortable, but at least Evelyn was coming every day to give her a sponge bath, and on her fourth visit she even washed Dee’s hair for her. She had to lean over the edge of the bathtub, so it wasn’t quite as nice as getting a shampoo in a salon, but it was good to feel clean.

Once she had all three walks down, Kay made sure she never relaxed and reverted to a slouchy male style for getting around the house. Dee had to keep at it until a feminine stride became second nature and she wouldn’t even have to think about it. But with the formal walking lessons officially over, she thought they could take a break and switch back to another installment of “Establishing a Feminine Cultural Frame of Reference.”

Kay called Vanessa and invited her over for a day of Chick Flicks. They watched Terms of Endearment, and Dee really didn’t need to be told that she had permission to weep at the sad parts. After the movie they had a light lunch and talked about what they’d liked in the film, and the real lesson began in earnest. She wasn’t being too aggressively conversational like a alpha male would, but Kay did have some suggestions for alternate phrasing that would express her opinions in a more feminine manner. Dee also needed a little bit of coaching to talk more about feelings than things.

But by far the toughest part of the lesson was tying to use more gesture when talking, and to express herself as a female through body language. Dee had to struggle to think about every little movement, and she messed up a few times by over-exaggerating. Kay told her not to worry; it would take a lot of practice before it would feel natural or automatic.

Their second feature was Thelma and Louise. This time Kay paused it a few times, to call Dee’s attention to how an actress was moving while speaking, and had her try to mimic a pose or movement. The post-movie discussion spent a little too much time on the subject of Brad Pitt’s butt for her taste; she appreciated him aesthetically, but couldn’t really think of him as a sexual object the way the others could, especially with her libido turned down by Kay’s herbs. But the idea of him didn’t repulse her either, which seemed kind of weird. She felt she did a good job keeping up her end of the rest of the conversation, participating without trying to dominate.

The afternoon brought a surprise when Evelyn did not come alone, but brought her husband with her. After removing her dressings, Dr. Ben examined each of her surgical sites, and decided that her stitches were ready to come out. It didn’t really hurt, but having the bits of suture pulled through her skin was a weird feeling. The best part was the tremendous relief of finally getting the packing out of her nose.

Dee was eager to look in a mirror, to see what her new face looked like without all that tape and gauze, but they weren’t finished. They removed her blouse, and for the first time ever her surgical bra came off. Dee couldn’t help but look down at the very real pair of breasts sticking off her chest. There were a couple of stitches in each of her underarms that came off and then they were done.

She stood and went to the mirror, and it was amazing! The face looked familiar, but it was softened, more feminine, maybe even cute. And the boobs almost looked natural. They were big, but didn’t really seem too big for her body. Her areolas had stretched a bit, but her nipples were still on the small side. David looked at the girl in the mirror and wondered if he was still in there somewhere. The image really didn’t feel like the same person anymore.

Dee wasn’t sure how long she stood there dumbfounded at her own appearance. She only snapped out of it when Vanessa made a comment, “Damn, Girl! You’re really built!” Dee got really embarrassed that everyone was there now, and reflexively covered her naked breasts with her hands. Her huge boobs made her hands seem smaller and daintier.

She blushed even redder when Vanessa made her move her hands so she could measure Dee’s new bustline. It suddenly made sense why they’d called her in, since Claude had put her in charge of Dee’s wardrobe. Vanessa confirmed that she was a 38D, as planned. Ben said she could switch to regular bras in the daytime, but he wanted her to keep wearing the surgical bra at night. And he told Vanessa that push-ups and underwires were still off limits — soft cup only.

Vanessa went to rummage through the closet while Evelyn showed Dee how to rub the special cream into her breasts to promote elasticity in her skin and reduce the chance of getting stretch marks. Then she had to massage each one and give her implants a good squeeze to make sure everything was staying appropriately supple. Dee tried to pretend that it wasn’t terribly embarrassing by casually asking Ben and Evelyn if they had somewhere to be, or if they could stay for dinner. Her meatloaf was already in the oven and Vanessa had agreed to join them, so there would be plenty for more. Evelyn surprised her by accepting the invitation.

Ben had a new pill bottle for her. He’d reduced her pain medication and wanted her to switch right away, even though there was still some left in the old bottle. She was to start taking the lower dosage, but keep the stronger ones handy in case she had any strong pains, and to call him immediately if that happened.

Finally Vanessa returned from what seemed like an eternity going through her wardrobe. Dee was grateful to be less exposed. Vanessa brought her a black, silky bra and Kay talked her through the steps in putting it on. She had to slip her arms through the straps, and then bring the cups up to her breasts. Next, Lay told her to slide her hands along the band to the back, so that it didn’t move out of place, and then find the hooks on one side and the loops on the other and bring them together. She got one hook in, but there were three of them and on the first try she ended up getting the next hook into a different set of loops. Then she had the top and bottom hook okay, but the middle one was out and it was impossible to hook with the other two in place.

She had a tremendous sense of accomplishment at getting them all hooked, but Vanessa and Kay agreed that her band wasn’t tight enough and she needed to change it to the next set of loops. Once she finally got that done, she had to go back to the front and make sure she was sitting correctly in the cups. She had no idea what that felt like, and needed to be shown what a right and wrong fit looked and felt like. With the cups in the right place, she had to adjust the little buckles on the straps so they were tight enough but not too tight.

When it was all done, she looked in the mirror and it was worse than when she was topless. The sexy black bra had lace along the edges, and the cups only seemed to cover about two-thirds of her breasts, leaving the tops and inside edges exposed and decorated with lace. She was showing a cleavage, and it made her chest look bigger and more prominent than when her boobs were naked.

Beyond just wearing new underthings, they thought that Dee should change her outfit, too. Kay ushered Ben and Evelyn out of the room, but Dee wanted to make sure they were treated properly, with a drink or something. Kay said it was a good sign that she wanted to be a good hostess, and told her not to worry. She’d take care of them and then come back.

Vanessa had picked a silk wrap dress in a sort of rust brown color. It had three-quarter length sleeves and a really deep v-neck. It was almost too revealing. Dee thought that it would hang better if she used all her figure enhancements, so she took the dress off and then put on her padded panty girdle and waist cincher before putting the dress back on. At Vanessa’s suggestion, she also switched to suntan pantyhose. The shoes she’d selected were three-inch peeptoe pumps in copper-colored alligator texture.

The shoes made more sense when she added dangly earrings with copper bangles and little wooden beads, and a coordinating necklace that nestled a copper pendant right between her breasts. Vanessa put a bunch of thin copper bracelets on her left wrist and a large ring with a yellow stone on her right middle finger, and then let her look in the mirror. The color scheme really brought out the red accents in her hair.

Kay came up and did her makeup. Ordinarily, she would have stood by and instructed her student what to do and made her apply everything herself. But since they were pressed for time and Dee’s face was still a little tender, she cut her a break and did it all for her. She stuck mainly with the palette of earth tones that Vanessa had set, and went for a mostly natural look, with cocoa eye shadow, bronze blusher, and a maroon lipstick. She did inject a little drama in the look with black eye liner and mascara, and frightened Dee with an eyelash curler. She teased her hair up a little and gave it a shot of hairspray, and gave her a look in the mirror. Kay had dusted a little glittery powder in her décolletage, that twinkled when the light hit it a certain way. That drew her eye before she got a good look at her face.

David had never really learned to appreciate what makeup could do for the average woman. He’d always just shrugged it off as a societal convention with no real value. Living with Maritza who’d go from simply stunning to absolutely gorgeous when made up didn’t do much to help dispel that illusion. But when Dee looked at her reflection and saw what the right cosmetics could do to her plain yet feminine face, she was amazed. When they’d made up David to look like a woman that had been like a mask or disguise, but this was something different, more like an enhancement. The woman in the mirror was flawlessly beautiful! There was no possible way this person could ever have been male. Somewhere deep inside, David’s sense of identity was crumbling.

Dee was worried about messing up her pretty outfit when she finished getting dinner ready, but Vanessa was prepared. She tied a white ruffled apron onto her, and told her she could put her ring and bracelets in the pocket while she was cooking. They went downstairs and she told Vanessa and Kay to keep Ben and Evelyn entertained, refusing all offers to help with the meal, although she did let them serve the wine.

Most of the meal was nearly ready. The meatloaf was ready to come out of the oven to rest. The potatoes had been mashed and seasoned, and went in just long enough for the cheese to melt. The dinner rolls would be done at roughly the same time. She threw together a tossed salad fairly quickly. She was using cherry tomatoes, so all she had to do was tear up some romaine and slice a Bermuda onion. She’d made croutons the day before and had plenty left. She popped some mixed vegetables into the microwave while she stirred a roux into the drippings from the loaf for gravy.

She set the table and lit some candles for a centerpiece, put her ring and bracelets back on, hung her apron up in the pantry, and then called everyone in. They all complimented her on a lovely presentation, and Ben said the chef was even lovelier and proposed a toast to “Delicious food and beautiful company.” Dee blushed and said that she was merely the culmination of the efforts of the rest of them, but she hoped the meal would satisfy.

It did. As they ate, Evelyn turned back into a fan since she was off duty. She peppered Dee with questions about the latest novel. She had some difficulty thinking of herself as David the author, but did her best to come up with answers. It left her feeling strange and disoriented. She shook it off and focused on trying to eat in a feminine manner like Kay had taught her.

The dessert which had been chilling in the fridge featured a blueberry compote filling sandwiched between layers of sponge cake and topped with freshly whipped cream. She served it with a pot of strong, slightly bitter coffee. The flavors worked well together. Even though most of her guests were stuffed, it was too good a treat to pass up. They talked for a bit, but it wasn’t long before it was just Kay and Dee left.

Kay said she’d done well enough at hosting an impromptu dinner party that they’d be skipping some lessons. Most of her students would have taken a more masculine, aggressive approach, but Dee had seemed to know instinctively how to be a good hostess, allowing herself to slip into the background and let her culinary creations take center stage and show off for her. She hadn’t even tried to steer any of the conversations.

Dee took off her jewelry and swapped her dangly earrings for sleepers. Her feet felt relieved when she slipped off her shoes; there was a downside to reducing her pain medication. She hung her dress up and Kay had her sit at her vanity in her underwear to remove her makeup with cold cream wipes. She remarked that it would be nice to be able to shower again and that gave Kay an idea. She ran off to the bathroom, and Dee could hear the water running.

She’d decided that Dee’s reward for the day would be one of the ultimate female indulgences — a luxuriating bubble bath. She told Dee to strip and put on her robe. When she called her into the bathroom, the tub was filled with warm, floral-scented water covered in rich foam. Soft music was playing on a portable CD. She shed her robe and stepped into the tub, then slid down beneath the foam. It was a strange sensation as her breasts tried to float. Kay handed her a glass of sweet wine and a fashion magazine and told her to just relax and enjoy a well-earned soak.

Dee laid back and closed her eyes and listened to the music for a while. She felt very feminine, and ran her hands along her smooth legs and across her sexy flotation devices. After a few sips of wine the pleasant scent rising from the bath was making her very calm and serene. She picked up the magazine and read a few articles, trying to imagine herself in various styles. There was an article about getting your body ready for bikini season that was a little depressing, since her thick waist and flat behind would never look good in a two-piece.

She flipped ahead quickly and stopped short when she came to an ad that had a photo of Amanda. It brought to mind a few naughty memories, but mostly reminded David that he missed his girlfriend. The illusion faded for a bit, and he sat up in the tub and hugged his hairless legs to his breasts and let himself sob for a couple minutes before trying to get back in character. Dee ducked her head under water so Kay wouldn’t be able to tell she’d been crying, and then called out that she was done with her bath. She shouted back that she was to pull the plug then take a quick shower to rinse off the bubbles and to wash and condition her hair.

When she came out of the shower, Kay gave her a big fluffy bath sheet to dry off with and then tuck around herself, and a second towel for her hair, showing her how to turban it. She got out a bottle of after-bath moisturizer and was going to explain to Dee how to use it, but she already knew how. Maritza had made skin care part of David’s regular routine months before.

She put on a clean surgical bra and a fresh pair of white cotton panties, (Kay told her not to tuck anything inside her body, just push them all back and out of the way) and then she pulled a new sleeveless white cotton nightgown over her head. She had to comb out her hair while it was damp, and then Kay braided it for her so she wouldn’t get tangles while she slept.

She got into bed and wished Kay a good night. It had been a long and eventful day, which gave her a lot to think about. She hoped to have happy dreams. Oddly enough, her last thought before drifting off to sleep was the image of Brad Pitt’s butt.

Oscar Night by Jennifer Brock Novelist/Screenwriter David Fine promised to wear a gown to the Academy Awards in order to get an obnoxious fashion reporter to shut up about the tuxedo his friend fashion designer Claude Marsh had made for him. But since Claude felt insulted too, he assembled a team an worked with the assistance of David's girlfriend bisexual Venezuelan model Maritza Delgado to steer him in a more feminine metrosexual direction. But once the nominations were announced, they raised the bar and got David to agree that it would make an even bigger impact if he looked completely passably female in his gown. David went so far as to have his face surgically feminized and his breasts enhanced with implants. Claude hired Kay Thomas, and expert in teaching men to be women, to show David, now living around the clock as a woman she calls Dee, how to become all that she can be. In Part 13 the bandages came off, and in this installment Dee will venture outside her townhouse for the first time.

Part 14
Dee slept unevenly, having some odd dreams she couldn’t quite remember. And every so often she’d roll over in her sleep and her breasts would complain and wake her up. When she finally decided to get up, it was awkward figuring out how to get out of bed without rolling over. She tied on a robe that seemed to match her nightgown, and put her feet into the pair of two-inch mules that Kay had said were to serve as her slippers.

Remembering to walk as instructed, she sashayed into her bathroom, gathered up her skirts and sat down to relieve herself, even though she wasn’t taped. She performed her usual morning facial treatment, brushed her teeth, and tried to see if a bit of lipstick would make the girl in the mirror look a little less like a zombie. It did, in the sense that a vampire isn’t a zombie. But she didn’t feel like changing to a different color anyway.

She glided down into the kitchen and started the coffee. She wasn’t in the mood for a big breakfast, so she just had a bowl of cereal and some juice. Kay hadn’t gotten up yet, so the morning paper was still waiting on the front steps. If she wanted to read it, she’d have to go out there and get it herself. The thought of going outside as a woman launched a thousand butterflies in her stomach, and nearly sent her orange juice back to her mouth. Why did Kay have to sleep late?

Dee paced back and forth in the front hall, doing her fiercest strut to try to psych herself up. She went to the powder room and emptied her nervous bladder, taking extra care to tuck everything away when she had finished, so there would be no unsightly bulges. Unfortunately, the tape was upstairs, so she had to hope her panties were tight enough to keep things secured.

She tightened her robe so that it would be obvious to anyone who caught a glimpse that this person was definitely female, and couldn’t possibly be the guy who lives there. She strode to the door, took a deep breath, and opened it just a crack. The morning sun was very bright and she had to squint, but she saw the newspaper was in the middle of the front walk, out of reach a good twelve feet away. She would have to leave the house to get it.

However, the bright light gave her an idea. She went upstairs to see what kinds of accessories she had available. On her vanity table, she found the quintessential element of LA fashion for anyone who desired anonymity: a pair of designer sunglasses. They had big smoky lenses that would be just the thing to keep her from being recognized as David.

While she was up there, she taped her tuck, just in case. Another check in the full-length mirror revealed someone who looked less like a zombie and more like a party girl who’d had a rough night the day before. Her hair was still in a tight braid or she would have tried doing something with it to make sure she looked female from a distance.

As confident as she was going to get, she went back downstairs and opened the front door all the way this time, then sashayed down the walk and bent down from the knees as she’d been trained to pick up her newspaper. She carried it in and started reading the front page as she finished her breakfast. Without thinking, she pushed her sunglasses up onto her forehead in a completely feminine manner.

She was sitting there reading the news when Kay finally appeared. Dee told her about fetching the paper and she was impressed with her ability to push past the fears. It was also a good thing, since they’d be going out again. She told Dee to go get dressed in something comfortable but not too casual, and she’d be up in a bit to critique her choices and give her a hand with her hair and makeup.

Dee could hardly believe it, but she tidied up her breakfast dishes and then did a quick sashay up the stairs. This was obviously some kind of test. She choked back her panic and tried to focus on the task at hand.

February in Los Angeles isn’t exactly winter weather, but it isn’t quite spring either. She looked through her closet and found a sweater dress that would probably work nicely. It was a sort of vanilla color, calf length with a loose cowl neck and long sleeves. When she touched it, she discovered the softest thing she’d ever touched. It was probably cashmere, or at least a silk/cashmere blend.

It might be the softest sweater in the world, but it was still a sweater and she didn’t want to be itchy. So that probably meant wearing a slip under it. David’s grandmother always wore a slip under a dress, but Maritza only did some of the time. Dee guessed that this would be one of those times. She found a white lacy slip that seemed to be the right length.

What kind of shoes would go best with this kind of dress? She tried to rack her brain to recall all the fashion shows David had been dragged to. Nothing sprung to mind, so she took a different approach and looked through her shoe collection to see what was available.

There was a pair of boots that spoke to her. The heels were a little on the spiky side, but she was confident in her skills after all the walking lessons. They were almost knee-high, in soft, chocolate-brown leather. The idea of a vanilla dress with chocolate boots just made too much sense not to do it. She laid the dress out on the bed and stuck the boots in the bottom to see if it worked.

It needed something to tie them together. She poked through the closet and found a belt that seemed to be in the same kind of leather as the boots. It had a decent enough weight to it without being too wide. She tested it in her mockup and it did the trick perfectly.

She realized that even though her boots would probably be the only thing showing under the dress, it was probably a good idea to wear hosiery anyway. She selected a pair of suntan pantyhose for convenience.

Now it was time to get dressed. What was she forgetting? She had her nightgown off before she realized she hadn’t picked out any underwear, or lingerie, or whatever a girl is supposed to call her bra and panties.

Fortunately, Vanessa had followed Dr. Ben’s rules of no underwire or push-up bras when she assembled Dee’s wardrobe, so there was nothing in her drawers that she wasn’t allowed to wear. She didn’t think the dress showed much cleavage at all, so she picked a pretty pink lace full coverage bra. To be properly dressed, she looked and found a matching panty.

The panties went on easy, but then she had to slowly replay her lesson in how to put on a bra. The first time it was much too tight, and her boobs complained loudly. With the straps and hooks adjusted properly, it was much more comfortable. She pulled on her padded girdle and tightened her waist cincher, and then slid her hose up her legs.

The straps on the slip adjusted just like on a bra, but when the cups lined up with her breasts it fit like a glove. She pulled the dress over her head and made sure her arms were snug in the sleeves. The realization hit her that she’d forgotten to put on deodorant, so she found her little floral roll-on and snuck it in through her neckline to do each underarm.

She sat on the bed and zipped up her boots, and buckled the belt around where her female waist was pretending to be. She stood up and checked the mirror. It seemed to come together nicely. Other than hair and makeup, what did her outfit need? There was a purse in the closet that matched her boots, so she grabbed that although she didn’t know what to put in it.

The last step she needed to do was pick out what jewelry to wear. She thought maybe a simple gold pendant would go best in the wide neck, and she found a plain gold circle that would work, but she had to switch it to a shorter chain. A pair of wide hoop earrings coordinated with that the best. She didn’t like the look of putting a bracelet on with the long sleeve, so she kept her wrists bare, but she put on a few gold rings to give her hands some sparkle. Her right hand got a twisted knot on her ring finger and a sparkly crystal on a heart-shaped setting on her index finger, and her left hand got a filigree butterfly on the middle finger.

She called to Kay and told her she was ready to be judged. Kay looked her over and said that she did an admirable job. Dee was one of the easiest students she’d ever had; she already had many very well-honed female instincts, and so far no male attitudes that needed to be exorcised. The only change she made to Dee’s look was to add a watch bracelet. They had an appointment where it would be important to be on time.

Before doing Dee’s makeup, Kay had her go wash her face and make sure the wrong-colored lipstick was all off. She had her sit at her vanity table and showed her how to drape a towel over her shoulders to keep any powders that might fall from messing up her dress. Kay took a pair of tweezers and radically plucked Dee’s eyebrows into a beautiful, feminine arch, and then used a pencil and a comb to give them more definition. In their delicate new shape and without the projecting bone behind them, there was nothing even remotely masculine remaining.

Even though they were slightly behind schedule, Kay made Dee do her own makeup, talking her through every step. She started with a little bit of concealer under her eyes, and then a light coat of foundation all over, followed by a translucent powder to even the texture. Kay remarked that she wouldn’t need any of the “special tricks” she usually had to teach her clients; Dee could have the same makeup routine as any genetic female. They were doing a little more than the average woman used in the daytime, but only because of the nature of their appointment, which she wouldn’t expand upon.

Applying eyeliner was scary. She had to almost poke herself in the eye with a sharp little pencil. The magnifying mirror made it a little easier, but her hand was still nervous and shaky. The first line she did came out a little uneven, and Kay made her wipe it off and try again. The eye makeup wipe removed some of her earlier work and she had to reapply concealer, foundation, and powder to the area. She asked Kay if she could wait until she got the eyeliner right to fix the other stuff, but she said it would encourage her to try harder.

It took two more attempts to get the left eye done, but the right eye was good enough on the first attempt. The only tricky part about mascara was getting the wand at the right angle. She made a few marks on her eyelid, but fortunately they hadn’t done eye shadow yet, so removing them didn’t mess up anything else.

That was next. Kay had pulled a palette of browns and beiges for her eyes from Dee’s outfit. There was a real art to blending the shades, so Kay did one eye for her and had her copy it on the other side, one step at a time. When they were finished, her eyes didn’t look familiar at all.

The trick to applying blush was finding the right spot on her face. Kay told her it was something that takes even natural women a while to learn, if like Dee they don’t have strongly defined cheekbones. She had to make an exaggerated smile to help in locating the “apples” of her cheeks, and then give them a quick stroke with the brush.

Finally, she needed to put on some lipstick. Kay corrected her color choice from earlier by going with a darker tone. Dee thought she knew how to apply it: just purse your lips and draw on the red part, then smack them together. But Kay showed her how to do it using a little paintbrush instead of directly from the tube, to have more control over the shape. She did get to kiss a tissue like they always show women doing when they put on lipstick in movies.

With her makeup done, they had to think about what to do with her hair. Kay took off the elastic and helped Dee take it out of the braid. It came out slightly damp and with a little more wave to it. Dee wanted to just wear her hair down, but Kay said she needed to keep her hair off of her face and couldn’t hide. She found a nice leather hair slide and pulled her hair back and off of her face while still letting it hang loose in the back. She teased her bangs a little and said that would have to do.

Kay showed Dee that they’d already everything that David had had in his wallet into a ladies’ clutch that she could put into the handbag she’d picked out. Then she told her what else to put in there, like enough of the cosmetics they’d just used so that she could refresh her look, and a brush and comb and a spare hair clip to fix her hair, and some tissues, and her keys, and a bottle of clear nail polish in case she got a run in her hose, and her sunglasses, and her pain pills, and a bottle of hand sanitizer, and a tampon just in case.

“Just in case what?”

“In case you’re in the ladies’ room and someone asks if you’ve got one.”

“The ladies’ room? Isn’t that illegal? I don’t think I’ll be in there.”

“Relax, D. You’ll do fine. With your pretty face and nice figure, no one will think you don’t belong in there.”

“But my voice is too deep.”

“We’ll start your voice lessons this afternoon. In the mean time, just don’t try to say too much. Try softening your voice to just above a whisper, and no one will think you’re strange. Think of Bea Arthur. Genetic women don’t all have high-pitched voices.”

“If you say so.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll be with you the whole time, and I’ll do most of the talking for us.”

Dee was still very nervous, so Kay had her use the bathroom before they left, to make needing a trip to the ladies’ less likely. David’s car was in the garage, so she didn’t have to feel self-conscious about walking outside again. Kay showed Dee the way a woman gets in and out of a car in a dress, and had her practice a few times. She didn’t want to throw too many things at her at once, so Kay drove.

Their first stop was at a branch of David’s bank. Kay told Dee to walk in and use the ATM, and withdraw a couple hundred dollars. She would have left her purse in the car if Kay hadn’t reminded her. She showed her where in the little clutch wallet inside in the big bag her ATM card was, and where the bills would go. She took a moment to close her eyes and center herself, checked her reflection in the vanity mirror, and then got out of the car, swinging her legs around just as she was taught.

She slung her bag over her shoulder and sashayed into the bank. An older man in a business suit coming out held the door for her, and she smiled and murmured a thanks. He turned his head to watch as she passed, but she didn’t notice. The ATM was already in use by a little old lady, and there was a young guy in jeans and t-shirt waiting behind her. She got in line and waited.

Kay had never explicitly taught her how women stand, so she had to figure it out based on her lessons in walking and getting in and out of chairs. Her main problem was that all her posture training said she needed to stand up straight and hold her head high, but she really wanted to look down at the floor and avoid eye contact. She wasn’t sure what a real woman would do when forced to stand and wait, so she tried to think of ways to seem busy.

She pulled out her compact and checked her makeup, dabbing a little powder here and there. She really wished Kay hadn’t taken away her phone, or she could pretend to call someone. She tried looking across the bank to where the tellers were, to see if there was something to seem interested in. She finally settled on grabbing a pamphlet about mortgage rates from a display not too far away, and attempted to seem fascinated by it.

After a while, she got that creepy feeling that she was being watched, and looked up to see the guy in front of her was staring at her. Oh crap, he knew! She needed to get a grip on herself before she had a panic attack. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Ok, so this guy had figured out that she was a crossdresser; what had he seen, and could she keep him from telling anyone else?

She opened her eyes, and the guy wasn’t staring anymore. He was actually looking away and seemed kind of embarrassed. Something in his expression and body language seemed familiar, and then the realization hit her — she hadn’t been read; he’d been caught checking her out! It was the complete opposite of what she’d feared. This guy had been imagining her naked, and she was sure that his mind’s eye saw a vagina between her legs and nothing more. She smiled to herself and shot him a wink and pointed at the ATM. He’d been so enthralled with her that he hadn’t noticed it was free.

He chivalrously said that she could go ahead of him. She smiled, thanked him, and did her sexiest walk up to the machine. It was hard to concentrate on her banking knowing full well that he was probably looking at her ass the whole time, but she managed to pull it off without a hitch. She pulled out her clutch bag and removed her ATM card like she’d done it a thousand times. There was a slight bit of awkwardness when she realized that with her longer fingernails she had to hold her fingers parallel to the keypad instead of perpendicular, but she didn’t mess up her password or anything. She put her money and receipt and her card back in her bag, turned and walked out.

Feeling mischievous, she looked back over her shoulder and waved to the guy who’d been watching her wiggle. He turned beet red and she let out a little laugh. She opened the door and backed into the car like she was supposed to, and then let out a great exhale of relief and allowed herself to shake from all the accumulated nervous energy.

She told Kay how it went, and she said that Dee had done an excellent job, and that she really had nothing to worry about. Dr. Ben had done great work. As long as she kept her clothes on, no one would ever suspect that her panties packed a surprise. The only “tells” that remained were a few subtleties in the way she moved, that they’d be working on, and her voice if she were to speak up, but intensive training for that would be starting as soon as they’d finished their errands for the day.

She did give Dee a warning that she needed to be careful about flirting with or teasing strange men, like she had in the bank. Some guys mistake a smile for a proposition, and might try to pursue her. But as long as she kept her contact brief, and in public places, in the light of day, she should be safe. Since she lacked a genetic woman’s lifetime of experience that helps her tell the creeps from the decent guys, she’d be extra vulnerable to predators. Kay tried not to be too scary, but the “all men are potential rapists” school of thought has saved more women than “innocent until proven guilty.”

They drove off in silence, as she’d given Dee a lot to think about. She was still in something of a state when they reached their second stop, a cute little bakery in the middle of nowhere. This time Kay got out of the car with her, and they both went into the shop.

The woman behind the counter was about as tall as Kay, but stockier, and probably a little older. There was a hint of olive in her complexion, and maybe a touch of gray in her long black hair, which was pulled back in a bun under a hairnet. She wore a long white chef’s apron over a blue dress.

Kay greeted her like an old friend. “D., this is Jackie, baker of the best cupcakes in the county.”

Dee waved and mumbled, “Hi.”

“Jackie, this is D., my latest disciple.”

Jackie looked her up and down with wide eyes. “Oh, really? I never would have guessed.”

She knew the kind of work Kay did; she knew what Dee was! Dee wanted to run away and hide somewhere.

“Don’t worry, Honey. I’m not the enemy. I’m a graduate of Miss Kay’s tutelage myself.”

Now it was Dee’s turn to be surprised. Jackie was a man pretending to be a woman, too, or a woman who used to be a man, or whatever the right distinction is? David had never met a trans-anything before, as far as he knew, and now he not only was one but there was another only a few feet away.

Jackie could tell. She’d seen that look before. “Am I the first of the sisterhood to meet you since your coming out?” She took off her disposable gloves and came around to the front to give Dee a big bear hug. “Welcome to the club, Sis! You listen to Kay; she knows what she’s talking about.” She gave Kay an embrace, as well. “It’s nice to see you again, too. So are you just taking her out into the world, or are you here on business?”

Kay sighed. “Business, unfortunately. She’s got an appointment with Loretta at 11:00. We’ll need the usual dozen red velvet cupcakes with cream cheese icing.”

Jackie went back behind the counter and filled a pink box with their order. When Dee paid for the cupcakes, she handed her a business card. “Feel free to call me if you’re having any trouble adjusting and need someone to talk to. I wrote my cell on the back. But a pretty girl like you ought to have no trouble passing. I only wish I looked half as good as you.” Dee thanked her, blushed, and put the card in her purse with the change.

Kay only gave a partial explanation of what was going on as they drove to their next destination. Dee needed a photo id that matched her look better than David’s driver license, just in case. She didn’t plan on taking Dee anywhere that would need her to show ID to get in, or shop at any pretentious stores that would claim to need ID before accepting a credit card, but for legal protection it was a good idea to officially update the photo on file. Sometimes cops can be jerks, and if somehow one asked her for ID and she didn’t look anything like the picture, he could take her in for committing fraud by pretending to be someone she wasn’t.

So they were going to get her an ID, and Loretta was someone Kay knew at the DMV. She was going to do them a favor, and in exchange they were going to “accidentally” leave behind their box of cupcakes when they left the office. They wouldn’t be doing anything illegal, so she didn’t need to worry. Technically they were probably bribing a government agent, but no one worries about those kinds of technicalities.

It turns out the DMV office they needed to get to was in Glendale, so it was a bit of a drive. Dee tried to get some more information about what to do or say, but Kay told her to just relax. They were doing this before any vocal training because Dee would have to speak in her natural voice as part of proving her identity to Loretta, but that wouldn’t happen out in the open in public.

When they got there, they didn’t have to stand in the usual DMV line from Hell, since they had an appointment. Loretta was a sassy little black lady who had a giant smile when she saw Kay. Kay had already filled out the forms ahead of time, and showed her David’s original ID, and a letter from the doctor, and gave her word, which was good enough for Loretta. All she asked Dee was whether this information was correct, and Dee tried to sound as “David” as possible when she said yes. It must have been good enough, because it made Loretta look twice.

She walked Dee over to a workstation where she stood in front of a curtain while Loretta worked a camera. Dee made a little smile and tried not to blink, and thought she took a pretty good picture, but Loretta took an extra one, “just in case something went wrong.”

It turns out something did go wrong. The first time she printed the data for the card, the computer was acting funny and only printed the first initial in the box for the first name, and it left the box for gender completely blank. Loretta didn’t catch the mistake until after the card went through the laminator. She thought they might get a kick out of it and showed them the bad card at the same time she was giving them the good one that said “David” and “M” like it was supposed to. She’d be taking the bad card to the shredder later.

Loretta piled the Identification forms Kay had given her on the table, and she suddenly noticed the time and gathered them up quickly and told Dee they had to hurry back to the city or they’d be late for their next appointment. Dee thanked Loretta and followed Kay quickly out to the car.

Once they were on the road, Kay handed Dee the paperwork and told her to sort it. Son of a gun, that bad ID card had gotten mixed in with the others! She must have swept it off the table with the other stuff. And wouldn’t you know it, but she couldn’t remember what happened to the box of cupcakes. She recalled that she didn’t want to leave them in the car where the frosting would have melted, but she couldn’t picture where she left it.

With the official story out of the way, Kay told Dee to use the “D” card for things like getting into clubs or using a credit card, but to always use the “David” card if a cop ever wanted identification. The other one wasn’t exactly legal, but it wasn’t exactly illegal either — nothing on it was false; it was just incomplete. But cops don’t like gray areas.

She drove them out to an old vacant shopping center. It had a nice big parking lot, and that was where Dee was going to learn to drive in heels. It shouldn’t be too bad since her car was an automatic, but it would feel very different from how she was used to driving. Kay told her that some women keep an extra pair of flats in the car and change their shoes for driving, and then swap back when they get where they’re going, but she didn’t believe in giving her students that kind of a crutch.

Between her higher heels and her posture lessons, Dee was sitting in a very different position than usual, and she had to adjust everything: the mirrors, the distance from the seat to the dash, and the angle of the seat back. She put on her sunglasses and started the engine. It was all about learning how to put the right amount of pressure on the pedals with her spiky boots on. At first she was very jerky, erring on the side of braking too quickly, but after a while she was comfortable doing laps in the parking lot and Kay told her to try to drive home.

She was nervous and a little too cautious on the city roads, and had some trouble getting onto the highway until a nice guy let her merge. She gave him a little wave, and asked Kay if that was appropriate. She said that was fine, and she could even go so far as to blow a guy a kiss for being nice on the highway, since there were so many road ragers out there spreading a little more love couldn’t be a bad thing.

Back at home, Kay had her go up and change out of her waist cincher and girdle and come back down. She’d need to be able to breathe freely. Kay had set up a special DVD in the living room that would teach her how to change her voice to something more feminine. The presenter was a trained speech therapist who was also a transsexual, so she really knew what she was talking about.

It wasn’t going to happen quickly, either. The lessons were a series of steps, and only after completing them all would she end up sounding like a natural female. Because it wasn’t healthy to put too much stress on the vocal chords, she could only do one step a day.

It started simply enough by learning about how the voice works, how the various features of a voice are generated by the breath, and voice box and in the mouth. And the instructor talked about the differences between male and female voices. She then went on to the first practical lesson, which was about breath control. Dee followed along, and thought she was doing a decent job.

It was kind of weird sitting and talking to a television with Kay sitting there watching her. She didn’t say anything until the lesson was over, when she pointed out some ways Dee could improve her technique, and they made sense. After dinner she did the lesson again and Kay said she was definitely on the right track.

Her day had been so nerve-wracking, she ended it with another relaxing bath, only this time she opted for a book instead of a fashion magazine. Kay gave her a choice, and she went with the classic Pride and Prejudice.

Oscar Night by Jennifer Brock David Fine, a bestselling novelist and Oscar-nominated screenwriter, was sticking up for an insult directed at his friend fashion designer Claude Marsh when he made a flippant comment to an annoying television personality agreeing to show up at the Academy Awards ceremony in a gown instead of a tuxedo. He was convinced that it would be far less embarrassing to attempt to appear as completely and fully female instead of just looking like a man in a dress. To that end, he's had some facial surgeries as well as a sizeable pair of breast implants. Dee, as she's been calling herself is under the tutelage of Kay Thomas, a feminine deportment coach Claude hired to give her a month-long crash course in how to be a woman. In this installment, Kay helps Dee try to figure out what kind of girl she is.

Part 15
Dee’s second day of voice lessons went much the same as the first. After breakfast she had to put together a casual outfit for herself. There was a bit of a chill in the air, so she started by picking a nice-looking fuchsia twinset with a camisole and cardigan in a soft knit. To go with it, she selected a denim skirt that turned out to be shorter than it looked on the hanger. It came to about eight inches above the knee, but she really didn’t feel like looking for a replacement so she kept it. For shoes, she went with a funky pair of wedge-heeled sandals with crisscrossing leather straps.

Kay had two comments about her wardrobe choices. First, she said that only much-younger girls could get away with the “visible bra strap” look, so if she was going to wear that camisole, she should switch to a strapless bra. Dee tried to protest that the cardigan would cover her straps, but Kay worried that as the day got warmer she might take it off, and then her fashion faux pas would be glaring.

When Dee had taken her top off, Kay noticed that it had a built-in shelf bra, so she wouldn’t need one. Dee had thought that internal elastic was just to make it fit better. Even though Kay assured her that it would provide enough support, her breasts felt much more loose and bouncy without a real bra.

Kay’s second complaint was that Dee hadn’t worn sandal-foot pantyhose. The visible reinforced toes of her nylons were unacceptable. Dee just hadn’t realized there was that much difference in hosiery. To make it worse, once she had the wrong hose off and Kay was looking at her feet, she decided that her toenails needed a new color, so Dee had to stop and give herself a pedicure. She did horribly on a few of the smaller toes and had to strip off the polish and start fresh. Of course, new polish on her toes needed new polish on her fingers to match, and Kay naturally made Dee do it all herself. It took a while, but she was satisfied with her new shiny nails. They were a cherry color that worked with her top without being too matchy.

Kay then led her through applying her makeup. For a casual daytime look, she had Dee use powder but not foundation, and mascara but not eyeliner. She chose a rose eye shadow and didn’t have her do all the complicated layering and blending that a nighttime look would need, and kept the color strictly to the upper eyelid. Kay made Dee pick out a lipstick color, and approved when she went with a soft pink that was the same shade as her nails, but paler and not quite as bold.

After thinking about hairstyles, Dee asked if she could try a simple ponytail. Kay helped her find a scrunchie that was almost the same color as her top, and showed her how to put it on. David had worn a ponytail many times, so there was a slight familiarity to it, but at the same time it was very different. Instead of gathering the hair at the nape of the neck, the feminine style was to gather from the middle of the back of the head, which gave the ponytail more bounce and character instead of just lying flat. Also, the hairdressers had put more body into her hair so it flared out from the gather much more than it had before, and better resembled the tail of an actual pony. But the most striking difference was in the hair that couldn’t be gathered. The bangs on her forehead and the delicate wisps that framed her face created a look that was undeniably female and, she’d have to admit, even cute.

She wanted to go with fun pieces of jewelry, and started with a pair of gold hoop earrings, and echoed them with a handful of gold bangles on each wrist, and a couple rings on each hand. She tried to go with a simple double-strand chain necklace, but Kay pointed out that the sharp angled line of a pendant would work better with her neckline than the soft curve of a chain. Dee looked through her jewelry box and picked a pretty gold butterfly that had crystals (or diamond chips?) on its wings. The line of its chain did work better with her top, but it also seemed to focus glittery attention right between her boobs. Kay told her that wasn’t a problem; Dee needed to learn to be proud of her “assets” anyway.

The rest of Dee’s morning entailed going through a speech lesson off the DVD, as Kay pointed out mistakes she’d made, offering suggestions on how to do better. Her voice still had a long way to go, but she was close to getting the right pitch. Dee wanted to keep working at it, but Kay warned her that pushing too fast could strain her vocal chords and ruin the whole thing. They took a short lunch break, and even though Dee was the one making the meal it almost felt like a break, since the crockpot had been cooking their soup since the day before, and even though she baked fresh sourdough breadsticks to go with it, they were fun to make.

After lunch, Kay had Dee work on her penmanship. She had to practice writing “D. Fine” in as feminine a manner as possible, over and over again until her wrist ached. When she got to the point where she could consistently make the flourished curlicues on the capital letters and always dot her I with a little circle (Kay thought a heart would be too much), she got to sign the back of the credit card for “D. Fine” that had arrived in the mail.

Then it was time for another scary venture out in public. Dee put her clutch wallet, with her new credit card in it, into the shoulder bag that worked the best with her ensemble. She tried to claim that the weather called for a jacket, but Kay could tell that she was just trying to find a way to hide her chest and said no. She even suggested that it might be a nice enough day that she’d be taking off her cardigan and walking around in just the cami. Kay made Dee drive this time and she was glad she’d chosen wedges that day instead of spike heels.

They went over to the Galleria in Glendale, and Kay explained that the theme for the day was “Persona.” Dee’s mission for the day was to work on what kind of image as a woman she wanted to project to the world. Who was Dee? To that end, they were starting at the fragrance counter in Nordstrom’s. Every woman has a scent; what would Dee choose for hers, and what would that say about her personality?

She was nervous, but Kay did most of the talking, and the salesgirl was very helpful. They sniffed several samples. At first, Dee was tempted to choose Maritza’s favorite, Jean Paul Gaultier Classique, in order to have a reminder of her at all times, plus it came in the world’s sexiest bottle. But Kay had done her homework and declared that one off limits.

For a while she was leaning toward the epitome of glamour, Chanel No. 5, but it just seemed like too boring a decision. In her best soft voice she asked the girl to suggest something exotic, and ended up becoming captivated by Ralph Lauren’s Notorious, a spicy fragrance with a hint of musk. Kay thought it was a bold choice, but it did seem to work well with Dee’s body chemistry. The salesgirl talked her into adding a matching lotion, and didn’t blink or ask for ID when Dee used her credit card. She smiled and wished them a nice day as she handed Dee the fancy shopping bag.

Kay had come prepared. They stopped off in the ladies’ room and she pulled some cleansing wipes out of her purse to remove all the extra sample scents from Dee’s arm, and then she had her apply her new perfume properly, with a few strategic spritzes and then a walk into a cloud. Dee liked her new scent; it really helped her feel feminine. She didn’t even think to worry about being in the ladies’ room until they’d already left.

They browsed for a while, so Dee could get the feel for the female shopping experience, where you do a lot of looking but no actual buying. It involved a lot of walking around, stopping every so often to look at a particular article of clothing, feeling the fabric, and even pulling out a hanger to hold up a garment in front of you, even when you have no intention of purchasing it. It was more exercise than Dee had had in a long time.

She was grateful when Kay then took her through the mall to the food court. They got a couple skinny cappuccinos and sat at a table where they could watch the shoppers going by. It turned out to be another lesson.

“You’ve been using your walks interchangeably,” Kay began, “switching them at random. That’s not the way to do it.”

Dee got defensive. “It hasn’t been arbitrary or anything. When we were shopping I was doing the sashay in the stores when we saw something interesting because that’s the slowest, and doing the strut between stores because it’s fastest, and using the glide inside the store between departments because it’s faster but not too fast.”

“That’s where you’re making the mistake. The difference in the walks isn’t speed, but attitude.”

Dee gave a confused look. “I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”

“Maybe an example will help. See that blonde in the pink capris down by Fredericks? Watch how she’s moving. You automatically form an impression about her personality, that she’s the kind of girl who doesn’t take crap from anyone, and that’s all just in the way she walks. If you look carefully, you’ll see that she’s doing a variation on your basic catwalk strut. She’s not in a hurry so she’s going slower than when you do it, but the deliberate stride is still there, as well as the cocky angle in her hips.”

“Wow. I didn’t realize.”

“I know. That’s why we’re here. It’s easier to show you than to tell you what I mean. Now since you’re on an abbreviated timeline, we didn’t do all twelve walks. But the three you’ve got cover the most important archetypes.” She looked over to make sure Dee was still following her. “Have you heard of the ‘Madonna/Whore Theory?’”

Dee nodded. “Freud, wasn’t it? It had something to do with men not wanting to fall in love with women they have sex with, and vice versa. Are you saying if I walk one way I can make a man fall in love with me, and if I walk another way I can make a man want to have sex with me? Well, that’s only two walks. What’s the other walk for?”

“Hey, you’re stealing my speech! I keep forgetting that I’ve read your books and can tell you’ve studied almost as much about human nature as I have, and you have much less of a typical clueless male mind than my usual clients. Yeah, you’ve got the gist. But I open up the picture wider than Freud. It’s not just men that you project a persona toward; it’s everyone. When you sashay, it announces that you are The Whore. Your defining characteristic is sensuality. It says to a man, ‘Play your cards right and I’m yours.’ It says to a woman, ‘I am comfortable in my body, and I know what makes it feel good — want me or want to be me, and keep your man on a short leash.’ You really should save that walk for when you want to make a statement to bring out lust or jealousy in someone. Unless you decide that the persona you want to project most of the time is all about sex.”

“I see. I never really thought about what the way I walked said about me.”

“Now on the other side of the coin is the glide. That’s for when you want to be The Madonna. Here, the defining characteristic is grace. It’s for when you want to appear to move effortlessly, and in a full ballgown you can even seem not to touch the ground. You can evoke beauty without seeming sexual. It’s like how a ballerina can wear a tiny skin-tight leotard but her performance is not as grounded in animal physicality as a dancer in a basketball halftime show. You can transcend earthly things and carry yourself as an angel or goddess. It says to men, ‘Aspire to deserve me.’ To women, it’s more ‘Aspire to become me.’ I could see that as working well as your usual walk. It would fit well with that whole June Cleaver / Donna Reed thing you’ve got going on at home.”

Dee wrinkled her nose. “What thing is that?”

“The sort of natural way you easily fall into the role of hostess or housewife. You want to make all who come into your home welcome and contented. I meant it as a compliment, really.”

“Well then, I suppose I should thank you for your kind words.” Dee smiled and fluttered her eyelashes a bit. “So if the sashay is for whores and the glide is for madonnas, who is the strut for? I don’t think Freud had a third category.”

“That’s what makes my worldview more complete than deal old Siggy’s. When you use the strut, it says to the world that you are The Bitch. You’re all about confidence and independence. It says to men, ‘You will need to work hard to earn a chance with me, so don’t waste my time with tired lines and worn-out moves.’ It says to women, ‘I am better than you, and you know it.’ And basically it just says to everyone that you really don’t care what they think about you. If you want to project a strong persona, you could use that as your default walk. So take some time to think about who you are, or actually more who you want the world to think you are. And make sure to keep that in mind when you’re planning your big debut on national television.”

“Well, based on all that I can tell you I’ll be doing a strut when I walk down the red carpet past that annoying Jane Waters.” Dee laughed. “I’ll have to think some more on who I want to be in general.”

“Good idea. But remember that it’s not about who you are on the inside as much as it’s about how you’re perceived.”

Dee leaned in and shifted to more hushed tone. “Of course. I mean, after all who I am on the inside isn’t really female.”

Kay replied with a conspiratorially whisper of her own. “Are you so sure? Although you should be thinking not in biology terms of male vs. female, but rather in psychology terms of masculine vs. feminine. And as I’ve gotten to know you there are many strong feminine aspects of your personality, and personality is in that space between identity, how you see yourself, and persona, how you let others see you. But if things are getting into an uncomfortable realm for you, psyche-wise, it might help if you treat this whole thing like some of my acting clients do. Take your strong sense of self, your core identity, including how you view your roles and attitudes with respect to gender, who David is, and push that down inside. Sublimate the actor.” She made a fist with her left hand. “Then on top of that, you create the identity of the character.” She covered her fist with her right hand. “What is Dee’s identity, as a female, including all her gender roles and attitudes? You may be more comfortable compartmentalizing that way. Then when you have a firm grasp of your character, there’s another layer.” She pulled her fist out from under her hand, and then waved her left hand in the air above her right one. “And that’s persona: who does Dee let the world see her as? Now 90% of what we work on, how you walk and talk and dress and do your hair and makeup is in this space here, but you need to keep in mind what’s underneath, to make sure that this persona is believable and consistent and appears grounded in something.”

Dee nodded. “That makes sense. I’ve done something similar when developing characters in my writing, but it feels more intense when it’s not just in the abstract. I’m glad you’re here to keep me on track. I seem to be creeping close to a meltdown every so often.”

“That’s okay. A lot of my clients go through crises of identity; it’s not unusual.”

Dee reached out and touched the side of Kay’s hand. “I know you’re being paid for this, but you’re a great comfort, and a good friend. Thank you.”

Kay pulled her into a hug. “You’re welcome. That’s very sweet of you, and definitely what the Madonna would say.” She smiled at her student.

They sat around people-watching for a little while longer, and Dee had to identify elements of her walks in women passing by and show how the movements related to their attitudes. Kay said she did a good job, and deserved to be rewarded. However, her “reward” was to go shoe shopping, that quintessentially female activity. Kay said that she needed more experience feeling like a woman in public, and nothing else could do that as well as trying on pretty shoes.

Dee said she was nervous and afraid of being found out, but Kay just made her take her cardigan off and put it in the shopping bag with her perfume. With her impressive chest on display, it would announce her womanhood to the universe for her. She felt very vulnerable, but as a woman, so in a weird way that worked.

A creepy guy in Bakers who seemed to enjoy touching her foot a little too much, measured her and said she took a 10  ½ medium, which meant she had to try on both a 10 and 11 in every style. And for each pair of shoes, he’d kneel down and help her get them on, trying to sneak a peek up her skirt when he wasn’t focused on her reaction to the air conditioning.

Dee was growing weary of pretending to be excited about shoes when she tried on a pair of burgundy faux-alligator peeptoe slingbacks that she actually liked. They were fun, and about as comfortable as a shoe with a three-inch heel can get, and she really thought they made her legs look sexy. She told Kay those were the shoes she wanted, and Kay agreed that they were fabulous, but she had the guy but them back anyway and they left the store.

Dee was confused. What was the point in spending all that time looking for something you weren’t going to buy? Kay had to explain the intricacies of shopping to her. You only pay full retail price for a pair of shoes if you have a special occasion that urgently needs them. Since you’ve already picked them out ahead of time, you’re ready to snatch them up if the store has a sale, and you can get them faster than someone else who has to wait for the assistant so she can try them on first. You are allowed to go back to the store every so often and try them on again, and if the need to own them becomes so great that you can’t wait for a sale, you just need to invent an urgent reason. But as there were plenty of high-end designer shoes at home in Dee’s closet that she hadn’t even worn yet, these would be remaining in the store. If she did exceptionally well on a future lesson, they might come back to let her buy them.

When they got home, Dee got her first free moments alone all day. She had to check her implants and massage her breasts with the lotion that was supposed to prevent stretch marks. She still wasn’t used to the strange feeling of getting to second base with herself, and she was glad the anti-libido tea was keeping all this fondling from turning her on. She smiled as she wondered what thirteen-year-old David would say if someone told him some day he’d be able to touch boobs any time he wanted to. He probably wouldn’t even care if you said they’d be attached to him; boobs are boobs.

She wanted a little more support than the shelf bra had provided, so she wrestled her puppies into a sexy black bra and then called down to Kay to see if it was okay for her to change. She agreed but turned it into another exercise, and told her to put together a professional look, as though she’d been working in an office all day. Dee sighed and went to the closet.

A half hour later, a smartly dressed businesswoman came down the stairs. She wore a light periwinkle blue silk blouse under a charcoal grey jacket that matched her knee-length pencil skirt. Just a hint of white lace peeked from under her hem as she crossed the room. Legs sheathed in off-white pantyhose ended in sensible black pumps with a chunky heel. Her hair was pulled back into a bun secured by a pair of decorative black lacquer chopsticks. Shiny black discs hung from her earlobes and a string of matching discs was around her neck. Her makeup was expertly done: flawless foundation, just a dab of blush on the apples of her cheeks, a smooth blending of natural tone eye shadows, a thin tracing of eyeliner, a generous brushing of black mascara highlighted her features perfectly. But the eye was immediately drawn to the strong maroon color on her lips, which perfectly matched the shiny new coat of polish on her nails.

Kay applauded and made her do a catwalk turn to show off the full effect. David had spent so much time immersed in the fashion realm that as a woman she had very good taste and excellent skill at putting an ensemble together. Kay was having a much easier time with this client. Dee looked a little too good to just stay in for the night, so Kay went up to room and got dressed up herself, and they went out to a three-star restaurant like two glamorous executives having a dinner meeting. (Kay couldn’t find a vacancy at a four-star.)

Kay called a cab and told Dee that Claude had bankrolled an expense account for her, so she didn’t need to worry about paying for their meal. Dee was worried, but more about being discovered than about money. They had a little time, so she reviewed the morning’s voice lesson. She still didn’t sound completely authentic, but she had a breathy whisper that was passable.

To continue the theme of the day, Kay made Dee adopt a persona for the evening to see how well it fit. Unfortunately, her decision was that Dee’s partial voice would work best as a sultry temptress, so her assignment was to employ her sexy sashay as a flirt and a tease. Kay would be there to make sure none of her targets went too far, so she told her to try to have fun with it. She undid the top two buttons of Dee’s blouse and said she could start by playing with the taxi driver.

However, their cabbie turned out to be an elderly African-American gentleman who just chuckled when Dee tried to smile and flutter her eyelashes at him. She even tried leaning forward to give him a better view, but it was a dud. When they got to the restaurant, Kay gave her credit for trying but told her to try again with the waiter if they got one.

Even though they were on time, their table wasn’t ready yet, so the hostess had them wait in the bar. Dee tried making eyes at the bartender, as she told him they’d been working all day on a project and she was ready to cut wild. He smiled back and said she was mashing her expressions together; she could either go wild or cut loose. Dee made her best attempt to giggle cutely. The only real satisfaction was when she knew his eyes were glued to her swaying behind when the hostess came to lead them to a table.

Dee tried a few double entendres with the waiter when ordering her appetizer, but he didn’t seem to be noticing no matter how obvious she made her comments about wanting something juicy in her mouth. Kay was struggling to keep from laughing, though. When he had gone, she expressed the opinion that he was just a little too flouncy to be straight. But she said that meant Dee had done an even better job. She was so convincingly female that her oral teases were ineffective on a gay man, and they usually have pretty good trannydar.

Maybe that relaxed her enough, or maybe it was the bottle of Chardonnay they were splitting, but she did get flirty enough to noticeably inhale when the busboy came by to fill their water glasses. It was cute when he spilled a little because his eyes were watching something other than the pitcher. Dee had so much fun she made sure she needed a couple refills.

To go with her dessert, she mistakenly ordered a fancy coffee off the cocktail menu instead of a regular one, and left the restaurant fairly tipsy. This time their cab driver was a buff young Latino, and he chivalrously gave her a hand getting out of the car and walked her up the front steps. She thanked him with a big, wet kiss on the lips and nearly tried inviting him in before Kay stepped in, paid the man, and apologized for her friend.

Later that night, Dee learned that California fusion cuisine does not look nearly as fancy after being partially digested. Despite Kay’s best efforts at preventive remedies, Dee still woke up the next day with a monster headache and a queasy yet hungry stomach. After a very bland breakfast she still wasn’t in the right state of mind for the morning’s lesson, so Kay blended up a special herbal tea for her and sent her to soak in the tub for a couple hours.

By lunchtime the throbbing in her skull had faded, but vague memories came flooding in that filled her with mortifying embarrassment. She told Kay that a flirty, sexy persona was not for her, and she’d want to try a different one the next time. On the plus side, the involuntary washing of her throat in stomach acid seemed to help improve her awareness, and she was finally able to find a feminine pitch. But for the same reason, Kay thought she should take it easy and didn’t have her repeat the day’s voice lesson like she usually had her do.

To keep busy for the rest of the day, Kay gave her some instruction on body language, particularly the language of flirting. She protested that she wasn’t planning on doing a lot of flirting, so this lesson wasn’t really necessary. But Kay insisted that it was an essential part of being female; she needed those elements in her vocabulary of gestures if only to get out of a speeding ticket. Kay led Dee through learning three different ways of crossing her legs, five ways to play with her hair, six things to do with her hands, and four different cute smiles and coquettish ways to move her eyes and look at someone without looking like you’re looking.

Oscar Night by Jennifer Brock When novelist-turned-screenwriter David Fine was first nominated for an Academy Award, he wore a red tuxedo provided by his best friend, fashion designer Claude Marsh. An obnoxious TV presenter told him that if he wanted color he should be in a gown, and he agreed. He's been nominated again, and Claude assembled a whole cabal of people to help David make the ultimate impression in his gown. David's girlfriend, bisexual model Maritza Delgado, was on board with the idea of making him as feminine as possible. To that end, he's had major facial surgery and been implanted with a spectacular pair of breasts. David, or Dee as she's been calling her female self, has been working with his live-in feminine deportment coach Kay Thomas hired by Claude for a couple weeks now, and has been making good progress. In this chapter, our girl Dee practices flirting, and has an interesting naked experience. (Note: to the couple of readers I'd told what was going to happen in this chapter, my muse had different ideas, so I had to postpone that until the next one.)

Part 16
One morning, Kay told Dee to put together an outfit that best represented the “Beverly Hills housewife” look. She thought about it and decided that the key was in the accessories. She found a pair of sunglasses with large, round smoky lenses that went from dark at the top to lighter at the bottom, and thick, white plastic frames with gold accents on the sides. That seemed to fit the uniform for most upper middle class women in Southern California.

To pass as a housewife, she’d need to look married. That would mean wearing a ring on her left hand. She rummaged through her jewelry box for a ring that would fit on the right finger and appear to be a wedding ring or engagement ring, or both. She found a ring with a large oval blue stone in a setting surrounded by little sparkly white ones that seemed like it could do the job. Dee wasn’t sure if it was an actual sapphire and diamonds, or if it was costume; either way would have made sense for Claude to have done when putting together her wardrobe.

There were some earrings in the same style as that ring that would coordinate well with it, but she didn’t think a real housewife would always try to match her wedding/engagement ring. She found a fun pair of retro-looking earrings with dangling squares, circles and triangles in black and white plastic that kind of went with her sunglasses, and a chunky bracelet that kind of went with them.

She decided that she was the kind of housewife that dresses to be noticed, so she selected a bright red dress. It was relatively lightweight cotton, so she wore a full slip beneath it. It was sleeveless, with a low scoop in the front that would have been too embarrassing for her to wear at the beginning of her womanhood, but made her feel sexy at this point. She helped accentuate her cinched-in waist by putting a thick, shiny black belt on top of her dress, and the full skirt made the most of her padded hips.

Dee repainted her finger and toe nails in an attention-seeking fire engine red. Since she had her girdle on, she used its garters and went with stockings instead of pantyhose, in a fairly neutral suntan color. A pair of kitten-heeled black peek-a-boo pumps went on her feet and she picked out a black purse with a nice long shoulder strap.

She styled her hair simply, using a silky white hairband just to get it off her face. With her makeup, she went for a little more of a night look than she would have otherwise, starting with a base of concealer, foundation and powder. She fully lined her eyes in black eyeliner with a thin, crisp line. A liberal coating of black mascara went on her eyelashes and two shades of pink eye shadow were blended on her lids. A hint of blush on her cheeks, and then she finished it off with a bright red longwearing lipstick with a glossy topcoat.

She applied a few spritzes of Notorious in strategic locations and did a twirl before the mirror. Satisfied that she was the right degree of hotness she’d been aiming for, she sashayed down to the living room. Kay was impressed, and said she’d captured that competitive upper middle-class look splendidly. Her only suggestion was that Dee might want to throw a black silk shawl over her shoulders in case there was a nip in the air, but otherwise she could very easily pass amongst the natives as though she were one of them.

Kay said that they’d be going grocery shopping and told Dee to write out a list of what she needed. Normally David just worked from a mental shopping list, but Dee figured that it was just another exercise in feminine penmanship. She checked her pantry for what staples were running low, and planned out what she wanted to cook for the following week and noted which ingredients would be needed.

They got in the car and Kay had Dee drive. She had her choice of going to David’s usual grocery store where things would be familiar, or a new place where she wouldn’t have to be nervous about being recognized or of acting like people should know her. Dee chose the new place, so Kay had her drive out to an upscale market in Sherman Oaks.

The shocker came when Kay asked to be let out at a Starbucks down the street from the grocery, and said that this was to be Dee’s first solo outing. Kay thought that environment should be a comfortable one for her, since she was such a culinary virtuoso. She was to go into the store and not come out until she’d bought everything on her list, but if something went wrong she could call Kay and she could come to save her.

Dee had to take a few deep breaths in the car before she felt comfortable enough to drive on to the market. Her heart was racing and she glanced down and saw that she had the clichéd “heaving bosom,” and that made her chuckle a little. Her two friends down there really were unmistakably female; there was very little chance anyone would be suspecting her secret identity. Calming, she flipped down the sun visor and checked her makeup in the vanity mirror. She smiled and blew a kiss to her smoking hot reflection, then closed the mirror and put the car into drive and pulled out of the parking lot.

At first Dee was a little worried she was overdressed, but then she saw some of the other ladies getting out of their luxury SUV’s, and they had hair that looked fresh from the beauty parlor, and outfits that seemed couture if not at least designer label. And they radiated sex just as much if not more than her. Some of them also had their implants proudly on display, others were showing a lot of leg, and some unwisely chose to show midriff in fashions that would have been more appropriate for girls twenty years younger.

Dee opted to leave her shawl in the car. She felt that it detracted from her look. However, she regretted that decision as soon as she closed the car door. There was indeed a slight chill in the air and she could feel her nipples becoming erect almost immediately. She was sure that they’d be visible through her clothes, an irrational fear for certain since she was wearing a bra with light padding and a full slip under her dress, plus her nipples weren’t as large as a natural woman’s to begin with. But nonetheless, she was sure that everyone in the parking lot could tell she “had her high beams on.”

She wanted to run into the store as fast as possible, but she knew that wouldn’t be appropriate for her female persona. She carefully got her reusable canvas grocery bags from the trunk, and then did a brisk but still sexy sashay over to the market. One of the workers, a teenage boy was just returning a load of carts when she got inside, and he pulled one out of the row for her and even wiped down the handle with his cleaning cloth. She smiled and thanked him, and it took him a few seconds to blink and remember to breathe. Dee was beginning to enjoy all the attention her new shape attracted.

She did feel comfortable and confident in the grocery. Kay was right; it was her element. She knew a use for almost every ingredient in the place, and that made her feel more successful as a woman, ready to feed and nurture her family. She knew what she was talking about when she asked the butcher to cut her some thicker pork chops, (he was a sweet older man who actually flirted back) and she even showed one of the other women shopping in the produce section how to tell if an artichoke is fresh.

Remembering that her doctor had said she wasn’t supposed to raise her arms above her head, Dee had to get a stockboy to help her get a cereal box from the top shelf. When he’d climbed up there, he turned to ask her if he’d gotten the right one and took a serious look down her dress. She moistened her lips a little and hungrily told him that was exactly what she wanted. He nearly fell off, and she noticed that he seemed to have some difficulty walking away. She thought she could see something pushing against the front of his smock, but it might just have been her imagination.

Dee was getting a real kick about being an object of male attraction, and only when consciously thinking about it did a little place inside David’s mind find it disturbing. These lessons in thinking of herself as a woman were working amazingly well. She gave the nice bagger who helped her get her groceries out to her car a peck on the cheek. She laughed at the foolishness of men and wondered if she’d ever been so easily led around by a pair of shapely breasts back when she was a man.

All in all, it was a great experience. She’s gone out in public, alone, and hadn’t felt the slightest bit insecure about being found out. She had been accepted as a woman unquestionably, and it really started her feeling like this whole thing might actually work.

***

Dee’s voice lessons were proceeding nicely. The more feminine she sounded, the more confidence it gave her, and the more comfortable she felt in her persona. Talking to strangers face-to-face, she had the advantage of her extremely female appearance. The various guys who had conversations with her cleavage never imagined that the person they were talking to wasn’t completely a woman.

Kay kicked up the difficulty by having her talk to people over the phone, where she couldn’t assert her femininity by jiggling her big boobs. A couple of times she was mistaken for a young boy, but some work to add a melodic lilt to her tone kept that from happening again. After a couple days working at it, she was consistently called “Ma’am.”

She called Vanessa, who didn’t even recognize her voice. Kay said to ask her for a special cocktail dress; she said that Dee was ready for a major milestone and she needed something special to wear. Vanessa asked if the ban on underwire bras was still in effect, and Dee didn’t know. She had to conference-call Evelyn, who also didn’t know who she was at first, to ask. She said that underwires were still out, because her implants hadn’t settled into their final location, so the bra would be trying to make them curve in the wrong shape. Vanessa asked if a custom underwire made to fit Dee’s breasts exactly would be okay, and Evelyn said it would. Dee then passed the phone to Kay, and she talked to Vanessa about their schedule, and they made a plan to go into the design studio after hours the following evening.

David had visited Claude’s workshop before, but always during regular working hours when the place had been full of people. It was spooky being there at night all alone, almost like a ghost town. Vanessa led them around to a workroom in the back. There was a wooden platform in the middle of the space with holes in it every so often, and some of them had metal pipes coming up out of them. It looked like some strange piece of industrial art.

Vanessa handed Dee a pair of shoes and a folded piece of clothing and directed her to a screen in the corned of the room, telling her, “Take off everything you’re wearing except your earrings and put these on. Even your underwear. Don’t worry; I cleared it with Dr. Coleman that it would be okay for you to go braless for a little while so we could do this.”

The garment turned out to be a silk kimono-style robe, a pretty print of hummingbirds on a black background, with stylish pink ribbon trim. It was very short, and she was grateful to be taped and tucked in place since otherwise things might have been hanging below the hemline. The shoes were strappy sandals with wedge heels that must have been at least five inches high. There was a circular hole through the wedge that almost made it look like a separate heel shoe.

It took a couple minutes for her to find her balance when she stood up from the little stool she’d been sitting on. After a few cautious small steps, she got her rhythm and executed a perfect supermodel strut over to the others. It was a different kind of feeling as her breasts bounced with every step, free from any kind of support.

Vanessa took her hand and had her step up onto the platform. She had her stand with her feet a few inches apart and her arms a little away from her sides. She took some measurements: the distance between her ankles, the height of her elbows from the floor, the length of her forearms, and then sent her off to a bathroom, telling her to go even if she didn’t have to, as it would be her last opportunity to do so for a while. Dee was a little confused but did as she was told.

When she got back, the pipes on the platform had been rearranged. She stepped up and returned to the approximate position she was in before. Now she was standing between two vertical pipes, and there were T-shaped things clamped to of them horizontally halfway up or so. Vanessa showed her that the tops of the T’s, which were padded with some kind of foam and covered in soft fabric, were for her to rest her forearms on. She fiddled with the clamps for a bit to get Dee’s arms into the position she wanted. Then she tied her arms to the boards with some kind of soft rope so she couldn’t move them. It was tight, but not painful.

Then she ran another pipe through the holes in Dee’s shoes. There were spacers like the clamps they use on barbells that kept her feet a fixed distance apart, and then a couple more clamps went on the outside of her feet so they couldn’t move at all. Then that pipe got attached to the uprights, and she was locked in place. It was scary, but kind of exciting being completely secured.

Vanessa explained that in order to make perfectly form-fitting clothes for her, she’d been instructed to make a casting of Dee’s body. She usually would have used a couple of assistants to do this, but since her situation was a Top Secret project, it would take a while. And to get a good mold, Dee would have to stay in position, and that’s why she needed to be attached to the frame. She twisted Dee’s hair up on top of her head and put a hairnet on her.

There was one more thing. She needed to be nude to get the best resolution. Vanessa pulled the ribbons on the sleeves of her robe, and the seams across the top came unlaced and she was naked to the waist. Dee twitched as she instinctively wanted to cover her breasts, but she was helpless. Vanessa untied the robe’s sash and it fell to the floor.

Vanessa let out a little wolf whistle and said she couldn’t get over how sexy a woman Dee had become. She took new measurements at her bust and waist and hips, pulling the tape extra tight. Then she noticed something and went over to her work table. Dee could hear water running, but couldn’t see what was happening.

Vanessa came back over with a few implements on a tray. She said there was one change she’d need to make for the casting to go smoothly. She dipped her washcloth in a bowl of warm water and ran it over Dee’s little pubic patch of hair. After spraying it with shaving gel, she ran a little razor over the area, first down, then up, dipping it in the bowl frequently. It was an extremely intimate act, and Dee was sure she was blushing everywhere.

Vanessa apologized and warned her that she’d be really itchy down there in a couple days, and that she ought to be obsessive about cleansing the skin in her bikini area in order to avoid painful ingrown hairs as they grew back. Dee asked if it would just be easier to keep shaving, but Vanessa told her that the stubble wouldn’t be as scratchy if she got a wax instead. Dee thought about maybe just going back to the laser place and getting it all off, or maybe trimmed a little narrower so she would look better in a smaller thong, or perhaps just get her square turned into a more feminine triangle.

Everything was ready. Vanessa rolled a work cart over, and started by running some metallic tape along the sides of Dee’s body from her underarms to the middle of her thighs. She said this was where the seam in the mold would be. Tape also went across the top of her shoulders and a little way up her neck. Dee blushed again when she ran the last section of tape around the inside of her thighs and across the tape she already had there. At least now all those parts were doubly-safe from popping out.

For the next step, Vanessa asked if Dee had any nut allergies, and she said she didn’t but it seemed like a weird time to ask that kind of question. She then took a spray bottle and started misting her all over with what she explained was peanut oil. This was to keep things from sticking to her too much. She worked it into the tighter crevices with a paintbrush.

Vanessa poured two kinds of stuff into a little pail and stirred it with a wooden spoon and made some blue liquid that kind of looked like paint. She started pouring it onto Dee’s body, covering her in a thin layer of this substance that dried into a kind of rubbery second skin. When Vanessa got to Dee’s nipples, it felt surprisingly good, and she involuntarily let out an embarrassing little moan. When her bucket was empty, Vanessa mixed up another batch and continued until Dee was completely blue from shoulder to mid-thigh.

Vanessa told her to look on the bright side; the casting would be of her whole torso with just a bit of her arms, legs, and neck. Sometimes they had to do the whole model from head to toe. She mixed a second coat thicker, and it was green instead of blue. She said this was so she could make sure she got it everywhere. The second coat also took longer too apply, and she was putting extra amounts in places where the mold would need more support.

The first work cart was rolled away and a different one brought over. Now Vanessa covered the rubber stuff with wet strips of cloth infused with plaster, as though Dee had broken every bone and needed a body cast. She asked if Kay wanted to help, since this part didn’t require as much precision, and she agreed since it looked like fun.

As the plaster strips went around her abdomen, Dee had to breathe more shallowly. She felt like some kind of cross between a mummy and knight encased in solid armor. The plaster gave off heat during its curing process, and she was glad to have the insulating rubber layer underneath.

Finally, after standing there for what felt like days and was probably at least hours, it was time for the mold to come off. Vanessa used a frightening little spinning cutting blade on the end of a rotary tool to cut through the plaster, promising that it couldn’t go through the tape on the bottom so Dee was perfectly safe. She had Kay stand behind Dee and hold the mold against her back while she cut. First she went down the sides, making a wavy line along the edge that she said would help with lining up the sides of the mold.

Then she very carefully cut along the seam between Dee’s legs, and tried to make a joke about offering to turn her female completely while she was down there, but it wasn’t funny even if Kay did laugh way too loudly at it. She finished off by cutting the seam at the top of each of Dee’s shoulders, and had to make sure she was supporting the plaster with one hand while cutting with the other.

As Kay kept the back half in place, Vanessa delicately pulled the front of the mold away from Dee’s body. It was weird to see what half of her body looked like in plaster form. After setting the first half aside, she relieved Kay of her burden and got the other half of the mold. Dee was surprised to be still covered in rubber, but Vanessa said it had to come off in two phases. The plaster was just the structural casing; the rubber stuff was the actual mold.

The cutting saw had marked the rubber, but hadn’t cut it completely, so Vanessa had to use a special knife to go back over the lines. Dee was grateful that she didn’t try to make that joke again when she had a knife close to David’s future children. When she was done cutting, she had to slowly peel the mold off, taking care not to tear it.

If it went wrong, they’d need to make a new mold. Dee really didn’t want to have to go through this process all over again, so she tried to help by staying as still as possible, but when her protective rubber sheath came off she was naked again and really really wanted to cover up. When both the front and back pieces had come off, Vanessa untied her hands and she could put the robe back on. (Its sleeves had been laced up again.)

Her shoes were freed from their harness, and she could finally move again. Her joints were so stiff from standing in place that she needed help walking. Vanessa guided her to a shower area she could use to clean off. She was still pretty wobbly, so Vanessa thought she still needed supporting. She pulled off her t-shirt, unzipped her jeans, and slipped out of her bra and panties faster than it took Dee to realize what was happening. Vanessa just shrugged and said it was only fair; she’d just seen Dee naked, and besides they were both girls.

Vanessa had a great body. Her breasts were not as big as Dee’s, but they were proud and perky and had thick, dark nipples that seemed exotic and mysterious to her. Vanessa’s rear end was magnificent. It was almost heart-shaped. Dee was just glad she’d been taking Kay’s special tea, so all she felt when looking at it was envy. Her narrow hips and flat buttocks just weren’t feminine enough.

She was really glad for the tea when Vanessa started washing her with a special solvent to get the tape off, and it also loosened her regular adhesive tape and Dee’s genitals came untucked. Her penis twitched a little when Vanessa cleaned the adhesive off of it, but fortunately did not become erect. She tried to apologize, but Vanessa just shook her head and said it wasn’t a problem. Dee was sure though that she had revenge on her mind when she was being extra thorough in deeply cleaning the oil and residue out of every crevice.

The hot water combining with the way Vanessa was rubbing her brought Dee’s legs back to life and she was able to stand on her own to finish the shower. Vanessa moved on to bringing feeling back to her arms and she was finally able to hold the soap on her own. She took off her hairnet and leaned back into the water stream, not caring that she’d be washing off her makeup and all she had in her purse were a lipstick and a compact. It just felt too good.

If that kind of pain from standing in place for hours is what models go through every day, she had a newfound respect for Maritza and her friends. That wasn’t a useful train of thought, so she shook her head a few times under the water to try to think about something besides missing her girlfriend. She wasn’t supposed to be thinking about any aspects of David’s previous life. But even behind an impressive bust, Dee’s heart still knew who it loved and wanted to be with more than anything. She figured that maybe if she cried in the shower Kay wouldn’t notice and get mad at her.

Vanessa looked at her funny, but figured it had just been a stressful day and leaned in to give her a hug. Embracing a naked woman without so much as a stirring downstairs was a strange sensation, and she just had to laugh when their boobs smooshed together. The laughter was infectious, and by the time they’d finished and gotten dressed again, it was a pair of giggly schoolgirls that returned to Kay.

Oscar Night by Jennifer Brock Nearly a year ago, Novelist/screenwriter David Fine was nominated for an Academy Award and wore a red suit designed by his friend fashion designer Claude Marsh. Unfortunately, television personality Jane Waters chose to make David's outfit an object of ridicule, and in an attempt to save face he joked that he'd wear a gown if he was nominated again. When he was indeed nominated a year later, Claude seized upon David's defense of his honor and pushed him to embrace the idea of wearing a gown, and his girlfriend bisexual fashion model Maritza Delgado was also keen to make him more feminine. He was talked into severalplastic surgeries on his face and breast implants, and he's been training with live-in feminine deportment coach Kay Thomas, who has renamed him Dee. In this installment, Dee learns a little more about the different kinds of men who dress as women, and where she fits on the scale. Also, the romance is brought back into focus, and Dee starts thinking about dating.

Part 17
Dee really hadn’t been paying attention to the calendar, so it came as quite a surprise when the doorbell rang one morning. She had to check the peephole to see if it was anyone who knew David, but it wasn’t. It was a guy in a uniform holding a large gold box tied with a red ribbon, no one she recognized.

She ran her fingers through her hair, checked her makeup in the mirror by the door and then opened it. The guy cradled the box in his arm and looked at a clipboard. “I have flowers here for a Miss Fine.” He eyed Dee hungrily. “Is that you? You certainly look like a fine miss to me.”

Dee laughed at his little joke. “Yes, that’s me.” He handed the big box to her. “Thank you very much.” She had to dash back inside to grab her purse to give him a tip.

He turned to go and winked at her. “Wish I was the guy you’re really going to be thanking later for those. Happy Valentine’s Day, Miss Oh So Very Fine!”

Oh no! It was Valentine’s Day, and Dee had completely forgotten. She swore at herself and took the box to the table. Inside was a pretty pink envelope inscribed “To Davida from Mauricio,” and a dozen long-stemmed red roses wrapped in tissue paper. They had greenery and baby’s breath, the whole nine yards. It just made her feel bad she hadn’t gotten anything. She got out her best crystal vase and trimmed the stems, then arranged them all nicely and set the vase in the center of the dining table.

Kay came down and asked who was at the door. Dee gestured at the vase like a spokesmodel and showed her the flowers she’d gotten from “her boyfriend.” Kay said they were very nice and asked if there was a card. Dee had been so caught up in getting the roses into water that she hadn’t even opened the envelope. It was sitting over on top of the tissue paper in the empty box, and she stole a glance at it. Kay started moving in that direction, but Dee was faster. She snatched up the envelope and opened it.

There was a whole sheet of stationery in there, a letter not a card. It was printed in a script font from a word processor. She wondered if the florist had typed it. It read:

“My Darling Davida,

It is sad that we must spend our first Valentine’s Day apart, but know My Love that in my heart I am there with you. I hope you are working hard at your lessons since your teacher is being so strinct and keeping us separated. It won’t be too much longer until we can see each other again, so hang in there, Sweetheart!

I wonder if you have had to go out with other men yet. I know it’s not perfect, and since you have my absolute permission maybe you can use them to be close to me. When some other guy is gazing into your eyes, imagine that mine are looking back at you. Pretend that it is my voice whispering sweet nothings in your ear. Make believe that mine are the arms that hold you tight, mine are the fingers that caress you, mine are the lips that kiss you, mine is the tongue that softly suckles at your nipple, and mine is the thick cock that presses into you.

Oh, Baby, I miss you so much! I’m hard just thinking about you — are you wet for me? I think I’m going to have to take matters into my own hands if I’m going to be useful to anyone today. You’d better take a nap the day of your big party, because that night when I get you home alone for the first time, you’re not going to get much sleep! Your sweet pussy will be gasping for air by the time I’m done with you.

It’s only a couple weeks, so I’m sure we can last it. Be a good girl for your teacher and do whatever she tells you to. Don’t do anything too crazy, My Sweet Davida Loca. It’s okay if she makes you give your body to another man; just don’t give anyone else your heart. You belong to me, and don’t you forget that.

Yours forever and always,
Mauricio”

It was a weird letter, but after running it through her head and making all the appropriate substitutions, it left Dee with a warm feeling all over. It was nice to be reminded that someone out there loved her.

Kay gave her a look of disapproval and grabbed the letter out of her hands. “I told you to have no communication with her. It was a nice attempt that she tried to keep it appropriate for your feminine persona, but came across more as an encoded message than a sincere sentiment. I’m sure you had no trouble reading between the lines. This will count as one of the two times you’re allowed to disobey me. You only get one more.”

Dee was hoping she could save up those two times she was allowed to say no to Kay to avoid having to go out on dates with men, something Kay had mentioned would be part of her training, and that had been mentioned repeatedly in this letter. It was almost as if Maritza would be disappointed if Dee didn’t have a date with a man. So let Kay do her worst!

Dee stood up in front of Kay and put her hands on her hips defiantly. “I only get to refuse you one more time, or your lessons stop. And I understand that breaking your rule about contact counts as one of those times. Well, it’s Valentine’s Day, and my Sweetie just sent me some pretty flowers and a nice romantic letter, and I didn’t do anything. So I’m going to cash in my other Get Out of Kay’s Rules Free card, and go call her right now. And I’m well within the terms of our agreement.” Dee crossed her arms under her breasts and stormed out in a huff.

She went upstairs so she could get some privacy to make her call. David’s cell phone had been confiscated, and the cute little replacement phone they’d provided Dee with didn’t have Maritza’s number in her contact list. Fortunately, David had long ago memorized her number, so it was no trouble for Dee to dial her manually.

Wouldn’t you know it? The call went to voicemail. Dee’s one chance to make contact, and she’d blown it. In order for it not to be a total waste, she left a message, “Um, hi Sweetie! You might not recognize my voice. It’s me, Dee, I mean Davida, I guess. I got your flowers and they are gorgeous! Thank you so much for them! We had our own Christmas after Christmas, so maybe we can have our own Valentine’s after Valentine’s, too, and I can show you exactly how much I appreciate my roses. I’m not really looking forward to having a date with some guy, but if you really want me to pretend he’s you, I guess I can get through it for both of us. I love you, I love you, I love you! Oh, and by the way, I love you! You’ll probably be seeing Claude before I do, so could you give him a message? I gave him something to hang onto for me, and I’m going to need it back. Let him know that I’ll want that as soon as possible, preferably the first day I see you again. There’s something I’ve got to talk to you about. I suppose I’ll have to go now. I love you — did I say that already? I really hope it doesn’t feel like forever until I see you again. Bye-bye, Baby! Don’t try to call me back; I won’t be allowed to answer.”

She hung up and just sat there sulking at her bad luck. On the plus side, she had pretty flowers from someone who loved her very much. On the minus, she now couldn’t refuse anything Kay asked, and she was going to have to date men soon.

Just to make matters worse, Kay came up holding the letter. “This reminds me, I haven’t done anything about arranging an evening out for you with a gentleman escort. I think we’ll set that up for next week, okay?” All Dee could do was to nod her acceptance.

***

A few days after making Dee’s body casting, Vanessa came by in the morning bearing a garment bag with new clothes for Dee. There were a number of custom-made underwire bras with matching panties, as well as a handful of new dresses. One of them was the special cocktail dress she’d need for the occasion that evening that Kay still hadn’t divulged.

She had to wear special lingerie before she could try her dress on. First there was a special pair of black satin panties with special silicone padding in the hips and behind designed to fit her exact shape. It gave her a very sexy rear view. Snaps in the crotch let her use the bathroom without taking them off completely, which was necessary since they were so tight.

They had a high waist that came up to the bottom of her ribcage. Vanessa pulled on some strings in the back and showed her that it laced up like a corset and pulled her waist tight. She now had a perfect hourglass figure that was definitely worth the discomfort.

On top, she wore her first underwire. It was a black strapless longline, which meant it had much more band than usual in front beneath the cups and a thinner band at the bottom in the back considerably lower than a bra’s band usually sits. The cups were form-fitting but only covered her breasts to only slightly above her nipples, leaving much of the top and inner surface of each one bare. In between the cups the bra wire dipped down, to reveal the most cleavage she’d ever shown.

She had Dee pull sheer black crotchless pantyhose up her legs and put her feet into sexy black stiletto pumps. Then the gorgeous black cocktail dress came down over her head. From the front, it almost looked like a regular sleeveless dress, with triangles over the breasts that went up to become straps over the shoulders. The neckline did have a fairly wide and deeply plunging V, and the diagonal hem came above her knee on the right side to mid-calf on the left, but otherwise it could have been just another little black dress.

However, in the back those shoulder straps split into six thin spaghetti strands each, which radiated out and criss-crossed each other all the was down to her waist, making the dress virtually backless. Dee was overwhelmed by how it looked in the full-length mirror It was glamorous and maybe a little too sexy. She feared this was how Kay would be sending her to go meet some man, and it would send entirely the wrong message.

Kay wouldn’t get more specific, but she calmed her down by saying that the dress was for an evening they’d be spending together. Date night was still nearly a week away. Vanessa double-checked everywhere and declared the fit perfect. She stuck around to help her out of the outfit, and show Kay how tight to pull the lacings on her waist cincher.

Dee changed back into her casual outfit, but only got to stay in it until just after lunch. A man in a chauffeur’s uniform came to the door and said the car was ready. Outside was a big black luxury van, not at all what Dee would have expected. Kay handed the man their two garment bags and he hung them up in the back of the car, and then gave each of the ladies a hand climbing in.

Their first stop was a familiar one, Tom & Jeffy’s. It felt different to be coming to the salon in the daytime, while there were other customers. For the first time in a long while, Dee felt like a trespasser in the land of women, and wondered what the other beauty clients would say if they knew there was an interloper in their midst.

Kay gave her name to the girl at the counter, and they sat in the waiting area for a few seconds before Jeffrey saw them and came over to give them each an air kiss hello. He pointed at some kind of code in the appointment book, and gave the receptionist a tongue lashing for not telling him immediately when the VIP clients arrived.

They were taken in different directions. Dee didn’t know where Kay was going. Her own treatment started with a soothing facial that wasn’t as harsh as the last one she’d had, just more of a facial massage and a wet cleansing. It was one feminine treatment that was always enjoyable. It was her first since her surgeries, and she somehow seemed more aware of all the little changes to her features since her last facial. It made her feel more like she belonged there.

After that, this cute little blonde nothing of a girl took her hands and gave her a manicure and pedicure, rubbing soothing lotion into her hands and feet, and smoothing out all the rough spots. Jeffrey came by to help pick out a color. He said he’d seen what she’d be wearing, and recommended a deep wine shade that would work well with a shimmering topcoat. He was getting so involved in the description that he shooed Blondie away and did her nails himself. Needless to say, he did a flawless job and expertly made all ten fingers and toes sparkle divinely.

Jeffrey brought her out to Tomas, for more air kisses and a seat at a styling chair. He said that her color and set were holding up well, so all she was in for was a new arrangement and maybe a little trimming. He brushed and combed Dee’s hair back and gathered a low ponytail, then twisted it around into a chignon, and pinned it in place with some really pretty hairpins decorated with twinkly crystals on the end. When he was all done, he held up a mirror so she could see the back. It looked elegant but simple.

Dee was then led to another area, where Jeffrey did amazing things with her makeup. She’d gotten pretty competent at doing her own, but seeing what a pro could do showed she had a long way to go. Her foundation was flawless porcelain; she had cheekbones that appeared out of nowhere; her lips were full and plumper than ever and glistened wetly. But most noticeable were her eyes, which appeared three sizes larger outlined in jet black with long, plush lashes and with seductively smoky eye shadow on her lids. He’d plucked a few stray hairs and darkened her brows into delicately arched teardrops. She had to blink a few fluttery times before she could believe the image in the mirror was actually her.

She was brought around to a dressing room to change out of the smock they’d put her in, but she had to wait for Kay to help her get into her new clothes. She did as much as she could alone, which meant getting into her bra and panties. But she couldn’t do up the laces, so she sat in the little chair and hoped it wouldn’t be long.

Eventually Kay came in, and at first Dee thought it was someone in the wrong room and she got embarrassed and tried to cover herself. But it was Kay. They’d worked their magic on her, too. Her hair was looking a little blonder, and had been cut into a new medium-length asymmetrical pixie shag. Her makeup made her look years younger, and Dee had never before realized how blue her eyes were. They exchanged expressions of “Wow! You look incredible.”

Since Dee had started dressing, Kay decided to help her finish first. She pulled the laces way tighter than it seemed like then been before and tied them off. Dee worked herself into her hose and shoes and then Kay helped her carefully pull her dress over her head and zipped it up for her in back. Dee’s jewelry for the evening was a pair of rhinestone waterfall earrings and a matching triple-strand necklace.

Then it was Kay’s turn. She took off her smock and started removing her underwear. Dee tried to leave, but Kay told her to stay; she’d need to get zipped up, too. And she said that it would be strange for two women to share a dressing room and one to leave first. Dee just tried not to notice that Kay actually had a very decent body, even though she kept in covered up most of the time. And it was amplified by the lingerie she was changing into, a pair of tiny thong panties and a strapless bra that plunged just as much as Dee’s. She rolled on a pair of sheer stay-up stockings with black seams down the back and forced Dee to check out her legs to make sure they were straight. She was once again really grateful for the magic herbal tea that had killed her libido.

Kay’s dress was a little more modest than Dee’s. It was strapless, but didn’t plunge as low as hers, and only left her shoulders bare in back. It was a deep blue color that echoed her eyes, and had a slight metallic sheen that glimmered when she moved in it. She had some nice silver filigree earrings and a coordinating pendant perched in her cleavage.

They packed up the clothes they’d come in into the garment bag, and transferred the essentials from their larger handbags to more fashionable clutches and they were ready to go. They stepped out and Jeffrey made them do a twirl so he could get the full effect. He did a little hop and clapped his hands, and then the whole staff applauded. Tomas came over and looked at them critically. He adjusted the knot in the scarf on Kay’s shoulders so it hung differently. Then he loosened a couple of Dee’s hairpins and let some tendrils of hair escape from her bun, and he pulled out a cordless curling iron and turned them into interesting ringlets. It did improve her look; she thanked him with a light kiss on the cheek.

Their driver came and took the bag then brought them out to the car. Dee wasn’t sure if he’d been waiting in the parking lot the whole time or if he’d gone somewhere and then came back. Their next stop was the Four Seasons Hotel, which was confusing to Dee until Kay explained that they’d be dining in their restaurant. They pulled up to the entrance and the driver assisted the ladies in getting out of the van, and he talked with Kay about when she’d need him to come back.

The two lovelies in their cocktail dresses turned a few heads as they crossed the lobby to the restaurant. Some wondered if they were “working girls.” Kay gave her name to the hostess and asked if any of the rest of her party had already arrived, and she said they all had. She led them to a large table where four women were sitting.

At least they had been sitting. When the pair got to the table, the others stood up. There were a lot of voices at once, some squeals and hugs (with the faces leaning away so their makeup didn’t smear) over how good Kay looked. Dee even got a hug from one of the women, who turned out to be Jackie the cupcake baker. In an elegant green dress with her hair down and nighttime makeup, she didn’t recognize her at first. She told Dee she looked amazing.

Then it was time for Kay to make the rest of the introductions, and explain what was going on. She had a tradition of bringing a group of her former students together to meet each new one, and ladies were there to meet Dee, share their stories, and also provide one of the most critical eyes into her performance. They’d be watching out for any slip-ups, and provide pointers if she did something in a manner that was less feminine than it could be.

Next to Jackie was a more slenderly built brunette in a lovely burgundy dress. It was sleeveless with a square neckline that revealed just a hint of cleavage at the top, and a full skirt that was nearly ankle-length. Kay introduced her as “MJ,” and she delicately shook Dee’s hand, softly grabbing just her fingers.

Kay got the next one’s name wrong. She started to introduce her as “Elle,” but she interrupted. “As of last month, I’m Olivia. It’s legally certified and everything.” She was smiling broadly. Everyone congratulated her. She was taller than Dee, with a less generous figure, but the chocolate brown dress she wore helped to minimize her flaws. It had a contrasting pale tan band around the high waist that made her bust look bigger and her waist smaller, and the little cap sleeves made her wider shoulders less noticeable.

The last member of their group was loud. Bette’s thick body was squeezed into a bright red dress with a sweetheart neckline that teased without exposing anything of her breasts, which were roughly the size of Dee’s, but below her chest her body just looked a bit like a sausage in the tight dress. It was slit to mid-thigh on the left side, and her stocking tops were occasionally visible. She spoke in a loud, throaty voice and wore a very obvious wig that was nearly the color of her dress.

Kay told them all not to worry about prices, since Dee had a “Sugar Daddy” who was bankrolling her transition, and their evening would be covered. Dee didn’t really want to think of Claude that way, as it suggested he had sexual plans for her, but it made a convenient cover story, especially when they asked for details like where she bought her dress, or when they complimented her face and she said she’d gotten surgery but couldn’t say how expensive it was.

It came up because Olivia was curious about getting a similar procedure done — she did recognize the name of Dr. Coleman as one of the top guys in the area. Dee also had to blush when she admitted to getting implants, but she felt the need to reassure them that she hadn’t yet had any major surgery below the belt, and her mind wondered where that “yet” had come from.

She felt sorry that Olivia couldn’t afford the surgeries that she’d gotten on little more than a whim. She imagined that it must be horrible to be a woman stuck in a mannish body, and couldn’t decide whether she considered herself a man stuck in a womanish body, or a man happily gifted with a womanish body, or even a new woman determined to keep her remaining mannish parts. At any rate, it wasn’t fair that someone like her could pass so easily while someone like Olivia couldn’t.

Bette couldn’t pass either, but it didn’t seem like she cared. She kept staring at Dee’s chest. It was very off-putting. She also had a very dirty sense of humor. During their appetizer, she commented with a leer at Dee, “This dumpling is delicious, but I bet you’d taste even better! How about we sneak off to the ladies’ room and suck each other off?” Dee nearly choked on her wine and turned beet red, trying to politely decline the offer. Bette said she was only kidding, but then added with a wink that it didn’t mean she wouldn’t be interested if Dee was keen on the idea.

MJ apologized for Bette and wanted Dee to know that all part-time girls weren’t like her. MJ was so feminine that it was a surprise to learn that she lived most of the time as a male. She hadn’t even had any surgeries or taken any hormones. She had a family, and her wife (or should that be his wife?) knew about her need to express herself as a female, but was only accepting to a degree. She wasn’t allowed to be a woman in front of the kids, or to say anything about it until they were older. The wife was okay with talking to her as a woman, and they even occasionally had a “Girls Day” of lunch or a movie or getting pedicures, but she was expected to turn back into a man before getting into bed. She spoke longingly of the silky nightgowns she got to wear whenever the wife went out of town. It wasn’t a lifestyle that Dee would have chosen, but it seemed to work for MJ.

Bette didn’t have a wife, but she only dressed as a woman for fun, (and it also seemed to give her some kind of sexual thrill) and spent most of her time in “guy mode” as she called it. She said that it was too much hassle spending two hours shaving her complete body every time she wanted to be pretty, and the days of being stubbly all over that would follow were unbearable. Dee couldn’t really relate to the first part since she’d been lasered smooth nearly everywhere, but she had been recently experiencing itchy stubble every couple of days, as she’d been shaving her bikini area ever since Vanessa had done it for her bodycasting.

They chatted with Dee about her training, seeing how it was going. There were some questions that were a little uncomfortable, like when Olivia wanted to know when Dee first realized she was a girl. Dee didn’t want to admit that she still wasn’t quite sure whether she was one or not, so she twisted the truth a little and said that she’d never really felt like one of the guys, and had been more into cooking and taking care of her grandmother, and only recently someone (the guy Kay called her “Sugar Daddy”) pointed out that she would make a good woman, and she tried dressing up a little and really liked it. She claimed that she’d never been the type to do things halfway, so she threw caution to the wind and immersed herself in femininity as completely as possible. Kay just nodded as though she’d heard the story before.

Everyone was enjoying a glass of wine except Jackie, who stuck to water. She tried just smiling enigmatically, but after they gave her funny looks she took out her wallet and showed a picture of the cutest little baby! She explained that they’d decided that it was time, and using some sperm frozen from before her operation, her wife had a beautiful baby boy, and they were sharing the duties of nursing him. So she had to remain alcohol-free. She was congratulated by everyone at the table, and they all gushed over her. Dee was really confused, but didn’t think it would be polite to ask. Jackie had a wife when she was a man, who stayed with her when she became a woman? So, Jackie’s wife must be bisexual, like Maritza. Dee had so many questions she wished she could ask. If Jackie was married to a woman, why did she get the operation? She was a man who wanted to be a lesbian — wouldn’t the sex have been better back when their parts fit together?

Another odd moment came when MJ asked her what she liked the best about being a girl so far. That was a tough one, so she tried to laugh it off and say she liked the way that big boobs gave her power over the small minds of men. They all had a chuckle over that one, and the conversation somehow segued into talking about men. They found out from Kay that Dee hadn’t had her dating lessons yet, so they all began to reminisce about the time they each had their lesson.

Bette asked Kay, “Are you going to send her out with one of your usual escorts? Which one? Travis, I hope.” She got a dreamy look in her eye when she said his name.

Dee was curious. “What’s good about him?”

Olivia chimed in. “He’s got gorgeous brown eyes, and incredible shoulders. Your basic ‘Tall, dark and handsome.’ The complete package.” She had a bit of a twinkle in her eye.

Bette added, “Speaking of packages, you left out the best part. He is hung like a Clydesdale.” She fanned her face with her hand. “You see that monster coming at you and you think it’s going to split you in half, but once it’s inside you, oh my God, does he know how to use it!” She placed a hand over her heart, closed her eyes and exhaled, reliving a memory.

Dee thought Bette was just being over-the-top again, but a couple of the others were nodding and agreeing with her. She felt herself starting to panic. No way did she want sex with some guy!

Kay saw her look and responded. “I think I’ll probably go with Joe for her. He’s a little more her speed.”

Dee nervously asked what Joe was like, and MJ said, “He’s tall and handsome, but not dark, with tawny blond hair and sharp gray eyes. He’s strong and muscular, but not built like a linebacker, so he doesn’t seem so dangerous. He’s a great dancer. I think you’d like him.”

Dee was confused. “I thought you said you have a wife. She lets you have sex with guys?”

MJ laughed, “Sweetie, the dating lesson isn’t about sex; it’s about having a man treat you like a lady, proving that chivalry isn’t dead for everyone. There’s nothing better at making you feel like a complete woman than having a lovely man lead you on the dance floor. If at the end of the date you want to reward him with the most feminine action you can perform, that’s up to you.”

Kay agreed. “Dee, the men I hire for my students dates are not gigolos. They’re simply hired escorts, and none of the services they’re paid for are sexual, so just relax. It’s not for another week or so anyway.”

They finished their meal and a second bottle of wine, and split some yummy desserts, and Dee thought the evening was over and she was ready to say good night to them all. But it turns out that it was just beginning. It also explained the luxury van. When they returned to the car, all six of them got in. It was a little cozy, but the air of pleasant camaraderie continued from dinner. Kay gave the driver an address and they drove off.

They went to a part of the city Dee was unfamiliar with, and pulled into the parking lot for some kind of industrial building repurposed as a night club. The large pink neon sign declared the place to be called “LADYWOOD.” The driver turned his head around and asked if Kay was sure this was where she wanted to go; it was some kind of gay place. Kay smiled widely and assured him that it was exactly the right place.

Dee could actually tell how quickly his brain was putting things together, as he looked over the group of women and noticed that none of them was what could be called complete, and maybe he noticed something less than feminine about Bette or Olivia, and he physically shuddered when it all came together. Kay seemed to notice, too. She made sure that the driver would be returning when scheduled, and told him she’d much rather give him a large tip at the end of the evening than have to complain to the company. He got the message and even held the door to assist them all stepping out of the van.

Bette couldn’t resist and had to tease him on her way out. “You’ve probably already guessed that not all of us have vaginas, but the ones without aren’t the ones you’d suspect!” He didn’t have much of a response to that. She kissed him on the cheek and did a surprisingly perfect sashay from the van to join her companions. Kay gave her a reprimanding look, but Bette just shrugged and said, “At least I said ‘vaginas.’” The group erupted in giggles.

Kay explained that they were at a drag club, a place where men dress as women to entertain. Besides just being an appropriate place for this group to go for fun, she also wanted Dee to see the other side of the coin, as it were. The others she had met so far were men becoming women, but inside the club were men pretending to be women. Dee didn’t quite understand the distinction, but she went in with an open mind.

The bouncer at the door was a huge, muscled, well-tanned Latino with bright pink lipstick that matched his taffeta ballgown. He seemed to recognize Kay, and gave her a warm hug. He said they were on the list, and waived the cover charge. Inside, they were escorted to a table by a “hostess” dressed like a geisha, in stark white makeup, gigantic fake eyelashes, an extra-short pink kimono that revealed miles of leg, and high-heeled sandals. The table was semi-circular and they sat around the curved side. The straight edge was pointed at the stage at one end of the room.

The waitstaff were all dressed as over-the-top female sexual stereotypes. Besides the geisha, Dee saw a French maid, a cheerleader, a naughty schoolgirl, and a leather-clad dominatrix roving about the room. Their own waiter was dressed in a familiar uniform of a white tank top and orange hot-pants, only instead of an owl the overstuffed top was emblazoned with a different bird, and the name of a fake restaurant called “Peckers,” and a nametag over the left giant breast was appropriately labeled “Booby.” His makeup was overdone, with more fake eyelashes, retro blue eyeshadow and glittery pink lips. The canary-yellow wig was in a feathered hairstyle, and the eyebrows tweezed down to nearly nothing.

In a voice that was more that of an effeminate male than a female he said, “Hi! I’m Bobby and I’ll be your server for this evening. What can I get you ladies?” Bette ordered a glass of whatever light beer was on tap, Olivia wanted a white Russian, Jackie had a Virgin Cosmo, MJ asked for a vodka tonic, Kay went with a martini, and Dee wasn’t much of a drinker so she just ordered a white wine. Bobby wrote their order down and sexily wiggled off to the bar.

Dee made a major faux pas and remarked, “He looks really good. That’s a very impressive tuck, even in those little shorts. No lumps at all down there.” Kay corrected her that it was bad form to use “He.” She should always refer to people with the pronouns that match the gender they are presenting as, even if you know their biological gender might contradict that. It’s rude to do otherwise. The exception was with butch lesbians. If you see someone who seems female but presents as male, but you don’t know for certain that he’s a female-to-male transsexual, refer to her as female. Although really Dee should try to steer clear of those types, since militant feminists sometimes feel very negatively toward transsexuals of either variety.

Bobby brought their drinks and a basket of complimentary pink French fries. They were strange and a little too salty for Dee’s taste so she didn’t eat too many. Bette made many rude gestures with them. Bobby asked if there was anything else they needed before the show started; she’d only be able to come back between acts. Bette talked Kay into going ahead and having her bring another round, so they’d be ready as soon as their glasses were empty. They’d had so much wine with dinner that Dee was starting to worry that maybe they’d end up getting drunk, and she really didn’t want to lose control in public, especially in a dress that was so revealing. She concentrated on trying to remain feminine.

The show opened with a big dance number by a bunch of boys dressed like Vegas showgirls with huge feathered headdresses and tiny outfits that were well designed to cover only the areas that needed padding. They did some fancy choreography to a reworked “Hooray for Ladywood” song, and at the end they formed two rows and the MC emerged from between them. She was an older drag queen, in an auburn wig and a blue evening gown covered in sparkly crystals with a panel at the top that was made to look sheer but probably wasn’t. She stepped forward and the curtain closed behind her.

She introduced herself as “Jewel Tucker” and apologized that her partner hadn’t shown up for the show. She worked the crowd and told a few easy jokes and then music started up and she broke into song, but something seemed off. Dee realized that she had a different voice when singing, and sounded almost exactly like Doris Day. Dee asked about it during the break, and learned that she’d been lipsynching to a record and not actually singing. Apparently that’s what a lot of drag acts did.

After the break, Jewel’s partner, a tall black performer in a slinky red dress, who called herself “Heidi Johnson,” came out and apologized for being late. That segued into a whole comedy routine about how she wasn’t just late, she was also “late,” and she really didn’t want to have to deal with getting another abortion. So she was so grateful when finally while she was just backstage her Aunt Flo came to town, but it was really heavy this time so it took her a while to come out. She went with the red dress instead of the white one she’d bee planning to wear, just in case.

The audience was laughing hysterically at all this, but Dee didn’t quite understand. Kay had just stressed that you’re supposed to treat someone presenting as female as a legitimate woman, but the humor in Heidi’s act all seem to come from the fact that the audience knew she wasn’t really one. It didn’t make sense to laugh at her for being less than real, but since she was encouraging them she supposed it wasn’t too cruel.

Dee figured out that this was probably the real lesson Kay wanted her to learn: Dee would be in much the same position as Heidi when she made her public entrance, since the whole point was that everyone would know she was really David. The danger was that she’d be just as much of a laughing stock. She needed to seriously consider how she was going to behave on the Red Carpet. Would Dee act completely feminine and try to confuse Jane Waters, or would David wink and “let her in on the joke?” It was heavy stuff, and would take some thinking.

During the next break, Dee went to the ladies’ room. Bette got up too, which made Dee worried that she was going to try something. Fortunately, Jackie and Kay came along as well. There was a little bit of a line, but not much. This was the first women’s restroom Dee had ever seen that had urinals as well as stalls, and some of them were even in use. But that didn’t seem right to her; she waited for a stall. Bette went to the urinals, but Dee didn’t look. She washed her hands and checked her makeup in the long mirror while she waited for her friends. There was a wide array of women of all genders standing with her, and she casually looked around and confidently declared herself to be definitely more believable than most cross-dressers, but perhaps that was because she’d become something more.

There were some more lip-synched musical numbers and jokes, and the dancers came back a couple times, and then it was time for the final performer, “Amanda Skies.” She had a decently augmented figure, in a purple sleeveless gown that was cut so modestly that Dee couldn’t tell if her curves came from padding or implants or hormones. She had long brown hair cascading down her shoulders, and her makeup didn’t seem quite as extreme as the others.

The music started and she began her song, a cover of “What a Girl Wants,” but it was sung in more of a contralto range. Dee couldn’t figure out why she wouldn’t just use the original version of the song, until the ululating part near the end, when it became clear that Amanda was actually singing herself, and doing so with a voice that sounded authentically female. The audience gave her a well-earned standing ovation. She did an encore of “If I Was Your Woman,” a song Dee wasn’t that familiar with. The curtain opened behind her and the dancers gyrated sexily to the music, and Jewel and Heidi mouthed along with the pre-recorded backup singers. It was a perfect finale to the evening.

Kay paid their tab and left Bobby a big tip, and then rang the driver on her phone to make sure he was ready. The ladies, some quite drunk all got back into the van. Bette, MJ, and Olivia were going back to the hotel where they’d met. Dee said it was nice to meet them and she’d get their contact info from Kay and call or email them, but she’d be really busy for the next couple of weeks. They dropped Jackie at her home, which was an apartment above the bakery. She said the baby was about due for a feeding, so she’d try to get to him before he woke his mother. Dee gave her a little hug on her way out.

By the time they got home, Dee was exhausted. She just wanted to collapse into bed, nearly forgetting that Kay had to help her out of her clothes. They unzipped each other, and she got Dee’s corset unlaced and she could finally breathe again. There were red marks all around her waist from the boning. She headed off for the shower, but Kay reminded her to take her makeup off first. Sometimes it was very complicated being a woman.

In the shower, Dee took off her tape and let little David out. She stood there, female from the waist up and male from the waist down (if you ignore the hairlessness and toenail polish), trying to figure out who he or she really was. There was less than two weeks until the Awards, and it was starting to feel more real and less like a game. She slipped into her silk nightgown and hoped the answers would come in a dream.

Oscar Night by Jennifer Brock Last year, Novelist/screenwriter David fine wore a red suit to the Academy Awards and made a joke about wearing a gown the next year. Somehow his friend clothing designer Claude Marsh and his bisexual fashion model girlfriend Maritza Delgado convinced him that the best way to make a good impression in a gown would be to present himself as convincingly female. David even agreed to get a number of surgeries, including an impressive set of breast implants. Claude hired "Feminine Deportment Coach" Kay Thomas to teach David, now known purely by the intial "Dee," how to become a woman. Dee's gone through a number of lessons, but it's now time for the one she's been dreading - Kay is making her go on a date with a man.

Part 18
Somehow, bad news always seems to travel in packs. On the same morning that Kay told Dee that everything was arranged for her date with a man on the coming Thursday night, Vanessa came over and said that Claude had finalized the design of her gown for the Academy Awards, and it required her figure to have a strongly defined waist. It required her to undergo corset training, and wear one all the time until then. It wasn’t enough just to put one on the night of the event; constant corseting would let them pull it tighter, and give her dress “the best line,” whatever that means.

She wanted to start Dee’s training right away, so they went upstairs and she had to strip down to her panties. Dee felt very self-conscious, and tried to cross her arms to cover her breasts, but Vanessa wouldn’t let her. She held open a white cotton corset she’d brought with her and had Dee step into it, then Vanessa pulled it up. It went all the way from just under her breasts, where it swept below them in a curve like an underwire, to halfway down her hips. It was fortunate that Dee had worn low-rise panties, since they’d otherwise have to come off.

Vanessa began tightening the laces, and she had Dee lean forward and hang onto the footboard of her bed. She got it to a point and tied it off, giving Dee a few minutes to get used to the constricted breathing. But then she had her give a big exhale, and pulled it even tighter. She then wrapped a measuring tape around Dee’s waist and said that she was at 29 inches, and the goal was to get her to 26 in the next ten days. Dee could barely breathe as it was, and couldn’t imagine there were another three inches of space her internal organs could get squashed into, but Vanessa was the fashion expert, so she had to trust that she knew what she was talking about.

Vanessa checked to make sure she wasn’t getting dizzy, and then helped her get dressed. Dee got to wear a pretty pink bra that only partially covered her breasts and amplified her cleavage a little. Her corset had tabs to attach garters, so Vanessa hooked some on and ran them under her panties, then rolled a sheer pair of silky stockings up her legs and clipped them to the garters. She buckled Dee’s feet into brown leather gladiator sandals with 3-inch heels and had her stand up. A clingy wrap dress in a sort of sunset-orange color went on next, and it showed off Dee’s assets nicely.

She accessorized it with a belt that accentuated her shrunken waist, and a tribal-looking necklace and earrings made of carved wooden and faux ivory beads. Kay told her to do her makeup for a “daytime glamorous” look, and she settled on powder without foundation, a coral lipstick and shimmery earth toned eyes with heavy mascara but no eyeliner, and just a hint of blush. She teased her hair up a little and spritzed on her favorite scent.

Kay had her practice all her walks again, to see how the corset impacted her movements. It seemed to help her posture on the glide, but she had to shorten her stride for the strut and it took a lot of practice to get the wiggle back into her hips for the sashay. Vanessa was impressed with how natural Dee moved in heels, and asked if she’d be interested in taking up modeling after this was all over.

Dee laughed at the idea and did agree that she’d been to enough fashion shows that she could probably handle herself on the runway, but it wasn’t something she was interested in at all. Despite the fact that they’d been working for a month to turn her into a major spectacle, she really wasn’t that comfortable being the focus of attention from strangers. Besides that, she figured that all the corsets in the world wouldn’t be enough to squeeze her down into the tiny sizes that models wear.

Vanessa said that wasn’t a good excuse, since she knew specialty plus-size models with thicker figures than Dee’s, but sensed her unease at the idea. She closed the topic by planting the seed of an idea in Dee’s head, that if she found out when all the excitement from her unveiling had died down that she liked the spotlight after all, Vanessa was sure that Claude would gladly feature Dee in a show.

After a lunch that Dee had to eat even slower and in tinier bites than ever due to her corset, Kay ran her through some more voice practice, to show her that the added note of breathiness caused by her restriction actually made her voice seem more sexily feminine. Dee felt confident that no one could possibly suspect her true identity unless she told them.

Vanessa left and told Kay to call her if she needed any help getting Dee unlaced. She said that ideally they’d want her to sleep in the corset, and Kay could loosen it an inch at bedtime, but she’d have to tighten it again in the morning, preferably even smaller than the day before. Dee would be allowed to take it off for bathing, but it would need to go right back again afterwards. And she really should wait at least twenty-four hours before taking her first bath break. Dee hoped she wouldn’t be too bruised when it was all over.

In the afternoon, Kay said that her big date would consist of dinner and dancing, and so she had enrolled Dee in a crash course in ballroom dancing. For the next four days, she’d be learning the basics, not all the fancy tricks the competitors on those dancing shows do, but it would be enough to properly handle herself on the dance floor.

Dee complained that the corset would make it difficult to properly move, but Kay pointed out that all the ladies wore corsets under their ballgowns back in the age when ballroom dancing was invented, so it’s almost as if the woman’s movements in a waltz were designed to be done wearing one. She had to agree that it made sense.

Dee threw some essentials in a tooled leather handbag and grabbed a red pashmina shawl to wrap around her shoulders if a chill came on in the evening air, and they drove off to the dance studio.

Back when he was in college, a girlfriend convinced David to take a class in ballroom dancing, but Dee really didn’t remember much. That was probably a good thing, since she’d be learning the other part, and disaster could ensue if she were to suddenly try to take the lead instead of following her partner.

There were about a dozen people in the class, mostly couples (and you could tell by looking that most of the men weren’t there willingly) but a few singles. The instructor told them to get into pairs. One guy started walking toward her, but she got the sense that he was kind of slimy, and the way he ran his eyes down her body was just gross.

Dee turned and approached a nervous man standing toward the back of the room. He was slightly built but tall, in her heels her eyes were just a little below his, which were an interesting shade of bluish gray. He had wavy sandy brown hair that was probably a little overdue for a trim, and a roguish stubbly beard along his jawline. He wore a blue striped button-up shirt and a well-worn pair of blue jeans, with black loafers on his feet.

She held out her hand and said, “Hi, I’m Dee. Do you have a dance partner yet?” He shook her hand, introducing himself as Jack, and said he’d be happy to dance with her. He warned her that he didn’t really know what he was doing, so if he stepped on her toes she had his permission to go find another partner. She laughed and said she didn’t know what she was doing either, and she had spikes on her feet, so maybe he was the one who should be worried. He looked down ostensibly to look at her shoes, but she caught him checking out her legs and he blushed a little. It was cute.

They started the class by just walking in rhythm, facing their partners, but around six feet apart; no one’s toes were in any jeopardy. Dee had worried that she’d be going backward the whole time, but that wasn’t the case. The men started by stepping toward the women, and the women started by stepping back, but then they stepped to the left and the women went forward, and then stepped to the right to start again back where they started.

It was really pretty easy. Once they had the pattern down they had to do it facing their partners, with their hands touching palm to palm. When lined up, the man’s feet weren’t pointed straight at the woman’s, but parallel to them, so even if he stepped forward before she went back, he wouldn’t be stepping on her feet anyway. Jack and Dee had nothing to worry about.

Once they had that pattern down, they had to get into the real dance position. He held her right hand in his left, and placed his right hand on her back. She felt a little shiver as his fingers touched her bare skin. Her left arm got to rest on top of his. They had to go through the pattern again. The tricky part was that they needed to do it without watching their feet. They were supposed to smile and look at their partner’s face.

Jack seemed to have a particularly hard time not looking down, so Dee tried helping him out. She made a half-smile and teased him. “Are you really breaking eye contact to check your feet, or are you just trying to sneak a look down my dress?” He realized that he truly was getting an eyeful of her cleavage every time he looked down, so he became very embarrassed, and tried to stammer an apology. But she couldn’t hold a serious face to feign being offended, and soon they were laughing together.

By the time class was over, they were not only doing the foxtrot like they knew what they were doing, but they felt like old friends. She thanked him for making the class bearable, and he corrected her and said that she was the one who had been so wonderful at putting him at ease. She promised to look for him in the next session, and went to find Kay for her ride home.

It felt wrong not to bathe after all that exercise dancing, but Dee was a good girl and did as she was told. Kay let her laces out a little, and gave her a hand dressing for bed in her sleeping bra and one of her nightgowns that buttoned up in the front. Sleeping in a corset gave a new definition to the word “uncomfortable.” It reminded her of when she first came out of surgery and had to sleep perfectly flat on her back or her boobs would complain. She just had to get used to not breathing so deeply when trying to relax. She finally broke down and took one of the pills they’d given her for sleeping during her recovery and that did the trick.

Kay found her as soon as she woke up the next morning, and made her grab the bed so she could tighten her corset. She had to take three strong breaths, and on the third exhale, Kay pulled. It felt even tighter than the day before, and she needed to take a moment to let things adjust. She went into her bathroom and gave her exposed parts a spongebath with a damp washcloth and a little soap, just to not feel so gross.

Her outfit for the day started with a pretty white bra and panty set, then a pair of suntan pantyhose. Dee covered up her bra with a white lacy camisole which would look nice under the sheer white blouse she’d picked out. She paired the blouse with a crisp cotton skirt that had a white and teal paisley pattern printed on a navy blue background. For shoes she chose a funky pair of teal leather pumps. She picked some silver and turquoise jewelry pieces, including a fun pin shaped like a turtle.

The second day of dance class went well. She went straight to Jack, and everything clicked and they got back into dance position just like that. He told her she looked nice, if a little “school-marmy,” and she teased by saying she hadn’t wanted to give him any extra reasons to look down. He cutely had no response to that.

They went through the box step they’d learned the day before, and then added a couple new moves they could do to mix things up and start moving around the room instead of staying in essentially the same spot. Their teacher gave them a routine to follow, and it took three or four songs for everyone to learn it. He even got fancy and showed them a move where the ladies got to do a fun little twirl.

Dee finally got her bath that evening. Kay helped her out of her corset, and she looked kind of silly with vertical red stripes down her torso. It was nice to be able to breathe deeply again. She luxuriated in her bubble bath, letting her sore abdomen soak until the marks went away. And she barely had enough time for a quick rinse off in the shower before Kay came knocking to tell her time was up. Dee negotiated a few more minutes so she could wash her hair, but that was it.

Once Dee had toweled off, Kay imprisoned her in a new clean corset that Vanessa had left with her. She told Dee not to worry, that she’d done waist training with other students so she knew what she was doing. It seemed like she was even a little better at it than Vanessa was. She tightened it once, and let Dee’s organs get used to their new positions for a bit, then tightened the laces again, and on a third tightening, she had Dee stand lower so Kay could put her knee against her back for leverage. When it was all done, she fetched a measuring tape and checked Dee’s waist. Kay had gotten her down to within an inch of her target size. It took more time to get used to, but Dee figured she was hardly the first girl to suffer in order to be beautiful.

***

The day of her last dance lesson, Dee was trying to pick out an outfit that would be sexy without looking like it was trying too hard, one that would show off her best features. Standing in the closet in her bra, panties and corset waffling between three dresses, the thought hit her that she was trying to figure out which one Jack would like her in the best.

When Kay came to see why she was taking a little too long to get dressed, she found Dee sitting on the floor of her closet, weeping. She lowered herself down next to her, wrapped a reassuring arm around her, and let her lean on her shoulder. “What’s the matter, Sweetie? Did something happen?”

Dee sniffled, “I’ve lost myself. I think I snapped and went gay.”

Kay stroked her hair. “What do you mean?”

“I was choosing a dress to wear, and realized that I wanted to find one that the guy I’ve been dancing with would like.”

“Don’t worry about that. There’s nothing wrong with wanting men to think you look pretty. That’s a perfectly normal part about presenting a female appearance.”

“But that’s just it! I wasn’t trying to look good for all men; I wanted to look attractive for one specific man. I wanted this guy to want me, like sexually. I think I’ve been flirting with him all these classes without even thinking about it.”

“That’s okay, too. Flirting is a lot of fun. It shows that you’re really in touch with your feminine persona if you’ve been doing it subconsciously. It’s a good thing, really. And yes, flirting is about making someone desire you, so you want to wear something that makes him fantasize about ripping it off of you, but there’s no harm in a fantasy.”

“No? It doesn’t make me gay, though?”

“Honey, all that we’ve been working on this last month is taking your old male ego and locking it away in a box deep inside you. All that this means is that you’ve had a breakthrough in seeing yourself as completely female. Just take your old male self-concept and stick a pin in it. Allow yourself to embrace your womanhood completely. After next week and your big event, when you’re figuring out who you’re going to be everyday for the rest of your life, you can take that pin out. But for now, we don’t need him getting in the way.”

“So it’s not wrong if I want to be sexy for Jack?”

“No, it’s not. Just make sure you keep your relationship in the flirting stage. If you take things too far, you might end up in trouble. Let him undress you with his eyes, but not his fingers — they might get a surprise that could end badly.”

“Don’t worry about that. No one will be undressing anyone, not that it wouldn’t be fun. Wait, I don’t know why I said that. Where are these feelings coming from?”

“You’re just learning to accept yourself as a female. Don’t question your emotions, just let yourself feel them. Just be careful about acting on those feelings.”

“Okay, if you say so.”

“If it will help you rationalize away your unease, chalk up your attraction to this guy to the hormones you’ve been taking.”

Dee’s eyes widened in panic. “What?”

“You’ve been on a light dosage of female hormones since we started. That cream the doctor gave you that you’ve been rubbing into your breasts so they stay supple contains a small amount of estrogen. It’s so they behave like they were growing naturally. It’s why that stuff’s only available with a prescription. There’s probably been a tiny amount of growth in your actual mammary tissue, but I doubt you could see it without a microscope. Also, the herbal tea I’ve been giving you contains compounds that mimic female hormones, as well as others that reduce the impact of the male hormones your body produces naturally. Also, your body already produces some female hormones naturally, but you’re not taking anything to suppress those.”

“Really? Is there any danger that they’re making permanent changes to my body?”

Kay did her best not to laugh at the person who had undergone major surgeries to feminize her body worrying about tiny doses of hormones changing her. “No, Sweetie, the levels aren’t that high. You probably have slightly more estrogen in your bloodstream than a woman who’s passed through menopause, but nowhere near the amount in an average adult woman, let alone the body-changing surges of a girl in puberty. But the hormones are there, so use them as an excuse if you need to blame an outside influence to soothe your inner manhood enough to keep it from denying your feminine self the right to feel all that you’re feeling.”

“I suppose that makes sense.”

“Okay, now let’s get you cleaned up and looking your hottest for this guy. What did you say his name was?”

“Jack.”

“Look out Jack - Dee is going to knock you out of your socks! I just hope he’ll still be able to dance with you when there’s no blood left in his brain.” Dee actually started giggling along with Kay at that, and they worked together to pick out a killer outfit.

It had the desired effect. When she walked into the dance studio in her silk little black dress, all eyes were on her. Its layered handkerchief hem fluttered around her knees and covered up her lack of hips, and its halter-style bodice left her back and shoulders bare to feel the touch of her partner’s hand, while the neckline had a moderate V that showed off enough of her cleavage to tempt without seeming overtly slutty.

Burgundy lipstick made her mouth the focal point of her face, although her lush lashes and silvery eyelids demanded attention whenever she blinked. Large gold hoops were in her ears and her hair was pulled back in a fairly casual ponytail that bounced nicely as she crossed the room. She loved the click of her four-inch stilettos, and they brought her nearly eye to eye with Jack.

He was fairly dumbfounded, and fought for the right words to tell her how incredible she looked. She thanked him with a smile that turned his insides to mush. He seemed nervous again dancing with her, and Dee thought that was a good thing.

The instructor had them review everything they’d learned, and they did a few turns around the room in a foxtrot and then a few in a waltz, and Dee was really enjoying herself. She even liked it that Jack was the one steering them, and her only job was to follow his lead, and direct him only to avoid a crash if he couldn’t see another couple coming up behind him.

They went over the cha-cha they’d started to learn in the previous class, and the teacher also showed them some rhumba and a little salsa. The fast dances were a lot of fun, and Dee loved the way they made her skirt flare. But far too quickly, the class was over.

Kay hadn’t arrived yet to pick her up, so when Jack asked if she wanted to get a coffee in the café next door, she couldn’t think of an excuse to say no. She texted Kay to let her know where to find her, and followed him over to the coffee shop. Jack was very sweet and let her pick a table while he stood in line for their order.

They chatted lightly about dancing and why they’d taken the class. He was getting ready not to embarrass himself at a charity ball his boss was throwing. He was a civil engineer and worked for a firm that was involved in some major renovation projects in the old part of the city. Dee laughed that she didn’t even know there was an old part of the city.

For her part, she told him that she’d been taking the class because her friend was making her, which was mostly true. She also had to admit that she was preparing for a blind date that would be taking her dancing, and she could read Jack’s face to see his hope fading. She did let him give her his number in case it didn’t work out with the other guy, but she wouldn’t give him hers.

She felt sorry for him, because he seemed like a decent guy; he just had bad timing. So when Kay showed up to take her home, she gave him a little hug and a kiss on the cheek, and thanked him for making learning to dance so enjoyable.

In the car, Kay told her she thought Jack was cute, and told Dee she had good taste. Dee was feeling a little sad that she’d had to turn him down, but Kay reminded her that she’d get her chance to go out with a guy soon enough. Dee wasn’t sure whether to feel dread or excitement about that.

***

Kay took Dee off her herbal tea the day before her big date. She wanted to give her libido a chance to come back. Dee was confused enough as it was, but she went along with it. That night, she had a strange dream that she didn’t quite remember but it had something to do with dancing and she thought Jack might have been there. She was also surprised to discover that for the first time in a long while, she’d awoken with an erection.

She contemplated trying to just will it away, but it had been so long since she’d had any kind of sexual thought she decided to take things into her own hands. She didn’t want a mess, so she got up and fetched a towel and her softest skin lotion from the bathroom. While she was up, she locked her bedroom door, just so Kay wouldn’t interrupt anything.

She removed her nightgown and lay in bed atop her towel wearing just her corset, and wished she had a way to take that off, too. She ran her shiny nails along her sexy, smooth legs and imagined it was the caress of a lover. She danced her fingers along the inside of her thighs and drew close enough to tease, but didn’t touch just yet.

She moved her hands up along her body to find her breasts, giving each a gentle squeeze. Her fingers naturally gravitated to her firm and eager nipples. A few drops of lotion on each hand made her thumbs slippery enough that as they traced circles around her nipples, faster and faster, it brought excitement and not pain. Her breathing became more rapid, and she worried about hyperventilating. She gave each nipple a sharp pinch and that nearly sent her over the edge.

It was time. While her left hand continued to play with a nipple, her right hand reached out and placed a dollop of lotion on the site of her hunger. She worked her hand along the shaft, letting a different finger pay a visit to the warm purple tip with each stroke.

In only a few minutes, her ministrations were rewarded with a sticky burst of relief. She had a strong urge to lick her fingers but they smelled too floral from the lotion when she got them close to her mouth. She wiped herself off on the towel and breathed as deeply as the corset would allow, savoring the afterglow for a moment.

Eventually she got out of bed, put her towel in the hamper, wrapped her sweaty body in a robe, and sought out Kay’s help so she could get her straightjacket off and take a shower. She thought that maybe Kay suspected what she’d been doing, but she didn’t say anything.

Her day was a fairly easy one. A brief review of body language, emphasizing flirtatious gestures, was followed by some practice with nighttime makeup techniques. After lunch, they watched a couple romantic comedies on DVD, and Dee had to point out how the women were using their words, postures, and fashions as tools to help get their men.

Dee had to read a romance novel at bedtime, to help put her in the right mindset for her date the next day. Fortunately, it didn’t inspire any sexy dreams, at least none she could recall.

***

Thursday Kay had gone out early and brought a shopping bag of things up to Dee’s room. “Now before I show you what I got for you, I want to make it extra clear that all I’m asking you to do tonight is go out to dinner and dancing with Joe, and behave as though you’re a woman on a date with a man, enjoying herself. That’s the only service he’s been paid to perform, and all I’ll be asking him about when I call him tomorrow is how you did in public.”

Dee wasn’t sure where Kay was heading, but was following her so far. “Okay, I understand.”

“When he brings you home at the end of the date, it’s up to you where you want to go with the scenario. A girl’s got her options for how to deal with a guy. You could thank him for a nice evening and send him on his way with a peck on the cheek, or you could let him walk you to your door and give him a serious good night kiss, or you could invite him in and let things get a little more physical. But either way, it’s all up to you.”

“I don’t think I’ll want to do much more than the good night kiss, but okay.”

“In case you do want to invite him in, you don’t need to worry about me being here to eavesdrop. I’ll be spending the night in a hotel, and won’t be back until noon tomorrow.”

Dee shook her head. ‘That’s expecting a little too much. I really don’t think that’s necessary.”

“It’s already been arranged. Besides, even if you’re home alone you might want to be alone to do some experimenting. If going out with Joe leaves you curious, but you don’t think you’re comfortable yet with the idea of an actual man, I got you a couple toys that you can play with.” Kay opened her shopping bag and pulled out a very realistic looking silicone penis complete with testicles, and a second slender bullet-shaped dildo. “Either of these can give you some idea of what it would be like to be penetrated, and both of them vibrate, so they’re even better than the real thing.”

Dee wanted to tell Kay to keep her toys, but she had to admit to herself that a part of her truly was curious about what it would feel like to be with a man like a real woman. She tired not to let Kay see what she was thinking, but she couldn’t help blushing.

Kay continued, pulling a large squeeze bottle out of her bag. “If you do use one of these, or if you invite Joe to spend the night, (don’t worry about him rejecting you; I know for a fact you are exactly his type) make sure you use plenty of lube. Use too much and you might make a little mess, but if you don’t use enough you can get really badly hurt, so try to err on the side of excess. Liberally coat your little friend, and also give yourself a good couple of squirts directly.”

Even though she was somewhat accepting of the idea of being penetrated, having to think about the specific mechanics involved made Dee very uncomfortable. It wasn’t a part of her anatomy she regularly gave a lot of thought to.

And Kay wasn’t done discussing that area. “To really properly prepare yourself for sex with either an actual man or one of these substitute men here, it’s polite to make sure you’re nice and clean for him and have plenty of room inside.” She pulled out a box of six disposable enemas. “One of these should be enough, but if you’re really worried about being a good hostess before you invite a guest over, a second one to make sure should be enough for peace of mind. I wouldn’t do more than two in a row, though. I just get the big box to save money.”

Having to think about cleaning herself out before shoving something up there made it feel more real, and Dee had to concentrate to remain calm. When she’d settled down, she hid the new toys in the drawer of her nightstand, and put the big box in the cabinet in her bathroom.

After finishing her sex talk, Kay gave Dee a hand getting ready for her date. Dee was relieved to learn that she’d be set be free from the corset for an extended time. She had to wear an elastic waist cincher instead, but it wasn’t quite as tight as the corset, and she could take it off and put it on without needing assistance.

Dee spent extra time tucking and taping her extra bits back in place, and then pulled on a pair of black satin panties that had extra padding in the buns and hips to round out her figure. She wore a coordinating lacy black strapless bra that had just a little bit of push-up in its cups. Her legs were encased in a pair of sheer black seamed stockings with silicone tops that stayed up without the need of garters, and a pair of sexy peeptoe slingbacks that showed off her red lacquered toenails went on her feet.

Her fingers were also done in a shiny fire engine red. They contrasted nicely with the deep purple minidress she pulled over her head. It had tiny spaghetti straps and when Kay zipped it up, it clung tightly to her curves. Her boobs were very nicely framed in the low scooping neckline, and the hemline came to only five inches or so below the swell of her sexy faux derriere.

Kay worked with a curling iron to give Dee a partial updo, with her hair gathered back but then released in a cascade of ringlets. Her makeup was also flashier than usual, with shimmering powder over a flawless foundation base, and a few more shimmers on her shoulders and décolletage. Enough blush went on her cheeks to contour her cheekbones, and extended wearing bright red lipstick with a shiny topcoat made her lips seem to beg to be kissed. Smoky smudged eyeshadow covered her lids, and her eyes were outlined with crisp black eyeliner and volumizing black mascara. She even used an eyelash curler to make her eyes seem larger.

For jewelry she wore a triple-strand silver chain necklace that helped highlight her cleavage, and long dangling silver chandelier earrings. Four silver bangles went on her left wrist along with a bracelet watch, and a silver ring with what looked like a pair of amethysts went on the middle finger of her right hand.

Dee looked in the mirror and worried that maybe they’d gone a little overboard. She looked a little too sexy; would she be sending Joe the wrong message? Would people think she was some kind of hooker? Kay tried to ease her fears by saying she didn’t look like a cheap tramp; she was clearly wearing quality designer clothes. Sure she looked sexy, but that was just because Dee would have looked sexy even without special clothes and makeup. She didn’t look like a hooker, just the beautiful woman she was, dressed up for a night on the town with her date.

It was too late to change, so she just had to trust Kay’s judgement. She checked her watch and saw that she was late. She was glad that Joe seemed to be running late, too. Kay spoke up and said that Joe was already there. He’d shown up while Dee was dressing, and Kay had shown him in. He was waiting downstairs for her, but Dee didn’t need to worry — a gentleman expects to have to wait for his lady to get ready.

What it did mean was that Dee didn’t have any time to get nervous. Her date was already there, so she wouldn’t have to waste any energy worrying about what he would be like. She could find that out as soon as she left her room. Kay organized a clutch bag for her, and picked out a wrap for her to carry, and said she’d go tell Joe that Dee was ready. Dee took a couple of deep breaths and then opened her door and did her best glide down the stairs to the foyer.

Joe followed Kay into the hallway and looked up to see his companion for the evening coming into view. First to appear were a pair of very sexy shoes — her feet weren’t too big; that was a point in her favor. The feet were topped by an incredible pair of legs and he began to think that this was going to be an easy job. She had beautiful hands with long shiny nails, and her slender arms had neither unsightly hair nor unwanted musculature. A magnificent rack caught his eye next and he was glad this time Kay had hired him to escort an actual tranny and not a guy in a dress with fake rubber tits. He wondered if she was pre- or post-op, and his eyes strayed to her crotch but he didn’t quite have the right angle to look up her dress. She spoke, and he looked up to her face. Damn! She was gorgeous! And amazingly, he was getting paid for this. For a moment he wondered if Kay was pulling a trick on him and setting him up with an actual woman for a change, but she’d said this one was one of her usual clients, but there was nothing usual about her. He’d have to bring his A game for this one.

Dee saw the man standing in the foyer looking up at her. He was tall, at least six-foot four or five. He’d be towering over her even in her heels. He was broad, too. His nicely tailored charcoal gray suit jacket did nothing to conceal his muscular shoulders, and the open buttons on his blue silk shirt showed some of the curly golden hairs on his tanned, powerful chest. He stood with his hands in his pockets, which somehow seemed to make his belt buckle catch the light from the ceiling fixture. Her eye was drawn to the shiny buckle naturally, and not because she was wondering about what was beneath it. She apologized for making him wait, but he didn’t seem to hear her. She tried again when she stepped off the stairs.

“Hi, I’m Dee. I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long?” She held out her hand for a shake, but he took it and kissed it.

“Joe. And for someone as lovely as you, I’d wait an eternity. It will be my pleasure to be your escort for this evening. May I help you with your wrap?” He took the silk shawl from her hand and deftly draped it across her shoulders, in a move that somehow ended up with his arm around her waist. Dee wasn’t sure how to react.

Kay held the front door for the couple, wished them luck on their date, and reminded Dee that she’d see her at noon the next day. Joe hoped that implied what he thought it did.

He walked Dee to his car. It was some kind of black sports model, but she didn’t know enough about cars to name its make or model. He clicked his remote to unlock it, and opened the passenger door for her, holding it while she got in. Dee had to be very careful getting in with such a short hemline than she didn’t give him a free show as he stood by the door. She scooped her skirt behind her and backed into the seat, keeping her knees tightly squeezed together, and swung her legs in once she was seated. Joe pulled the seatbelt out for her when he saw her reaching up, and closed the door once she was tucked inside securely.

He went around to the driver’s side and got in. Dee noticed that he didn’t fasten his own seatbelt, and he turned to her and smiled after he started the engine, as though she was somehow supposed to be impressed by the hum of his motor. As they drove to the restaurant, he told her to try to forget who was paying and who was being paid to be there; she should just think of it as two people enjoying each other’s company for a night on the town. And even though he knew the kind of person Kay worked with, as far as he was concerned she was a beautiful woman, 100% complete. He’d be treating her as such, and he hoped that was how she saw herself. Joe had given that same speech dozens of times, but this was one of the rare cases where he actually meant all of it.

It did help put Dee at ease. It would be easier if she could just let go of all the baggage and circumstances that brought her to this point and just be in the moment, a woman out on a date with a man, and do whatever felt right from that perspective.

Joe asked if she wanted some music, and before she could answer he moved his hand from the gearshift to the stereo controls, letting his fingers “accidentally” brush her knee as he did so. Soft, romantic R&B came out of the six speakers that surrounded them, and Dee could feel her seat vibrate when the subwoofer hit the bass line. Joe’s style of driving on the freeway reminded Dee of Maritza, and she felt sad that her love wasn’t there. But it also reminded her that Maritza had not only given her permission to go on this date with a man, but in her Valentine letter had actually seemed to be encouraging Dee to do more than just date. So she just smiled at Joe and tried to remember the words to the old song that goes “if you can’t be with the one you love, love the one you’re with.”

Joe heard Dee kind of singing under her breath, but she was way off for the song that was playing. He’d never understand chicks, even those that used to be dudes. But she was hot, and hot excuses a whole lot of crazy. Of course, that theory had gotten him a lot of trouble in the past. She was smiling at him, so he smiled back, but that seemed to make her mad that he wasn’t keeping his eyes on the road.

They made it to the restaurant well in advance of their reservation. Joe wasn’t quite fast enough to keep the valet from opening Dee’s door for her, but he did get there on time to take her hand and help her out of the car. The valet did take a lingering look at her as she got out, but he’d have to suffer with knowing she’d be with Joe all night, and not some schmuck in a red blazer. He held out his arm, and she took it in hers, even cuddling up against him a little although that was probably mostly because of the wind. He held her tight while they waited for the claim tag from the valet.

Joe was a gentleman and held the door into the restaurant for Dee, and he offered her his arm again to walk over to the hostess station to give his name. Their table wasn’t ready yet, but she said they could wait in the bar. Dee was impressed when he told her that since he was driving he didn’t want a drink before dinner, but if she wanted one he’d be happy to go with her to the bar and get a glass of water or something.

She still felt a little tense and thought that maybe a drink would help her loosed up a little, so took him up on the offer. They walked over to the bar and found a little table. The high stools were another challenge for Dee to sit without flashing anyone, but she managed to get perched and even got her legs crossed without offering a peek of her panties. Joe asked her what she wanted and then went over to the bartender to fetch a glass of house white for her and a bottled water for himself.

They tried making small talk while they waited in the bar, but they were pretending to be just a couple on a date so they couldn’t talk about his job as a paid escort, and they were pretending she was a normal woman so they couldn’t talk about her real life or the situation that had brought her to Kay, so that left very general topics of conversation. He tried sports, but she didn’t follow any. She tried talking politics, but he really didn’t have any strong opinions on issues. Since they were LA and the awards were only a few days away, he tried asking if she had any picks for the Oscars, but she claimed not to watch very many movies.

Finally, she hit upon asking if he’d always lived in California, and he told her how he’d started out in Indiana but had come west after college to seek fame and fortune in Hollywood. She talked about being from Ohio, and they started reminiscing about how things were different out on the coast than back home, and a lot of their experiences were similar. Dee only edited her story slightly, lying with a conspiratorial wink about having been a smalltown girl trying to make her way in the world, before deciding to come out to Hollywood to become famous. She also lied about still looking for fame, since she didn’t want him to figure out her real identity.

They were getting along so well, smiling and laughing and trading stories that when the hostess waved to them they didn’t see her and she had to walk to right next to them to say their table was ready. Dee’s glass of wine had worked well, and at some point in their conversation she’d touched his hand to punctuate a point, but she’d left hers there for some reason, and she was embarrassed to realize she was holding his hand when the hostess showed up.

She brought them back to the hostess station, where a waitress was waiting to bring them to a table and give them their menus. She gave them a list of specials and then gave them a few minutes to make up their minds. Dee ended up going with a Chilean sea bass special, and Joe ordered a steak. She stayed with the house white she’d been drinking and got a refill, and he got a draft beer.

Her stomach was still a little nervous, so she just poked at her salad and couldn’t finish it. She offered Joe her cherry tomatoes and he accepted, but when she stuck her fork in one and reached over to drop it on his salad plate, he took her hand and brought the fork to his mouth instead. His hand was larger and stronger than hers, and it was very easy to just let him guide her. And somehow the way his lips wrapped around the tomato was sexy as all hell. She silenced the inner voice that was trying to say that something very wrong was happening, and just went with the flow. She let her eyes meet his and licked her lips as though she’d been the one to eat the tomato. He leaned closer and her heart fluttered in anticipation, but he just brought her fork-hand to her plate for the other tomato.

She finished playing with her salad and placed the napkin from her lap onto the table. She excused herself to go to the Ladies’ and Joe actually got up too, so she’d have an easier time getting out. Impulsively, she gave him a quick peck on the lips and told him she wouldn’t be long. She wiggled a sexy sashay toward the sign indicating the restrooms, and was grateful that there was no line.

She took a stall, raised her dress and lowered her panties, hoping no one would come in and notice that her rear end came off with them. She did her business and wiped off, checking to make sure her tape still held. It did. She pulled her booty back up and pulled her dress into place, and exited the stall without getting found out. After washing her hands she checked her makeup. She literally powdered her nose, which made her chuckle, and she made a few kissy faces at the mirror to make sure that her lipstick was living up to its claims of maintaining color and shine even after eating.

She sashayed back to her table, and Joe stood up again when he saw her. The salad plates had been cleared, but their entrees hadn’t shown up yet. She touched his arm and said “I’m back. Miss me?”

As an answer, he put his hand out to keep her from sitting down. He turned toward her and moved his hand to her cheek. He turned his face toward hers and held her there as he gave her a long, full kiss. She only parted her lips briefly, to let the tip of her tongue quickly touch his, but she didn’t think he deserved more just yet.

Joe broke the kiss and sat down, hoping she didn’t notice why he needed to get his lap back under the table so urgently. This chick was definitely getting revved up, and the fact that she wasn’t completely a chick just made her even sexier to him. He hoped she didn’t get up again soon. He’d be forced between rudely staying seated and embarrassingly standing up.

Their meals showed up and they started eating. Joe casually commented that Dee’s fish looked pretty good, and she cut off a piece and held her fork out to him. He took her hand again and brought it to his mouth. He looked her straight in the eyes and declared it to be delicious, but she wasn’t sure if he meant her or the fish. He asked if she wanted to try a taste of his steak, and she said sure. He cut a slice and put it on his fork, but instead of holding it out to her, he brought the piece to his own mouth and held it between his teeth. He turned toward her, daring her to take the piece from his mouth.

She slowly brought her mouth to his, trying to just nab the piece of steak without letting him get what he wanted. But he was too fast for her and opened his mouth right when she got hers in place, and she soon found not only the steak but also his tongue inside her mouth. She leaned into it and had a little fun playing with his mouth before she backed away.

Joe didn’t want to cause too big a scene in the restaurant, so he held back on the physical stuff, but kept flirting with his eyes, and describing everything he was eating in terms that could be interpreted as talking about sex without much effort.

Dee behaved herself for the most part, but did try to get the upper hand by fiddling with her necklace, shrugging her shoulders, and leaning forward occasionally, all to make him look at her chest. Every time she caught him watching her breasts, she awarded herself a point. She didn’t finish all her entrée but still said yes when the waitress asked if they were interested in dessert. She ordered a chocolate cheesecake thing that sounded truly decadent, with two forks. Joe just wanted a coffee.

When the dessert came, she decided they needed to sit closer to share the plate, and scooted her chair over closer to his. Joe took advantage of the opportunity and reached out to put his arm around her shoulders. Dee broke off forkfuls of the treat at a time, feeding every other bite to Joe and the rest to herself, until she was full. There was a little square left, and she had them wrap it up to take home.

When Joe used his credit card to pay the check, Dee paused for a moment and thought about it. He was probably just going to pass his expenses along to Kay, and she’d probably just be passing her expenses along to Claude. So in a sense, Claude had just taken her out to dinner. That train of thought led to scary places, so she quickly derailed it and tried to get back in character.

Joe pulled out her chair and offered a hand to help her up. She accepted his assistance, and carefully smoothed her dress as she stood so no one got a free show. She grabbed her bag and he adjusted her wrap for her. She let him wrap his arm around her waist and guide her to the door. There was only a short wait for the valet, but there was a breeze so Dee snuggled up close to her date. At least her dress was tight enough that there was no danger of her skirt blowing up.

When the car pulled up, Joe opened the passenger door for her, and she gave him a quick kiss before getting in. He went around to the other side, tipped the valet, and got into his seat. She leaned over to him and said, “Would you please fasten your seatbelt this time?”

He smirked. “If you really want my belt fastened you’ll have to do it yourself.”

Dee had to undo her own belt first, but she accepted his challenge and twisted in her seat and leaned across him to grab the little metal tab by his shoulder. Joe caught her in his arms and pulled her close for a real kiss. After only a token resistance her lips yielded and accepted the invasion of his tongue. Joe was really getting into it when the driver behind him hit the horn to get him to move his car. He had to let her go.

Dee pulled away and returned to her seat, but not before buckling him in. She gladly smiled over winning that one. And if maybe her fingers brushed his crotch as she pulled the belt over and she noticed exactly how much he was in her thrall, that was just a bonus. She straightened her dress and fastened her own belt.

Joe said that Kay had told him to take Dee dancing, but if she didn’t want to they could go somewhere else and Kay wouldn’t have to know. Dee told him that she’d been taking classes specifically so that she could go dance with him, and she thought it would be fun. He agreed and hit the freeway again, to take her to one of his favorite clubs.

It was an intimate little venue where a small combo played danceable jazz. Dee imagined that before California laws got all healthy, the room would have been smoke-filled and sleepy. Even without the smoke it was still dimly lit, virtually the only fixtures were low-wattage glass globes pretending to be candles on the little tables. Joe seemed to be a regular here; the doorman let them in without charging a cover, and he seemed to congratulate him for landing a hottie.

Joe had planned his night expecting Kay’s student to be slightly passable or worse, and he almost regretted taking Dee to a shadowy dance club. She deserved to be shown off under a spotlight. But she wanted a place with ballroom music, and this was the only one he was familiar with.

They claimed a table, and he got them a couple drinks from the bar. They sat and listened to a couple songs before she seemed ready and he asked her to dance. She seemed to fit nicely in his arms, and for a beginner she was a pretty good dancer. They stayed on floor until the band took a break, when they returned to their table.

As they sipped their drinks, Dee flattered Joe. “You’re a good dancer, and it was very easy following your lead.”

He lightly stroked her hand. “I agree. We work well together.” With a wink he added, “You know, they say that you can tell by the way a couple is on the dance floor, what they’d be like in bed.”

Dee lost her breath for a moment. When the shock passed, she tried to cover by batting her eyelashes and leaning in conspiratorially. “No, I had not heard that. Do you think it’s true?”

Joe played it coy. “I don’t know. I haven’t done the research.”

Dee grinned. “Well then, let’s get back on the floor and see what kind of stamina you’ve got!” She grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet.

They lasted through five more songs before they were both getting a little tired. Dee told Joe to take her home. She buckled him in again, and this time besides stealing a kiss he gave her bottom a little squeeze. Dee wondered if he knew he was groping a foam pad. He was a great kisser anyway.

Before she realized it, he pulled into her driveway. He got out of the car fast enough to open her door for her while she was still taking her seatbelt off. He took her arm and walked her to her door.

At the front stoop, he swept her into his arms and leaned in close. She returned his embrace, and they shared a deep, wet toe-curling kiss. Dee had a conundrum. Would she bid him good night and send him on his way, or open her door and invite him in?

*** To be continued…

Oscar Night by Jennifer Brock At last year’s Oscar’s, novelist/screenwriter David Fine wore a special dark red tuxedo designed for him by his friend Claude Marsh. After being insulted by TV personality Jane Waters, he joked that if he was nominated again he’d wear a gown. Claude organized a “cabal” of experts to work toward convincing David that the best way to pull it off would be to become as female as possible, and he agreed, especially when his girlfriend fashion model Maritza Delgado was keen on the idea. He even got a number of surgeries to make him more female, and has been working under the tutelage of feminine behavior expert Kay Thomas. When we left off, our heroine Dee had gone on a date with Joe, a paid escort, and was kissing him on her doorstep, unsure whether to send him home or invite him in...

Part 19
Joe was an excellent kisser. Dee didn’t want it to have to stop so suddenly. Maybe she’d had a few too many glasses of wine, or maybe she was just really getting into her role as a woman on a date. When she pulled her face away from his and broke the kiss, she still kept one hand on him while the other got her keys from her purse. She threw caution to the wind. “Would you like to come inside, for a cup of coffee or something?”

Joe smiled at her. “I’d love to.”

She opened the door and led him to the living room. “Take a seat.” She gestured toward the furniture.

She started to head toward the kitchen to start the coffee pot, but he grabbed her arm. “That can wait. You’ve been on your feet all night, and deserve a little time off of them.” He kept his right hand on her back, and did a quick move that caught her in the back of her knees with his left, and he scooped her up effortlessly, as though she were petite and lightweight. She let out a squeal of surprise and threw her arm around his shoulders to balance. Dee wondered what he was going to do. Was he planning to carry her upstairs and have his way with her, like some conquering barbarian?

That didn’t seem to be his plan, which left Dee feeling almost disappointed. He looked around the room for a moment, and then sat down on the couch, keeping her across his lap. He reached over and slipped off her shoes. “These make your legs sexy, but I’m sure your feet are killing you, especially after all that dancing.”

His strong fingers started kneading the ball of her left foot, and it was only when he made her feel so good that she realized how much her feet really had been hurting. Dee let out a tiny moan of pleasure, and almost couldn’t keep her voice in the feminine register. “Ooh, that’s good! Keep it up and I will be your slave forever.” She writhed a bit and flexed her toes. He shifted and got his other hand in on the action, allowing him to devote his attention to both of her feet.

Dee was in absolute heaven. Joe was a well-trained expert who definitely knew his way around a female foot. He even slid his hands up and massaged her aching calves. This was better than sex! She wiggled some more, not realizing exactly the extent to which she was grinding her enhanced posterior against his lap. When it got to be almost more than she could take, Dee sat up and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling his face toward hers for a kiss. She welcomed his tongue into her mouth and hungrily ran her own along it.

Joe let go of her feet and moved his hands around so he was holding her. His kisses were just wet enough without being too sloppy. Dee was so caught up in the intensity that she didn’t notice what his hands were doing until she felt his fingers on her right breast, directly touching her nipple and not just groping her through her clothes. He had deftly unzipped her dress and unhooked her bra one handed while she was distracted, and his other hand seized the opportunity once access was no longer obstructed.

Her first reaction to his touch on her nipple was surprise, and she inhaled sharply, sucking on his tongue. Her second reaction was to twist her waist so her torso was facing him, so he could get his other hand in on the action. She had two breasts, and they both wanted attention. She lowered her shoulders and arched her back to show them off as much as possible.

This chick had some of the best tits Joe had ever seen, and you don’t expect that in a tranny. He grabbed one in each hand — he had big hands, but she had to packing D cups because there was more than a handful, but they didn’t look too big on her. Girls like D don’t grow them that big on hormones alone, so there had to be some kind of implants, but squeezing them felt real enough to Joe. Her nipples were somewhat on the small side, but considering that she used to be a dude they were fine. And they were very responsive, which made up for it. They stood up as soon as he brushed his fingers passed them, and all the little bumps on her areolas followed. Those little bumps were almost more fun to play with than the actual nipple.

Almost. He rolled each nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and gave each a little twist before letting go. Then he switched to just brushing his fingers across them, drawing a five-pointed star, so he’d hit a different part of the nipple every time and it wouldn’t get over stimulated. He went faster and faster, until he worried he was rubbing her raw and he had to stop kissing for a moment to lick his fingers.

Dee couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so incredible! She felt as though he was about to give her an orgasm through nipple stimulation alone. She let her own hands wander a little along his chest, tracing the contours of his powerful muscles. She fiddled with a couple of his buttons and was pleased that unlike David’s usual style he didn’t wear an undershirt. His luscious pecs were right there for her to play with.

When his moistened fingers sent her into pure ecstasy, Dee’s breath grew more rapid and she felt her body trembling all over. She had to stop her kisses and just relaxed and let him push her back so he could lower his mouth to suck at her breast. His tongue drove her wild, and when he capped it off by almost biting her nipple it was perfect! And then he moved and did it again on her other breast. She was overwhelmed.

Somewhere in there, her mind caught up with her emotions and she started to seriously think about what was happening. This was fun and all, but there was a line she wasn’t sure she wanted to cross. Joe wasn’t her boyfriend or anything; he was just a guy who’d been hired to show her what a date with a man would be like, and she found out that it was pretty good. But she was in love with someone, and that wasn’t Joe. Would it be a betrayal of that love to let things get more physical?

At the same time, she didn’t want to be a tease. It wouldn’t be fair to Joe to just lead him on and kick him out into the cold, especially after all the wonderful sensations he’d given her. Maybe if she did something for him in return, she’d be able to send him home without feeling guilty about it.

She pulled his face back up to hers and kissed him again, and then she swung her legs around so she was sitting next to him on the couch instead of on top. He seemed a little confused, so she quickly placed her hand on his lap to let him know what she was doing. She figured out how to undo his belt buckle and unzipped and unbuckled his pants. He was already really turned on, so his erection popped out pretty much as soon as she opened the fly in his shorts.

There it was, as real as life, an actual penis, right at her fingertips. She’d never touched another man’s penis before. No, that was the wrong thought. She was a woman, not a man. She didn’t have one of those; that would be ridiculous. She tentatively reached out and lightly ran her hand down its length, petting it as though it were a kitten. It flexed and jumped at her touch. She stroked it again, less gently but more slowly. She could do this. She grabbed the base with her left hand to hold it in place, and wrapped her right hand around the shaft and started moving it up and down, slowly at first, but then gaining in speed.

She saw a little glimmer of liquid at the tip, and the sudden realization hit her that this was going to make a mess. She should have fetched a tissue or a towel or something to catch his juices, but she hadn’t thought things through. It would be just rude if she made him wet his pants, and she really didn’t want to get a new stain on her couch. Her dress was half off, so she might have been able to take it off and use it to catch any spills, but she wasn’t sure if it was dry clean only, and didn’t want to have to face a cleaner and have to ask about bodily fluid stains.

There was only one solution that presented itself to her mind. She was frightened and excited at the same time about it, but she couldn’t come up with a better plan. She slid down onto the floor and knelt between his legs. He got the idea of what she was doing and spread his knees wider to help her out. She leaned in and brought her mouth down onto him, being careful to keep her teeth away.

Dee’s thought had been that she’d continue to use her hands to stimulate him, and only use her mouth to catch whatever came out, but Joe didn’t know that. As soon as she’d brought her mouth into position, he put his hands on the back of her head and held it in place. He rocked his hips and she had no choice but to let him deeper into her mouth. With each thrust, he seemed to increase the pressure on his hands and pushed her head down closer. He even tried to give her encouragement by whispering, “Oh yeah, Baby, you’re doing great!”

Before long, she was taking his entire length into her mouth, fighting back her gag reflex. She did her best to try to use her lips and tongue on his most sensitive areas, hoping to bring him to completion sooner. She caught up with his rhythm, and figured out how to breathe without choking. When his thrusts increased their speed, she even began to bob her head in time with him, without his needing to push her to do it.

After a while her jaw was getting tired, and she really regretted joking about his stamina earlier. He really did have serious lasting power! Fortunately, right around then he said to her, “Okay, Baby. Are you ready?” She really didn’t have time to answer, even if she could have with her mouth full. The thing in her mouth exploded, and she tried to just hold the spurting head in her mouth, but he was still pushing into her.

He softened, and the firm hands holding her head in place became gentle fingers sweetly stroking her hair. “You were amazing, Baby! Give me a few minutes to recover and we can go do something that will feel just as good for you as it will for me.”

Dee swallowed hard, trying not to think about the taste in her mouth. She lightly gave his penis a kiss as she put it away, and her mind began to race. She stood up and nervously tried to straighten the straps on her dress. “I’ve got to go, um, freshen up. Wait right here.” She grabbed her purse and ran out of the room and up the stairs, making sure to keep a sexy wiggle in her hips.

The first thing she did when she got to her room was take her dress the rest of the way off. Her bra had fallen down inside it at around waist level, and it was really bothering her. The second thing she did was to go into her bathroom and brush her teeth three times and rinse out with mouthwash twice. It wasn’t that it tasted bad; she just didn’t want to be reminded of what she’d done. Once her mouth had become kissably fresh again, she was ready to figure out what to do next. She sat at her vanity table and did repairs to her makeup and hairstyle while she tried to make a decision.

There was just no getting around the full extent of what she’d done. She’d had sex with Joe. Granted, it was oral sex, but unlike certain ex-presidents as far as Dee was concerned oral sex was sex. Joe’s penis had been inside her body, and that wasn’t something she could take back. She felt like she’d betrayed Maritza’s trust, even though she’d been given permission to experiment and her Valentine letter had been fairly explicit about what she expected Dee to do with some man.

But at the same time, she didn’t really regret having sex with Joe. She’d been curious about how it felt to be a woman with a man, and he’d shown her some of that. It had been especially exciting for her when he’d taken control and almost forced her to do what he wanted. That’s not to say she’d enjoy being literally forced; rape wasn’t fun for anyone. But it was a thrill for her to be able to just submit completely and follow his lead. The idea of surrendering all of herself to him completely was very tempting.

Since she considered that she’d already had sex with Joe, what would be the harm in having more sex, in a more intimate manner, allowing herself to be as complete a woman as possible? She really couldn’t think of a compelling reason not to, and there were all kinds of urges in her aching to find out how it felt. It would have been so much easier if he just had been the barbarian and thrown her on the bed and taken her. But as much as she hated it, she was in control of the situation. He wouldn’t take her unless she gave herself to him.

It was as scary as it was exciting, but she decided to go ahead and invite him to join her upstairs, into her bed, into her body. But first she’d have to get ready. Remembering Kay’s advice, she went into her bathroom and found the box of disposable enemas. After reading the instructions a couple of times through, she wriggled out of her panties and lay on her bathroom floor in just her waist nipper and stockings. She uncapped the little bottle, stuck its lubricated tip inside her, squeezed as much of the fluid into her passage as possible, and took the bottle out. There were some weird bubbly noises and a vague feeling like indigestion, and then she urgently had to sit and let it pour out of her. It left her feeling pretty empty, but just for good measure she did the whole thing again, and when it came out the second time, it was mostly just water.

Now she had to pick out the right outfit for seduction. She walked over to her closet and looked through her lingerie, regretting that she hadn’t figured this part out before her date. She wasn’t even sure if there were any negligees in her wardrobe; she’d never had a reason to wear one before. But eventually she found some very sexy things in a drawer. She wanted something that would show off her best assets, without calling attention to her liabilities.

There were some things she liked, but they seemed kind of complicated. Whatever she ended up wearing, she didn’t want Joe to have to take too much time figuring out how to take it off of her. A few were too long, and some were too short, but then she found it. It was a black silk nightgown. At the top, it was fitted like a bra, and even had a little bit of push-up action going on. There was a ribbon that tied between her boobs in a bow, and below that it was split in a flyaway style all the way down to her ankles. Joe would merely have to pull that ribbon and her gown would come open to expose all her fun parts!

Perhaps some parts were just a little too exposed. She looked around and got a cute little black silk g-string that matched the gown. It had a tiny little strip of elastic in the back, and Dee imagined that if Joe didn’t want to take it off her he could just push it over to the side and have plenty of access.

That started her thinking about preparing her area like Kay had told her to. She found the bottle of lubricant in her nightstand drawer, and tried to figure out how she was going to get some up inside her so that she’d be slippery and ready for a visitor. She took her negligee off so she wouldn’t get it messy, and slipped off the g-string. While she was down there, she took the time to refresh her tape, making extra sure that everything was tucked up and hidden away. She didn’t want anything breaking the illusion that she was a complete and natural woman.

She lay face down on her bed and tried to aim the bottle at her little rosebud and squirt the liquid inside. That didn’t quite work. She’d have to hold herself open to get the lubricant in, and that was too difficult. She opted instead to spread the lubricant on her finger, and then stuck it down in as far as she could get it to go. It was a strange feeling, and she had to be careful with her long fingernails, but she ended up getting a fair amount inside. Then she went to her bathroom and washed her hands, and then used a damp washcloth to clean off some spillage on the outside of her buttocks. She then pulled her g-string back on and looked in the mirror, enjoying how it covered just enough to hide her secret.

She pulled her gown back on and tied the little bow in the front, then adjusted the position of her boobs in the cups, making sure it was creating a sexy cleavage. She checked the mirror and everything looked pretty good, but she really didn’t think the waist nipper worked with the whole look. She unhooked it and took it off and there were some stripe-like marks on her tummy. It wasn’t quite as desirable, and her waist suddenly had no definition.

As if that weren’t bad enough, the mirror also showed that somewhere in there she’d gotten a run in her left stocking, either when she was running around getting ready or perhaps earlier when Joe was massaging her legs. She took her stockings off and there were also more marks on her body, ring-shaped dents around her thighs where the silicone strips that held her stockings up had been.

She was almost ready to give up when she had a brainstorm and hit upon the perfect solution to both her problem areas. She dug around her lingerie drawers and found a black garter belt that matched her gown well enough. She fastened it on and it helped define her waist, and when she rolled a pair of sheer black stockings onto her legs and clipped them into the six garters, the marks on her thighs were covered.

A pair of black satin mules with marabou trim seemed like the right shoes for her seduction scene, a sexy slipper to show she was ready for bed, and ready to be bedded. To add to the casual look, she let her hair down and added a few more curls with her iron. She stripped her jewelry down to just her earrings, but then decided she needed to swap them for a pair of beaded hoops that she could sleep in, to continue the idea that she always looked this glamorous at bedtime.

A couple more spritzes of perfume for good luck, a fresh coat of gloss on her lips, and she was ready. Dee slowly opened the door then stepped out, striking a pose. She was turned partially to the side, so her breast would be seen in profile, and her left leg was showing in the slit in her gown. She cooed, “Joe, could you come here please?”

She held her position and waited, but couldn’t hear his footsteps on the stairs. Perhaps she wasn’t close enough for him to hear. She slithered in her most sultry sashay down the stairs, and got into position at the landing. “I’ve got something for you, Joe,” she said in her smokiest voice, letting her lips stay pursed in the O position at the end of his name.

He still wasn’t showing up. She took a moment to rein in her temper, and then delicately stepped around the corner to the living room. She paused in the doorway so he could get a good look at her, but she saw that her audience was gone. She peeked into the powder room to see if he’d disappeared in there, but no luck.

Her third time through the living room she finally noticed a small blue piece of paper on the coffee table. It was about 5” by 8” and folded in half. “Dee” was written on the outside in neat cursive handwriting. She sat down on the couch and unfolded it. There was a note on the inside. Joe must have brought stationery with him. She wondered if it was in his jacket pocket, or if he’d fetched it from his car. She read the note.

“Dee,
At first I thought you’d just gone up to use the can, but when you didn’t come out after an hour I realized what had happened. Kay told me this was your first date with a guy, so I understand that you got scared and hid from me when things started moving a little too fast for you. I’ve seen it happen before. Try not to beat yourself up about it. When you’re ready, you’ll know it. You were a first-rate cocksucker, and if it was really your first time, you’re a real natural! I’m sure you’ll probably be just as incredible in the sack, and the guy who gets to take you there will be one lucky son of a bitch!

I did have a great time with you tonight, and I would love to see you again — it wouldn’t even have to be professionally. I can’t think of anything I’d rather do than take you out on a real date. You are smoking hot, better looking than like ninety percent of the real women out there, so don’t let anybody try to put you down just because you’re a tranny. If you’re interested, give me a call. Kay’s got my number.

Thanks again for an amazing night,
Joe

P.S. I put your dessert doggie bag in the fridge for you.”

There was a part of Dee that was relieved that she didn’t have to go through with it, but most of her was feeling frustrated and more than a little pissed off at herself. Had she really taken that long to get ready? Why hadn’t she just shouted downstairs to let Joe know she was willing, but needed to prepare?

She was also kind of mad at Joe. He couldn’t have come up and knocked on her door if he thought she was feeling too scared to come out? And what was with his crude vocabulary? And what kind of idiot was he for not putting his phone number in the stupid note?

If only she had his number, she could have called him and said, “Joe, it’s Dee. Get on back here. If you’d only been a little more patient, you’d be screwing my brains out right now.”

Dee did have the number for Jack, the cute guy she’d met in her dance class. She could give him a good old-fashioned booty call. “Jack? It’s Dee. Are you doing anything? I’m home alone and aching to have a man inside me.” Although she probably ought to warn him, “By the way, it’s going to have to be from behind, since I don’t actually have a vagina… Well, because I have a penis instead, but that’s not a dealbreaker is it? Really, I don’t think that kind of language was necessary!” It probably wouldn’t go well.

Dee went back up to her room and tried to get up the courage to use even her thin vibrator on herself, but couldn’t do it. She didn’t want to have to be both the man and the woman. She wanted to lie there and lose herself in the desires of another, to feel herself being penetrated, and not to have to also be the one doing the penetrating. She gave up.

In an effort to make her unsatisfied urges go away, she went down to the kitchen and nibbled on her leftover cheesecake and drank two cups of Kay’s special anti-aphrodisiac tea, brewed extra strong. She didn’t want to be thinking about sex again for a long time, not until she saw her girlfriend again, which really wasn’t that far away, only three more days.

Back upstairs, she cleansed the makeup from her face, moisturized, and then changed into her frumpiest nightgown and went to bed, hoping that maybe in the morning this whole disaster would feel like just a bad dream.

Oscar Night by Jennifer Brock David Fine was a novelist who'd twice been nominated for an Academy Award for adapting his stories into screenplays. The last time he'd worn a red tuxedo that had been designed for him by his good friend the designer Claude Marsh. Fashion reporter Jane Waters had made a rude comment that colors were only for gowns, and David had joked that he'd wear a gown if he was nominated again. Claude had orchestrated a plan to turn David into a stunning vision of glamour and grace in his gown, by becoming as believably female as possible. With some encouragement from the girlfriend Claude had introduced him to, David even went so far as to undergo some surgical alterations. Under the tutelage of Kay Thomas, our heroine "Dee" has been learning how to become a woman. It's Friday morning, the Oscars are in two days, and Dee has just had a romantic experience with a man the night before.

Part 20

Dee awoke feeling ashamed. She’d given a man oral sex, and it was only her sheer incompetence as a seductress that kept her from taking it even further and bringing a man into her bed. But even so, a penis had been inside her. She’d swallowed semen. She had brought a man to orgasm with her mouth, and she’d liked it. It had given her a sense of accomplishment, a feeling of pride in a job well done (so to speak), and there was no getting around that.

Did this mean she was gay? That David, her true male self at the bottom of her psyche, was gay? Would he be able to go back to the way things were before? And what about Maritza? David had a girlfriend he was very much in love with, and it wouldn’t be fair to her if Dee was going to be looking to get penises stuck into all her various orifices. But did Dee really want that? She didn’t know; it was all so very confusing.

Dee tried to visualize her girlfriend naked, to try to see if that image still turned her on, but the megadose of anti-libido herbs she’d taken before bed seemed to be working too well. Thinking of sex with women didn’t do it for her, but neither did thinking of sex with men. She couldn’t even get aroused by playing with her nipples. She still had more questions than answers. She wasn’t sure if she was more ashamed for trying to bring a man into her bed or for failing to.

Male or female, gay or straight, she had no clue about who she or he really was anymore. Kay wasn’t even there to talk to about this. Dee just wanted to sit in the corner of her room and cry. That wasn’t going to solve anything either, though. She forced herself to get up and start her day, starting with a painfully hot shower.

While washing, she noticed that she could still feel the lubricant that she’d applied up inside her. She stuck her beauty bar in there as far as it would go in order to clean it all out. She plunged it up and down a couple of times before she realized that she was having sex with a bar of soap and pulled it out and felt even dirtier.

She had to stop, get out and go use one of her disposable enemas and clean herself out before she felt pure enough to finish her shower. She exfoliated herself pink with her loofah under the hot water, and gave her hair a good wash and conditioning. After drying and applying lotion to most of her skin, she tucked and taped up her offensive male parts, using extra tape. She blamed her libido for the mess she was in, and was essentially punishing her genitals for her behavior. To make things as difficult for them as possible, she put on her most constrictive tiny thong panties, and then her tightest pair of jeans, which needed her hip and bun pads to fit properly, so she pulled on her padded girdle and then her jeans.

She selected a nude seamless demi bra and wore a tight red tank top that had a generously scooped neckline. It showed enough cleavage to be sexy without looking slutty. She tried to roll a pair of knee-high stockings up her legs, but then realized her pants were so tight she needed to have her hose on first, so she had to take them off then put her stockings on, then pull them back on. Finally she was able to slip her feet into a pretty yet comfortable pair of brown leather ankle boots.

She checked herself out in the mirror. Even without makeup and with her sleeper earrings as her only jewelry, she looked pretty good. The person in the mirror was clearly female — not only were there no bulges where they didn’t belong, but her jeans were so tight it made you think you could almost make out the contours of her cleft. Dee even knew that it was impossible, but the seam running across there made the illusion believable.

She wasn’t petite by any stretch of the imagination, but she was well-proportioned. Her girdle had pulled in her waist and padded out her hips to give her a 38D-29-34 figure, not a perfect hourglass but close enough to look sexy. In three-inch heels she stood five-eleven, tall for a woman but not outside the natural range. Her tank top left her shoulders bare, but rather than calling attention to the fact that they were a little more square than they ought to be, somehow isolating them minimized the problem. She hadn’t done anything with her hair, so it hung in a mass of chestnut waves down her back almost to the spot where the clasp on her bra made a little bump in the back of her top. She smiled at the pretty girl in the mirror.

She grabbed a scrunchie and pulled her hair back into a ponytail. She wasn’t planning on leaving the house, so she left her sleepers in and didn’t add any other jewelry. But she did feel a little naked without any makeup, so she sat at her vanity to pick out a lipstick. It was then that she noticed she still had extremely slutty fire engine red nail polish on her hands.

She almost had another breakdown at the reminder of how far she’d gone to try to snare a man, but shook it off. She did know she needed to change her nail color, though. She pulled out a bottle of nail polish remover and some cotton balls and set to work cleaning the red off her fingers. For the sake of completeness, she needed to do her toes, too. She took off her boots, and then removed her jeans so she could get her knee-highs off.

Dee wanted to pull her jeans back up once her feet were bare, just to maintain that tight pressure, but they reduced her flexibility too much for her to touch her toes. She had to take them off and do her pedicure in her panties. That made her a little uncomfortable, so she put on her short red silk kimono-style robe to provide just enough coverage while still allowing her knees to bend.

She got out her pedicure kit and gave her toenails the full treatment. She started by removing the offending polish. Next she trimmed, filed and buffed her nails, and used an orangewood stick on her cuticles. Then it was time for new polish, so she stuck the squishy foam separators between her toes and applied first a smoothing base coat, then two coats of the new color (she’d settled on a dusty rose pearlescent polish), followed by a clear protective topcoat for added sheen.

While waiting for her toes to dry, she continued each step on her fingernails, too. The whole process ended up taking about an hour. Sitting there in the middle of it all, Dee reflected on how natural it felt to do, not weird or strange at all. What was odd was to think was that just a month ago she’d been a guy.

After her toes were completely dry, she rolled her stockings back onto her feet and put her jeans and boots back on. She picked a lipstick that matched her new nail color, and brushed a little mascara onto her lashes for good measure. She finally felt completely dressed.

There were still a couple hours before Kay was expected back, so to make the clock go faster as well as to burn off some of the angry energy still in her system, Dee decided to do some housecleaning. She started by stripping the sheets off her bed and throwing them into the washer. She wanted to eliminate the clinging scent of desperation.

While the machine was busy, she hand washed some of her delicates. She wanted to purify all of her undergarments from the night before. Unfortunately, the dress she’d worn was dry clean only. She tried to hide it by hanging it off on the side of her closet with some other things that needed to go to the cleaners. The rules for her complex didn’t allow outside clotheslines, so she had to unfold her indoor drying rack for her lingerie.

When the sheets moved to the dryer, she threw a load of towels into the washer and set to work scrubbing the bathrooms. The tight pants made it painful to bend her knees, but Dee felt she deserved it. Housecleaning had always been a way for David to clear his head whenever he got depressed, and it still worked. At least that hadn’t changed, even when so much else had. It also gave Dee a warm feeling to see the yellow rubber gloves she was wearing to protect her manicure were the same kind her grandmother used to wear for doing chores.

By the time Kay showed up, Dee had changed the bedding on both her own and Kay’s bed, gotten all the bathrooms sparkling clean, vacuumed the carpet on the second floor and the area rugs on the first, polished the hardwoods, and finished most of the dusting. Kay scolded her for overexerting so close to the day of the big event, but Dee said she had a lot of energy that needed to be worked out.

Dee had wanted to keep things private, but she really needed to talk about what was bothering her. It wasn’t long before she broke down and started sobbing in front of Kay. “I messed up, and ruined everything!”

Kay wrapped her arms around her and held her tight. “What did you ruin? The place looks sparkling.”

“No, with Joe. Last night. I’m horrible.” Dee sniffled between sentences, and made little sense.

Kay gave her a soft pat on the back and held her for a few minutes. “Okay, now start over slowly, from the beginning. What went horribly wrong with Joe? Did he get fresh with you?”

“No, I did.” Kay’s confused look made her continue, “I’m a filthy whore, a cheap slut, a dirty skank.”

Kay interrupted before she started on another crying jag. “You are no such thing. You are a good person. I can’t imagine why you don’t think so. What happened?”

Dee gave her the full story of everything she’d done with Joe, even showing Kay the note where he called her “a first-rate cocksucker.” She’d let a man she barely knew penetrate her body, on the first date. And she would have let him do more if she hadn’t taken so long getting ready, making herself cleaned out and lubed up for him. She was no better than a common street whore.

Kay let Dee feel sorry for herself and cry it out for a while, before trying to snap her out of it. “Honey, you did nothing wrong. You’ve just been programmed by an archaic chauvinistic society that shames women for the same things that it praises men, sexually. You had every right to experiment with Joe, and it doesn’t make you morally flawed to have done so. You were a consenting adult who understood what you were getting into. Not every bedmate has to be a soulmate. But going by your reaction today, it’s probably a good thing you didn’t take him into your bed; you clearly weren’t ready for it, and I’m sorry if I pushed you too far. Do you think you can get past this? I’ve only got one more lesson for you, and it’s a fun one.”

Dee nodded to let her know she understood, and muttered that it wasn’t Kay’s fault. She tried to put on a smile, but it was a weak one.

Kay dragged her upstairs to change for lunch. She had her strip down to just her panties and then squeezed her into a corset again. Dee had almost forgotten what it felt like, but soon remembered how to breathe in it without hyperventilating. Kay checked with the tape measure, and Dee was down to her 26-inch target. She couldn’t bend to touch her toes, so Kay had to roll her stockings up her legs for her, but Dee was able clip them to her corset’s garters by herself while Kay was buckling on her three-inch sandals.

The outfit Kay had picked out for her was a tiered cotton peasant skirt with pretty eyelet lace trim. Dee got to go braless, but wore a frilly champagne satin camisole under her sheer white chiffon blouse. She was told to skip foundation, but made up her eyes fully, with mahogany mascara and eyeliner and rose eye shadow that matched her nails and lips. She felt that her ensemble seemed a little gypsyish, so she chose wide gold hoop earrings and loaded her wrist with bangles, and found a cute gold pendant of a filigree turtle to crawl around in her cleavage.

Kay took out her scrunchie and brushed her hair out to its fullest volume, and gave her a few sprays of perfume. Dee grabbed her bone leather shoulderbag, and transferred all her essentials into it, and she was ready to go. A quick check in the mirror revealed a look that would have been very “Southern California” if only she was a little tanner and very much blonder. But she did have the requisite percentage of silicone body mass. She chuckled to herself and smiled a genuine smile.

Kay drove them a ways out from the city, to stop for lunch at a taqueria set up in what was probably officially a vacant lot. A trailer, like from a carnival concession or a jobsite caterer, was set to one side where people would place their orders at a window, and there were a number of plastic café tables and chairs arranged around the lot.

Kay told Dee to grab a table while she went up to place their order. Dee tried to find the cleanest, least wobbly of the vacant tables. Her spiked heels were not that suited for the packed dirt on the ground, but she managed to make her way without any mishaps, other than a few whistles from one of the patrons, a large Latino man who appreciated the way the wind was blowing her skirt around. She regretted her choice of a thong.

Before sitting down, she took out a sanitizing wipe and reduced the grime on her chair, grateful for paying attention to the lesson on how to keep a well-stocked purse. It also seemed like a good time to put on her sunglasses. Even though it would give her admirer more of a show, she also wiped down a chair for Kay, and did what she could to the tabletop.

Dee wasn’t waiting very long when Kay returned. She set a divided Styrofoam clamshell dish, a chilled bottle of water, and a paper napkin with a plastic fork and spoon in front of each of them. Dee opened hers and saw a pair of tasty-looking enchiladas covered in cheese and sauce, with a reasonable portion of spicy rice and refried beans on the side. It seemed more appealing than anything from Taco Bell, despite having to eat it outdoors.

Kay said that for this part of the challenge, Dee needed to figure out how to eat sloppy, messy food and still seem daintily feminine. And to add to the challenge, she had to do all this while the billowy outfit Kay had put her in was blowing around in the wind, and also while she was essentially on display out in public, to both passing cars and the questionable people around.

Dee accepted the challenge, and tried imitating Kay, but she’d planned ahead and gotten a much neater lunch for herself, a burrito and quesadilla she could pick up in her hand and nibble delicately. She decided to start by eating her rice and beans, since that was easy. She was able to keep her spoonfuls relatively small.

Her hair was whipping around in the wind, and kept going in her mouth. She was really annoyed that Kay had insisted on taking her ponytail out. She rummaged a little through her bag, to see if she had an elastic or barrette or something, but it seemed that she’d been sabotaged. She grumbled and glanced over at Kay, who was grinning smugly. Dee thought back at all the tricks she’d seen Maritza do, and shot Kay an evil grin of her own before pushing her sunglasses up onto her head to hold her hair down.

Freshly following that victory, she felt confident enough to try to conquer her enchiladas. She was quickly thwarted though, when she couldn’t cut it down to bite-sized pieces with either her dull plastic spoon or her fork. She carefully smoothed her skirt, stood up, and walked over to the trailer. On the other side of the window was the cook, working in the kitchen. She tried to get his attention, and ended up having to lean over to give him a great view, and he just gave her a confused look. She took a moment to remember the right word, then made a cutting motion with her hand and said, “ ¿Un cuchillo, por favor?”

He smiled broadly and pulled out a white plastic knife from a bin and handed it to her, giving a little wink. Dee let her fingers brush his hand as she took it, and did her sexiest sashay back to her table. She could almost feel his eyes on her behind as it swayed. She settled back into her chair and had no trouble slicing her enchilada into pieces that she could eat without making a mess. She had defeated Kay’s challenge! It felt good to win, and almost made up for how awful she’d felt that morning.

When they got back in the car, Kay explained that the real lesson would be starting soon. Dee thought the lesson was just about eating in public, but Kay’s full plan was sneakier than that. They’d gone out for Mexican for lunch in order to prepare Dee for the afternoon’s lesson, in how to deal with “involuntary bodily noises.” Dee laughed when she decoded Kay’s euphemism.

The lesson actually turned out to be fairly useful. After teaching Dee the secret that all girls learn of how to suppress “intestinal noises” (basically, clamp it down until you can get to the ladies’), Kay used some powder on her and taught her a technique for sneezing cutely without sending it through your vocal chords but instead just making a high squeak. Similarly, she was taught to yawn without making a noise. Using her full male vocal chords for any of these unplanned sounds would give her secret away.

The trickiest part of the lesson came after Kay had her drink this gooey stuff that tickled her throat. It was very tricky trying to keep her voice in the higher range while coughing. She had to settle for a quiet whispering kind of cough that wasn’t very effective at clearing her throat. Being strapped into a corset didn’t make it any easier, either. Just when Dee thought that the lesson would go on forever, Kay decided they needed to stop before she went hoarse.

They took a break for a light supper. Dee took some frozen breadstick dough and soup from the freezer, and threw together a fresh green salad while they were cooking. The kitchen was definitely her domain; Dee was back in her element. The meal came together nicely. Kay said she’d miss her cooking when she left, and until then Dee hadn’t really been thinking about it. In only two days her lessons would be over. What would her life be like after Sunday? She had no idea.

On the subject of Sunday, Kay asked Dee if she’d written her acceptance speech yet. Dee was fairly sure she wasn’t going to win, so she hadn’t given it much thought. And since her laptop had been taken away and locked up, she couldn’t do it anyway. Kay pointed out that she had plenty of pieces of paper available to write on, but Dee said she needed her computer to write; nothing else was comfortable. Anyway, in the extremely unlikely event that her screenplay won the prize, she knew who needed to be thanked and shouldn’t need to write it down.

As it was, Dee only had a little time to herself after dinner. Kay told her she had another appointment with Jeffrey and Tomas. They drove over, and the salon was surprisingly busy for a Friday night. The other ladies there must have also needed to get ready for the Academy Awards, or related events. There were hundreds of parties planned for Sunday night in the greater Los Angeles area.

Kay said the appointment was in her name to preserve Dee’s secret identity. So when the receptionist asked for “Ms. Thomas,” she had to stand up and follow her. Dee was uncomfortable being surrounded by so many strangers undergoing special private procedures, and tried not to look around too much either along the way or when she was shown to a chair. Eventually she saw a friendly face. Jeffrey showed up and gave her a half-hug and an air kiss hello, and introduced Dee to Chrissie, a young blonde who would be giving her a manicure and pedicure. He gave Chrissie a special bottle of nail polish and told her to give it back to him personally when she was done; no one else was to get Dee’s color even if they asked for it. It made her feel pretty good to have an exclusive shade all her own.

Chrissie did a great job. And just like always, getting a pedicure really helped Dee relax. In fact, she almost fell asleep when Chrissie was rubbing lotion into her soles. Or maybe more than almost. She closed her eyes for what seemed like a moment, but then Chrissie tapped her shoulder and she opened her eyes and saw that her finger and toenails were now a deep wine color, with a shimmering topcoat that was almost black. Chrissie told her she was finished, and brought her to another part of the salon to wait in a chair.

At the second station, a new girl named Tawny gave her a mild facial. A full treatment would have left her skin red and puffy and it might not have been back to normal by Sunday, so she only got a deep cleansing and moisturizing without the active exfoliation that normally came with it.

Instead of another assistant, this time Dee was taken care of by someone she knew. Tomas came over and gave her a friendly greeting before trying to explain what he’d be doing to her hair. Dee didn’t have the vocabulary to understand all of it, but the gist was that he gave her highlights a touchup, and then set it to add a little more body, and finally gave her a cut into a slightly different style. When he finished, he gave Dee strict orders not to wash her hair in the next two days; it would be easier to style if her natural oils were still in it.

Oscar Night - Conclusion by Jennifer Brock A year ago in the story, but about a year and a half in our time, this story began when novelist/screenwriter David Fine attended the Academy Awards wearing a red suit that his friend fashion designer Claude Marsh had made for him, accompanied by fashion model Maritza Delgado. That night, an insult from a fashion journalist caused him to make the flippant comment that he'd wear a gown if he was nominated again. Since then, David and Maritza have fallen in love, moved in together, and he's made some changes in his wardrobe and appearance at her prodding. At Claude's prodding, David made even more changes, as they'd decided the only way to pull off wearing a dress at the ceremony and not look like a fool was to become as throroughly female as possible, even going as far as to make some surgical alterations. In this, the extra-large final installment of our story, we learn whether it was all worth it. Our action will begin on the day before the awards.

Part 21

Saturday morning, Kay got Dee out of bed early. She wasn’t allowed to take off her corset, so she could only wash a few strategic areas with a washcloth before tucking and taping things into place. Kay told her to dress casually, so she pulled on a lacy thong and a pair of faded jeans, and scooped up her boobs into a pretty fuchsia silk camisole top with a built-in shelf bra. Her feet went into knee-highs and then a fun pair of ostrich boots. She took a denim scrunchie and pulled her hair back into a ponytail. Her only makeup was a healthy coat of mascara and some lush lipstick the color of her top, and her only jewelry was a pair of gold triangular hoop earrings. After a couple drops of cologne and putting her stuff in a shoulder bag, she was ready to go.

It was really eerie how all of this had become second nature in so short a time. To think that it was only a month ago that Dee was David! In a little over a day, she’d be making her public debut, revealing the whole surprise to all of the Hollywood elite and a national television audience of millions. But it was pretty much too late to back out now. Dee did her best to tame the butterflies.

They only had time for a quick breakfast of juice and toast, and even had to take their coffee in travel mugs. Kay drove, which suited Dee fine; she was way too nervous anyway. She was so caught up in her own thoughts she wasn’t even paying attention to where they were going. Kay had to call her name twice to get her to realize they’d stopped.

They were at Claude’s studio. Dee was a little worried that everyone there would know her secret, and had to take a couple deep breaths before getting out of the car. If people were going to stare and point, there just wasn’t anything she could do about it, and she’d certainly be getting plenty of attention on the red carpet, so it would probably
be good practice. She flipped down the vanity mirror, made sure she didn’t have any lipstick on her teeth, and got out of the car. Slinging her bag on her shoulder, she tried to do a fierce strut, but lost focus and stumbled.

Kay noticed Dee’s trip and warned her, “That kind of literal faux pas cannot happen tomorrow. In heels that thin, you’ve got to be aware of any changes in your center of gravity, and compensate for them seamlessly. Like if someone were to hand you a solid gold statuette, it would be very disappointing if you suddenly fell forward. I imagine they’re quite heavy.” Kay smiled at her student.

Dee laughed a sweetly melodic sound. “Well, there’s little likelihood of that happening, but I’ll bear that in mind. I don’t think they’re solid gold, anyway. I’m pretty sure I read that they’re plated. But anyway, thanks for your optimism.”

That little exchange was enough to get Dee’s head back in the game. Kay really was good at her job. Her lessons were almost over, and she’d be sad to see Kay go. She hoped they’d keep in touch. She wondered if some day she’d be having a night out with the other former students, welcoming another newcomer into womanhood, as was done for her.

They walked in, and the place was bustling with activity. Vanessa was waiting for them at the door, and after giving them a warm greeting she flipped her phone open and hit a button. She simply said, “They’re here,” and then closed her phone.

A few seconds later, Claude came out and met them. “Wow. Even just standing there, in what I’m guessing is your idea of ‘dressing down,’ you look breathtaking. I only hope my creation is worthy of such a model.”

Dee blushed, and thanked Claude for the compliment. She greeted him with a warm hug, which probably wasn’t what David would have done, but it felt right. He definitely would have skipped the kiss on the cheek.

Claude brought them forward into the room. He stood on a stool and called his minions to attention. “All right, people! A major project is about to come to its fruition, and this lovely lady here is an important part of that. I don’t want any premature leaks to the press, so if I catch anyone trying to snap a picture of her with a phone, they will be fired on the spot. Vanessa and I will be working on her in my private office, and I don’t want to be disturbed. If it’s absolutely life-or-death important, buzz Vanessa’s phone and she’ll come out to see if it’s worth getting me. My phone will be off, so don’t bother calling, unless you simply adore my voice mail message. Okay, now get back to work!” He hopped down and led them to his office in the back.

There were a couple of folding screens set up, dividing the space. Claude stood over by one of them, and made Kay and Dee close their eyes. When he told them to open them, he’d moved one of the screens out of the way, and had rolled out a dress on a stand, and slowly spun it around so they could get a full view.

It was a beautiful deep red satin sleeveless creation, with a deep U-shaped neckline that exposed a fair amount of the headless mannequin’s cleavage. Vertical seams started just below the bust, and continued down along the tight waist, to flare out as pleats at the hips, puffed out with a crinoline lining. The skirt was shorter in front than in back. The mannequin didn’t have any legs, so Dee couldn’t be sure, but it looked like it would land somewhere around knee-length in the front, and fall to around mid-calf in back.

Dee realized why he was showing it to them, and her eyes opened wide. “Is that my dress for tomorrow? It’s very lovely. You’ve outdone yourself.”

Claude was proud of his masterpiece. “Thanks. I hope you recognized the color — it’s the same shade I put you in last year. I thought about using the exact same fabric, but I couldn’t make that heavier wool work as a gown. And actually, it’s your dress for today, too. We’ll be spending the day fitting you into it, and doing any alterations that are needed. Even though, as you can see, we used that casting that was taken of your body as a form, the real you has probably changed a little since then, and we want to get it perfect.”

Dee had almost forgotten about that casting. So that’s what that “headless mannequin” really was. Was that really her figure? It looked way too curvaceous. Sure she had boobs, but the rest of her body usually still felt square and boyish. The body this dress was wearing seemed much more feminine than hers ever did. But if it was made from that mold they made of her body, it would have to be. Did she dare think of herself as that sexy?

Claude told her to get undressed so she could try on her gown. He even had some special foundation garments for her, so she needed to take off everything. Dee got embarrassed and wanted a little privacy, so he said she could go behind the screen in the corner. Claude was amazed at how naturally female her reaction was. Even though he’d seen the photos and videos that Kay had emailed with her progress reports, it was still hard to believe. David had never been what you’d call a macho guy, but Kay had turned Dee into such a thoroughly feminine creature that Claude worried that maybe his plan had gone a little too far.

Dee needed Kay and Vanessa to go behind the screen and assist her in changing, which confused Claude even more. He’d seen David nude before, when he’d brought him to his health club for a game of squash or a steam, and he was never that shy. But now that Dee was a woman, she didn’t want Claude to see her, even though her private parts were the ones he’d already seen. Was it the breasts she didn’t want to show? He’d been working with a life-size silicone replica for weeks, plus she knew he was gay. Claude found it strange, but fascinating.

The girls helped Dee out of her cotton corset, but she didn’t get more than an instant of relief. It was replaced with a strapless black satin corset that like her other one scooped around the bottom edge of her breasts and left them exposed. But this time Vanessa pulled more of her flesh out above the underwire, to make her boobs seem even bigger.

Unlike her cotton corset, which was threaded with what were essentially extra-long shoelaces, the satin one was laced with a strong leather thong. Vanessa actually used some kind of tool to ratchet it tighter than the laces could have been pulled by hand, and as Dee gave one last exhale, she tightened it to the maximum and then crimped the ends together with a metal fastener.

Dee had to sit down and adjust her breathing so she wouldn’t hyperventilate. While she was seated, Vanessa took advantage of the opportunity and unrolled sheer black silk stockings up her legs, attaching them to the garters on her corset. Then she slipped Dee’s feet into a pretty pair of satin sandals with four-inch stiletto heels. Crisscrossing bands that seemed to be covered in the same fabric as her dress covered the vamp, and a thin ankle strap held it onto her foot.

Vanessa took Dee’s hand to help her stand up and then took a step back and looked at her with an appraising eye. She flipped through a pile of lingerie on a work table and pulled out a black satin bra for Dee to try on. It was her first push-up bra, and fastened in the front, which was a good thing since her corset impaired her flexibility. Dee was shocked to look down and see serious cleavage; her boobs were mashed together and making a deep vertical crevice. Vanessa adjusted the buckles on her bra straps to make it tight, and then showed Dee how to pull her breasts into the cups for maximum effect.

She led Dee over to a full-length mirror, and it looked like her boobs had doubled in size! She’d known what a push-up bra could do in the abstract, but it was completely different to see it in action on oneself! The power of her cleavage was so captivating that she couldn’t stop staring at her reflection. They were implants, squashed with padding, so they were doubly fake, but that didn’t make them any less compelling.

Vanessa brought Claude over to look, and he tilted his head one way, then the other, and scratched his chin. He pulled a different black satin push-up bra from the pile and told her to try that one instead. Vanessa immediately unhooked the first one, and Dee blushed and tried to cover herself. Claude chuckled to himself and turned his head away.

This second bra had hooks in the back, so Dee enlisted Kay’s help in getting it fastened. These push-up pads were tilted at a different angle than the other ones, so it made her enhanced cleavage more heart-shaped than straight vertical. Claude said it made her chest look less like a buttcrack, so they should go with that one.

Vanessa took the dress off the mannequin, and Dee was a little embarrassed to see the naked casting of her body, with its proudly erect nipples. Her own were getting a little stimulated from all the handling her breasts had been getting, so she tried not to think about it, and will them into submission.

They didn’t want to pull the gown over her head, since they wanted to simulate how it would go on her on the real day, when they wouldn’t want to risk mussing her hair or makeup. So they arranged the gown open on the floor and she had to step into it, being careful not to catch her heel on anything. Vanessa pulled it up her body and put her arms through the sleeves, and then Claude zipped it up.

He didn’t want to catch her hair in the zipper, so he stopped halfway. He took the scrunchie out and let her ponytail out, then regathered her hair higher on her head, put the scrunchie back in, and folded her hair over into a bun. Then he finished zipping her up.

Dee thought it looked perfect, but Claude and Vanessa went around just about every inch, making little chalk marks and sticking the dress (and sometimes Dee) with pins. They were pretty much ignoring her, except when she moved when they didn’t want her to, or when they wanted her to move, to see how it hung when she walked, or sat down, or stood up from sitting. They wouldn’t even let her talk, so she just made eye contact with Kay and tried to communicate through slight facial expressions.

Eventually they finished making notes and unzipped her, and took the dress over to a worktable. She was allowed to sit down again, and gave her a short kimono robe when she asked if she could get dressed. Then she got to sit and wait while it looked like Vanessa and Claude took the whole dress apart. They ripped out seams, and cut some pieces smaller, cut other new pieces out of raw fabric, brought some parts over to a steamer to remove pleats, and others to a press to get new ones. And there was a lot of sewing, some by hand, some by machine.

After an amount of time that was probably a couple hours but felt like weeks, they had the dress reassembled and looking as far as Dee could tell exactly like it looked before. She had to take off her robe and step into the dress again, and this time it did fit a little better. It was tight, but not too tight, like it was exactly the shape of her body. (Well, her body minus a bit where her waist was corseted, plus a bit where her bust was padded.)

They had her walk around the room and do a couple catwalk turns, and Claude wasn’t quite satisfied that it was dramatic enough. He wanted to raise the angle of the hemline so it came a good six inches above her knee in front, to almost that much past her knee in the back. He also wanted to swap the dyed-to-match crinoline for black. And to draw more attention away from her wide shoulders, he wanted to lower the neckline almost to her bra cups.

It sounded almost a little too risqué for Dee’s taste, and she needed reassurance from Claude that he was going to keep her outfit looking tasteful. He tried to just dismiss her worries, but she grew more concerned and tried to make it clear that she was already taking major chances and he’d promised her that she’d look glamorous on the red carpet. The previous year he’d put David in a “pimp suit,” and she didn’t want to end up looking like one of the pimp’s stable of “hos.”

Dee got so anxious that she started hyperventilating, and Kay had to rush to calm her down so she didn’t pass out. She made Claude listen seriously to Dee’s questions. He went back to desk and pulled out his scrapbook of past Oscar gowns. He showed her that many of the classy actresses wore dresses with low scooping décolletage. Dee pointed out, however, that none of them were also showing off a lot of leg; most of the hemlines reached the ground.

Claude showed her a few ladies that did attend the awards in knee-length dresses, but none of them seemed to say “Hollywood Glamour” to her. There were some elegant actresses showing off their legs, but it was generally via a long gown with a high slit. Claude thought about it, then got out his sketch pad and roughed out a longer skirt.

He said, “Ordinarily, I wouldn’t make these kinds of changes at the last minute. But since I love you like a brother, er, sister, er, sibling of some sort, I’ll do what I can to ease your worries. I’ll keep my idea for bringing the neckline down, but I’ll also lower the hemline. I won’t drop my concept of the angled skirt, and I think the view through to a black crinoline will be interesting, but I’ll bring it down in back far enough to almost kiss the carpet, and in front I’ll bring it down to just past your knee, around here.” He touched a spot on Dee’s leg. “Would that make you feel better?”

Dee nodded. “I think so, but do you really have the time to make such major changes? Making it longer would mean like cutting whole new pieces, right? Do you even have enough of the right fabric?”

“I bought plenty of this silk, in anticipation for when your gown is the talk of the town. And I also have this awesome computer-controlled laser cutter machine. I’ll give Vanessa the rough dimensions, and she’ll go into the console where we’ve got the pattern saved, and extend it to the new measurements, then tell one of my burlier minions to load the bolt of this silk into the cutter and tell it to go. It shouldn’t take much more than an hour to get all the pieces cut. You just sit there and wait.”

Dee had to stand still while they brought a measuring tape over to her and noted how much each of the panels of the skirt would need to be increased, and then Kay helped her out of her gown and back into her robe while Vanessa and Claude went over the numbers. Dee interrupted to ask when they’d be stopping for lunch. Claude laughed and apologized for being rude. He was just so used to models who were satisfied with a bottle of water and a smoke break that he hadn’t even thought about getting Dee lunch. Kay volunteered to go get takeout and bring it back. Claude and Vanessa both wanted sandwiches, but Dee was still too nervous and corseted to eat a whole lot so she asked for just some kind of light salad.

It was fascinating watching them work. They ripped all the seams out of the skirt panels from the dress, pressed out the pleats, and then chalked new dimensions on the pieces themselves. As they worked at the computer, Dee considered what they were doing as a sort of textile engineering. There was actually a lot of math involved, since the skirt flared out at an angle and finished off with a curve. They adjusted the dimensions on all the pieces in their pattern, and then “sewed them together” virtually on the screen to see if it made the right shape.

Lunch arrived while they were still working out the details, and Dee held off eating until Vanessa and Claude were ready, and they wanted to wait until they were done on the computer. A couple of bits needed a little tweaking, but then Vanessa went to take the instructions to the cutting machine. Dee wanted to go watch the cool machine, but Claude wouldn’t let her leave his office. At least it had an attached bathroom.

Vanessa came back with the freshly cut new panels while Dee was on her potty break. She would have been finished faster if she hadn’t refastened her garters twice. It may have been more convenient with them running under her panties, but it just didn’t look right. She also had to take a moment at the mirror to fix her lipstick and fiddle with her hair.

The sewing went fairly quickly, considering that they had thirty seams to stitch together and then crease into pleats. It was a little monotonous to watch, though. Kay and Dee killed time reading through some of the fashion trade magazines that had accumulated in Claude’s office. Dee hit upon an article about a Milan fashion show, and right in the middle there was a photo of Maritza.

That seemed to summon a whole new swarm of butterflies in her tummy. In only one day, she was going to see her girlfriend again! At least, she hoped Maritza was still her girlfriend. She was a beautiful, sexy model and had been mingling among beautiful, sexy people for a month — maybe she’d found someone new. Or maybe she’d take one look at Dee and throw her to the curb. Maritza had been very gung-ho about David’s becoming more feminine, but what if that was just a fantasy for her and the reality of it would turn her off? What if she wasn’t attracted to Dee any more?

Kay saw the color leaving Dee’s face, and slid over on the couch. She reached out and took Dee’s hand by the wrist, checking her pulse with a finger. “Honey, your heart is racing. You’ve got to calm down. I know tomorrow’s a big day, but you have mastered everything I’ve thrown at you. Believe me when I say you will do flawlessly tomorrow.”

Dee flopped her head over onto Kay’s shoulder. “Thanks for your confidence, but that’s not exactly what’s got me worrying this time.” She sighed. “I’d tell you, but it’s against your rules. I’m not supposed to think about my life before.”

Kay stroked her hand. “I don’t really think we’re going to have any more lessons between now and tomorrow morning, so there isn’t much I could do if you broke my rules now. Besides, we’ve got your best friend right here, so I already broke my rules. I think you can start reconnecting with your life. I’m pretty sure it won’t reverse any of the progress you’ve made. The feminine persona you’ve created runs fairly deep — I’ll bet you’ve even stopped thinking of yourself in male terms. So what’s bothering you, D?”

She gestured at the magazine. “There was an article in there with a picture of Maritza, and it got me worrying that maybe she wouldn’t like the new me as much as she thought she would when she talked me into doing this. What am I going to do if she doesn’t want me anymore?”

Kay brushed a tear that was running down Dee’s cheek. “You are a wonderful person, beautiful inside and out. If she doesn’t want you any more, she’s a fool, and I’m sure you’ll have no difficulty finding suitors of either gender to replace her, if it came to it.”

Claude called from the other side of the room. “Pardon me for eavesdropping, but you’ve got nothing to worry about. If anything, Maritza is more nuts about you than ever.”

Dee sniffled. “But how do you know?”

“I know large-breasted women have a reputation for intellectual inferiority, so maybe something about carrying around a pair lowers your IQ. Maritza has been staying with me; remember? I’ve been sharing Kay’s progress reports on you with her, and she practically drools over every photo we’ve been sent. She’s printed one and has it in a frame on her nightstand. And then there’s the videos! She’s watched them all dozens of times. You don’t even want to know what I caught her doing to that one where you’re wiggling your hips in an ultra-miniskirt.” Claude thought for a moment. “Well, actually you probably do want to know, but I’m not going to tell you. Use your imagination.”

Dee’s face broke into a very broad smile as she did just that. She was so relieved that Maritza still found her new shape attractive that she didn’t waste any energy on feeling violated that Kay had been sending things to Claude without telling her. Claude was the one paying for it, so it made some kind of sense even if she still should have let Dee know about it. She made a mental note to get upset about it once her joy wore off.

Dee could barely contain herself and ran over to give Claude a little squeeze and a kiss on the cheek in appreciation for letting her know. Maritza liked the look of David as a woman! That was great news; especially since Dee wasn’t sure she’d being going back any time soon, if at all. Femininity seemed to fit too well to just give it all up, and it was also a hell of a lot of fun. Although apparently waiting around for a dress fitting could be boring. She considered asking why they had to wait until the day before the awards show to do this, but maybe it was Kay’s fault, since by her rules Dee wasn’t allowed to have contact with Claude.

She felt stupid for not asking sooner, and asked if there was something she could do to help them work on the dress. It was frustrating sitting around idle while watching people being industrious. Unfortunately, Claude said that it would take longer to explain to her what was needed than it would to do it himself. She had to go back and sit on the couch and wait. Dee really wished that like Kay she’d brought a book in her purse.

For the lack of anything better to do, Dee borrowed a pen and a pad of paper and started working on an acceptance speech. Her chance of needing one was very slim but since she didn’t have anything better to do, it couldn’t hurt to have something prepared, just in case. It also got her mind completely focused, so she lost track of what was happening in the rest of the room. It was refreshing to know that she could still get into that writing zone and just tune out all the distractions.

Dee was working for a while when she had a weird feeling and looked up. Kay was staring at her. “What?”

Kay just shook her head. “Your body language just seems so natural. The way you were cradling that notepad in the crook of your elbow instead of just holding it in your hand was perfect, even though I never showed you to do that. And in the moment of intense thought you just had, when you twirled your finger in your hair and chewed on your lower lip a little it was absolutely adorable! Your feminine instincts are amazing. I’m wondering if you really needed me at all.”

Dee set down her pad and leaned over to give Kay a hug. “Oh I definitely needed you! There’s no way I wouldn’t be panicking about this thing if you hadn’t taught me everything I needed to fit into the world of women as easily as I will fit into that dress that they’re making over there, customized to every one of my measurements. You have helped me so much, and I will truly miss you when you’re done with me tomorrow.”

Kay felt a tear roll down her cheek. “Oh, I may be moving back to my own place, but I doubt I’ll be done with you forever. Our relationship is more than just professional. I’m not that far away in Pasadena. When you get your phone back I’ll give you my number, and we can get together some time. Most of my students don’t get the 24/7 treatment, so I usually have free time.” She hugged Dee tightly for a moment before releasing her. “So I’m sure that our goodbye tomorrow won’t be forever.”

Claude interrupted their moment. It was time for another fitting. He made Dee go wash her face so she wouldn’t get any salt stains on her gown. She could tell there was obviously more dress this time, even when just stepping into it. The longer skirt needed a little more arranging after Vanessa zipped her up, but it did look much better. Claude had to admit that the shorter hem would have made the visible crinoline lining look a little too “Moulin Rouge,” but on the fuller skirt it brought that air of mystery he was looking for.

There was another round of pins and chalk marks, and Vanessa spent a good amount of time pushing Dee’s boobs around, trying to ensure that her gown was revealing the ideal amount of cleavage without going too far. She said that they’d try a different bra on Sunday, and that she might end up needing to use an adhesive to prevent any wardrobe malfunctions. Dee was unzipped from her dress and she got back into her robe and returned to the couch to wait.

She went back to fiddling with her speech, and soon dropped back into the zone, tuning the rest of them out. So she had no idea how much time had passed when Claude told her they were ready for her to try again. This time around, Vanessa slipped some little pads shaped like squashed footballs into her bra cups first, and tried a few different positions before being satisfied. It felt very weird for Dee to be groped by a cute girl, and not feel any kind of stimulation. Kay’s tea was working its magic on her — she hoped it would wear off in time when Maritza came home on Sunday. She blushed at where her mind was wandering, and hoped they didn’t notice.

Her gown now fit perfectly, and in the full-length mirror it looked beautiful! The fuller skirt made her feel like a fairy tale princess, while its raised front edge showed her pretty shoes and made her less afraid of tripping. She wasn’t exactly comfortable with showing off her boobs so much, but the whole point of getting them was so they could be shown off. Dee would just have to get used to it.

She twirled around happily, enjoying the way her gown moved. Claude had her slow down and perform a more fashionable turn so she could check out how her dress looked from all angles. She was very satisfied, and tried to give Claude a big hug in appreciation, but he backed away so the gown wouldn’t wrinkle. She had to wait for Vanessa to unzip her and gently remove her dress, and then she threw her arms around Claude and gave him a big hug and a kiss.

Claude got really embarrassed, even though he’d been around models in their underwear before. But somehow since this woman was really his friend David it was weird to have her/him embrace him while wearing only lingerie. It seemed to cross a line. He hurried to fetch Dee’s robe and wrapped her up in it, but then she realized that if they were done trying on the gown she could get dressed in her street clothes again, so she took it off immediately. Claude tried to hide.

Dee asked Kay to unlace her corset so she could change, but it had been sealed up tightly with no free ends. Vanessa brought over a special pair of scissors (she said they were strong enough to cut a penny) and carefully snipped the leather thong, without damaging the corset or injuring Dee. She said that she’d make sure to leave a pair of scissors like those at Dee’s place for when she got home Sunday night. Maritza would have to cut her out of her undergarments.

Dee gave Vanessa back the bra and then put her top back on. Her body really enjoyed being able to breathe again so she took a moment to just deeply fill her lungs a few times. She was done having her hair up all day, so the scrunchie came out and she shook her head until her chestnut waves hung loosely. She sat down and took her shoes off, then gently unrolled her stockings and returned them. She pulled up her knee-highs and then got back into her jeans. Lastly, she got her boots back on and grabbed her purse.

Since it would be Kay’s last night as her guest, Dee thought she’d make a special dinner, and invited Claude and Vanessa to share it with them. Claude not only turned down her offer, but also told her that she couldn’t have a big meal. She should eat something light, like soup. They couldn’t take any chances that she’d gain any weight before her debut. Dee thought that he was being silly, but agreed to humor him. She did promise to have them all over for dinner some time in the following week, everyone’s schedule permitting.

Claude’s further instructions were that she take a long, relaxing bath after eating, but to wear a shower cap to keep her hair from getting wet, and then go to sleep early. She needed to be well-rested for the cameras. When she was ready for bed, he wanted Kay to lace her into a clean one of her cotton corsets. She could choose her own nightgown.

They were to come back to the studio in the morning at the same time again, but she was only allowed to have coffee for breakfast. Dee could wear whatever clothing she wanted, but no makeup at all, and he didn’t even want her to have any deodorant on. She asked if she could wear her own perfume, and he said not to, but she could bring a bottle of her scent and apply it later.

Dee was a good girl and did as she was told. When they got home, she heated up some homemade chicken soup from the freezer. Kay told her that it was delicious enough that Dee hadn’t needed to do something extra-fancy for their last meal alone together. Kay even thanked her by cleaning up when they were finished. She told Dee that she’d been an excellent hostess for the past month.

Kay also had a surprise for her before her bath. They’d be using a restraint with a stronger adhesive than her usual tape on Sunday, and it would attach a little higher. And it needed a smooth surface, so she gave Dee a bikini wax to remove her little patch of hair. She did her best to make it hurt as little as possible, but it still stung. Dee was grateful to slip into a tubful of warm water infused with moisturizing bath oil and playful bubbles.

Dee was way too nervous and excited to relax, even though Kay had given her an extra-soothing cup of herbal tea. She ran her hands along her breasts as they tried to hide beneath the bubbles. It was strange how they seemed like a normal part of her body, in such a short time. Would other surgeries feel just as natural? While her left hand continued to idly stroke her nipple, she ran her right hand down her body and asked herself some questions. What would it feel like if she got her waist tucked in there and there, so she wouldn’t need that awful corset anymore? Or what if she got some kind of implants or injections to round out her hips, or even got her butt inflated somehow, would that feel sexy or just weird?

She brought her hand around, down below her newly smooth and tender spot, and tried not to let her mind go there. But her curiosity was in control; whether she wanted to or not, she couldn’t help trying to imagine what it would be like if she did some remodeling down there. How would it feel if her panties could fit her snugly all the way around, with no unsightly bulges or things that needed to be tucked out of the way? What would it be like if that part there were shrunk down into just a little button of a thing, and those were gone, so this here was just a soft pair of lips?

If there were another entrance into her body, would it feel like it belonged there, or would she mourn for that which was missing? That the idea didn’t horrify her came as a surprise, and she promised herself to think about it some more in the future, when she was no longer taking libido suppressors and those parts would be able to voice an opinion on the subject. She probably ought to get Maritza’s vote on the matter, too. But for the moment they were just in the way, so she made sure everything was clean down there and then put it all out of her mind.

Dee just concentrated on slowing her breathing down to a calmer pace, and enjoyed the nice floral scent of her bath oil. She was tempted to slide down until she was completely covered by water, but that wasn’t allowed since she wasn’t supposed to get her hair wet. Almost all her sore muscles had released their tension by the time Kay came to put her to bed one last time, in matching white cotton panties, corset and long nightie. Kay brushed her hair for her and gave her a little kiss on the forehead before tucking her in.

Dee had a bizarre dream where she was immensely pregnant. Claude was trying to calm her down and she was shrieking at him that it was all his fault. There was a tremendous ripping sound as her genitals split in half, and a lot of blood and disgusting stuff poured out and finally a baby. Kay, in a nurse’s outfit, caught the baby and handed it to her. Dee looked down at a miniature version of herself dressed up in a pretty red dress. “Congratulations! It’s a girl!” The shock of it actually woke Dee up, but with some difficulty she was able to get back to sleep.

***

Morning came too quickly. Dee almost felt hung over. She lazily got dressed in green striped panties and a blue tank dress. Since apparently her chest had finished healing, she went braless just to see what it would feel like. That was a mistake; they bounced around all over the place, and it was no fun whatsoever. She also skipped hose and wore a pair of leather gladiator sandals with two-inch heels, almost the lowest shoes in her wardrobe. It was annoying that she wasn’t allowed to wear makeup, since she didn’t know how many of Claude’s workers would be there. She put on her sunglasses so her face wouldn’t be completely naked.

Kay met her in the kitchen for a quick breakfast of orange juice and coffee. She warned Dee that she wouldn’t be spending all day hanging out with her at Claude’s like she did the day before. She’d stay until Dee was dressed, but not much longer after that. Kay had seen the schedule they’d planned for Dee, and it kept her pretty busy through until just before the awards ceremony. Dee was disappointed, but understood. It must have been very boring for Kay on Saturday just sitting there for all those hours during Dee’s fitting session. It was just sad that her nearly constant companion for these past weeks would be leaving sooner. They finished their drinks, shared a hug, and then hit the road.

Claude had been nervously waiting by the door for them, so he wasted no time as soon as they arrived. He ushered Dee to a dressing room where Vanessa had everything ready for her. Kay picked up a bottle and a triangular piece of fabric, and asked the others to give them some privacy. She explained that Claude and she had discussed ways of making sure none of Dee’s surprises were prematurely revealed if she were to accidentally fall on the red carpet, or if a particularly evil paparazzo managed to get an upskirt view as she got out of the car.

He had shown Kay how he’d keep models in his runway shows from getting visible “camel-toes” when showing lingerie or swimwear collections. They’d attach this piece of thick flesh-tone moleskin with spirit gum along the edges to cover their genital area, and it would smooth out the contours. Kay had made a couple of alterations so it would better serve Dee’s needs. First, she’d made it a little longer so it could be firmly attached to Dee’s perineum. Second, she’d put a small hole in it so that Dee would still be able to urinate with it in place, if necessary. Kay had needed to argue with Claude for that feature. He was used to making his models endure discomfort. The other change she made was to switch from spirit gum to a stronger medical adhesive. She assured Dee that there was a bottle of the solvent she’d need to take it off back at home in her bathroom.

Kay had Dee remove her dress and panties and sit on a stool with her legs spread. As requested, Dee hadn’t done a tuck and tape when she’d dressed, so she was feeling very naked and vulnerable. Kay donned a pair of rubber gloves and then set to work Dee tried not to pay attention to what was happening, and just looked up at the ceiling until Kay announced she was finished. Dee stood up and could feel that parts were being squished and squashed, but in the mirror it all looked as smooth and featureless as a mannequin.

Kay helped her into the panties they’d set out for her, a black tanga-cut pair made almost entirely of soft lace. Despite their sheerness, once they’d been pulled into place nothing looked at all out of the ordinary. They’d done such a good match with the color of the moleskin that it just looked like bare skin beneath the lace. And there were absolutely no clues that male parts were concealed inside.

She signaled that they were okay for Vanessa and Claude to come back. Dee sat on her stool with her arms crossed, keeping her breasts covered. It was time for Dee to take the last deep breaths she’d be getting for a while, as Vanessa brought out the corset from the day before (or one exactly like it.) She aligned the cutouts in the front with Dee’s breasts and made her hold it in place while she wrapped it around her and laced it up with a leather thong again. She also brought out her fancy tool for tightening the laces, and when she was satisfied that it was as tight as possible, she crimped the metal clamp onto the ends, then trimmed off the excess.

Vanessa next helped Dee into her bra. It was another black satin push-up bra with lace trim, but this one had the cups at a different angle than either of the other two she’d tried, so her breasts were forced together to form a nicely shaped cleavage. Once the bra was in place, Vanessa pulled Dee’s breasts as far up as possible, and treated the cups with an adhesive to keep them from slipping. It wasn’t quite as strong as what Kay had used; she told Dee that she probably wouldn’t need a solvent to get her bra off.

Dee was wrapped in a tiny kimono again, and led to a seat in front of a mirror. Tomas appeared and greeted her with a warm smile. One of his assistants was pushing a wheeled case behind him with their implements.

He gave her an air kiss hello. “I’m here to do your hair for tonight. I apologize that Jeffrey couldn’t be here to do your makeup; he had other clients who need to look pretty for the big show tonight. But lucky for you Claude was able to get Solange to agree to do you. Isn’t that wonderful?” The way he paused after the name made it seem like he expected Dee to recognize it, but she didn’t. She just smiled and let him set to work on her hair.

Claude showed Tomas The Dress where it was hanging across the room, and showed him some sketches of what he’d been thinking of for her hairstyle. Tomas came back at him with some ideas of his own, and grabbed a pencil and made his own sketch. Claude then erased part of his drawing and changed it, and then Tomas came back with some changes of his own. This went on for a while, as they argued with descriptions and terms that just weren’t in Dee’s vocabulary.

Finally they settled on a plan. Tomas told his assistant to prep the big rollers. He brushed out Dee’s hair, making sure there weren’t any tangles or split ends. He didn’t find much, and complimented her on her good hair care regimen. When her hair was all smooth and pretty and shiny, he ruined it by spraying a fine mist of mostly water from a spray bottle, until it got fairly damp. Then he had her lean forward, as he started rolling her hair onto big heated curlers, starting from the back. When she finally was allowed to lift her head back, she saw in the mirror that her head was just covered in rollers. She felt like a housewife from the fifties.

While Dee sat there waiting for her curls to set, Tomas had his assistant check her fingers and toes to see if any of her color needed a touch-up. There was a chip on her left pinky toe that needed to be fixed, so she had to take off her shoe and get a foam separator thing shoved between her toes. The girl (Dee never got her name) actually stripped all the polish off of her toe and started over with a fresh basecoat, two layers of color, and then a shiny topcoat. They didn’t want to take the time to wait for every coat to dry naturally, so Tomas actually made her wave a hairdryer at Dee’s toe so it would go faster.

He took the rollers out of her hair when they had cooled down, and she ended up with curls on her head. Tomas said that the body wave they’d given her on Friday just wasn’t dramatic enough, and she had to agree. Dee was so tempted to just spin her head back and forth to watch the curls bounce, but he wouldn’t let her. Sadly, some of her pretty curls would not be allowed to bounce free. From her forehead to just above her ears, he pulled her hair taut along her scalp and secured it along the crown of her head in a fancy kind of braid shape held together with hidden pins. She worried that he was going to that all the way down, but he told her they’d decided to give her a “partial updo,” and leave the back half of her hair hanging loose. Dee giggled that it almost looked like a mullet from the front, but the back did look very impressive and reminded her of other hairstyles she’d seen on starlets on the red carpet. Tomas really did know what he was doing.

When her hair was done, Dee got to take a restroom break. She’d gone while tucked and taped up before, but in her new restraint it felt weird. She knew those parts were still there, but she couldn’t even see them. All that was there was a little hole. She wiped very carefully to keep the moleskin dry, more of a delicate blotting actually. Dee was very nervous, but at least she was sure she’d pass as believably female. The person looking back at her from the mirror as she washed her hands was definitely a woman, with very pretty hair.

When she returned to her seat she was introduced to Solange. She was a tall, slender woman with a flawless bronze complexion, slightly almond-shaped eyes and wavy jet-black hair pulled back in a bun held together with ivory chopsticks. Dee could not figure out her ethnicity, and her vaguely French accent didn’t help. She explained, “Now Claude has told me you aren’t a professional model or actress used to having someone else do your makeup, so I will try to be patient with you. But you must do exactly as I say. Okay?”

Dee nodded and said she’d do her best. Solange had her take out her earrings and then she started by thoroughly cleansing Dee’s skin with a fairly strong astringent. Dee winced as it stung, and earned a reprimand. Solange wanted her to sit as still as possible, without talking or fidgeting. She followed the cleansing with a soothing moisturizer, even going down her throat to the visible part of her breasts. She told Dee to relax her face and put on as blank an expression as possible, to try thinking of an empty cardboard box if necessary.

Like an artist, combined pigments until she got the exact color she wanted for Dee’s foundation, and mixed it up on the spot. She used mostly organic mineral colorants, in a base that should set and last all day through hot lights without running. She used bits of natural sea sponge to apply it, blending lighter and darker tones along the way to highlight and contour where needed.

Solange asked Dee, “So tell me; what color are your lover’s eyes?”

It was a weird question, but without thinking too much she very easily pictured Maritza’s face. “Big and brown and beautiful,” she sighed.

“I need to find your cheeks, so I want you to think of those eyes and smile for me.”

Dee almost did it without being asked. She could feel her whole face beaming. She was in love with a wonderful person, and she’d be seeing her soon!

“Very good.” Solange put a few more colors on her palette and blended them onto Dee’s cheeks, and feathered a little into her cleavage. “Alright, I need you to go blank again. Focus back on that cardboard box.” She tipped Dee’s head back and squirted two drops from a little bottle into each eye, had her close her eyes and then brought her head back upright.

Dee could feel the applicator on her lids, and could tell she was getting eye shadow. It seemed backwards to her since she’d always done liner first, then mascara, then shadow. But Solange was a professional, so she must know what she was doing. It seemed like a fairly complicated eye shadow too, based on the number of passes across her lids she was taking. She felt the unmistakable brush of a mascara wand across her lashes several times before she was told to open her eyes.

Solange brushed mascara onto the inside of her lashes, top and bottom, and then used an eyelash curler on all four sets of lashes. There must have been something special in the mascara because the curl really held. Her lashes looked long and thick and amazing. Dee barely had time to catch a glance of herself in the mirror before she had to tilt her head back and look up.

There must have been some kind of anesthetic in the eyedrops she’d given Dee, because she could barely feel it when Solange brushed on eyeliner right against the edge of her lids. She painted on a thin line of white inside a thin line of black, and it made Dee’s eyes really pop!

To finish out the eye area, she applied a brown powder to Dee’s eyebrows and combed it in. She also decided that there were a few hairs that needed to be tweezed, and a couple that she merely trimmed shorter with a tiny pair of scissors. Solange seemed satisfied with everything so far, so she went over her entire face with a powder that she said would hold it all in place when it set up, and add a little extra luster when the bright lights hit her skin. She even powdered all the way down into her exposed cleavage.

She used a damp sponge to clean off any powder that inadvertently got on her mouth, and then had Dee keep her blank expression but open her mouth slightly. With a fine paintbrush, she began to put a deep red color onto Dee’s lips, just a shade brighter than her dress. Solange had Dee purse her lips into a pucker so she could blot them a couple of times. When she was satisfied with the color, she let it sit a minute then blotted again, and this time very little came off. She then went over it with a different brush and a very shiny gloss to go on top, which was also a longwearing variety. She promised Dee that as long as she didn’t do too much eating, drinking, or kissing, she shouldn’t need to reapply anything, but she’d give her a pot of color and gloss and a lip brush to carry in her bag just in case.

When she’d finished with Dee’s makeup, Solange called Tomas back over. He used a pick and pulled Dee’s bangs out of the updo and out onto her forehead, and gave them a quick press in his large-barreled curling iron so they had the right curve. He also pulled a lock of hair out of the bundle on each side of her head, and coiled those into tighter ringlets with a narrower curling iron. Tomas then sprayed her hair with a generous coat of hairspray, so nothing would get out of place.

They turned her so she could get a good look in the mirror. They’d done an incredible job! She’d considered herself kind of pretty before, but her reflection was that of a truly beautiful woman, whose face seemed to convey a combination of sultriness and doe-eyed innocence. Her eyes seemed larger than before, and really demanded attention. Their lids were smoky and sophisticated. Her face seemed to have changed shape; her cheekbones never seemed so pronounced before. And her glistening, full lips seemed to be asking to be kissed. She looked like something out of a magazine, but she wasn’t sure if that made her a supermodel or a centerfold. She practiced a few flirty expressions in the mirror.

Claude said she could have a lunch break, and brought her a can with a straw sticking out of it. It was a vitamin-enriched supplement that would provide enough nutrients to make sure she wouldn’t pass out from hunger, without bloating her out or causing any significant change in weight, so her dress would be certain to still fit. And the straw made sure its impact on her makeup would be minimal. Looking around the room as she sipped, Dee realized that Kay was no longer there. She hadn’t noticed when she’d left. She didn’t even say goodbye.

Vanessa put on white cotton gloves and rolled Dee’s stocking up her legs. They were sheer black and real silk. She put some adhesive on the tops so they wouldn’t sag even if one of Dee’s garters gave out. She slipped the fancy shoes she’d worn the day before onto her feet and buckled them up. Vanessa asked Dee if she’d brought a fragrance, and she fetched the perfume bottle from her purse for her.

She asked Dee to remove her robe, and then had her raise her arms over her head. She quickly cleaned her underarms with baby wipes, and then dry tissues, and finished up with a blast from an antiperspirant spray. Dee had to stand with her arms out until the spray dried. Vanessa then misted a cloud of her perfume and had her walk into it, then gave her a dab on each wrist, behind each ear, and between her breasts.

Vanessa gave her another bathroom break before it was time to put her dress on. But she wasn’t allowed to have her robe back so she had to walk across the room in her underwear and pretend not to notice all the people. It was much too embarrassing for Dee; she decided that she’d never cut it as a model. They have to let people see them in their underwear all the time. She finished her business and crossed that room again.

Claude had brought a few more of his assistants over to help get her into the dress. They held it spread out for her to step into, and then came together as Claude zipped her up, and then they all backed off. He led her to a full-length mirror. She felt like a teenage girl going to the prom, or a fairy-tale princess, or maybe even a bride with an unusually colored dress. It was difficult trying to accept that the glamorous beauty she was seeing was really her!

Claude wasn’t finished. He had her bend her head forward, and he hooked a pair of earrings onto her ears, and reached around behind her to fasten a necklace. They were matching brilliant teardrop-shaped red stones in gold fixtures. The weight on her ears made her think they might be real rubies and not fake ones. Claude asked if she recognized them; they were the same pieces he’d rented for Maritza the previous year, but he’d gone ahead and bought them, so this year Dee could keep them if she wanted to; she should consider them a gift in appreciation for going through with this whole project.

Dee gave him the best hug she could manage without smudging or wrinkling anything, and thanked him deeply for the jewels. She’d have to find a way to attend more formal events, to give her an excuse to wear her nice things.

Claude brought her to a room in his studio that was set up for doing photography sessions. He told Dee that he wanted to get some pictures of her in her gown in a controlled setting that he’d release to the press as soon as the Oscar broadcast began. He was sure that people would be talking about her and he wanted to control the story somewhat.

Dee asked if Claude would send a copy of that press release to Nadine a little in advance, so she could handle any questions and refer most of them to Claude’s people. Dee started worrying that doing such a major publicity stunt without notifying her publicist might not have been such a good idea.

She asked Claude if he knew when she’d be getting her phone back, and Tomas spoke up that he’d actually brought it with him. David’s boxes of stuff had been kept in their storeroom, and before Antoine came to pick them up that morning, he’d grabbed her phone for her, since he’d be seeing her first. He figured that if she won her Oscar, she’d want to be able to receive all the calls of congratulations from her friends and family.

Dee was happy to get her phone back, and it even looked like Tomas (or someone) had been nice enough to fully charge it for her. She had a bunch of voicemail messages, so she rushed through them quickly. The first one was a really cute message from Maritza saying she wanted to be the first thing David heard when he got his phone back. There was one from David’s publisher wishing him luck at the awards. But the rest were from Nadine. Mainly she was frustrated by David’s cutting off all contact right before a very high-publicity event, but she was also being pestered by people on Jane Waters’ staff. It felt like she was planning some more major humiliation for David to boost her ratings, and that had Nadine worried. Dee was hopeful that their plan for revenge on her would be successful in shutting her up.

She threw together a quick text to Nadine: “Sorry for being incommunicado for this past month. You’ll find out why shortly. I’ve been working on something that should get me some attention tonight. If you decide to quit working for me, I’ll understand; it was beyond rude of me to keep this from you. But if you will stay with me through what will possibly be some obnoxiously busy times, I promise that I will agree to whatever publicity gig you want me to work, with no complaints, even if you want me to do a book tour of the Deep South in August. Please don’t be too mad. —D”

Vanessa had put Dee’s perfume and the cosmetics Solange had given Dee for making emergency repairs in a clutch bag that matched her gown. When Dee finished her text and closed her phone she put it in the bag and Vanessa zipped it up. She introduced Dee to Roxanne, the photographer who’d be taking her picture. She was a wild-haired blonde, in maybe her late thirties or early forties, and either had excellent skin or was a master of the makeup technique that made it look like you weren’t wearing any. She was dressed in simple blue jeans and work boots and an unbuttoned bowling shirt over a pink tank, but she carried herself with an air of elegance.

Roxanne touched the side of her nose and winked. “Claude told me your secret, but from the way you look I’d never have been able to guess. You’ve never done this before, so I’ll help you through it, showing you exactly how I want you to pose. Before I got too old and had to retire, I used to work on the other side of the camera, so you can trust me.”
She smiled, but Dee wasn’t sure whether to be reassured or terrified.

Roxanne put her through a grueling number of poses, some with her straight on to the camera, some with her looking off to the side, and a couple even had her looking back over her shoulder, mostly with her standing, but Roxanne tried a few with her seated on a box, and one weird one with her jumping into the air. She also had her try each pose with a number of different facial expressions.

Dee used Solange’s trick of picturing Maritza’s eyes to smile, and she did okay at trying a “playful pout,” but she needed a lot of help when Roxanne wanted her to make a “sexy” expression. She tried copying the face Roxanne was making, with her eyes almost closed, and her mouth open a little, but it just wasn’t working. She had to start from scratch, and banish any sense of shame while trying to imagine that standing just to the left of the camera was someone she was aching for, that as soon as the picture was done her dress was going to hit the floor. After twelve tries or so, Roxanne was finally satisfied. Then she made her try the same poses in front of a different colored backdrop.

Tomas and Solange were on hand to fix her hair and makeup any time Roxanne made her muss it up for a shot, but Claude had to step out for a while to get dressed. He came back wearing an identical tuxedo to the one David had worn the year before. It really did look like a pimp suit. Dee had to laugh. But then he joined in the picture, and Roxanne had them in a number of different poses together. Most of them were straightforward, like the two of them facing the camera side by side, or facing each other, but then Roxanne got a little playful.

She had Dee take advantage of the extra height she had on Claude, especially in her heels, and made her bring her hand up behind his head and muss his hair while they were standing forward. Then she did one where they were posed as if they were waltzing, and then made Claude try to dip her. He couldn’t hold her up and Dee fell over laughing and pushed her skirt between her knees to avoid flashing anyone, but Roxanne might have snapped her picture quickly enough to catch a glimpse of garter.

Then there were some poses that made Dee really uncomfortable, where she had to kiss Claude. At first it was just a silly one, where Claude was rigid and facing the camera, while Dee leaned over puckered up and almost touched his cheek with her lips. Then it got a little wilder, where Roxanne unbuttoned Claude’s shirt and had Dee run her shiny nails across his chest while biting his ear. Roxanne wanted her to leave kiss prints on Claude’s face, but her lipstick was long-wearing and wouldn’t rub off. So she had Solange get some regular lipstick in the same color, and Roxanne wore it herself to cover Claude’s face with kisses. It was kind of fun for Dee to see him squirm. But it just got really weird when Roxanne wanted a pose where they were seriously embracing. Claude whispered an apology and kissed her as gently as he could, cradling her face in his hands. It was nice, but it was like kissing your brother or something, kind of weird.

At least they got to take a break after that to fix everyone’s makeup. Dee even got to sip another can of yummy nutrient liquid. She realized that she had no idea what time it was, and wondered how much longer they’d be spending taking pictures before it was time for the show. But she didn’t get more than a moment to herself when it was time to go back and pose again.

Roxanne had her stand in front of a plain grayish curtain at one end of the room and told her, “Now in this shot I want you to imagine that you’re a girl who hasn’t seen her boyfriend for a very long time, but any minute now he’ll be coming through that door over there.” Roxanne pointed at a side door to the room, just past her left shoulder. “Can I see that anticipation in your face?”

Dee did her best to try and look hopeful, but as the camera whirred and she looked toward that door, it actually did open and a guy in a black tuxedo came through it. He was about six feet tall, average build, with slicked back dark hair and a little moustache. He wore wire-rimmed glasses on his face. He was quickly walking towards Dee, and she was trying to figure out why he looked familiar when it hit her: this was Maritza dressed up as a guy! They’d hinted that “Mauricio” would be her escort for the awards show, but she hadn’t thought that was real. Dee only had time to take a couple steps towards her love when she was looking straight into those big, beautiful, brown eyes she knew so well.

She threw her arms around his neck, (Dee had been trained to address people as the gender they appeared to be) pressed her lips to his, and closed her eyes. She willingly allowed her lips to part and accepted his probing tongue into her mouth. She felt his hands caress her shoulders, her back, her waist, and they probably would have continued down if not for all her crinoline. She breathed in his strong, musty cologne and realized how different it felt to be kissed by someone with a moustache. She could feel the camera flashing, but didn’t care.

Solange made them stop before any major damage was done to Dee’s makeup. They reluctantly broke the kiss and pulled back, but they kept their hands entwined. Dee leaned over and whispered in Mauricio’s ear, “I missed you.”

An unfamiliar coarse voice whispered back, “I missed you too, My Darling. I love you, Davida.”

It was weird to be addressed by a different name. She’d grown used to thinking of herself as “Dee,” but that really was just an initial. This was just another version of calling her by a feminization of her male name. She smiled at her boyfriend. “I love you too, Mauricio.”

***

There was a bunch more posing, but the time just seemed to fly. It could have been hours, or it could have been minutes. Dee didn’t care; she was with her sweetheart. In fact, it came as quite a surprise when Claude told them their car was ready and it was time to go.

Dee thanked everyone, giving a Vanessa a big hug in appreciation of everything she did for her, and said she’d try to have the whole Cabal over for a dinner party some time in the near future, but she didn’t know her schedule yet; she might be at the mercy of a vindictive publicist.

Mauricio offered her his arm and led her to the door where a limousine was waiting, and then helped her into the car. It was her first time managing such a poofy skirt, but she did admirably, only showing a little more leg than she’d intended. Claude gave the driver David’s tickets, and made sure he knew where the pavilion was. Everything seemed to be in order, so they were on their way.

Mauricio broke the silence first. “At last we’re finally alone. I can hardly believe how beautiful you look. Finally everyone’s eyes can see what my heart has always known.”

Dee was overwhelmed, and really wanted to kiss him but was afraid for her makeup. She reached over and held his hand instead, accidentally brushing by an unexpectedly realistic bulge on his lap. “You look rather handsome yourself. I think we make a good couple.”

Mauricio licked his lips. “There is no way I am anywhere near as sexy as a man as you are as a woman. I almost wish we could just blow this thing off and go home, and I’d show you exactly what you make me want to do to you.”

The idea of skipping out on the awards was very tempting. Dee sighed. “I can’t wait to find out. But this whole project was about going to the awards. If we didn’t show up, Claude would be really pissed off, and might even sue me for all the expenses. I’ll tell you what, though: this has been such a long day for me, let’s just go home as soon as the awards are over, instead of trying to hit any After Parties.”

“That’s an excellent idea.” He kissed her hand and his moustache tickled. “I’ve arranged a surprise for you when we get back.”

“Really? What is it?” Dee peppered him with questions all the way there, but he wouldn’t even give her a hint.

They arrived at the pavilion, and their driver showed their tickets to a guard, who checked a clipboard, then directed him to get into a line of limousines. David wasn’t famous enough to cut ahead. The guard told someone over a walkie-talkie who was in which car. Now it was just a matter of waiting for their turn. They planned their exit while they were waiting. The driver would stop the car and then get out and open the door. Then Mauricio would get out, carrying Dee’s bag for her. He’d hold out his hand, and she’d take it to pull herself up out of the car. The driver passed Mauricio the tickets, and he put them in his inside jacket pocket in case anyone checked them.

They got to the red carpet and there was an explosion of flashbulbs as they got out. A few shouts of “Who are you wearing?” and more of “Who are you?” greeted them.

Dee smiled, gave a little wave to the crowd and called out, “I’m D. Fine, and my gown is a Claude Marsh! “

The name didn’t register with any of the reporters, so they tried wondering if Mauricio was the celebrity and she was just his date, but he just growled “Delgado” at them when they pressed him for his identity. It was kind of fun.

Dee did her best slow glide down the red carpet, and stopped when she saw a production assistant with the logo for The Jane Waters Show on his t-shirt. He was counting people as they went by. He called out that by his reckoning, they should be “David Fine and Guest,” but he looked confused.

Dee told him, “We are, and I think you’ll want to get Jane and a camera over here to talk to us. You might even want two cameras, to get Jane’s reaction.”

The P.A. compared the photo he had on his clipboard to Mauricio and it didn’t seem to match, so he wasn’t sure. But the way the pretty woman looked into his eyes made him want to believe her; he could tell she was hiding something. He clicked his microphone to call Jane over.

Jane made her way over and shot an irritated look at her peon. “I thought you said you had that Fine guy here for me to poke fun at again. Who are these people?”

Dee smiled sweetly. “Hello, Jane, it’s nice to see you again. I took your advice and came in a gown this year.” Jane still wasn’t getting it, so Dee cleared her throat and let her voice slip down into the lower register. “I’m David Fine, that guy you wanted to poke fun at, up for best adapted screenplay again. You probably don’t recognize me because I’ve had a little work done, but then I don’t need to talk to you about why someone would want a few surgical alterations.” Dee took a breath and went back to her feminine voice. “And you must admit that a gown like this one can only really be properly accessorized with silicone.” She gestured toward her enhancements.

They’d won. Jane was speechless. She muttered something incoherent, and her camera guy tried not to laugh. Dee unzipped her bag and showed the P.A. her official state ID with her current face and legal name of “David Fine,” just in case they thought it was some kind of trick.

The murmurs started going through the crowd as they continued down the carpet to the entrance. “That chick’s a dude!” and “No way!” were popular, as well as “The hottie in the red dress is a trannie!” Dee just held her head high and pretended not to hear them, smiling and occasionally waving.

Once inside, they gave their names to an usher, and he checked their tickets and showed them to their seats. Dee’s phone was vibrating, and there was still time before the show, so she answered it. “Hello?”

It was Nadine. “Oh my god! That really was you! Your voice sounds so real.” Dee went and explained the whole story to her, how Claude had figured out how to put Jane Waters in her place for embarrassing them last year, and while maybe they’d taken things a little too far, Maritza was into it, and Dee was finding that she kind of enjoyed being female. Nadine wanted to know if she’d had a full sex change, and whether she’d changed her name or anything, so she could let the publisher know. Dee told her that even though it wasn’t exactly Nadine’s business, she hadn’t made any irreversible changes as yet, and hadn’t decided if she was going to. Legally she was still a male named David, but she’d taken to going by her initial. The show was about to start and she’d have to turn her phone off, so she said she’d call her later. Nadine wished her luck and hung up.

Dee paid a lot more attention to all the ceremony this time around. She was particularly aware of what everyone else was wearing. The gowns all looked so lovely! She wished she had the figure for some of them, and felt a little too exposed compared to others. It also seemed like some of those born female didn’t put the time and effort needed into looking their best. She also found herself appreciating the shapes of some of the actors under their suits, which was a bit of a surprise. The only man she needed was the one sitting next to her.

When her category was announced, she applauded all of her competition, and imagined the cameraman who was supposed to zoom in on “David Fine” must have been having a hard time finding her. The favorite was a woman who had turned a true story from a series of articles about Somali refugees into a heartwrenching dramatic film that had already won for best supporting actress that evening. Dee was getting ready to applaud her when the presenter read, “And the Oscar goes to David Fine for Condensation.”

Dee was in shock. She only had a moment to realize she needed to get down there, and did a flawless glide down the aisle and up the stairs to the podium. The actress who’d read her name almost didn’t want to hand over the statuette, but she took it anyway.

“First, you’re probably wondering about my new look. You’ll have to ask Jane Waters about that; I don’t have time. I had a few words prepared, but as you can see this outfit doesn’t have any pockets so I left it behind.” She paused while the confused audience laughed. “I’d like to thank most of all the readers for making my books popular enough that someone wanted to make them into films, and the studio for giving me a shot at reinterpreting my own work for the screen. I didn’t always agree with the director’s choices, but I think in the end the story you see turned out better than I would have made it. So thanks, James, for telling my story better than I could. And thanks to a wonderful cast who made my characters into living, breathing, people. Lately for some reason, I’ve been concerned with nurturing my babies, and you treated them well.” She inhaled a little on that last line, and the crowd got her joke. “I’d also like to thank my good friend Claude who helped make this glittery city feel like home, even if he did talk me into some really crazy things.” She gestured at her gown, even though most people wouldn’t understand what she meant. “And finally, I can’t thank you for helping me win this because it was pretty much in the can by the time we started dating, but I love you, Baby!” She blew a kiss toward Mauricio, and held Oscar up in the air. “Woo!”

She’d finished her speech before the music started, and was ushered backstage. An official was standing there questioning her identity, and they had to send an usher to her seat to fetch her bag so she could show her ID. Mauricio came back with them, and gave her a quick peck on the cheek and congratulated her. She showed that she actually was “David Fine” and they confirmed the spelling and address to send the engraved nameplate when it arrived.

Dee and Oscar and Mauricio then went to a room where members of the press were waiting. She posed for a couple of pictures with her new little friend, and then stepped up to a microphone. Most of the questions were about her appearance. She started with a statement, “I have nothing but the utmost respect for the Academy and I hope I don’t look like a mockery at all. My goal was to wear my gown with the grace and glamour that the occasion merits, and you’ll have to decide whether I was successful.” The press gave a couple of wolf whistles followed by a spontaneous round of applause.

Dee thanked them and told them the whole story about how she’d been insulted the previous year and Claude talked her into becoming as feminine as possible, and her girlfriend was more than positive about it. Besides Claude Marsh fashions, she credited her new look to the work of Dr. Ben Coleman, and makeup artist Solange, and hair by Tom & Jeffy’s, and most of all the work of her Feminine Deportment Coach Kay Thomas.

The reporters asked exactly how much of a woman she’d become, and Dee evaded by saying that she had become very in touch with her feminine side, and enjoyed dressing up and looking pretty, and still enjoyed cooking and keeping a nice home but that hadn’t changed from before. She threw them a bone and said her training had included taking a dance class with a male partner, and that hadn’t been entirely unpleasant. She added that if anyone included that in her story, she’d appreciate it if they could also say that she’d like to apologize to her dance partner for kissing him without telling him the truth about her identity.

That got the press folks excited. They wanted to know whether she’d gone gay, and Dee explained that while there were positive aspects to being with a man, on the whole she preferred women. She was committed to her girlfriend and wasn’t looking to change that any time soon. One reporter asked if her girlfriend was still just as committed, and Dee said he could ask her that himself, and she beckoned Mauricio over to the podium.

Maritza talked in her regular voice, and peered out over her fake glasses. “Hi, I’m Maritza Delgado, and I could not be happier about my Sweetie’s new appearance. She made some serious changes but all you see here on me is fake. The only things I changed were I got my hair and fingernails cut.” She waved her hands with their short, colorless nails in front of her, and turned her head so they could see how short her hair was in back. She switched back to her Mauricio voice. “And any of you men out there have to agree that my lady is seriously fine. Look how sexy she is! As soon as this thing is over tonight, I plan on taking her home and ravishing her until morning.” He caught her by surprise in a deep kiss, and several cameras caught it.

They were rushed out of there, as the other winners were getting backed up waiting for their turns with the press. Dee laughed that she hadn’t even gotten to talk about the movie. They went to a table where a runner could be sent to fetch their driver to go put Oscar in the car.

While they were waiting, Dee checked her voicemail. She had a lot of messages from her friends congratulating her on her win and wanting more information about David’s apparent sex change. Nadine called not only to congratulate her on the win but also to say that there was already a bidding war between the morning talk shows to see who could get Dee on for Monday’s show.

Dee only had a little time so she called Claude and asked how she’d done. He said her performance was better than he could have hoped, and the clip of Jane Waters looking flabbergasted was already one of the top hits at YouTube. Claude speculated that her network had made her run the tape since it was a big scoop, even though it made her look stupid. Dee laughed and thanked him again before she had to go.

All that backstage work meant they’d missed several of the awards. But they didn’t miss the other award where Condensation had been nominated, Best Direction. Dee rooted for her movie, and applauded as loudly as possible when its director won the award. James Pierce took the podium and as part of his speech he thanked “Our writer, David Fine, a brilliant man and as we see tonight apparently also a very lovely woman.” Dee blew him a kiss for that, and wondered if she was on camera.

All in all, it was a wonderful event, although it ran overtime as it always does. There was a veritable stampede as all the Hollywood elite rushed out to find their drivers. There was a bit of a chill in the night air, and Mauricio wrapped his arm around Dee’s shoulders as they walked down the street to where their limo was parked. She squeezed his hand in hers and snuggled up tightly against him. It had been a long day.

On the drive home, Dee’s phone rang. It was Nadine. First, her publisher wanted a new photo of Dee for the back of her new novel’s book jacket as soon as possible. They were holding off on printing until they could add a note that the author was an Oscar winner, so they weren’t going to charge for causing a delay. But unless she supplied a new photo to their office by express mail for Tuesday morning, they’d have to go with one of the ones from Claude’s press release, and Nadine didn’t think they really suited who Dee was as an author.

The other piece of good news / bad news was that Dee would be interviewed on the Today show on Monday morning, which would be great publicity for the new book, but it meant getting to the local TV station by 4:00 am, dressed up nice and looking awake and pretty and ready to go. Dee sighed, but accepted her fate. It was a good thing they hadn’t tried to hit any parties.

When they got home, Mauricio tried to tip the driver, but he said he’d already been taken care of. He gave Dee the box with Oscar in it, and she carried it in her arms like a baby. She thanked the driver for taking good care of them and asked him for his business card, in case they needed his services again. He was very professional and she only caught him looking at her chest twice.

Just inside their foyer, there was an envelope tied to a ribbon hanging down from the lighting fixture. On the back it said, “D - Open me first.” Dee opened it, and saw that it was a card with a note from Kay:

“D:
Don’t let it get around, but I have to say this was my favorite assignment ever. You were such a natural, my job was a breeze. Your compassion, loyalty, and insight made you the pinnacle of womanhood on the inside before I ever met you, and your beauty and grace (I’m not talking about what Dr. Ben gave you; you were lovely even before his knife touched you) on the outside make you the envy of every girl. I count myself lucky to have met you.

You’ve had a busy day, and they didn’t feed you much. So if you take a moment to think about it, you’re probably starving. Jackie came by and prepared something for you. It’s in the kitchen, and she’s left you instructions on what to do with it.

Your computer has been returned, and you can have your office back. My stuff is all moved out, and your lady’s things are all back in her closet. Your male wardrobe is still boxed up, but those boxes are now in the back of your garage. I think we both know there’s little chance of you needing those things again. If there’s a garment that has some sentimental value to you, maybe you’ll want to rescue it, but I’d recommend just taking all those boxes and donating them to a homeless center.

I wish you luck and hope you’re coming home with an award, but even if you don’t, you’re still a winner in my book. When they gave you back your old phone, you may not have noticed but my number is now in there. Call me some time.
K”

Dee was glad her mascara was waterproof. She was weeping. Mauricio pulled her close and asked if it was bad news, but Dee shook her head and said she was just crying because she was happy. He rolled his eyes and said “Women!” They both laughed over that. He didn’t let her go until he’d given her a thoroughly toe-curling kiss, for good measure.

She thought about it, and she was kind of hungry. She headed into the kitchen and found a note from Jackie. She’d prepared a Moroccan meal for them and it was warming in the oven. She said that in Morocco they generally eat on low tables on the floor, so cushions had been set up in the living room for them to sit upon. Their meal was a stew in a special clay dish called a tagine (which Dee could keep after the meal as a gift from Jackie) served with freshly baked flatbread. The way to eat it was to tear off a piece of bread and use it to scoop from the common dish. It could get a little messy, so she’d set out finger bowls (another gift) when she set the table for them. There was a dessert in the fridge when they were ready for it.

The dish in the oven was very pretty. Dee would have to make a special spot in her china cabinet to show it off. She used a potholder and removed the high conical lid and was greeted by an exotically mouth-watering aroma. The ingredients were so soft that she couldn’t begin to identify them, but it smelled amazing! She made Mauricio carry the bowl to the living room while she took the bread out of the oven and placed it in the basket Jackie had laid out.

The coffee table had been laid with a pretty tablecloth that wasn’t one of Dee’s. It looked like it probably came from Morocco, too. A large trivet had been set out for the tagine, and a pitcher of water with ice cubes and lemon slices was set out on a large cork coaster to protect Dee’s table from its condensation. The place settings had a pretty brass finger bowl, a cloth napkin that coordinated with the tablecloth, a water glass and a champagne flute for each of them.

After noticing the glasses, Dee looked around and saw the champagne bottle chilling in a silver ice bucket on the fireplace hearth. It had a sticky note attached that read, “Congratulations! We did it! — Claude.” Her attention was also drawn to a new picture on one side of the mantelpiece in a beautiful silver frame. It was one of the photos Roxanne had taken, where Dee and Mauricio were turned three-quarters towards each other and sharing a look of profound love. It almost looked like a wedding portrait. There was another sticky note on the opposite side of the mantle that read “This space reserved for Oscar.” Dee giggled and placed her new little friend in his assigned space while Mauricio popped the cork.

They toasted Oscar and drank with their arms entwined. Mauricio settled himself casually down onto the floor pillows, almost reclining on them. It was trickier for her, but Dee figured out how to kneel down on the cushion and arrange her skirts around her without taking up too much space.

The meal was delicious! It took them a while to get the technique down of tearing off a piece of bread and scooping it through the stew without making a mess. The finger bowls got a lot of use in the beginning. Mauricio’s shorter nails made it easier for him to do it neatly, so after a while he hit upon the idea of feeding Dee. He’d bring the piece of bread to her mouth and hold it there while she nibbled it to bits. His reward was to have her carefully and lovingly clean his fingers with her mouth. It was extremely sensual, and they had to stop to share a few kisses along the way. For a couple of those kisses, Mauricio’s hand decided to wander and explore the texture of the top of Dee’s gown.

They cleaned the bowl. Mauricio ended up eating roughly twice as much of it as Dee. Her corset kept her from eating too much, but she was satisfied. He let her stay seated while he went to check the refrigerator to see what their dessert was. Dee wasn’t sure she’d have room for anything, and hoped Jackie hadn’t baked anything too heavy. She was happy to see him carrying back a tray with a rather light dessert of fresh strawberries with thick whipped cream for dipping.

She decided to repay his gesture with the stew, and dipped a strawberry for him and fed it to him. He took it into his mouth in one bite, and kissed her fingers. Then he fed her one, and she did another one for him. The next time he dipped one for her, she wanted to show off, so licked the cream off of it before softly sucking the berry into her mouth. Then when it was her time to feed him, she dipped the berry and held it in her teeth so he’d have to kiss her to take it, which he was more than willing to do.

When it was Mauricio’s turn, he loaded up a strawberry, but then danced it around, pulling it out of reach every time her mouth got close. But he moved it a little too fast, and a dollop of cream dropped straight down into her cleavage. She scolded him and said that it was a good thing he hadn’t ruined her gown. She reached for her napkin, but he held her shoulders and carefully licked up every drop of spilled cream. He looked up at her with a mischievous grin.

He pulled her to her feet and stepped them away from the table. “There’s only one way to be absolutely sure nothing gets on your dress.” He reached around behind her and unhooked then unzipped her dress, then pulled it off her shoulders and down to the floor. “There. Now we should be safe.” She could feel his eyes roaming all over her body. He brought her back to the cushions to sit down. “Although really, to be absolutely sure, we’d probably better take that off, too.” Before Dee realized what he was talking about, he’d reached one hand behind her and had unhooked her bra, then gently used two hands in the front to pull it off of her. His eyes grew wide as they took in all her glory. “I mean, look how easily an accident could happen.” He took another strawberry, loaded it with cream, and then deliberately dropped it on her left nipple. “Let me get that for you.”

He brought his mouth to her breast and softly licked at the cream until every bit was gone, and then kept going. Dee couldn’t help but wriggle and moan from the sheer pleasure. He abandoned his pretense and switched to let his fingers play with her left nipple and moved his mouth to the right one. Eventually he had each hand working a breast, and kept switching his mouth from one to the other, occasionally adding a fingerful of cream to mix things up.

After a while, Dee’s body trembled, and she felt what could only be an orgasm, but with her genitals still trapped it didn’t come with the usual signs. She grabbed his face in her hands and brought it to his for a kiss. “That was incredible. I would love to do the same for you, if we’ve still got any cream.” She ran her hand down the buttons of his shirt.

However, Mauricio chose to stay in character. Instead of taking his shirt off like she expected, he loosened his belt, unzipped his fly and reached down into his pants. Dee couldn’t exactly tell what he was doing, but a moment later he had a very realistic erect penis poking out of the front of his boxers. He ran two fingers through the cream and dropped a large amount on the end of his member. He leaned back, looked at Dee and smiled, wondering if she’d accept his challenge.

Dee probably should have been expecting something like that, but it really threw her for a loop. She stared at it for a moment and then grinned back at him. She slowly approached him on all fours and said that was her favorite kind of dessert. She hadn’t crawled naked since becoming a woman, and the feel of her breasts as the swung beneath her was a new sensation for her. They felt so much bigger in that position.

Since it was dripping, she decided to start from the bottom. She slurped her way all along the base, making sure she left it clean. It tasted rubbery, and a little sweaty under the flavor of the cream, but she was doing this for the love of her life, so she didn’t let it bother her. She did another orbit around the bottom of the shaft, but it was dripping down faster than she was sucking it up. The only way she was going to conquer this was head on. She took as deep a breath as her corset would let her, flexed her jaw in the hope that it wouldn’t cramp up on her, moved her tongue out of the way, and then lowered her mouth onto her boyfriend.

Even though he was made of silicone, she still refrained from using her teeth; it just seemed wrong. She bobbed her head up until only the tip was still in her mouth and then brought it down deeper than before. Each time she pushed further, willing her throat to open up, forcing herself to swallow instead of gagging. The thing must have somehow been connected to Mauricio’s true genitals, because he let out an involuntary groan any time she caused it to move. That gave Dee all the incentive she needed to keep going, faster and faster, deeper and deeper until her lower lip was touching his rubber testicles at every stroke. When she was almost ready to give up, he brought his hands to her head and held it in place for a few moments, until he eased her off.

He pulled her close and kissed her and noticed how clean she’d gotten him. “You sucked me completely dry, Baby. I love a girl who swallows for her man.” He gave her a little more cream on his fingertip, and she slurped it lustily. “You’re unbelievable.”

Dee soothed her throat with a few sips of cool water. She gave her man a sexy look Roxanne would have been proud of. “If you think that was impressive, clean this stuff up and then meet me upstairs. I believe I heard something about being ‘ravished until morning’?” She grabbed her bag, got up and did a slow sashay out of the room and up the stairs.

As Mauricio watched the seductive swaying of her lacy posterior, he was glad he wasn’t a biological male, as he’d have no blood left in his brain after that. He set to work taking care of the remains of their dinner as quickly as he could, without doing a sloppy job that would disappoint the lady of the house.

Dee had been mostly bluffing. She was essentially a virgin in certain ways, so her sexy bravado at promising something impressive had been entirely an act. But she was definitely ready to experience from a female point of view, and she knew she had the right partner this time. She hurried to get ready without wasting time; she did not want a repeat of her fiasco with Joe. She was not going to keep Mauricio waiting any longer than necessary.

She popped into her bathroom and checked her look in the mirror. Her hair had gotten a little messed up and she was probably missing a few bobby pins. She reached back and pulled out the rest of the pins, and then finger-combed the little braids out. She rapidly shook her head back and forth until she was satisfied that she had that tousled, messy look that was sexier than anything. Her makeup was still in decent shape. Her lips only needed a few little corrections and they’d be back in top form.

She spotted another little envelope from Kay on the counter. There was a little blue pill inside and a note that said it would help Dee shake off the effects of her herbal tea. She took the pill with a sip of water, and wondered how much more eager she would become once her libido was no longer being suppressed.

Dee had been on a mostly liquid diet for the better part of the day, so she figured she was fairly clean down there, but just to be sure she grabbed one of those bottles Kay had bought her and flushed herself out. Then she applied a very liberal amount of lubricant, as deeply as her finger could reach. She slid her panties back into place, washed her hands, and gave herself a few fresh spots of perfume before leaving the room.

Her timing was excellent. Mauricio was hanging up her dress for her when she came out. He asked, “So what do you think of your surprise?”

Dee hadn’t taken any time on her way through the bedroom, so she didn’t realize what he was talking about. But the gears in her head slowly turned until she noticed that he was standing in Dee’s closet, and it was just as deep as Maritza’s. She also looked to the side and noticed that the counter now sported dual vanities. There were now two lit up mirrors and chairs, and they each had their own space for their cosmetics and jewelry and things. She just stared, dumfounded.

“I was talking to Claude, and we decided that ‘His and Hers’ closets really didn’t seem appropriate anymore. You needed more space, if only for all your shoes. So he gave me the number of the guy you hired to make my closet, and I hired him to give you one just like it. You’ve lost a little more space in your office, but I hope you think it’s worth it. They still had all the measurements so it was easy for them to make all the pieces ahead of time, and get it all installed while you were out this morning. It was funny; we were parked around the block this morning waiting until you left, and I was so worried you’d spot us. I let them in, and then Kay took over when it was time for me to go get dressed.”

Dee went over and saw how all her things were nicely put away, and there was plenty of room for more! She made a happy noise in the back of her throat. “That’s so sweet of you to do that for me. I love my new closet! You have definitely earned what I was about to let you do anyway.” She kneeled on the bed and arched her back. “Come here, Stallion!” Mauricio walked up behind her and nibbled a row of kisses across the top of her shoulder and up the side of her throat. His arm wrapped around her waist and she leaned back into his embrace. Something poked her in the back, and she rocked her hips to send him the message of where it belonged. He brought his hands up and began to knead her breasts while his mouth breathed warmly at her ear. She moaned and arched her back. She definitely didn’t need any more foreplay. “Please, Baby! I want you so much!” She tried to reach her hand around to guide him, but the angle was wrong so he was just out of reach.

Mauricio didn’t want to torture her any further. He brought her body forward so she was lying facedown on the bed, and then he brought his hands to her hips. He appreciated that she’d moved her garters to inside her panties, so all he had to do was hook his fingers into the waistband and pull down, straightening her legs as he went. He gently caressed her baby-smooth bottom, and leaned forward to give it a kiss. His tongue slipped in for a little visit, and he could taste that she was prepared for him.

He grabbed her hips again and pulled them to the edge of the bed, so her legs were hanging off, and he guided her feet to the floor. Her flat, featureless crotch was strange but sexy. He traced the edge of her opening with his finger, and she hungrily tried to thrust her hips toward him. He indulged her and let penetrate her. She was wet, but very tight. He didn’t want to hurt her. He added a second finger and worked at her a little harder. She pushed against him and made little noises.

He had thrust three fingers into and out of her a good number of times, and he could tell she was really enjoying it. But then he pulled out and her hips wiggled around to look for him. He grabbed her in his left hand to hold her in position, and used his right hand to guide his penis to her hole.

Part of Dee wished that she had experimented more with her vibrators, so she would be used to having something inside her. But another part was glad she’d waited. It felt right that her first time was with Mauricio. She tried to relax and fought her body’s urging to clench. Eventually the pain of being stretched open faded and she was able to push her hips back against his. As he went faster and deeper, something happened and he found the magic spot that drove her absolutely wild. She pushed back with a renewed enthusiasm, and changed from leaning on her elbows to supporting herself with her hands. Her breasts swayed back and forth to the rhythm of their lovemaking.

Judging by the way his grunts were echoing her moans, they seemed to be in synch. She could feel it building to a crescendo. When the peak hit, she let out a perfectly girlish scream, and she heard him make his most guttural groan yet. Dee slumped forward onto the bed and felt him slip out of her. She wondered how long it would take her poor little balloon knot to close up again.

But mostly she wondered how long it would take to catch her breath. She was hyperventilating in rapid shallow pants, and tried to catch Mauricio’s attention. She whispered between breaths, “C-c-c-cut it off me!”

Mauricio was coming down off his own climax, and noticed Dee frantically waving. She was gesturing at her waist, and her breathing did not sound good. He realized what she wanted and how stupid they’d been! Having sex in a corset is a very bad idea. Maritza had done that once and nearly ended up in an emergency room. He went back over his briefing where they explained what would be needed to get her undressed and started frantically looking for the special scissors to cut her free, all the while whispering “Please don’t die,” his voice growing more high-pitched and feminine over time.

It turned out the stupid scissors were in plain sight, right on the nightstand. Mauricio snipped the thongs as fast as he could, being careful not to damage his sweetheart’s skin. He peeled the corset off of her and pulled her upright, holding her tightly by the shoulders so she could breathe as deeply as she wanted, glad she was okay.

Dee was really embarrassed. She took a few slow, deep breaths until her body calmed down and could breathe on its own. She felt tears on Mauricio’s face behind her, and turned just enough so she could kiss him. “I love you, Baby! Everything’s okay.” Their tongues danced a while together. “But while you’re setting me free from constrictive garments, do you see the solvent to get this thing off anywhere?” She pointed at her industrial-strength gaff. “I think maybe some parts are starting to get overheated.”

Mauricio knew where that solvent was. Its spray can had been right next to the scissors. He made Dee lie back in the bed and spread her legs. She didn’t like the look of her stockings without the garters attached to anything, so she unbuckled her shoes and removed her hose before complying with his wishes. The corset had left vertical stripes all around her torso, and it made her feel very self-conscious, but there wasn’t anything she could do about that.

Starting from the top, he sprayed the solvent at the edge of her moleskin, then gently peeled it back a little, then sprayed again, and kept it up until everything had been freed. He then fetched a damp washcloth from the bathroom and gave all those bits a sponge bath. “It looks like Little David is waking up,” he noted when his ministrations began getting a reaction. He bent down and planted a kiss right on the tip.

Dee was feeling confused. As blood started returning to parts that had been tightly compressed all day, she started feeling the pain of that compression. At the same time, there was the pleasant sensation of being gently fondled. However, these were definitely male genitals being caressed by an apparent male, and that seemed very gay. But Dee or David or whoever he or she was (referring to Little David by name caused another crisis of identity) could not deny that he was being aroused.

Mauricio gave David’s penis a few more kisses, and was rewarded for his efforts by watching it become erect. He ran his tongue along the shaft, and playfully teased the head with another kiss, and then opened up his mouth to softly suckle at it.

As David watched his erect penis disappearing into a male mouth, Dee fought to maintain her femininity. She brought her hands up to play with her nipples, and tried to make sure that all the moans of pleasure that were being induced were in the female range.

Mauricio worked his fingers over David’s testicles as he lovingly continued sucking. He could sense that they were about to release. He reached down and inserted his middle finger as deep as it could go, and David erupted almost immediately. Mauricio made sure that not a single drop leaked out of his mouth; he wanted to catch it all.

He crawled up on the bed and kissed his boyfriend/girlfriend, forcing her prettily painted lips apart to receive the snowball that they passed back and forth for a while until Mauricio made her swallow it.

David did not want to be gay, but he could not deny that he was getting very turned on by the whole thing. He was even starting to get hard again. That little blue pill was made of some powerful stuff!

Mauricio had been almost absent-mindedly petting David’s penis as he felt it growing beneath his touch once more. He had an idea and made sure that washcloth was handy, and set to work stroking more earnestly. He rolled David onto his side and spooned him while he masturbated him. He waited until David had relaxed a little, and with a slight change of position he reinserted his own penis into David’s well-oiled little bottom. He proceeded to synchronize his thrusts with his finger work, pulling and pushing at the same time.

While Mauricio was fucking his ass while giving him the “old reacharound,” David knew they were having sex in a way that only two men can. It was dirty and wrong and he did not want to admit how perfectly wonderful it was. He felt a profound sense of shame when he came all over Mauricio’s hand while he was still inside him. Mauricio quickly cleaned it up with his washcloth, but David still seemed permanently stained.

Mauricio rolled out of bed and stood up. “I don’t think enough of us are naked. I need a shower. Want to help?” He walked toward the bathroom.

Dee got up and pushed him back onto the bed to make undressing him easier. She took off his shoes (noticing that he’d been wearing lifts) and threw them aside, and then tugged off his socks. Seeing a pair of delicate hairless feet with pretty pink toenails, she remarked, “What kind of man wears toenail polish? I’m beginning to suspect you might have been keeping a secret from me, Mauricio!”

She pulled down his pants, leaving his penis sticking out the fly in his boxer shorts. “And you have smooth and shapely legs, too. You can be honest with me, Honey — are you one of those fruity guys that likes to dress up in women’s clothes?”

Even though she was doing nothing to conceal her own incongruity, Dee’s act as a confused girlfriend seemed so sincere that Mauricio was having trouble not collapsing into a giggle fit.

Dee made him sit up and began unbuttoning his shirt, revealing the “wifebeater” style undershirt beneath it. She pulled off his shirt and looked at him disapprovingly. “Your arms are smooth and slender, too. No manly muscles at all! And it looks like you even shave your armpits, too. Oh no! My boyfriend is a big sissy! What will I tell Mother?”

She pulled the tank over his head. His torso was wrapped in tight fabric. “Oh no, Baby! You’re all bandaged up! Did you crack a rib? I’m so sorry I was mad at you. But let me check to see if your dressing needs to be changed.”

Very gently and carefully, she unwound the bandage. Two nicely-shaped breasts were exposed to the air. “Oh my god! My boyfriend has tits! Are those real? Did you take hormones or something? Are you one of those freaky ‘she-males’ you see on TV?”

Dee pulled down his boxer shorts. “And you’ve got a better looking ass than me, too. Now that is just not fair, Mister! But why are there straps running around your…thingy?” She waved a finger around in the general area.

Maritza wasn’t sure her partner would be able to find the release for her harness, so she unbuckled it herself. “You silly girl,” she said as she stood up. “I’m not your boyfriend.” She reached up and ripped off her fake moustache. It was held on with only spirit gum and not the super stuff Dee’s appliance used, but it still stung like ripping off a Band-Aid. “I’m your lesbian lover.” She pulled her girlfriend close and kissed her deeply, feeling their naked breasts collide for the first time. It was a feeling she could definitely get used to.

Dee was done playing. “Welcome home, Maritza. I love you.”

Maritza kissed her again. “I love you too, Davida. But I wasn’t kidding about that shower. Let’s go.” She took her lover’s hand and led her into the bathroom. Dee had to wash off her makeup with cold cream first, and also take off her necklace and swap out her earrings for her sleeping hoops. Maritza started her shower alone, but soon she was joined by an eager helper ready to scrub her back for her, as well as every other inch of her body.”

Maritza’s sore breasts enjoyed the hot water. She had to tell Dee to be very gentle as she kissed her nipples. Dee apologized when Maritza winced, and decided that if she was going to be a lesbian, there were other things she could do with her mouth. She slid down Maritza’s body and knelt on the shower floor, giving a kiss to her pretty little belly button on the way down. She kissed around and slid down until she found herself practically lying down, with Maritza straddling her face.

She tilted her head to the side and kissed Maritza’s lips squarely with her own. She slipped her a little tongue and that earned a soft noise. If her nails weren’t so long, she’d try getting a finger in there, but the best she could offer was a knuckle. She found Maritza’s little happy button with her thumb and tapped it gingerly. That got a stronger reaction, so she moved her tongue up to there. Tracing the alphabet was too obvious, so instead she opted to spell out “I love you Maritza, forever and always.” Somewhere in the middle of “forever,” she got her results.

They finished their shower and dried off. Maritza’s short hair didn’t look so masculine when it wasn’t slicked back; it was a cute pixie cut. But Dee still missed how she looked in long hair. Maritza explained that it gave her more versatility as a model, since it was easier for hair and makeup people to put a wig or extensions on short hair than it was for them to hide long hair. It was also easier to maintain. She just had to towel dry and it was good to go, but Dee had to brush hers out and braid it to keep it from tangling in her sleep.

Maritza brought out two large gift boxes. One was marked with an M and one with a D. She said that Claude had given them new coordinating sleepwear in a variety of styles. She kept the M box and gave Dee the D box and told her to pick out what she wanted to wear, and she’d do the same in the other room.

When she finished her hair, she opened the box. All the pieces were made of the same soft silk material, in a deep green color. The first option was a pair of standard pajamas. The top had the buttons on the left and the bottoms had no fly, so they were women’s, but the style wasn’t very feminine at all. It had a plain triangular lapel, and straight cuffs, and not a ruffle or flounce anywhere. The second option was very feminine: a floor-length sweeping gown with spaghetti straps and lace trim all around the cups and at the edge of the hem. The third choice was somewhere in between. It was a nice girlish tank top with a little bit of lace around the neckline, with a pair of shorts to wear beneath them. They were cut just a little tighter than boxer shorts, and of course had no fly.

Next the box gave her a choice of two robes. One was long and seemed to be made to pair with the gown. It had a ribbon on the inside as well as a sash on the outside to tie it closed, so it would tightly show off the wearer’s breasts. It had similar lace trim to the gown along its collar, cuffs and hem. The other robe was a short kimono like she’d had to wear every time she went to Claude’s. It probably would work with the short set, but Dee figured he’d thrown it in as a reminder.

Finally, she had her choice of two styles of slippers. There were a pair of mules covered in that same green fabric with two-inch heels, or a pair of flat, thong style sandals covered in that fabric but also stuffed with very soft padding.

Dee considered her options. The most practical move would be to pick the short set. They’d allow for more ease of movement as she slept. The boring pajamas would be the ones to pick if she wanted to make the statement that Dee’s month of femininity was over and David was coming back, even if he was in a slightly different shape. But inside she just really wanted to pick the pretty nightgown. For all its impracticality, it best represented the way Dee saw herself, as an elegant woman. By the same token, she knew she had to go with the long flowing robe and the heels. It all fit her perfectly. There was a definite upside to having a fashion designer for a best friend.

She stepped out into the bedroom and broke out laughing. Maritza had made the same choice, only her gown, robe, and slippers were a strong gold color. She stepped over to Dee and kissed her. “We definitely belong together.”

Dee kind of didn’t like the way things were just hanging loose between her legs under her gown; she’d have to ask Claude to make her a matching pair of panties. Maybe he could just cut those shorts down smaller. She sat on the edge of her side of the bed, and was pleased to see someone sitting on the other side for the first time in too long. She kicked off her slippers, threw her robe over a chair, and swung her legs over into bed, gathering her skirts as she did so.

Maritza had been watching her, and applauded her technique. Her own technique was a little less fluid, but she did a roll at the end that carried her over to Dee’s side of the bed. She snaked an arm around Dee’s shoulder and snuggled her close. Since it was practically already there, she slid her hand down a little and softly stroked her breast. “I hope you don’t mind, but you’re going to have a tough time keeping my hands off of you. You’re just so incredibly sexy to me now, and I love that you did this.” Her circling thumb found the raised bump that was Dee’s nipple, and she gave it a gentle squeeze. “I hope you don’t have any regrets.”

Dee thought about things. “No, I don’t think so. But this really didn’t go the way I expected. At first, it was like putting on an act, pretending to be something I wasn’t. But then it turned into more like becoming someone new. And it the end, it feels like bringing out a side of me that was always there, but I never knew it.”

It didn’t seem fair to let one have all the fun, so Maritza reached over to Dee’s other breast with her other hand. She definitely understood why guys liked playing with boobs so much. Once you touched one, it was hard to stop, even if they were fake. “So are you thinking about becoming Davida completely, all over?”

“Well, I’ve thought about it, sure. It would be kind of hard not to, after coming this far. But I don’t think that’s a step I want to take, at least not in the foreseeable future.” She reached over and brought Maritza’s face to hers for a kiss. “This new me isn’t too weird for you is it?”

“What’s weird is that it doesn’t seem weird at all. I think you’ve become the person you were always meant to be, and she is a person who I love very much.” Maritza moved a hand down to where Dee was tenting out her nightgown. “I’m glad you don’t want to be 100% girl. While we can have fun with toys and things like we did earlier, sometimes it’s just nice to use our real parts.” She brought the front hem of Dee’s nightgown up to her waist, hiked up her own as well, and rolled over on top of her. She got up on her knees, straddling her pretty boyfriend, and held herself open while she lowered herself down onto him. “And our real parts fit together so well!”

Maritza’s hands squeezing her breasts were keeping Dee’s shoulders against the mattress, so there weren’t a lot of movements available to her. She ran her hands up under Maritza’s skirt along her gorgeous legs, and let her fingers dance along her hips and buttocks as she bounced on top of her. She felt herself nearing completion a little too soon for Maritza, (even with a magic blue pill, there was still a finite amount of fluid in her body) so she brought a hand around to give her some direct clitoral stimulation to get her there faster. They reached climax nearly simultaneously.

Maritza lowered herself so she was lying on top of her lover, and clamped down to keep David from falling out of her even as he was shrinking. She didn’t want the closeness to end. But then she started leaking and comfort trumped intimacy. She reached over and grabbed that washcloth from the nightstand and did her best to clean up all the mess before it reached either of their nice new nightgowns. They straightened out their skirts a little, but slept with their legs overlapping nonetheless.

***

The rudest alarm in the universe sounded at 2:00 am. Dee only had two hours before she had to be at the TV studio. Dee was very nervous about this interview. After this point, there was way she could just fade into the background. As a slightly famous semi-transsexual, her face would appear in enough places that it would probably even be difficult for her to try to pass as a legitimate woman.

Maritza decided to lend a hand by picking out what she should wear. In actuality, she was having fun playing dress-up with her new doll, but it still made things go a little faster. Dee wanted to wear something that would show that she’d actually gotten her boobs done and wasn’t just wearing falsies, but didn’t want something too slutty for morning television.

Maritza put her in a nice charcoal grey skirt suit, with a form-fitting jacket that scooped low enough to show a fair amount of cleavage, but she layered a nice cherry-red lace camisole under it, that had a built in shelf bra loose enough that there would probably be some noticeable jiggle.

Dee insisted on some figure enhancements, and wore her waist cincher and padded panty. For hose they went simple and chose a sheer suntan, with slightly daring four-inch black alligator peeptoe slingbacks on her feet.

Dee did her own makeup, but she let Maritza choose the colors. Her lipstick matched her top, her foundation was matte, and her eye shadow was neutral. It was morning, so she skipped eyeliner, but wore a modest amount of mahogany mascara.

Maritza picked a pair of diamond solitaire earrings for her, a brooch in the shape of an AIDS ribbon for her lapel, and a plain gold chain for around her neck. But she felt that the outfit needed something more, like maybe a tennis bracelet. She had an idea, and pulled out a small box from her own jewelry cabinet.

She sat on the edge of the counter beside where Dee was finishing her makeup. “Honey, can I tell you something?” Dee nodded, so she continued. “There’s this story I heard when I was young; I don’t know if they tell it up here, too. It’s about this little girl who gets lost in the jungle and breaks into a house that belongs to these bears. In this story, bears live in houses — I don’t know why, but that’s how you know it’s a story. There’s a father bear and a mother bear and a little bear, so there’s three of everything in this house. But when the girl tries any of the things, there’s always one that’s too much one way, and one that’s too much another way, and the third one is exactly perfect for her. Like she’ll try to eat the father bear’s food and it’s like still boiling, so it’s much too hot to eat, and then she’ll try to eat the mother bear’s food and it’s not hot at all it’s like frozen or something, and then she’ll try the little bear’s food and it’s like the exact right temperature. Or like she’ll try to sleep in the father bear’s bed and it’s just like plain wood, much too hard to sleep on, and then she’ll try the mother bear’s bed and it’s like a big pile of feathers, much too soft to sleep in, you just fall in and sneeze all night, but then the little bear’s bed is made out of straw and blankets like a real bed and that’s the one the girl can sleep in. Do you follow?”

Dee tried hard not to laugh at Maritza trying to tell the story of Goldilocks, but she looked so serious it would be wrong. She just mumbled, “Yes, I think I might have heard a story like this when I was a kid.”

Maritza smiled. “Well, good! Because I’m trying to tell you that you make me feel like the girl in that story. As you know I have been with other people before you. I have tried being with manly men, and they are just too rough and smelly. And I have tried being with womanly women, (is that how you say that?) and they are just too soft and gooey.” She slid off the counter and kneeled down beside Dee, and then opened the jewelry box. “But you, Davida, my womanly man or manly woman, whichever you’d rather call yourself, you are exactly perfect for me, and I can’t imagine anyone I’d rather be with. Would you please agree to be my husbandly wife?”

Dee had only been half listening, but the full meaning of those words finally hit her. She saw that Maritza was holding out a box containing David’s grandmother’s ring! Damn you Claude! But really, there was only one thing to say. “Yes, my love, my life, my one and only, I would be honored to spend the rest of my life with you.” Maritza slipped the ring onto Dee’s finger, and it fit perfectly. Well after all, she had asked Claude to get it sized; she just hadn’t realized at the time whose finger it would be ending up on. Thank God for waterproof mascara. She knew that the commitment she’d just made meant that there was no going back to being just David ever again, but it didn’t bother her in the least. She looked forward to building a future with Maritza, and wondered if like Jackie she’d get the opportunity to share in nursing their children, when the time came. But before any of that there was the matter of another ring to take care of. “Um, just curious, but you wouldn’t by chance have seen another box like that somewhere?”

“It should be in your jewelry cabinet. This one was in mine.” Maritza played along and pretended not to understand.

Dee kicked herself for not taking the time to explore her new beauty station. She found the little blue box right in the top drawer where Maritza’s had been. She got down on her own knee; if her pantyhose got a run, she’d deal with it. Some things were more important. David had been working on this speech for a while, and Dee tried to remember as much as she could. “Maritza, even though we come from different worlds, I think where we meet has the potential to be something truly wonderful. I would hate for my life to return to the humdrum grind it was before you came into it. I love the way we complement one another, and it would be a dream come true if that could continue for as long as we breathe. Now on this part I’m a little rusty, but I think I’ve got the words right. Maritza Delgado, te amo.  ¿Por favor, Te quieres casar conmigo?”

Maritza was touched deeply, even though her own proposal had already been accepted. She loudly declared, “Si!” Dee slipped the ring, the one that had been David’s mother’s, onto her finger. “Now I’ll probably have to get a chain to wear this as a pendant most of the time, but it’s not because I’m rejecting you. If I wore it all the time, I’d get a mark on my finger, and that can be a problem with my job. But I can wear it sometimes, when we’re around people I want to know that I am not available, and I can wear it for you so you know I am yours, now and until the stars fade.” They shared a long kiss, not caring if it made them late.

Princess School I. Preliminary Interviewby Jennifer Brock Kayden Winne’s family is poor so when he gets a scholarship to a prestigious private high school, he is at first happy about it. Then he realizes he knows just enough French to translate the name of the school, L’École pour les Dauphines, to English: School for Princesses. (story squib by Erin)

In a luxury hotel suite, a woman is seated behind a desk. She appears to be somewhere in middle age, but her chestnut brown chignon shows no hint of gray, and her expertly applied makeup shows no sign of any wrinkle on her face, so her exact age is a mystery. A pair of tortoiseshell “cat’s eye” glasses frame her stern, hazel eyes. She is dressed in a tweed skirt and matching blazer over a high-collared lace blouse. A string of natural pearls around her neck matches a pair hanging from her ears. Two women flank her desk. To the left stands an athletically built brunette in her late twenties or early thirties. She wears a white shirtdress and white shoes with a low heel. To the right of the desk sits a petite Asian woman in a smart black pantsuit and high-heeled red pumps. She holds a red leather portfolio on her lap.

There is a soft knock at the door and the central woman nods to the woman in white, who crosses the room to open the door and admit their visitors. The first to enter is a sturdy middle-aged woman in a worn green dress. Her face looks tired and her ash brown hair is pulled back in a bun. She’s followed by a child, a skinny five-foot-tall tween in a button-down white shirt and black dress pants that aren’t quite long enough. Some sort of product has been used on the child’s chestnut brown hair to slick it straight back over the top of the head, and at the nape of the neck it extends nearly an inch past the shirt collar.

As her associate closes the door, the woman at the desk stands up and motions to the chairs set up facing her. “Mrs. Winne, and young Kayden, I presume? Please, take a seat.” When they did so, she sat down herself, and continued. “Allow me to introduce myself; I am Ms. Lillian Blackburn, Headmistress of L’École pour les Dauphines. Ms. Crawford here who let you in is our resident nurse.” The blonde resumed her position beside the desk. “And Ms. Li is our attorney.” The woman on the right nodded to the newcomers. “So, tell me, Mrs. Winne, what brought you to apply for your child’s admission to our school?”

Mrs. Winne clutched her handbag on her lap and took a nervous breath. “The public schools in our district are just horrible! And there were students who’d been bullying Kayden all through middle school, and the people in charge just wouldn’t do anything about it. With no one stopping them, those boys would likely continue in high school, where they’d be bigger and stronger and more dangerous! So I had to find a way to get Kayden into a private school. And one day I saw the Vanderhausens, that’s the family I work for, had some papers about your school; they were talking of sending their daughter Astrid, she’s Kayden’s age, there. And Mrs. Vanderhausen gave me some pages of the paperwork that she didn’t need, and asked me to recycle them, but I saw one of the pages said something about a ‘Disadvantaged Outreach Scholarship,’ so I saved them. I filled out that application and mailed it to you.”

Ms. Blackburn cracked half a smile. “So you knew nothing about L’École pour les Dauphines before you applied?”

“I just figured if the Vanderhausens thought it was good enough for Astrid, it should be a good place for Kayden.” She shrugged. “And you got back to me and had me fill out more forms and stuff, and said you’d give Kayden a shot at a full scholarship, so that was all I needed to know about your dolphin school.”

The headmistress cracked a bigger smile and was about to say something when she was interrupted by young Kayden speaking up. “Please don’t laugh at my mother’s ignorance, ma’am. I tried to tell her.” Ms. Blackburn nodded for the child to continue. “She showed me the paperwork, and that word ‘Dauphines’ seemed familiar. I remembered when we were studying Joan of Arc in history, and she was protecting the ‘Dauphin,’ who was the French crown prince. My teacher Mr. Bixby made this dumb joke about how France called their prince a dolphin, while England has the Prince of Whales. But ‘Dauphines’ isn’t quite ‘Dauphin,’ and adding an e at the end of a French word is one way to make it feminine, so the name of your place is French for ‘School for Princesses.’ I think it’s a girls’ school, and even though my Mom didn’t let me get a haircut before this meeting and I’ve met some girls named Kayden, I’m a boy, so we probably just wasted your time in making you come here.”

Ms. Blackburn laughed. “My dear, I was already aware of the status of your gender. Your mother has already provided us with a copy of your medical records. Also, don’t blame your mother; I asked her not to cut your hair. That was an impressive deduction, but you didn’t discover nearly the whole story. Tell me, what is the job of a princess?”

Kayden shrugged. “To sing and dance with her animal friends?”

“No, Dear, I don’t mean in popular fiction, but in history. The main duty of a princess is to provide a means for her family to forge alliances with other noble houses, by marrying the son of said house. And this is especially true for one who would become the Dauphine, the bride of the heir to the crown, so we aren’t merely a ‘School for Princesses,’ but a ‘School for Future Queens.’ Now here in America, we don’t officially have titled nobles or royalty, but we do have a ruling class, families of wealth and power. It was for the daughters of those families that our school was founded in 1872. When upper-class industrialists or financiers want to work toward common goals, they will often do as the royals would and wed their ‘princesses’ to the scions of the other families. And to increase the perceived value of these ‘princesses,’ they would be sent to finishing schools such as ours to improve the young lady’s poise and manners and charm.”

The headmistress continued her lecture. “Originally we were just another finishing school among many. But over the decades, our mission changed. We are now a fully-credited academic institution, providing a world-class secondary education. A majority of our graduates go on to enroll in some of the most prestigious colleges and universities. But our primary objective is still to groom the daughters of important families into lovely young ladies ready to shine. Among our peers, L’École pour les Dauphines has a reputation for handling the worst cases. Sometimes, the daughters of these families don’t want to fulfill their duties. These ‘reluctant princesses’ have become our specialty. Whether they are rebellious, or willful, or lazy, or merely have acquired too many bad habits, through our strict program of training and discipline we turn them into delightful young ladies ready to take their place in society.”

Mrs. Winne looked confused. “So if you are a girls’ school, why would you want Kayden?”

“A few years back, to convince potential clients of the power of our service, we created the Outreach Scholarship, where we’d give some lucky lower-class girl the Pygmalion treatment. Are you familiar with Shaw?” Seeing the blank stares on her audience, she explained, “it’s a play where a professor of elocution makes a wager with his friend the colonel that he could take a common girl off the street and through six months of his training be able to pass her off as a duchess at a society ball.”

Mrs. Winne smiled. “Oh! Like My Fair Lady! Why didn’t you say so?”

The headmistress continued. “Anyway, the parallel was that we’d give a girl of low birth a scholarship, run her through our program, and present her, usually at a Cotillion or Debutante Ball, as an exemplary young lady of quality, before revealing her true origins, with photographic proof of the Before and After. More recently, we’ve been documenting the whole process through a series of video recorded interviews with the girl, taken at intervals throughout her time with us. When your application was received, and we became aware of the child’s gender, it struck me as the ultimate version of the Pygmalion wager – what if, instead of turning a crude tomboy into a lovely young lady, I could demonstrate that our techniques could transform a crude boy into the quintessential dauphine? So, Mrs. Winne, my proposal to you is that you hand young Kayden over to my care, where the child will be given a superior secondary education at absolutely no cost to you, with the only caveat that for the duration of her attendance at L’École pour les Dauphines, she will have to live in a feminine guise. Is that acceptable?”

“Kayden would get the kind of education that I could never afford, that would probably get him into a good college and secure his future, and all he has to do is pretend to be a girl while he’s at school?” She turned to her son. “Honey, do you think you could do that? It’s a little weird, but it might be your best chance.”

Kayden shrugged and wrinkled his forehead. “If we do this and I mess up and get caught, will my Mom end up having to pay you guys?”

The headmistress shook her head. “We do have a clause in the contract your mother will be signing that says that should we need to release you before your education has completed, even if the reason for your termination is having been discovered, we will find an appropriate academic institution to transfer you to, and we will be assuming all financial responsibility for the duration of your time as a student. There is one exception. One of our missions is to preserve our students’ chastity; after a scandalous incident in the 80’s where one of the upperclassmen had a dalliance with one of the gardeners, we don’t even have any male employees on staff. We turn a blind eye to those girls who wish to engage in Sapphic exploration, since those trysts result in no tangible evidence. However, due to your situation, any romantic activity between you and another student (beyond friendly signs of affection) will be grounds for immediate expulsion.”

Kayden tried to laugh. “I’ve never even dated, so that seems like a sacrifice I can make.” He looked over at his mother. “This pretending to be a girl thing sounds crazy, but I kind of want to try it. Anything’s got to be better than going to high school with the Delaney brothers, right?”

Mrs. Winne frowned. “You’ve never shown any interest in girly things; are you sure you could handle going to a school where they teach girls to be wives? All those classes in cooking and sewing and cleaning, I suppose.”

Ms. Blackburn waved her index finger. “We are indeed training these young ladies in the necessary skills to improve their value as brides, but you have a middle-class concept of a wife’s role. Frankly, our students will have someone like you to do such daily drudgery. Our graduates leave the school having learned to appreciate art and culture and literature, and become skilled at beauty and poise and fashion. We are teaching them how to be the hostess for a fine meal, not how to prepare one.” She looked at Kayden. “If you’re curious about how you would look as a girl, Ms. Crawford can take you into the next room and help you into your uniform.” The nurse walked over and led the boy through the door to the suite’s adjoining room. “That will take them some time, so now would be a good time for Ms. Li to go over the details of the contract.”

The lawyer opened her case and handed Mrs. Winne copies of the contract they were offering her, and then proceeded to run through the important sections, explaining all the complex legalese. She had to repeat three times that Mrs. Winne would not be allowed to tell anyone what Kayden was up to, before graduating from L’École pour les Dauphines. And in any correspondence or other contact with Kayden while at school, she was to refer to her exclusively with feminine words, and never imply that she was ever anything else. Kayden was absolutely forbidden from telling anyone her true gender. Because of the way the contract was written, Mrs. Winne gradually joined the others in referring to Kayden as “she.”

After several minutes, Ms. Crawford returned. She was wearing latex gloves, and there was a damp spot on her dress near the left knee. “Ladies, allow me to present Miss Kayden Winne.” She beckoned behind her, and the teen slowly came through the door. Kayden was dressed in a white blouse under a navy blue blazer that bore the seal of the school, a bright red pleated skirt, white knee socks, and black patent leather Mary Janes with a slight heel. Instead of the slicked-back boyish style it arrived in, Kayden’s hair had been washed, blown out and rearranged so it was parted on the side, pinned back with a pair of silver barrettes. When this nervous schoolgirl stepped into the room, the others could see that she had mascara on her eyelashes and shiny pink lip gloss that matched the polish on her fingernails. Her eyebrows had been groomed into tapered arches, and her ears had been pierced with pearl studs. Ms. Crawford looked at the headmistress. “I’m sorry it took so long. Since I had to get her in the shower to wash the gel out of her hair, I showed her how to shave her legs, even though only a few inches of skin are visible between her skirt and socks.”

Kayden stood in front of his mother. “Do I look okay, Mom? Can we pull this off?”

“Honey, you’re adorable! I’ve wondered what it would be like if I’d had a girl, and now I know!” Mrs. Winne stood up and gave her new daughter a hug. “You even smell like a girl, Sweetie!” She then walked to the desk. “Ok, I guess we’re in. Where do I sign?” Ms. Li brought out the papers and indicated on each where her signature was required.

Kayden was looking around as though unsure what to do. Ms. Blackburn looked at her new student. “My dear Miss Winne, you may be seated.” Kayden breathed a sigh of relief and returned to her chair. The headmistress was displeased. “Miss Winne, especially when wearing a skirt, a proper young lady sits with her knees together. Also, don’t slouch - sit up straight, shoulders back and chest out. I know you’re not used to having a bust, but there’s nothing to be ashamed of; the padding we’ve chosen for you is small, but within the typical range for a girl your age. And lift your head up; don’t look at the floor, and you’re being given an incredible educational opportunity, so you may wish to smile and look happy about it.” Kayden made an effort to comply with each of these orders, and from her post beside the desk, Ms. Crawford mouthed, “Good girl!” and gave a discreet thumbs-up gesture, and Kayden’s smile brightened.

When the final papers were signed, Ms. Li collated them into three sets of identical documents, and put each set into a heavy paper folder with the school’s seal on the cover. She handed one to Mrs. Winne, one to the headmistress, and said that she’d file the third set with the court. Ms. Blackburn stood and shook Mrs. Winne’s hand. “Thank you for your cooperation. I’m sure this arrangement will be beneficial to all parties. We’ll give you a few minutes to say goodbye to your daughter, while Ms. Crawford goes to gather her old clothes for you.”

“Goodbye? What do you mean? I thought school didn’t start until September!”

The headmistress stood. “That is true, but we tell incoming freshmen to arrive two weeks before the beginning of the term, so that they can learn the rules of the school before their classes start, and to give us time to ensure that they all have the correct uniforms. We’d like to have young Miss Winne sorted out and settled before they arrive, so we plan to give her time for private tutoring from our teachers of speech, poise, and grooming, to give her time to adjust to her new role before being inundated with classmates. The other reason we want her early is so that we have time to see whether the injections Ms. Crawford will be giving her to retard her male puberty will have any major negative side effects.”

Mrs. Winne put her arm around her child. “You didn’t say anything about any injections! You can’t just give my child drugs without my permission.”

“Surely you’d realize that to maintain the ruse that Kayden here is and always has been female, we can’t allow her to develop a deep voice, broad shoulders, and a beard? The drugs we’ll be giving her have been approved for exactly this use to prevent transgender children from growing into adults of the wrong gender before they’ve matured enough to be approved for hormone therapies. The procedure does nothing permanent; should she decide to become a man after graduating, Kayden can stop the injections and let his body mature naturally. And regarding your permission, you’ve already given it. Amongst the forms you just signed was one granting me medical power of attorney over Kayden. It’s standard practice for schools like ours, where the parents might be hard to reach in an emergency. It also lets us do things like make an appointment for Kayden to see a cosmetic dentist next Monday, to see if orthodontia or whitening are recommended. Now give your daughter a hug and wish her luck at school. The plane we chartered is scheduled to leave in ninety minutes.”

The Winnes hugged and shared a tear or two. “That doesn’t even give us time to go home and pack a bag – do you have to leave so soon?”

“Since L’École pour les Dauphines specializes in difficult students who might not want to be there, we have rules which limit the things our girls can bring from home. Since Miss Winne has no appropriate clothing left at home, or jewelry or cosmetics or toiletries or grooming tools, there wouldn’t be anything to pack. You will be having regular telephone conversations, so if there is some prized keepsake or sentimental childhood toy that she misses, (assuming we approve it) you can mail it to her.” Ms. Blackburn stepped aside so Ms. Crawford could hand Ms. Winne a tote bag with the school crest on it, containing Kayden’s male clothes.

As her mother walked out of the hotel room, Kayden called out, “Goodbye, Mom! I’ll do my best to make you proud!”

Princess School II. Freshman Fall Orientationby Jennifer Brock Kayden Winne’s family is poor so when he gets a scholarship to a prestigious private high school, he is at first happy about it. Then he realizes he knows just enough French to translate the name of the school, L’École pour les Dauphines, to English: School for Princesses. (story squib by Erin)

Headmistress Lillian Blackburn is seated behind a large antique mahogany desk, its corners carved in the shape of heraldic dolphins. Behind her a large picture window, framed by navy blue drapes, looks out onto a well-manicured lawn where a stone bench sits in front of an enormous oak tree. The delicate floral wallpaper on the wall to either side of the window is barely visible, as an array of framed photographs of uniformed school girls standing in rows nearly covers the entire wall. Four delicate straight-backed chars are set up in a line facing the desk. Her intercom buzzes. “Miss Winne is here, Headmistress.”

Ms. Blackburn presses a button. “Thank you, Miss Livingston. Show her in.”

A door opens and Kayden Winne enters. She wears the same uniform as before, but her hair has now been cut and styled in a rounded bob with side-swept bangs tucked behind her left ear. Her earlobes are decorated with simple stud earrings bearing sparkling blue princess-cut stones in silver settings. Her fingers sport a French manicure on oval-shaped nails that extend a quarter-inch past her fingertips. Her eyelashes have either grown fuller or are wearing a coat of brown mascara. There is the slightest hint of mauve on her eyelids and pink on her cheeks, and her lips ae glossy and Barbie-pink. She slowly and deliberately crosses the room, her head held high, and her arms straight and motionless. She steps to the third chair in front of the desk, scoops her skirt behind her with her left hand, and sits down, pressing her thighs together and folding her hands in her lap. She nervously smiles at Mrs. Blackburn, and only the sharpest eye could spot the invisible aligners covering her pearly whites. “You wanted to see me, Headmistress?”

“Yes, Miss Winne, I wanted to see how you felt things were going.”

Kayden shrugged. “I think my special lessons are going okay, but you can ask my teachers if you wanted to know that. The summer students still don’t talk to me much when our paths cross in the dining hall; I’m not sure if it wasn’t better those first few weeks when I was in isolation and they were bringing me my meals in my room. But at least the food’s good! Can they sense that I don’t really belong here?”

Ms. Blackburn nodded. “That’s an astute observation, my dear. They do think, incorrectly might I add, that you don’t belong here, but not for the reason you suspect. It appears that Ms. Weiss tried to motivate a pair of foreign-born students trying to reduce their accents by comparing their progress to that of ‘the Scholarship student’ she’d been tutoring in proper language. So you see, the other girls are just avoiding you out of basic classism. It is a harsh truth that you will need to work harder than most of our students to earn the respect of your peers. Keep in mind that most of those summer students are here because they needed remedial lessons just like you did, so in some ways they’re no better than you.”

Miss Winne gave a half smile. “Please don’t think I hate it here. I have figured out which princess I am!”

“Excuse me?” The headmistress cocked her head.

“Well, I’d been thinking that with my mother being a servant and all, and you training me to become a princess, that pretty much made me a Cinderella type. But I was exploring campus and discovered the library, and realized that I’m cool with all the rules and restrictions here as long as it means I get to hang out there and read. So, it makes more sense that I’m totally Belle! And if being a princess here means I end up having to dance with some princely guy, it’s more likely that I’ll find him beastly than that he’ll knock me out of my shoes!”

The headmistress chuckled. “Those Disney people have so much to answer for. But if modeling yourself on a fictional character helps you with your self-image, I won’t stop you. However, on that note I have some news. I’m aware that you may be having some difficulty emotionally handling the need to maintain an illusion all the time, so I’ve let another of our staff in on your secret. Our counselor, Dr. Pollard, is back from her summer vacation, and I’ve let her know about our little experiment. She often serves as a sounding board for students who are overwhelmed by the disciplinary methods we use here, so if you ever feel like you need someone to talk to, just ask Miss Livingston to schedule you an appointment.”

Kayden nodded. “Okay. That sounds like a good thing. Thanks.”

“Are you eager for the academic term to begin, or would you rather have a longer summer?”

“Well, I’m still scared that someone’s going to notice that I’m not a real girl like everyone else, but I’m kind of looking forward to having some classes in actual school stuff. I mean, I’ve learned a lot from the teachers you had me working with, but it might feel less weird and more normal-ish to be sitting in a class learning math or English or something like that, even dressed like this, than Ms. Spencer teaching me to walk with a book on my head, or Ms. Weiss telling me not to mumble and open my vowels, or especially Ms. Calderon showing me how to do my makeup. I’m looking forward to having classes in more than just girl stuff.”

Ms. Blackburn cleared her throat. “First of all, Miss Winne, I’d prefer you didn’t refer to our classes that enhance the beauty, grace and charm of our students as ‘girl stuff.’ The other students most likely wouldn’t think of them that way, and you have a secret to keep. Secondly, while your course load this coming term will contain classes in English composition, intermediate French, algebra, world history, biology, art, and music that might seem familiar to you, I can assure you that the way lessons are taught here will be unlike that of the underfunded public schools you’d previously attended. Thirdly, you will continue taking classes in elocution, poise, and grooming to carry on from the tutoring you’ve had, and in addition you will be taking the other classes we start all our freshman students on: deportment, penmanship, and conversation. At Ms. Spencer’s suggestion, your physical education for the autumn term will be introductory ballet – she believes you need to learn to move with more fluid grace. As an aside, a slight complication is that on the days you have ballet, Ms. Crawford will be attaching your prosthetic breasts in the morning with adhesive, since the leotards are worn without a separate brassiere, and I believe she also said something about needing to give you a bikini wax. In brief, I’m of the opinion that you will find your academic life here neither familiar, nor free from feminine emphasis.”

Kayden’s smile faded. “Wow. That seems like a pretty heavy schedule.”

“Since the majority of our students are here to correct serious flaws in their attitude or behavior, we don’t grant them much free time; a fair amount of your instruction will occur in the evenings. And you’ve performed admirably so far, Miss Winne. I wouldn’t assign you so many classes if I expected you to fail.” The headmistress gestured toward at a file folder on her desk. “Based on your aptitude test results, I am certain that you will be able to meet the challenge of the more academic classes. And the other classes should each do their part in molding you into an elegant young lady of whom I can be proud.”

Kayden felt the need to look down and see that her skirt was smooth and her knees were together before looking back up at Ms. Blackburn. “I will do my best.”

“On another note, your classmates will be arriving in the next few days; are you ready to meet them?”

Kayden shrugged. “I’m not sure if I’ll ever be ‘ready,’ but I guess I am curious what it will be like.”

“Very well, then let’s start with your most important classmate.” She pressed the button on her intercom. “Miss Livingston, send in Miss Winne’s new roommate.”

The door opened and another student entered the office. She was in the uniform of L’École pour les Dauphines, but unlike Kayden, her skirt was hiked up so the hem came to the middle of her thigh, her blouse was not tucked into her skirt and its top two buttons were undone, and her blazer wasn’t buttoned at all and its sleeves were rolled up. Her straight, blonde hair hung just past her shoulders in back and was cut in straight bangs in front. Wide silver hoops hung from her ears. Her pale complexion contrasted sharply with her cherry-red lipstick. Strong black eyeliner drew attention to her cobalt blue eyes. Her eyebrows had been groomed to very thin arches. Her head swiveled back and forth as she strode across the room, taking in everything. She lowered herself into the chair next to Kayden and crossed her legs, then also crossed her arms. Rolling her eyes, she looked at Ms. Blackburn and said, “You’re like the one in charge here, right? This is all some game of my parents to try to scare me or whatever; I’m sure they’ll be coming to get me out of this place in a couple days, so whatever you have to say to me, just save it. I’m not staying. Could you give me back my phone, now?”

Meanwhile, Kayden was just watching her, wide-eyed. “Astrid?”

Before the newcomer could react to being named by a stranger, the older woman stood. “I am indeed the Headmistress here at L’École pour les Dauphines, Miss Vanderhausen. Let me dispel your illusion; this is no joke. Your parents have paid your tuition for the year, and it is neither a pittance nor refundable. If you are properly obedient, you will be allowed monitored access to your smartphone for three thirty-minute sessions a week. But until you demonstrate the proper respect, that access will be denied you. Your parents enrolled you here for, among other reasons, a marked insubordinate attitude toward authority, and we will break you of that, I assure you.”

Astrid rolled her eyes again. “Whatever.”

Ms. Blackburn’s voice didn’t get any louder, but somehow seemed to fill the room. “Miss Vanderhausen, the proper reply when I have spoken to you is ‘Yes, Headmistress.’ Do you understand?”

Astrid could not meet Ms. Blackburn’s gaze. She mumbled her reply. “Yes, Headmistress.”

The headmistress’ face relaxed and her aspect stopped seeming to channel the Forces of Darkness. “Now, with that unpleasantness taken care of, I can say that I will be giving you a unique responsibility, and how well you manage this has the potential to provide you with a number of privileges, including increased access to your smartphone and perhaps releasing some others of your personal items which we have confiscated. The details of this duty cannot leave this room; you are forbidden from mentioning it to anyone, not even through telephone or letter. Have I piqued your interest?”

Astrid didn’t roll her eyes this time. “Um, yeah, I mean, yes, Headmistress.”

Ms. Blackburn waved her hand toward Kayden. “Astrid Vanderhausen, allow me to introduce Kayden Winne.”

Kayden turned to Astrid. “Hi.”

Astrid laughed. “That is so weird. Our housekeeper is named Winne, and I’m pretty sure she’s mentioned a kid named Kayden. But I thought it was a boy.”

The headmistress smiled. “You are correct. Miss Winne’s mother is indeed employed by your family as a domestic. It is also true that she is technically a boy, although no one outside of a very few people are to know that. In order to keep you from figuring that out on your own, you are being brought into the fold of those in the know.”

“This is like some hazing thing to get back at me, right?” Astrid pointed at Kayden. “There is like no way that she is really a guy!”

Kayden raised her hand and gave a little wave at Astrid. “Um. We’ve actually met, you know. It was like a year and a half ago, so I guess we were twelve. It was a Sunday night. Your folks were going to some charity party, but you told your mom you had the flu, so she called my mom and asked her to come in on her day off to tend to you, but she only agreed if she could bring me. When we got there, your dad was in a tux; your mom was in a shiny red dress, and your sister was in a really pretty blue one, and they all left to go to their thing. My mom checked on you and decided you were probably faking but made you soup anyway. I just spent the time sitting at your kitchen table reading, I think it was Treasure Island, so when you brought the tray with the soup on it back because she’d put carrots in it and you don’t like them, I saw you.”

“I think I remember that gala. Blue has always been my color, but this time Mum let Annika get the blue dress and I was stuck with a green one, and I hate green so I wasn’t going to go!” Astrid blinked and stared at Kayden for a minute. “So that means you really are a boy under there? Weird.”

“The rooms in our dormitory wing are each set up for two students to share a bedroom and a bathroom, thus whoever would be chosen as Miss Winne’s roommate would have to be let in on the secret, in order to avoid undressing in front of her and the like. So that we needn’t share her secret with more people than necessary, the simplest solution is that you, Miss Vanderhausen, have been chosen to share Miss Winne’s room.”

Astrid wrinkled her nose. “Ew! You want me to room with some perv who’s gonna like rape me in my sleep? No way! Um, No way, Headmistress?”

Ms. Blackburn shook her head. “Have no fear, Miss Vanderhausen. Miss Winne is being regularly dosed with hormone-based medicine to prevent her from achieving sexual maturity as a male, and other drugs to eliminate her libido and her ability to become physically aroused. Your virtue will be in no danger from her. And should you demonstrate a willingness to cooperate with us in this matter, I am certain that your parents will be notified that your behavioral issues are improving. On the other hand, if you refuse to accept this mission, we may have to assign you less comfortable duties.”

Astrid rolled her eyes again. “Okay, so like instead of maybe getting come cool girl for a roommate, you’re making me live with a perv who, okay isn’t rapey, but is still like not a girl? And I’d have to pretend that there’s nothing abnormal about my roommate, and like when talking about then say ‘she’ and ‘her’ and stuff, even though that’s not right? And on top of all that, it’s my maid’s kid, so we’d like have nothing in common except coming from the same city? And the only plus side of this like deal, which is totally not really a deal, but a situation I’m being forced to accept, is that you’ll put in a good word with my folks, and maybe they’ll reward me with stuff or maybe even get me out of this place and send me to a real school? It sounds like that’s my best bet.”

Ms. Blackburn smiled. “Excellent logic, Miss Vanderhausen. It appears that we understand each other completely. In addition to sharing lodgings, you and Miss Winne will be in a number of classes together. Not all of them, she has a stronger aptitude for mathematics than you do (perhaps she may be able to help you with some of the difficult work) so she will be in a more advanced class, and your father wanted you to continue studying Mandarin whereas Miss Winne is taking French, and your gifted voice will put you in choir for music and Miss Winne is learning piano. When the two of you are together, I would like you to keep an eye out for any missteps she may be making that could possibly give her away, and let her know of them privately. Also, since your file shows you to have a history with bullying, you’ll likely be able to recognize those behaviors in others – if you notice students giving Miss Winne a hard time, which is bound to happen given her status as a scholarship student, it would be appreciated if you could stick up for her, and perhaps use some of your skills to turn it back around on the offender.”

Astrid’s jaw dropped. “Um, wait. You don’t have like one of those Zero Tolerance thingies about bullies? I thought this was like reform school or something?”

The headmistress’s smile broadened. “My dear Miss Vanderhausen, we are a school whose main purpose is to teach the daughters of families of distinction to become princesses who would be queens. A graduate of L’École pour les Dauphines is not a weak girl, but a confident young woman. Among ladies of society, being able to politely destroy an enemy with a precisely phrased remark is one of the most essential skills, and we would never want to break you of it. Miss Winne is not used to this environment, and will have to toughen up to survive here, but for this her first term here perhaps you could give her a few pointers, as one born into it.”

Astrid’s eyes twinkled as a smirk came to her lips. “You know, I actually think I might have fun here.”

Ms. Blackburn gestured toward the door. “Miss Winne, please show Miss Vanderhausen which room she’ll be staying in. You should find that Housekeeping has already unpacked her things.”

Nancy Patterson’s Criss-crossed Christmas Pageant
By Jennifer Brock

Nancy Patterson’s Christmas Pageant would be talked about for years, but not the way she’d been dreaming it would. (No offense is intended toward those who are active in their respective congregations.)

Tues, Dec 4

This was going to be her year to shine, she just knew it. The way things were falling into place, it was as though it had been foreordained. She’d put in her time on the oh-so-boring Christian Ed Committee, and had supported Bonnie Kendall last summer when she wanted to control the curriculum for the Vacation Bible School. This year the Christmas Pageant would be Nancy’s show! It almost didn’t happen, but then last August Helen Gardener, her only real competition for the job, had to move away when her husband’s company transferred him to Cincinnati. Nancy had been doing her research ever since then, and had a plan for how her pageant would be the best that Second Baptist had ever seen. She knew that fate was on her side when Kelly Turner had her baby in October, and little Rachel had proven to be the quietest and best behaved baby in the history of babies in church. She never made a peep, even when she wasn’t sleeping through the service. Nancy knew that she had to get Kelly to agree to let her use Rachel in the show — she’d be perfect as Baby Jesus, and would be loads better than the doll they usually used. A real live baby would be just the hook to get people talking. A girl playing Jesus shouldn’t bother anyone; babies were pretty much asexual.

Jim could have been a little more enthusiastic, though. She came rushing home from the board meeting and he made her wait until the commercial to tell him her news. “Honey, guess what?” He just shrugged, so she had to answer her own question. “I got it! They named me as Christmas Pageant Director for this year. Isn’t that wonderful?”

“That’s just great, Dear. Now move out of the way before Law & Order comes back on.”

“Don’t you understand what this means? I’ll have complete control over casting decisions, so that means Elizabeth will get to be the star. She was almost getting too old, but she’ll be perfect as Mary.”

“Our Elizabeth? As the Virgin Mary? She’s all arms and legs and tripping over her big feet these days. I’m not so sure she’d want to be on display up in front of people.”

“It’s tough being an eleven-year-old girl. She’s having an awkward little growth spurt right now, but she’s still the prettiest one in her class.”

“If you really think so. You’d know more about being an eleven-year-old-girl than I would, so I guess I’ll have to believe you on this. But don’t blame me when it blows up in your face.”

“I got Mike Sloan to agree to give us all the big empty cardboard boxes from his appliance store so I can use them to make my manger set. I’ve downloaded some plans from the internet for how to build it. It’s even got this hobby-horse kind of thing with a head on a stick for the donkey that carries Mary down the aisle, and when they get to the stable the stick goes in a slot so it seems to be looking out of a stall. The camels for the Wise Men do the same thing.”

“That actually sounds pretty cool.”

“Good. Bonnie volunteered Pete’s truck to help move the cardboard, and you’re helping him. They’ll meet you after church on Sunday. I want to get the stuff into the Sunday School rooms on time so I can get the junior high youth group to help with the construction.”

“But there’s an important game on Sunday. I can’t miss it.”

“You can and you will. If we’re going to make this the best pageant this town has seen it will require a few sacrifices from us all.”

“Talk down at the bar says the Methodists are going to have real sheep in their pageant this year. I’m not so sure you’ll be able to compete.”

“I never listen to rumors. You’re helping out on Sunday, and that’s final!”

Sunday, Dec 9

Nancy’s session in the morning where she met with all the kids to cast their parts went great. And Kelly agreed to let Rachel be in the play, as long as she herself could be sitting in the front row to watch out if anything went wrong. She helped Denise Cooper, the craftiest member of the quilting club, take all the children’s measurements, and they went through the old box of costumes together to figure out what would work and what wouldn’t, and Nancy sketched out some ideas for her on how they could be improved.

The junior high youth group even had fun working with the big sheets of cardboard, and they seemed to understand how to turn the diagrams she’d downloaded into reality. Steve and Judy Washburn, the youth leaders, thanked Nancy for picking them instead of the senior high kids to do the project, and thought that there shouldn’t be any difficulty getting it all ready on time.

She was in a wonderful mood that evening, but then sure enough as soon as she got home Jim was ready to pop her holiday cheer balloon.

“Everything’s coming together nicely. I tell you, Honey, this is Second Baptist’s year to shine. My pageant will be one for the memory books.”

“Don’t get your hopes up. I was talking to Kyle down at the hardware store, and he said that Ed Phillips was in there looking for temporary fencing that the Methodists could use to hold the sheep, so it’s definite.”

“Whatever. I don’t see what the big deal is, anyway. People don’t want to see smelly animals in church at Christmas; they want to see cute kids singing sweet carols. And that’s what we’ll deliver.”

“I hear Father Barb’s going for controversy this year.”

“Just because Reverend Carter made an alternative lifestyle choice, I don’t think you should call her ‘Father.’ What’s she doing now, anyway?”

“It seems she decided that the Episcopalians would have an ‘accurate’ nativity play this year with old geezers as wise men and teenagers as shepherds and she says the Holy Family were actually quite young, so she’s having Colleen Matthews play Mary.”

“Oh no! They’ll get all the word-of-mouth. Why would she pick someone like her to be the mother of Jesus?”

“I guess it makes some sense, since Mary was also unmarried and pregnant at the time, but how will they make her look un-pregnant after the kid is supposed to be born?” Jim thought of something and laughed. “Hey! do you suppose they’ll get Tim West to play God? He’s the one who knocked her up, after all.”

“I don’t think anyone’s proven that.”

“Come on! You just know it. That kid is a no-good bum and she’s stupid for letting him do that.”

“This is not what I wanted to talk about! You’re just making me so angry! Just go back to watching your game.”

“Ok. (Thank God for Tivo.)”

Sunday, Dec 16

The sets were coming along nicely, the kids were excited and eager to learn their parts, but as soon as the rehearsal started everything started falling apart. Nancy had taped lines on the floor of the Fellowship Hall to imitate where everything was up in the sanctuary, and the kids seemed to understand the concept. Elizabeth only tripped a couple times coming down the aisle, but Jeffrey Duncan, who was playing Joseph, was there to catch her. When they got to the part where, while a scripture was being read describing the birth, Elizabeth was to go down to the front row and Kelly handed Rachel to her. Rachel started fussing immediately, and Elizabeth was a little scared and didn’t quite hold her right, but carried her back to her spot in the tableau without tripping. However, the baby started crying and would not stop. Kelly stood up and started to go help, but Rachel’s older brother, nine-year-old Justin, broke formation from where he was standing with the other shepherds waiting for their entrance cue and got to his baby sister in no time. He picked her up and she stopped crying almost immediately. He tried showing Elizabeth how to hold her, but as soon as Rachel was back in her arms she started screaming again. Justin took his sister back and stood there holding her until she calmed down. Elizabeth got out of her chair and let Justin have it, so she could see how you’d hold a baby while sitting. He gently sat down and cradled Rachel in his arms, smiling down at her face. Nancy could swear the baby was smiling back.

Kelly made an aside to Nancy, “He has been such a helper with her. I was afraid the age difference would be an issue, but they have definitely bonded. And most of it just came naturally to him; I didn’t have to show him much at all.”

Denise got the idea that started the avalanche. She took a blue scarf from the wardrobe box and went over and draped it over Justin’s head, pinning it with bobby pins so that only the golden bangs of his “bowl” haircut peeked out. She stepped back and pointed, asking Nancy, “Is this or is this not the perfect image of a Madonna and child?”

Ignoring the vocabulary Denise had acquired while growing up Catholic, Nancy had to agree that Justin was a truly beautiful child, and the baby was behaving with him far better than she had for Elizabeth. A girl baby Jesus was one thing, but a boy Mary? Did she dare? A live baby was the key to her whole pageant, and if Justin was the only one she’d behave for, there was nothing she could do about it. She wished she’d come up with an alternative baby they could have tried, but she was stuck. Nancy nodded and said, “Yeah, ok. Let’s let Justin try being Mary and see how it goes.”

Elizabeth spoke up. “But, Mommy, if he’s going to be Mary? What will I do? You said I was going to have an important part.” Nancy tried to think for a moment, but she wasn’t fast enough for her daughter. “Hey! If we’ve got a girl Jesus and a boy Mary, how about you let me be Joseph?”

Nancy took a look at Elizabeth’s lanky body wearing her best khakis and the short hair style she got for playing soccer, and realized that it was easier to see her as a boy at that moment than it was to see Justin as one. She had Elizabeth get down on one knee beside the chair like Jeffrey had been, and it looked “right.”

But before she could say anything else, Denise got another crazy idea. “They look good together up there. Since we’ve gone this far, what if we switched everybody up, with boys as angels and sheep and girls as kings and shepherds?”

The kids all thought it would be fun, or at least the ones who didn’t weren’t as loud as the ones who did, so it all sort of happened before Nancy could express an opinion one way or the other. Before she knew it, a pack of girls who had until that moment been a unified host of angels were crowding her and asking who got to be the three kings. The four littlest girls, who had been sheep, could be swapped with the four junior shepherds easily enough, but which of the three older girls would make the best kings? Nancy looked around and a flash of inspiration hit her. There was more diversity in the girls than there had been among the boys. Her three kings would be Debbie Washington, who even though her mother was lily white was still brown as a UPS truck, Kimberly Stevens, the adopted Chinese girl (or was it Korean?), and Danielle Baker, who was so pale that her parents never let her outside in the summer, and people said she might be an alibino. They would add an exotic flair that the three regular-looking boys who’d previously had the roles would not have brought to them. The rest of the girls would get to be the shepherds.

She felt sorry for Jeffrey for losing his plum role after he’d been so good to Elizabeth, so she made him the angel with the speaking lines, while all the other boys were just the chorus. At first, the boys were reluctant to be angels, saying that they were girly roles, but then Bonnie spoke up and asked them if they could name any angels. They couldn’t, so then she told them about Gabriel, who blows a horn on Judgment Day, and Michael, who wields a flaming sword, and the boys thought that was pretty cool. She then told them to read their bibles and they can find that usually angels look like men when they want to look like people, not women, such as the nice young man who appeared by Jesus’ tomb. As the Sunday school coordinator, Bonnie tried to seize any opportunity to teach a lesson.

Nancy was losing control of the situation, but eventually all the kids settled into their new roles, and she ran through the program smoothly. They each got to take their printed parts home with them to learn their lines, and there would be a special dress rehearsal on Saturday afternoon. Denise had attached notes about costuming to each script, but that had been before the switch around, so she just told them to try to follow the notes, but not to worry if something didn’t make sense. Nancy wasn’t sure what that was about, so she just let it go.

She didn’t even get to tell Jim herself about the disaster. Elizabeth had gotten to him first and was all wound up about it and rushed to tell him immediately. She was too happy not to have to be Mary, and really thought she’d have fun as Joseph, and wanted her Daddy to help her learn to be a boy. She was so sincere that at least Jim couldn’t laugh in her face. Since Joseph was a carpenter, he decided to take her out to his workshop in the garage and teach her to make something from wood. He came to bed all proud of his daughter that Nancy couldn’t vent about anything with him. It was just as well; he’d probably only want to talk about those sheep again.

Saturday, Dec 22

Nancy’s week went fairly smoothly. Jim and Elizabeth spent most of their days in the garage and left her alone. Elizabeth was beaming at dinner time, and tried to tell Nancy how fun it was working with her father’s lathe, but all she heard was her baby playing with a dangerous machine, so she waited until bedtime to try to talk Jim out of letting her work with scary power tools. He reassured her and told her that she didn’t need to worry; he’d been making her recite the safety rules at the beginning of every session, and he was watching her closely with his hand close to the emergency shutdown switch. It was also important to have the right kind of protective gear, so after their first day together he went down to the hardware store and bought Elizabeth her own pair of goggles and work gloves. His makeshift solution had been for her to wear Nancy’s gardening gloves and him to wear his swimming goggles. As he told her about working with Elizabeth, he seemed almost as excited as she had at dinner. He expressed regret that he’d never really saw his child as anything but “a girl” before, and hadn’t even considered the possibility that she might enjoy some of his hobbies. Nancy was happy that they were finally bonding, but felt a little jealous when he told her that Elizabeth hadn’t been awkward or clumsy at all in the workshop, and even seemed to have a knack for it. Everything she’d tried to teach her daughter had never quite worked right, whether it was burnt cookies or a tangled mass of knotted yarn that was supposed to be a crocheted scarf. Nancy wanted to watch them to see how well they worked together, but Jim told her that the workshop was strictly off limits for her until after Christmas; Elizabeth was working on a present for her. At least Jim was spending his free time at home instead of hanging out at the bar. He hadn’t bothered her with any new rumors all week. And Elizabeth was doing the pageant with her, so it wasn’t like her daughter had abandoned her completely.

Thursday evening while Jim was out doing some last-minute Christmas shopping, Elizabeth was acting secretive. She went for a walk around the neighborhood then came back and asked for Bonnie’s phone number. Nancy eavesdropped and heard Elizabeth say, “Hello, Mr. Kendall. This is Elizabeth Patterson. I’m trying to surprise my dad for Christmas, and I thought you might be able to help.” Now that she knew what it was about, Nancy didn’t want to spoil anything, so she left the room and didn’t want any details. Pete showed up a few minutes later and Elizabeth asked if she could go with him to get something for her father, and Nancy didn’t have a good reason to turn her down. She noticed too late that Elizabeth had brought her work gloves and goggles with her. They weren’t gone very long, but when they came back Elizabeth had sawdust in her hair, and Pete carried something in a big black garbage bag up to her room. Nancy made sure to thank him for helping her daughter with whatever it was, and to wish him a Merry Christmas before he left.

Nancy hadn’t gotten a chance to read Denise’s costume notes until just before the dress rehearsal, and realized too late what a mess it was going to be. Her notes for Joseph and the shepherds were innocent enough, and simply said, “Costumes are hot and can be a little scratchy. Bring a pair of shorts and a plain white t-shirt that you can wear under your robe. If you have a pair of leather sandals (not flip-flops), bring them. If you don’t, leggings will be provided.” The one for the three kings wasn’t too bad; it said, “You’ll be dressing in front of other boys, so make sure you wear clean underwear like your mother always tells you to — an undershirt and ‘tighty whitey’ briefs, not boxers. (I know baggy boxers are cool and happening, but they ruin the line of the regal robes you’ll be wearing.) Wear black socks and good black dress shoes, like an oxford or a loafer, no sneakers even if they’re black leather.” The one for Mary was definitely going to be a problem. It was, “Your costume is a simple blue dress. It’s lined, but the fabric is still kind of rough so you’ll want to wear a camisole or a full slip under it. They shouldn’t show through, but just to be safe, make sure your panties are a light shade in a solid color not a pattern design. Wear leather sandals or other open-toed shoes. If your mom thinks that your feet will be too cold with bare legs and sandals, tell her to go to Madame Suzette’s Ballet Shoppe on Spring Street to get you a pair of tan tights - you can pretend you’re wearing pantyhose like a grownup lady. A little bit of a heel is ok, but not too dressy. Remember that even though you’re playing the mother of Our Lord, she was very poor. For the same reason, keep your jewelry simple. If there’s something you must wear (like a cross necklace or a birthstone ring or you just pierced your ears and can’t take out the studs) that’s ok, but don’t overdo it. A little lip gloss would probably be okay, but Mary really shouldn’t look like she’s wearing makeup.” The notes for the sheep turned those cute little boys practically into ballerinas: “Wear white panties with no patterns or colors so they don’t show through, plain white tights with no sheen or patterned stitching, and a white long-sleeved leotard. If you don’t have one, tell your mom to go to Madame Suzette’s Ballet Shoppe on Spring Street. The rest of your costume will be a fleece headpiece with your lamb ears, black mittens and booties to be your hooves, and a cute little tail stuck on your bottom.” And the angels had it even worse. Theirs said, “The dress you’ll be wearing is a little gauzy, so wear only white undergarments: plain white panties with no design, (No thongs — this is a church!) white bra or bralette if you wear one, and a white full slip or camisole and half-slip. Also wear plain white tights with no pattern or sheen. We want you all to look as uniform as possible, so it would be good if you could all wear a pair of white Mary Janes or ballet flats. If you don’t have any, go get a pair. Tell your mom it’s a great investment and perfect for you to wear with a nice pretty dress on Easter. Also so you’ll all match, and to represent the night sky, I’d like you to wear matching silver star-shaped earrings. If you haven’t got pierced ears, now’s the perfect time to convince your mom to let you - how can she say no when it’s for church? Go to Ears To You at the mall, and one of their sets of starter studs is silver stars. Tell them I sent you and get 10% off. I’m going to try to see if I can get matching silver wigs for you all, but just in case I can’t don’t put your hair in a style that uses ribbons or elastics or barrettes. You’ll be getting a headband that holds your halo up. Even if you wear makeup these days, bring a clean face. You’ll all be getting made up at the church with some pretty sparkly stuff. But do please paint your fingers with a pearly white nail polish ahead of time. If you don’t have the right shade we can do them for you, but we won’t have time for everyone.”

Denise told Nancy that some of the mothers had called her with questions, and she’d just told them that the notes were written before the parts were switched around, so she understood if they couldn’t get everything on the list, but that they should try to get as much as possible. Nancy was offended that Denise didn’t refer the mothers to her, since she was the one in charge, but she held her tongue.

It was a bit of a shock when three of the boys showed up to rehearsal in dresses. Justin was wearing a pretty green jersey dress with white lace trim. He was wearing cute little sandals on his feet, and Nancy could tell by the seams at his toes that he was wearing hose. His hair was parted in the middle and held back with white plastic barrettes. Kelly explained that he’d wanted to make sure he did a good job as Mary, so had been practicing all week in some clothes he’d borrowed from a cousin, and frankly she just couldn’t refuse to have a little helper even more interested in taking care of the baby. Kelly didn’t think she’d even touched a diaper all week; Justin had been so helpful. Eight-year-old Bobby Perrone, the youngest of the angels, was also dressed up. He wore a pretty pink dress tied with a bow in the back that was a little too fancy for the occasion, but he looked simply precious! There were new curls in his shiny black hair, which was held back with a pink headband. On his feet were the assigned white tights and Mary Janes with a slight heel, and his ears were pierced with silver stars like Denise had instructed, and he wore a cross necklace on a silver chain.

Bobby’s mother Kendra explained, “After Bobby told me that the boys and girls in the pageant had switched and he was going to be an angel, I read the costume instructions and realized that it was written expecting a little girl in the part. I imagined that if we did everything on the list, my son would look just like a little girl. It gave me some weird thoughts — what if we did make him look like a girl? I saw this as a perfect opportunity to learn if I’d missed out on anything by not having a daughter to do girl things with. I told Bobby I though it would be fun if we played dress-up for a week and pretended that he was a girl, but told him that any time he wanted to stop, we would and I wouldn’t be mad; if it wasn’t fun we could go back. I picked the right moment to get his father to go along with it, right after I gave him a certain Christmas bonus.” She gave the other moms a knowing wink. “And Bob agreed to let me play girl games with our child. He only had one condition: apparently his older sisters had teased him relentlessly when they were little, making him pretend to be a girl and calling him ‘Bobbi Jo,’ so his only restriction was that I had to call our child by something other than ‘Bobby’ when she’s dressed as a girl. So my little sweetheart and I looked at some Baby name websites and settled on ‘Robin,’ which can also be a diminutive for Robert, so it’s not a new name so much as a new nickname. Allow me now to introduce to you my daughter Robin.” She made a sweeping gesture and the child beside her gave a little curtsy. Judging by the way she was smiling broadly at her mother, clearly Bobby was enjoying being Robin for his Mommy. She did make a cute little girl, although not quite as pretty as Justin.

Kelly spoke up, “At this point I should probably tell you we’ve been calling Rachel’s big sister ‘Tina.’ It’s a joke Dave made, to change Justin’s name to ‘Justina,’ or ‘just Tina’ for short.” Tina set down her sister’s baby carrier, and went over to tell Robin how pretty her dress was.

Steven Brooks, who at nearly twelve was the oldest of the angels, was the last cast member to arrive. His mother Carol apologized that they were late, “We’d have been here on time, but Stephanie’s appointment at the beauty parlor ran late.” Her hesitant child followed her in on cue. Stephanie appeared to be a very lovely girl, just on the cusp of womanhood. She wore a red jersey dress under a white cardigan sweater, a more casual look than either of the younger “girls” that Nancy felt was more appropriate. Steven’s shaggy mousy mop had been colored, cut and styled into a honey-brown layered bob. The silver stars in her earlobes matched more dangling from a charm bracelet on her left wrist. Her cheeks were pink from embarrassment, but it looked like her lips might be wearing some gloss. Her legs were encased in the prescribed white tights, but her shoes were black patent leather. Nancy did notice that the required white shoes (unfashionable for wearing in public in the winter) were sticking out of a shiny black handbag that Stephanie carried. She moved delicately, but nervously looked around the room. Carol continued her explanation, “I brought her in to get her hair and nails done, but at the last minute decided to surprise her with her first leg waxing. I wanted to make sure she had an experience to remember.” Some of the other mothers giggled at this. Nancy looked and saw that Stephanie did have pretty new acrylic nails on her fingers; they looked probably a quarter inch long, in the pearly white color that Denise wanted. Stephanie looked uncomfortable at all the eyes in the room staring at her, and tried to give a little smile, but it just came across as fake like a beauty contestant. Her mother didn’t help the situation any. “I suppose you’re wondering why Stephanie went to such extremes to look pretty for this show. Well you see, last week when Steven brought home his pageant instructions, his sister started teasing him that he’d have to become a girl for Christmas, and kept calling him ‘Stephanie’ until I made her stop. As nice as it is to have Michelle home from college, she never did get along with her brother. I had been planning on only minimally making Steven into an angel for the play up until yesterday. He did something very wrong that broke a rule, violated my trust, and might even have ruined our Christmas. I came home early from shopping and caught him poking around in my closet, where he had no legitimate reason to be. He’d found where we’d hidden the presents and had started unwrapping the largest one to see what it was. It was just such an unappreciative, selfish thing to do. His father was livid when I told him about it. We have never struck our children and weren’t about to start, but at that moment the temptation was great. He needed an appropriate punishment. Michelle thought we should have to make him be Stephanie after all. His father wanted to just return his presents. We all sat own in the living room, and I showed him the package that he’d peeked at, completely unwrapped so he could tell it was that new Nintendo he’d been wanting for months, that his father had stood in line in the cold at midnight to buy for him, that would have made this his best Christmas ever, until he ruined it. I told him that even after all the effort it took to get, his father was ready to take it back to the store, so some child that knows how to be grateful could get it instead. I then explained his sister’s proposal to him, and gave him a choice: either the fancy videogame and all its accessories would go back to the store, or he’d agree to spend the rest of his vacation as Stephanie, dressing and acting as a proper young lady, cheerfully and without complaint, until he had to go back to school. You see before you the results of his decision.” The expression on Carol’s face seemed to show that she was still somewhat disgusted. Nancy thought Stephanie was struggling to keep from shedding tears, but it did make her eyes sparkle nicely.

With all those distractions out of the way, Nancy organized all the children, sorting them into the Sunday School rooms, which they would be using for changing costumes. A little sign she’d taped to each door indicated which actors were to use which room. Once all the kids and the mothers who’d come with them were in the right rooms, Denise then went around distributing the costumes to each. Nancy went into the room where Elizabeth and the shepherd girls were putting woven wool robes on over their shorts and t-shirts, and they only needed help figuring out how to put on their headdresses. There was this one part that draped over the head, and then a band went on top of it to hold everything on. She checked to see how things were going in the other rooms. She checked first on the three kings, and the three girls were getting dressed without difficulties, but they were all very giggly. It turned out that Kimberly had taken their costume instructions literally and worn a pair of boys’ underpants. (They originally would have been a Christmas present for her brother from their parents.) In light of Tina, Robin and Stephanie it wasn’t that extreme, but they all thought it was outrageously funny anyway. Nancy went on to check in on the angels, since they were the ones with the biggest issues. Oddly enough, it turned out that the boys who’d shown up in dresses had a less embarrassing time changing, since their slips kept them mostly covered even when they were standing in their underwear. Carol was passing around a roll of surgical tape, and telling the boys that it would really ruin the flow of their pretty angel gowns to have a little bump sticking out in the front. Pointing out how smooth Stephanie looked, she described how she’d read up on professional female impersonators, and learned that they used tape to tuck away unwanted bulges. She tried to explain what to do, and ended up gesturing with her hands on herself, that they needed to pull “it” down and back between their legs, and then run a strip or two of tape across to hold it in place, making sure not to cover the hole on the end so they could still use the bathroom if they had to, and when they did to make sure they wipe. The men who do it also have to do some complicated thing with their testicles, but these boys were probably too young to need anything like that. In next to no time, all six angels were taped down inside their panties, and had their tights pulled back up. Tina and Robin even wanted to try taping, although they’d already been tucked back without it. It was coming along nicely until one of the other angels, ten-year-old Connor Bartlett, noticed an extra pair of straps under Stephanie’s straps and realized she was wearing a bra and pointed it out to the others, who started laughing. Stephanie’s lower lip was trembling, and it seemed that she was ready to start crying. Nancy had to do something. The slightly padded bra really did help her figure, though.

“All right, stop that right now. First of all, this is still a church. Can you really say that you were doing unto Stephanie as you would have her do unto you? Secondly, I think she looks very nice with the proper foundation undergarments, and some of you can only wish you could look as good, but there are two or three of you, I won’t be rude and name names, would definitely be improved by a little more definition and contour up there. Your angelic gowns are hanging a little too shapelessly. Since it’s only the rehearsal, we won’t put you all in makeup, but we wanted to do one today to make sure the look will work. Stephanie, please go to the Ladies’ room and wash your face so Mrs. Cooper can practice with you.” Stephanie scurried out and was in the Ladies’ room before she had the chance to think about whether it was the right restroom. Nancy hoped it would give her the chance to pull herself back together. A weeping angel wouldn’t be good for the show. Nancy took another look at the rest of the angels. Patrick Thatcher, a heavy boy the most in need of a bra, was the only other one with silver stars in his earlobes. “I’m really surprised that so few of you had the guts to get your ears pierced. I mean, even the youngest one of you could do it.” She patted Robin on the head. “But the rest of you were just big sissies and couldn’t do it.” That was a very strange thing to say to a bunch of boys in pretty dresses, but Nancy ran with it. “I’ve seen plenty of handsome guys on Hollywood magazines with earrings, so it can’t be you skipped because it wouldn’t look good. It’s not even permanent; if you decided down the road that you didn’t want to look cool anymore, you’d just have to take them out and let the holes heal.” The angels seemed adequately subdued, so Nancy went along to the next room while they were fitted for their wings and Denise came to pass out their wigs and then do Stephanie’s makeup. As if enough things hadn’t gone wrong, the next room showed another problem. The costumes for the four little boys playing sheep were nothing but leotards and tights, and their little lumpy bits were practically obscene. Clearly they needed Carol’s tape, so Nancy ran back to get her.

Once everyone was in costume, they all gathered in the sanctuary. Denise brought Stephanie in, and they saw what she’d done to her face. Her eyes looked very pretty, highlighted with dark eyeliner and mascara, and with glittery silver eye shadow contributing to the twinkling angel effect, echoed in her sparkly lip gloss and general dusting of glitter powder. When combined with her platinum wig, it all produced an appropriate halo effect that went beyond the simple tiara-like headband the angels wore. In her white feathered wings and silver gauzy gown, she almost looked like something out of a lingerie catalog. Nancy imagined that when all the angels were done up like that it would make quite a visual.

They were joined by Kate Vincent the choir director and Pastor Moore and they worked their way through the program, showing how it all came together. The minister pulled Nancy aside for a few questions about the “unusual casting.” He asked if the pageant had been hijacked as part of some gay agenda, and she tried to explain how it started with the only child who the girl Jesus would sit still for was a boy Mary, and it all sort of snowballed from there. The kids were just acting; no one as far as Nancy knew was any kind of homosexual, and it might end up promoting some understanding between the boys and the girls after walking a mile in each other’s clothes, as it were. He accepted her explanation and she didn’t have to scrap it and go back to Square One, but he did plan on working some words indirectly about homosexuality into his brief sermon during the show.

The rehearsal went well. The children for the most part remembered their cues, and really shone when they had to break into song. In particular, Tina completely floored everyone with her solo on the Coventry Carol, looking down at her sister as though Mary was singing a lullaby to the baby. Elizabeth was even so moved that she reached out and put her arm around her and also smiled at the baby. It seemed perfectly spontaneous and in character for Joseph to do, so Nancy told her she could do it again in the real performance if it felt right. The song the kids had the most fun with was “Do You Hear What I Hear,” which was staged as a sort of “Farmer in the Dell.” It started with Jeffrey coming down from the assembled choir of angels at the altar to stand in front.of the tableau in the middle of the stage area. The angels sang the first verse of the song, with Jeffrey alone singing the “Do You Hear What I Hear” part solo, as he beckoned to where the shepherds were arranged to the right of the scene. And then little five-year-old Evan Miller ran up to stand next to Jeffrey and took the solo on the second verse, which was sung by the cute little sheep boys. Evan signaled Kayla Wright to join them, and she took the solo for the third verse, which was sung by the shepherds, and she signaled to Debbie, who came over from where the kings were arranged on the left side to take the solo on the last verse, and she belted it out in a full gospel style that worked brilliantly as everyone joined in on the last line.

Nancy was certain the show would go well, and tried to tell Jim how incredible the rehearsal went when they got home, but something in his eye told her that he had more news about the stupid Methodists and their stupid sheep, so she let Elizabeth tell her dad how cool it was instead, and then the two of them disappeared to go play in the workshop.

Sunday, Dec 23

They had another run through of everyone’s lines during the Sunday School session, and everyone seemed to do well. Tina was back to being Justin for church, but Robin wore a pretty red dress with white snowflakes embroidered on it, and Stephanie wore a crisp white blouse and a gray woolen skirt over nicely ribbed gray tights and the same patent leather shoes. After the service, when Carol was enjoying the coffee hour and chatting with friends, Nancy could tell that Stephanie was trying not too look impatient while waiting. Nancy was about to go up and talk to her but then she saw that Brian Somers, the youngest member of the junior high group was approaching her with two cups of punch. Nancy held back but stayed within eavesdropping range.

Brian offered Stephanie some punch and she thanked him like a proper young lady is expected to. He said, “You look really pretty. It’s hard to believe you’re really a boy. Is it true what they’re saying?”

Stephanie had a brief smile when he told her she was pretty, but it soon became a look of worry. “Um, what are they saying?”

“You got in trouble and have to be a girl until Christmas.”

“Well, actually it’s through Christmas. Steven doesn’t get to come back until school starts up again.”

“That’s rough, man… or girl, or whatever. What did you do to deserve something so harsh?”

“I snuck a peek at my presents. I wanted to know if I was getting the Nintendo Wii I asked for. And they said they’d take it back if I didn’t agree to do this,” and she gestured over her outfit, “So it really wasn’t much of a choice, even though I don’t get to play with it while I’m being a girl.”

“I guess you could say you traded your wee-wee for a Wii.” Stephanie laughed at that stupid crude joke more than it deserved. “Wow. I thought you were pretty before, but you look even more beautiful when you laugh and make a real smile. I think you’re probably the prettiest girl here.”

Stephanie blushed. “Thanks, but I know you’re just being nice. The real girls here are much better looking.”

Brian shook his finger at her. “I never say something I don’t mean. I wouldn’t want to be talking to any of those other girls.” Even at thirteen he was quite the charmer. “What would you say if I told you I knew a way you could play with a Wii sooner? We’ve got one at home, and we’re probably getting new games and stuff for it for Christmas. Anyway, my folks are throwing a big party on New Year’s Eve and said that I could invite a friend over to keep me company down in our basement. We could play games, watch a video, eat some party food. What do you say?”

“Why not ask someone else from the junior high group?”

“They’re all older than me, so they always pick on me. You’re actually closer to my age than any of them.”

“You know it would have to be me like this, not as a guy, right?”

“That’s sort of the best part. It’s like I’d be having a pretty girl over for like a date, but it would be more like practice for a date, because I wouldn’t have to be all nervous about how to act around a real girl, and I wouldn’t have to worry about not being able to talk to you or anything. So, you interested?”

Stephanie took a moment to think, and Nancy wondered if she knew she was sending Brian all kinds of flirtatious signals with the way she touched his arm when she talked to him, and the way she brushed back her hair, or the way she made only fleeting eye contact. “Ok. I think that’s probably the best offer I’m going to get for New Year’s but I’ll have to see if it’s okay with my mom.”

“Let’s go ask her, then.” Brian held Stephanie’s hand and led her across the room and out of Nancy’s earshot. If Brian and Stephanie were making a date, did that make them gay? It was very confusing, so she tried not to think about it.

Monday, Dec 24

The night of the actual pageant, Nancy was very nervous. Jim had been very sweet and had gotten Elizabeth to help him make dinner while she took a nice, relaxing bath. It was nice to see the two of them working so well together. Jim dropped her and Elizabeth off at the church early, and would join her in the congregation later. As the kids were checking in to get their costumes, she saw that this time around, all the angels showed up with dresses on over their slips; they all had stars in their earlobes; by all appearances they had all taped themselves down before coming in; they all had painted their fingernails before getting to the church; and Jeffrey, Patrick and a third boy, Scott Phillips, were all wearing bras. Nancy would also learn that the three giggly kings were all wearing y-fronts under their regal robes. The sheep had to be taped down again, but that wasn’t a big deal. Denise started with Stephanie’s makeup again, and then had Bonnie, Kendra, and Carol help her as a sort of assembly line to duplicate that look on the other angels. Everyone was ready and in their places right on schedule. After the last set of players, the three kings, made their entrance correctly, Nancy slipped into the front row pew and took her spot between Jim and Kelly. The audience loved the show, and applauded both Tina’s and Debbie’s solos, even though you’re not supposed to do that in a church.

When it came time for Pastor Moore’s words, he thanked all the “brave girls and beautiful boys” for putting on a good performance, and then had Nancy stand up to thank her for her direction, and she had the other helpful workers on her crew stand up with her, so it would look like she didn’t want all the credit, and thanked the junior high youth group for the wonderful set. The pastor then went into his sermon about the True Meaning of Christmas, and Nancy had to pay close attention to notice that when he said, “even though we live in a permissive society, we are still called upon as Christians to live by a stricter set of rules,” he was speaking out against homosexuality. She only caught it because she was looking for it. She wondered if Brian and Stephanie were still planning a date, and whether they’d be breaking any of his rules if they were. What do twelve-year-olds do on a date these days? She’d better find out before Elizabeth starts dating. Oh, that’s a whole other can of worms best left unopened, to worry about some other day. And then the pastor was wrapping up and everyone stood for the offertory. Another bible passage and then they handed out the little candles for everyone and passed the flame. The kids got in formation perfectly and as the lights went out the congregation sang “Silent Night” while the children slowly walked down the aisle and back out to the Sunday School rooms. Nancy and her team snuck out and met them there.

It was a scene of organized chaos as the costumes came off and the children put their regular clothes back on, but most of them weren’t changing into what they’d arrived in.
Nancy thanked everyone for participating and wished them all a Merry Christmas. After the angels washed their faces with cold cream wipes, except for Robin who wanted to stay pretty a little longer, most of them took off their slips, and a couple even changed out of their panties and into boys’ underpants. Robin had on yet another party dress, Tina wore the dress she came in, and Stephanie changed into a pretty long sleeved velvet dress that was black on the top and red on the bottom. Nancy told her she looked nice and she said her family would be going to a late supper at her grandmother’s so she wanted to dress up. She even wore a little bit of pink lip gloss. Nancy caught Robin asking her mother if they could invite Tina to the “pretty dress tea party” they were going to have on Wednesday. She wasn’t sure if she should feel guilty about starting these boys on their girlish paths, but she didn’t think it was hurting any of them. She got Elizabeth and found Jim and they drove home. Their family tradition was to each open one gift on Christmas Eve and save the rest for morning. Elizabeth really wanted her parents to open the gifts from her as their one gifts. She was very excited, so Nancy didn’t want to let her down. She opened her package and it contained three beautiful wooden candlestick holders of differing heights but similar contoured shapes. They were stained a rich color that really brought out the grain. Elizabeth was smiling broadly.

“Thank you very much, Sweetie. They’re beautiful. Are these what you were helping Daddy make down in the workshop?”

Jim corrected her. “Actually, Honey, she made them pretty much by herself. I showed her what to do and she practiced each of those curves several times on some junk wood before we committed to the good stuff. All I did was load the wood in the lathe and help align it in the drill press for the candle hole. The rest is all Elizabeth.” He looked so proud of his daughter. Her present for him was three oddly shaped objects wrapped in newspaper that she had covered in Christmas stickers. She said they all went together so it should count as one present. He tore off the newspaper and there was a rotten-looking old log — did Elizabeth get her father firewood for the stove in his workshop? But Jim looked far too happy to be receiving firewood, and quickly ripped open the other two, to see more logs. He was almost giddy and asked Elizabeth, “Where did you get this?”

“It’s that old dead apple tree from Mr. Edwards’ backyard. You said you’d been wanting it for some time.”

“How did you get it?”

“I went over to Mr. Edwards and asked if he’d ever wanted to get rid of that old tree before the next storm, and told him I could get it done for free. It’s hard for an old guy like that to say no to a cute kid, so I used my best puppy eyes, and he said yes. Then I called Mr. Kendall, and told him I knew where he could get some apple wood for his meat smoker, and all he’d have to do is cut it up with his chainsaw and haul most of it away. I only wanted three pieces from the root, the trunk where the twisted branch came out, and the part where the lightning had hit it, and Mr. Kendall got to keep the rest. Did I do good?”

“You did incredible, Kiddo. These will make excellent bowls, and you’re going to one of them yourself.” He gave her a hug, and that was the closest Nancy had ever seen them. “To stay on the same theme, I think I know which present you should open now.” He pulled out a big box that Nancy didn’t recognize and gave it to Elizabeth. She opened it and pulled out a pair of brown canvas carpenter pants just like the ones Jim likes to wear in the workshop, and a red thermal shirt like his, and a pair of work boots. The last thing in the box was a small red and black plastic toolbox. “I thought if you were going to keep working down there with me, we ought to get you the right stuff to wear, and the box at first can be a place to keep your gloves and goggles, but eventually we’ll get you your own set of tools every time you learn how to use a new one.” Elizabeth gave him a big hug, and Nancy could see that she was almost crying in joy.

It took them forever to get her into bed, but eventually she settled down and they could enjoy a glass of wine. He toasted her job well done, and said he hoped her pageant was everything she wanted it to be. She asked him if he was really that excited about some old pieces of wood, and he actually said it was the best present he’d ever gotten, since it showed that his daughter actually understood him. Nancy sighed and realized that if crossing gender lines could bring the two people she most cared about together, maybe her crisscrossed pageant wasn’t such a crazy thing after all.

Stephanie’s Deal by Jennifer Brock

This serial is a spinoff from my holiday story, Nancy’s Patterson’s Criss-Crossed Christmas Pageant. The first couple of episodes overlap the timeline of that story, but from a different point of view. Later chapters will continue showing what happens to Stephanie, for as long as she exists.

Episode 1

It seemed like “You aren’t living up to your potential” was Steven’s mother’s favorite phrase. Any time his older sister Michelle would bring home a B on her report card, the parents were always “Good job, honey!” But if Steven got a B, they were all “Try harder next time.” While it was true that he could get B’s without trying much at all, it wasn’t fair! Just once, he’d like to be the favorite!

Then that stupid baby wouldn’t shut up at the stupid Christmas pageant rehearsal, and suddenly Mrs. Patterson was switching all the parts around, and before anyone could protest, the girls had the boys’ parts and the boys had the girls’ parts. It was nuts! He wasn’t very happy at all to be an angel.

But the worst part, the worst part, was when busybody Michelle home from her fancy college saw his pageant flyer on the kitchen counter, and started laughing at him. She claimed that the paper said he needed to wear a bra and panties and other girlie underwear stuff under his angel dress, but she wouldn’t show it to him. She said it would be nice to have a little sister again, and the memories all came rushing back.

When Michelle was nine and Steven was three, she used to dress him up in her old clothes (or maybe it was doll dresses) and say he was “her little sister Stephanie.” She made him have tea parties with her, where he’s have to refer to one of her dolls as his baby, and Michelle would have one of hers, and they’d talk about stupid girl things. Or they’d play with her Barbie dollhouse, and Steven always had to be Skipper, he was never Ken. And one time she actually made him go outside in a dress to learn to play hopscotch. Mom never stopped her; she was just happy to see her kids playing together. But there was nothing Steven could do about it.

Michelle asked their mother, “When you go shopping for Stephanie’s panties, can I come with?” Mom read the note and giggled a little and said Michelle could tag along, but Steven had to go himself as well. Michelle didn’t let it go and said, “Come on, Stephanie, it will be fun!” He tried to make her stop but she just got worse. On the way to the mall she said stuff like, “Gee, Stephanie, why are you so down? The day a girl gets her first bra is supposed to be a happy one.”

Mom didn’t make her stop teasing, and even joined in accidentally. She said, “The paper said a bra was optional. We’ll try on a slip in the changing room, and see if she needs a bra to make it hang better.”

Steven did his best to try to be invisible, and hope that the humiliation got over quickly. Mom led them straight to the girls’ underwear section, accompanied by a half a million “Stephanie’s” from Michelle. She grabbed a four-pack of medium size white panties, and handed it to him while she held up white lacy slips against him to figure out what size, and picked out a couple of them and then found another rack where it was like they’d separated the top part of the slip from the bottom part and she took some of those, and then she picked out three or four different bras and got some white pantyhose.

Then came the really embarrassing part, when she found a store clerk and said that she needed to go into a changing room with her son to try on some lingerie, but she didn’t know whether to use the men’s or women’s rooms. The clerk seemed to take a moment to keep from chuckling and said that the ladies’ changing rooms would be fine. Mom also checked that it would be okay to open Steven’s package of panties in the changing room, as long as she promised to purchase them.

The only saving grace was that Michelle waited outside the changing area. His mother had Steven strip completely naked, and then she handed him a pair of panties to put on. They weren’t very different from his usual underwear; they just had a thinner waistband and no flap in the front. But when he put them on, they came to a different place on his body than usual, and it felt weird. Mom said they fit perfectly, except for the little bulge that seemed out of place. Even though Steven was already blushing, he turned a deeper shade of red.

The next thing to go on was the white pantyhose, which his mother called “tights.” She said that they were just like Batman wears, so he shouldn’t have a problem with them. Of course Batman didn’t wear panties under his, so it wasn’t a fair comparison, but at least she was trying. They kind of went on like pants, but slower. It was obvious why they were called tights; Mom showed him how he had to stretch them out as he pulled them up. When they were in place, she had him do this weird dance to get them to sit right in the crotch. He did not feel at all like Batman — Batgirl, maybe.

And it only got girlier. Mom had him raise his arms and pulled a silky slip over his head and then tugged at the lace hem to try to see how it sat on him. She looked at him from a couple different angles, clucked her tongue, and then said the words he feared most, “You’re going to need a bra with this.” She pulled the slip off over his head and then went to her small stack of bras. The first one she tried was almost like a tank top, only it stopped in the middle of his chest with a really tight band, and the straps were very thin. It was uncomfortable, but he really had nothing to compare it to. Mom pulled the slip back over his head and looked at it, then shook her head. She said he needed one with more definite cups.

The next one she tried had a couple of triangles on the front where the boobs would go. Unlike the last one, it went on frontwards. He put his arms through the straps, and she wrapped the band around and hooked it in back, then played with the little buckles on the straps. It fit better than the last one, and he made the mistake of telling his mother it was more comfortable. She brightened up and told him that she was glad he was getting into it. It might have been comfortable, but it looked funny. There was a pleat in the middle of each triangle that wanted to be filled with something he just didn’t have. His mother seemed to agree when she saw the slip over it.

The third one was even more like a real bra. It had white lace panels on its rounded cups, and once she had settled it into place, Steven saw that the cups had some padding in them. It looked like he had real boobs, and when the slip came down it seemed even more like they belonged there. His mother fluffed his hair and said that he really looked like a real girl. She told him not to take anything off and made him wait in the booth while she handed the things she didn’t want to the attendant.

When she came back, she had Michelle with her. “You look really cute, Stephanie.” She made him spin around so she could see the back. “It’s too bad we’re not buying you a dress to go over that, or you could wear it out of the store.”

Mom actually did want him to keep the tights on since they’d be going shoe shopping next, so he had to leave the panties on, too. She did take off his slip, though, and he put his pants on to avoid feeling too embarrassed. Mom asked him if he was forgetting something, and pointed at his bra. He tried reaching around behind his back, but he couldn’t figure out how to unfasten it.

Michelle took his hands. “Come here, Sis. I can show you how to unhook that. But you know, if you leave it on you’ll look like a girl even in your jeans and shirt. Maybe it would be easier for you to go shopping for girls’ shoes if the shoe guy thought you were a girl. What do you say, Stephanie?”

Steven looked at his mother and she just shrugged, saying that Michelle had a point. Against his better judgment, Steven kept the bra on and his mother cut the tag off so she could pay for it. Steven put his shirt back on and it looked weird with the little bumps sticking out, but he did admit that he seemed girlish.

Michelle stopped him from exiting, saying that there were three things that would make Stephanie perfect. First, she took the plastic headband off of her own head and then put it on her new little sister, which instantly made his hairstyle feminine. Second, she had him make a little kissy mouth and she pulled a tube of lip gloss out of her purse and brushed some on his lips. The third thing was really mortifying. She said that little girls didn’t have lumps in the front of her pants, and he needed to open his jeans and reach down into his panties and push his thing back between his legs. He didn’t quite understand what she meant, so she reached in there and did it herself. That earned her a shocked look from Mom, but she did agree that Stephanie looked much better.

Confident in his disguise, Steven didn’t feel quite so self-conscious as they stood at the cashier to pay for his girls’ underwear. When they left the store he thanked his sister for her help, and she gave him a little hug. It was weird — normally they couldn’t stand each other. It was like Michelle liked him better as a girl.

The shoe store was halfway down the mall. Since they wanted white shoes, which were out of season, they had to go to a specialty store. Mom said she wasn’t sure if her daughter’s feet had grown any, and Stephanie happily sat in the chair while the shoe man measured her foot. He asked what kind of shoes they were looking for and when she pulled the paper out of her purse to double check, Stephanie’s cover was blown.

“White Mary Janes or ballet flats? Oh! You must be one of those angel boys from Second Baptist. Getting in a little practice being a girl, are you? You’re not the only one. There was a pretty little thing in here earlier that you never would have expected wasn’t what she appeared.”

Steven was crushed. Of course if there was only one store that sold the right kind of shoes, they’d already know about the pageant. Michelle must have figured it out or something and used it to trick him so she could dress him as a girl, just like when they were little. He wanted to rip the stupid girl stuff off and run out of there, but it was under his clothes and being naked in the mall would be even worse. He squeezed his hand into a fist and tried not to give her the satisfaction of seeing him cry.

Mom made him walk around a little in the shoes. They had more heel than he was used to, so it felt weird, but she thought they’d work just fine. Michelle winked and said “Looking good, Sis! Put a little more hip into it and you’ll drive all the boys crazy.”

When they got home he went into his room and tried to take off all the stupid girl stuff, but he couldn’t get his bra off and had to call his mother to help. She was busy and sent his sister instead. How could she be so insensitive? Didn’t she realize what Michelle had done to him? For her part, Michelle also played it cool, acting as though she hadn’t tried to trick him. She showed him how the bra hooks worked, and placed his hands for him where he’d be able to do it himself. She’d brought in his slip and the rest of his panties, and cleared a space in his top drawer for all his new special clothes. Steven just wanted to be left alone. She patted him on the head and took her headband with her. He’d forgotten that he was even wearing it.

That wasn’t all he’d forgotten. At dinner that night his father was giving Steven a weird look, and finally asked him if he was wearing lipstick. Michelle corrected him that it was lip gloss, and they all explained about the pageant and the mall and pretending to be Stephanie. Dad thought it was funny, and asked if he could see his new daughter, so after dinner Steven was once more dressed by his mother and sister in his full regalia. He said that Stephanie was very pretty, and made her give her Daddy a kiss on the cheek before sending her away.

The rest of the week was more or less normal, except that Michelle kept calling him Stephanie. By Friday even Mom was tired of it and made her stop. That night, while his father was out at his monthly poker game and his mother and sister were out finishing their Christmas shopping, Steven took advantage of being left home alone.

He knew Michelle was the favorite, but he needed to know whether his parents cared about him at all. There was only one Christmas present he’d asked them for, and if they really loved him they would have bought it. He knew his mother usually hid the presents in her bedroom closet, but when he peeked in there he was foiled. The presents were already wrapped. But he had a solution to that problem as well. There was one box that could have been his treasure, and it was indeed addressed “To Steven from Mom and Dad.” He got a knife from the kitchen and very carefully cut through the tape at the end of the box, and very gently unwrapped the box enough that he could see that this present was in fact the Nintendo Wii he’d asked for. His parents did care after all!

He was doing his little happy dance when suddenly the bedroom door opened and there was his mother. “Steven Thomas Brooks! What are you doing in my closet?” She saw the partially unwrapped present and turned red. “Go. To. Your. Room. Now, Mister!”
Steven slunk off to his room while his mother continued to yell at the back of his head.
“When your father gets home, we’ll discuss your punishment. I’d come home to get my wallet out of my other coat, but there’s no way I’m going to leave you alone now. I’ll call your sister and see if she can get a ride from someone else. You’ve been very inconsiderate, young man.”

His parents had never given him severe punishments before, but he’d never really done anything as obviously wrong either. He sat in his room fearing what would happen for a couple hours or so when the door opened and his father told him to go to the dining room for a family meeting. He did not look happy.

When Steven entered the dining room, he saw three angry faces. As soon as he sat down, his father started the speech. “We are very disappointed in you. Your mother showed me what you did, and not only have you cut everyone’s plans short tonight, but you might have ruined our Christmas. We didn’t raise you to be an unappreciative brat, and I hope you understand the magnitude of what you have done.” Steven only nodded. “Now, my opinion was that unappreciative brats shouldn’t get expensive presents that their fathers had to wait in freezing lines to buy for them, so I suggested that your punishment should be that we return your presents to the store, so that maybe they could be bought for some other kid, who deserves them. But your mother doesn’t think that would be enough.”

She spoke up, “Just not having something wouldn’t be a strong enough reminder. I wanted to come up with a punishment where you’d have to constantly think about what you’ve done and realize that you’ve completely lost our trust. I brainstormed to come up with something, but then your sister suggested something that made sense to me. She saw how annoyed you were with her calling you Stephanie and how irritated you were at dressing up like a girl, so her proposal is that you become Stephanie full-time.”

Steven didn’t understand what she was saying, and his face made that clear. Michelle stepped into the conversation, and slid a piece of paper across the table to him. “Here’s the deal: from now until you have to go back to school, you’ll have to dress in girl clothes, act in a completely girlish manner, and answer to the name Stephanie. But more than that, you can’t whine or complain or refuse to do anything a real girl would do. This paper makes it official. If you sign here, it means you agree to dress and act as a proper young lady, cheerfully and without complaint, until your school resumes classes and you can go back to being Steven. If you don’t take this deal, we go with Dad’s idea, and your cool new videogame goes back to the store, which is a shame because I was looking forward to kicking your butt at it. It also goes back if at any point you try to back out of the deal, or don’t uphold your end. Furthermore, if Steven’s not here on Christmas, neither will his presents, so they won’t come out of the closet until he’s back. Do you understand this deal?”

Steven nodded. “I think so. Either I become a girl for a week and a half, or I lose all my presents? And if I try and mess up I lose all my presents anyway?” He understood correctly. So he was being challenged. The only way he could earn back their trust would be to take this deal and put his everything into being the best girl he could be. It was weird, but it wouldn’t be for very long, and since he had to be a girl for the pageant anyway, that was one day that would take care of itself. He picked up the pen and signed his name on the paper.

Mom stood up. “Okay, Stephanie. The first thing you need to do is get rid of all your boy clothes. There’s a stack of plastic storage totes in the living room that I usually use for storing my winter clothes. Bring them to your room. Take off what you’re wearing now and put them in the laundry. Since I don’t want you running around naked, put on a pair of panties and your slip. It will have to serve as your nightgown for tonight. Then I want you to empty you bureau and your closet into the totes, with the only exception being the new things we bought you on Monday. Leave the full totes in the hallway, and your father will take them down to the basement. When all Steven’s clothes are out of your room, I want you to go to bed. I’m going out now to a store that’s having an all-night sale, so you’ll have something to wear. Do you understand?”

Steven took a moment to think about how a proper young lady would respond. He folded his hands in his lap. “Yes, Mother. I can do that. Thank you for going out so late to buy me some new clothes. I will try to do my best to deserve them. May I please be excused?”

His mother was in a bit of shock over the drastic change in his manner, so it took her a while to answer. She dismissed her child and Stephanie thanked her and slipped into the living room to go about her chores. Still furious from Steven’s transgression, she drove her older daughter off to the store to get some things for her younger one. She hoped that this whole thing wouldn’t be a mistake.

Steven had only been told to wear a slip and panties, but he put on his bra, too. He thought it would make Stephanie feel more girlish. He knew that the only way this was going to work would be if he put every effort into becoming Stephanie, to make her as real as possible. He started throwing his clothes into the totes, but then she realized that that was not the way a proper young lady would put away clothes. She dumped everything out on her bed and then carefully folded each item before placing it neatly in the tote. After dismantling Steven’s entire wardrobe, she was exhausted. Even though she was very nervous about what challenges the next morning would bring, she fell asleep almost immediately upon climbing under the covers. She just hoped that Stephanie lived up to her potential.

Stephanie’s Deal by Jennifer Brock So far, Steven has agreed to become Stephanie for a week and a half as a punishment. In this installment, Stephanie accepts an offer that perhaps she shouldn’t.

Episode 2

Steven awoke abruptly, as his mother was standing by the bed, shouting at him, “Up and at ‘em, Princess! We’ve got a busy day ahead of us.” She whipped the blanket off him and he saw the frilly slip and felt the tight band of his bra around his chest, and remembered what had happened the day before. He’d agreed to pretend to be a perfect girl, as punishment for peeking at his Christmas present. In the cold light of day, he wondered whether that was the right decision, but in his heart he knew that a Nintendo Wii would be worth eleven days of playing dress-up; how hard could it be? He blinked a couple times and tried to think about what a well-mannered girl would say.

Stephanie sat up and swung her legs out of bed. “Good morning, Mother. What would you like me to do first?” Mom was disappointed in how she got out of bed, and made her go back and repeat it until she could do it while keeping her knees together and without letting her slip ride up. Stephanie apologized and thanked her mother for helping her become a proper young lady.

She then handed Stephanie a new fuzzy pink bathrobe and told her to go take a bath using the soap and bubble bath in the basket on the bathroom counter. They had an appointment at the beauty parlor later, so she didn’t need to wash her hair. Steven didn’t want to think about what would happen at the beauty parlor, so he decided to have fun playing with the bubbles. Girls were lucky that they didn’t outgrow bubble baths as early as boys; he could even remember seeing TV commercials where grownup ladies were soaking in bubbles. When Stephanie was sure she’d used her flowery soap everywhere that mattered, she rinsed off and got out of the tub. She saw a big pink towel hanging on the rod where Steven’s usual towel would be, and used it to dry off. She smelled fancy and girlish everywhere and her new bathrobe felt very nice on her naked skin.

Stephanie had to do a double take when she walked into her room. While she was in the bath, someone had been busy. Steven’s bedding had been taken out and replaced with a set that had used to be in his sister Michelle’s room when she was a little younger than he was now. It was all frilly and pink. There were frilly pink curtains on the window, and frilly pink bed skirt, and frilly pink sheets, and a frilly pink bedspread, and the bed was loaded with frilly pink pillows. There was even a frilly pink tablecloth thing on top of the bureau. Her mother came in while she was still taking it all in, and asked what she thought of her new room. Stephanie gave her a big hug and said “Thank you, Mommy. It looks much prettier now.”

Her mother was kind of shaken by this. “You’re welcome, Honey. Now hop up on the bed. There’s something we need to take care of before you can get dressed. I’ve been reading up on men who dress like women professionally, and found something that they do that should be useful for you.” She opened Stephanie’s robe and then spread her knees. Stephanie was very embarrassed to be showing her boy parts to her mother like that, but it got worse. Mom took out a bottle and a bag of cotton balls and started cleaning down there. “I know you just took a bath, but that’s part of the problem. There are moisturizing oils in your bath soap that would get in the way, so I have to cleanse you with an astringent.” Stephanie didn’t know what that meant, but it felt very cold, and then kind of tingly. Then she was pushed onto her back and her mother brought out a roll of some kind of tape and did something to her stuff. “Okay, now your little penis is all tucked away and won’t be popping out making any unsightly bulges. This does mean that when you pee you have to sit down like a real girl, but you should be doing that anyway. When you do, make sure to wipe.” Stephanie nodded, still amazed by her mother’s disappearing act.

Her mother had her close her robe, and she then showed her the three laundry baskets full of her new clothes. While her mother watched, she put everything away. Because it was her first day, her mother picked out an outfit for her, but she said that in time she’d be able to pick out what she wanted to wear herself. She started with another new bra, a pair of panties, and a slip. Then she pulled a red dress on over her head and put on a little white sweater over it. She’d be wearing tights later, but her mother told her to start the day in knee socks, which were not as thin as the tights, but not as thick as Steven’s regular socks. Her shoes were a sort of shiny black version of her white shoes, but with slightly higher heels, and her mother gave her a little purse that matched. She said it contained a little bit of money, a house key, a small comb and hairbrush, and a roll of tape in case she had any “accidents.” Stephanie did a little twirl to see how her dress would move, and then skipped downstairs for a quick breakfast.

She had to sit at the kitchen table several times before she got it right. Dresses and skirts were very complicated things to operate. Steven was glad that he wasn’t one of those Scottish guys who wore plaid skirts all the time; he’d only have to be Stephanie for eleven more days, and then he’d have no more skirt issues. Breakfast was oatmeal, and by the time she had been seated properly to Mom’s satisfaction, it was cold. But she smiled and ate it anyway, thanked her for a tasty breakfast, and did her part to clear the table and clean up.

Mom gave Stephanie her new jacket, which was big and puffy and pink, with white fake fur trim, and they headed out. Michelle was anxious and ready to go, even before Stephanie had to get in and out of the car several times until she could do it right. Their first stop was the mall, where they made a beeline for “Ears to You,” an open air stall in the middle of the aisle. Stephanie’s mother talked to the girl on duty. “Hi. Stephanie here is in the Christmas pageant at Second Baptist, and Denise Cooper said that you could put stars in her ears.”

The girl looked on a clipboard. “Hmm… Second Baptist, yeah we have that style in stock. But it says here the stars were supposed to be for six boys. I’m not sure I can give you that discount.”

“Stephanie is a boy. Don’t make her have to show you. She’s just being punished for something, so we thought we’d make her prepare for her part in the pageant full time.”

Stephanie just wanted her mother to stop talking so they could get this over with. It was so humiliating that she wasn’t even thinking about the pain or permanence of getting her ears pierced. The girl just chuckled and opened a little gate. “Ok, then you cute little she-male, have a seat here on this stool.” Stephanie made sure to be careful to sweep the back of her dress before sitting down, and to keep her knees tightly together. The girl pulled things from a few different cabinets and came over. The whole process was very fast, and it really didn’t hurt much at all, since she started by numbing her earlobes. Stephanie looked in the mirror and the little sparkly silver stars in her ears really helped sell her female image. The girl pointed out that they sold some matching jewelry and she’d extend the discount to cover the whole purchase, so Stephanie left wearing a new bracelet and a necklace that both had little stars on them, too. She also got a free bottle of cleaning fluid to care for her new holes until they healed. Maybe it would look cool to keep an earring when she went back to being a boy, but it might be easier to just let the holes close up.

They then walked down the mall to the House of Beauty. Michelle showed her sister where to hang up her coat, while their mother gave their names to the receptionist. Stephanie sat in the waiting area, and didn’t make any mistakes getting into her chair. She idly flipped through a fashion magazine while they waited. Michelle was looking at the sign behind the counter and noticed something. “Hey mom, did you know they do waxing here? I think I was twelve the first time I shaved my legs, but I think Little Sis here deserves an earlier start.” Steven had never really noticed if he had hair on his legs, so he wasn’t sure why Michelle would want to shave them. And what was waxing, something women do to make their legs shiny? Mom told the lady to add that to Stephanie’s treatment, so it wouldn’t take long to find out.

They decided to do the wax thing first, so they brought Stephanie and her mother into a back room. Stephanie had to take off her shoes and socks and sit in a funny chair, and it was weird because they did like the opposite of all her training in how to sit, and they made her pull up her dress and sit with her knees apart. And then while Mom held her hand, they did the waxing, which wasn’t at all like you’d guess by the name. They should call it something more like “Painfully ripping a thousand band-aids off of your legs.” Her legs were all pink afterwards, and they had to put lotion on them. But they were very smooth, she had to admit. The wax lady also decided to tear out half of Stephanie’s eyebrows, for some reason.

They left her shoes and socks off and brought her back into the big room and sat her in a chair just like at the barber’s. The lady put a big pink plastic smock over her and leaned the chair back so her head was in a sink. Then she started washing her hair, which felt really weird, but really good. The barber had never done that to Steven; maybe being a girl had its perks. After the wash, she sat up again and the lady put some really smelly stuff in Stephanie’s hair and left it there for a while, then it was back down into the sink for a rinse, and then she stuck a big loud hairdryer thing over her head.

While her hair was drying, this one girl came over and started playing with Stephanie’s feet, and doing something that tickled her toes. She held up a little bottle and Mom approved it, but Stephanie’s head was stuck at the wrong angle to see what was going on. When the girl was done playing with her feet, she moved around and started washing Stephanie’s left hand, scrubbing with a brush and poking her fingers with a pointy stick, which hurt a little. She must have flinched, because the girl told her to keep her hand still. She then went around to the other hand and did the same thing.

When the hairdryer came off, Stephanie saw in the mirror that her hair was now a new lighter color, almost a blonde. It seemed to have more bounce to it, too. But the hairdresser wasn’t done. She pulled out a pair of scissors and started cutting, every so often bringing a spray bottle or a comb also into play. It was strange; Steven had always thought of girls as having longer hair than boys, but here this lady was making Stephanie look more like a girl by making her hair shorter. When she finished, she took off the smock and spun the chair around to give her a better look in the mirror. The hairstyle, which she called a “layered bob,” looked really cute and pretty much erased any traces of Steven that were left. She could only see a pretty girl in the mirror.

But then the hand girl came back and led her to another station. Stephanie got her first look at her feet and saw that her toenails had been trimmed and were painted with a very shiny silvery-white polish. She had to rest her hand on a table while very smelly stuff was put onto her nails that made them magically longer. Michelle came over to keep her company, and showed that she’d gotten new nails, too. Stephanie was glad that the girl wasn’t making her as long as her sister had gotten. Michelle now had these glamorous fire-engine red talons that were about an inch longer than her fingers.

Michelle told her little sister that her hair looked nice, and then pulled out a paper bag. There wouldn’t be time to stop anywhere for lunch and still get Stephanie to church on time for pageant rehearsal, so their mother had run down to the food court and brought them something to eat. But since Stephanie’s hands were being worked on, Michelle would have to feed her chicken Caesar salad to her. It was very awkward, but they got it done. Michelle only had to wipe Stephanie’s mouth with her napkin twice. The dressing was pretty salty, but her sister also had a Diet Sprite for her, and the straw made it easy.

After eating, Michelle thought Stephanie could use some lip gloss again, so she had her purse her lips again, and she squeezed stuff out of a little tube onto her lips. This gloss was different than the last one she’d tried. It tasted like strawberries. Michelle said that she’d bought this gloss especially for her, and put the tube in her purse. Stephanie thanked her and smiled, looking at her shiny lips in the mirror across the room.

When the shiny paint on her new fingernails that matched her toenails was dry, it was time to go. Her mother took her into the ladies’ room in the salon to put on her tights and shoes. Mom paid the cashier, but Stephanie had to take some money to each of the women that had worked on her and give them a tip, and thank them for their work, even the painful wax lady. Stephanie thanked her mother for making her look pretty like a real girl, but she asked what they would do about her nice new hair style when it came time to become Steven again. Mom told her not to worry, and they’d work something out. In the worst case, she could always get out the clippers and give Steven a buzz-cut like she used to do every summer.

Michelle dropped Stephanie and her mother off at the church. They were a little late. Even though her mother told everyone about Stephanie as soon as they entered, rehearsal didn’t go too bad. There were even a couple of little boys there who were also playing at being girls beyond just the pageant. The other boys who were acting as angels in the play seemed to be a lot more uncomfortable wearing dresses. They just didn’t get that it was all pretend.

When they were putting angel dresses on, little Connor Bartlett noticed that Stephanie had two sets of straps, so she was wearing a bra as well as a slip. They all started pointing and laughing. It was weird — where did they think Stephanie’s little boobs came from? Or maybe they didn’t notice them; were they too small? She was about to break down, but then Mrs. Patterson was really cool and made the other boy/girls straighten up, and sent her to the ladies’ room to clean her face so she could get made up.

While she was washing her face, she wondered if it was a sin for a boy to use the ladies’ room in a church, but a look in the mirror revealed that there were no boys in the room, just a cute girl. The makeup that Mrs. Cooper put on her made her look like someone off of a magazine cover. She had long, thick eyelashes that really made her eyes look big, and silvery eyelids, and rosy cheeks, and glistening pink lips. She finished off by dusting Stephanie’s entire face with a sparkly powder, and then put a wig on her head that was so silver it was almost white. She looked like a magical space girl from one of those Japanese cartoons. The other kids were awestruck when they saw her, and probably sorry they laughed.

The rehearsal itself was fine. Stephanie was just part of the angelic host, so she didn’t have any lines to memorize. The singing was kind of fun. Stephanie didn’t feel embarrassed by her soprano voice like Steven usually was, so she wasn’t afraid to put some actual volume into her voice, and smiled when she sang, which made the Halleluiah’s sound much happier like they were supposed to. After rehearsal Mrs. Cooper cleaned the makeup off of Stephanie’s face with a special kind of washcloth, and she was disappointed to see a regular girl instead of a supermodel in the mirror afterward. Mrs. Cooper noticed the dejected look on her face and gave her a little conspiratorial wink before getting out the stuff and making her eyelashes just a little darker. It really helped. Stephanie also got her lip gloss from her purse, and she showed her how to apply it. Satisfied with her image, she gave Mrs. Cooper a hug of appreciation and went off to find her mother.

When they got home, Dad said that Stephanie was prettier than he could have imagined, and decided that he needed to take his three lovely ladies out to dinner. They went to Steven’s favorite Italian restaurant, and Stephanie had to suppress a giggle when the waiter called her “Miss.” She didn’t think it would be a good idea to order Steven’s favorite dish with the spicy sausages and the roasted peppers, because it always gave him gas. It probably wouldn’t be ladylike to get into a burping contest with dad. She copied her sister and got the chicken Parmigiana over penne. Halfway through the meal, she had a problem. She leaned over and whispered to Michelle that she had to go to the bathroom. They got up and went to the ladies’ room together. Their father commented under his breath, “A girl for a day, and already going in packs. Go figure. It must be something about the plumbing in there that requires a crew.” His wife elbowed him for being crude.

Mom gave Stephanie a new long flannel nightgown to sleep in. It was red with a pattern of little white flowers, with white lace trim. Her mother said she didn’t need to sleep in a bra again like the night before, but that most girls like to keep their panties on under their nighties. Lying in between girl sheets in girl sleepwear and looking around the girl room, Steven wept a little, thinking that maybe ten more days of this wouldn’t be so easy after all, and wondering if he was going to have girl dreams or boy dreams.

Sunday morning brought another bath. Steven was happy to have the tape off; it was even worth the embarrassment of having his mother come in to wash his hair. After the bath he wanted to celebrate his freedom by peeing standing up, but he couldn’t. Either it was fear that Mom would catch him somehow, or it was something about how wrong it seemed to hold it in a hand with pretty girly fingernails. At any rate he had to sit to be relaxed enough for anything to come out. He put on his girly robe, and Stephanie went to tell her mother she was ready to learn how to dry her hair, but she made her put on fresh tape and a clean pair of panties first.

Stephanie had to get dressed up for church, and she wondered if she’d get in trouble with God for wearing a dress instead of pants. But if it was okay to be a girl angel, it must not be a sin to be a girl girl. It wasn’t a dress, anyway. It was a separate skirt and blouse. Stephanie wasn’t sure why when a girl wears a shirt, it’s a blouse, but felt that her mother seemed to busy to ask. The tights were thicker, more like socks than pantyhose, but still nothing Batman would wear even if they were his gray color; they had like stripes running down them. Stephanie had to wear a little half-slip under her skirt, but when she put on her white top, Mom said that her bra was a little too visible, so she had to take her blouse off and wear a camisole underneath it, which is what you call the other half of the slip. Her mother gave her the choice of wearing a light blue button-up sweater over her outfit, but Stephanie thought her blouse looked too pretty to cover up.

Michelle helped her put on the necklace and bracelet that matched her earrings, and gave her a little spritz of her cologne. Without prompting, Stephanie got out her lipgloss and put it on, impressing her sister with her technique.

The Sunday School class was really easy. The pageant cast just had to run through their parts, and all Stephanie had to do was remember when to enter and where to stand. Little Bobby Perrone was still dressing up like a girl, too, but it seemed like Robin (that was “her” feminine name) really liked it. Stephanie felt protective of her eight-year-old counterpart, and stuck by her to keep the other kids from teasing.

During the coffee hour after the service while Stephanie was just standing around waiting for her family to be ready, she was surprised to see Brian Somers walk over to her and bring her a cup of punch. He was older than her and always dressed really cool. He’d barely said two words to Steven, ever. She thanked Brian for the punch.

He said she looked pretty and Stephanie wasn’t sure what to do, so she just smiled and sipped her punch. But then Brian started asking about Steven’s punishment, so it became clear that he was only talking to her out of curiosity. He seemed sympathetic about her plight, especially when she explained that a Nintendo Wii was the prize for being a girl until school restarted. Brian even made a funny comment that Steven had traded his wee-wee for a Wii that made Stephanie laugh out loud.

But then Brian got weird and told her she was pretty when she laughed, maybe even the prettiest girl there. She gave him a playful slap on the arm and corrected him that there were many prettier girls there who actually were girls, but he said he’d rather be talking to Stephanie than the other girls. She blushed and had to look away.

He immediately got her attention back when he said he had a way she could play Nintendo before her sentence was up. Brian had a Wii at home, and rubbed salt in her wounds by saying he’d be getting more games for Christmas. Stephanie wasn’t sure how that would help her problem, but then he got to his point. His parents were throwing a New Year’s Eve party, and Brian was allowed to invite a friend over to hang out with him playing games and watching TV in his basement. And the friend he wanted to invite was Stephanie.

She wanted to know why he wasn’t picking one of his friends from the youth group, but he said the rest of them were all older than him, and as the baby of the group they picked on him. He’d rather invite someone younger than him, and he said that she was actually closer to his age. Steven thought it would be fun hanging out with him and really wanted to go, but he had to make sure that Brian knew that it would have to be Stephanie going to the party.

And that’s where it got really weird. Brian wanted Stephanie to go to his party, not Steven. He saw it as kind of a date, but since she wasn’t a real girl it wouldn’t be a real date, and he could sort of use her as practice for the real thing.

Steven still wanted to go, but Stephanie wasn’t sure she wanted a date. She ran her hand through her hair to kill time, but the chance to play Wii was just too tempting an offer. Since she’d have to be Stephanie on New Year’s anyway, she might as well be doing something fun. Who knows what girly thing Mom would try to make her do if she was home? She accepted his offer, but said she’d have to get permission.

Brian didn’t waste any time, and grabbed Stephanie’s hand and pulled her over to where her mother was talking to her friends. She wanted to wait for a lull in their conversation, but Brian was more insistent. He excused himself and then asked her if Stephanie could come to his house for New Year’s Eve, and her mother made him tell her the whole story, and she nodded a few times. Stephanie noticed her looking down at something with a puzzled expression, and then realized that Brian was still holding her hand. She wasn’t exactly sure what a real girl would do in that situation, so she just slackened her grip a little.

Stephanie’s mother said it was okay, but she had to talk to Brian’s mother first. So Brian pulled her over to his mother, and her mom followed, and he said that Stephanie was the guest he wanted to have over for New Year’s. Brian’s mother initially said no way could he be alone with a girl at a party that could go overnight, and Stephanie blushed when her mom had to explain the whole punishment story again. She laughed, and said she didn’t believe it, but Mom said it would all be made clear on Christmas Eve when she saw the pageant; all the boys were girls and all the girls were boys — it’s just that Stephanie was the only one doing it full time. She wanted to correct her mother and point out Robin, but she couldn’t see her in the room. Brian’s mother agreed, and exchanged phone numbers with her mom. And then Brian got funny again, and kissed the hand he had been holding, and said “It’s a date, then. See you later, Beautiful.” She was too dumbfounded that she didn’t even hear what her mother was trying to say to her.

Of course when they rounded up Dad and Michelle, Mom immediately had to tell them that Stephanie had made a date, and was talking about how nice “her boyfriend” was. Michelle then wanted Stephanie to tell her everything about him: what his name was, what kind of date they were going on, and especially whether Stephanie thought he was cute. She had to think carefully about what a real girl would do in that situation, and decided that she’d probably talk to her sister about a guy. She told Michelle to wait until they got home, since it would be embarrassing in front of Mom and Dad.

So when they got home, Michelle pulled Stephanie into her room and wanted her to dish the dirt all about her date. Stephanie had to admit that Brian actually was kind of cute. When she said it was a New Year’s Eve party, Michelle asked if they were going to stay up until midnight, and Stephanie said she didn’t know but probably. Her big sister then made her heart stop. She told her that Brian would probably be expecting her to kiss him at the stroke of midnight; it’s the custom for couples at New Year’s, something about good luck. Stephanie was terrified and wished her sister hadn’t told her. The next week would be a living hell of dread and anticipation!

Stephanie’s Deal by Jennifer Brock So far, Steven has agreed to become Stephanie for a week and a half as a punishment, and agreed to go on a date with a boy. In this installment, Stephanie learns what family means to her, and accepts a couple more social invitations.

Episode 3

Steven’s mother was grinning broadly. “You’ve done such a great job becoming a girl for us that we’ve decided to reward you.”

His sister Michelle was there, too. “Yeah, Little Sis, you totally deserve this.”

He looked around and saw that he was wearing one of those paper hospital dresses that tie up in the back so your butt hangs out, but his butt was safe because he was tied down in a wheelchair. He saw the pink toenails on his bare feet shining cutely. “Where am I? What’s happening?”

Michelle was the one to answer. “We all love you, Stephanie. You’re much better than that icky boy was. So we’re going to keep you - isn’t that great? You’ll be able to kiss all the boys you want, now.”

Mom chimed in. “You were so brave when we had them rip all the hairs from your legs, and you didn’t mind when we poured dangerous chemicals in your hair, and you smiled when we had sharp pieces of metal stuck in your ears, so this shouldn’t be a problem for you at all, Stephanie dear.”

Steven was so confused. He saw his father walking toward him. “Dad, help me! They’re going to do something to me!”

His father laughed. “Now Stephanie, you know that Steven was a naughty boy. Remember when Mr. Mittens was a naughty boy and peed on the couch? We took him to Dr. Kellerman, and had him cut off his boy parts. Well look who’s here!” Dr. Kellerman was standing next to Dad, holding a huge pair of scissors. “He doesn’t think people are all that different from cats, so he’s going to do us all a favor and cut off your naughty boy parts, so all that will be left will be the sweet girl that everyone loves. Won’t that be great?”

“Noooooo!”

Steven woke up with a cold sweat soaked into his nightgown. It was the day before Christmas, and Stephanie had a lot to do that day. There were still nine days left in the agreement. Steven wasn’t sure if he was going to be able to make it. But since Stephanie had to be a girl angel in the Christmas pageant anyway, it wouldn’t make any sense to try to give up today. And if he gave up, he’d lose his Nintendo Wii, and that was the prize that made this whole thing worthwhile.

Since she had awakened on her own, her mother wasn’t there waiting to guide her through her morning routine. Stephanie took it upon herself to change into her fluffy pink rode and slippers and went to the bathroom to take her bath. She was soaking in the warm floral-scented water when the door flew open and Michelle barged in.

“Oh. Hi, Sis. I didn’t know you were in here, but I can’t wait anyway.” She pulled up her nightgown and sat on the toilet. “It’s a good thing we’re both girls.” Stephanie tried to make sure her important parts were covered by bubbles, and tried not to peek. She did notice that even though Mom had told her most girls slept in panties under their nighties, Michelle hadn’t lowered any. The sound of water pouring into water took way too long, but finally her sister was finished, and she ripped off a piece of paper and wiped herself. Stephanie still didn’t look.

Michelle however had no qualms about peeking. She went over to the tub before she left and looked at Stephanie in the bath. “That’s kind of cute how you tried to cover yourself with the bubbles, like an innocent maiden. Your girlish instincts must really coming along, too — you even covered your little boobies.” Stephanie hadn’t realized that, and hoped her sister was wrong.

When Michelle was at the door, Stephanie made the mistake of pointing out that she hadn’t washed her hands. She walked back over and stuck her hands in the tub and swished them around. “Satisfied now?”

It was really gross thinking that her sister’s pee-hands had been in her bathwater, so she got out of the tub as soon as she’d left. She got back into her robe and did her best to figure out how to dry her hair. Checking in the mirror showed that her efforts came close to what her mother had done the day before. She tried not to think about her nightmare as she put a fresh piece of tape on her boy parts.

It was her first time picking out an outfit by herself, and she wanted to get it right. Fortunately, the pageant dress code got her most of the way there. She put on a plain white bra and panties, the tights she needed for the show, and the slip that would go under her angel robe. All she needed to do was pick out a dress, which was all one piece, so she didn’t have to worry about matching colors or anything.

She opened her closet and she saw that she actually owned several dresses. Mom had really gone overboard buying her wardrobe. It was weird. There were a bunch of separate skirts and tops hanging up as well, and it seemed like way too many clothes than would be needed for only nine more days of girlhood. She picked out a long-sleeved red dress with little white flowers on it and white lacy edging. She pulled it on over her head like a shirt and then fastened the four little buttons at the top. She slipped on her black shoes and looked in the mirror.

Her hair had gotten messed up by the dress, so she had to brush it back into place. She saw her jewelry sitting on the bureau and put on the necklace that matched her earrings. She couldn’t get the bracelet fastened, so she left it off. A little lip gloss and she couldn’t see anything in her reflection that said “boy.”

Mom was in the kitchen still in her robe cooking. She said Stephanie looked very pretty, and complimented her for getting ready all by herself. She told her that her father and sister were out in the driveway clearing the snow that had fallen in the night. Since Stephanie wasn’t really dressed for shoveling, she could help out making breakfast.

Her mother tied an apron around her to keep her pretty dress neat. She’d just finished mixing the batter and showed Stephanie how to pour out a pancake onto the griddle, and they watched as at cooked. She showed her how little bubbles would tell her when the pancake needed to be flipped and that the edge would lift just a little when it was done. She then had Stephanie make one while she told her what to do, and then another one where her mother just watched while she went through the whole process.

Stephanie was then left alone to finish making them all by herself while Mom went to grab a quick shower. On her way out she told her that when the oven timer went off, it would mean that the sausages under the broiler would need to be turned over, and that she should make sure to use an oven mitt.

Stephanie was a little nervous being abandoned in the kitchen, but worked her way through the batter. She was in the middle of a pancake when the timer chimed, and she had to find the button to turn it off. When her pancake was done, then she found an oven mitt to open the oven and pull out the broiler pan. Flipping the little sausage patties was kind of fun; they were like miniature hamburgers so she was kind of cooking like dad at a barbecue and not really being that girly at all. She slid the broiler pan back in and returned to pancaking.

Mom came back down just in time to turn the stove off and tell Stephanie how to set the table, and almost on cue Dad and Michelle stomped into the mud room and took their boots off. They all sat down for a hearty breakfast, and her father and sister didn’t believe it when her mother told them that she’d cooked all the pancakes.

Dad was going to the mall to do some last-minute Christmas shopping, and Stephanie asked to tag along. He said she could come with him as long as she had a watch with her, so she’d be able to meet up with him at a designated time; he didn’t want to be kept waiting around. Michelle had an old watch she could borrow that looked like a pretty gold bracelet with a cheap digital watch face stuck on it.

Stephanie went to the old lunchbox in the attic space behind her closet where Steven kept his secret money. She put the $63.78 that was there into her purse, grabbed her coat, and went to her father’s car.

On the drive over to the mall, the conversation was a little uncomfortable. Dad said, “I can’t believe it’s only been a couple days; you seem so different. I’m really impressed by how responsible you’ve become. I mean, you cooked breakfast this morning, but last week if we’d left you alone with a hot stove you’d have burned the house down.” Stephanie just mumbled a thanks and nodded.

Her father continued, “When your mother and sister suggested this girl thing, I just figured you’d give up in no time. But now that I’ve seen you in action, I think you might be able to last out the week. And I think that if you actually can pull it off, you’ll have convinced me that you actually realize that actions have consequences.”

“I’ll try not to let you down, Daddy.” Steven was starting to realize that he really shouldn’t be thinking about trying to give up being Stephanie before the contract was up. He didn’t want to disappoint his folks any more than he already had.

“It’s very bizarre if what it takes to make my son a man is to put him in dresses, but I won’t argue with what works.” He shook his head confoundedly, and they drove the rest of the way in silence.

The mall itself was very crowded, and Stephanie used her sister’s advice of wearing her purse on her shoulder under her coat to keep from being pickpocketed. She walked around for a while looking for a few last presents, and really felt like a natural girl going shopping for her family. She was standing in line to use the ladies’ room and had a sudden realization that she hadn’t really been worrying too much about being recognized, even though many people who knew Steven were out shopping. She had a moment of panic, but it went away when one of the other women in line asked her for the time.

She got her shopping done fairly quickly, and found some really good deals. She even had money left over that she could make an impulse purchase with. Stephanie made it to the rendezvous with her father with time to spare. It was important to show him that she could honor an agreement, even a little one. She killed time watching people, paying attention to what the other girls were wearing. A screeching noise caught her attention and she saw a really obnoxious little brat throwing a tantrum in the line of kids waiting to sit on Santa’s lap. She wondered if that was how Steven looked to his parents.

Dad was kind of pissed off at the crowds, but he seemed to brighten noticeably when he saw Stephanie waiting. She smiled and then caught up with him, shifting her shopping bags so that he couldn’t see where she’d been. He put his arm around her in a way he never would have done with his son and escorted her out to the car. As a surprise for Mom, they picked up lunch, a bucket of chicken, on their way home.

After helping clean up after lunch, Stephanie disappeared into her room to wrap her new purchases. Shortly after she put her presents under the tree and fiddled with some of the gift tags on old presents that still said “From Steven,” it was time to go to church.

The rest of the boys who were playing angels in the pageant also came dressed as girls. It was kind of cool; they all even had earrings and nail polish. She wasn’t sure, but it looked like she might not even be the only one wearing a bra. They all took off their dresses and put on their angel robes, but it seemed like she was the only one who had to change her shoes. Everyone else had worn their white shoes, even though Mom had said white shoes were unfashionable in the winter.

Mrs. Cooper did Stephanie’s makeup first, just like she had at rehearsal, but then she had to sit still while her mother and the other ladies worked to make all the other angel faces match hers. It was like she was a model; it was really fun! They got their wings and silver wigs and then they were all beautiful angels. The pageant itself went really well; everybody was in the right places when they were supposed to, and almost everyone remembered their lines.

The songs were very pretty. The congregation even clapped a couple of times, which wasn’t something that happens very often in a church. At the end of the service, they got to hold actual real lit candles while they walked out the aisle in pairs, but Mrs. Patterson was waiting right outside the door with a bucket of water that they had to put their candles in.

Stephanie went with the other angels back to the Sunday School classroom to change out of their costumes. Mrs. Cooper was there with special washcloths to take the makeup off. Little Bobby Perrone who was still playing at being a girl named Robin wanted to keep her pretty makeup, so her mom said she didn’t have to. Justin Turner, who’d starred in the pageant as the Virgin Mary with his little sister Rachel as baby Jesus, was also staying dressed as a girl for some reason. Tina and Robin were getting along really well; it was kind of weird. But Stephanie was kind of worried that they didn’t understand

Stephanie’s mother had a new dress hanging up for her to change into. It was fancier than the one she’d worn all day, with a black velvet top and a very long red skirt.
It was disappointing watching all the other girls turning back into boys while she had to get prettier. Some of them even got to change back into boy underwear, and got a little embarrassed to be changing in the same room as Stephanie, Robin, and Tina.

Stephanie pulled back her hair with a red padded headband that matched her skirt, freshened her lip gloss, and checked the mirror to make sure she looked okay. Mrs. Patterson came around to collect the costumes and told Stephanie she looked really nice. She thanked her and said that the pageant had been very fun, and gave her a little hug.

Michelle came in to tell Stephanie that their father was warming up the car. Tina and her family had left, so Stephanie asked for her sister to wait a minute. She went over to Robin and kneeled down to tell her a secret.

“I was the oldest one of the angels and you were the youngest. Since we’re both girls, I say that makes me the Queen of the Angels and you the Angel Princess.” She did a silly fashion pose, and Robin copied it. “When I was out shopping today, I saw something that made me think of you, so I’d like to give you a present, if that’s ok?” She pulled a little wrapped package out of her purse, and looked to Robin’s mother. She gave an approving nod.

Robin unwrapped the little package and saw that it was a little enameled charm with a clip on it. It was a tiny image of Robin, Batman’s sidekick. She looked confused.

Stephanie showed her the clip. “It attaches to a zipper pull. I thought that when your vacation is over and you have to go back to being Bobby all the time, you might want to have a reminder of your secret identity. No one would pick on you for being girly, because they’d think it was just Robin the Boy Wonder clipped onto Bobby’s coat. But you’d know that it really stands for Robin the Angel Princess, and you can remember wearing your pretty dress.”

Robin thanked Stephanie and gave her a big hug, and her mom said that it was a very thoughtful gift. Robin apologized that she hadn’t gotten Stephanie anything, but she said her beautiful smile was present enough. Then Robin whispered a question to her mother and she whispered back a yes.

Robin stood up straight and then made a little curtsy. “Because I have to put my dresses away, my Mommy and I are having a special celebration on Wednesday. It’s going to be a Pretty Dress Tea Party with real tea and real tea party sandwiches and real cake, just for pretty girls in pretty dresses. It’s going to be me and Mommy, and Tina, and Tina’s mommy and little sister. Would you like to come to my party, too?”

Stephanie took a little too long to answer, and Michelle butted in. “I’m sure Stephanie would love to come! We wouldn’t dream of breaking a little girl’s heart.” Stephanie hoped it wouldn’t be too bad. Michelle added, “She’s going to need a ride; can her big sister tag along?”

Robin looked at her mother, who nodded. “Sure, as long as you wear a Pretty Dress.” It was agreed, and Michelle got the details about where and when and they went off to the car.

Stephanie was mad at her sister for making her agree to go to a little girl’s party, but Michelle reminded her that the deal she’d agreed to said that she wasn’t allowed to refuse to do anything a real girl would do, and a real girl wouldn’t turn down an opportunity to get dressed up and have a fancy tea. She tried not to sulk too openly on the way to their grandmother’s.

The trip took almost an hour, so Stephanie was pretty hungry by the time they got there. Michelle helped her fix her hair and told her to freshen her lip gloss. Dad had to carry the laundry basket full of presents for the relatives, so Mom handed the two sisters each a pie to carry, and she brought a third one with her.

Grandma met them at the door and had a big hug for her daughter. “Like I always say, it wouldn’t be Christmas without Carol! Oh, and is that my newest granddaughter? Let me get a good look at you! You’re as pretty as your mother used to be. Some day you’ll break a lot of hearts.” She gave Stephanie a little kiss on the cheek and ushered them all in.

Then it was like Stephanie had to be presented to the rest of her family. Aunt Jeannie, her mother’s sister gave her a big hug and made her spin around to show the full look. Uncle Frank, her husband, just gave a silent nod.

Dan, her seventeen-year-old cousin, gave a wolf whistle. “When Aunt Carol told us you were coming dressed up as a girl, we did not expect that. You’re kind of hot for twelve.” He probably would have gone on, but his mother stopped him.

Twenty-two-year-old Matt agreed with his brother. “You really look natural, Steph. If I didn’t know, I’d never have guessed.”

Matt’s fiancée Grace was with him. She was the most beautiful actual person Steven had ever seen. She had huge blue eyes and long wavy blonde hair, and a figure like a bikini model. She slapped Matt teasingly. “You’re all playing a trick on me, aren’t you? I’ve never met your cousin Stephanie, so you got together and decided to pretend that she was really some boy cousin. Now fess up!” Stephanie was proud that she was that convincing, but inside Steven was sad that she’d forgotten meeting him at Uncle Frank’s birthday party last year.

Matt showed Grace where Grandma had photos of all her grandchildren arranged on the wall behind her couch, and pointed to the one with Michelle and Steven and their parents, to prove they weren’t playing a joke on her. Grace smiled the prettiest smile and apologized to everyone, then told Stephanie she looked amazing.

Aunt Jeannie pulled Stephanie and Michelle aside and had them pose on the landing on the front stairs so she could take their picture. They had to get into a very specific arrangement for her, with Stephanie in front of and slightly to the left of her sister, with Michelle’s hand on her shoulder. Stephanie hoped she wouldn’t be showing the picture to too many people.

Then Grandma ushered everyone into her big dining room to sit down for Christmas dinner. It was a huge feast of ham and mashed potatoes and sweet potatoes with marshmallows and lima beans with bacon and candied carrots and candied pickled beets and three colors of Jell-o and two shapes of dinner rolls. Stephanie watched how daintily Grace was eating, and tried to copy her. Steven would have wolfed it all down, but even though she was starving she tried to be good.

After eating, it was suggested that they wait to have dessert and instead go back into the parlor to exchange presents first. Stephanie helped her mother and grandmother clear the table. Aunt Jeannie disappeared into the back bedroom, Michelle was lazy and went off with the boys, but Grace pitched in with the dishes, too. Grandma put Stephanie in charge of dividing the leftovers into little plastic containers so that everyone could take some home.

Mom got everyone their choice of coffee or tea or hot chocolate in one of Grandma’s billion Christmas mugs, and they all found seats in the parlor to pass out gifts. Aunt Jeannie went first, handing her special surprise to her sister.

It looked like a framed variation on one of her scrapbook pages. She must have brought her printer, because the photo she’d just taken was on the right cut into an oval shape. On the left was a picture of little Jean and little Carol when they were almost the same age as Michelle and Stephanie, taken on the same spot in the same poses many years earlier. Across the top in big purple letters it said “Sisters,” and in the middle was a pretty poem all about what it means to be a sister.

Mom loved it and cried a little, and showed it off to her daughters. Aunt Jeannie said she needed to take advantage of the opportunity, because when else would there be another pair of sisters in the family? Jeannie gave her little sister a big hug, and Stephanie realized that her mother’s sister was just about as much older than her as Michelle was older than Stephanie. It was something she had in common with her mom. Steven had never made the connection before.

Grandma got all the kids gift cards to amazon.com, which showed that she was pretty cool for an old lady. She said that she was glad that she didn’t have to change her gift when Steven became Stephanie. Also, it kept them from arguing over who got the better present. She even said that she’d mailed the same gift cards to Dan and Matt’s older brother Jack, who lived in California with his wife Paula and their little boy Jordan.

Aunt Jeannie’s gifts for her nieces were also her handiwork. Besides scrapbooking, she liked to do beadwork, so both Michelle and Stephanie received jewelry sets, with a necklace, a bracelet and a pair of earrings made from matching beads. Michelle’s was purple and Stephanie’s was pink. She thanked her aunt for making such pretty things for her.

Michelle promised her sister that she’d show her a trick the next day for how she could change her earrings even though her piercings hadn’t healed completely. Stephanie hadn’t even realized that it would be a problem, so she thanked her.

While they were eating their pie, Grace was talking to Matt. She said, “You know, I just had a crazy idea. Do you think maybe Stephanie could solve our wedding problem?”

Matt shook his head. “You’re right; that is a crazy idea. I don’t think she’d go for it.”

Stephanie was curious. “What’s this problem?”

Grace started to explain, but Matt talked over her. “You know how in TV shows, married guys all hate their mother-in-laws? Well, there’s a reason for that. Mine isn’t even an in-law yet, and she’s already causing trouble.”

“What did she do?”

This time Grace answered. “You know how we’re getting married on June 28, right? Well, mother and I were working on the seating chart for the reception, to make sure we had all the invitations sorted out. And that was when she realized that my little brother Christopher was going to be sitting down at the table with her and my father, but both of Matt’s brothers were going to be ushers, so they’d be up at the head table. She decided that Matt needed to ask Christopher to be an usher, too. But he’s only fourteen, so he’s more of a junior usher.”

“I’m still not sure how this is something I can help you with.”

Grace’s voice was getting more excited. “The thing is, adding another usher would just throw off the balanced look of the ceremony. So what I need to do is add another bridesmaid. But ideally, to balance a junior usher I’d need a junior bridesmaid. And I just don’t have any friends or family members who are young teenage girls that I could ask. But, if Matt’s junior usher is coming from my family, maybe my junior bridesmaid could come from his. So, what do you think? Do you want to be my junior bridesmaid?”

Matt chimed in. “Don’t say ‘no’ right away. We wouldn’t have to tell anyone your secret. As far as anyone else knows, you’d be my female cousin Stephanie. You should be out of school before the wedding, so it wouldn’t be a problem if you needed pretty hair or fingernails or something. You’d really be helping me out here. I can even pay you like a hundred bucks for doing me this favor.”

Stephanie thought about it. It would be really cool to be a hero to Grace, and some money might be cool. But Stephanie was supposed to go away after New Year’s. Did Steven really want to have to bring her back for a day in the summer? It would only be a day; that might not be too bad. Then Stephanie remembered the contract. She wasn’t allowed to refuse to do anything a real girl would do. There was only one possible answer.

“Thank you, Grace. I would love to be in your wedding! Every girl dreams of having the chance to be a part of someone’s magic moment. And no, Matt, you don’t need to pay me. You’re family, and helping family is its own reward.”

Grace gave her a hug and said that even if she wouldn’t accept their money, they’d still cover all her expenses and she wouldn’t have to pay for her dress or shoes or anything.

On the ride home, Mom said that it was a very thoughtful thing Stephanie was doing for her cousin. She was impressed. She did say that it meant she couldn’t go with the buzz-cut plan, since it wouldn’t be long enough in time for the wedding. Instead, Steven would have to slick his hair back or something when he returned to school. It also meant that it would probably be best if Steven kept his earrings even when he went to school; maybe they could find him a pair that were less feminine.

Stephanie hadn’t realized that her decision had so many implications. It gave her a lot to think about as she drifted off to sleep in the car.

Stephanie’s Deal by Jennifer Brock By foolishly deciding to peek at his Christmas presents, Steven earned the punishment of living as a girl. Stephanie’s been doing a fairly decent job emulating a well-mannered young lady, while still making some unusual choices. She’ll be an older boy’s date to a New Year’s Eve party, and most recently she agreed to serve as a junior bridesmaid in her cousin’s wedding next June. It’s now Christmas, and Stephanie learns a little more about herself.

Episode 4

It was Steven’s fourth morning waking up in a nightgown, and he was almost used to it. Stephanie sat up, gathered her skirt and got out of bed the way she’d been taught. She didn’t remember anything after falling asleep in the car on the way home from her grandmother’s. Someone must have undressed her and put her to bed. The nightgown she was wearing was one she hadn’t seen before. It was sleeveless, which made it look kind of like a slip with really wide straps. It was a pale pink with “Merry Christmas” written all over it in red cursive letters.

The family Christmas tradition was for everyone to keep their pajamas on all day, so Stephanie put on her robe and slippers and crept down to the kitchen. The clock on the wall told her it was 6:30. She’d gotten up early like an excited little kid who couldn’t wait to see her presents. Everyone else was still in bed.

She figured she might as well do a nice thing and make breakfast for the family. She started by figuring out how to use the coffee maker. Steven had seen his mother make a pot hundreds of times, so she knew the steps involved but just wasn’t sure of the measurements. The pot had marks on it so you knew how many cups worth of water to put in, but she didn’t know how many cups Mom usually made. She figured the safest bet would be to fill it to the highest mark. Then the question was how much coffee to put in the filter. She tried to follow the instructions on the back of the can, but she didn’t know how many ounces were in the cups the marks on the pot referred to, so she went with her best guess.

There was a can or tube or whatever you call it package of dough for making cinnamon rolls in the fridge. The directions spelled out the steps specifically, and Stephanie thought it looked like something she could handle. She turned on the oven to preheat and got out a baking pan. She went to wash her hands, and the sleeves of her robe were getting in the way, so she took it off and hung it over a kitchen chair. She found the apron her mother had made her wear the day before and tied it on.

Making the rolls was pretty easy! The package even had little pictures showing what to do at each step. It was fun rolling up the little pieces of dough. She hoped they came out okay. Once they were in the oven, she set about finding something else to serve for breakfast. She settled on trying to make scrambled eggs, but she had no idea where to start.

She smacked herself in the forehead and looked in the big plaid cookbook that Mom always uses when she needs to look up the cooking time for a roast or something. Sure enough, it had a recipe for scrambled eggs. She didn’t want to do too many things at once, so she waited until the rolls came out of the oven before she poured her egg mixture into the frying pan.

Her big sister Michelle came into the kitchen and asked what smelled so yummy. Stephanie told her the rolls were still cooling but she could help herself to a cup of coffee. Michelle was really impressed by how domestic she had become. Stephanie set a plate of eggs in front of her sister and had started frosting the rolls when their sleepy parents shuffled in.

Mom was pleased. “Thanks for making breakfast, girls! This is a nice Christmas surprise.”

Michelle shook her head. “Don’t thank me. This is all her doing. I just got here. Her eggs are pretty good — you’ve got to try them!”

“You did this all yourself? That’s very sweet of you.” Steven had never shown any initiative in the kitchen before, so his mother was very confused.

Stephanie set a plate of cinnamon rolls on the table and ran her hands down to smooth her apron. “Well, I realized that even though I accepted my punishment, I never actually apologized. So I just thought I’d make some breakfast as a way to let you know I really am sorry.” She hung her head. “I’m not trying to get you to shorten my sentence or anything; I just wanted to let you know I regret my mistake, and didn’t want that getting in the way of any celebrating.” She wiped her nose and smiled honestly. “So, merry Christmas! And I hope you like my breakfast.”

Everybody liked her breakfast. The cinnamon rolls were particularly tasty, but even there were enough for everyone to have two of them Dad had seconds on eggs instead. The best part was when Mom said that Michelle had to clean up. Stephanie swapped back her apron for her robe and went with the folks into the living room while her sister dealt with the dishes.

She settled into a seat on the couch and watched her father turn on the lights on the tree. It was then that Stephanie noticed that there were five stockings hanging from the mantel instead of their usual four. It took her a while to figure out that the extra one hanging between Steven’s and Michelle’s was for her. It was purple with a silver angel patch sewn on it. When Michelle was finished and came into the living room, Mom took down the stockings and passed them out.

When she got to the end, she took Steven’s stocking off its hook. “Since he’s not here, let’s see what he got.” She flipped it over and a small black rock fell in her hand. “A lump of coal — I guess Santa put Steven on his ‘Naughty’ list.” She put the coal on the mantel and went back to her seat. “Why don’t you go first, Stephanie? Maybe Santa put you down for ‘Nice.’”

Stephanie didn’t really like Mom’s “joke,” if that’s what it was. She dumped out her new stocking and saw a pile of reasonable presents for a girl. There was the usual Christmas orange, a roll of wild cherry Life-Savers, a pretty bookmark made from a pressed flower laminated in plastic, a pair of silver barrettes with little flowers on them, a glittery tube of lipgloss, a bottle of mascara, and some perfume of her very own. She thanked “Santa,” and gave her perfume a little sniff. She thought it would make her smell really grown up.

When they went on to the actual presents, Stephanie got some more really girly things. The first thing she opened turned out to be a doll. She was almost twelve, which she was pretty sure was too old for dolls, so it confused her. But Mom explained that this porcelain doll wasn’t for playing with; she was just supposed to sit on your bureau and look pretty. Sometimes girls had some really stupid stuff. Stephanie took the doll out of the box and looked at her. She had blonde curls in her hair almost the same color as Stephanie’s, and she wore a blue dress with a big poofy skirt.

Mom said Stephanie needed to give her doll a name, which seemed even more stupid. But she went ahead and did it anyway. “Well, since I got her on Christmas, I’ll call her ‘Chrissy’ to mark the occasion.” Mom didn’t quite seem satisfied, so Stephanie addressed the doll, “Does that sound like a good name to you, Chrissy?” She held the doll’s head to her ear and frowned. “She said I should have known by her blue dress that she was Jewish. She’d rather be called ‘Hannah’ in honor of Hannukah.” Mom looked a little more content with that answer, and Dad was just cracking up. Stephanie sat Hannah on the couch next to her, and showed her each of her other presents as they were opened.

Christmas wouldn’t be Christmas without receiving an embarrassing gift of underwear. It was extra embarrassing for Stephanie to get a four-pack of panties in pretty colors and prints. They somehow seemed worse that the white ones she’d been wearing so far. It got even more embarrassing when her next package was two more pairs of panties in pretty colors, and these had matching training bras. When Michelle made her show what she’d gotten, even Dad was embarrassed to be looking.

Michelle’s gift to Stephanie was a pair of small gold hoop earrings. She said they were more comfortable to sleep in that the ones they pierced her with. That reminded her that she was going to show Stephanie how to change her earrings, so she dragged Stephanie up to her room. She went into the attic space behind her closet and pulled out her fishing tackle box. Then she went into the bathroom and came out with a bottle of rubbing alcohol.

Michelle started by cutting a couple three-inch lengths of heavy fishing line. Then she cleaned them off using the alcohol and some cotton balls from her makeup table. She had Stephanie sit in front of the mirror so she could see what she was doing. She warned Stephanie that the next part might be a little uncomfortable, but since she’d been spinning her earrings as ordered it shouldn’t be too bad. She threaded the fishing line through the holes in her ears, next to the earrings. With the strings still in her ears, Michelle then took her earrings out. Then she used the fishing line to guide Stephanie’s new earrings through the holes, and latched them closed behind her ears. Finally, she pulled the strings out, leaving the earrings in place.

Stephanie thanked her sister and said that they probably would be more comfortable to sleep in than the others. Michelle cleaned up her earlobes with the alcohol-soaked cotton, and she saw a little blood. It was kind of scary, but Michelle seemed to know what she was doing. She put the pieces of fishing line in Stephanie’s room, and told her she could use them any time she wanted to change her earrings, since her holes wouldn’t be finished healing before her week was up. Then the sisters went back down to finish opening presents.

Stephanie’s other presents were an assortment of plastic bracelets, a set of colored pencils (which was the only present she got that Steven would also like), a new pair of shoes so she wouldn’t have to wear her shiny Mary Janes all the time, and a nice watch that used to be her mother’s but was a lot prettier than the one she’d borrowed from her sister.

The presents that Stephanie gave everyone got very positive reactions. Stephanie got her sister a nice looking hair band. Back on the first day when they were getting Steven girls’ underwear for the Christmas play, Michelle had lent her little brother a headband to help him pretend to be Stephanie. So she wanted to return the favor and get her big sister something to remember that moment. Michelle thought it was very sweet and thanked her even more than she did for her other present, a gift card for getting music for her iPod that she’d bought back when she was still a boy.

Steven had originally gotten his mother a red scarf that was nice, but really didn’t mean anything. Stephanie’s additional present for her was a gift certificate to the beauty salon that had created her own new look. She said that when they’d been there before, Stephanie got all kinds of things done and Michelle had gotten her fingernails done, but their mother had just sat and watched; she deserved to feel pretty, too. Mom got a little weepy and gave her little girl a big hug.

Stephanie’s present for her Dad was a bigger deal. She said that it wasn’t fair that he had to go stand in line at midnight in the cold to get Steven a Nintendo Wii and have nothing to show for it. Stephanie said that the video console should belong to the whole family to share, and so she got her father a Tiger Woods game that he could play on it. She told him that the guy in the store said that it’s supposed to be a good enough simulation that it could help his actual golf game. She made sure that he knew this definitely wasn’t a trick to get him to hook up the game early; she wouldn’t be playing it until she was Steven again. It was a much better present than a tie. Dad stood up and tried to give his son a manly handshake of appreciation, but his daughter gave him a girlish embrace instead.

When all the presents had been opened, Stephanie worked on gathering the torn wrapping paper and empty boxes to put them in the recycle bin, Mom got Michelle to help her get lunch (a light selection of cold cuts and salads) ready, and Dad worked on assembling the magazine rack that Mom had given him for his study. Picking up the trash almost felt normal, like something Steven would have had to do anyway.

After lunch, Stephanie had some free time to herself for the first time since she became a girl. She wasn’t sure if any of Steven’s hobbies were appropriate for a proper young lady. Video games were right out, since they’d be too strong a reminder. He liked to take model airplane kits and put them together wrong to change the designs into cool spaceships, but that was a little too boyish and she didn’t have one anyway. He spent a lot of time drawing secret comic books, but Stephanie didn’t feel right working on them dressed as a girl. She didn’t want to draw anything else so she could save her new pencils for Steven. When Mom turned her room all girly, the bookshelves were removed, so she didn’t have anything to read.

She went down the hall and asked Michelle if she had any books from when she was younger that would be good for a girl her age to read. She said she thought she might have some and went scrounging through her attic. She pulled out an old box full of paperbacks, and got a nostalgic smile as she remembered the stories she used to love. At first she handed Stephanie four books about the “Baby-sitters Club,” but then something else made her start to giggle.

With a weird expression on her face Michelle handed a book titled Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret to her. She said, “This one is perfect for you. It’s all about becoming a teenage girl. It will let you know what to expect.” Stephanie took the book and thanked her, but something in Michelle’s face seemed off. She recognized the author as having written some books that Steven liked, so she thought she’d probably like it as well, and didn’t get why her sister was acting funny.

But since she didn’t have anything better to do, she went into her room, kicked her slippers off and lay on top of her bed to read the book. It caught her interest quickly —like Stephanie, Margaret’s age was eleven going on twelve, so she found her easy to relate to. But then she started talking about bras and periods and it got kind of embarrassing.

The part where Margaret went shopping for her first bra was scarily similar to Stephanie’s own experience getting one. For a brief moment, she considered putting one on under her nightgown to look more girlish, but she was sure that Michelle would notice and tease her for it.

The period stuff was just gross. There was a day in the fall at school when the girls all stayed in class while the boys got taken outside to play basketball, and Tommy Peters said it was because the girls were in there learning about getting their periods. He said that his brother told him to expect it. Girls around Stephanie’s age started getting ready to make babies, which seemed way too early, but their bodies wanted babies in them, so every month they didn’t have a baby in them their wombs would melt and run out their girl parts. It was pretty disgusting if you thought about it.

And then there was some stuff in the story about kissing boys, something Stephanie was not looking forward to. Ever since Michelle found out Stephanie was going over to Brian Somers’ house for New Year’s, she’d been telling her she’d have to kiss him at midnight. The story’s “happy ending” was even about more periods!

Stephanie marched into her sister’s room and dropped the book on her bed. “Why do you hate me so much?”

Michelle looked up from her magazine and saw a pouty face. “I don’t hate you. You’re my little sister.”

“No, I’m not. And that’s the point! You’ve just been pushing this girl stuff way too hard — like this book, it’s all about growing boobs and kissing boys and periods! You were laughing because you like torturing me. It’s like the shoe store. You hate the real me, so you pretend to like Stephanie-me.” Steven tried to keep from crying.

Michelle stood up and tried to give her baby sibling a hug. “Please sit down, and I’ll try to understand what’s bothering you. I’m sorry if that book was a little too feminine for you.”

Stephanie reluctantly sat on the edge of the bed. “Why are you so pushy about this girl stuff?”

Michelle sat on the other end of the bed to give her enough space. “Okay, I’ve only had one semester of Psych, but I think that should be enough to understand myself. You have to keep in mind that I spent the first six years of my life as an only child, so by the time my personality formed I was pretty used to being the star of the show. And to make it worse, whenever we’d go on vacation with Aunt Jean and Uncle Frank, the only kids around would be the boys. So if I wanted to go explore the woods with Jack and Matt and Danny, I had to be a boy, too. They called me ‘Mickey.’ Sometimes Danny still does.”

She checked to make sure Stephanie was still following, and saw that she’d gotten a little more comfortable on the bed. “So there I am at six and Mommy tells me she’s going to have a baby. She was so sure it was going to be a girl. We still had all my girly baby clothes that didn’t get handed down to Danny, and I’d used some of them on my baby dolls, but this was going to be a real baby sister. I was so excited! I wouldn’t be the only girl in the family anymore. And then you came out and you were a boy and I was so mad! I threw a fit and they made me stay at Grandma’s for the first couple weeks you were home. Eventually I got to the point where a baby was at least a baby, so I tried thinking of you as sort of a living version of a doll. If you’ve ever been around a real baby for a while, you know they’re a whole lot smellier and louder and more annoying than dolls.”

Stephanie was kind of nodding, so she kept going. “So, I didn’t have a baby sister, I didn’t have anywhere near the attention I used to get from Mommy and Daddy, and there was this smelly screamy boy in my house. I wouldn’t say I hated you, but I didn’t really like you much. Then you got older and started walking and talking and stuff and suddenly it was ‘Michelle, watch your brother’ all the time. There was this incident when you were like three and you were running and you broke a vase, and I was the one who got in trouble for it, because I should have stopped you. It wasn’t long after that when I started dressing you in my old clothes and made you play ‘Little Sister Stephanie.’ “

“So is that when you started hating me?”

“I don’t hate you. We just have nothing in common. And once you got in school it was all over for me. When you were in second grade, they had your class take a test and the teacher called Mom and Dad in and they told them that you’d scored some amazing genius numbers on the test. So they started imagining you with some fancy future as a doctor or lawyer or scientist or something, while poor average me will be lucky if I get to be a faceless cubicle dweller.”

“They said that about me?”

“Yeah, do you remember they tried to put you in the smart kids’ class, but you wouldn’t do the work so they bounced you back. But you still have way more aptitude than I’ll ever have. The one thing an older sibling is supposed to be able to do is show the younger one how to do stuff, but schoolwise there’s nothing I can teach you. Like that book you just read in a couple hours — it took me about a week when I was your age. Or how you stopped playing Scrabble with me because you can’t stand my spelling, and I still haven’t got a clue about math. There’s nothing we can relate on.”

Michelle pointed at the tackle box she’d forgotten to put away. “Or like how I made Dad take me with him to go fishing. It’s really pretty cool out there matching wits with a force of nature, and we kind of bonded over it, but he’d always say he couldn’t wait until you were old enough to come with us. He really wanted to do some father-son stuff with you. But then when you were old enough you said the worms were gross and you wouldn’t touch them, and even when we baited your hook for you, you thought the hook was too cruel on the fish, and when I caught this awesome bass and it was flopping around you freaked out! You tried to get as far away from the fish as you could, and you were screaming and we nearly tipped over. I had to throw the fish back, and Dad turned the boat around and we went home, and he said he’s been waiting for you to ask to come along when we go fishing, but you never have since. So even though that’s a boy thing, I can’t give you any advice.”

Stephanie shuddered at the memory of the icky fish, and Michelle put her arm around her. “So I’ve just been sort of waiting for us both to be adults when the age difference won’t matter, and maybe we’d have something in common, but then this cross-dressed Christmas pageant comes along, and when we were in that changing booth and I helped you look like a girl to be less embarrassed, I realized something.”

“What?”

“That being a girl was something that I could give you advice about, that maybe it would be the one thing that we’d finally have in common.”

“But then why did you try to trick me at the shoe store?”

“Huh?”

“You made me look like a girl to go buy shoes, but the shoe store man already knew that the angel shoes were for boys, so we weren’t fooling anyone and it was humiliating!”

“Um, you’re the super-genius, not me. I never would have expected the shoe salesman to know that those shoes were only being bought by boys. I was legitimately trying to spare you some embarrassment. Sure, I was teasing you with the whole ‘Stephanie’ thing because little brothers are made for teasing, but I never wanted to humiliate you publicly.”

“Really?”

“Really.” Michelle gave her little sister a hug. “Are we friends now?”

“I guess.”

“Well in that case, I have an idea. That plain white pearl nail polish they made you wear to be an angel is so boring! Would you like me to do them in a different color?” Stephanie agreed and picked out a color from the array of bottles on her sister’s vanity. Michelle smiled when she saw that it was close to the red she had on her fingers. She showed her little sister that when you had acrylic nails like theirs you needed to use an acetone-free nail polish remover.

Michelle continued the conversation as she painted her sister’s fingernails. “So that’s why I suggested the whole ‘girl’ thing when Mom and Dad were so pissed off at you for opening your presents early. So we could do stuff like this. Why did you do it anyway?”

Stephanie looked down. “To see if they’d been listening to what I asked for. So I’d know they cared. I don’t know really know why. It was kind of a stupid thing to do.”

“Kind of? It was very stupid. And it’s like night and day how well you’re behaving as a girl. If you’d only have put half as much effort into being Steven that you do to be Stephanie, this never would have happened.”

“But there’s really no comparison. Everything I do now I have to stop and think ‘how would a girl handle this?’ But when I go back to being me I don’t have to do that, because I already know how a boy would handle whatever.”

Michelle sighed. “You really don’t get it, do you? That’s the whole point. You’re selling Stephanie short. What you’re really asking yourself is ‘how would a mature, responsible girl handle this,’ and what Steven needs to learn is to ask himself ‘how would a mature, responsible boy handle this.’ And if he’d learn to take that moment to think before acting, he wouldn’t end up in messes like this, and pretty soon it could become second nature like the way you instinctively knew how to spread your fingers and blow on them to make the polish dry.”

Stephanie would have to let that percolate for a while, to see if maybe she agreed with her sister’s idea. It was also more than a little scary how easy this girl stuff was coming to her.

“You know, I think we’re going to have a lot of fun tomorrow at Bobby Perrone’s tea party.”

“First, when she’s a girl her name is Robin. Second, I didn’t think it was right for you to accept her invitation for me without giving me a chance to answer. I thought you were just being mean again.”

“I saw how sweet you were being with him, or her or whatever, and so I was sure you were going to accept. But I thought it would be a fun thing for us to do together as sisters. I’m sorry if I was too pushy.”

Stephanie just shrugged. Michelle had moved on to painting Stephanie’s toenails, so she couldn’t go anywhere. “I guess that’s okay, then.” When all her nails were finally dry, she gave her sister a big hug and felt closer to her than ever. This whole girl thing was totally changing the way she knew the world to be. She hoped that she’d get through the next week without too many more mind-blowing experiences.

Stephanie’s Deal by Jennifer Brock Eleven-year-old Steven Brooks is being punished over his Christmas vacation by having to dress as a girl. In this installment, Stephanie learns about formal wear, breasts, and boys who wear dresses.

Episode 5

“Wake up, Little Sis!”

Steven was awakened by his sister gently shaking him and talking in his ear, or more correctly Stephanie was, since she realized she was still wearing a nightgown and panties. She blinked a couple of times while trying to remember how to wake up as a girl. “Michelle? Is something wrong? What’s happening?”

“We’ve got to get an early start. Go take your bath and I’ll pick you out something to wear.” She noticed that Michelle was already fully dressed kind of nicely in a soft purple dress that came down past her knees. Stephanie wondered why she was in such a hurry, but did as she was told.

The bath did feel really nice, and it was good to take off the tape that kept her boy parts in place; it had been on for two days straight and was getting very uncomfortable. She wanted to have a nice long, relaxing soak in the tub, but she didn’t want to risk her sister barging in and telling her to go faster. She just took as long as necessary to get everything clean.

When she finished and returned to her room in her bathrobe, Michelle was still waiting. Stephanie really didn’t like having to get dressed in front of her sister, but they were both supposed to be girls, so she couldn’t really complain. She had her dress in her new pink panties with the hearts on them, one of her white padded bras, a pair of tan pantyhose (which made her feel grown up and a little sexy), and a full slip. Then Michelle helped her put on a pale green dress that zipped up in the back, and had her slip into her Mary Janes.

Michelle did her little fishing line trick to take out Stephanie’s hoop earrings, which really were more comfortable to sleep in now that she thought about it. She put in the new pink dangly ones that Aunt Jeannie had made. Stephanie thought they looked cute in the mirror, but it took a while to get used to their rattling. Michelle clipped her new necklace behind her neck, and Stephanie put on her new watch. Her sister smiled approvingly when she grabbed her purse on the way out without being told to.

They got their coats and waved a quick goodbye to Mom, and hit the road in Michelle’s car. She finally explained where they were going. “There’s a place in Wallace that has wholesale formals, and hopefully we’ll be able to find dresses there.”

“We’re already wearing dresses. Why do we need more?”

“We’re expected at your little friend’s fancy tea party at 2:00. Knowing her mother, I’m guessing this is the kind of tea party you need to get really dressed up for. You have a bunch of dresses, but none of them are formal. In a pinch I could probably just wear my prom gown from last year, but it shows a little more skin that I’d be comfortable with at a preteen’s party, so it would be nice if we can find something for me, too.”

“Why do we have to go so far? There’s no place in town that sells pretty dresses?”

“Big department stores would only have formal dresses around prom season, and then probably not in your size. Our only other local option would be a little specialty shop, but they really don’t have any stock on hand. You’ll see when you get fitted for your bridesmaid dress; she’ll probably go to a bunch of different bridal shops until she’s satisfied, and then she’ll be picking out colors and styles. She might want you to come along to try something on before she picks it. Now that would just be a sample, not an actual dress. Once she picks a style and color, they’d order your dress and then wait a few weeks for it to come in. And when they have the dress, you’ll have to go back and try it on, and they’ll measure you for alterations, and when the alterations are done, you’ll have to go back.”

“Wow. How do you know all this? You were never in a wedding!”

“Gee thanks for reminding me that you get to be a bridesmaid before me, Little Sis. I’m not exactly sure where I learned about buying bridal wear. It’s just something girls pick up.”

“I thought I’d only have to be a bridesmaid for a couple hours at a wedding, but I have to go dress shopping three times?”

“Um, Honey, weddings are pretty much an all-day thing for the wedding party. You’ve got to get all dressed up somewhere, and then get to the ceremony early, and then stand in a receiving line until the last guest leaves, and then maybe go somewhere for pictures before the reception, and you’re expected to stay through the whole reception. And that’s just on the wedding day. There’s also going to be a rehearsal some time before the wedding, which usually comes with a rehearsal dinner, so that’s pretty much a whole evening. And as a bridesmaid, you can be expected to get invited to the bridal shower, which is usually a few hours on a weekend afternoon. You’re lucky you’re young enough that you’re probably exempt from the Bachelorette party. Danny mentioned something about the wedding party taking a ballroom dancing class, but I’m not sure if he was joking. “

“Oh my gosh. I didn’t realize. I thought I was just volunteering for a couple hours; that’s all Jack’s wedding was. Why didn’t anybody tell me before I said yes?”

“I’m sorry, Kiddo. I guess we thought you knew. It is a really nice thing you’re doing for Grace and Matt, so just keep that in mind.”

“So even after my contract is out, I’m going to have to be Stephanie at least six more times?”

“Looks like it. More if that dance thing is real.”

“Oh, crud.”

“Would that be so bad? It seems like you’re having fun being a girl.”

“It’s not too bad, but I’d rather be myself.”

“Well anyway, that’s how formal dresses usually work. But where we’re going today is a place that sells last year’s dresses at the price the little bridal shop would pay, so we save a bunch of money, but their selection is likely to be limited, particularly for stuff for girls your age, since I don’t think it’s pageant season. We’re going early in case we have to try somewhere else and still get back in time.”

Michelle surprised her by stopping along the way to drive through a Donut Barn to get some breakfast. She even bought Stephanie a cup of coffee. It made her feel very grown up, eating a bagel and drinking a coffee while sitting in a car wearing pantyhose, on her way to go clothes shopping without Mom. It was really pretty cool. When she finished her bagel, she flipped down the visor and fixed her lip gloss, then she turned the radio up and just grooved along with the music for a while.

Michelle just laughed and pretended to be shocked that she’d “created a monster.” She handed Stephanie the little piece of paper that had their directions on it. She’d never been to the place herself and just had some friends get their prom dresses there. She wanted to be able to check with Stephanie for their next turns so that they didn’t get lost. Stephanie liked having the responsibility. It was weird that this was the same sister she was so sure was out to get her only the day before.

They found the place without any wrong turns, and the girls shared a high five. Then Michelle showed her sister how to get in touch with her inner supermodel and do a fierce strut into the store.

They went looking for Stephanie’s dress first. Fortunately, there were indeed a couple rows in a section labeled “Teens and Tweens.” There was a moment of panic when neither of them knew her size, but then Michelle checked the tag on the dress Stephanie was wearing, and learned she was a size 8. But formal sizes are all over the place, so she looked for anything from 7 to 9. They weren’t in any kind of order, so they had to search through the whole rack.

Michelle took one rack and sent Stephanie to look through the other one. She told her to make sure it had the right kind of top — she needed one she could wear her bra under, so she had to avoid halters or spaghetti straps. It kind of creeped Michelle out how many sexy dresses there were in little girl sizes. She showed Stephanie the kind of bodice they were looking for, and that the frillier the dress, the better. They needed the kind of thing her little eight-year-old friend Robin (secretly a boy named Bobby) probably imagined that a lady at a fancy tea party would wear.

They found six potentials, and went to the changing room. The first one was blue and covered in shiny little sequins. It was too small, even though it was a 9. The second one was white and fit okay, but it had a very plain line to it. It looked classy, but not really fancy. Michelle said she thought it was a dress for an upscale flower girl. The third one was a bright red that almost perfectly matched her fingernails, but the big puffy shoulders were made of this netting stuff that really itched, and reminded Stephanie of the bag they sell onions in at the grocery store.

The fourth one also didn’t fit, which was a shame because it was a very pretty pink with tiny beads sewn in patterns all over. The fifth one looked incredible and fit very nice. It was white, and had rows of billowing ruffles. Michelle said that it was probably another flower girl, or maybe a communion dress. But she worried that a white dress might not work; you’re only supposed to wear white in the spring. She also thought it might make her look a little too much like a bride.

But the last one they tried was it! It was a pretty pink sleeveless dress with a big wide skirt that had layers of things under it to make it stick out like a real princess dress. There were patterns of white lace all over. Michelle pointed out that the color matched perfectly some of the beads in her jewelry. It was a little loose in the bust, but she said they could just stuff Stephanie’s bra a little more and the dress would fit better. Michelle thought it was probably a Quinceaá±era dress, made for celebrating a Mexican girl’s fifteenth birthday. A short Mexican girl, if it fit Stephanie so well. It was pretty cool thinking that she was wearing a dress designed for an older girl; it just added to the generally grown up feeling of the day.

Michelle thought they ought to look for some shoes for Stephanie, too. There was a shelf of “pageant shoes” not far from where they’d found her dress, and Michelle picked out a pair of sandals that were made of a see-through plastic that reminded her of Cinderella’s glass slippers. They had high heels, like a whole two inches or so, and felt kind of weird on Stephanie’s feet. But they made her feel like a real lady, so she’d get used to the weirdness.

With Stephanie settled, they next had to pick out a dress for her sister. Michelle thought it would be nice if her dress also matched her earrings from Aunt Jeannie, so they went looking at purple ones. She popped an earring out and handed it to her little sister, so they could split up and look on different racks. She told Stephanie that she usually took a size 7 in juniors’ or 8 in ladies’ sizes. The whole size thing was kind of confusing, so she had to explain that younger women used odd number sizes and older women used even number sizes, because their styles of clothing were different. But in formal gowns there wasn’t as much difference; a dress designed for a fancy grown lady might work for her.

She wanted Stephanie to come with her into the changing room to help zip her up as well as to give an opinion. Stephanie had to leave her dress and shoes with the attendant so no one else would buy them. It was kind of uncomfortable for her when Michelle stripped down to her underwear to try on dresses, and a major shock when she even took her bra off to try on a backless halter-style gown. Stephanie tried not to stare, but her sister’s chest really was pretty.

She ended up going with that halter dress. It was a shiny silky material, and had rows of ruffles around the skirt, which was just as puffy as Stephanie’s. Just to be matching, Michelle also got herself a pair of transparent pageant shoes, although her heels were a little higher. She also found a cute little handbag for each of them, pretty drawstring bags covered in glittery white rhinestones. Michelle didn’t even flinch when the cashier said they needed to pay more than a hundred dollars for all of it, and just handed over her credit card. Stephanie wished she’d be that cool when she was her sister’s age.

They got back in the car and headed home, but stopped on the way at the store to buy some makeup for Stephanie. Michelle said that she wanted to give her a really glamorous look for the fancy party, and it wouldn’t be safe to share hers so they needed to get all new stuff.

They got home with plenty of time to spare. There was going to be food at the tea party, so they only had a quick bite for lunch. Mom wanted to see what they’d bought, but Michelle made her wait until they got all dressed up. She went to her room and got these funny looking little football-shaped things for Stephanie to stuff her bra with. It was kind of weird seeing her reflection with what looked like real boobs, realer than with just her bra padding. Then she put on her new dress, and it really did look better with more on top.

Michelle wrapped a towel around her shoulders to keep makeup from getting on her pretty dress, and fastened it with a safety pin. She pulled Stephanie’s hair off her face with a headband, and then she started putting all of Stephanie’s new makeup on her face. She started by using this paint-like stuff all over to make her skin flawless. Then she drew around her eyes with a special pen, and then brushed heavy mascara on her eyelashes. Stephanie had to close her eyes while Michelle attacked her with a scary-looking eyelash curler.

Michelle used three different colors of eyeshadow on her, so she had to keep her eyes closed for a while, and they felt different when she opened them again. Michelle then dusted her cheeks with blush powder, and finished off by putting lipstick on her top lip and telling her to rub her lips together. Then she had to kiss a tissue to blot. After waiting a little, she then put some lipgloss on top of her lipstick. She sprinkled some sparkly glitter stuff all over and then unpinned the towel. A spray of cologne, and she was done. A look in the mirror showed a girl who was maybe thirteen, looking very sophisticated. She thanked her sister for making her so pretty.

Stephanie then got to watch her sister go through the same process. She had a special bra to wear under her halter, so at least she didn’t have to see her topless again for very long. She helped her sister fasten the towel and handed her things when she needed them. It was really fascinating watching her transform herself from just naturally cute to really glamorously beautiful.

They went downstairs and struck poses for Mom to take their pictures. She told them they both looked really pretty, and couldn’t get over how much older Stephanie seemed. Mom did have a couple pointers for her on how to walk and stand in her heels, and it really made her conscious of her boobs when she stood up straight. Even after practicing sitting down in the big puffy skirt, it still took a couple tries to get into the car.

She gave one last check of her makeup in the mirror before stepping out to walk up to Robin’s door. Stephanie rang the doorbell, and she could hear voices from inside the house. The door swung open, and there was her friend, in a white dress with little bows all over, a pretty hat with little flowers on it behind her head, and cute lace gloves on her hands.

Stephanie told Robin she looked very pretty, and Robin was just awestruck. Her mother, in a really nice frilly yellow dress, came up behind her and had to remind her to invite her guests in. Robin remembered she was trying to be the hostess, and showed the newcomers into the sunroom.

Michelle had a brief conversation with Mrs. Perrone. She told her that she had a lovely home, and said that she was glad she guessed correctly what a “Pretty Dress Tea Party” meant, but she apologized for forgetting to get hats and gloves for the proper tea party look. She asked that Michelle please call her Kendra, and said that the sisters looked perfectly lovely, and didn’t need any more accessories.

The other guests had already arrived. Nine-year-old Tina (who was secretly a boy named Justin) was wearing a pretty pink dress that wasn’t quite as fancy as Stephanie’s, but she got extra credit because her baby sister Rachel and her mother Kelly were wearing identical dresses. They all told each other how pretty they were, and blushes of appreciation circled the room.

Most of them wanted to say that Stephanie was the most beautiful, but she demurred and said that Robin was much prettier. The smile she got in return proved it. The mothers asked where they got their pretty dresses, and Michelle told the story of their morning’s adventure. Kendra asked for the address of the place, and she said she had it written down in the car, and asked to be reminded when they were leaving.

Robin and her mother got up to get the refreshments, and came back wheeling an antique tea cart into the room. Kendra poured tea from a beautiful old teapot into cups, and Robin passed them out. The younger girls took their tea with plenty of milk and sugar, but it was in fact real tea.

Robin also set out a couple of trays of little triangular sandwiches with the crust cut off. She explained that they’d researched tea parties but instead of something snooty like watercress or cucumber sandwiches, they’d made some with jam like one of the books did, but also some with both peanut butter and jam.

Stephanie said that was a very smart decision, and nibbled at a sandwich. It was actually pretty good, although it was tricky trying not to laugh at Robin taking big boyish bites of her sandwich while wearing lace gloves.

Tina pointed out that Rachel wasn’t allowed to go near peanut butter, and her mother wasn’t supposed to have any either, so she made sure the tray nearest her family only had jam sandwiches. Kelly said they were yummy even with just jam, and Stephanie couldn’t tell whether she was just trying to be nice.

I guess she realized that everyone else was eating, because Rachel made a noise that meant she was hungry. Without any embarrassment, Kelly just unbuttoned the top of her dress and brought out a breast for Rachel to suck on. Stephanie tried to be polite and not look.

Robin, however, was almost staring. She asked, “Does that hurt?”

Her mother tried to shush her, and whispered, “Honey! It’s not good manners to ask something like that.”

Kelly laughed. “No, that’s ok. She’s just curious. No, Robin, it doesn’t hurt. Maybe in a few months when she starts getting teeth it might pinch a little. It only gets uncomfortable if she keeps sucking after I’m out of milk, but she’s not that hungry usually.”

Robin was still fascinated. “That’s just, so cool. Is it milk just like milk from a cow is milk?”

“Well, yes and no. It isn’t quite as white as cow milk, and the taste is different.”

Tina chimed in. “Yeah, it’s kind of sweeter.”

It was Kendra’s turn to be shocked. “You’ve tasted it? You mean…”

Tina’s explanation calmed her down. “So that Daddy and I can help with the feeding, sometimes she uses this machine that pumps her milk into bottles. And I spilled once and tasted it. It was good.”

Robin sighed. “It’s too bad we’ll never be able to feed our babies like that.”

Michelle decided to join the conversation. “Don’t be so sure. Even boys have nipples. If a doctor gave you the right hormones, they could be made to give milk.”

Robin was interested. “Really? Boys can have boobs?”

“Well, hormones can make boys grow boobs, too. But I’m not sure if you have to have boobs before you can make milk.”

Tina looked confused. “Why would a boy want boobs?”

Michelle answered, “Well, sometimes a boy will realize that he’s really a girl inside, so when he’s old enough he can go to a doctor and get hormones and operations and things to make him look like a girl, and sometimes he’ll even go all the way and get the boy things in his underpants rearranged into girl things.”

Robin was getting excited. “They can do that? Really?”

“It’s not perfect. She may look exactly like a girl, but she still can’t grow a baby of her own inside. Science can’t make those parts yet.”

Robin was a little dejected. “So I could make milk for a baby, but I couldn’t be a mommy. That’s not fair.”

Tina looked at her friend. “Do you really want to be a girl for real real? This isn’t just a game?”

Robin shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

Michelle interrupted, “You know, sometimes a boy doesn’t feel like a girl inside, and knows he’s a boy but likes dressing up like a girl. There’s a student at my college who’s like that.”

Stephanie cocked her ear. “Is that what gave you the idea to dress me up?”

“No, I don’t know her that well. I hadn’t even thought about her until now.”

Robin looked over and asked, “Would you want to be a girl, Stephanie?”

She felt the weight of being a tie breaker, and tried to find a diplomatic answer. “Well, it’s fun wearing pretty dresses and glamorous makeup sometimes, but I don’t know whether being a girl all the time would be as fun. It’s like, would you really want to live at Disneyland and let the rides and characters be boring everyday things, or is it better to only have one week a year to look forward to? But it would probably be easier doing some things if you were an actual girl.”

Robin’s mother was really uncomfortable with where the discussion was going, and decided it was time to serve the cake. It was a really scrumptious four-layer chocolate cake with creamy fudge frosting. It did an excellent job of filling everyone’s mouths and changing the subject of the conversation to how delicious the dessert was.

Stephanie asked if it was from a bakery, and Kendra said she’d made it from scratch. Stephanie asked for the recipe, and Michelle explained that her little sister had discovered the joy of cooking for her family. Kelly talked about how Tina had been a godsend around the house ever since the baby was born, even before she was playing at being a girl. There was nothing that would keep a boy from cooking or cleaning.

Eventually, the party wound down and it was time to go. Michelle went to get the info for the formals store for Robin’s mother, and Stephanie said her goodbyes. She knelt down and gave Robin a little hug as they were leaving. “Tina and her little sister look really sweet together. And Michelle here has usually been pretty cool to her little sister. I think it would be really awesome to have a little sister of my own, so I’d like to know if you want the job. What do you think? Would you want to be my official little sister?”

Robin smiled broadly and squeezed tighter. “Really? That would be great!”

“Okay, then. It’s official. If you ever need someone to talk to, you can call me, for whatever. I’ll be there for you.” She gave her a kiss on the cheek and went out to the car with her other sister.

Stephanie’s Deal by Jennifer Brock Steven peeked at his Christmas presents, so his family decided that his punishment should be to live as a girl until he had to go back to school. Stephanie has a date in four days, but before that she’s going to spend a day with her mom, try to stop a fight, and enjoy some retail therapy.

Episode 6

Thursday morning Stephanie woke up and liked that for the first time since becoming a girl there was no specific schedule for the day; no one would be telling her what to do or when to do it. She got out of bed, checked her hair in the mirror, and put on her robe and slippers.

Finding herself in a silly mood, she struck up a conversation with her new doll to help make up her mind. “So, Hannah, what should I do first — take a bath, or get some breakfast? If I take a bath first, then I’d have to get dressed, and I’m not sure what I’m going to do today, so maybe breakfast is the way to go. But then again, maybe they’ve got something planned for me after all. Good idea, I’ll go see if I’m supposed to be doing anything specific. Thanks, Hannah.”

She scampered off, giggling and bouncing, to see where everyone was. It turned out that her father had gone in to the office and her older sister Michelle was gone to catch up with friends she hadn’t seen since going away to college. Her mother was home, though. Stephanie found her in the kitchen. She was frowning over the newspaper and enjoying a cup of coffee. Stephanie asked if there was anything planned for her to be doing that day, and Mom said she hadn’t thought about it.

Stephanie helped herself to a bowl of cereal and over breakfast asked her mother if there was anything she could do to help her out around the house, since she hadn’t come up with any plans of her own for the day. Mom thought about it and decided that she could use Stephanie’s help with the laundry.

It was only when she took her bath that Stephanie realized that she hadn’t been thinking like Steven all morning, and it worried him. This girl stuff was becoming much too easy. At least it was more than half over.

She wasn’t sure what she’d need to wear to do housework. Mom’s advice was to find something casual and comfortable. Michelle usually wore sweats to do housework, but Stephanie’s wardrobe was all skirts and dresses, so she didn’t have anything that low-key. She settled on a pink top that was almost a t-shirt but had lace around the collar, a red pleated skirt, and knee socks.

Laundry was quite a chore. First, she had to empty each of the hampers from everyone’s room into a laundry basket and carry it down to the laundry room to make a big pile of dirty clothes. Then the big pile had to be sorted by color, and the delicates from the three females in the house had to be separated out. Then when the clothes came out of the washer, they needed to be sorted again based on how they’d get dried. Some things went in the dryer on hot, some went in on cool, and some things didn’t go in the dryer at all and needed to be laid out on a rack in the laundry room. When they came out of the dryer, some things got hung up right away and the rest got folded, but they all got sorted by who they belonged to. And finally, everything got delivered back to the right rooms.

While they were putting Stephanie’s clothes away, she asked her mother something that she’d been wondering about. “There’s so much in here. Why do I have more clothes that I’d need for my week and a half?”

“I wasn’t sure everything would fit, so I got you some things in different sizes. Also, I wanted you to have a real girl’s experience at putting an outfit together. If you only had exactly eleven ensembles, it wouldn’t be accurate. Actual girls sometimes go through several outfits in a day, so I wanted you to have that option as well. Plus you have to remember that I was very mad at you that day I first went shopping, so I wanted to overwhelm you with the girliest assortment ever.”

“What’s going to happen to all my girl clothes after I go back to being a boy?”

Her mother sighed. “Well, I’d been planning on keeping just a few things and hanging them in my closet in case you ever did something insanely stupid again, and donating the rest to charity. We could have used the tax deduction. But then you went and volunteered to be in your cousin’s wedding, so we’ll have to keep a good chunk of your wardrobe. We can’t have you showing up at your dance class in the same outfit all the time. So we’ll just have to find a way to squeeze both your Steven clothes and your Stephanie clothes into your dresser and closet.”

“That dance class thing is real?”

“Grace called while you were out yesterday. They want to wedding party to join them on the dance floor at the reception, and that means making sure everyone can dance. So her mother is paying for all of you to learn ballroom dancing. They want the video to be perfect. Since you’re her little brother’s dance partner, it would be tough to convince her mother to let you skip the class.”

“I don’t just have to take a class, but I also have to dance with a boy? Yuck!” Stephanie grimaced.

“Sweetheart, the whole reason why they needed you was to have a partner for her brother. I thought you realized what that meant. You’ll have plenty of time to get used to dancing with him enough so you won’t make that face at the wedding. Definitely not your best look.”

“Plenty of time? How long is this class, anyway?”

“It’s every other Wednesday night starting next week. They’ll come pick you up at 7:00, so you’ll have to be all prettied up by then. The course runs for ten sessions.”

“Ten sessions every other week? So for twenty weeks I’m going to be dancing with a boy? Oh, crud.”

“It’s not so bad. You might even like it. Your father rarely takes me dancing anymore, but when we do go out it’s a lot of fun.”

“If I have to be able to be a girl for twenty weeks, what are we going to do about my hair? And fingernails? And my earrings — if I take them out to be a boy again, will the holes close up, or can I put earrings back in when I want to be a girl?”

“Calm down. It’s not happening yet for a while. You’re still a girl full-time for another five days, so we have plenty of time to come up with a solution for those issues before they become urgent. The goal of your punishment was not to publicly humiliate you, so we’ll find a way to keep your double identity a secret. I promise.”

Stephanie wasn’t quite mollified, but all that laundry really wore her out, and took most of the morning. She just had to trust that her Mom would work it all out in the end. She got to do the vacuuming next, which was loud and annoying, but it gave a real sense of accomplishment to see the marks left by the machine on the clean carpet.

Her mother had lunch ready for her when she was done with all the carpets. They had chicken salad sandwiches and creamy broccoli soup. Stephanie exclaimed about how tiring it was doing housework, and Mom joked that she’d better marry a liberated guy who’ll chip in to do his share. That led to talking about the date Stephanie had made to go over to a boy’s house for New Year’s Eve. Stephanie was very worried that Brian would try to kiss her, and her mother told her that no boy could make her do something she didn’t want to do; if Brian tried to put a move on her she should tell him no in no uncertain terms and then she could call her and she’d come get her, no matter what time it was.

That seemed to cheer her up, so her mother tried to change the subject a little. She asked her how she liked going shopping for dresses with her sister the day before, and Stephanie said it had been fun. Mom then pointed out that she probably would need a new dress to wear to the party. The one she’d worn to the tea party was a little too fancy, and none of her others were quite fancy enough. They decided to make a day of it on Friday, and go out to find her something nice. Maybe Michelle would want to tag along for a real Girls’ Day Out.

After lunch, Stephanie was put to work dusting the living room and dining room, where a million little knickknacks were on display and all needed cleaning. Stephanie didn’t like dusting, and couldn’t understand what the whole point was; they were just going to get covered in dust again. Dusting was tough work, and it even made her sneeze a couple of times. But she got all the little ceramic children cleaned.

Just when she was ready to relax after all her chores, Mom told her there was one more job, and it was the worst; the bathrooms had to be scrubbed clean. It was gross and disgusting, and really made her appreciate all the stinky, messy jobs that her mother did around the house all the time. The couple of little chores Steven normally did to help out at home really weren’t much at all. Maybe when Steven came back, he’d try to do a little more.

Stephanie felt really grubby when she was done, and needed to change her clothes, even her underwear. Mom promised that the housework was done, so her new outfit was a light green blouse and a dark gray skirt over white ribbed tights, with a white button-up sweater to top it all off. Because she wanted to look nice, she used the glittery lip gloss and brown mascara that she’d gotten for Christmas, and put a drop of her cologne behind each ear. She even experimented with putting her new barrettes in her hair.

She wasn’t sure of her new look, and asked Mom for an opinion. She said Stephanie looked lovely. Stephanie asked if there was anything she could do to help out with dinner. Mom was pleased to see her newfound interest in cooking, and put her in an apron and told her to wash her hands. Dinner was this really complicated roast that got rolled up and tied with a string, and Stephanie got to help out at every step along the way, chopping vegetables, measuring herbs, and even got to put a finger on the knot when her mother tied up the meat.

When Michelle and Dad got home, they both commented on the delicious smells coming from the kitchen, and Mom told them how helpful Stephanie had been. Dad joked that some day she’d make some lucky guy an excellent wife, but Michelle told him he was being sexist and you didn’t have to have a vagina to do housework. Mom stepped in and told her not to talk vulgar at dinner time, and Michelle said that there was nothing vulgar about a perfectly natural body part, and then everyone was mad at everyone, and dinner was ruined. It still tasted very good, but everyone ate in silence.

Stephanie was glad that the argument wasn’t her fault, but it was still really uncomfortable. She cleared the table and tried to cheer her mother up but it wasn’t working. She went up to talk to her sister to try to fix things from the other side. She told Michelle that Mom had been looking forward to trying to have a Girls’ Day Out on Friday with just the three of them together, but with two of them fighting that probably wasn’t going to happen.

She asked if Michelle would apologize to Mom for her dinner conversation, and she said that there was nothing wrong with any of the words that she used, so she had nothing to apologize for. Stephanie told her, “You knew that Mom wouldn’t have wanted to hear that word, but you used it anyway.”

Michelle played innocent “What word?”

“You know the one. When you were talking about girl parts.”

“Which girl parts were we talking about? Could you remind me what word I used?”

Stephanie was blushing, and whispered the word softly. Michelle claimed not to have heard her, and made her repeat it louder. Stephanie still wasn’t loud enough. The third time, Michelle seemed satisfied, but gave Stephanie a lecture anyway about how the proper words for body parts were nothing to be ashamed of. Stephanie said that maybe they weren’t, but it still wasn’t the right time to bring the subject up. Michelle would only let the subject drop if Stephanie promised that she’d still help with the housework even when she grew back her penis.

Michelle agreed to say something to Mom. Stephanie went with her as a show of support. She said that she thought the plan for the three of them to do some female bonding was a good idea, and since she was only going to have a little sister for a few more days, she’d apologize for Stephanie’s sake.

Mom was more perceptive than Steven had ever noticed. Instead of staying mad at Michelle, she said that it wasn’t like her to pick a fight and asked her what was really bothering her. Michelle just collapsed in her mother’s arms and started crying tears of frustration. She hadn’t seen her boyfriend Kurt since she’d left college. She tried to call him on Christmas but it went straight to voicemail, and so had every call she’d tried since. He still hadn’t called her back.

Mom just held her for a while. Then she set in trying to solve the problem. She asked if the number Michelle was trying was a cell phone or a real phone, and after a little bit of discussion over what made one phone more real than another, she admitted that it was a cell. Mom suggested that maybe he’d just forgotten his phone or battery charger at school. Being away from his phone might not be as devastating for a guy as for a girl.

Michelle was brightening a little, but she wanted to know why he didn’t just call her from a land line. Mom thought that maybe he didn’t know her number; if he always called her from his phone he’d never need to actually dial the number. Michelle said that she knew for a fact that she was number one on his speed dial, so that could be true.

Mom told her she could call information and get the phone number for his parents’ house. Michelle pouted and wanted to know why he couldn’t have done the same to get their number, but Mom reminded her that they were unlisted. Dad had gotten harassing calls from a disgruntled client once. Michelle looked through her things for the paper with Kurt’s parents’ address on it, and then called 411 from the phone in the family room.

It was hard to follow only half the conversation, but it didn’t sound like she was talking to her boyfriend. Stephanie asked her mother how she knew that there was something bothering Michelle. Mom said that she’d always had a way of easily reading her emotional state, an ability she’d never been able to master with her son (or her other daughter for that matter). Stephanie was always very emotionally guarded.

After Michelle got off the line, she was all smiles and hugged her little sister and her mother and even tracked down her father and said she was sorry for using words he didn’t want to hear. Mom and Stephanie calmed her down enough to find out what happened.

Kurt wasn’t home, but she’d talked to his father. When she gave her name, he knew who she was. Kurt had even showed his Dad her picture! He told her his son was an idiot and forgot his phone at school, only realizing it when he wanted to call her on Christmas Eve. Apparently, he’d been moping around ever since, when finally they made his brother take him out to watch a hockey game. Michelle had given him both the house phone number and her cell, and he promised to tell his moronic son to call her when he got in.

She danced around the living room for a while, and was even in a good enough mood that she accepted when Mom suggested the family gather around the table for a game of cards. They played gin and Stephanie almost won, but Dad pulled ahead on the last hand. The second game got called short when Michelle’s cute little ringtone went off.

Stephanie was getting tired anyway; her day of housework had really worn her out. She put on her favorite flannel nightgown and brushed her hair, and on a whim brushed the hair of Hannah, her doll, too. Then she slipped in between her nice clean sheets to drift off to sleep, hoping she’d have sweet dreams instead of scary ones.

The next day, Stephanie’s mother dressed her in her white padded bra, panties, shiny tights, and slip, under a nice pink dress with a sash that tied in the back. She wore the jewelry her aunt Jeannie had made and her watch, and pulled her hair back with a pink plastic headband. She felt cute, and used her favorite strawberry lip gloss and a dab of perfume on her wrists and behind each ear.

Mom was a little more dressed up than usual, in a nice dress with blue flowers printed on it that she sometimes wore on Sundays, but with redder lipstick than she had in church. Michelle wore a short black skirt and a blue tank top under a pretty black jacket. The three Brooks ladies looking their finest piled into Mom’s car and went downtown to the mall.

Stephanie enjoyed walking through the stores knowing that she looked pretty and completely girlish. It was even fun going from store to store trying on dresses that her mother picked out, looking for the perfect one to wear to Brian Somers’ New Year’s Eve party.

They found it in the fifth store they tried. It was navy blue with white lace along the collar and the hem, and had what Mom called a “boat neck,” where it was wide at the top, almost all the way to her bra straps, but went straight across so it didn’t reveal anything. Michelle teased that Mom had picked it to so that Brian couldn’t try to look down her dress to peek at her boobs. Stephanie said that was a good thing, since she didn’t want him to be disappointed.

Mom insisted that she also needed new shoes to go with the dress, and took her to a few different shoe stores. She actually had Stephanie trying on grownup woman shoes, not girl shoes. They ended up getting a nice pair of navy blue pumps, with a heel that was almost two inches, but it was square instead of small and pointy like the shoes Michelle was trying on, since they were there. If she was going to have navy shoes, apparently she also needed a navy handbag, which meant going to another store. Shopping for an outfit as a girl was very complicated.

Michelle suggested that Stephanie should get some new jewelry, and Mom agreed. They picked out a pair of silver earrings that had sparkly chains dangling from rings hanging on hooks, and then found a necklace and bracelet in that same style of chain. Stephanie thought that she could have just worn the stuff she already had, but Mom said that her little girl would only get to have one first date, and she wanted it to be super-special.

It was kind of weird thinking about going on her first date ever, with a boy. Steven should have been screaming inside that he didn’t want to go out with another boy, but Stephanie was more nervous than anything else. She hoped Brian would think she looked nice.

They loaded all their purchases back into the car and then went to get some Chinese for lunch. The two sisters had to use the ladies’ room before eating, and it felt surprisingly natural. Stephanie worried that maybe this whole thing had gone a little too far when she realized that she hadn’t had a thought in days about the Nintendo Wii that would be the reward for all this.

After lunch, they thought about trying to catch a movie, but there wasn’t anything playing they could all agree on. So they went home and watched Mom’s favorite DVD, The Notebook. Michelle thought it was a cheesy movie, but she sat there sharing a big bowl of popcorn with her little sister and cried a little anyway. Stephanie thought it was a good movie, but she wasn’t sure why her mother liked to watch such a sad movie over and over again.

The girls let their mother have a break, and got dinner together by themselves. It was simple spaghetti and meatballs with garlic bread and a tossed salad, so they didn’t need any extra instruction. Mom peeked in on them having fun working together; it was hard to imagine that they used to get along so horridly.

Dad proclaimed the meatballs to be the best he ever had, and said that he was glad to see everyone smiling and laughing, instead of the tension of the day before. He asked the ladies how their day went, and they talked about all the shopping and female bonding they’d done. It even prompted Stephanie to give a little fashion show after dinner, to show off her new outfit. Dad said he wasn’t sure a pretty girl like her could be trusted around some boy, but she just blushed and giggled.

She did some drawing in Steven’s sketchbook before turning in, just to calm her head. The random scribbled doodle she thought she was making ended up having a lot more little pink heart shapes in it than she expected. She wondered if she really was expected to kiss Brian on New Year’s, and worried that she might not be good at it. Was it wrong to think about stuff like that?

Stephanie’s Deal by Jennifer Brock Eleven-year-old Steven Brooks has spent one full week living as a girl. So far, Stephanie has been enjoying wearing pretty clothes and experiencing life from the other side to its fullest. In this installment, Stephanie sees some of the darker side of being a boy in frills and dresses. Not everyone understands. (There’s also some religion in here, but please don’t think I’m trying to tell you what to believe; I’m just trying to describe what some of the people in Stephanie’s church believe.)

Episode 7

Steven only had four days left, and then everything would be back to normal (well, except for the sixteen or so times he’d have to be a girl again over the course of the next six months, to prepare for being a bridesmaid in his cousin’s wedding) and he’d finally be getting his Nintendo Wii. But until then, he’s still Stephanie, and what’s on Stephanie’s mind the most right now is that in two days, she’s got a date.

Saturday morning, she played around on the computer for a while. She was trying to make sure whether the whole New Year’s Eve kiss thing was real or not. She’d been worrying about this tradition ever since her big sister Michelle had told her about it. Her searching showed that it truly was an actual tradition. Now the only question was whether Brian Somers, the boy who’d invited her to his house for New Year’s, was a follower of that tradition or not. Stephanie wasn’t quite sure if she wanted him to be.

Her mood shifted when she got a phone call just before lunch. Mom wasn’t sure who was on the line, that it was some little kid who’d asked for Stephanie. She picked up the handset from the cordless phone in the living room and very cautiously spoke into it, “Hello?”

The voice on the other end sniffled a little. “Hello, Stephanie?”

She thought she recognized the voice of her eight-year-old friend. “Robin, is that you? Is something wrong?”

Her guess had been correct, but not exactly. “Robin had to go away. It’s just Bobby now.”

“Oh, no! What happened, Sweetie?”

“Mommy had gotten her old Barbies from Nana’s house, and we were playing with them. And Daddy came in and he was all mad. He yelled that Mommy was only supposed to be making me dress like a girl until Christmas, but she’d stretched it out. I tried to say that she wasn’t making me do it — I liked my pretty dresses. But he didn’t listen.” Bobby dissolved into sobs.

“Go on. What happened next?”

“I told Daddy about the stuff your sister had said, about the doctors who can make boys into ladies when they grow up, and that I wanted to be a girl all the time. He started yelling at Mommy in the other room using words I’m not allowed to say. Then he brought me to the bathroom and made me take my clothes off. When he saw the piece of tape he got really ticked off and yelled some more at Mommy, and he made her leave the room. Then he put me in the bathtub and scrubbed so hard it hurt, with the manly sandpaper soap he uses when he gets greasy working on the car. He washed off all my pretty perfume and makeup, and took the curls out of my hair.”

“Oh, that sounds horrible! Are you still sore anywhere?”

“He hurt my ears a little when he took out my star earrings. He dressed me in boy clothes and took me to his barber. They cut off all my hair! It’s shorter than it ever was before. I’ll never look pretty again!”

“You’ll always be pretty on the inside, where it matters most.”

“Thank you. You’re beautiful on both the inside and the outside. I don’t know if I’m allowed to feel real pretty anymore. When we got back from the barber’s, all my girl clothes were gone. Mommy locked them in a trunk in the basement. Daddy was mad that she hadn’t thrown them out like he said to, but she gave him the key and said that maybe I’d get a girl cousin or something who’d want some nice things, so she kept them. Later she whispered to me that maybe we could play dress-up again in a few months when Daddy cools off, but that’s way too long!”

“That sounds really crummy, but at least she’s not making you give it up completely. Maybe you could ask her to get you a wig, so your short hair won’t be a problem when you’re finally allowed back in dresses.”

“A few months sure feels like forever. Besides, Mommy thinks she understands, but she doesn’t. I don’t want to ‘play dress-up.’ I just want to be me, and me isn’t Bobby anymore; me is Robin.”

“Are you sure? You were only Robin for a couple weeks.”

“I’m sure. It’s hard to explain, but it’s just something you know. You get it, right? Isn’t your you Stephanie now?”

Stephanie really wasn’t sure who she was anymore, but didn’t want to lose her friend’s confidence, so she told a half-truth. “Yeah. I think so. It really sucks that your parents can tell you what to do, but that’s what it means to be a kid. They can keep you from being Robin on the outside, but they can’t keep you from being Robin on the inside. Whatever you’re wearing, you’ll know who you are. And you’ll always be my Official Little Sister, even when we both look like boys and have to be secret girls. I go back to being Steven on Wednesday, so we’ll be in the same boat.”

“Thanks, Stephanie. You’re the best Big Sister a secret girl could have! I love you.”

“Same back at you, Robin. Are you going to be okay?”

“I think so. Bye-bye!”

“Whenever you need someone to listen, I’ll be here. See you later!” Stephanie hung up the phone and felt even more confused than usual. She went to her room and wept for a while about the unfairness that Robin had to deal with. She’d thought her parents were hard to live with, but that poor kid had it so much worse!

Michelle was on her own phone with her boyfriend for most of the afternoon, but when she got done Stephanie asked for her help. She figured it was time to try a new color nail polish on her fingers and toes. The red was a little too intense for her, so her sister suggested trying a pink. She made Stephanie remove her old polish by herself, which wasn’t too bad, but then she had her try doing her own toes and they came out so sloppy she had to take it all off and try again. Michelle still wouldn’t do it for her, but slowly guided her through the process. She did Stephanie’s right hand for her, but made her do the left hand herself. She went very slowly and did a fairly decent job all things considered. It seems that the trick was accepting that it would take too coats, so you don’t want to load too much paint on the brush.

While they were doing nails, Stephanie asked Michelle about her boyfriend Kurt: how they met, what he looked like, was he a good kisser, and stuff like that. Michelle showed her a picture of him on her phone, and she thought he did look kind of cute. He had a little beard around his mouth, which made her ask whether it felt weird kissing him. It was different, but you got used to it. Stephanie really liked spending time with her sister learning about girl stuff. She actually thought she might miss her when she went back to college this time. She hung out in her room for a while even after her nails were dry, and got nice and cozy on the couch with her when they watched some TV before bedtime.

Stephanie got up early Sunday morning. She wanted extra time to make sure she was dressed up appropriately for church, and maybe a little because she wanted to be at her prettiest so that Brian wouldn’t decide to change his mind and invite someone else to his New Year’s celebration instead. She wore a frilly pale pink blouse, a khaki skirt, and black tights. The pink jewelry set that her aunt had made went well with the outfit. She pulled her hair back with a headband and put a little of her brown mascara on her eyelashes, and her favorite soft pink lip gloss. Her purse matched her shiny black shoes.

She was kind of nervous going to church, and didn’t quite understand why. She shouldn’t be getting excited about seeing a cute boy; she was really a boy herself. This whole girl thing was very confusing. But there was a light at the end of the tunnel. It was only three days more. Wednesday morning, Steven would get to be a boy again. Stephanie wondered if it would be weird to see Brian again when she was a boy.

On Wednesday night she’d have to be a girl again and would go learn ballroom dancing. Her dance partner would be Grace’s little brother. Grace was a beautiful angel; maybe that would mean Christopher would be even cuter than Brian. And Christopher would never know about Steven, unlike Brian. So he might be even more fun. And she was pretty sure that there were no traditions about members of a wedding party having to kiss each other, so he wouldn’t be as scary as Brian, either.

Stephanie was ready early enough that she got some breakfast ready for everyone. A week of helping her mother had taught her a lot about cooking. She made pancakes and bacon and scrambled eggs for everyone, with a fresh pitcher of reconstituted orange juice and a pot of hot coffee ready for the grownups. Her mother thanked her for helping out and told her she looked very nice. Michelle even had to go back and change so she wouldn’t feel underdressed next to her sister.

Stephanie’s appearance at Sunday School brought mixed reactions. Most of them had been in the Christmas pageant and knew about Steven’s punishment, but a lot of the boys still stared. Some of the girls were supportive, though.

Stephanie made sure to find Bobby before the kids all scattered to their separate classrooms. His hair had indeed been sheared off into a severe crewcut. He was wearing a blue shirt and blue dress pants, and his face was turned down in a perfect portrait of sadness. He brightened up a little at the sight of Stephanie, and she crouched down and gave him a tight hug. She fought back a couple tears and whispered in his ear, “Hang in there, Robin.” She looked at a picture of Jesus on the wall and asked him in her heart to help Robin’s father to see what he was doing to her.

She let go and stood back up, and Bobby trotted off to his class. Stephanie had to take a tissue out of her purse and blot her eyes a little. She saw some brown on the paper and realized she was messing her mascara, so she ducked into the ladies’ room to check her makeup. It did look a little messed up in the mirror, so she wiped her eyes and took her mascara from her purse to fix her eyelashes.

While she was standing at the mirror with her mascara wand in her hand, the door opened and Mrs. Kendall, the boss of the Sunday School, came into the restroom. She had to turn and look at her twice. “Should you be in here?”

Stephanie blushed. “Sorry. I just had to fix my face, and thought this would be the best room for it. I can leave if you need me to.”

Mrs. Kendall got a weird expression on her face. “I suppose looking like you do you’d be even more out of place in the men’s room. And it’s not like the stalls don’t have doors. Just finish quickly and get to class before it starts. Remember, Dear, this is a church not a nightclub. Don’t use too much of that.” She passed Stephanie and went into a stall.

She went lightly with the wand and checked the mirror to make sure she didn’t look too trampy, although she wasn’t really sure what that meant exactly. She hurried off to class.

Her Sunday School class had the chairs arranged in a semi-circle, and she was the last one to show up. The girls tended to sit on one side and the boys on the other, not because they were told to but they just sort of naturally grouped themselves that way. Usually Steven sat on the end kind of off by himself, but the only empty chair was between a couple of girls, Debbie Washington and Elizabeth Patterson.

Debbie was a pretty African-American girl with cocoa-brown skin and nice wavy hair and green eyes that might even be natural, since her mother was a blue-eyed blonde. She wore a long yellow dress made of some kind of soft material. She patted the empty chair and said, “Sit here, Stephanie. I saved you a seat.” She had a nice smile.

Stephanie felt like everyone was staring at her as she walked across the room to the empty seat. She tried to make eye contact with Elizabeth, but she just kind of shrugged. She was dressed in a button-up shirt and dress pants, and with her short hair she almost looked like a boy. Stephanie wasn’t sure why any real girl would ever want to look like a boring boy when she could be pretty. Elizabeth didn’t wear any makeup, not even nail polish. Maybe her parents were really strict. It was a shame, really.

The class leader Mr. Walters called them all to order and started the lesson. He made Stephanie stand up and explain her punishment so the couple of kids that weren’t in the pageant knew what was going on with Steven. Mr. Walters then used Stephanie’s story as the focus of the lesson.

He had Patrick Thatcher, a tubby boy who had been teasing Stephanie the most, open his Bible and read Deuteronomy 22:5 to the class. Patrick read, “A woman must not wear men's clothing, nor a man wear women's clothing, for the LORD your God detests anyone who does this.” He had a big smirk on his face after reading this.

Stephanie was getting really worried. She didn’t want to get thrown out of church for being sinful. But then Mr. Walters turned out to be a good guy. He explained that this part of the Bible was rules for being Jewish, and that as Christians they didn’t have to obey any of those rules. He asked for a show of hands for everyone that had bacon or ham or sausage for breakfast, and almost everyone raised their hands. He pointed out how everyone knows that Jewish people can’t eat pigs, but Christians do. They get to pick which of those old rules to follow.

He told Patrick to read a piece from the previous chapter where it said that a son who was rebellious and didn’t obey his parents was to be stoned to death. He then got the group into a discussion where they were to pretend that they really did have to follow all those old Jewish laws. Now if Steven’s mother told him to wear a dress, should he put it on and break the law against men dressing as women, or should he not wear it and get put to death for not obeying his mother?

It was a tricky puzzle, and most of the kids said to wear the dress, since it’s better to stay alive. But being detested by God could be just as bad. Stephanie finally spoke up and said that the passage said that a man wasn’t supposed to dress like a woman, but it didn’t say that applied to kids, too. From what he knew about Jewish law, a boy would have to have a bar mitzvah to become a man, and since he hadn’t had one, he hadn’t broken any Jewish laws.

Mr. Walters was impressed by Stephanie’s ability to weasel out under the specific wording, and chalked it down to her father being a lawyer. She didn’t know about that, but she did mention that the contract she had to sign to agree to be a girl until school started was written up in very tight language, and she hadn’t found any loopholes yet. Mr. Walters said that weaseling out of God’s rules isn’t really the way to go about avoiding sin, but fortunately those particular laws didn’t apply to modern Christianity.

The discussion then went into which Jewish laws Christians do accept as useful, and Mr. Walters got into the meat of the lesson. The class went through The Ten Commandments, and pretty much agreed that they were a good basis for morality. He said that a lot of Christians like to try to keep them, but you didn’t have to. He turned to the New Testament, where Jesus kind of threw away the old rules. He read from the book of Matthew where the whole thing got boiled down to two commandments: “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind,” and “Love your neighbor as yourself.”

Stephanie found that very refreshing. It was good to know that she wasn’t doing anything sinful by becoming a girl. But since her cross-dressing started for the Christmas pageant and she accepted her date with Brian during the coffee hour after service, and she was going to have to continue through to Matt and Grace’s wedding, it seemed like a lot of what was making her be a girl was related to one church or another. So maybe there was a plan behind it all.

After church, as people were gathering for refreshments in the Fellowship Hall, Brian found her and brought her some punch again. He told her she looked cute, and she tried to look away and just kind of peeked at him through the corner of her eye. He told her he was looking forward to having her over at his house the next day. She tried to pretend that she’d completely forgotten about his invitation, but it didn’t work. He pointed at their two mothers chatting across the room, nonchalantly reaching his arm around behind her. Stephanie wanted to kind of lean against his arm, but he removed it too quickly.

But then Pastor Moore came over to the mothers and was pointing in their direction. They couldn’t tell what he was saying, but he seemed to be angry at something. Mom walked over and told Stephanie they were leaving. She gave Stephanie the keys and told her to go wait in the car while she found Dad and Michelle. Stephanie told Brian she’d see him the next day and walked out, confused.

Mom was still mad when she got in the car. Dad needed to know what was wrong, so when she was calm enough to make actual words she explained, “The Reverend saw me and Lynda talking and said that he’d heard from the grapevine that our boys were going on a date. (It’s not a date; it’s just a party and what business of his is it anyway? But that’s beside the point.) He pointed over at Stephanie and Brian flirting, like it would prove his point. He said that he felt that it was necessary for him to come over and remind us that homosexuality was a sin against God and Nature, and we needed to put an end to it right away! He got me so pissed off for getting into my family’s affairs, not his that I just had to get out of there right away.”

Class had been so uplifting, but don’t ministers outrank Sunday School teachers? Maybe what Stephanie was doing was wrong after all. She was very confused. “Does this mean I can’t go to Brian’s for New Years’ Eve?”

“Don’t worry about it, Honey. You’re going. I’m pretty sure that Brian’s mother was just as annoyed with the pastor. She even let him know that your so-called ‘date’ was even a sleepover. I may have gone a little overboard when I left, though.” Mom mumbled the end of her sentence.

Dad was concerned. “What did you do?”

“I sort of excused myself by saying we had to hurry before the stores close to get Stephanie some K-Y for tomorrow.” Mom seemed really embarrassed.

Michelle hollered, “Way to go Mom! That’s how you stick it to The Man, so to speak.”

Stephanie was still confused. “I don’t get it. What does that mean?”

Michelle said, “I’ll tell you later, Sis.”

Mom corrected her, “You’d better not. Stephanie, I was implying that you and Brian would be engaging in sexual activity at his party. I know very well that you won’t be, but I was trying to goad Pastor Moore. It was wrong of me, and I shouldn’t have. I’ll wait a couple days and apologize to him.”

Stephanie nodded. “Okay. Is the party really a sleepover, or was that pretend, too?”

“It’s really a sleepover. We’ll pack you a bag with a nightgown and a change of clothes for the next day, and send you over with a sleeping bag. That way if you fall asleep before midnight it’s not a problem, and we won’t have to worry about driving to get you late at night.”

After lunch, Stephanie borrowed one of her sister’s Babysitters’ Club books to kill the afternoon, but her Mom interrupted her reading. She was carrying a pair of Steven’s jeans and a short-sleeved shirt. “The other day you were worrying about how we were going to make you look like a boy for school on Wednesday morning and still be able to become a girl again in the evening for your dance class. There are a couple of experiments I want to try. Put these on and meet me in my room.”

When Mom left, Stephanie looked at the clothes she’d been handed. She hadn’t brought any underwear, so Stephanie would be wearing panties under boy clothes, but that was sort of a good thing. She didn’t want to break her promise, so she had to stay Stephanie for a few more days. She kept her panties and training bra on, so she still wouldn’t be returning to Steven, she’d be Stephanie dressing up as a boy. On one hand it was very confusing, but on the other it made a lot of sense. She went into her mother’s room and did a girlish twirl to show off her “tomboy” outfit.

Mom outlined her plan. “There are some things I’m not going to do today so that you can still be your prettiest for your date on Monday, but I’ll tell you the solutions. First, we’ll have to take your fingernail extensions off, but we can still keep your real nails well-groomed. Many girls your age keep their nails short. They’ll look girlish enough if we paint them. And you’ll have plenty of time to put on fresh nail polish before each of your dance classes, and we can remove it when you get home. Do you follow so far?”

Stephanie nodded. “I think so. I’ll be sad to lose my nice long glamorous nails, but it’s understandable.”

“We can get tips put back on them for when you’re in Matt and Grace’s wedding. We’ve got a couple weeks between the end of your school and the wedding, which should be plenty of time you get you a manicure.”

“That makes sense.” Stephanie really liked Grace and wanted to do her best to be a good junior bridesmaid.

“The other thing I’m going to ignore right now is your earrings. There are two ways we can deal with this. The first option is that we can just take them out and let your holes heal up; we’ll get you some clip-on earrings you can wear to dance class, and we’ll get your ears pierced again before the wedding.”

“Would clip-ons fall off if I danced too hard? I’m not sure I like that option. What’s the other one?”

“They make little transparent plastic things to put in your piercings to keep them open, for like when any of those ridiculous punks wants to have a real job. We can get you a pair of those for your ears, and then we’d just swap them for your regular earrings on dance class nights.”

“I think I’d like to try that. If those little things aren’t too expensive, can we get some and see how invisible they really are, and if they show we can go with the other thing?”

“I don’t think they’ll cost too much. I saw some online, but I think I’ll send Michelle to one of those scary places where those ridiculous punks get metal stuck in them. I just hope she doesn’t come back with more holes than she leaves with.”

“Okay. What else will you do to make me look like a boy?”

Stephanie’s mom shook her head at the way that question was phrased, but didn’t want to call attention to it. “Well those were the only too areas we won’t touch right now. But there are a couple of other things we can do. First, go wash your face. I should have told you before, but I hadn’t realized you were wearing lip gloss.”

Stephanie liked feeling pretty and didn’t really want to take off what little makeup she was allowed, but she washed her face anyway. She still saw “girl” when she looked in the mirror. Even though the bra under her shirt wasn’t padded, she still felt it there and thought she could see its contours through her shirt.

When she returned to her mother, Mom squeezed some stuff out of a little tube into her hands and rubbed them together. Then she ran her hands through Stephanie’s hair, pushing everything back. The gel held Stephanie’s hair in place, leaving a slicked-back style. It wasn’t a way Steven had ever worn his hair before, but it looked relatively boyish. Mom pointed her at a mirror and asked, “What do you think? Will that hairstyle work?”

Stephanie thought it might. Nobody really noticed Steven much at school, so he could probably get away with it. “It should be believable. I almost look like a real boy.”

Mom laughed, hoping Stephanie was joking. She ran her sticky finger across Stephanie’s eyebrows, and then took a little comb and brushed them backwards so they got bushier. It did really help sell the image as “boy.” They then went downstairs to show her father and sister. Stephanie had to put her hands in her pockets to hide her painted fingernails. The general verdict was that she looked enough like a boy to not get picked on at school.

Mom explained the rest of the plan. “So, on days you have dance class, you’ll come home and take a shower right away to wash the product out of your hair, conditioning and blow-drying to give it more body, then you can put on a dress and we’ll paint your nails before dinner. They’d be plenty dry by the time they come to get you. I think it will work. You can lead your double life without anyone catching on, just like Batman.”

Stephanie wasn’t really sure why Mom felt the need to bring up Batman again, but nodded anyway. She didn’t want to be a half-boy / half-girl for too long, so as soon as Mom said she could, she went up to wash her hair and then change back into pretty girl clothes. It helped steady her to get back in lip gloss and cologne.

Those Wednesday night dance classes would be rough days having to change back and forth twice in one day. Maybe she’d just end up going to bed a girl on dance class nights and turning into a boy in the morning. She thought that her nightgowns were more comfortable than her old boy pajamas anyway. Would it be weird to wear one every night, even on nights without dance class when she was a boy all day?

Stephanie’s Deal by Jennifer Brock Steven snuck a peek at his Christmas presents and as punishment was forced to spend his vacation living and dressing as a girl. Stephanie’s handled things ok so far, but with only two days left the scariest part is coming up: she has a date with a boy to his family’s New Year’s Eve party. What will she do if he wants to kiss her? Find out in this extra-large installment. (My way of making it up to the readers I April Fooled)

Episode 8

Stephanie had a weird dream where it felt like she was a completely different person. She couldn’t remember it exactly, but it did wake her up early. Today, and then tomorrow, and then the deal would be over and Steven could wear his own clothes and be himself again. Being a girl wasn’t so bad, really. But it wasn’t really normal. Stephanie wasn’t real, and Steven would have to be some kind of weirdo to want to be her more than he had to.

At least there would be all those dance classes and other things associated with being a part of Grace and Matt’s wedding where Stephanie would have to reappear, so she wouldn’t be going away forever. She wouldn’t have to worry about giving up all her pretty things until some time in June after the wedding. That would be rough, but it wasn’t something anyone needed to think about yet.

Stephanie stopped worrying about the far future and focused on worrying about the near future. She’d being going to Brian Somers’ house that night, for a New Year’s Eve party, and a sleepover, and he might be expecting her to kiss him at midnight, because that’s what couples do on New Year’s, and Brian said it was kind of a date. Stephanie really didn’t know what to do on a date, and the kissing part scared her tremendously — what if she wasn’t any good at it?

She asked her doll Hannah for advice, but she didn’t have any. The house was still pretty quiet, so she probably couldn’t go ask her Mom or her big sister Michelle about what to do on a girl’s first date with a boy. She pursed her lips at the mirror over her bureau to see if it looked like she was making the right kind of kissing face. She wasn’t sure; in the movies they always close their eyes, so she had to squint and peek to get the proper effect.

She was going to have to take a bath later, before getting ready for the party, so she just went across the hall to the bathroom to brush her teeth, change the tape that held her boy parts out of the way, and relieve her nervous bladder.

She took off her nightgown and dressed in a matching training bra and panty set she’d gotten for Christmas, and then stood by her closet to pick out something to wear. There were a bunch of clothes she hadn’t gotten a chance to wear yet, so she tried on a number of things before settling on an outfit to relax in until it was time to get dolled up in her new party dress.

She ended up wearing a matching light purple top and skirt in a soft knit material that kind of looked like a dress even though it was in two pieces. She wore a camisole and half-slip set under it, and pink tights with her black Mary Janes. She brushed her hair and pulled it back with a pair of barrettes. She kept her little hoop earrings that she wore for sleeping in place, and added her watch and a chain necklace. A little cologne behind her ears, a little lip gloss, and she was ready to face the day.

Her stomach was still dancing so she wasn’t very hungry. She went down to the kitchen and poured a small bowl of Rice Krispies. She was still eating her breakfast when her father came to grab a bite for himself. He was all dressed up in a suit and tie. “Good morning, Daddy! You look very nice. Are they making you go to work today?”

“Oh hi, Sweetheart. I didn’t expect to see anyone else up this early. You’re looking very cute yourself.” He started up the coffee maker and popped some bread in the toaster. “I have to go into the office this morning, but I should be home just after lunch. I had to call in some favors to get a judge to see us this morning, but Mrs. Clayton really wanted to greet the new year as a single woman.”

“Is it sad having to deal with all those marriages that didn’t work?”

“Sometimes, but people are human and make mistakes. And sometimes those mistakes are marriages made for the wrong reasons. Where I come in is helping people figure out how to divide all the things they collected together. And like Mrs. Clayton, I get to see them starting off on new lives, which can be exciting for them, occasionally.” The toaster popped and he spread some jam on it. “But don’t you worry about it, Honey. I’m sure when you fall in love it will be happily ever after for you and your husband.” He took a bite out of his toast. “Oh, wait! For you and your wife, I mean. You look so natural there; I’m forgetting who you really are.” The coffeepot beeped and he filled his travel mug. “I’ve got to go. I’ll see you later.” He gave her a pat on the head and a kiss on the cheek and left for work.

She finished her cereal and tried to picture herself with either a husband or a wife. It seemed too far into the future to clearly envision. But thoughts of weddings reminded her that she’d have to go to ballroom dancing class in two days. She tried to imagine what Grace’s younger brother would look like. She was absolutely beautiful, so maybe he was just as good looking. In a way, she not only had a date with Brian, but also a series of dates with Christopher to look forward to. It made her very scared, but also excited in a good way. It was like a sign of growing up. Little kids didn’t have dates.

But of course, Stephanie wasn’t a little kid. In only seventeen days, she’d be turning twelve. Or at least Steven would. Since all her Christmas presents had been for a girl, maybe the ones they were going to give Steven would become birthday presents. Except the Nintendo, that is. The contract stated that Steven would get his Wii as soon as school started up again, as long as Stephanie was a good girl until then.

And that was only two days away. School would start, Steven would be a boy again in the morning and then Stephanie would go to dance class in the evening. So wait a second — Steven would be getting his Wii on the same day that Stephanie was starting dance class. He wouldn’t have any time to play with it! That wasn’t fair. He’d have to wait until Thursday to find out what it could do.

Stephanie realized that she was thinking like a boy again, and that was bad. It would be just like Steven to mess up so close to the finish line. She had to be as girly as possible for the next two days, and then she could start dealing with boy stuff again. She needed to do something girlish to kill time. Mom and Michelle were still in bed, so she went into the living room and quietly turned on the TV and flipped around the channels looking for a show a girl would watch.

She couldn’t find much except news and shows for babies, so she looked through their DVD collection for something that seemed feminine. She found The Princess Diaries, which she could remember Michelle playing over and over again when she was Stephanie’s age, and popped it into the machine. It was a pretty cool movie. Stephanie got so caught up in it that she didn’t notice when her mother and sister came in and joined her until they all sighed in appreciation when the princess gets kissed.

When it was over, Michelle pointed out that they made a sequel. Mom thought that watching sweet movies with her daughters was a great way to spend the morning; she wasn’t sure when the three of them would all be together again. Stephanie would be turning back into a boy most of the time in two days, and Michelle would be going back to school in less than two weeks. Before too long, she’d be the only girl in the house again. It was nice to be in the majority, if only for a little while.

Stephanie mostly kept her mind off her worries, but she did try to pay attention during the kissing scenes to see how a girl is supposed to close her eyes and turn her head, and whether you’re supposed to touch the guy or keep your hands to yourself. There were a lot of little things that went into a seemingly simple kiss.

The “Brooks ladies” shared a light lunch of roast beef sandwiches and a pasta salad that Stephanie helped her mother put together. Cooking was pretty fun, and she thought that Steven might want to continue helping his Mom in the kitchen even after he wasn’t a girl anymore. They set aside some leftovers for when Dad came home, and then the two sisters cleaned up the mess from the meal.

Stephanie’s mother had a surprise for her. She brought a couple things out from the laundry room to show her. “I found your sister’s old Barbie backpack and sleeping bag in the basement, and ran them through the dryer to freshen them. They’ll be perfect for your overnight.”

Thinking about it reminded Stephanie’s stomach to be nervous. “Thanks, but aren’t I kind of old for Barbie?”

“Nonsense! These were Michelle’s when she was your age. And watch your grammar.”

Stephanie’s sister spoke up. “She’s got a point, Mom. There’s a reason why they’re in such great shape. I think I maybe used them once.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You can see that they’re the right size for Stephanie. If they were made for a younger girl, they’d be a lot smaller. Have you thought about what you want to pack for your sleepover?”

Stephanie shook her head. “I really don’t know what I need. Could you help me?”

Mom and Michelle both agreed to help out and they all went up to look through Stephanie’s closet. The outfit they picked out for her to wear the next day was a white turtleneck blouse under a brown corduroy jumper (a thing kind of like a cross between a dress and a pair of overalls), paired with a pair of white ribbed knee socks and the shoes she got for Christmas.

It was fortunate that Michelle pointed out that one of Stephanie’s colored training bras might show through her white top, so she would need to wear one of her white padded bras under it. Brian wouldn’t have to see her looking completely flat-chested. The less he thought about her as a boy the better.

Since it would be her last day, she packed up the star earrings she had to get for the pageant that started this whole thing, along with the necklace and bracelet that matched them. There was a nice little pocket on the backpack that fit her jewelry nicely. She added her white plastic headband, which would make for an easy way to do her hair in the morning.

Her mother picked out a nightgown for her to bring with her. It was ankle-length and long-sleeved, made of pink flannel printed with a pattern of little flowers. White rules decorated the collar, cuffs, and hem. Stephanie thought it looked a little too “grannyish,” but couldn’t think of a way to tell her mother that she wanted to look prettier for Brian, maybe even kind of sexy, if that wasn’t too weird. But there’s no way Mom wouldn’t freak out over that, so she kept her mouth shut.

Dad got home from work while they were packing, and then it was a question of figuring out who got to use which bathroom first, since everyone had a party to get to. Mom and Dad were going to a fancy dinner party at his boss’ house. Mom was looking forward to trying to find more clients; the end of the year was always when people needed help working out their taxes. Stephanie really hoped that Dad wasn’t trying to find people at the party looking to get divorced; his job was so unromantic.

Their party was starting the earliest so Dad commandeered the hall bathroom while Mom was getting ready in the master suite. Mom looked really pretty in her bright blue cocktail dress, and Dad was rather handsome in his tux. Michelle teased them about looking like two kids going to the prom, and told them to be home by curfew. She let them know she might not be home until morning. She was going over to her friend Molly’s house to get together with some kids she hadn’t seen since high school, and wasn’t sure if they’d be drinking. She was prepared to crash on the couch if necessary.

Stephanie took a nice long bubble bath to try to calm down, but it didn’t work. Her heart was racing a mile a minute. She got out of the tub and dried off, and then was extra careful taping things up. She didn’t want anything to fall out of place and remind Brian of her secret. She put on her bathrobe and asked her sister to help her dry her hair. Michelle had quite a time on her hands trying to keep her little sister from spinning out of control.

Stephanie put on a pretty pair of light blue panties with butterflies on them and one of her white padded bras. She thought about asking Michelle if she could borrow the extra padding she’d worn with her fancy dress to Robin’s tea party, but she didn’t want to tell her the real reason, and the bra had been all she had when Brian asked her out in the first place so it should be enough for him.

She rushed putting on her pantyhose and they got a nasty run in them. She almost wanted to cry at having ruined her big date, but Michelle caught her quickly enough and showed her that there were three pairs in the package so she didn’t need to worry. She even helped her sister get a new pair on, getting her to slow down and do it carefully.

Watching her hands working her hose up her leg, Stephanie started wondering if maybe her pink nail polish was maybe too unsophisticated and made her look like a little girl. She asked her sister if there would be enough time to change her nail polish, but then she realized that her toes wouldn’t match, and even though they’d be in shoes all night he’d still see her feet when she was in her nightgown, and so she’d have to take her nylons off to change her toes. She was well on her way to a full-blown panic attack when her sister talked her out of changing her nails. She explained that a stronger color would draw too much attention to her hands, and on a first date you really want the guy looking more at your face. Michelle also had pink nails, so that proved it wasn’t a color just for young girls.

She helped Stephanie pull on the white full slip she’d worn under her angel costume, and then had her step into her new dress. She guided her arms into the sleeves and zipped up the back. She told her that if she had trouble unzipping it at night, she could ask Brian’s mother to help her. She slipped her feet into her new shoes and Michelle gave her a few pointers in how to walk in heels. She had her walk back and forth a few times, until she felt comfortable. The shoes weren’t that high, but they were taller than what she’d worn so far.

Michelle put a towel around her shoulders to protect her dress, and then did her makeup for her. It wasn’t as extreme as for the tea party, but a little more than everyday. She gave her some black mascara, just a touch of pink eyeshadow, and a faint dusting of blush on her cheeks. Stephanie put on her own lipgloss, and then put everything in her new purse. She decided to use her silver barrettes in her hair, just to fancy it up a little, and then put her hairbrush in her purse.

She swapped out her earrings for her new ones, and Michelle reminded her to bring her other hoops to sleep in. She put those in her purse along with the pieces of fishing line her sister had shown her how to use for changing earrings. Her hands were still shaking so much that she needed help getting her necklace and bracelet on. Michelle spritzed her with perfume and then told her to pose while she took a picture with their mother’s camera; she’d wanted to see how Stephanie looked in her new outfit and asked for a photo to mark the occasion of her youngest’s first date.

Finally, Stephanie was ready to go. She had sort of gone beyond nervous at this point. It was too late to change anything, so she just had to accept her fate. She was going on a date with a boy, and would try her best to have fun with it. Worrying wouldn’t get her anywhere. She put on her coat and Michelle gave her a hand loading her stuff into the car. After double-checking the directions, they drove over to the Somers’ house.

Michelle also carried her bags from the car, so Stephanie could ring the doorbell herself. Brian’s mother came to the door and told Stephanie she looked very nice, and called to Brian to come welcome his guest. Brian showed up quickly, and did a double take when he saw Stephanie. “Wow. You look really pretty.” He was dressed up himself, in dress slacks and a button-up shirt. Brian’s mother told him to stop staring and take her bags down into the basement. He took Stephanie’s things from Michelle, and she told her little sister goodbye, and let her know she’d be back at ten the next morning to pick her up.

Brian told Stephanie to follow him, and he carried the embarrassing Barbie luggage down into their family room. She was glad Michelle had made her practice going down stairs in her heels. He dropped her bags off in the corner and showed her around the room. There was a big entertainment center on one wall, with a huge flat-screen TV in the middle of it, surrounded by various gadgets and a wide multimedia library. There was a big leather couch facing the TV with a couple of overstuffed chairs on both sides, and a big square coffee table in the middle.

To the right of the TV space, there was a long table with some snacks set up on it. There were four doors in the room: one went to a room with the furnace and stuff, one went to a big storage closet, one went to the laundry room, and the last one was a bathroom. Stephanie just kind of stood there, not sure what to do. Brian realized that Stephanie still had her coat on, and apologized for not taking it from her earlier. She took it off and he went upstairs to hang it in the coat closet.

Brian’s mom came down to make sure Stephanie was settled it okay, and commented that her dress was very pretty. Stephanie said that Mrs. Somers’ dress looked even nicer. It was red and small and seemed to just flow along her curves, revealing much more skin than anything her mother would wear. Stephanie was impressed by her awesome body, and felt a little envious. She thanked Stephanie and did a little spin to show off her dress and told her she wanted to show her guests that she’d definitely kept her resolution from last year to get her body in shape. Pilates had been worth it, whatever that was.

Brian came back and got a harsh talking-to from his mother about how you should never abandon your guest. Stephanie thought the way he stammered his apology was really cute and giggled behind her hand. After some prompting from his mother, Brian told Stephanie she could take a seat and asked if she wanted a drink. His mother excused herself and left the room, seeing that Brian was now acting like a proper host.

Stephanie considered her options. If she sat on the couch, Brian might want to sit next to her, and maybe try to touch her or kiss her or something. If she sat in a chair, she’d be safe from any funny business, but it wouldn’t have as good a view of the TV, and they were probably going to watch something or play a videogame, and she’d want a better view. That was a reason. She definitely wasn’t picking the couch because she wanted him to try something.

There was a cooler under the snack table stocked with plenty of canned soda. Brian told her what he add and she decided the proper girlish thing to do would be to ask for a diet something. Brian was fine with drinking his out of the can, but she wanted hers in a glass. He brought her back a plastic cup with not only her diet cola but also some ice and even a straw in it, and a little napkin to use as a coaster. His mom really didn’t like rings on the furniture. Stephanie liked the little pink mark her lip gloss made on the straw.

Brian came over and sat down, and set his own drink on the coffee table and then sat near her on the couch, just like she wanted! “You look so pretty in that dress it’s hard to believe you’re really a boy.”

Stephanie blushed. “Thanks, but for tonight could we just like forget that and pretend that I’m all girl? I don’t want the adults upstairs at your parents’ party to accidentally overhear something and start thinking the wrong thing.” She bit her lip nervously.

“Ok, but I’m not sure I could ever get an actual girl as pretty as you to come over.” He smiled at her and she just wanted to melt. “So, I did bribe into accepting my invitation by telling you I had a Wii. Do you want to play something?”

Stephanie had forgotten that he’d said that; she was so worried about it being a date. She asked if they could play the game that comes with the console. If they played some other game and it was really cool, it might be disappointing if she couldn’t play it when she finally got hers. Brian turned on the TV and the game, and popped the CD in for the Wii Sports game.

He handed Stephanie a “Wiimote,” the special control wand for playing the games. It was a cool new piece of technology that lit up and made noise and even vibrated sometimes. But most importantly, it knew how it was being moved around, so to play baseball you swung it like a bat, or to play golf you swung it like a club, etc.

They played a bowling game first, and Brian showed Stephanie that he had created a little “Mii” avatar to represent her in the game. She was a cute little cartoony person that actually kind of looked like her. She had big eyelashes and pink cheeks and pouty little red lips. She wore a pink top that flared out a little, like a skirt. Brian clicked on the one that looked like him, and had her wave her remote around until a little finger appeared on the screen pointing at the cartoon version of her, and she pressed her button.

Playing bowling was a little weird You had to throw the wand like a ball without letting go of it. Brian had done it before, so he was really good. It took a little while for Stephanie to figure out what to do, but he didn’t laugh at her or anything when her video counterpart threw the ball backwards.

Brian threw a strike and Stephanie didn’t think it was fair for him to totally beat her, so he offered to show her what to do. She was willing to learn, but the way he showed her was kind of uncomfortable. He stood behind her and put his hand on top of hers, with his finger pushing hers to show which button to hit when. He was touching her hand and it felt really nice even though it was a major distraction. But her assisted throw was actually a good one, and knocked down all the pins! The imaginary announcer told her it was a great throw, so she thanked Brian and gave him a little hug. He was surprised and backed off a little when she let go.

They went through a couple of rounds of bowling, and even though he always won, she was getting better. She also thought she caught him looking at her out of the corner of his eye when she did a little wiggle to try to convince the ball to turn as it rolled. He was getting successively worse, so she tried doing other things to distract him.

She went over to sample the snacks when it was his turn. There was a big bowl of cheese puffs, and some chips and dip, but there was also a tray that probably was what the grownups were having in their party. There were some really delicious little meat pie things, some mini quesadillas, some stuffed mushrooms, and some kind of grilled chicken fingers on a stick. There were also some fancy “kid” foods like pizza rolls and pigs in blankets that the grownups probably didn’t have.

Stephanie tried a mushroom and the little yummy noise she made caused Brian to turn around and completely blow his throw and roll a gutter ball. She shrugged and said she was sorry, but it just tasted so good. He just sat there while she ate another one, and seemed to be watching her mouth.

They took a break from gaming to eat the hot treats before they got cold. Stephanie hadn’t put any of the little pie things on her paper plate, so after Brian tried one he insisted she have a taste. He made he open her mouth and he held one out for her to take a bite, and she almost kind of kissed his fingers; her lips totally touched him. She had to refresh her lip gloss after all that food, and she was sure she caught him peeking at her.

They next decided to play another sport. Stephanie wanted to try baseball, but it turned out to be too hard. She couldn’t swing the thing at the right time to hit the little ball. Brian quit out of the game and said that maybe tennis would be easier. This was cool in that it would pit them against each other doing the same thing at the same time.

Tennis had two of Stephanie on one side of the net and two of Brian on the other side, and whichever of her little people was closest to the ball would swing her racket when Stephanie waved the remote. It was really fun, and she quickly got the hang of it.

She was doing so well at it that while they were playing Brian commented, “You’re pretty good at this. I know you don’t have a Wii yet, but have you played real tennis before?”

“Nope. I think I’m just finding my groove.”

“That’s too bad. I bet you’d look really cute in one of those little white tennis dresses, especially with that little face you make when you’re concentrating.”

Stephanie scored a point against him while he was talking, and she stuck her tongue out at him to gloat while the screen was showing an instant replay.

He cutely answered, “Are you offering me a French kiss?”

She messed up and he quickly got a point. She was visibly flustered. “Why would a kiss be French?”

He pushed some button and paused the game. “That’s just what they call a kiss where you open your mouths and touch tongues instead of only kissing with the lips.” He quickly added, “I didn’t think you were really trying to kiss me; I was just teasing.”

“Um, ok.” Her brain started trying to imagine what touching someone else’s tongue would feel like. “Maybe we should get back to the game.”

“Alright. No more talking about kissing.” He un-paused the game and the little people started moving again.

“If we were going to talk about kissing, I’d have to tell you that my sister told me that it’s the tradition for couples to kiss at midnight on New Year’s Eve.”

He blew a return and scored a point for her. He paused it again. “Really? I don’t think I’d heard of that tradition. I don’t remember if I made it to midnight last year.”

“Well, if we did make it to midnight, would you want me to kiss you? A regular one, none of that French stuff.”

“Um, if that’s the tradition, I guess we’d have to. We wouldn’t want to get Baby New Year mad at us or something.”

“That sounds like a very smart decision.” Stephanie’s heart was beating in her ears, and her mind was doing a happy dance — he wanted to kiss her! She had gotten a boy to like her, despite her considerable handicap, which no one needed to be thinking about.

Brian’s mind must have been wandering a little, too. When he put the game back on, his little guy made a mistake so horrible, Stephanie won the whole match.

After the game, she needed to excuse herself to use the powder room. He had to go to, but he politely let her in first. She had to take a couple deep breaths before she was calm enough to pull down her pantyhose without tearing them. She was wound up now not with nerves but with excitement. Her first date was going really well!

Since playing the game required a lot of moving around, they were kind of worn out and didn’t want to play another one right away. Brian suggested they watch a movie. He’d gotten Ratatouille for Christmas and hadn’t watched it yet. It was about a rat, which kind of put Stephanie off, but he was a chef, which got her interested, so she said they could watch it until the rats got too icky for her. It was set in France, so she accused Brian of picking it to remind her of the kissing. He tried to say no, but he turned a little red. So maybe he was still thinking about kissing, too.

He put in the DVD and brought the bowl of cheese puffs over to the coffee table so they could munch while watching. Sitting where they could both reach the bowl had the side effect of bringing them very close together. There was a scene near the beginning that had a lot of creepy rats in it, and she just squinted her eyes and grabbed onto Brian’s arm. Somehow grabbing his arm changed into grabbing his hand, which soon became holding his hand. It felt really good, even if she did have to reach around and grab cheese puffs with her left hand. She compromised by grabbing them out of his right hand, which was closer than the bowl anyway.

It wasn’t a boring movie, but it must have gotten later than they realized. At some point she’d fallen asleep leaning up against his shoulder. They were awakened by Brian’s mom, who came in to let them know that it was fifteen minutes to midnight. She changed the channel on the TV to where it would be showing the big ball drop in New York City. Brian ran his fingers through his hair, and Stephanie went into the bathroom to freshen up and check her makeup. She made sure to have fresh lip gloss.

Brian’s mother came back down, walking kind of funny and with a goofy smile on her face. She brought them a pair of plastic champagne glasses with fizzy stuff in them. “Here, kids. You can toast in the New Year too, just like all the people upstairs. If anyone asks, it’s ginger ale.” She kissed the top of Brian’s head. “Happy New Year, Sweetie. I’ve got to get back up to your dad before Mrs. Dubois steals him away.”

Brian apologized. His mother was drunk very often; Stephanie was just seeing her at a bad time. Stephanie told him not to mind. They brought their fancy drinks back to the couch and watched the minutes tick away on the TV. Before long it went into a countdown. “Ten, Nine, Eight, Seven, Six, Five, Four, Three, Two, One, Happy New Year!”

They touched cups and said “Happy New Year” simultaneously with the crowd in New York. They drank their tiny drinks much too quickly — it wasn’t ginger ale, and then Stephanie turned to Brian and kissed him right on the lips. Some people on the screen were kissing, so it must have been a real tradition, but she didn’t know how long they held it because her eyes were closed. Fireworks were going off, but she wasn’t sure if that was on the TV or inside her head.

She released him when she had to inhale, and whispered “Happy New Year” to him again. Brian said “Happy New Year” back to her, but he had a weird kind of look on his face. He said that since they’d already fallen asleep once, maybe it was a good time to turn in. He didn’t quite stand up, but walked kind of crouched over to where he’d dropped her luggage, and brought them over to her. He said that they’d move the table out of the way, and just sleep right there on the soft carpet. His things were in the laundry room. She could change in the bathroom.

She took her backpack into the bathroom. She couldn’t reach her hand around to the back of her dress, so she came out to find Brian with a guilty look on his face, unrolling her sleeping back onto the floor. She was supposed to ask his mother, but if she really was drunk that might not be a good idea. She asked Brian if he could help unzip the back of her dress. He got over to her quicker than she would have expected, and said he’d be glad to help her out. She’d only expected him to unzip it enough so she could reach, but he undid the little hook and then pulled the zipper as far down as it would go, and seemed a little surprised to see that she was wearing a slip. She was kind of embarrassed and thanked him and got back behind a closed door as fast as she could.

She took off her dress, her slip, her shoes and her hose, but left her bra and panties on under her nightgown. They made her feel more like a real girl. She took off her necklace and bracelet and changed her earrings to her sleeper hoops. She washed her face and said goodbye to the pretty makeup. The barrettes came out and she brushed her hair back into its loose style. The girl in the mirror wasn’t quite as pretty anymore, but she did still look like a girl. Stephanie freshened her lip gloss, just in case.

Brian had changed into blue plain pajamas. He said her nightgown was really cute, and showed her where they’d be sleeping. He’d set up their two sleeping bags side by side, with throw pillows off the couch at their heads. Stephanie thought it would work out okay. She had to think about it for a few seconds to figure out how to properly get into a sleeping bag in a nightgown without the skirt riding up. Brian had the TV on just for the light, so when they were settled in he used the remote to turn it off, and the room went dark. There was a faint light coming from the stairs, just enough to make out shadows.

“Stephanie?” Brian whispered.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for coming to my party. There’s no one else I would rather have asked.”

She blushed, invisibly. “Thanks. I can’t think of a better way I’d have wanted to spend New Year’s.”

“Um, thanks for that kiss, too. It was nice.”

“You’re welcome. I also kind of liked it myself. You must have a lot of practice.”

“Actually, it was my real first kiss with a girl. Did I do okay?”

“I think so. It was my first kiss, too. Well, with someone I’m not related to.”

“I never would have guessed. Of course, I don’t have any other kisses to compare it to.”

“So is this your way of asking for a good night kiss?”

“It wasn’t, but it could be now. Would I get one if I did ask?”

“Maybe…”

“Well then, maybe I’m asking.”

Stephanie unzipped her sleeping bag enough to lean over and give him another kiss. There was no way the fireworks were on TV this time. Brian even reached up and touched her face before she went back over to her own side.

“Mmm. You taste like strawberries. Delicious!”

“Thanks, I guess. How did that kiss compare?”

“Pretty good. I don’t really have that many to go by, though.”

“Brian? I was wondering…”

“What about?”

“Do you think maybe you’d want to try that French kiss thing, you know, just to see what it’s like?”

As an answer, Brian leaned up out of his sleeping bag and reached over to her. When he found her face he brought his mouth onto hers, starting as almost a regular kiss and then opening his mouth to let his tongue lick her lips. She responded by opening her mouth, and his tongue moved in. She greeted it with her own, and was overwhelmed by the sensations as they licked against one another. She put her arms up around him to keep him from rolling back over too quickly.

When he did go back, she sighed an exhausted “Wow.”

He agreed. “Those French really know their stuff. After fries and kissing, they really didn’t need to invent anything else.”

She was torn between wanting some more kissing and really wanting to sleep. She told him that maybe they could do some more experiments in the morning, and he seemed pretty agreeable to that. He said he hoped to dream about strawberries.

Stephanie’s Deal by Jennifer Brock Eleven-year-old Steven Brooks had been punished for violating his parents’ trust and looking at his presents by agreeing to spend his entire Christmas vacation pretending to be a girl. Stephanie just had her first date with a boy on New Year’s Eve, including her first kiss, and spent the night. It’s now a new year and only one day before Steven has to go back to school, and then the deal is over and he’ll get his Nintendo Wii. Or will he?

Episode 9

Brian was still asleep when Stephanie woke up, she watched him sleep for a while, and then got up to use the bathroom and get dressed. Her special tape had broken in her sleep, so she needed to change it. She put on her fresh bra and panties and put her slip back on from the day before, then dressed in the blouse and jumper her mom had picked for her to wear. She did like the knee socks. They were a whole lot less hassle than pantyhose. She brushed her hair out and put on her headband, then changed her earrings into stars and put on the coordinating pieces. Her makeup for the day was simple brown mascara and Brian’s favorite strawberry lip gloss.

Brian had awakened while she was getting ready. He was still in his pajamas, but he’d added a robe over them. He told her she looked pretty, better than before in a way because the previous night she looked too grown up and out of his league. He realized he wasn’t saying what he meant, and muttered an apology. He’d rolled up her sleeping bag for her while she was dressing and had put the room back in order. He said his folks were still sleeping. If she wanted breakfast, he could make her some, as long as she liked cereal. That was fine with her, so they went up to the kitchen for a bowl of Froot Loops each.

Over breakfast, Brian talked about what a shame it was that it was her last day of existence as a girl. He would have liked to have her around again. She told him about her role in Grace and Matt’s wedding, and how that meant she’d still be in dresses every so often through June. Brian brightened up at that, and asked if that meant maybe she’d be available for other things in the future. She said she’d probably be willing, but he’d have to ask about specific things. He said he’d let her know, and made sure he had the right phone number.

The kitchen was kind of a mess, so Stephanie felt like being a good guest and helping out. There was a stack of dirty dishes in the sink, so she took her bracelet off, rolled up her sleeves, and got to work. She asked Brian to go fetch the serving dishes from their snacks downstairs, and to check the living room for any stray dishes. She put what fit into the dishwasher and set aside the larger pieces to be hand-washed.

Brian showed her where they kept the soap, and she told him to get a towel; he’d be drying as she washed. He whined that she could just leave the wet dishes in the rack, but she wasn’t sure how delicate some of the serving trays were. She reached out and touched his face and turned it towards hers. With her mouth inches from his, she whispered, “Do this for me and you’ll be rewarded.”

His eyes grew wide, and then he stepped up really close to the counter and agreed to pitch in with the dishes. Brian’s mother’s rubber gloves were a little big on Stephanie’s hands, but she didn’t want to ruin her manicure so she wore them anyway. It was a pity she didn’t see an apron anywhere, but her jumper was corduroy and could probably handle a few drops of water. It kind of looked like an apron anyway.

She only had three big bowls left when Brian’s mother wandered into the kitchen, looking like she had the flu. She’d tied her robe kind of lopsided, and her pretty nightgown was showing. She had a really decent figure even though she was someone’s mom. She rubbed her forehead and muttered, “Oh hey, kids. Morning. Honey, stay out of your room for a while. Uncle Max had to sleep over, and we put him in your bed.” She had a kind of confused look on her face.

Stephanie smiled. “I’m sorry if the noise of the dishwasher had disturbed you; I didn’t realize it would be so loud. Brian was an excellent host and served his guest a satisfying breakfast, so you don’t need to worry about that. I guessed you might be like my folks in the morning, so I started a pot of coffee brewing.” She pointed over at the coffee maker,

Mrs. Somers poured a cup of coffee and slumped into a chair. “Thank you, but Brian didn’t need to make you do dishes.”

“He didn’t. This was all my idea. I didn’t want to be an ungracious houseguest.”

As she sipped, she said “You make a mean cup of coffee. Brian, this girl’s a keeper. Don’t let her get away.” Her brain started waking up. “But, hang on! You’re not really a girl, are you? It’s so easy to forget. You look too cute not to be a girl. Brian, this girl/boy/whatever person-thing is a keeper.”

Stephanie didn’t like being reminded that she was a phony, so she hurried up and finished the dishes. They had about an hour to kill before Stephanie’s sister Michelle would be coming to drive her home, so she suggested to Brian that they go back downstairs and play some videogames until she got there. He was more than eager to leave.

She tried to figure out how to turn the game on, and he showed her what buttons to push on which remotes. He leaned in close to her and whispered, “What about my reward?”

She pretended not to know what he was talking about, and fluttered her eyelashes innocently, “I don’t understand what you mean.”

“You promised me a reward if I helped with the dishes.” He leaned his face toward hers.

“Oh, that!” She teasingly turned her head to the side, away from his. “I don’t think I said I’d give you a reward. I believe what I said was that you would be rewarded.” She realized he’d gotten his arms around her. She couldn’t wiggle away. “The satisfaction of a job well done is always a rewarding experience.” She tried to keep a straight face, but it was tough.

“You sneaky girl! Already using your feminine wiles on me!” His hands were around her waist, keeping her within reach, but he didn’t have her so tightly that she couldn’t break away if she tried. He was only playing. “Maybe I should punish you for tricking me.”

Stephanie leaned forward, catching him by surprise. She planted a tender kiss on his lips. Remembering their “experiment” the night before, she opened her mouth a little and brushed his lips with her tongue. That was all the encouragement he needed. His lips parted, and soon her tongue found a playmate. She threw her arms around him and held on, letting her fingers slightly knead his back and shoulders. His hands started gently stroking her, and maybe one of them was slowly drifting down her back. But then she noticed something, and she suddenly broke the kiss and backed away from him.

Brian was confused. “Why did you stop? Is something the matter? Did you see my Mom on the stairs or something?”

“Your robe is kind of thin, and I think you might have forgotten to fasten your pajamas. You were sort of poking me.” She pointed at the tent in the front of his robe.

He looked down and turned beet red, then ran into the bathroom. “Ohmygod! I’m so sorry!”

Stephanie had to sit down on the couch to settle her nerves. Kissing Brian had made his penis want to have sex with her. That made the whole dating game become seriously real. Steven had learned about sex in school, but he’d never actually thought about doing it with someone. He’d always figured he’d probably grow up and marry some girl and make kids with her, but that’s just because that’s what you’re supposed to do.

Stephanie didn’t know if she wanted sex with Brian or any boy, but she was sure that she liked kissing him. She also kind of liked it that he wanted her, or that at least part of him did. It was like he was saying she was definitely, positively 100% girl. But in reality, she actually wasn’t, which would make that whole sex thing pretty difficult, and probably disappoint his boy parts when they found out she didn’t have any proper girl parts for them to try to make a baby with.

He sure was taking long in the bathroom. How long did it take to make sure your pajamas are fastened properly, anyway? Stephanie killed time by fetching her purse to check her makeup. Her tube of lip gloss would not last much longer.

Brian eventually came out, and still looked really embarrassed. “I’m sorry about, you know. I’d go get dressed, but my parents’ drunk friend is in my room. Maybe we should just stay separated until you have to go.”

Stephanie didn’t like that plan. She was hoping for another kiss or two. She pointed at the door. “Have you got anything in the laundry room you could wear?”

He shrugged. “Only what I had on yesterday, and I don’t know how I’d explain it to my mother that I wanted to get dressed up again.”

She chewed on her lower lip while thinking. “Um, ok. So how about you go in there and put on yesterday’s underpants under your pajamas. Maybe that would hold things in better?”

Brian took her suggestion. When he came back out, it looked like everything down there was under control. But in the interest of science, Stephanie gave him a deep, wet kiss and then looked down - nothing had popped out. The experiment was a success!

Brian was kind of nervous, and pointed out that his mother might be listening in, so they probably ought to start playing the game. Stephanie agreed to play tennis again, but compromised by saying that whenever someone scored a point, the loser would have to give the winner a kiss. Brian couldn’t bring himself to turn down that arrangement, so he accepted.

They were on the fourth game of a five-game match when the doorbell rang, and Brian’s mother called down stairs to let them know Stephanie’s sister was here to take her home. She got her coat, Brian carried her bags, and they went up.

Michelle smiled and took Stephanie’s luggage from Brian. “Hey, Little Sis! Give your boyfriend a goodbye kiss and we’ll be on our way!”

Stephanie gave Brian a little hug and a quick kiss on the lips (keeping her mouth closed) and then thanked him and his mother for having her over. They walked out to Michelle’s car and she threw the baggage in the trunk then opened the door for Stephanie to get in.

As they pulled away, Michelle said, “I was just teasing you about the goodbye kiss but you went through with it! I’m impressed.”

Stephanie shrugged. “It was no big deal. It’s not like it was our first kiss or anything.” She realized too late that she might have wanted to think about it before telling her sister everything. “I mean, you told me I’d have to give him a kiss at midnight last night, so I did.”

“You kissed him? Did you like it? He was kind of blushing a little back there.”

Stephanie checked the vanity mirror and touched up her lipgloss, trying to act cool. “I think so. There’s nothing wrong with that, is there? I mean, I’m a girl and girls like to kiss boys, so why shouldn’t I?”

Michelle chewed on her lower lip nervously. “Um, it sounds like you’ve got a lot to think about. You know, if you ever get confused or something and need to talk about it, you can call me any time. I’ll always love you no matter what, and won’t ever judge you.”

“So, can I ask you a question about dating?”

“Sure, kiddo. What do you want to know?”

“Is it slutty to French kiss a boy on the first date?”

Michelle had to pull over and stop the car. “Whoa. Well, first of all, where’d you get a word like that? It’s sexist and rude.”

“There’s this kid at school, Tommy Peters. He knows stuff. He was saying that Susie Dawson was a slut because she was French kissing Mike Webster behind the shed, but I didn’t know what that meant until yesterday, because I didn’t want to ask Tommy and look stupid.”

“Okay. So Tommy is a dumb-ass. Stop listening to him. And no, there’s nothing wrong if you were Frenching Brian. If a girl wants to let her guy get to first base on the first date, that’s perfectly reasonable. Was he a good kisser?”

“I guess so. I don’t really know what to compare it to. I liked it. Why do you call it first base?”

“Because boys are stupid and competitive, and like to brag about how far they get with girls, so some guy like in the fifties invented this code that they all use and we’re not supposed to know what it means, but everyone knows so it’s not much of a code. First base is a good wet kiss. Second base is when he gets his hand in your bra, but you probably don’t need to worry about that; all you’ve got in there is padding. Third base he gets into your panties, and a home run is actual sex. Boys are stupid.”

“Okay, since I haven’t got the stuff for any of the other bases, I guess I can’t go any further anyway. No boy’s going to stick his pee-pee in my hoo-hoo because I don’t have one.”

Michelle shook her head. “The sex ed. class in your school is so broken. Sweetie, if you still have to refer to your genitals in baby talk, you’re not ready for sex, but when the time is right, you and your boyfriend will be able to do plenty of things for one another’s pleasure. Gay people can and do have sex with each other. Just make sure you’re safe.”

Stephanie was getting a little upset. “I’m not gay.”

“Honey, you just told me you liked kissing a boy.”

“Yes, but I’m a girl right now. It’s not gay for girls to kiss boys.”

“Um, okay. I won’t push you about it now. But whenever you do want to talk about it, I’m here for you.” She leaned over and gave her little sister a hug.

“Thanks. Tomorrow I get to be a boy again and go back to school, and I can just forget about all this kissing nonsense.”

“Maybe not. You haven’t seen the news this morning?”

“No, Brian’s parents were sleeping late today. What’s that got to do with me forgetting kissing?”

“You probably don’t have school tomorrow.”

“Why not?”

“There was an accident. It’s all over the news - they’ll probably still be showing it when we get home. There’s about six different people arguing over whose fault it was, but somehow last night an administrator at Roosevelt Middle School noticed that there was money left in the 2007 budget, and called for a fuel oil delivery. The truck driver got there late, and he was the guy stuck working on New Year’s Eve, so he probably had the least seniority so didn’t know what to do when things went wrong. It appears that he hit an ice patch at the top end of the driveway and turned the wrong way and skidded down the hill. The truck slammed into the building on the first floor of the north wing, you know where the English classrooms are?”

“Yeah. Is the guy okay?”

“He was still in the hospital last I heard. Anyway, when the truck hit the building, the tank ripped open, and oil started pouring into the school. And either the heat from the engine or a broken wire or something provided enough heat to set it on fire. So there’s this big hole in the building, burning oil is pouring in, and then the sprinklers come on. Do you know what happens to burning oil when you pour water on it? It flows downhill faster, because now it’s floating.”

“Wow.”

“The oil pretty much settled in the cafeteria, and burned a hell of a mess in there before the fire department showed up. The classrooms where the sprinklers had gone off were all covered in ice. The TV guys went in there; it looks kind of pretty. The top two floors over where the truck went in were kind of sagging the last they showed them, so the school committee is having an emergency meeting right now to figure out what to do.”

“Really? Or are you just trying to trick me?”

“It’s real. I’d take you over there to see it in person, but I tried on my way to get you and the cops are keeping people away. I’m sure it will still be on the news when we get home.”

When they got home, Mom and Dad had been enjoying having the house to themselves, and hadn’t been watching the news either. Dad had a surprise for Stephanie; he’d hooked up Steven’s new Wii so they could play with it an extra day early. He’d already checked out his new golf game, and it worked great! He thanked her again for it. She gave her dad a hug, but was really more interested in the news.

Michelle tuned to the station she’d been watching, and sure enough it was still showing coverage of the Middle School disaster. The reporter outside the school committee meeting said that so far all that was clear was that the school would not be open for the next two days, but anything after that was still to be determined.

Stephanie went up to her room and checked her copy of the contract where she’d agreed to be Stephanie for eleven days. But that’s not what it said. Instead of a calendar date, it said that Steven had to dress and act as a girl until the day he went back to school. Part of her was mad at how unfair it seemed, part of Steven wanted to try to weasel out of the deal, but part of Stephanie was happy to be a girl for another couple of days. At least it would make going to dance class easier.

She brought the paper and went downstairs to tell her family that she understood that the point of her punishment was to teach her to be responsible and trustworthy, and that it was important to be true to your word and keep your promises. Since the deal that they all agreed to said it would last until school started again, she let them know that she would honor the agreement and continue to be Stephanie until the school reopened.

Dad looked kind of proud that she was showing integrity, but Mom seemed a little disappointed, like maybe Steven should have waited until they asked him to continue the deal. Michelle winked knowingly at her little sister, probably thinking that she just wanted more time to kiss boys.

Stephanie went back to her room to put her paper away, and to tell her doll how her date went. She wondered if dancing with Grace’s brother Christopher would be as fun as kissing Brian. She’d know soon enough.

Stephanie’s Deal by Jennifer Brock This was supposed to be the day that eleven-year-old Steven Brooks would be returning from Christmas vacation and going back to his sixth grade class at Roosevelt Middle School. However, there was an accident and the school isn’t open. The deal he’d made with his parents (as punishment for sneaking a peek at his presents) said that he’d be dressing and acting as a girl until school started up again. So, Stephanie is still here. But it’s convenient that she is since tonight is her first ballroom dancing class that she has to go to because she agreed to be a junior bridesmaid in her cousin’s wedding.

Episode 10

The school fire was still all over the news the next day. The school committee had sent some local contractors over to inspect the damage, and held meetings for most of the morning to figure out what they’d do about it. The head of the committee gave a press conference at noon.

The contractors said they’d need three weeks to get the building back to usable condition, so the committee just decided to push the whole semester forward three weeks. They’d rescheduled classes to start up on January 22, the day after Martin Luther King Day. And instead of June 11, the last day of school would be July 2.

Stephanie took the news okay at first. Three more weeks as a girl wouldn’t be too hard. She could manage it. But then she started looking at the calendar. She was still going to be a girl on her twelfth birthday! She asked her mom if maybe Steven could get a day off from the punishment for his birthday. But Mom said that the point of this exercise was to teach Steven to honor agreements, and there was nothing in the contract about any kind of days off.

It also started Mom thinking about what kind of birthday party to throw for a twelve-year-old girl. She could invite the girls from Stephanie’s Sunday-School class, since they already knew her secret. It would be fun! Stephanie wasn’t too sure, but she just nodded anyway since Mom seemed so into it.

The other thing the calendar showed was that she’d still be in school the week of Grace and Matt’s wedding. So there would be a tiny window between the end of school on Friday and the wedding on Saturday where she could get her hair and nails and stuff done up all pretty. (And sadly she’d have to get rid of all the prettiness before school again on Monday.) That might be tricky, but they had a few months to solve that problem.

She was rummaging through her closet to pick out an outfit to wear to dance class, and wondering if her dance partner, Grace’s brother Christopher, would be cute. She narrowed it down to two dresses, and then brought them over to her sister’s room for an opinion. “Which of these would be best for dancing in?”

Michelle looked up at the two dresses her little sister was holding. “That red velvet one is a little too fancy for taking a class. I’d go with the green. It’s pretty enough so if everyone else is dressy you’ll fit in, but you can make it look a little more casual by layering something like a sweater over it.”

“Which of my shoes should I go with? I don’t know what would work.”

“Real ballroom dancers like on that show always wear heels, not flats. So maybe those pageant shoes you wore to the tea party, I guess. But see-through shoes is also a little too much for a class. Your black patents have a little heel, so you could try them, but I’m not sure.” Michelle twisted her mouth up and scratched her head. “Oh, wait! There’s your new navy pumps. Put both of those back, and we’ll go through your closet and put together an outfit that would work with them.”

The two sisters went through Stephanie’s wardrobe and ended up putting her in a sleeveless pink dress, which Michelle accented with a navy blue scarf of her own tied around her waist like a belt, and that was enough to make the outfit work with her navy shoes and purse. The pink dress also let her wear the pieces of pink jewelry that her aunt had made for her, so maybe her cousins would tell their mother she liked them. She had a pink cardigan sweater in case it was cold in the dance studio. Michelle tried to get her to wear her pink plastic headband too, but Stephanie thought her hair looked better loose.

She took it all off and changed back into her simple top and skirt to help her mother with dinner. It was meat loaf and mashed potatoes. Stephanie got to knead the meat together and get her hands all messy, but after cleaning them off she got to mash the potatoes all by herself. She was really enjoying being useful in the kitchen, and it seemed like Mom appreciated having an assistant.

The meal was scrumptious, but Stephanie didn’t eat much. She was too nervous about the dancing thing, and was a little worried that the onion soup mix in the meatloaf would make her gassy. She really wanted to make a good impression in front of Grace’s brother.

Michelle did what she could to try to calm her down while she was waiting after dinner, but it didn’t help much. When the doorbell rang, she jumped up and nearly had a panic attack. It was their cousin Dan at the door. He was slouching there in jeans, sneakers and a t-shirt, which made Stephanie wonder if she was over-dressed. “Hey, Steph. You ready to go?”

She gave her big sister a hug, grabbed her coat, and followed Danny out to the car where Matt was waiting. Dan claimed the front seat and she got in the back. It was just the three of them in the car. “Grace didn’t come with you guys?”

Matt tilted his head a little to reply. “She had to get Chris, so they’re meeting us there. He had some kind of thing at school. He goes to Lawnbrook, so they may be late.” All Stephanie knew about Lawnbrook was that it was a stuffy private school.

The dance studio was in a big brick building that looked like it might have been a factory once. Matt looked at the other cars in the parking lot and said that it looked like everyone but Grace was there already. Dan was just as lost as she was, but Matt explained that he’d been there before when Grace’s mother was scheduling the classes. He showed Stephanie and Dan where the entrance door was, and even held it open for her.

There was a little reception area with a couple of restroom doors and a girl behind a desk. . They gave their names to the receptionist, and she said the class would be in Room B, and she pointed down a hallway behind her.

Room B was a big room, maybe thirty feet square with a twelve-foot ceiling, that looked even huger because three walls were covered in mirrors. There was a row of pegs on the back wall where they could hang up their coats. Stephanie felt relieved to see that Matt had on a tie under his jacket; she wasn’t the only one dressed up. She was very conscious of the click of her heels on the hardwood floors as Matt led her over to where the others were standing around, and introduced her to everyone.

He brought her first to a brunette who was around Michelle’s height, but more sturdily-built. She wasn’t really heavy, just thicker, like she was stronger or something. She was wearing a gray long-sleeved t-shirt with a blue short-sleeved t-shirt over it that had a weird design on it. She had tan cargo pants on and a pair of leather sneakers. She looked pretty cool. There were like four earrings in each of her ears.

Matt said, “This is Grace’s best friend Shelby. She’s the head bridesmaid, so that would make her your boss. Do whatever she says. Shel, this is my cousin Stephanie. Try not to abuse your power over her too much.”

Stephanie waved. “Hi. So, you’re head bridesmaid. Is that like the Maid of Honor?”

Shelby rolled her eyes. “Don’t get me started on that. Grace and her mother are arguing about it. I’m sure Joan of Bark will probably get her way, but for now the rest of us are sticking out of it.”

“What’s the problem?”

“Grace says since I’m not married I should be her Maid of Honor, but her mom says that since I have a kid I should be a Matron of Honor. Personally, I don’t feel very matronly but I really don’t care what they call me. Grace is just real stubborn about stuff sometimes, just like her mom.” Looking at Matt, she added, “You know you’re doomed, right?”

Stephanie’s eyes widened. “You have a kid? You don’t look old enough to be someone’s mother.”

“That’s sweet, but you know if you’re not careful you could end up as someone’s mother. Never trust a boy who keeps a blanket in his car. Anyway, you’ll be meeting Tara at some point. She’s going to be Grace’s Flower Girl. She’s six and very excited. I may put you in charge of wrangling her on The Big Day, if you don’t mind.”

“Ok.” It was comforting that Shelby didn’t know that Stephanie couldn’t ever be someone’s mother. Grace hadn’t even shared her secret with her closest friend. Stephanie’s mind then wandered off, thinking about whether she’d want to make a baby if she did have the right parts.

There were three other bridesmaids in the class. Andrea was a petite redhead who probably worked retail, judging by her outfit of a bright red polo shirt and a pair of khakis. Vicki was a tall who was almost as pretty as Grace. She was dressed like a secretary or something, blonde with her long hair twisted up in a bun and wearing a knee-length gray skirt and a pale blue blouse. Rebecca had dark brown hair and soft eyes that she hid behind granny glasses. She was in a beige sweater dress with black leggings underneath.

There was a fourth bridesmaid, Megan, who had to work nights and wouldn’t be coming to class with the rest. But it was just as well, since she’d be paired with Matt’s brother Jack at the wedding and he lived in California. His family would be coming out the week before the wedding, in time for the wedding rehearsal, and to get a refresher course in ballroom dancing. He’d had to learn for his own wedding. His little boy Jordan would be serving as Ring Bearer.

For the most part, the boys looked more uncomfortable than the girls. Ryan, Matt’s best man, had short curly red hair and a lot of freckles. He was dressed in a blue striped button-down shirt and a black pair of pants. He kept asking people what they were supposed to be doing, and looking around the room for the instructor.

A tall, lanky guy who Matt called “Steeples” introduced himself as Evan. He had short black hair, beard stubble on his tan face, and big brown eyes with amazing lashes. The other usher Vince was around Matt’s height and had wavy brown hair and an olive complexion. He wore a suit, but you could tell he had a muscular body underneath.

The instructor came into the room. He was an older guy, with slicked back black hair. He wore a loose shirt but tight-ish pants, and pointy little shoes. He told everyone to pair up, and Matt had to tell him that they couldn’t start the class yet; everyone wasn’t there. The Maestro (as he referred to himself) was very disappointed that all the students hadn’t arrived on time, and he originally wanted to just start without them. But when Matt explained that the class was for a wedding party and the missing people were the bride and her brother, he agreed to wait. He left the room and said he’d be back in five minutes and they would start, whether the bride had decided to arrive or not.

Grace and Christopher showed up with only two minutes left. Grace’s brother had her same blond hair, but his was much shorter, and styled with a little wave and a part on the side. He was still wearing what looked like a school uniform, blue slacks and a blue blazer over a red sweater. His blue eyes had a mischievous twinkle, and he had very full lips that would probably be fun to kiss. Grace herself was in a cute casual dress, a light floral fabric that showed off her figure without being too tight and clingy. Her shoes were black ballet flats, which seemed appropriate for dancing in.

After they hung up their coats, Grace went over and kissed Matt on the cheek, and then introduced Christopher to Stephanie.

He was not very impressed. “This is my dance partner? She’s like a little kid!” He sneered at Grace while pointing at Stephanie. “She’s hardly much older than your flower girl! Is this really the best you could come up with? I mean, just look at her. She doesn’t even have any tits!” He was still pointing.

Stephanie couldn’t take it any more and ran out of the room. She couldn’t think of anywhere else to go, so she went to hide in the Ladies’. Maybe she could stay there until it was time to go home. She leaned on the sink and looked at the pathetic girl in the mirror. She was angry at Christopher, but he was right. She really was younger than him, and she even had less of a bustline than her padded bra hinted at. She was humiliated, and didn’t even bother trying to stop the tears from falling.

Grace and Shelby and the girls quickly showed up in the restroom with her. Grace was very apologetic. “Oh, Stephanie! I’m so sorry we didn’t warn you that my brother is an ass! He was supposed to be on his best behavior tonight, but he had some kind of win at a debate club thing earlier and it left him cocky and full of himself. What he said was rude and uncalled for, and I’m ashamed to be related to him.”

Stephanie sniffled. “But it’s true! I’m a flat-chested little kid crying like a little baby.”

Grace put her arms around Stephanie and held her close. “No, that’s not true at all. Your style and manners show me that you are not a little kid, but a beautiful young woman, and I am honored to have you as one of my bridesmaids.”

Shelby chimed in. “And girls mature faster than boys, anyway. So you’re at least the same age as Chrissy, maybe even older than him, emotionally.” Stephanie knew it couldn’t possibly be true, but it was nice that she thought that way.

Grace let her go and backed up, but kept a hand on her arm. “And don’t worry about your development. When we go for your fitting, we can have them put a little padding up top, if it bothers you too much.” She either forgot who Stephanie really was, or she was conscious of the other girls listening because she added, “A lot of girls are late bloomers; I’m sure you’ll fill out when your body is ready. Mine didn’t come in until I was thirteen, and look at them now!” She cupped her impressive breasts in her hands and gave them a little shake.

Stephanie could help but giggle. She gave Grace a little hug and said, “I hope you and Matt are planning to have kids. You’ll make a great mom some day!”

Grace wept a little herself. “I think that’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me. Now let’s see about cleaning you up and then we’ll go out there and you’ll show that little jerk that you can be the bigger person.”

They looked in the mirror. Stephanie’s makeup could use a touchup, and her hair was a mess. At least her mascara was waterproof. Shelby left and came back with Stephanie’s purse, and then the whole team worked on getting her back in order. Stephanie was a little worried that they’d be late for class, but Shelby assured her that it would be kind of tough for The Maestro to teach the men how to dance without the women, and they were all united on refusing to go back until everyone was ready.

It was really nice that all these girls she’d just met were sticking up for Stephanie. She really felt like a part of their group. Steven had never really felt included in anything before. Stephanie wondered if girls were just better at banding together.

The six girls left the Ladies’ room as one, and did a sort of “girl power” strut back into the studio. The boys were all standing in a line in the middle of the room, spaced about three feet apart.

The Maestro was there, and he looked irritated. “Finally the ladies have arrived. Please form a line facing your partners starting here.” He pointed at a spot on the floor five feet in front of Matt.

Stephanie went to take her spot opposite Christopher. Grace had to tell the other bridesmaids who they were partnered with. They were kind of organized by height. Andrea was with Dan, Vicki was with Evan, and Rebecca with Vince.

Once the girls were in line, The Maestro got everyone’s attention. “Now before we begin, I understand there was an exchange of words earlier. It has been called to my attention that this ungrateful young man was very rude to his dance partner.” He pointed over at Christopher. “You need to make a sincere apology to her right now. If a lady does not trust her gentleman, she cannot dance with him correctly. The dance requires two people acting in harmony, so you must eliminate this disharmony before it grows. We will wait.” He stared at Christopher.

Stephanie was feeling very self-conscious, but she looked across and saw Dan smile at her and then glare at her partner. Christopher closed the distance to Stephanie and mumbled something. The Maestro told him to repeat loudly enough for everyone to hear. Christopher cleared his throat and said, “I’m sorry for upsetting you.”

Stephanie thought that was a lame apology, and knew that Steven could have done a much better job faking sincerity. But in the interest of proving herself the better person she replied, “I accept your apology. We don’t want anything to spoil the mood at Grace and Matt’s wedding, so I am willing to set aside our differences as long as you are.” Christopher nodded and went back to his position.

The Maestro looked the line of girls over like an army drill sergeant inspecting his troops. He was shaking his head. “Many of you do not seem to be dressed appropriately for the dance floor. While you were indisposed, I told the gentlemen what proper dress means, and the violators promised to be appropriately attired next time.” He stared at Dan.

“Now, Ladies, I’m not asking you to be in ball gowns, but you do need to wear something that will move as a ball gown moves, so I want to see you in a skirt or dress that doesn’t grip your legs too tightly. And most importantly, I know you don’t want to hear this, but you need to wear heels. The dance steps would feel completely different on your feet if you tried to learn in flat shoes and then went to dance for real in high heels.”

The Maestro hated Shelby’s and Andrea’s outfits because they wore pants. Vicki almost passed, but he thought her skirt was too tight for her legs to move freely. He didn’t like Rebecca’s hemline and commented, “We will be learning ballroom dancing, not pole dancing.”

He liked Grace’s dress but vetoed her shoes. She tried to complain that she might end up with flats under her wedding dress, so it would be the same kind of shoe she was learning in. The Maestro countered by saying that she wasn’t learning to dance at her wedding; she was learning to dance for life, and if her husband was the kind of man who wouldn’t take her dancing after the wedding, she should call it off. If she learned in heels, she’d be able to dance in flats, but it didn’t work the other way.

When he got to Stephanie, he smiled. “You, my dear sweet Princessa, are dressed to dance. I applaud your sense of fashion.” She thanked him and smiled back.

After that, the class itself was almost anticlimactic. They started out simply walking back and forth, the ladies going backward while the men went forward, and then vice versa. The focus was all about using the correct foot at any time. When everybody had it down and was moving in step, The Maestro clicked a remote and started music playing. They still were only walking, but they had to do it to the beat.

The lesson then added a step to the side and back, so that everyone was walking in a square. And when they got that down, finally they were touching their partners, but it was palm to palm with their arms out in front of them. They ended the class with the boys finally holding the girls closer, holding their arms in a special pose.

Stephanie still thought Christopher was kind of creepy, and it felt a little icky having him touch her. She was nervous, but The Maestro picked on just about everyone for standing too stiffly, so she wasn’t alone.

When the class was finally over, her legs were pretty tired. She got her coat and purse and waited for her cousins. Matt needed a couple minutes to give his sweetie a proper goodbye.

In the car on the way home, Dan tried to reassure Stephanie. “Don’t you worry about Grace’s brother saying crap about you again. I set him straight.”

Matt nearly had an accident, slamming on the brakes to yell at his brother. “What did you do?”

“Chillax, bro. I just told him that I didn’t like that he made my cousin cry. And he may be older than her, but I’m older than him, and I have forty pounds and nine inches on him, and unlike some people I’m not trying to marry his sister, so he’s got no leverage on me. I think he got the message.”

Stephanie was glad her cousins were supporting her, but he mainly just reminded her about how mad she was at Christopher. It really bothered her that he picked on her lack of a chest, because she knew that was one of her shortcomings in trying to look like a girl.

When she got home her folks wanted to know how the class went, and she truthfully told them that her legs and feet were just tired and sore, and she just wanted to change her clothes and go to bed. Mom had a better suggestion, and she ran a nice hot bubble bath for Stephanie to soak her tired muscles in before putting on her nightgown.

The bath felt really nice, and Stephanie had some fun playing with the bubbles. She was still thinking about Christopher, and she molded a pair of breasts on her chest out of foam, bigger even than Grace’s. She imagined what Christopher would say if she showed up at the wedding sporting a big pair of boobs. He’d be speechless — that would really put him in his place!

It was too bad that it was only a fantasy — or was it? She remembered how at the tea party a week before that there were ways that drugs and doctors could reshape boy bodies into girl bodies. Maybe there was a way she could order some pills or something to make her boobs grow.

That would show him! He couldn’t call her a little kid if she had grownup breasts.
She’d grow herself a couple of boobs and rub his face in them! Wait, that came out wrong.

She’d whipped herself up into enough of a frenzy that as soon as she dried off and put on her nightgown and a clean pair of panties to sleep in and threw on her robe and slippers, she crept down to the living room to check the internet for ways to grow breasts.

She logged into her mother’s account and turned off the program that tracked what websites she visited, and then logged into her own account. A web search on “boys growing breasts” led to an article about a study that linked use of products containing lavender and tea tree oil to breast growth in prepubescent boys. And the best part of the story was that it said that as soon as they stopped using the products and regular male puberty hit, the abnormal breast growth went away.

So if Stephanie got some products with those oils and used enough of them, she could get boobs by the wedding, and then stop using the stuff when she was ready to go back to being Steven and they’d disappear.

She did some more searching to see where she could get tea tree and lavender oil, and found out that they actually sold the pure oils at amazon.com, so she could use the gift card her grandmother had given her for Christmas. And with pure oils instead of just products containing the oils, she figured it would have a stronger effect.

Just in case Mom noticed a package showing up but couldn’t figure out when it was ordered, she turned the tracking software back on, and then went to amazon and placed her order. Even with express shipping she had enough money on her card. She’d still have to wait a few days, though.

She crept back up to bed to dream about getting even with Christopher. She was almost too excited to fall asleep.

Stephanie’s Deal by Jennifer Brock Eighteen days ago, Steven Brooks violated his parents’ trust and snuck a peek at his Christmas presents. Instead of having his new Nintendo Wii taken away, he made a deal with his parents to dress and live as a well-mannered girl until school started up again. Due to a problem at school, Steven will have to be Stephanie for twenty more days. Last episode, Stephanie had a horrible introduction to the boy she’ll be dancing with at her cousin’s wedding, so she decided to try to grow breasts to get back at him. In this episode, some impracticalities of Stephanie's wardrobe are corrected, winter weather comes to town, and some social plans are made.

Episode 11

When Stephanie had come home from her ballroom dance class, she’d wanted to tell her big sister Michelle all about it. But she wasn’t home. Michelle had spent the night at her friend Molly’s, so Stephanie wasn’t been able to tell her about her adventure at ballroom dance class until lunchtime the next day.

As soon as her sister got home, Stephanie gave her a big hug and apologized for anything Michelle’s bratty little brother might have ever done to her. Stephanie had met the all-time champ of bratty little brothers, and regretted ever having anything remotely in common with him. Michelle wanted all the details, and Stephanie became very teary-eyed as she described all the cruel things her dance partner Christopher had said to her.

Michelle could hardly believe what she was hearing. Was Grace’s brother really that rude? She held Stephanie close and assured her that her own little brother Steven was never that much of a pain. She even added that she’d miss seeing her little brother, since it didn’t look like he’d be back before she had to go. She’d be driving back to college in a little over a week, but Steven’s school wouldn’t be open again for two and a half weeks. It was also a shame that she wouldn’t be around for Stephanie’s birthday, since it might be the only time her little sister would be celebrating one.

Steven had never really been close to his sister. Stephanie on the other hand felt very close to Michelle and could tell that she sincerely loved her. The house would definitely be a lot emptier when she left.

The sisters went into the living room to try to figure out what they wanted to do with the rest of the day. Mom was watching the afternoon news and shushed them. The Channel 8 weather lady said that a huge storm was on the way, expecting to dump 3-6 inches of snow late Friday morning.

Michelle groaned that it meant she’d be busy shoveling the next day. Stephanie offered to help out, but realized there was a problem. “Mom, would it be okay if I got some of my boy clothes out from storage?”

“Why, Honey? Are you trying to back out of your deal?”

“All I have to wear are skirts and dresses, but I really can’t wear them if I want to help Dad and Michelle with the shoveling. I thought maybe I could get a pair of my jeans, and some work boots, just for doing work like digging snow or maybe even when I help you with the house cleaning. Girls wear jeans, so I could still be a girl, just borrowing some clothes from boy-me.”

“I don’t know. That seems like a slippery slope. I think we need to keep your boy clothes separate from your girl clothes, so you always know who you’re supposed to be.” She thought for a moment. “But you’re right; you don’t have any clothes that are good for helping with the snow. I think there’s only one real solution — we’ll have to get you some jeans and snow boots of your own. Come on, Girls! Let’s go shopping!” She turned off the TV and grabbed her purse.

The three Brooks women bundled into their coats and headed off to the mall in Mom’s car. Stephanie had a lot of fun trying on new clothes, and didn’t feel weird stripping down to her panties in the changing booth in front of her sister. She ended up getting two pairs of jeans: a faded blue pair that fit tight on her waist and had wide flares at the bottom, and a deep blue pair that rode lower on her hips and straighter legs. She was supposed to wear the lighter pair for working and save the dark ones for if she ever wanted to go somewhere dressed casually.

Mom picked out a pair of nice soft baby-pink fleece sweatpants that she could wear for housework or exercising, and they had a matching hoodie to complete the outfit. It was only after they’d bought them that Michelle showed her sister the pair of white hearts printed on the back of the pants that matched the one on the front of the jacket. Mom almost wanted to return them when Michelle started teasing her sister for having a lot of love in her butt, but she stopped when she saw no one else was laughing.

Because Stephanie really didn’t have many casual tops, she’d need something she could pair with her jeans when shoveling snow. They got her a purple tank top that was supposed to be good for layering. It was tight and gave her boobs real definition. Stephanie loved it. Michelle found a red long-sleeved t-shirt that looked really cool. Its collar scooped a little lower than a boy t-shirt, and the sleeves were so long they could cover her hands if she wanted. Mom approved it and it went in the basket.

Stephanie saw a raspberry-colored top that she liked. It was a little stretchy and had short sleeves and a V neck, and all the edges at the collar and the sleeve and around the bottom were all rippled. They told her it was called a “lettuce edge,” like the vegetable, but she thought it looked more like a lasagna noodle. She giggled to herself for a while, wondering what raspberry lasagna would taste like.

In the shoe store, Mom kept picking pink shoes for Stephanie to try on. She got a pair of pink rubber snow boots that matched her coat, and a pair of pink sneakers for doing work around the house. They were having some kind of sale where if you bought one pair, you could get a second for half price. Stephanie said that her dance teacher wanted her in heels, and asked if she could get another pair so she wouldn’t have to be in navy blue every week. Michelle found her a pair of black pumps that she said would be perfect for any occasion. They looked like real grownup woman shoes. Mom added a pair of sparkly pink sandals that reminded her of the shoes the stars wear on that ballroom dancing show.

They’d gotten everything they came for, so Stephanie expected they’d just go home. But her mother and sister told her that there was more to shopping than buying something specific. Shopping was also about seeing what else was out there. They spent some more time walking through the mall, stopping at various stores and looking at things.

There was a sale rack in an aisle that had cold winter wear. Mom bought Stephanie a hat, scarf, and gloves in the brightest shade of pink she’d ever seen. It was to keep skiers from getting lost or something, but it would make Stephanie look ultra-girlie if she ever went out in the snow.

In one store Michelle tried on this silk top that fit her well and looked really nice, and Stephanie was surprised when she just put it back on the rack and didn’t buy anything. “You didn’t like that? I thought it was really pretty.”

“So did I. That’s why I wanted to see how I looked in it.”

“But you put it back?”

“I really don’t have anywhere that I can wear that kind of blouse, so buying it would be silly.”

“Trying on something you’re not going to buy isn’t silly?”

“Nope.” It seemed that Stephanie still had a way to go to learn how to think like a girl.

She tried harder to get into it, and as they continued browsing every so often she pulled out things that she didn’t want to buy just to look at them. She tried on a cute little skirt that she liked, but Mom said it was way too short for her. Michelle tried whispering that she’d get it for her as a birthday present, but their mother overheard and immediately vetoed that idea.

They were walking through one of the big department stores at the end of the mall when Stephanie saw something she wanted to try on. It was a short-sleeved dress, striped in light and dark purple and cream, that looked very pretty. It had buttons down the front, a gathered elastic waist and a built-in lining under the skirt so it didn’t need a slip. They had one in her size and it fit great! She twirled around in front of the mirror a few times before putting it back on the hanger.

Instead of giving it to the changing room attendant, Mom kept it and took it to the cash register. Stephanie was confused. She thought they were just supposed to be looking and not buying. Mom explained, “Yes, we’re just looking. Even if we like something, we put it back. But that look on your face says you don’t just like this dress; you love it. And what kind of mother would I be to deny you that feeling? And it’s one that works in either a casual or a dressy situation. With your dance class, and church every Sunday, you’ll have plenty of opportunity to wear it.”

Stephanie thanked her mother and gave her a big hug in appreciation. She really did love that dress. Steven never really cared much about what he wore. He didn’t even have any favorite shirt or sweater or anything. Feeling this strongly about a piece of cloth was a very new experience.

She was still smiling about her new dress as they continued shopping for a couple more hours until everyone was too worn out to continue. Mom looked at her watch and saw that it was getting close to dinner time. None of them had any energy to want to cook, so she called Dad and told him to meet them at Fiorelli’s instead of going home.

They got to the restaurant first and were enjoying a basket of garlic bread when he showed up. He told all three of his girls that they looked very nice, and gave his wife a sweet peck on the cheek. The waitress gave him a menu to look over, but he just ordered his favorite without bothering to open it.

Dad had had a rough day, and didn’t want to talk about it. He tried to look interested when Stephanie told him about the pretty new things they’d bought for her, but she could tell he didn’t care. He just smiled and said that he was amazed to see her so excited about something; his youngest child had always seemed so quiet and withdrawn, before.

She wasn’t really sure how to react to that. Stephanie was mainly emotional and talkative because that’s how girls are supposed to be, but she had to admit to herself that there was a part of her that really did want to tell her Daddy all about her exciting day of shopping. She really didn’t know where that came from. Steven just hadn’t had a lot he wanted to share with people, so he kept to himself, but Stephanie was greatly appreciating feeling connected to her family. It was weird.

She tried to shave the confusion out of her head while splitting a yummy tiramisu with Michelle. She forced out thoughts of what Steven was before and tried to just focus on being Stephanie in the present. And in the present she was enjoying a meal with the people she loved.

They got home and had time for the whole family to play a game of Uno before Michelle disappeared to go call her boyfriend. It was just a nice night. She put on her favorite nightgown (the one she’d been wearing when she kissed a boy), told some of her worries to Hannah the doll on her bureau, and then went to bed.

Friday morning, the light was very bright outside her window. The storm had come early, and the whole yard was layered in white. A few flakes were still falling, but it seemed like most of it had passed. After a breakfast of instant oatmeal, she was ready to help her father and sister with the shoveling.

She got wear her “raspberry lasagna” top and her new flared jeans for the first time. With her pink snow boots, her pink jacket, and her very pink scarf, gloves and hat, Michelle said she looked like “Snowbunny Barbie.” Dad had to break up the snowball fight that followed. He set them back to work on different sides of the house, Michelle with him in the driveway and Stephanie clearing the front walk.

She tried catching a few snowflakes on her tongue. When her nose was starting to get too frozen, they went inside, where Mom was waiting. She made them take off their boots in the hall so they wouldn’t drip all over the house. Since Stephanie’s jeans fit nicely over her boots instead of tucking into them, the cuffs were wet, and she had to take her pants off, too.

She felt very self-conscious about stripping to her panties in front of her dad and made him close his eyes while she ran out of the room to get her robe. He tried to make some kind of complaint, but he gave up and closed them. After a snack of hot chocolate and a cookie, it was back to work.

It had become an almost second nature for Stephanie to apply lip gloss, and that habit worked even better at keeping her lips from getting chapped than any balm ever had. If she hadn’t become a girl, she’d be a boy with icky cracked lips, and that alone almost made the whole thing worth it.

By the time she’d gotten to the end of the walk, she had to go over the beginning again, to scrape up new snow. Then it was ready for Dad to spread salt to keep it from getting slippery. Michelle convinced Stephanie to make snow angels in the backyard before going in, and it was fun.

It was even more fun when Mom saw them both come in covered in snow, and they both had to take their snowy jeans off. Stephanie’s robe was still right there, but it was Michelle’s turn to run through the house in her underpants while her sister giggled.

The plow had come, so Dad was out of excuses and had to go into the office. Mom gave him a kiss and told him to be careful on the roads. The news at noon showed a picture of Stephanie’s school, where the giant plastic tarp had blown off in the storm and snow had gotten into the big hole in the wall. They interviewed the guy in charge of fixing the school, and he swore that everything would still be finished on schedule.

Stephanie was kind of uncomfortable thinking about going back to school, because it reminded her of going back to being Steven, and she wasn’t sure how much of the good things about being Stephanie she’d be able to take back with her. She took a long, hot bubble bath when Michelle was done in the shower, and lay there wondering if it would have been easier if she’d always been a girl. She washed the things that didn’t belong on Stephanie and tried to imagine what she’d look like without them. She couldn’t decide whether the idea fascinated her or terrified her. When the water got too cold and her toes got too wrinkled, she got out and got dressed.

She felt like dressing up after her bath and put on her shiny pink tights, black skirt, ruffled pink blouse, and white cardigan sweater. She slipped into her new pink sandals to try them out. They had a seriously grown-up heel to them. The outfit worked well with her pink jewelry, and she used her glittery lip gloss and a little bit of mascara, and a dab of cologne. She was tired of her hairstyle and tried a few things, but settled on sweeping it forward on one side and pinning the other side with barrettes.

She went downstairs and Mom said she looked very pretty. Michelle asked if she had a date or something, and Stephanie told her she was just in the mood to look nice, even if her family were the only ones looking. She borrowed some polish and remover from her sister and changed her nails to a paler pink. Michelle offered to help, but Stephanie wanted to make sure she’d be able to do it when her sister went back to college.

Steven’s experience with model paints translated well to nail polish, and Stephanie’s left hand came out perfectly. However, Steven had never had to paint with his left hand, so the nails on Stephanie’s right hand were a little sloppy. Michelle told her to clean them off, and then showed her a better grip for holding the brush in her left hand, and told her she might gain more control by moving the nail against the brush instead of the brush against the nail. That was strange, but it worked. It was good to have a big sister that could teach her things.

Stephanie got to wear an apron and help her mother cook dinner again. She had to peel carrots and potatoes for a pot roast. Dad was running late, and somehow cooking the meal extra-long only served to make the meat more tender and delicious. Mom and Dad had to go talk about something in his study after dinner, and Michelle had another call from Kurt, so Stephanie just went up to her room and drew until she was ready to go to bed.

Stephanie’s package was delivered on Saturday morning. She’d almost forgotten about it, but when she opened the box and saw her two bottles of lavender and tea tree oil, she remembered her plan. If she used enough of those two oils, it would make her boobs grow, and then that obnoxious Christopher couldn’t call her a little kid.

Mom wanted to know what she’d gotten, so she told her it was some bath oil she’d bought with Grandma’s Christmas money. She snuck her bottles up to her room and pulled out the internet pages she’d printed about the oils from their hiding place in her attic.

She locked her door and opened the bottles. Tea tree oil smelled gross! And people actually used this stuff for mouthwash? She was planning on just rubbing the stuff into her skin, but people would definitely notice the smell. Lavender oil smelled much prettier, so she figured she might be able to get away with using it as perfume.

She stripped to the waist and lay down in her bed. Then she took a few drops of lavender oil and started massaging it into the general area where her boobs would be if she had them. It felt kind of good on her little nipples, but it made them stick up. When she had rubbed it all in, she smelled strongly like a flower and had oily hands. She wiped her hands on her ears and the back of her neck, where perfume would go, and ran them through her hair. She put on her bra and a camisole and a top, and it hoped that would be enough to keep the scent down. She put the bottles in her dresser drawer and went to wash her hands.

For the rest of the day, her family would get occasional odd looks on their faces, like they were thinking, “What’s that smell and where’s it coming from?” but nobody said anything to her. When she was ready for bed, she realized that her dirty clothes hamper was going to be smelling like lavender for a while if she was going to keep wearing the oil under her clothes. It was just as well that Mom had started Stephanie doing her own laundry.

She rubbed the tea tree oil on her chest before she put on her nightgown. It still smelled gross, but it didn’t make her want to throw up or anything. It was just like really strong paint fumes or something. She promised herself that she would keep it up as long as it takes.

She settled into a routine of rubbing lavender oil on in the morning and tea tree oil at night, and putting a few drops of both into her bathwater. She even tried adding some tea tree oil to the glass of water she rinsed with after brushing her teeth, but that was too disgusting for every day.

Sunday was a big day. Her mother had printed out a stack of invitations for Stephanie to hand out to her Sunday School classmates. They each said:

You are invited to Stephanie Theresa Brooks’ 12th Birthday Party!
2:00pm Saturday, January 19 Summerwood Cinemas
Bring a gift appropriate for a 12-year-old girl
There will be games and refreshments, followed by a showing of the new Disney movie Enchanted (Rated PG).
Please RSVP.

Stephanie was in such a good mood that she wore her pretty new striped dress to church, and pantyhose like a grownup, and she wanted to wear her new pumps but Mom said her Mary Janes would be more appropriate. She wasn’t exactly sure why she was so happy, until Michelle asked if she was putting so much effort into getting dressed up because she’d be seeing Brian again. Stephanie blushed from head to toe as an answer. She realized Michelle was right, but also asked her mother if she could have one more invitation.

When they got to church, she tried to catch Brian before Sunday School started, but she was waylaid by a very said Bobby Perrone who looked like he needed a hug. She whispered in his ear, “Hang in there, Robin. Just remember you’re an angel princess.” She wanted to invite Robin over for her birthday but knew she couldn’t invite an eight-year-old to a party that would be showing a PG-rated movie, so she made a plan to ask her mother if she could invite Robin to dinner some night.

She passed out her invitations at the beginning of class, and Debbie made sure to tell her immediately that she’d definitely be coming to the party. Patrick took his invitation, crumpled it up and threw it in the wastebasket without even reading it. A couple of the other girls said they had to check and see if they could get permission first. She wasn’t sure how to read the other boys. They just tucked the invitations into their pockets without making eye contact or anything.

Mr. Walters was still really cool through the lesson, and they did some readings about love that just made Stephanie daydream about Brian. She really didn’t know where that came from, but it was a happy thought so she went with it.

She finally found him during the coffee hour. She caught his eye across the room and he started walking toward her. They met somewhere in the middle of the room. It was all Stephanie could do not to throw her arms around him and smother him with kisses.

He managed to speak first. “Hi”

“Hi. Um, since you were nice enough to invite me to your party and all, I thought I would only be, like, fair to invite you to my party.” Her trembling hand held out an invitation.

He took it from her, and maybe he touched her hand a little longer than necessary. Her heart fluttered and she almost missed his reply. “Hmm. Looks interesting. I’m not sure it’s my kind of movie, though.”

Stephanie looked up into his face. “I would love to have you there.”

“These refreshments — are any of them strawberry flavored? When I see you I just can’t stop thinking about the taste of strawberry.” He licked his lips, and she remembered her strawberry lip gloss and felt her ears turning red.

She had to catch her breath before she could answer him, and then there was a shout from across the room and Pastor Moore was coming right over toward them, and he looked pissed off about something. Stephanie looked around for her family and tried to run away. Brian tried running off in the other direction.

She wasn’t fast enough. “You are an abomination, Young Man! I believe I have made it clear that your kind are not welcome here. Now get out of here and don’t come back until you can behave properly!”

Stephanie didn’t know what to do, so she fled the church, tears streaming down her face. She found Dad’s car in the parking lot, but it was locked. She leaned on it and tried to calm down, but she just started crying instead. She wasn’t waiting long before her family came out.

Mom gave her a tissue and tried to comfort her, but she was steaming mad. “He had no right to talk to you like that. I’m going to call the Deacons tomorrow and see if we can force him to apologize.” Even after they got home, she spent the afternoon on the computer composing a complaint letter.

Later on the phone rang and it was Brian. He said he was sorry he didn’t stick around when the pastor was yelling at Stephanie, and he sounded sincere. But she wasn’t about to let him off the hook that easily. He abandoned her to be chased away by a mad minister. She got him to promise to come to her party, and she caved a little and said that he might get to taste some strawberries if his present is good enough.

Since her party was a whole two weeks away, he told her that if she wanted to maybe see him a little earlier than that, he’d be having a couple friends over on the Saturday in between to play video games, and she’d be welcome to join them. She said she’d think about it.

Stephanie’s Deal by Jennifer Brock Nearly twelve-year-old Stephen Brooks got in trouble for peeking at his Christmas presents and his parents decided to punish him by making him act like a girl for his week and a half of vacation. That has since snowballed into two and a half weeks, with another two and a half to go, plus dance classes every other Wednesday, since Stephanie agreed to be a junior bridesmaid in her cousin’s wedding. Because she has a jerk for a dance partner, she’s started using botanical oils to try and grow breasts, a form of revenge that somehow makes sense to her. Last episode, there was an altercation after church, as the minister chased Stephanie out for talking to the boy she likes. This Episode covers a full week in Stephanie's life.

Episode 12

Stephanie’s mother spent most of Monday morning composing a letter to the Board of Deacons of Second Baptist to complain about Pastor Moore’s un-Christianlike behavior toward her child. She printed out multiple copies and signed each one by hand before mailing them off to all the board members.

Mom was still kind of simmering, but Stephanie approached her anyway. “Can I invite someone over to dinner on my birthday?”

“It’s not Brian Somers, is it? You’re already seeing far too much of that boy!”

“Does this mean you’re changing your mind about letting me go over there on Saturday?”

“No, I said you could go, and we’ve been trying to teach you about honoring agreements, so you can still see him. But since he’s also going to be at your party, I don’t see why we should invite him for dinner, too.”

“That’s ok. I didn’t mean him anyway. I wanted to ask Robin. Her dad’s been giving her a hard time, and I’ve kinda adopted her as my little sister. She’s too young for the movie party, so I’d want her to share in my family celebration.”

“Do I know Robin?” She thought about it. “Oh, you mean little Bobby Perrone. So he, I mean she, is sort of your protégé? I suppose we could make room at the table for more. I’ll call Mrs. Perrone and ask.”

Stephanie was glad to get that out of the way. She went to go hang out with her sister, just talking about stuff, nothing in particular. Well, maybe more about boys than anything else. She really wasn’t sure how girls were supposed to think about boys. She knew she liked kissing Brian, but she didn’t know if she liked him like a girl likes a boy. She didn’t like dancing with Christopher, but was that because he was a pain, or was he just not her type?

She was full of questions and no answers, and Michelle wasn’t terribly helpful and getting those answers, but it was good to get her impression of what life is like as a girl. Stephanie had almost no experience to draw on. Michelle tried to steer the conversation to sex, but Stephanie really didn’t think about stuff like that. She liked kissing but didn’t really see it as a sex thing.

Michelle asked her whether Brian would agree with that sentiment, and she lied and said she didn’t know. But she did know. That time she was kissing Brian in his pajamas, his thing was poking her. At least part of him was thinking about sex when he was kissing her.

Michelle asked what she’d do if Brian did think that kissing him meant she wanted sex. Would she touch him, down there, if he asked her to? Would she kiss it? Michelle used different words that she sometimes had to explain, and they made Stephanie very uncomfortable, but she felt that she needed to seriously think about how far she was ready to let Brian get. Michelle made a bad joke and asked if she’d let Brian put his thing in a place that nobody could possibly ever want to, and it was just gross. Eww! Michelle even said he should wear a thing so he couldn’t make a baby there, but that was just silly. Stephanie had had about enough of that conversation.

She was drawing in her room when Mom found her to say that she’d talked to Mrs. Perrone, and she’d invited both her and Bobby over for dinner on Stephanie’s birthday. She didn’t think Bobby could come as his little girl self Robin, though. His father really didn’t like him dressing up, and he had the key to the locked trunk of girl clothes. It was a compromise that kept him from throwing them out. That was a little disappointing, but at least Stephanie’s little friend would be there for her on her special day. It’s too bad her clothes were too big for Robin to borrow; otherwise she could just dress up after coming over.

Mom got a call on Thursday morning. The Deacons had held a special meeting the night before to talk to the pastor about her complaint. It wasn’t good. They agreed with him. Stephanie was no longer welcome in the congregation. If Steven wanted to be allowed to attend baptismal classes in the spring, a rite of passage for all twelve-year-old Baptists, he’d have to write a formal letter to the church “foreswearing his homosexual ways.”

Mom was madder than Steven had ever seen her. When she called Dad to tell him the news, she yelled and used words that Michelle didn’t even think she knew. She stormed off and did a bunch of research on the computer, to try to see if they had the right to make that kind of demand.

Michelle said they needed to leave her alone for a while, so Stephanie suggested they do all the housework themselves. She put on her pink fleece sweats and pulled her hair into a ponytail and set to work. Michelle started with the laundry, and didn’t even tease her sister about the hearts embroidered on her butt.

Stephanie decided to start by changing all the bedding on all three beds, and not just to give her sister more to wash. She then vacuumed the bedrooms. She wanted to vacuum downstairs next, but didn’t want to disturb Mom. She delayed by cleaning the bathrooms, a disgusting job but one that had to be done!
Michelle gently suggested to Mom that she take a nap and try to relax. Stephanie had even tried some aromatherapy by putting a few drops of her lavender oil, which was supposed to be good for removing stress, on a paper towel she folded and left on the nightstand to make the room smell nice. Michelle suggested a shot of brandy, which seemed to do the trick.

Since Stephanie had done the bathrooms, Michelle worked at cleaning the kitchen and let her sister do the easy stuff. Vacuuming was okay, but doing all the dusting in the living room really didn’t feel like “easy stuff.”

The girls decided to surprise their mother and make dinner. Checking the fridge for ingredients, they decided on spaghetti and meatballs. Michelle found Mom’s meatball recipe, and assigned Stephanie the task of making them, while she herself made the sauce.

Meatballs were more than just balls of meat. They needed spices and breadcrumbs, and even eggs, and you had to make them all the same size. They needed to get fried up in a pan on really low heat until they were brown all over, and then they could get added to the sauce. Stephanie washed vegetables for the salad while Michelle got the pasta started.

Dad came home early, and had flowers for Mom. Michelle took them and showed Stephanie how to put them in a vase. They told him she was resting, and he went up to check on her. Michelle suggested that maybe he was giving her another way to work out her tension, and it took Stephanie a minute to figure out that she was making a sex joke.

And that may well have been what their parents were up to, because when they came downstairs for dinner, neither of them was wearing what they had on before, and Mom seemed much more relaxed. She even smiled when she saw that the meal was ready and she didn’t have to do a thing.

They had a nice meal, without once mentioning the upsetting phone call. Mainly they talked about Michelle getting ready to go back to school. Did she need to buy anything? Would she need help packing? Was there enough money in her checking account? It made Stephanie sad to think of her sister leaving, but it did make college sound really exciting.

After cleaning up the leftovers and putting the dirty dishes in the dishwasher, the sisters watched an old movie on cable. The old folks had already gone to bed. Stephanie had fun hanging out with her sister. It’s too bad it wouldn’t last.

She spent almost all day Friday giving her sister a hand packing up her stuff. It was fun to be useful, but a little sad. She’d gotten closer to her sister than ever before and now she was going away. It just didn’t seem fair!

As they were packing her things, Michelle had Stephanie put all her nail polish and files and stuff in a shoebox. Michelle then took her three favorite bottles of polish out and put them in her suitcase, and told her sister she could take the rest of the box back to her room, as sort of a birthday present. Stephanie thanked her and gave her a big hug.

Michelle added that she was welcome to borrow anything that was left in her room, whether she wanted to try on some of her clothes or read her old books or anything, and that it would still be okay even if she went back to being a boy most of the time. Michelle said that she thought Stephanie would be having some rough times ahead, so if she could get any comfort from her big sister’s room that would be fine.

After dinner Stephanie got another present that was sort of from her sister. Dad gave her her own cell phone, and he said that Michelle had convinced him that she deserved it. It already had Mom’s and Dad’s and Michelle’s numbers programmed into it, and she could call those three as often as she wanted. For any other numbers, she’d have to pay for the minutes. Like most things Mom picked out for her it was pink, but she said that they could change the cover if that color became no longer appropriate at some point in the future. She thanked them all, and the family played a game of cards together in honor of Michelle’s last night at home.

Saturday morning they all got up early for a big breakfast before she hit the road. Dad was being all strong, Mom was a little weepy, and Stephanie was just plain crying. She didn’t want to let her sister go. But she really had to get back to school.

But she didn’t have too much time to be sad, because she had a maybe date with Brian that afternoon. She waited until lunchtime and called him to make sure she was still invited. She didn’t know if the church had said anything to him too, since the pastor always seemed to yell at her only when she was with Brian. But he said that she was definitely still invited, and he’d be very disappointed if she couldn’t make it. She was thrilled.

Of course, now she had a whole new problem. What should she wear to a not-quite-date, hanging out with the boy she liked and his friends, playing video games and whatnot? If she went too dressy, that would be awkward. A real girl would probably wear jeans to something like that, but she didn’t want to remind Brian that she wasn’t a real girl, so she didn’t want to dress too much like a boy.

She settled on her denim skirt, which was kind of like a pair of jeans only more girlish. She thought she’d keep it casual by wearing her sneakers, but it was kind of cold, so bare legs wouldn’t be a good idea, which meant tights. She tried to think if she’d ever seen her sister wear sneakers with tights, and couldn’t remember her ever pulling that look off.

She tried it to see how it looked. For a top, she chose her purple tank top and put her pink cardigan over it. She wanted to be able to take off a layer in case they were going to be playing one of those Wii Sports games that had a lot of physical activity, but be warm in long sleeves if they weren’t. She coordinated by choosing her pink tights, and then buttoned up her denim skirt. Her pink sneakers didn’t look too out of place, but she wasn’t sure how fashionable it was.

She put on her pink jewelry ensemble and put her pink headband in her hair. She went easy on the makeup, brushing on a little of her brown daytime mascara, Brian’s favorite strawberry lip gloss, and just a hint of blush. Instead of cologne, she put a little of her lavender oil behind each ear.

She’d been using those oils for a week now, and nothing seemed to be growing yet. The article that said they made boobs didn’t say how long it was supposed to take, so she figured she’d just keep going. They might have been making her nipples a little pinker, or maybe it was just from all the rubbing. She daydreamed about having more than just padding in her bra, and wondered what it would feel like if Brian tried to touch them.

Since she couldn’t get her sister’s opinion on her outfit, she settled for showing her mother what she was wearing, and asked if it was appropriate for spending an afternoon maybe-date with a boy and his friends. Mom said she looked nice, but wondered if she had a bag that would work with it.

Stephanie had forgotten a purse! This girl stuff was complicated. She went up to her room and looked over her options. Her little rhinestone drawstring bag was too fancy. Her navy handbag didn’t match any of the colors she was wearing. Her shiny black patent leather purse might work, since black was supposed to go with everything, but it made her want to switch her shoes to her Mary Janes. It was a little less casual, but she also could stop worrying about whether you should wear tights with sneakers.

She showed Mom again, and she approved the changes. Stephanie still had some time to kill before she needed to go, so she went and flipped through a magazine in her sister’s room. As though she were psychic or something, Stephanie’s new phone started ringing, and it was Michelle checking in. She was making good time and had stopped for gas, so she thought she’d see how her little sister was doing getting ready for her big date.

Stephanie described what she was wearing, and Michelle said that sneakers with tights were indeed a risky fashion choice. Some girls can pull it off; others just look goofy. It was much better to play it safe. She also reminded Stephanie that she didn’t have to do anything she didn’t want to. If Brian tried to pressure her into doing something she wasn’t comfortable with, she should say no. And if he kept pressing her she should just leave. Now that she had a phone Mom and Dad were never that far away. She had to get back on the road so Stephanie thanked her for the call, and wished her luck.

The butterflies in her stomach had been doing aerobatics for about an hour before it was time to go. She double-checked in the mirror to make sure everything was in the right place, grabbed her coat and Mom drove her over to Brian’s.

Mrs. Somers let her in and told her she looked very nice. The boys were downstairs, and Stephanie knew how to get there. She took off her coat and saw Brian playing some kind of sword fighting game against a blond-headed boy she didn’t know. There was another boy watching them. He had curly brown hair and wore glasses. “Hi, I’m Josh. That’s Tim. You must be Brian’s girlfriend. Your shoes are the kind the girls at A&P wear; do you go there? I haven’t seen you around.”

Stephanie was confused. “Do you work at a grocery store?”

“No, I’m a kid. I don’t work anywhere. That’s a weird question to ask.” He called over to the couch, “Brian, your girlfriend is kind of weird.”

Brian hit the pause button, and Tim, the guy he was playing against, complained that he only did it because he was losing. “Hi, Steph. Guys, this is Stephanie. Steph, this is Tim and that’s Josh.”

“Josh already covered that. Did you tell these guys I was your girlfriend?”

Brian looked embarrassed. “I said you were a girl, and a friend, but I guess they misunderstood.”

Josh corrected him. “That’s not what you said. You said there was a girl you liked and she was coming over and we were supposed to be nice to her.”

Brian looked really nervous. It was so cute! “Um, Steph, let me help you hang up your coat.” He dragged her and her coat upstairs to the coat closet. “Look, I’m sorry. You can go home if you want to. I did something kind of wrong. We were back at school and talking about our vacations, and somehow we drifted to talking about girls and I said that I’d had a girl over for New Year’s and kissed her, and they said prove it. So I invited you all over today to prove to them that I knew a girl, but it was stupid of me and if you hate me I understand.”

“I don’t hate you.” She started walking back downstairs, and gave him a quick kiss. “But that’s all the strawberry you’re getting today, and no trip to France.” When Brian figured out her code words, he felt really ashamed. When they had rejoined the others, she said, “Yes, Weird Boy, I’m the one he told you was his girlfriend. And as long as he gets me an awesome birthday present next week, he’s allowed to keep calling me that. Now why did you want to know where I buy my groceries?”

“I don’t.”

“You asked me if I went to the A&P.”

“Oh… Vocabulary problem. We three are all students at St. Philip’s Academy for Boys. We share a few specialty classes with the school next door, St. Anne’s School for Girls. Collectively, the two schools are known as Saints Anne and Philip, or A&P, like the grocery store, but there really isn’t one of those near here. The girls at St Anne’s wear shoes like yours with their uniforms, but if you don’t know A&P I guess you don’t go there.”

“I see. I go to Roosevelt, or I would if it was open.”

“Cool.” Eventually things settled down, but it seemed like Josh could not stay quiet for very long; he was always talking, but not saying much.

Tim won the battle, and then they decided to play a four-player game of tennis. Stephanie realized that her own Nintendo Wii had been set up in her family room for almost two weeks now, but she still hadn’t played it. Brian’s was the only one she’d ever used. She made the mistake of commenting on that, and Tim just kept making dirty jokes. “Brian’s girlfriend likes to play with his Wii,” or worse, “Brian’s girlfriend has a Wii,” which wasn’t as funny as Tim thought it was, because it was true and not something either of them really wanted to be reminded about.

It did help Stephanie and Brian soundly defeat Tim and Josh, though. She felt like rewarding her boyfriend (it was really cool that she could call him that) for a job well-done and gave him a little kiss, right in front of his friends. That should be the proof he needed. His friends were dorks, anyway. She wished it could be just the two of them, but wishing doesn’t work. If it did, she’d have a huge set of boobs hanging on her chest. She wondered if Brian was really into boobs. Most boys were supposed to be.

They went on to do a four-player game of bowling, but in this one the players went one at a time. The cool part is she could snuggle up to Brian on the couch while the dorks were taking their turns. She’d taken her sweater off, so when he put his arm around her, his fingers were actually touching her actual shoulder.

By some weird fluke, she actually bowled a strike, and Brian gave her a playful pat on the butt in congratulations. She shot him a funny look, but it really wasn’t that bad. It just reminded her of some of the things her sister had warned her about boys and butts, and that was gross to think about.

Much too quickly, it was time to go home. Tim’s came to take him home and was already going to drop Josh off, so he offered to take Stephanie home as well. She made Brian come back downstairs with her to get her sweater, and when she had him alone she gave him a goodbye kiss and opened her mouth a little and played with his tongue. They got her sweater and went back upstairs, and she rode home with the dorks.

Stephanie spent Saturday night sketching, trying to imagine what Brian was up to, since he was her boyfriend and all. She did the happy “I have a boyfriend” dance up in her room, and wished she had somebody to tell. She settled for having an imaginary conversation about boyfriends with Hannah, her doll. She was glad that she had a nice boy like Brian and not a mean one like Christopher for a boyfriend. It was a word she didn’t get tired of using.

The whole family stayed home on Sunday. If Stephanie wasn’t welcome, none of them would go. Mom decided that they would have a Family Day at Home, so they all just kind of hung out in their pajamas, Dad got to watch golf when he would have been at church, and Mom and Stephanie baked an apple pie from scratch.

The phone rang after lunch and it was for Stephanie. It was Debbie Washington from her Sunday School class. She said that Pastor Moore had come into the class at the beginning of the session and announced that “Steven Brooks had been asked by the Deacons to leave the congregation until such time as he was no longer actively defying God’s order by dressing inappropriately.” Mr. Walters told the Pastor that if that was Second Baptist’s idea of what it meant to be Christian, he could no longer serve there. He walked out and the class was stuck without a teacher until someone tracked down Mrs. Kendall to fill in.

The class never really got started. Elizabeth Patterson pointed out that she was wearing pants, and asked if she was actively defying God’s order. Mrs. Kendall had no idea what to say, so Elizabeth then went on to ask whether they were all defying God’s order in the play on Christmas, or if God let people have the day off to defy whatever order they wanted. Were all the women up in the congregation who were wearing pants actively defying God’s order? The entire class broke down into total chaos with everyone asking about actively defying God’s order.

Debbie said that it was a total laugh riot and was sorry that Stephanie had to miss it. She did say that the girls got together after “class” and talked amongst themselves. They’d all already agreed to go to Stephanie’s birthday party, and none of them were going to back out of it, even if it meant ADGO. They even decided to start using “ADGO” when text messaging. Debbie wanted to know if Stephanie had a texting account, but she didn’t. She did just get a phone, but if she used too many minutes she’d be in trouble. Debbie told her where to go on her computer to get a free internet text messaging thing, and had her write down her id so Stephanie could add her to her buddy list, whatever that was. It sounded pretty cool.

Stephanie passed along some of what Debbie had told her about class to her mother, and she laughed hysterically at it. She also made it a point to get Mr. Walters’ phone number from the church directory, and called to thank him for setting a better example than some people. She asked him what church he was planning on going to instead, and he didn’t know. Mom didn’t know either. Dad said they should try the Episcopalians, since they had a lesbian priest or whatever the right word for it is, so they should be more open to issues of flexible gender or sexuality. Mom said she was more used to the rules of the Baptists and didn’t like all the high ceremony of the Episcopalians. Dad said she just didn’t want to learn the “trespasses” version, and Stephanie had no idea what he was talking about.

Stephanie’s Deal by Jennifer Brock Once upon a time, an eleven-year-old boy named Steven was in his church’s Christmas pageant playing an angel, since the boys and girls had switched roles. He was naughty and peeked at his presents, and for punishment his parents made him play a girl role for his entire winter break. Stephanie, as she was now called, bonded very closely with eight-year-old Bobby who would rather be a girl named Robin, and this week Stephanie will be turning twelve and she’s invited Bobby and his mother over to share their celebration. Bobby’s father has a problem with Robin, but will that spoil Stephanie’s birthday? But first, she’s got another dance class with that brat Christopher for a partner. Find out if 13 proves unlucky for our heroine.

Episode 13

On Monday, Stephanie woke up with an idea. After having her bath and rubbing lavender oil into her chest (when was this stuff supposed to start working?) she dressed up all in pink, since that seemed to be the color her mother preferred to see her in: her pink sleeveless dress over pink tights and topped with her pink cardigan sweater. She even wore her pink training bra and matching panties. Disappointingly, she had to go with a white slip, since she didn’t have a pink one. She did her hair with her pink plastic headband, and wore the pink jewelry set her aunt had made. She went a little further with her makeup than usual, and used some pink eye shadow as well as her brown mascara to make her eyes pretty and used a tiny bit of pink blush on her cheeks. Her look needed pink lip gloss of course, but she went with the glittery one she didn’t wear very much.

She grabbed a bowl of cereal in the kitchen, and then sought out her mother. She was at her desk working on someone’s taxes. When she looked up and noticed Stephanie watching, she told her she looked very pretty and asked how long she’d been standing there. Stephanie said it hadn’t been that long, but Mom was impressed anyway, since Steven had never been known for quiet patience. Stephanie said that she didn’t want to interrupt, and asked her mother to come and talk to her when she finished. There was something she wanted to talk about, but it wasn’t so important that it couldn’t wait.

An hour or so later, Stephanie’s mother found her up in her room changing her nail polish. She was having a little trouble working left-handed, so Mom pulled a chair over and said “Give me your hand and I’ll give you a hand.”

Stephanie giggled and thanked her mother for helping. Mom started by using a cotton swap and some remover to correct a few of Stephanie’s mistakes, and then held her hand and gave her nails a light coat. While that was drying, she asked what Stephanie wanted to talk about.

Stephanie got a serious look on her face. “I’ve been thinking about my birthday.”

“Have you? You know, your father and I have been toying with the idea of giving you a day of amnesty, letting you be Steven again on your birthday for twenty-four hours.”

“Um, thank you for thinking about that, but I don’t think it would be right.”

Mom sounded cautious. “Why not? Does it seem more right for you to be a girl now?”

“No, that’s not what I meant.” Stephanie wasn’t sure what the answer to that question was, and thinking about it scared her. “I mean it wouldn’t be right to change the terms of the deal after we already signed the contract. It said I had to be a girl every day, full time, until school started, and school hasn’t started yet. So it wouldn’t seem right to try to get out of that, even if you wanted to let me.”

“Wow. That’s a very mature way of looking at things. I guess you really are growing up.”

Stephanie had a moment of excitement mixed with panic and glanced down to see if maybe mom had noticed something or things growing, but she was still a pancake. “Anyway, I was thinking about my birthday. I know you got me a phone, and that’s a great present, and I love that I can talk to Michelle any time I want to, and I don’t want to give it back or anything, but I was wondering if you could buy another present besides that one.”

Her mother relaxed and smiled. Her child finally had a familiar issue. “Oh, okay. All this was just your way of asking for something. We may have been planning on getting you a present to give you on your actual birthday. Do you want to go look in my closet to see if I’m hiding any nicely wrapped presents in there?”

That was a low blow, but Stephanie deserved it. She shook her head and tried to keep her lip from quivering. She mumbled, “No, that would be wrong.”

“Well, in case we haven’t bought you anything yet, what was it you wanted?”

Stephanie took a deep breath to clear her head. “Well, you know how I wanted to invite Robin to dinner, but Bobby’s dad doesn’t like Bobby being Robin, so Robin can’t come over but Bobby can? Well, what if when Bobby got here we wanted to play dress-up, and we just happened to have some pretty things in the right size and maybe a even a wig since Bobby’s dad cut off all his hair, so Robin could be at my birthday anyway? She really likes being a girl, but doesn’t get to at home now, and I can’t even see her at church anymore to try and cheer her up by reminding her she’s still a girl inside!”

Mom was not expecting anything like that. “Um, that’s very generous of you, wanting to do something for someone else on your special day. Bobby did look very sweet at the Christmas pageant, and wearing his cute little dress afterwards, but I don’t know if we really ought to get between him and his father. Are you sure he feels like a girl inside?”

“That’s what she told me. You can call Michelle and ask her about the tea party at Robin’s we went to. Michelle talked about how doctors can turn boys into girls and she got all excited.”

“Do you feel like a girl inside, too? Is that why it matters so much to you?”

“I don’t think I feel any different inside than before. I know I wouldn’t want to get doctors and stuff involved. This is about Robin, really. She’s like a little sister to me, and the last time I saw her she looked so sad. I just wish there was something I could do to help my friend, and I thought maybe letting her be herself here might work.”

“Okay, honey. I can see that this really matters to you, so I’ll think about it. I’ll talk to your father, and if we both think it’s a good idea, I’ll call Bobby’s mother to make sure.”

“I guess that sounds fair.” Stephanie gave her mother a hug. “Thanks, Mom, for listening. And my nails are as good as when Michelle does them, too.”

Stephanie let her mother go back to work, and tried not to bug her about Robin. She spent the afternoon reading one of her sister’s Babysitters Club books until it was time to help mom with dinner. After dinner her parents talked in private for a while, and then Mom came to her and said she’d be calling Robin’s mother to see if she could agree with Stephanie’s plan. She thanked her Mom and went to bed that night feeling very happy for her friend.

Tuesday morning, Mom went on the phone and took a bunch of notes. When she hung up she told Stephanie, “I just called Mrs. Perrone. She likes your idea, and said it was very sweet of you to want to help Bobby. She thought about trying to sneak the trunk with Robin’s things in it over here, but her husband has the key so that wouldn’t do us much good. I told her not to worry; we could buy Robin some new things. She offered to pay for them, but I told her that wasn’t necessary. This is something you wanted to do, so you’d be using your grandmother’s birthday money. I wrote down all of Robin’s sizes, and we can hit the mall. Are you sure you still want to do this, knowing that it’s your money we’ll be spending?”

“That makes it even better. I can’t think of anything I’d rather spend my Grandma money on. Everything I’ve ever seen her in is really dressy, but if we shop for something casual but still very girlish, I might even be able to afford more than one outfit, and she can have fun picking things.”

Stephanie got dressed for action in her casual light purple two-piece dress, knee socks, and her pink sneakers. She had to go with her black patent handbag, even though it didn’t quite match her outfit; it was just the closest. They decided that getting Robin a wig was the most important, so Mom flipped through the phone book and called a few places to find one that sold child-size wigs and they wouldn’t need to wait five days to order one. She wrote down addresses of a couple of places that might work, and they drove off.

The first place they tried was a store just for wigs. They had some really pretty ones in small sizes for kids, but they were way too expensive. Fortunately, the children’s wigs they saw at the costume shop they went to next were priced within Stephanie’s budget. She picked out a pretty one that had long wavy hair held back with two built-in little pink bows. It came in a few different colors, and Stephanie thought that if she got one closer to Robin’s natural hair color, it might just make her sad about getting hers all cut off. So instead she went with one that was almost the same color as her own, and that might make Robin happy to match, more like real sisters.

Then they went to the mall, and Stephanie found a couple of nice dresses and a cute pink sweater that would work with either of them in an “End of Season” sale, and another store had some girls’ underwear on clearance, so she picked up a package of panties for Robin, as well as a little camisole undershirt (Mom explained that Robin was too young for even a training bra) and a slip. She had to pay full price for Robin’s tights, but she bought two different colors anyway.

In the bargain shoe store, she chose a pair of black shoes that would probably go with anything, and found a cute little handbag that seemed to match. She brought her things to the register, and the girl told her there was a sale where she could get a second item for half off, so she could get another pair of shoes and another bag cheaper. She a pair of black sandals for Robin that had a little more heel, and then decided she wanted another bag for herself; she was tired of not having one to match her outfits. Since two-thirds of what she owned was pink, she found a nice pink bag that would probably work with most of her wardrobe. At the very least it would always coordinate with her jacket.

They passed an accessories store and Stephanie saw a nice little necklace with a pendant on it in the shape of an angel that was perfect for Robin, so she bought it even though it used up most of the rest of her money. Mom’s notes didn’t say whether or not Robin still had pierced ears, so Stephanie wasn’t sure what to do about earrings. Her mother brilliantly suggested that they get a pair of little clip-ons, and if it turned out the holes in her ears hadn’t closed up she could borrow a pair of Stephanie’s earrings.

All that shopping left her feeling very worn out, but it was a satisfying kind of tired, knowing that her “little sister” would be so happy to be able to wear pretty things again. She thanked her parents again at dinner for letting her do it.

Wednesday she washed all of Robin’s clothes and made a little space for them in her closet. In a week she was supposed to go back to attending school as Steven and only becoming Stephanie part time, but she wasn’t sure how all those clothes would be able to share space. Stephanie had accumulated quite a lot during her fairly short time in existence. Maybe she could move some of her things into her sister’s closet, since Michelle took most of her stuff with her to college. She could even just move into Michelle’s room when she wanted to go to sleep as a girl, and let Steven have his room back completely for when he wanted to be a boy. It was getting too complicated to think about, so she decided to put it off as long as possible, and not worry about having to be Steven again until it actually happened.

Wednesday night was also the second session of her dance class. She wore her purple striped cotton dress with the buttons down the front, and spun around a few times to make sure it would move enough. She didn’t want the Maestro to get mad at her. She wore real pantyhose instead of tights, and put on her sparkly pink high-heel sandals. Her new pink pocketbook worked perfectly with her ensemble, as did the pink jewelry her aunt had made for her.

So that her stupid dance partner wouldn’t pick on her for being a little kid again, she put a little more effort into making her makeup look sophisticated. She had to use a book and a couple magazines from her sister’s room, but it was worth it. She started with foundation all over her face. The first time she tried it, she used too much and it made her look fake, so she had to wash it off and start over lighter. It took a while to get right, but she accented her eyes with black eyeliner and mascara, and then swept a little purple eye shadow across her lids. Her cheeks needed a hint of blusher, and she used some actual lipstick instead of just gloss. She looked in the mirror and thought she looked older, thirteen or fourteen, maybe even fifteen. Her boobs still hadn’t grown yet, but hopefully her padded bra provided enough bustline.

She dabbed a little lavender for perfume and confidently strode downstairs to wait for her ride. Unfortunately, Mom saw her and declared that she was “painted up like a trollop” and brought her upstairs to wash it all off. She protested that she needed to look like a real ballroom dancer, and her mother caved a little. She showed her the products she had used, and Mom showed her how to put them on much more subtly. When she got done, it might not have been the look of a sophisticated lady going dancing, but the girl in the mirror had to be at least sixteen. Stephanie thanked her for her work, and said that maybe some time she could teach her how to get that look by herself.

When her cousin Danny came to the door to fetch her, he was dressed up nice in a jacket and tie and dress shoes and looked pretty good. He let out a wolf whistle and told her if she was going to keep getting hotter every time he saw her, eventually he’d just have to forget they were related. This earned him a nasty look from his uncle, and he dropped the subject. They went out to his brother Matt’s car and drove to class. Everyone was early this time, and they were all dressed up nice.

Her dance partner even wasn’t a total tool, and told her she looked pretty. Okay, actually his sister said she looked pretty, but Christopher did say “yeah” in agreement. And the way he kept trying to look down her dress, he must have been convinced that there was something there to see. So it wasn’t all bad.

The Maestro came in and told them all that he appreciated that they’d all taken the effort to be properly dressed, but he still singled out Stephanie as looking the best and called her “My Dear Sweet Princessa” again. They began the class by reviewing what they’d done the last time, and she had to let Christopher touch her shoulder and hold her hand as they went over the steps of the foxtrot.

Once everyone was competently dancing in place in a square, using the correct foot on each beat in the music, they learned how to make the dancing less boring by moving around the ballroom in a big circle as they made their squares. The boys were the only ones who could see where they were going, so it only made sense for them to be in control of when to turn, but it was annoying that they also got to decide when to take big steps forward or to take little steps to the side, and the girls had to pay attention and follow their signals.

They danced for a while, and it got to where they could do it without looking at their feet. Maestro did pick on her a little for not smiling at her partner, but she learned that she could fake smiling at Christopher easily enough by imagining that he was her boyfriend Brian. She wondered if Brian would ever want to dance with her for real. Maybe if she promised him a kiss afterward. Brian seemed to like kissing her even more than she did.

She missed a beat and stepped on Christopher’s toe, and it pulled her out of her daydream. She blushed a little and tried paying better attention. By the time class was over, everyone was more or less looking like they knew what they were doing.

When their time was just about up, the Maestro gathered everyone into the middle of the room. “There is one more piece of business that needs to be taken care of before I can let you all go.” He used his little remote control to dim the lights. “It has come to my attention that tomorrow is a very important day for one of my favorite students. Isn’t that right, Princessa?” He took a slight bow toward Stephanie and hit another button on his remote. Music started, and his receptionist came into the room carrying a sheet cake glowing with lit candles.

Everyone started singing “Happy birthday Dear Princessa,” and Stephanie felt very embarrassed. But she blew out the candles when she was supposed to, and everyone applauded. They went out into the lobby where there were plates and forks and drinks, and the girl sliced up the cake. Maestro apologized that there were only twelve candles, and Stephanie couldn’t tell if he was being serious. She laughed and told him it was okay, and she would just pretend to be twelve.

Steven had never had a surprise birthday party, so this would have been Stephanie’s best birthday ever, even if she didn’t know there were two more parties in her future, one with her little sister and one with her boyfriend. Everyone must have been in on the surprise, because she even got birthday cards from all the other bridesmaids and some of the guys.

Grace said that they weren’t originally going to do anything, since she and Dan and Matt would be celebrating with Stephanie on Sunday at her grandmother’s, (That was a fourth party that Stephanie had completely forgotten about.) but when Shelby found out that it was going to be her birthday, she insisted on getting a cake and everything.

Stephanie thanked Shelby and gave her a little hug, and Shelby introduced her boyfriend Jeff and her daughter Tara, who’d come with the cake. Tara was a very pretty six-year-old who would probably grow up to be just as beautiful as her mother. She said that she picked out the cake, and Stephanie said the pink flowers in the frosting were a good choice. She said that pink was one of her favorite colors, and pointed to her earrings. Also, since Tara was going to be the flower girl, Stephanie trusted her opinion on flowers. Tara had a really big smile at that. She was a really sweet little kid.

Shelby was very impressed with how well she interacted with Tara, and asked if she’d ever be available for baby sitting. Stephanie didn’t know, since she’d never babysat before she’d have to ask her mom. But she exchanged phone numbers with Shelby anyway. When she got home that night her mother and father said they’d have to think about it. Dad in particular was concerned about what would happen if Shelby learned Stephanie’s secret and if it could be construed as criminal fraud if she tried to watch a child without telling her first.

Thursday, Stephanie was awakened by a bleeping noise coming from somewhere. She finally tracked it to her phone, which was sitting on the bureau recharging. It was Michelle calling to wish her a happy birthday at 7:00 in the morning. She told her big sister about her surprise cake at dance class, and how she’d invited Robin for dinner, and how fun shopping for her was.

She asked her sister how her boyfriend was, and Michelle actually passed the phone to Kurt so he could wish her a happy birthday, too. Kurt said he’d been confused and thought Michelle had told him she had a little brother, but he’d seen the pictures of Stephanie with her sister and realized he must have remembered wrong.

Michelle came back on and wished her a good day and said she had to get to breakfast if she was going to make her class on time, so she said goodbye and promised to call again in a few days. She couldn’t say outright since her boyfriend was there but she told Stephanie that she’d been talking to that person she’d told her about and was learning a few things. Stephanie told her sister that she loved her and wished her luck in class before saying goodbye.

Mom had made a really special breakfast with blueberry pancakes and sausages and hash browns. It was quite a feast. Dad had to go to work, but he promised it would be a light day and he should be home early enough to greet Stephanie’s guests. He gave her a little kiss on the top of the head on his way out.

Stephanie’s mother had a treat for her. It had been four weeks since her last visit to the beauty salon, so she was treating her to a special birthday makeover. Stephanie was not sure whether to be happy about that or not, remembering the pain and suffering of the first time.

This time Mom had an appointment of her own, too. So when Stephanie was taken away to get her hair done, Mom wasn’t there to tell the stylist what to do. Stephanie put herself at the mercy of a stranger and told her not to change it too much; she really liked the hairstyle they’d given her last time. The hairdresser calmed her down by saying that she was just in for a wash and a trim and a touch-up on her color. It wasn’t as horrible as she’d remembered it. It even felt really nice when the girl washed her hair. She checked the mirror after and recognized herself, she just was a little blonder and they’d cut back her bangs so the rest of her hair seemed longer.

She got passed off to the torture lady to get her legs waxed again. It still hurt like heck, but it did seem to leave her legs smoother than they’d been lately. The lady doing the wax thinned Stephanie’s eyebrows a little more, and then asked her if there were any other areas she wanted done. Stephanie stared kind of blankly at the question, so the lady had to get specific about what areas she might want done. Stephanie got really embarrassed and felt like a little kid when she had to say that there wasn’t any hair in those areas to remove.

The Asian woman who did Stephanie’s manicure had to start by removing her old acrylic extensions, and then they got cleaned up with some stuff, and then new extensions went on. She picked a bright pink nail polish when asked. The lady cleaned and scrubbed her feet and polished her toenails, too. That was kind of fun.

Then she got taken to a workstation they didn’t use on her the first time. A nice Spanish lady cleaned Stephanie’s face for her, and then wrapped it in a warm, wet towel for a few minutes. Then she cleaned her face again, but with some different stuff that made it feel almost sunburned. Finally, she put lotion on her skin that soothed the stinging.

From there, she got passed to a girl who was going to do Stephanie’s makeup. She told her that she wanted to look nice, but didn’t want her Mom to make her wash it off. The makeup artist, a cool redhead named Ivy who looked around Michelle’s age, said she had a mom herself and understood exactly what Stephanie wanted. When she’d finished, she kind of looked like a girl who was pretty without makeup, even though she was really wearing enough to make her eyes appear bigger, her lips fuller, and her complexion flawless. She thanked Ivy for getting it perfectly right.

She waited in the front of the shop for her mother to be finished. Mom came out looking very glamorous! She had a totally new hairdo, a little shorter but fuller, and a deeper color than it was. She had shiny pink nails with white tips, but hers weren’t as long as Stephanie’s. She wasn’t wearing pantyhose anymore, so she might have gotten painfully waxed just like her daughter. Her makeup was incredible, making her seem younger and prettier than somebody’s Mom was supposed to look.

When they got home, her mother got a little dressed up, but since Stephanie had gotten casual dresses for Robin, she didn’t want to be that fancy. She wore her soft, comfortable red jersey dress. When her legs stopped hurting, she added white tights and put on her black Mary Janes. They were her favorite every day kind of shoes, even if they weren’t as sexy as the ones with more heel. She put on her set of jewelry made of silver chains to jazz her look up a little, but that was it.

When Dad came home early as promised, Stephanie met him at the door with a hug and he told her she looked cute. But then he saw mom and they got all mushy-weird and she thought it best to leave them alone for a while. She went to check on the roast so Mom didn’t have to.

The doorbell rang not long after and Stephanie ran to get it. Bobby and his mother were there. He was holding a big box wrapped in pretty pink paper that had a huge bow on it. She showed them in and took their coats. Mom and Dad took Mrs. Perrone into the living room, and Bobby tried to give Stephanie her present, but she said to leave it with the grownups; there was something she had to show him upstairs first.

She could barely contain her excitement when she brought Bobby up to her room. “I’m glad you could join me for my celebration, but I’d much rather have my honorary little sister Robin.”

Bobby looked really sad. “Yeah, me too. But Daddy took Robin away.”

“I don’t think so. I think she’s still right here waiting to come to my party. Maybe you could help me find her.” Stephanie opened the door and gestured at all the Robin-sized clothes laid out on her bed.

Bobby blinked a couple of times before he understood what was happening. “Are those for me?”

“Sure, Robin. You’re welcome to play dress-up any time you come visit me. My parents and your mom know. It’s okay. Do you know which one you want to wear?”

Robin gave Stephanie a tremendous hug and thanked her a billion times, then started stripping off her boy clothes faster than she would have thought possible. Robin made Stephanie look away until she was a girl again. She could tell by the sound that Robin was using the roll of tape she’d left out, and a minute or so later she could turn around, and saw Robin standing there in her cami and panties. Stephanie showed Robin her options, and she picked white tights and shoes like Stephanie’s and the lighter pink dress. Robin pulled on her tights like she’d been doing it all her life, and only needed a little help adjusting the straps on her slip and getting her dress over her head.

Stephanie showed Robin the best part, and fitted the wig onto her head. Robin looked in Stephanie’s full-length mirror and cried a little. She was a girl again! She thanked Stephanie another billion times. She clipped the earrings onto Robin’s ears (Bobby’s dad hadn’t let her piercings stay open) and put the little angel necklace around her neck.

Robin took the lip gloss Stephanie handed her and applied it expertly, then put the tube in her bag. The girls were ready to show the parents. Robin practically bounced down the stairs. She was beaming widely and couldn’t wait to show her mommy her pretty new dress.

They went down to the living room, and everyone cooed over Robin for a while. She twirled and posed a little, but then settled next to her mother on the couch. Mrs. Perrone suggested that Stephanie open her present, so Robin brought it from the coffee table to Stephanie’s chair. There was a flowery-scented envelope on top of the box. It was a cute card that had Barbie dressed as a ballerina popping up in the middle when she opened it. It was signed “Robin and Kendra Perrone” and she could tell that Robin had written her own name.

The present itself turned out to be a very fancy collectible Barbie doll dressed as an Angel in a gown made by some real designer Stephanie had never heard of. It was really pretty and would look a lot nicer than the doll she currently had sitting on her dresser. She gave Robin a big hug. “Thank you very much. She’s beautiful, and the perfect present for an Angel Princess to give the Angel Queen.” She then had to explain to the grownups that she’d dubbed herself and Robin the queen and princess when she was the oldest angel in the Christmas play and Robin was the youngest.

Most of dinner went well. The food was delicious, and the company was wonderful. It was a really happy birthday for Stephanie.

But then there was some shouting and knocking at the front door. Robin said “Daddy,” and turned white as a sheet.

Stephanie’s father got up and went to the door. He opened the inside door but left the outside glass one locked. They peeked and could see that it was in fact Robin’s father at the door. “You got my wife and kid in there? Tell them they’re coming home.”

Dad held firm. “I’m not going to do that, Bob. They are guests in my home and we’re in the middle of dinner right now.”

“You stay out of this, Tom. I heard that they threw you out of the church for having a pervert kid, and I don’t want that pansy coming anywhere near my boy. So just send my family out before I have to call the cops.”

“Calling the police would not be a good idea for you, Bob. You’re pretty angry, I think you may have been drinking, and you’re trying to break into someone else’s home. That glass is bulletproof — knock on it all you want.”

Robin’s mom called out, “Maybe it would be better if we did leave. I don’t want to cause trouble.” She got up from the table and took Robin’s trembling hand to start to lead her out.

He must have caught a glimpse. “Kendra, what are you doing with that girl? Just get Bobby and get out here!” He figured out what he was seeing a moment later. “Holy shit! You’ve dressed him up again! Your pervy faggot kid is trying to make mine into one, too.”

Stephanie’s father was near his limit. “Bob, I’m going to have to ask you to watch your language. There are children here. Secondly, I’m not going to let your wife and daughter out until you either calm down or leave.”

“I don’t have a daughter and you know that, Tom. So cut the bullshit! You have no right to keep them here. That’s kidnapping.”

“Bob, I’m going to tell you a story. And you’re going to listen, because somewhere in the back of your head you’re going to remember what I do for a living. I have more than a right to keep your family away from you in the state you’re currently in; I have a duty to, as an officer of the court, the family court. Just think about that while you you’re opening your ears if not your mind. When your child arrived at my house this evening, I saw in that face an expression I have seen far more than I wish I had. This child was depressed and hopeless.

“The last time I saw that face was on a thirteen year-old-girl who was being placed into foster care because she’d been severely abused by her stepfather. And to see that face on an eight-year old was heartbreaking! But fortunately, my youngest, who seems to be undergoing a gender identity crisis of her own, had seen in your child a kindred spirit, and knew what would break that depressive funk. A sad little boy went up the stairs, but a delightful, cheerful, lovely young girl came down.

“Have you ever seen your child’s beautiful smile, Bob? I can’t imagine if you had, you’d want to put so much energy into destroying it. Robin is an engaging girl. You have a truly wonderful daughter. Now that beautiful child’s face underwent another change tonight.

“The instant she realized you were at my door, her smiles and laughter fled. Her new expression was unmistakably one of terror. That is also a face I have seen far too often on children in the court. When a child is that terrified of her parent, there is only one conclusion: that child has been abused, Bob.”

“Screw you, Tom. I’ve never done any perverted sex shit to my kid, and you can’t make some cop or judge believe I have.”

“Language, Bob. I wasn’t implying you had been sexually abusive. But you clearly have hurt your child deeply.”

“I have never hit my boy, and you can’t fake some proof. I watch Law & Order. I know how it works; you need medical records of broken bones or scars or something to show I did, and I didn’t, so there’s no evidence.”

“That’s not what I meant either, Bob. (That show has so much to answer for!) Your child has clearly been emotionally traumatized, and even a court-appointed psychologist could see that. I’m talking to you here now, because I don’t think it’s too late. Robin’s awakening was fairly recent, brought on by that messed-up play, and you don’t know how to deal with it.

“I’ve got some articles in my study I’ve printed out that may help you. Maybe she’s really transgendered, maybe he’s just gay, or maybe it’s just harmless experimentation, but how you’ve been handling it is the wrong way in any case.”

“I think your kid messed up my kid is what I think.”

“If you keep that attitude, you will lose your child, and probably her mother, too. If you don’t see any way to act except belligerently, I want you to go home and pack a suitcase, because I will have a restraining order kicking you out of your house in two hours. Judge Norton has a very low tolerance for abusers, and I have her home number.”

“If you do want to save your family, I want you to calm down, and I’ll let you in. If you can greet your daughter warmly, you’ll show me you’re willing to change, and you can stay for a piece of cake. But if you’re not being genuine and just want to play along until you get your family home, Kendra is going to have my number on her speed dial, and I’m prepared to handle any case she wants to file against you pro bono, because our girls are so close.”

Robin’s dad was getting shaky. “So you’re saying my boy is turning into a little sissy faggot and there’s nothing I can do to stop it, and if I try you’ll make me lose my kid anyway?”

“I’m saying your child may be developing an alternate sexuality or gender identity, and if so it’s not something you can beat out of her, and if you try you will no longer deserve to be her parent.”

He sat down on the front step and started weeping. “I just don’t know what to do, Tom. You said you had some articles?”

“Wait there. I’ll go get them.”

He shouted into the house, “Bobby, why don’t you want to be a boy anymore?”

Robin tried to find her voice, to speak up and answer him. “Daddy, it’s like I just didn’t know I was really a girl until I got a chance to try it. Please don’t make me stop.”

“From what he says, it sounds like I can’t stop you.” He started seriously crying.

Dad was carrying a three-ring binder when he went out to Mr. Perrone. “Here are those articles.” He reached down and helped him to his feet. “I really think they’ll help. I don’t think you’re a bad guy, Bob. You’re just experiencing something no one ever prepared you for.”

“Maybe you’re right, Tom.” He pulled his keys out of his pocket, and worked a small brass one off the ring. “Here. Give this to Bobby, I mean Robin. It’s the key to her trunk of dresses and stuff.”

“How about you come in for a piece of cake and a coffee, and you can give it to her yourself?”

It was a very intense, very emotional evening, and didn’t feel like a real birthday party anymore, but eventually Robin’s dad left to go home to get a few things and then spend the weekend at his sister’s, and a couple hours later Robin and her mom left.

Stephanie just cried about how scary the whole thing was, and told her father she hadn’t realized how cool he was. She thanked him for being way more understanding about everything, and thanked her mom for the fun part of her birthday, including getting to be pretty.

She couldn’t get to sleep, so she called her sister and told her the whole story about dinner with Robin and her mother and her scary father, and how their own father defused the situation like a cool action movie guy. He’d crushed an ogre down into a weak and frightened boy just by talking to him.

Stephanie’s Deal by Jennifer Brock Steven Brooks was a boy who got in trouble for looking at his Christmas presents and as punishment he was made to dress and live as a girl until school started again. There was an accident and the reopening of school was delayed. More and more it seems like Stephanie will have a difficult time going back. Already she has a boyfriend and a role as a bridesmaid in her cousin’s wedding. Last time, she had her twelfth birthday which didn’t go so well. Her little friend Robin was until recently a boy named Bobby, and when she came over to share Stephanie’s birthday dinner, her father showed up uninvited and yelled and wanted Bobby back, but Stephanie’s father made him go away. In this episode, Stephanie will have a birthday party with her friends from her old Sunday School class in which they attend the movie “Enchanted.” Some slight spoilers of that film are given, but no critical plot points are revealed.

Episode 14

Friday morning at breakfast, Stephanie’s father wanted to make sure she was okay before he left for work. They talked about what had happened the night before, and he apologized to her that her birthday celebration was interrupted. She said that since there was going to be another party with her friends on Saturday, and then dinner at Grandma’s with the cousins on Sunday, it wasn’t like her only celebration got ruined. And it seemed like Robin’s father really needed to hear what Dad had to say, even if it was really scary.

There was something she’d been wondering about. “Daddy, you knew what to do about what was bothering Robin’s father just like I knew what to do about what was bothering Robin. Is that because me being Stephanie makes you as mad as Robin being Robin does to him?”

He put his arm around his daughter. “Honey, I can tell you’ve changed since we started this, and Stephanie really doesn’t seem like a punishment for you. You didn’t seem depressed before, like when your little friend had her girl things taken away, but it does feel like you’ve become more outgoing and friendlier, and just happier in general as Stephanie than you were as Steven. If you need to take some time to figure out who you are, your mother and I are willing to give it to you. We love you and we are your family, regardless of what you’re wearing.”

Stephanie gave him a little kiss on the cheek. “Thanks, Daddy. I don’t think I’m like Robin. I’m not sure I’ll want to be a girl any more than I have to, but it’s nice to know that you’d let me.”

Dad had to get up and go to work. “You have a good day, Kiddo.” He gave her a pat on the head. “We’ll talk some more about how you see yourself next week, after all the birthday hullabaloo is over.” Stephanie got too giggly over Daddy’s silly word that she didn’t really think about what he had said.

Stephanie spent her morning sorting out a décor problem in her room. Her new Angel Barbie, which she got for her birthday from her friend, and her first doll Hannah, that she got for Christmas, did not want to peacefully coexist on her dresser. Angel Barbie was just too pretty, and too important a gift, that she made the old doll look plain and boring. Stephanie moved Hannah to her nightstand, so she’d be closer, but not in her direct view as much as Angel Barbie was. That seemed to be a fair compromise.

She spent most of her afternoon up in her room drawing, but then she got a call from Debbie Washington when she got home from school. She complained that Stephanie was never on the computer ready to chat like she was supposed to. How were they supposed to text about stuff if she was never there? Debbie wanted her to get into the chat thingy right away. It was kind of silly, since whatever she had to text about she could just as easily tell Stephanie while she had her on the phone. She just shrugged it off as something girls must do.

After making sure the computer was available, she hung up and then fired up the chatting program Debbie had recommended. Debbie had to explain a lot of the secret codes and jargons she was using, but she seemed to be very patient with Stephanie. Finally she changed the subject to boys she liked and what makes them cute, and Stephanie started understanding what she was talking about.

She told Debbie about learning to dance with Christopher and how he’s generally a pest but a decent dancer, and talked a little about her boyfriend Brian. Stephanie had heard that it was wrong for a girl to “kiss and tell,” so she tried to keep secret most of the details of exactly what she’d done with Brian. She played it coy but did tell Debbie she liked him and thought he liked her too.

Stephanie told Debbie Brian was going to be at her party, and asked for an opinion on what to wear. Would it be too dressy if Stephanie had on a dress at the cinema for her birthday party? Should she try for something more casual? It was a party, but it was also at a public movie house, so she had no idea what the right dress code would be. She wanted to look nice, but didn’t want to seem like she was trying too hard.

Debbie said that she was going to wear blue jeans and a nice top to the party. It was just more comfortable when you’re going to be sitting in one place for a couple hours. Stephanie had girl jeans she could wear, but she didn’t want to look like a boy. She worried that Brian might not like her if she was in pants. Debbie told her that she was being silly; no one would ever believe that Stephanie wasn’t a girl no matter what she wore. Between her hairstyle, her earrings, her nails, and if she wore a little makeup, she thought Stephanie would look totally girlish, even in jeans.

Debbie did tell Stephanie that as long as she wore a bra and had something filling it out, nobody would suspect that something might be filling out her panties, too. Debbie was probably talking about her padding, but Stephanie gave her chest a little squeeze anyway. She couldn’t feel anything sprouting yet. She had been using those oils for two whole weeks, and still no boobs! Maybe her nipples were a little bigger, but that could have just been her imagination. She wanted to ask Debbie how long it took her to grow hers, but she didn’t want to have to explain why she was asking, and didn’t know if girls really talked about stuff like that, or if it was too private.

She still wasn’t convinced to wear her jeans, so she asked Debbie if a casual skirt would be acceptable, since it would be less formal than a dress, but more girly than pants. She described her various skirts for Debbie. She said the khaki one would look too much like a school uniform, so that one was out. Her black and gray skirts weren’t good either; they weren’t casual enough. Her denim one would be more like jeans, so Debbie thought that one might work, but Stephanie really wanted to wear her red pleated skirt. Debbie said boys liked pleats; they made them think of cheerleaders and Catholic schoolgirls. She warned her that if she really wanted to go with the red skirt to pair it with a very casual top.

So now she had to run all her possible tops by Debbie for approval. Stephanie thought that she could wear her pink t-shirt with the lacy trim, but Debbie said that she’d heard that you shouldn’t put pink and red together unless you want to look all “Valentiney.” Stephanie tried suggesting her white turtleneck instead, but apparently that was just as wrong a combination. Debbie said that a light blue top would be better, but Stephanie didn’t have one. She asked if her purple tank top would be okay, and Debbie said the color could work as long as it was the same tone as the red, but a tank might be too cold in the theater. Stephanie described her cute raspberry top with the edging like lasagna noodles, and Debbie sent her a little smiley face. She said it sounded like a good choice.

Debbie asked her what she was going to wear for shoes, and Stephanie first impulse would be her black patent Mary Janes, but Brian’s friends said they looked like school uniform shoes, which is bad. So she thought maybe her pink sneakers would work better if she was trying to casual it up, but she wasn’t sure if socks or tights would be better to keep her legs warm during the movie. Were tights okay with sneakers? Debbie said that tights and sneakers can look cool together, as long as they were a strong color and not white. Ideally, she’d want the same color as her top, but Stephanie didn’t have raspberry tights. Debbie said black would be fine, so she was all set.

He mother came to get her for dinner, and Stephanie hadn’t realized that she’d been on the computer for an hour. She said goodbye to Debbie, and said she’d see her Saturday. Mom asked her a bunch of questions about what she’d been doing online, and Stephanie explained as best she could how the instant messaging thing worked. Mom looked over at the screen and saw some of the weird code words that Debbie had been using, and it all just looked like gobbledygook to her. Mom’s silly words were almost as funny as Dad’s and Stephanie got the giggles again.

After a really good dinner of pork chops and baby potatoes, Dad surprised Stephanie with a really tasty dessert. He’d stopped at a bakery on his way home from work, and bought some yummy chocolate éclairs! He apologized that Stephanie’s actual birthday hadn’t been exactly a happy one.

Then mom brought out a huge, beautifully wrapped package in pretty paper covered in roses. She said they didn’t think it would have been appropriate to give Stephanie her present after all the tension from Robin’s dad crashing the party, so they waited for a happier time. She said that they’d already gotten her a phone and two parties and that was plenty, but they insisted that she open her present.

Stephanie tried to be as careful with the paper as her mother usually was, and made sure to slowly unwrap her gift. But then inside were a bunch of other little wrapped gifts. They were in several different colors of paper.

Dad explained, “You’ve been through some confusing times lately. There’s a part of you that’s Stephanie, and so we’ve got some special things that you could enjoy as a girl; those are the pink ones. But there’s a part of you that’s still Steven in there somewhere, and the blue ones are things we hoped you might appreciate as our only son. And I think both sides of you could get something out of the purple ones.”

Stephanie wasn’t sure if it was a test. Did they want to see which color she’d open first? She took all the little packages out and lined them up on the table. There were four little pink packages, two medium-sized blue ones, and three flat purple ones. She opened the purples. They were three cool-looking games for the Nintendo Wii system that started this whole mess.

Mom said that they hadn’t seen her playing with it since they set it up, and she said she thought it was because the contract said that Steven couldn’t play with the game he got for Christmas until after school started. But since these were new games, maybe Stephanie would feel comfortable playing them. Dad even thought the race-car one might be fun to play with two players.

Stephanie told her parents she’d save the blue ones for last because there were only two of them and they felt important. The pink ones turned out to be really nice. It was a set of actual jewelry, not just plastic beads but real jewels! They had garnets, which were Stephanie’s birthstone, along with tiny diamond chips in fancy gold settings. She got beautiful drop earrings, a lovely pendant, a delicate bracelet, and a ring with a little formation of baby diamonds around a big garnet in the middle. It was gorgeous, but she wasn’t sure when she’d have an opportunity to wear such fancy stuff. Maybe at dance class, to show off in front of Christopher. She gave her mom a big hug.

One of the blue presents was a cool model kit of a car that had real metal parts! Dad probably had picked this out before he found out Stephanie was going to be around for the birthday. She told him it looked like it would be a good challenge to make, and said that just maybe it would get put together before Steven came back.

The last blue package was very special. It was a special wooden box containing an old jackknife with a fancy handle that had pearly bits on the sides and a brass thing on the end engraved with a cursive letter B.

Dad said that, “I know you never met him, but that knife once belonged to your grandfather. And he gave it to me when I turned twelve. I know you’re not really the outdoorsy type, but I know you like to make things, and in that box there you’ll also see a book that’s the Boy Scouts’ Guide to Whittling. If you’re interested I could show you what my dad taught me to do.” He was almost crying. Steven and his father had never really connected, but he was always trying to.

Stephanie gave her father a big hug and fought back a sniffle of her own. “Thank you, Daddy. I will treasure this, and make sure I take proper care of it. I won’t let it break or rust or anything. We’ve got all those parties and stuff all weekend, so maybe next week you could show me, or Steven, or whatever. He’s supposed to be back next week.”

Mom came and joined in the hug. “You are our child whoever you choose to be, and we will always love you.”

Stephanie left her games in the living room, but took her other presents upstairs. She was really confused as she got ready for bed. It really seemed like Dad was ready to have his son back, but maybe Mom wasn’t. Someone had to have bought that expensive jewelry, and Stephanie was supposed to be going away in three days, and only come back for dance class and wedding stuff. Sometimes they were acting as though Stephanie was like Robin and wanted to be a girl forever. But she didn’t, did she? She shook off the idea and instead went back to massaging tea tree oil into her little pink nipples to encourage them to grow, and let her thoughts stray to wondering what her boyfriend was going to get her for her birthday.

Saturday morning she woke up nervous about her party. It would mean being out in public with a lot of people who knew her secret. At least she didn’t have to be nervous about what to wear, thanks to her chat session with Debbie the previous day. She started with her prettiest padded bra and a nice pair of panties, then pulled on her black tights with the stripes. She stepped into her red pleated skirt and zipped it up, then pulled on her “raspberry lasagna” top.

She wore her hair loose but fluffed it up with her brush. She put in her new garnet earrings, but didn’t want to go too fancy, so left the rest of the set in their boxes and just wore a plain gold chain necklace. She didn’t want Mom to complain, so she kept her makeup really minimal: a couple strokes of brown mascara on each eye, and a healthy coating of Brian’s favorite strawberry lip gloss.

Her morning was pretty much a blur. She was almost too nervous to eat breakfast, but by lunch time she was hungry enough that it didn’t matter. She gobbled her chicken salad sandwich and potato chips a little too fast; it almost reminded her mother of how her son used to eat. But when she finished and dabbed her mouth with her napkin and then refreshed her lip gloss, Stephanie was back.

Mom left first because she had to pick up the cake along the way. Dad was going to the party but wouldn’t be staying for the movie, so they took separate cars. The Birthday Girl got to ride with him. Stephanie was very nervous, and checked her look in the mirror three times to make sure she looked authentic. She also double-checked her purse to make sure she had everything.

The theater had a special room for parties off the lobby. It had a big table and some chairs set up, and there was a multicolored “Happy Birthday” banner on the wall. Mom told Stephanie to stand by the doorway to greet her guests, making sure to thank each one for coming.

Debbie showed up first, wearing a pair of jeans and a tight blue t-shirt with a pair of white doves printed on the front. Her hair was in loose waves across her shoulders, and it seemed like she had just enough makeup to call attention to her striking green eyes. She gave Stephanie a hug hello and told her she looked pretty, and then handed her a small package wrapped in cute polka-dot paper. Mom took the present and set it aside, and showed Debbie the table where there was a big bowl of popcorn and a little one of M&Ms. An usher with a tray of various sodas asked her what she wanted to drink and she picked a Diet Coke. Stephanie couldn’t see any fat on Debbie’s body that didn’t belong there, so it seemed weird for her to be dieting.

Kayla Wright was the next to arrive. Her mother had a quiet conversation with Stephanie’s, probably just about when to come back to pick her up but it made Stephanie feel a little too self-aware. Steven hadn’t known Kayla very well, and she wasn’t as outgoing with Stephanie as some of the other girls. She was tall and skinny, like her bones were growing faster than she could keep meat on them. She wore a pink party dress that was probably a little too small for her, but it’s kind of hard to tell with dresses; when a boy’s legs grow too long for his pants they turn into high-waters and he looks like a dork, but when a girl’s legs grow her hemline just gets higher and she shows more leg like a model. Her dusty brown hair was done up in pigtails tied with little pink bows. It looked cute, but little girl cute, not teenager cute. Her mom probably dressed her. She seemed really nervous.

Stephanie smiled brightly and thanked her for coming to the party. She wasn’t sure how girls that didn’t know each other that well shared a greeting. Should she give Kayla a hug like Debbie gave her? She took the little purple package from Kayla so her hands would be too busy to do anything, and directed her toward the refreshments. She watched and saw that Debbie didn’t give Kayla a hello hug, so that probably was the right call. The present went next to Debbie’s and Stephanie returned to her post as hostess.

Kimberly Stevens and Danielle Baker shared a ride and came to the party together. Danielle looked like something from another world. She had really pale skin, almost pink, and fine long hair the color of straw, but what you really noticed about her was her impossibly blue eyes. She wore a spooky black billowy lace dress, and her slender body moved with the grace of a dancer.

Kimberly was almost the complete opposite. Her parents had adopted her from China or something when she was a baby, so she didn’t have an accent or anything. She was shorter and a little chubbier than the other girls. Her shiny black hair was longer even than Danielle’s, and she wore it pulled back with cute little barrette’s with flowers on them. She wore a purple t-shirt trimmed in white lace, and a pair of blue jeans.

Stephanie greeted them both, (Kimberly went in for the hug) and her mother took their beautifully wrapped gifts. Stephanie was starting to get worried. The room was filling up and her boyfriend hadn’t shown up yet. Had Brian chickened out and decided not to come to her party?

She perked up when she thought she saw a boy walking through the lobby in her direction, but when “he” got closer she saw that it was just Elizabeth Patterson. She kind of looked like a boy since she had a short hairstyle and was wearing a loose t-shirt, faded jeans, and grungy old sneakers. She didn’t seem to be wearing any makeup, and her only jewelry was a tiny pair of gold studs in her ears. Stephanie tried not to look disappointed and smiled at her guest. Elizabeth told her she was very pretty, and handed her a cylindrical yellow package that was heavier than she expected.

It was almost time for the party to start when finally Brian showed up. He almost ran across the lobby, and apologized greatly for being late. Stephanie told him he was just on time, and gave him a little hello kiss on the cheek. He was even kind of dressed up, in a striped sweater over a real shirt with a collar and he had on a nice pair of black slacks and real shoes. He handed her a tiny little pink box, that seemed sloppily wrapped enough that he might have done it himself.

Mom said it was time for the party games, and she went to break out the “Pin the Tail on the Donkey” set she’d brought, but the usher stopped her and said that pretending that she thought the kids would like something that lame was a great joke. He winked at Stephanie and reached into his vest pocket to hand each of them five tokens that they could use in the theater’s arcade.

Kimberly grabbed Stephanie’s hand and led her over to this dancing game that was her favorite. It had a special platform where you had to step on certain spots when the screen told you to. All the girls took turns playing. Kayla seemed a little too shy to try, but Stephanie went out of her way to encourage her to give it a shot. Danielle was the best; she never made any mistakes, but Kayla was a close second. Elizabeth only went once, but it really wasn’t her thing. She and Brian got in these little booths where they could race cars against each other.

When everyone had run out of tokens, the usher escorted them back to the party room, where Mom had gotten the cake ready. It was a sheet cake covered in white icing with little swoopy things and flowers in pink and green and a big “Happy Birthday Stephanie” in red letters. The theater wouldn’t allow candles, but there were a couple of weird battery-operated lights that would somehow still turn off if you blew on them. Stephanie took a deep breath, made a wish (that her botanical oils would hurry up and start working their magic), and blew them out.

She’d expected yellow cake, but it turned out to be chocolate. It was very delicious. The girls were all happy about the chocolate cake, and Brian even said that chocolate was his second favorite flavor, after strawberry. Stephanie knew what he was referring to, and hoped that no one noticed her blushing.

After the cake, it was time for Stephanie to open her presents. She tried to set Brian’s little gift aside for last without calling too much attention to it. That put Elizabeth’s round heavy package on top, so she started with that. The card had a cartoon cat holding a bunch of balloons that popped out when you opened it; it was kind of neutral, not specifically a cart for a boy or for a girl. She had signed it, “Happy Birthday! — Eli.”

The present was a round box that looked to be made from a single piece of wood. If you gave the lid a quarter turn, it opened. The inside was lined with fuzzy green stuff, and there was a mirror glued to the back of the cover. Elizabeth said it was a jewelry box, but Stephanie could just use it for secret treasures when she went back to being a boy. Stephanie didn’t want to think about that, especially around Brian, so she told Elizabeth that it was very pretty and she’d gotten some real jewels from her parents for her birthday and now she had somewhere to put them. Elizabeth smiled broadly and said that she’d made it herself, with just a little help from her dad on the latch. Stephanie was doubly impressed. She hadn’t realized Elizabeth was so crafty. Steven had made plastic models but had never really gotten into woodworking. Stephanie almost started talking to her about making stuff, but then remembered there was still a pile of presents to get through.

Danielle’s card had a photo of some girl on the front singing into a microphone. Stephanie thought she looked kind of familiar, like she was famous. The inside part was a list of Seven Things to Love About Your Birthday, which was kind of cute. The little square present turned out to be a CD of Hannah Montana and Miley Cyrus in concert. She wasn’t sure who they were, but one of them was the girl on the card. She told Danielle she wasn’t that familiar with them, and asked if she’d know any songs from either of them.

Everyone laughed and Danielle explained that they were the same person, and then she started singing this “Seven Things” song and now the card made more sense. The rest of the girls all joined in, so she really felt out of touch. It even looked like Brian was kind of mouthing the words but pretending not to. Stephanie was kind of left out, but it was cool having a roomful of people singing for her. She clapped when they finished, and told Danielle that did sound like a fun song to dance to. She fluttered her eyelashes at her Daddy said that now she’d need a CD player for her room. Everyone laughed.

Kimberly’s card looked hand-made, like the kind Stephanie’s Aunt Jeannie makes with her stamping and scrapbooking skills. It said “Happy Birthday, Steph! Love, Kim” on the inside, and had a lot of sparkle to it. Her present was a blank book made of really nice paper, and a package of glittery pens in a multitude of colors. Kimberly said that every girl needed a journal, and Stephanie thought that writing down stuff about her life might be a good idea. She thanked Kimberly with a little hug.

Just like her outfit, Kayla’s card seemed aimed at someone younger. It had some cartoon girls with big heads and trampy clothes that said they were the “Bratz” wishing her a happy birthday. Her present was a stuffed animal, a fluffy white kitty. Stephanie actually kind of liked that. She thought it would look nice sitting on her bed between the pillows, and it was really soft to pet. They hadn’t had any pets since Mr. Mittens went away, and it was nice having a cat again. But it was actually more than a toy, as Kayla told her that it was a “Webkin” and Stephanie could go online and enter a code from the tag and create a whole virtual world for her kitty. It sounded kind of cool; Stephanie liked the idea of stepping away from the real world for a while.

Debbie’s card was more grownup. The girl on the front was some kind of funky teenager dancing and the inside told her to “party out on her B-day.” Debbie had enclosed a little credit card thing from the phone company in the card. She said it was so Stephanie could have some more air time on her phone so she could text message Debbie without feeling guilty. Mom seemed to like that, but Dad was kind of frowning. He told Stephanie to make sure she kept track of her minutes.

Debbie’s present present was another CD. It was the soundtrack to “Enchanted,” the movie they were about to watch. She’d already seen the movie, but it was good enough to go twice, and she said Stephanie would really like the music. Of course, now she definitely needed a CD player in her room. Debbie moved so she could get a thank you hug, too.

Brian’s card was kind of mushy. It said “To a special girl” and had roses on it. He didn’t sign “Love” or “XOXO” or anything, just “Brian,” but she knew. The little box had a silver charm bracelet in it. It was really pretty. Brian said that she could add more charms to represent Stephanie’s significant moments. It already had a little angel charm for the Christmas pageant that started it all, and a little tennis racket to symbolize the Nintendo Wii that got her in trouble. The last one was a little birthday cake with one candle, since this was Stephanie’s first birthday party, but before that was a little silver model of the Eiffel Tower. Brian said that was to commemorate Stephanie’s first date. She thought meant that Eiffel Tower was something French like the kissing they did and had a moment of panic about how to explain it to her parents, but then Brian told everyone that they had watched a DVD of Ratatouille, and that made sense. Stephanie would still think of it as representing the other thing. She gave Brian a kiss in appreciation, on the lips but with her mouth closed. He blushed a little, but she saw him lick his lips to taste the strawberries. Stephanie asked him to help her clasp the bracelet around her wrist, even though she probably could have done it herself.

Dad looked at his watch and asked the usher how long they had before the movie started. He said they had about fifteen minutes, so if anyone needed to use the restroom they should go. Debbie said they had to go to the ladies’ room, and pulled Stephanie along. Kimberly helped to herd the others in, too. Elizabeth seemed very reluctant but went anyway. Mom stayed behind to clean up the space. Dad gathered the presents to take them home. Brian went off to the restroom by himself.

In the ladies’ room, Debbie started cross-examining Stephanie. She could believe that she’d kissed Brian like that right in front of everyone. Stephanie tried to tell her that it was no big deal; they hadn’t opened their mouths or anything. That got all the girls’ attention. None of them had any experience with French kissing and wanted her to describe it. Stephanie realized too late that she’d said too much, but there wasn’t anything she could do about it. She tried to put into words how it felt to kiss with tongues, but she couldn’t really.

Elizabeth seized the opportunity and said that if they wanted to know what a kiss felt like there was an easy way to find out. She planted her lips on Stephanie’s and gave her a big wet kiss. Elizabeth’s tongue touched her lips, and she parted them ever so slightly. It wasn’t quite the same as kissing Brian but it wasn’t a bad feeling either. Stephanie was confused and very embarrassed.

Debbie wanted a turn, but Kimberly kissed her first, and then Danielle kissed Kayla, and it was very weird in the ladies’ room. Some old lady came out of a stall and they had to stop, but dissolved into an explosion of giggles instead. Stephanie commented that Elizabeth looked better with lip gloss, and they all giggled again. They had to wait for Kayla, who actually needed to use the facility, but then they went out to meet Stephanie’s mom and Brian and the usher, who were waiting for them.

The usher brought them into the theater. They had their own row. Stephanie made Brian go in first, then she followed, then Debbie, then Kimberly, then Elizabeth, then Kayla, then Mom. Bags of popcorn and drinks were passed down, and everyone settled in to enjoy the show.

The movie started as a cartoon, sort of a cross between Cinderella and Snow White, and it seemed like it was for little kids. But then the Princess (well, she wasn’t a princess yet, but you could tell she was going to be) started singing about kissing her true love, and that was kind of interesting. Stephanie wanted to sneak a kiss with Brian, but she thought her Mom was watching.

Not long after that the Wicked Queen Stepmother put a spell on the Princess and suddenly she’s in New York and she’s not a cartoon anymore. She was a beautiful girl in a really pretty wedding dress, and it showed off her boobs nicely. Brian seemed a little more interested. Maybe if her herbal oils started actually working, he’d like hers too.

In New York, the Princess ran into that dreamy doctor from the show Mom likes, and she wasn’t watching Stephanie anymore, but now Brian was watching the Princess’ boobs so she still couldn’t steal a kiss. She sang a song and had rats and cockroaches helping her clean the doctor’s (In the movie he wasn’t a doctor; he actually was a divorce lawyer like Stephanie’s dad. It’s too bad they left him at home.) apartment, and that was kind of icky, so Stephanie had to grab Brian’s arm to protect her from the bugs and stuff.

The Prince turned into a real person too, but he wasn’t as nice looking as the Princess. He had a little kind of real / kind of cartoony chipmunk with him that Brian thought was funny. And then this fat weasely guy working for the queen turned into a real person, too.

It was sweet and romantic, and you couldn’t tell if the Princess is going to end up with Dreamy Doctor Lawyer or the Prince, and then the Wicked Queen Stepmother showed up and there was a big dragon and it got all scary, and Stephanie had to hang onto Brian for real, and she looked away a couple times, and one of the times she was looking away he thought she was turning her face to him, so he kissed her quickly and she didn’t think her mom saw. It was nice, and they were talking about True Love’s Kiss in the movie, and Stephanie just kind of melted.

Mom wasn’t looking, but Debbie certainly was. She gaped at Stephanie, and nudged Kimberly, but by the time she looked Brian and Stephanie were no longer lip-locked, although they were holding hands.

The movie had a perfectly happy ending, and it really put Stephanie in the mood to want to snuggle her boyfriend, but the lights came on and Mom started gathering everyone up. The girls all had to go to the ladies’ room again, but this time Mom came with them. Stephanie could tell that Debbie really wanted to ask her about Brian, but she knew not to talk in front of her mother.

It was crowded in the bathroom so they had to take turns using the same stall. Stephanie thought about how Brian had probably already been in and out of the men’s room while she was still waiting in line. At least there would be one positive thing about going back, when she had to.

When they were all done, Mom herded the girls out to where Brian was waiting, and then brought them all out to the front of the theater to wait for their parents. Instead of the traditional “goodie bags” that moms pass out to party guests, she gave each of them a coupon book from the cinema, with free movies and discounts on the snacks and stuff. All in all, it was a pretty good day.

Stephanie’s Deal by Jennifer Brock On December 21, young Steven Brooks got in trouble with his parents and looked at his Christmas presents early. He made a deal with his parents to dress and act as a girl until school started in order to keep his new Nintendo Wii. Due to an accident, the school opening was delayed. It’s now Sunday, January 20, and Stephanie has been a girl for almost a month, and it really doesn’t seem like a punishment anymore. She’s got a boyfriend; she’s made some friends; she’s volunteered to be a junior bridesmaid in her cousin’s wedding; she’s interested in becoming a babysitter. And for the past two weeks she’s been trying to grow breasts. The school is supposed to be opening on Tuesday — will Steven be back? But first, Stephanie gets to celebrate her recent twelfth birthday with a party at her grandmother’s, on top of the other three parties she’s already had.

Episode 15

She was a Princess. A pile of blonde curls spilled out from under a sparkly little crown-thing. Her beautiful white gown was as wide as a church bell at the bottom, but at the top it held her tight with a nicely scooped out neckline showing off her impressive cleavage. She danced with her Prince at the ball for hours, until he finally got up the nerve to lean in for a kiss. She pursed her delicate lips and closed her eyes…

“Up and at them, Sleepyhead!” Mom was shaking Stephanie awake. “Your father wants to try out a new church this morning, and we don’t want to be late. Make sure you dress up nice.”

Stephanie rubbed her eyes and tried to wake up faster. A little too slowly for her mother, she scooted over and sat on the edge of her bed to put on her slippers. Mom grabbed her robe for her and helped her put it on, and then she shuffled off to the bathroom. Halfway through her bath, her mother knocked on the door and told her to hurry up. She made sure everything was clean, rinsed off, rushed through her ritual anointing with lavender oil, and did the best she could to make the hair dryer go faster.

Back in her room, her mother had laid out what she was supposed to wear. Stephanie figured that the new church must be kind of stuffy, because Mom had picked a really boring outfit: her white blouse, black skirt, white tights, black Mary Janes, and her light blue button-up sweater as the only bit of color. He mother had at least let her choose her own underwear. She knew the white blouse would need a camisole underneath, so she stuck to all-white with one of her padded bras, white panties, and a white half-slip as well.

She chose her jewelry set with the silver stars, and kept her make-up to just a little bit of pink lip gloss, and put the tube in her black patent leather handbag along with her phone, which she made sure to turn off first. She slid a white plastic headband over her hair and she was ready to go.

There was no time for a full breakfast so Stephanie had to eat a piece of peanut butter toast in the car. They got on the highway and drove three towns away, which seemed kind of far to go to a church; there were churches everywhere. She figured that there must be something very special about the one Dad wanted to go to. After her mother told her that there wouldn’t be much of a chance of running into anyone they knew, Stephanie realized that they were doing this for her sake. They were going far away so the people there wouldn’t know that she wasn’t really a girl. She felt guilty for causing so much trouble.

After a drive with more traffic than ought to be out on a Sunday morning, they pulled into the parking lot of The First Baptist Church of Morton. Mom picked out a pew near the back, and they kept to themselves mostly. Stephanie had to sit with her parents all through the service; they didn’t want to drop her into a Sunday School class for just one session without being sure if they’d be coming back. Grownup church was kind of boring, but it wasn’t that bad. They had a big fancy pipe organ and the music was nice.

The sermon was actually pretty decent. In honor of Monday being Martin Luther King Day, it was all about brotherhood and acceptance of people’s differences. The minister even mentioned extending Christian compassion to homosexuals, so she knew he’d be less likely to get as uptight as Pastor Moore, even if he didn’t say anything specifically about girls who are really boys.

On their way out, the minister shook their hands and said it was always nice to see new faces in the congregation, especially pretty ones. He had a big smile and winked at Stephanie. It was really embarrassing. He invited them to share in their refreshments, but Dad declined the offer. They got back in the car for the long drive home. Stephanie tried asking her folks what they thought about the service, but there seemed to be some unspoken tension between the two of them. When they got home they went into their room and talked loudly at each other for a while behind a closed door.

Stephanie remembered to turn her phone back on and saw that she had a text message from Debbie: “Nu ss tchr sux. Hvn fun adgo?” She didn’t know what that meant. She called her up (on the land line) and asked.

Debbie laughed when heard the question. “I said the new Sunday School teacher sucks, and wondered if it was more fun for you ‘actively defying God’s order.’ They’ve got Mrs. Cooper teaching our class now, and she isn’t very good at it. She’s trying way too hard to be cool and hip and failing miserably.”

“Oh. We tried going to another church today over in Morton.”

“How was it?”

“They seemed cool. The guy did a sermon about tolerance because of the holiday, and included gays in the mix. Way cooler than ‘defying God’s order.’ So, is your family planning anything special for tomorrow?”

“Huh?”

“You know, in honor of Martin Luther King?”

“Oh, yeah. Right, it is the great day when all my people gather to remember Dr. King. We’re probably going down to the ghetto to visit my Grizzamma and she’ll have cooked up a big batch of chitlins and greens, and hopefully my fourteen-year-old cousin Laquinta will be there and we can see her new baby. Maybe this one will be better looking than the other two; his Daddy was certainly finer than either of theirs. I’m not sure whether her brother Tyrone is supposed to get out of jail or not, but if he is I’m sure he’ll bring his crew round. At sundown we’ll gather on the stoop and spill a forty for Martin and Malcolm and all the other homies who came before us, know what I’m sayin’?” She waited a bit for Stephanie to reply, but when she didn’t Debbie just laughed uncontrollably. “Damn, Girl! You really are white, aren’t you? This holiday’s just another day off, really. Me and my Mom are probably just going to the mall to catch the sales. My Dad’s not going to spill a forty, but he probably will say something nice about Dr. King during grace before dinner tomorrow.”

“Your family says grace?”

“Sure, every meal. Doesn’t yours? Oh, right, you’re godless heathens now! I forgot.” She was cracking up again.

Debbie eventually calmed down enough to give Stephanie a thorough cross-examination about how far she’d gotten in her relationship with Brian. She tried to answer honestly without revealing too much. She wasn’t sure how many details a real girl would share with her friend. Stephanie wasn’t sure how long she’d been on the phone when Mom called her that it was time for lunch, and she realized how hungry she was. She said goodbye and promised to message Debbie later.

Lunch was a simple meal of tuna sandwiches and tossed salad, but it was like a feast to her poor empty tummy! She earned a look from her mother for eating too fast like a hungry boy, and had to slow down and eat delicately like a well-mannered young lady. She tried to make up for it by helping to clear the table when they were finished.

After lunch she went up to room and listened to one of her new CD’s. She’d found her sister’s old portable stereo in her closet attic space and had borrowed it. Her “Miley and Hannah” disk had some fun songs that really made her want to get up and dance. The stuffy church outfit she was in wasn’t made for moving around, so she took off her skirt and blouse and had fun wiggling and shaking to the beat in just her cami and half-slip.

She was surprised when her door opened and her Dad came in. He saw what she was wearing and turned his eyes away and got all flustered. He said that he’d come up to see if Stephanie wanted to play a game on the Wii, but she was busy so he started backing out. She told him that sounded fun, and said she’d be right down as soon as she changed.

She took off her slip and pulled on her good jeans, but then realized that the waistband of her tights was sticking out at the top, and she probably needed to switch to hipster panties. So she had to get even more naked in order to get dressed. Once she got her pants on, she swapped her camisole for a pink t-shirt with lace trim, and slid her feet into a pair of ankle socks and then her pink sneakers.

While touching up her lip gloss, she saw that the white headband really didn’t really go with the rest of her outfit, so she swapped it for her pink one. She wasn’t completely satisfied with how the silver star jewelry worked with everything, so she changed them all for the pink beaded set her Aunt Jeannie had made.

She trotted down to the family room and Dad looked at his watch and rolled his eyes, muttering something about women just above his breath. She gave him a little kiss on the cheek anyway, and then grabbed the other wiimote. She struck a pose and issued a challenge to take him on in Wii tennis. He laughed and accepted.

After she totally kicked his butt at tennis, they played this silly game about riding cows around a racetrack and crashing into scarecrows. Stephanie was having too much fun steering her cow off the road to catch up with her father, and he won the race easily. It was a stupid little game that didn’t make any sense, but it was a lot of fun. They were both laughing so loudly that Mom came to see what was so funny, but she didn’t really get it when they tried to show her.

At any rate, Mom said that Stephanie needed to think about starting to get ready for her birthday dinner at her grandmother’s. She’d need to change into something nice again, but it didn’t have to be the boring outfit she wore to church. She asked her mother whether she needed to dress up really fancy, and Mom decided she’d help her pick out what to wear.

They both went up to look in her closet. Stephanie’s first choice was the fancy pink dress she’d gotten for Robin’s tea party, but Mom said it wasn’t that formal a party. So then she tried the sophisticated navy blue dress she’d worn to Brian’s for New Year’s. Mom rated that one a “maybe,” but thought it might not be relaxed enough for family. Stephanie then tried her purple striped dress, and her mother finally approved it.

Mom wanted her to go back to the tights and Mary Janes she’d worn that morning, but Stephanie thought that would make her look more like a little kid and since it was her birthday she ought to try for something a little more grown up. She preferred going with pantyhose and her black pumps. Her mother thought about it for a couple minutes and decided she was right; twelve was old enough for heels and hose.

Stephanie really wanted to show off her new jewelry with the garnets, but they both agreed that they were a little too much for the occasion, and they didn’t go perfectly with her dress. Mom said she could compromise bye just wearing the earrings, and go with a plain gold necklace and bracelet. But a rummage through Stephanie’s jewelry box showed that all her other stuff was silver.

Stephanie was disappointed that she couldn’t wear any of her pretty new things, so her mother saved the day by lending her a gold chain necklace and bracelet of her own. They did work well with everything, and she thanked her with a big hug. All dressed up and put together, they tried a few different options for her hair, but ultimately decided to just let it loose.

The only real clash they had was when Stephanie started to put on her makeup. She wanted to go mature and sophisticated, but Mom said that would be way too much for dinner at her grandmother’s. They compromised, and Stephanie got to wear her brown mascara and eyeliner, but her mother put it on her so it wouldn’t be too heavy, and she gave her a light dusting of blush on her cheeks. Stephanie did get to pick out her own lip gloss, and she chose a glittery one.

She asked her Mom if she had enough time to change her nail polish, and they did but she’d have to help her so it would go faster. They went with a burgundy that matched the garnet earrings. Stephanie thought it looked more grown up than the baby pink she’d had on her fingers before. Mom even did it like a pro, with two layers of color and then a topcoat.

Mom thought Stephanie looked so nice that she needed to change too. Stephanie offered return the gesture and help her pick out something to wear. She couldn’t do anything with her hands while her nails were drying, so she sat on Mom’s bed and gave opinions when she held up dresses from her closet.

She decided to take Stephanie’s advice, and chose a nicely flowing soft dress with a loosely draped neckline. It was a sharp blue that brought out the color in her eyes. She surprised Stephanie by taking off her church dress and changing into the new one in front of her, and she didn’t even make her leave when she noticed that her bra was showing and had to switch to one that showed more cleavage.

It was weird that it didn’t feel creepy or anything seeing her mother’s breasts; she mostly felt envious that hers still weren’t growing. Maybe the herbal oils didn’t work, or maybe it just took a long time for boobs to grow. In the meantime, it was fascinating seeing how much a different bra could change the shape of Mom’s chest. The new one kind of squooshed her breasts together, but at the same time made them look bigger and rounder. She was sure that Dad would think Mom looked sexy in the blue dress with those showing.

She also put on higher heels than she’d worn to church, explaining that the more you needed to arch your foot, the better it made your legs look. Suffering for beauty was all part of being a woman. Mom changed her jewelry to some really cool pieces that featured gold filigree dangly things in a paisley shape. She freshened up her makeup, and Stephanie thought she did her own a little fancier than she’d done hers.

Then they went to tell Dad to put his jacket and tie back on. It was easy for guys to get dressed up; there weren’t so many levels of formal vs. casual. But it’s also kind of boring and less fun, and also they don’t have as much control over stuff. Like when Mom could pick a dress that showed off her boobs or revealed more or less leg, or how women get so many different options for how much arm to show; they could go sleeveless or cap sleeves or short sleeves or three-quarter sleeves, or long sleeves, or even sleeves that flare out past the wrist. But when they get dressed up men always have to wear sleeves to their wrists and pants to their ankles and tight collars around their necks. Dressing would be easier when she went back to being Steven, but she would probably miss all the options.

Dad said that Stephanie looked nice, but then he noticed Mom’s dress and kind of forgot that she was there. He tried to give his wife a big smooch but she turned away from him so he wouldn’t mess her makeup. It was cool that her parents were still into each other unlike so many broken homes out there, but it was embarrassing to watch. Stephanie thought about Robin’s messed up relationship with her father, and wondered if there was hope for saving their family. She made a mental note to give her a call after the weekend.

Dad went to warm up the car so his “lovely ladies” wouldn’t be uncomfortable. Sometimes girls really got a nice deal. They got to take their time getting their coats on and gave themselves one last check in the hall mirror before strolling out to the car. Stephanie wondered if she could be as pretty as her mother when she grew up. Wait, Steven wasn’t supposed to grow up to be a lady, but a man. This whole girl thing was really messing with Stephanie’s brain.

When they got to Grandma’s, Dad continued his chivalry by opening the doors for each of his ladies and helping them out of the car. He offered his arm to Stephanie to walk her to the door, but that just seemed too weird. Mom got to cling to him instead. Her grandmother met her at the door and told her she was getting prettier every time she saw her. Stephanie blushed and thanked her.

They hung up their coats and went into the living room. Mom’s dress earned a low wolf whistle from her cousin Dan, which earned him a poke in the arm from his future sister-in-law. Grace was looking as beautiful as ever, a blonde angel that seemed to glow from within. She smiled at Stephanie and told her she looked nice, and a warm feeling spread through her.

They had some light chitchat, and it was going great until Aunt Jeannie asked Mom about Stephanie’s party the day before, and she told her that trying to keep six girls and a boy together was quite a chore. Aunt Jeannie thought the boy she’d mentioned was Steven, but Mom had to go out of her way to explain that Stephanie had a boyfriend, and it was really embarrassing.

The only cool part was when Grace asked her to thank Brian (whose name had already come up) for letting his girl go dancing with her little brother every other Wednesday, and said that Christopher had been saying nice things about her at home; he’d be so disappointed to know she was taken.

Grandma had made a nice roast for dinner that was really good but almost too filling. There was a cake, but nobody wanted any right away, except for Dan. They decided to go do presents in the living room and then come back for cake afterward. Stephanie hadn’t even thought about getting more presents.

The gifts were interesting. Aunt Jeannie had made this cool scrapbook of fake memories. She’d taken some old pictures of Steven from throughout his life and PhotoShopped them into pictures from Stephanie’s imaginary childhood. It started with her in the hospital wrapped in a pink blanket, and then there was one from her first birthday with ice cream smeared all over her party dress and even into her curly hair. It was kind of freaky seeing the little-five-year old girl she never was all dressed up for her first day of kindergarten with pretty ribbons in her pigtails.

It got even weirder on the last page when there was a picture of a seventeen-year-old Stephanie all dressed up to go to the prom. Aunt Jeannie was trying to talk about how she’d used special software to age her, like they do with missing kids, but Stephanie was just too captivated by the image of what her future could have been if only she’d been a real girl. Her prom dress even showed a little cleavage, which made her more envious of the girl in the picture.

Aunt Jeannie said that she’d been considering going even further, showing her graduating from college and getting married and having a baby, but she ran out of time. Stephanie was glad she hadn’t taken it that far, as it would just have been more reminders of the impossible. She thanked her aunt for the peek into an alternate reality, and gave her a big hug.

Dan apologized after he handed Stephanie her present, a tube which turned out to be two rolled up magazines. He’d explained that he’d gone to a bookstore to find a present, and there was this cute girl working there so he flirted by asking for her advice on what to get his twelve-year-old cousin for her birthday. He wasn’t really thinking about Stephanie’s situation, so he ended up taking the cute salesgirl’s advice and bought her subscriptions to both Teen Vogue and Cosmo Girl for the next year. Stephanie said it was okay; maybe her sister would want to read them when she came home from college, but she hoped he at least got the cute girl’s phone number. He said he hadn’t, but maybe some Wednesday night they could stop by the bookstore after dance class and she could thank the nice girl for giving her awesome and dateable cousin such great gift advice?

Grace and Matt’s gift was in a big, low rectangular box. Their card said “Happy birthday to the Princessa of the dance floor,” referring to their Maestro’s nickname for her. Inside the box were three pretty dresses that Grace said should fit the rules for dance class. First, there was this pale blue dress with a really full skirt and a sash that tied in the back. The second one was kind of funky. It was a sleeveless dress in a really bold red and white floral print. And lastly, Grace said every girl needed an LBD, so she got her a simple black sheath dress. Stephanie thanked her, and Mom said it was too much, but Grace said Stephanie wouldn’t need dresses for dance class if she wasn’t already doing Grace a huge favor that could never be repaid.
.
Grandma’s gift was very precious. It was an antique porcelain doll that had been hers when she was Stephanie’s age, and she’d gotten it refurbished and dressed in pretty new clothes but in the same style from way back when. Grandma told Stephanie her name was Aimee, and both her girls had fought about who would get the doll for years, so she vowed to give her to neither of them, but her newest granddaughter deserved her. Stephanie realized what an honor it was, and wasn’t sure what she’d do with Aimee when she turned back into a boy, but it was too important to turn down. She fit right in with Angel Barbie and Hannah on Stephanie’s dresser when they got home.

All in all, it was a very big birthday for Stephanie. She’d gotten a lot of cool stuff, and had had parties will all her friends and her family and her boyfriend. When she took off the jewelry she’d borrowed from her mother, she put on her charm bracelet and thought about the wild trip being Stephanie had been. It was hard to believe she was supposed to go back to being Steven on Tuesday. She tried writing about it in her journal but she wasn’t sure what to say.

She undressed and rubbed smelly tea tree oil into her chest, then put on her nightgown. For the first time in a while she said her prayers before going to bed. Even though they’d kicked her out of church, she hoped Someone Upstairs was still listening.

Stephanie’s Deal by Jennifer Brock Twelve-year-old Steven Brooks got in trouble at Christmastime for peeking at his presents, and since he had to dress as a female angel anyway for the criss-crossed Christmas Pageant, his punishment was to spend his Christmas vacation as a girl. But that vacation was only supposed to last eleven days, and a fire at the school made it go thirty-one. Stephanie’s adventures this last month have found her volunteering to be a bridesmaid in her cousin’s wedding, learning to French kiss with her boyfriend, and trying to encourage her breasts to grow. This is the last day before the school is supposed to be reopening, and Stephanie will have to go back to being Steven. But does she really want to? In this episode, her confusion will cause her parents to seek professional help. This extra-long episode is very dialogue-heavy.

Episode 16
(Thanks to everyone who gave an opinion on whether a chatty chapter would be okay.
This is purely a work of fiction. No one should assume that the psychotherapy session presented is at all professionally accurate.)

You’d expect that the first day after having a celebration of your birthday four days in a row would be a bit of a letdown, but for Stephanie it was quite possibly the worst day ever. She got out of bed that Monday morning feeling kind of low, knowing that it would be her last full day of wearing pretty things. Sure, she’d be a girl again every other week at dance class, and maybe she could still wear nightgowns to bed, but she’d be losing her nice long fingernails and possibly her earrings. At least they wouldn’t be cutting her hair off like Robin’s.

She spent an extra-long time in the bathtub, since Steven would probably be back to showers, enjoying the bubbles while she could. After drying off, she desperately rubbed lavender oil into her chest for so long that her nipples went from pink to red. She dressed in her new blue dress and wore all her garnet jewelry, and pinned her hair back with her shiny barrettes. She carefully did her makeup to look nice but not excessive, using a light touch but choosing black mascara and eyeliner instead of her usual brown, and even a little bit of eye shadow.

Because of Martin Luther King Day, her father was still home when she went down for breakfast, even though she was so late. He said she looked pretty and understood immediately that Stephanie wanted to go out with a bang. They didn’t have any special plans for the day, so after breakfast she just sat and read. In the middle of the morning, the phone rang and Mom talked to someone for a while and then came to turn on the TV.

The local news was showing a special press conference on the steps of Franklin Roosevelt Middle School. The School Superintendent came on and said that the contractors who were supposed to fix the damage said that it wouldn’t be ready on time for the scheduled reopening on Tuesday. It was going to be another two weeks. She said that they knew this would be too great an inconvenience for many of the students and their families, so the School Committee had held a special meeting, and spoke with representatives of the private schools in the area. They decided to use some of the insurance money to make vouchers available to pay for any Roosevelt student to attend an alternative school that would accept him or her.

Parents of Roosevelt students were invited to come down to the gymnasium, which had been rebuilt and was completely safe. Transcripts and student records would be available, as well as admissions people from the other schools, ready to meet with them. Mom got her coat and left, telling Dad she’d call him if she had any news. Stephanie got a stomachache and had to go lie down. This did not feel like a good thing.

Dad made lunch (cheese sandwiches and tomato soup) so she tried to eat something and only ate half a sandwich and a few slurps of soup before asking to be excused. He tried challenging her to some Nintendo after lunch, but she just went back to her room.

Mom came home late in the afternoon and had big news. Steven had been accepted into St. Philip’s Academy for Boys. He’d just need to go in for a brief interview in the morning, and then it would be all set.

Stephanie’s face fell when she heard. “Is there a way to get out of it? I don’t want to go there.”

Dad jumped in. “Now your mother just spent hours standing in lines in a stuffy gym and that’s what you have to say? St. Philip’s is an excellent school. Ok, they’re Catholic. So you’ll have to sit through some religion classes about dogma we don’t necessarily believe in. But is that so bad?”

Stephanie’s voice went up a little. “You don’t understand. I can’t go there!”

Mom tried to reach out a comforting hand, but it was turned away. “Honey, I’m sorry. But that’s your only option. Maybe once you’ve tried it it won’t be so bad.”

Tears were welling up. “Isn’t there something else we could do? Please!”

Dad made another attempt. “Tell us what your problem with St. Philip’s is, and maybe we can help you find a way to make it work.”

Stephanie’s sobs were making her speech less coherent. “That’s where … Tim and Josh … They saw … but if … think he’s … can’t let … destroy him!”

He took a guess at what she was talking about. “Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll make new friends at the new school.”

“I can’t go there!” Stephanie shrieked. She was starting to hyperventilate. “They met … girl … so if … boy … Brian … ruined.”

Mom took a turn. “Oh! You’re saying Brian goes to St. Philip’s? But he’s been spending time with you dressed as a girl, and you don’t know if he’d still want to be friends when you’re dressed as yourself again? Don’t be silly. He knows you’re really a boy.”

“No!” She screamed and ran upstairs, locking herself in her room. They left her alone for a few hours while they discussed what to do. After a while there was a knock on her bedroom door. They tried to talk through the door, but it wasn’t working. Dad got a key and unlocked it and they went in. Stephanie was sitting on the floor in the corner, her knees pulled up to her chest. She’d been crying and had raccoon eyes.

Her mother tried to walk over, but Stephanie shrank away, so she sat down on the bed instead. “Sweetie, I called and cancelled your appointment with St. Philip’s. If it’s going to effect you this strongly, we’ll find another solution.”

Stephanie sniffled and relaxed a little. “Really?”

“Your father and I talked it over, and we think this whole girl/boy thing has been a lot tougher on you than we’d realized. We’re worried about you. Your father heard about a doctor who we think might be able to help you, help us all really, so we can figure out where we go from here.”

“A doctor?”

“A psychiatrist. She specializes in kids like you.”

“You think I’m crazy? Are they going to lock me up?” Stephanie tried to hide deeper in the corner.

“Oh, Honey! No, not at all. You’re not crazy, but we think you might be a little mixed up. Seeing you there, it’s clear that you’re hurting and we’d never want you to. If you had a stomachache, we’d take you to the stomach doctor. But since you’ve got an emotional pain, we want to take you to an emotion doctor. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Stephanie wiped her nose on her hand. “So do I have to be a boy or a girl when I go to the doctor?”

“Sweetie, you can wear whatever would make you the most comfortable.” Mom slowly walked over to Stephanie and reached down and touched her shoulder. She quickly swiveled and grabbed her mother, turning it into a full hug. “Now let’s get you cleaned up and then we can go downstairs for something to eat. I sent your Dad to get Chinese Takeout. Feel like sesame chicken?”

They had an awkward and cautious dinner. Dad brought the totes with Steven’s clothes in them up from storage, so he could wear them on Tuesday, if that was his choice. Stephanie opted to go to sleep in her nightgown, since it was more comfortable. She considered skipping her tea tree oil treatment for the night, but she decided that it would have made all that previous effort pointless if she stopped before getting any results.

The appointment with the doctor was in the morning, so there wasn’t a lot of time after the bath to decide whether to be a boy or a girl. Stephanie opted to wear girl clothes since her fingernails were too long to be a boy’s, but she played it safe by picking her most boyish things. She wore one of her training bras without padding and its matching panty. Over that she put on her nice jeans and her long-sleeved red t-shirt. In case it got cold, she layered her blue cardigan over that. She put her feet in plain white ankle socks and her pink sneakers.

She kept the little hoops she slept in in her ears, and wore her charm bracelet for luck, but that was it for jewelry. She wore her hair loose without any accessories in it, and almost didn’t wear any makeup. But it felt weird not to at least put on some lip gloss. She threw her things in her pink handbag, and took one last check in the mirror before going to find her mother. Even in almost boy clothes her reflection still shouted “girl.” She was still more feminine than Elizabeth Patterson, who had the tomboy look down perfectly.

Mom said she looked cute, and didn’t seem at all surprised to see that she still had a daughter instead of a son. She could tell Stephanie was nervous, and held her hand in the car. The doctor’s office was way over in Wallace. Apparently there weren’t enough psycho-freak girlboys for a more local practice. Stephanie focused on trying to stay calm.

It was a small medical building where several doctors shared offices. They hung up their coats and then they went over to a desk with this sweet old lady was the receptionist, and Mom said they were the Brooks, and had an appointment with Dr. Howard at ten. The lady said they were a little early and told them to have a seat. Stephanie tried flipping through a magazine, but her nerves wouldn’t let her. After waiting for what felt like a forever and a half, the receptionist called them.

Dr. Penelope Howard didn’t look like a real doctor. She was old, probably older than Mom, with shortish red hair and little square glasses. She was kind of heavy, and wore a big purple dress with yellow flowers on it. She led them to her office, which was kind of like Grandma’s living room with a couple tall chairs and a low couch facing a chair for the doctor. She didn’t have a desk or anything between her and the patient like they do in movies; she just had a little table off to the side with her notes and stuff.

She shook both their hands and said she’d spoken with Dad the day before, and he’d told her the general gist of the matter, but she wanted to hear it in person. She asked Mom what was the crisis that had brought them to her.

Mom was a little uneasy. “Shouldn’t we discuss this in private, just the two of us?”

The doctor shook her head. “For me, the most important thing in building a working doctor/patient relationship is trust. So I don’t want your child to think that you and I are sharing secrets and talking about her behind her back.” She turned to Stephanie. “You understand? I won’t be keeping anything from you.”

Stephanie nodded.

Mom took a deep breath, and then related the whole long story of how Steven got into trouble and was punished by making him dress up as Stephanie until school started, and then when she told him she’d gotten Steven into St. Philip’s, he freaked out. Mom really wanted the doctor to tell her that she hadn’t broken her child.

Dr. Howard gave her a reassuring smile. “Now I wouldn’t say that this unusual punishment was a great judgment call on your part, but it doesn’t seem like you did anything so traumatic that irreversible damage has been done to Stevie here’s psyche.”

Stephanie’s head tilted. “Stevie?”

“Sometimes your mother called you Steven in her story, and sometimes Stephanie. To make it easier, I figured I’d just call you Stevie, if that’s okay with you. It could be a nickname for Steven, like Stevie Wonder, or for Stephanie, like Stevie Nicks. (If you don’t know who those people are, raid your mom’s music collection when you get home.) Is it okay with you if I call you Stevie?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“All right then, Stevie. Do you think you could tell me why you got so upset yesterday at the idea of going to boys’ school?”

“Um, it wasn’t the boy thing. It was that I specifically didn’t want to go to St. Philip’s.”

“Oh, I stand corrected. What was it about that school in particular?”

“I met some boys that go there as a girl and if they knew I was a boy it would be bad.”

“I can see how that would be very embarrassing. If you could have explained that to your parents instead of throwing a tantrum I’m sure they would have understood.”

“I tried, but they weren’t listening.”

Mom tried to interrupt, but the doctor held up a finger to make her wait. “The way your father sounded on the phone last night, it seemed like there might be something more going on here.”

“I don’t know.”

“Can you apologize to your mother for your part in the miscommunication of the school issue?”

“Okay.” Stephanie turned to her mother. “I am sorry, Mom. I thought I told you and I guess I didn’t. It was like everything was falling apart.” She gave her a hug and didn’t want to let go. A couple of tears ran down her cheek.

Her mother held her and said, “I’m sorry too, Honey.” When they let go, she looked over, “I’m sorry to waste your time, Doctor. It seems like we overreacted. I suppose we can go now?”

Dr. Howard frowned. “Well, yes and no. I’ve got you scheduled for the full two hours I usually take with new patients, so if you could, I’d like you to go back to the waiting room, and I’ll talk alone to Stevie some more about this whole ‘boy vs. girl’ situation. Maybe we can figure out if there were some deeper emotions happening yesterday.”

“If you really think it’s necessary. I suppose I could.” She looked at her child. “Will you be okay alone talking with the doctor? I’ll be right outside; I’m not abandoning you.”

Part of Stephanie wanted to run off with her Mommy, but there was another part that thought that maybe the doctor could help with her confusion. “I guess I’ll be all right.”

Once Mom had left, the doctor started. “So, tell me what it’s been like for you having to dress like a girl everyday.”

“At first, I thought it was going to be tough. But after a couple of days being a girl, it just kind of got easier. There’s even some stuff that isn’t so bad.”

Dr. Howard could tell that her new patient was quite ready to open up completely. “You know, it isn’t bad or wrong if you actually liked something about life as Stephanie.”

Stephanie looked up at the doctor plaintively, her forehead wrinkled in worry. “It doesn’t make me some kind of gay sissy weirdo?”

The doctor shook her head. “No, it doesn’t. It makes you a three-dimensional human being. There's no shame for a male to get in touch with his feminine side. And I won't tell anyone you don't want me to."

Stephanie mumbled, “Okay.”

"So, was there anything about your time in dresses that you enjoyed?”

She looked at her shoes before answering. Would the doctor think she was weird if she told everything? “Um, I guess I kind of liked it that people kept telling me I was pretty. Not even family ever really told me how I looked when I was a boy, but as a girl even strangers say I'm cute.”

“I can see how that could make you feel good. Did it make you want to put more effort into looking pretty, so you’d get more compliments?” "Dr. Howard's warm smile was reassuring"

“Um, would it make me sound stuck-up or something if I said yes?”

“It’s not stuck-up to take pride in one’s appearance. I see you sitting there and it’s clear to me that your hair is neatly styled, and your manicure is flawless, and you’ve expertly applied your lip gloss. Those kinds of things take a lot of practice to get right, and it shows that you were willing to work hard to look pretty. I think that’s an admirable quality.”

Stephanie blushed. “Thanks. Usually I wear something nicer like a pretty dress or a skirt, but I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to be a boy or a girl today.”

Dr. Thomas noted on her pad that Stephanie kept phrasing it as “being a girl,” not pretending to be one or merely dressing up as one. She still wasn’t ready to make a diagnosis, though. “If you’d gone to the school today like your mother had originally wanted, yesterday would have been your last day in a pretty dress. Could that have been what was bothering you?”

Stephanie loudly took a deep breath in frustration. “No. I thought I explained what was bothering me. Mom wanted me to go to St. Philip’s and that would have destroyed Brian and I couldn’t do that.”

The doctor looked up in surprise. She flipped back through her notes. “You had said you were worried about being found out by some boys. Who is Brian and why would that have ‘destroyed’ him?”

Stephanie put a hand to her mouth too late. “Do I have to tell you?”

“It sounds like it’s important, so it would probably be useful to me, if I am to help you understand what’s happening to you.”

“Okay, but you can’t tell my Mom.”

The doctor leaned forward, as if sharing a secret of her own. “I’ll only share what you tell me in here with your mother if I think something is dangerous or harmful to you. Otherwise, your confidentiality is guaranteed by law. You can ask your father about the rules concerning doctors and patients. Even though you’re a minor, I’m under no obligation to tell your parents any of your private thoughts.”

Stephanie brightened a little now that she felt safe. “When I was in the Christmas pageant, this boy at church said that I was cute and asked me over to his house for New Year’s as like a practice date.”

Dr. Howard just nodded and gestured for her to continue.

“But when I went to Brian’s it felt more like a real date than a pretend one, and my sister had told me that couples are supposed to kiss at midnight as some kind of tradition thing, so we had a midnight kiss.” Stephanie was turning a little red and couldn’t look at the doctor while she was talking. “And before going to sleep we kissed a few more times, and even tried a kind he said was from France.”

“How did kissing this boy make you feel?”

“Um, I don’t know. It was a little scary at first, but I was being a girl on a date, and girls on dates kiss boys, so it just seemed like the right thing to do.” Stephanie bit her lip hesitantly. “But if I just stopped thinking about it, I kind of liked it. We did some more kissing the next morning.” Stephanie was afraid she wouldn’t have the guts to tell the rest of the story if she kept stopping for the doctor to ask questions, so she in one breath she added, “So then a couple weeks later he asks me over to just play videogames and hang out, and I get there and there’s these other two boys Tim and Josh who are his friends from school, and they let slip that when he went back to school he told them he’d kissed a girl over vacation and they wanted proof or something so he had us all over at the same time, and I was kind of mad but he said he was sorry and he just looked so cute I forgave him and he said I was his girlfriend and that was way cool and I kissed him in front of the other guys and so that’s why I couldn’t go to school with them, because his friends would think that Brian was a gay pervert, and he’d be ruined!”

Stephanie’s tears of frustration were starting to return, so the doctor handed her a tissue. “Wow. That’s quite a story. I understand why you’re worried for Brian, but I notice that you didn’t show any concern for your own reputation. Are you also afraid that they’d call you a ‘gay pervert’ too?”

Stephanie wiped her nose and pulled her little mirror out to make sure her lip gloss wasn’t smudged. “Tim and Josh are Brian’s friends, not mine, so I really don’t care what they think of me. At whatever school I go to they’re going to think I’m weird anyway, so it doesn’t matter.”

“What makes you say that?”

Stephanie shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s just the way it’s always been. I don’t really fit anywhere. Like, I’m too smart for the dumb kids; I spend most of class drawing in my notebook, but I get decent grades anyway. They tried to put me in with the smart kids and I wasn’t smart enough and they bounced me back. I just keep to myself mostly, sitting in the back and staying quiet.”

Penelope’s heart went out to this poor child, but she tried not to let her concern show too much. Stevie was so worried about not being normal that it would be dangerous to call attention to how significant that kind of social isolation could be. “Do you have any friends that you see during school, or even outside of school hours?”

Stephanie brightened some. “That’s one of the cool things about being a girl — I’ve made a lot of friends. I wasn’t really close to anyone before, but now I not only have a boyfriend, but there’s this girl Debbie from church who’s always texting me, and there’s this little kid Robin who’s a boy that wants to be a girl who’s almost like a little sister to me, and I’m closer to my actual sister than we ever were before. And I’m not sure if you’d call them friends, but I’m in my cousin’s wedding party and the other bridesmaids are always cool with me during dance class. I might even get to babysit the flower girl for the MOH.”

“And there wasn’t anyone you felt you could call a ‘friend’ before? That’s interesting. Do you think the person you present to the world when you’re acting female is somehow friendlier?” She took some more notes.

“I don’t know. I think it might be because when I have to be a girl I’m almost always asking myself how a girl would act. Well, more at first, but even now sometimes I do. Maybe I just think girls are friendly, so my idea of what a girl is is smiling and stuff? I never really thought about it.”

“You seem very mature and self-aware. That makes yesterday’s tantrum even more unusual. I suppose that’s a reflection of very strong feelings for this Brian. To explore that, I’d like to ask you some questions that might be a little uncomfortable, but please try to be honest. Did you ever kiss a boy before you dressed as a girl?”

“Eww, no.” Stephanie couldn’t meet the doctor’s eyes and had to look to the side. “Brian’s the only boy I’ve kissed, and it was only because I was a girl and that’s what girls do.”

Dr. Howard nodded. “Did you ever think about kissing boys before?”

Stephanie was getting a little irritated. “No! I’m not gay or anything like that; I’m just being a girl and girls have boyfriends, so I have one.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“It’s okay if you are. I’m not here to judge you. We’re trying to figure out how to help you, and so I needed to know how you feel about sexually, and I know it’s uncomfortable talking about things like that, especially with a grownup you just met, but it is important. Do you understand?”

Stephanie relaxed slightly. “I guess so.”

“All right, so I hear you saying that you were just pretending to be a girl when you kissed that boy, but earlier you mentioned that you liked kissing him and it felt good. So you may have kissed him for pretend reasons, but it doesn’t sound like you had pretend emotions. What you feel inside is always real.”

“Are you saying I actually am gay?” Stephanie’s voice was trembling.

“Don’t worry about labeling things. It’s perfectly normal for someone like you just on the beginning of adulthood to do some exploration. Maybe you’ll end up only having boyfriends in your life; maybe you’ll end up with mostly girlfriends; maybe you’ll have a few of each. But try not to get too hung up on whether to think of yourself as gay or straight for now. Like your boyfriend Brian, for instance — if he knows that you’re a boy in a dress, when he’s kissing you, is he gay or straight?”

“I never really thought about that. I figured since I was a girl, he was a normal guy. But I guess he did know my secret, so what does that mean?”

“It could be that he’s just experimenting, too. I can’t tell you what he’s feeling; I’ve never talked to him. Could you imagine wanting to kiss him when you’re dressed like a boy?”

“No way.” Stephanie tried to picture it, and it just seemed gross. She made an “icky” face.

“Okay, I’ll drop it for now. How about girls? Have you ever kissed a girl, or wanted to?”

“That’s kind of funny, actually.” Stephanie smiled. “I had a birthday party last Saturday with a bunch of girls from our old church, and we were talking about kissing boys in the girls’ room, and Elizabeth Patterson kissed me to see what it was like or something. But I think she’s gay. She dresses like a boy, and her present was a cool box she’d made in wood shop.”

Penelope sighed. She’d just finished explaining that labeling wasn’t productive and here’s her patient calling someone “gay.” Sometimes she regretted specializing in juveniles. “It could be that she’s a tomboy. Not all girls have to be extremely feminine all the time. And our society makes it a little easier for them than it is for boys who don’t want to be masculine. So, how did it feel to kiss a girl?”

“Well, I wasn’t expecting it, so it felt weird. She was a little more forceful than Brian, but it didn’t hurt or anything. It was kind of exciting, I guess. But I’d rather kiss my boyfriend.”

“When you say it excited you, do you mean sexually?”

“Huh?” Stephanie had a blank look.

“Did kissing her make you aroused?”

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“I know you keep your penis tucked away when you’re dressed as a girl, but did you get an erection, or could you feel it trying to?”

Stephanie turned red once it was clear what the doctor was talking about. “I’ve never had one, so I don’t know what it feels like, but I don’t think so. Brian had one once while we were kissing, but I didn’t.”

Penelope wasn’t sure if the lack of physiological arousal was typical in a pre-teen experimenting sexually. She’d have to consult the books and maybe ask an expert. “Oh. I suppose that covers all my sexuality questions for today. Let’s change the subject. Is there anything else besides kissing and dating that you’ve enjoyed as a girl that you weren’t able to do as a boy?”

“I really like being able to look nice. Girls have a lot more options in what they can wear, and they can change makeup and hair and stuff. It’s just so much better than being a boy and putting on any old shirt and pants and you’re done.”

The doctor took some more notes. “That is true. Women’s fashions do come in a wider range of styles. But it also sounds like you never really took put much effort into your appearance back when you were wearing boy clothes. Why do you think that was?”

“I don’t know. I was just lazy before? It was like I was just average as a boy, and now everybody says I’m real pretty as a girl, so I kind of don’t want to let them down.”

Penelope thought that maybe Steven’s lack of concern for how he looked was related to his general social isolation. And apparently with a change in gender affect, both traits were reversed. A selfish whim in the back of her head thought he’d make an excellent case study, but the front of her head just really wanted to help this poor messed-up kid. It was difficult maintaining clinical distance. In her heart she wanted nothing more than to give Stevie a hug. “Is there anything in particular that you used to do when you wore male clothes that you can’t do in female clothes, that you miss doing?”

Stephanie thought hard, tilting her head to the side and biting her lower lip while twirling a lock of hair around her finger, in a perfectly natural feminine pose that the doctor thought seemed unlikely to have been learned. Wrinkling her forehead, Stephanie said, “I can’t think of anything. I was never a real ‘boy boy.’ I didn’t play sports or anything, and I wasn’t the kind of guy to go play in the mud and catch frogs or whatever. I liked to draw, but girls can draw too. I haven’t drawn the same stuff since I became a girl, but I probably could. I liked to take models and build them into other stuff, and I haven’t done that lately, but I didn’t have any to work with. I don’t know if that’s a boy thing or a girl thing. I do a lot of reading, and I can do that as a girl. I’ve been borrowing my sister’s books.” She shrugged. “There’s a lot more stuff I do as a girl that I didn’t do as a boy than the other way around.”

“What other things are you able to do as a girl that you can’t do as a boy?”

“Well, I’m enjoying my dance class, even though my partner is sometimes a jerk. I guess I could have taken the class as a boy but the only reason I’m there is because I’m a junior bridesmaid. So I only got the chance because I was a girl. It’s also kind of easier dancing the girl’s part. You just have to follow along with what the boy is doing, but the boy actually has to figure out what to do next and he has to steer you around the room.”

“I’ve never heard that take on it before. Usually you hear the opposite, that it’s easier to lead when dancing. Like they say Ginger Rogers had to do everything Fred Astaire did, but backwards and in high heels.”

“Who?”

“Never mind. So, you’re currently learning the female role in ballroom dancing, and you’re enjoying it? Do you think you’d want to learn the male part eventually?”

“I don’t know. I think the boy’s side of things might be more work and less fun. And you wouldn’t get to wear pretty dresses and fancy grownup shoes. I guess I’ll have to see if I’ve got a reason to take dance lessons as a boy in the future.” Stephanie shrugged. “Anyway, that’s just one of the good things about being a girl. There’s a bunch more stuff I never did before. Like, my mom’s been making me do a lot of cleaning around the house, which isn’t so great. I don’t like dusting. But along with it, she’s been teaching me how to cook so I can help out in the kitchen. It’s really cool; it’s like making something that didn’t exist before, and I get to make my family happy. It’s nice to be useful.”

“Well you know, you don’t have to be a girl to cook. Flip on the Food Network some time, and you’re as likely to see a man as a woman hosting the show. For every Rachael Ray, there’s an Emeril Lagasse. Men have been chefs for years, from famous restaurateurs like Wolfgang Puck and Paul Prudhomme to old school TV guys like Graham Kerr. My mother was a big fan of Jeff Smith, the Frugal Gourmet. She has all his cookbooks.”

Stephanie’s eyes widened. “Jeff Smith wrote cookbooks? The Bone guy? I love his stories! I’ve gotten them all out of the library over and over again, even though I know what’s going to happen. I just really like the way he draws, and the characters are so cool! Thorn is so pretty and sweet, and the Dragon is just awesome. I even tried to read Moby Dick to see why Fone Bone thinks it’s so great, but it was way too boring. My Dad tried to take me fishing once, and I did not like it, and reading about trying to catch a bigger fish didn’t make it any more interesting. So I’m not sure if we’re supposed to think that in their universe Moby Dick is a better book, or if it’s supposed to show that Fone Bone isn’t perfect because his favorite book is this boring fishing story. Sometimes I think Smiley is easier to relate to. My favorite character is Ted the Bug, because he’s so easy to draw but somehow he still has a personality. I copied him over and over until I could get it right, and then I went on to the other guys. But, yeah. Jeff Smith is probably mostly what inspired me to try to draw my own comics.”

“Um, I think the communication lines got a little crossed here, but it’s good to see you excited about something. I’ll have to look up this other Jeff Smith and see what he’s all about. You never said anything about drawing comics before. How long have you been doing it?”

Stephanie’s hand went to her mouth. “Oops. I wasn’t going to talk about that. I like to think of them as my secret comics.”

Penelope made some more notes. “Why is that? Do you write about things in there you don’t want people to know about?”

“I don’t know. I just like having something that’s just mine.”

“Can you tell me at least what they’re about? Do you have some superhero fighting bad guys or something?”

“Sort of, but not really. It’s more of a magic story than a super story. There’s this kid Sam who has the power to make things happen in dreams, but there’s a monster that wants that power for himself, so Sam’s parents use a magic amulet to open a doorway to another world. For the most part it’s about Sam’s adventures in that other world.”

“That sounds very creative. Do you think maybe you could let me see just one of them next time you come here?”

“Next time?” Stephanie wasn’t expecting that.

The doctor explained that she thought it would take a few more sessions to figure out the best way to help Stephanie shrugged and said it was okay. They were almost out of time, so she called Mom back in and said that she wasn’t ready to make any kind of diagnosis yet, but there definitely seemed to be some issues that merited exploring. Stephanie would be coming back on Tuesdays and Fridays for at least the next couple weeks, and they’d plan on Steven going back to school at Roosevelt when it reopened on February 6th, hopefully without any more tantrums.

In the mean time, she gave Stephanie some “homework.” The doctor said that her impression was that Stephanie had gained a lot of social connections and Steven was probably afraid of losing all that when he went back to male attire. So the goal was to integrate the good stuff into Steven’s life. The doctor wanted Steven to wear some boy clothes for at least a couple hours a day, during which he was supposed to do something that he’d enjoyed as a girl while dressed like a boy. Also, Stephanie was supposed to do something that Steven enjoyed as a boy while dressed in girl clothes at least once a day. And Mom needed to make sure Steven still helped out around the house when he wasn’t being Stephanie, especially in the kitchen.

They agreed that the doctor’s requests seemed reasonable, and they were smiling as they drove home.

Stephanie’s Deal by Jennifer Brock Twelve-year-old Steven Brooks has been through a lot since that fateful day when he peeked at his Christmas presents and was sentenced to two weeks in skirts and dresses. It all snowballed out of control and at this point Stephanie’s been a girl for over a month now. She wanted to be helpful and agreed to be a bridesmaid in her cousin’s wedding, which meant she had to take dance lessons, which led her to try to grow breasts to prove to her snotty partner that she wasn’t a little kid. A pretend date at New Year’s ended up in her having a boyfriend she enjoys kissing, but that also meant she couldn’t go back to school with him as a boy or it would ruin his reputation. She just started seeing a psychiatrist to try to deal with it all, and the doctor gave her some assignments to do before their next appointment.

Episode 17

Wednesday morning, Stephanie took her bath and did her usual routine of rubbing lavender oil into her chest. There was still no sign that it was working, but she felt committed to keeping it up until she got results or the bottle was empty. She bundled up in her fluffy pink bathrobe and returned to her bedroom.

She looked at the plastic totes that contained Steven’s boy clothes. The doctor’s orders said she had to wear boy stuff for a while each day, and to make sure to do something she would have done as a girl while wearing them. Maybe it would be a good idea to get it out of the way first thing in the morning.

She took the clothes out of the bins, keeping them all neatly folded, and organized things into stacks on her bed. Even in boy clothes, she still wanted to look nice and didn’t just want to grab the first couple of things and call it an outfit. It would be better if things matched.

Stephanie took off her robe and stepped into a pair of underpants and worked on becoming a boy. After wearing girl panties for over a month, the briefs seemed extra-bulky, with thicker seams, and thicker elastics, and just more material all over. Plus, Stephanie had taped up after her bath out of habit so there was a baggy space in the front where the boy parts were supposed to be. It was probably wrong to leave the tape on, but it just felt better that way. Besides, the doctor had said to do things girls do while wearing boy clothes, so maybe peeing sitting down would count although that did seem a little like cheating.

Steven tried to shake the girl thoughts out of his head and focus on being a boy. He took a nice green and blue striped shirt off the pile, one of his nicer ones, and pulled it on over his head. It looked okay, but it was really uncomfortable. Stephanie’s nipples did not like the fabric at all. Maybe those oils really were working, or maybe they’d just become used to the cozy softness of a bra.

Steven took off the shirt and looked through the pile of boy clothes for something that would be as soft. He did have some undershirts for wearing under button-up shirts for special occasions. They were maybe a little softer than the other shirt. He decided that maybe laundry could be one of the girlish things he could do in boy clothes, and a wash with extra fabric softener would make the rest of his boy clothes more bearable in the future.

He put on the undershirt, but that sort of meant going with a dress shirt. He picked out a white shirt with blue stripes. Since it had been folded up in a box instead of hanging in the closet, it was a little wrinkled. He didn’t really feel like ironing, so he decided to put a sweater on over it.

He ended up getting a lot more dressed up than he’d planned, but a nice shirt and a sweater seemed to want nice pants. He wore a pair of navy slacks that his mother had gotten him for school but he hadn’t worn very often, sticking mostly to blue jeans.

Standing before the mirror in his boy clothes, he still looked like a girl. Stephanie’s hair was still damp from the bath, and it was easy to slick it back like Mom had done that time to make it pass for boy hair, so that wasn’t it. It might have been the earrings, but Steven didn’t have anything less obvious than the little hoops he’d slept in.

He decided it must be the nail polish, and used some remover to take all the color off. But then the acrylic extensions just looked too fake. He looked through all the colors of nail polish that Michelle had left for Stephanie and found this special kit where you could paint the bottom of your nails pink and the top parts white, just like their natural color. That didn’t really help. Instead of looking like plain ordinary nails, they came out fancy and shiny and just seemed to call attention to themselves. Steven decided he’d just have to keep his hands in fists — that’s something boys do, isn’t it?

He pulled boring tube socks over Stephanie’s pretty pink toes and stuck his feet into a pair of hiking boots Dad had bought him to encourage him to go on one of his and Michelle’s camping trips. They still looked new. He gave a last look into the mirror, trying to see a boy, and went downstairs.

It didn’t go well. When Mom came in while he was eating his cereal, she said he looked pretty. He had to explain that he was wearing boys’ clothes, and she got all embarrassed and said he was a handsome young man, but Steven could tell she didn’t mean it.

He was supposed to try to do girl stuff while wearing boy clothes, so he went onto the computer to play with the Webkin kitty Kayla had gotten Stephanie for her birthday. It was really silly and seemed like it was for little kids, But since Kayla had thought it was something girls their age did, he gave it his best shot.

Then he tried to do the laundry, but Mom made him do the delicates first, so all of Stephanie’s bras and panties had to go in. And that seemed to remind his nipples that they could be more comfortable, and his chest just got really itchy. He finally got around to washing his undershirts with extra fabric softener, but they were still in the dryer when Mom came to get him.

Like Dr. Thomas had told her to, she made Steven help out in the kitchen to get lunch ready. They were having creamy chicken gravy on biscuits, and he had to keep stirring the gravy to keep it from getting lumpy. Mom had made him wear an apron, which made him look girlier, and then the steam coming off the pot made the stuff in his hair let go, and she had to pull it back off his face with a scrunchie.

He nibbled his lunch neatly, and couldn’t even imagine trying to wolf it down all gross and boyish. It just tasted better when you took little bites and spent more time chewing and enjoying. But it seemed like the overall effect was that somewhere in the middle of their lunch, he turned into Stephanie.

So after cleaning up the lunch dishes, she went up to her room to get changed. No sooner had the door closed when she was stripped to the waist. She rubbed more of her tea tree oil where it hurt, and that seemed to take the raw feel, then she pulled on her softest training bra, then took off her boy shoes and pants and slipped into the matching panties. She lay on her bed in her underthings for a minute, and thought about what to wear.

She wanted to look pretty but not overdo it. She put on her girlish pink t-shirt with the lace trim, pink tights, and her denim skirt with a half-slip peeking slightly out from under it just to make it feel less like boy jeans. She wanted more heel, but wore her black Mary Janes anyway since she wanted to look casual. She kept her jewelry simple; a silver chain necklace, Brian’s charm bracelet, and the pink earrings Aunt Jeannie had made.

Stephanie took the scrunchie out of her hair and used a trick her sister had shown her where you lean down and brush your hair out upside-down to give it more fullness. It had just enough of the stuff she’d used to try to get the boy style left in it to make it behave, so she didn’t need anything else to hold it. A nice coat of glittery lip gloss, a couple strokes of brown mascara to each eye, and a drop of cologne, and she was done. It felt good to be a girl again.

The second half of her assignment from the doctor was to do something Steven the boy would have done while dressed as Stephanie the girl. She got out the metal car model kit that had been a birthday present from Mom and Dad and laid out all the pieces on her desk. There were some cool metal parts, but there were some regular plastic ones too. She saw them coming together not as a spaceship like Steven usually did with plastic models, but as more of an alien-looking futuristic castle this time.

But there was also a twinge of regret in the back of her head. Her parents had spent good money to get a special model; she didn’t want them to feel bad about it just being used as scrap for an art project that could just as easily have used any old junk. The least she could do is assemble the model first into the car it was supposed to be and show it to them, and then later on she could take it apart and make her castle, so she actually took the instructions out of the box for a change.

She worked on the model for a while, but had trouble paying attention. Something Dr. Thomas had said was still bugging her. When Mom called to get her to help with dinner, she had to shout twice to get her to notice. Stephanie carefully cleared her desk and put the unassembled pieces back in the box.

Dinner was kind of fun to make. They were having Swedish meatballs, with three kinds of meat mixed and kneaded together in her hands, and then rolled into tiny little balls. It felt almost like a little kid playing with modeling clay. It was messy work, but cool in its way. It turned out to be much more fun than peeling potatoes, which was what she had to do next. But after they were boiled Stephanie got to mash them, and that was another squishy happy thing.

The meal turned out pretty yummy, too. Stephanie wanted to ask for seconds, but wasn’t sure if that would be properly girlish or not. She decided to take a second helping, but to make it only half as big as the first one. To make it last longer she took the teeniest of bites and chewed very very slowly. She felt a little silly, but it did make the flavor stick around for more time.

After dinner, she was still feeling confused. There was a way to settle her worries, but she was scared of what the outcome would be. The nagging curiosity finally got the better of her, and she took the cordless phone up to her room to call Brian. She almost hung up when his mother answered, but she kept her nerve and identified herself when his mother asked who was calling.

Stephanie was very nervous. “Um, Brian? There’s something I’ve got to ask you.”

“Sure, what is it?” He sounded very casual and a lot more comfortable on the phone.

“Maybe I should start at the beginning. My mom tried to get me into your school.”

“That would be cool. And you’d look real cute in one of those plaid skirts the girls at St. Anne’s wear.”

“But that’s the thing. She didn’t get me into St. Anne’s; she got me into St. Philip’s.” Stephanie could almost hear the gears in his brain turn as he put together the same disastrous scenario as she had. “But don’t worry — I’m not going. I explained that it would be awful for you if your friends saw me as Steven after having met me as your girlfriend Stephanie.”

“Thanks, I guess.”

“You’re welcome. Anyway, I sort of threw a fit when I was refusing to go to St. Philip’s and my parents made me go see a shrink.”

“Really? Are you okay now?” The concern in his voice was touching.

“I’m mostly okay. It’s just the whole ‘boy or girl’ thing that’s got me really confused, and this doctor is supposed to be a specialist in that or something.”

“Is the doctor going to make you stop wearing dresses and stuff?” Brian sounded worried.

“I hope not. Everybody says I’m better as a girl, so she just needs to make it official or something. Would you like it if I was a girl all the time?”

Stephanie wasn’t sure, but Brian seemed to hesitate. “Um, I guess so.”

“Because when I was talking with the doctor about what I liked about being a girl, I mentioned you, well not with like details and stuff, or giving her your name and address, that’s private, but like I told her that I like that as a girl I get to have a boyfriend, and I gave her the rough idea of our first date, how you asked me out at church and stuff. And anyway, she asked me something that I hadn’t even thought about.”

“What’s that?”

“Well, she said that since you knew I wasn’t a real girl when you asked me out, do you like me because I’m a girl, or because I’m a boy?”

There was a noticeable silence on the line for a while before Brian answered. “I thought you were the prettiest girl in the church, really. And you looked kind of nervous, and I figured my Mom would be more willing to let you come over; you were safer than a girl girl. And if you said no I could pretend I was just kidding around with you, but you didn’t and that was great!”

Stephanie played with her charm bracelet and remembered their first date. “So like when we were kissing that time and your thing poked out at me, you were having sex thoughts of me as a girl?”

“Um, yeah. I guess.”

“So if the doctor decided I should be a girl all the time and they turned me into more of one, you’d be okay with that?”

“What do you mean?”

“They could give me drugs and stuff that could make look like a real girl with boobs and everything.”

“Really? I’ve heard of high school girls who get their tits done for prom, but do they really give implants to someone our age?”

“No, not fake boobs. Real ones. The doctors could inject me with hormones and junk to make my body develop just like any other girl. My sister said there’s a girl at her school who used to be a boy, so I looked up some stuff on the internet.”

“Are you sure you’d want to be a girl forever?”

“I don’t know. But Dr. Thomas is supposed to figure that out for me, I think.”

“Well, if you did grow a nice set of tits, I’m pretty sure that as your boyfriend that means I’d get to touch them. Can you ask them to give you really big ones?”

“Oh really?” Stephanie laughed, but she also wondered what it would feel like to have someone else touching her breasts when she got them. Her sensitive nipples ached, as if asking for attention. “And I suppose that if the doctors cut of my boy parts and gave me girl parts down there, you’d feel entitled to being able to touch that, too?”

“They can do that? Wow.” Brian seemed to lose some of his cool in the surprise, but he recovered. “I mean, if you had a real girl’s thing, that would be awesome! Sure, I’d want to touch it; I wouldn’t be much of a boyfriend if I didn’t. We could even have sex and stuff when you were ready. (My dad says never to pressure girls, so I won’t do that.)”

“So I suppose you should thank him for me. Anyways, I think that’s probably a while off even if the doctor says to do it. But I guess it’s good to know that you’re ready to claim access to any of my parts if I should have them.”

Brian read her tone of voice and realized that he might have said something that annoyed her. “Um, I’m not just assuming things for myself. As my girlfriend, you have the same kind of rights. You should feel free to touch any part of my body any time you want to. If we’re alone and stuff, you can even put a part of my body in your mouth, like I hear a lot of girlfriends like to do.”

It took Stephanie a few seconds to decode what he was talking about. “Ewww, no! The only part of you I want in my mouth is your tongue; I do like kissing you.” She smacked her lips into the phone.

“Real girls do it for their boyfriends all the time, so you might want to try it. You never know, you might even like it. Some girls like it so much they go to rainbow parties where boys compete to collect the most colors of lipstick on their junk; Tim’s brother knows a guy who’s been to one of those. But, whatever. I do agree with you that kissing is good, and you have my permission to kiss me whenever you want to. I wish I was kissing you right now.”

Stephanie made a little kissy noise into the phone again. “That will have to do for now. When can I see you again?”

“Want to come to my Super Bowl party?”

“When is that?”

“It’s two Sundays from now — gee, you really are a girl, aren’t you?”

“Thanks! I’ll have to ask, but I’m pretty sure I’d be allowed to go. Which team are we rooting for?”

“Well, the Patriots are undefeated, so they’re probably going to win again. But my Dad and me are Giants fans.”

“So what color should I wear?”

“Oh brother! Both teams wear pretty much the same colors: red, white and blue, so this is one game where you can’t mess up and wear the other team’s colors. But the Giants ought to be in their red uniforms for the game, so red would be fine. Really, you’ll be pretty in whatever you wear so it doesn’t matter much.”

“Awww, you’re so sweet! That almost makes up for before.” She gave him one last kiss into the phone. “Okay, I guess I’ll say goodbye for now. See you later, Sweetie.”

“Bye.”

Stephanie hung up feeling a little less confused about who she wanted to be, but a lot more scared. Talking with Brian, she hadn’t even remotely considered going back to being Steven full time; she was sort of planning becoming Stephanie for real forever. She had another appointment in two days, and hopefully Dr. Thomas would help make it less scary. Or maybe she’d be trying to talk her into being a boy again.

That evening, she put on her softest nightgown after taking extra time to rub tea tree oil into her poor suffering nipples. She imagined that Brian was touching them, and wondered if he’d like them or complain that they weren’t growing fast enough. It probably wasn’t normal for a boy to lie in his nightie hoping his boobs would grow and trying to picture what it would be like to have a girl place where his boyfriend could stick his thing, but Steven had never really been “normal.” As a girl, could Stephanie be more normal? She certainly had more friends, so maybe.

Stephanie’s Deal by Jennifer Brock Five weeks ago, Steven Brooks was an eleven-year-old boy who peeked at his Christmas presents. Due to his participation in a strange cross-dressed pageant at church, his punishment was to live in girl’s clothing until school started. But school was delayed, and the punishment stretched out, and situations arose that caused him to get deeper and deeper into his role. Now, Stephanie Brooks is a twelve-year-old girl seeing a psychiatrist to figure out what’s to become of her.

Episode 18

After waking up, Stephanie just lay in bed and stared at the ceiling for a while, trying to decide who to be that morning. Steven had tried to begin the previous day as a boy and it hadn’t gone well. But if Stephanie started out as a girl, would she have to wash off all her girl stuff later in the day before she could put on boy clothes. Maybe she should skip her bath this morning. But it felt better to feel all clean before putting on her pretty things. She was supposed to do boy things as a girl and girl things as a boy, and Steven had been taking showers instead of baths, so she decided to be a girl that morning but take a shower.

It was only about halfway through her shower, when she’d already shampooed her hair twice and the conditioner was sitting in it, that she realized how impossible it was to be dressed as a girl while in the shower. Her tape even came loose and her obvious non-girlness popped out, but somehow that didn’t change her mind; she had started her shower as a girl, and she was going to finish it as a girl, no matter what. She leaned back and let the water hit her chest, and she swore that her nipples felt it more strongly than before she started her herbal oils. She closed her eyes and imagined having large, full breasts reaching out to catch the droplets. They’d better hurry up and grow already!

Out of the shower, she spent extra time rubbing lavender oil into her chest since she hadn’t bathed in it, and even swallowed a sip of that gross tea-tree oil. It didn’t taste at all like tea! She put her robe on and blow-dried her hair the way her sister had shown her to do it. Her hair came out fuller and bouncier than usual. She decided to just leave it that way, without any ribbons, hair bands or barrettes.

She wanted to look nice but comfortable, so she dressed in her matching purple knit top and skirt, with black tights and her black Mary Janes. She wanted a little bit of makeup, so she did her lashes in brown mascara and gave her cheeks a light dusting of blush, finishing off by coating her lips in shiny pink gloss.

Mom seemed a little disappointed that she hadn’t tried to be a boy again, but Stephanie assured her she intended to follow her doctor’s instructions, just later in the day. She said she’d wear her boy clothes when it came time to help with dinner, and that seemed to satisfy her.

After breakfast, Stephanie went up to her room to work on her model car. She got so tightly focused on her project that when she stopped for lunch it came as a shock to look out the window and see that it was snowing. It apparently had been snowing for a while, since everything outside was coated with a thin layer of vanilla frosting. It stopped around 2:30, and she decided that it would be nice if Dad came home to a clear driveway, so she told her Mom she was going to go shovel.

Of course, shoveling meant she’d have to change her clothes. That meant a decision was needed. She was going to have to put on boy clothes later anyway, so she could just be a boy to clear the snow, too. Or she could change into different girl clothes and be a girl to clear the snow and then later take off her snowy stuff to be a boy for dinner. The doctor had told her to do boy stuff as a girl and girl stuff as a boy, and clearing snow was kind of boy stuff, so she decided to change but stay a girl.

She took off her skirt set but kept her tights on, thinking they’d be warmer under her pants than just socks would be. On top she wore her red long-sleeved t-shirt, and on the bottom she pulled up her light blue jeans with the wide flares that would fit over her pink snow boots. They were kind of tight, and Stephanie wondered if they made her butt look like the kind boys like to see.

She went down to the front hall and put on her pink jacket, hat, scarf and gloves and a look in the hall mirror confirmed that there was no doubt she was a girl. She looked like a Snowbunny Barbie or something. She poked her head into where her mother was working and said she was going out to clear snow. Mom had to look up twice and told her she looked very cute, and was even laughing a little.

Stephanie went into the garage and grabbed a snow shovel then pushed the button to open the door. She figured it would be easiest to start at the top of the driveway and work her way to the street. There was maybe four or five inches of snow, not a lot but enough so that it would have been a problem for Dad’s car. He should have taken Mom’s SUV, then he could have just gone into four-wheel drive, but he didn’t. But then Stephanie couldn’t have done a nice thing for him and cleared the driveway.

The snow was pretty light and didn’t stick together or get all slushy, so the shoveling wasn’t too bad. That is, until she got to the street. The snowplow had made like this giant ice dam across the bottom of the drive. She chopped at it with her shovel for a while, but it was really tough going.

She heard a shout from next door, “Anthony, go help her!” Stephanie looked up and saw that Tony D’Amico was in his driveway shoveling too. He was like sixteen and in high school. Stephanie’s sister was older than him, but she’d had like a crush on him when he was a freshman and had done something important in a football game. His mother was standing in their doorway pointing at Stephanie.

Tony came over and made light work of the pile of ice with his shovel. Stephanie thanked him for his help and he smiled and she kind of understood what Michelle saw in him. He had really pretty eyes and amazing muscles and she felt a little weird inside. He asked if she needed any help on the rest, and she said she was okay to do it alone. He turned to go and said, “See you around, Cutie!” and her knees got a little wobbly but she managed to stay upright.

The rest of the job was pretty easy, but there was a lot of it. The repeated motion of her arms and shoulders really made her notice that she was wearing a bra, especially when her chest muscles would flex against the cups. In order to avoid being overwhelmed by how much needed to be done, Stephanie made a game of it. She’d work on a little section at a time, and then guess how many shovelfuls it would take. At first her estimates were way off, but after a while she got better at judging how much snow was there. For the last few bits of driveway, she tried going in reverse and guessing how far she’d get in fifteen shovels.

She finished the driveway and still had the front walk to do when Mom called her in to take a break. She was worried that Stephanie had spent too much time in the cold. She made her sit in the kitchen so she didn’t drip snow all over the house, and gave her a nice big mug of hot chocolate with three marshmallows. It was yummy! Mom told her that the cold had really brought out the pink in her cheeks and it looked very cute, but she wouldn’t let her leave the kitchen to go look in the mirror.

She asked for permission to go to the bathroom, but she had to leave her boots in the kitchen. Her cheeks were really pink; Mom was right. But she didn’t know that Stephanie was wearing blush and it wasn’t all from the cold. Her coat of gloss had served to keep from getting chapped lips, even better than lip balm. She also learned that wearing tights under jeans made going to the bathroom very frustrating. She had to peel back all the layers, and her jeans were a little wet which made them clingier.

But nevertheless, it did seem like sitting down felt more comfortable. Standing like a boy just seemed so much messier; they didn’t even wipe. Stephanie decided that even if she had to go back to being a boy all the time, she would still sit to pee. It was obviously the better way to do it. She pulled her panties and tights and jeans back on, and then washed her hands. After a quick check in the mirror to fix her hair and redo her lip gloss, she went back to the kitchen to get her boots and outerwear back on before returning to work.

A thought hit her. They weren’t surprised. She got her mother’s attention. “Mom, when I was out there, Mrs. D’Amico made Tony give me a hand with the messy stuff at the end of the driveway.”

“That was nice of them. I hope you said thank you.”

“I did.” Stephanie shook her head to get back on track. “But wait, what I just realized is that neither of them seemed surprised that I was a girl. How come?”

Mom smiled. “Honey, you’ve been coming in and out of the house in skirts and dresses and makeup for over a month now, and you didn’t think the neighbors would have noticed?”

“Oh. I hadn’t really thought about that. But why were they acting like nothing was weird? They both just treated me like a real girl.” She didn’t mention that Tony had said she was cute, but remembering it made her blush anyway.

Mom shrugged. “I don’t know, Sweetie. Maybe they figured you were just some girl that’s been living with us for a while, like a niece or something. Or maybe they know it’s you but don’t have a problem with it. We live in a small town, so they could have talked to someone from church who knows your story. If they didn’t bring it up, I don’t think you need to worry. Now I want you to come back in if you start feeling too cold, okay?”

Stephanie nodded and gave her a little hug before going back out through the garage. She grabbed her shovel and set about clearing the path from the driveway to the front door, and then the walk from the front door down to the sidewalk. There was some kind of law where people had to shovel the sidewalk in front of their houses even though the town owned it, but someone else had already done it. The way it was cleared looked like old Mr. Reynolds might have done it with his snowblower.

All she had left was the path on the other side of the driveway around to the back door. It was easy to do; the snow was light and fluffy. When she had the walk finished and she was all done shoveling, a silly impulse hit her. She jumped out into the smooth whiteness of the backyard and lay down. She hadn’t made a snow angel since she was a little little kid, but for some reason it seemed like a fun idea. She did the “jumping jack” motions and then carefully stood up and tiptoed away to avoid messing her impression.

Mom was in the garage waiting for her. She was laughing, and said she saw what Stephanie had done. It was pretty, but she couldn’t come into the house with her back covered in snow. She made her leave her coat and boots and hat and stuff in the garage, where Mom hung them up on the back wall. She even made Stephanie take her wet jeans off, which she threw over the railing on the stairs.

Stephanie was ready to go back in the house, but Mom pointed out that she hadn’t been very careful when undressing and had stood in a puddle, so her tights would have to come off, too. It was a little embarrassing to be in just her t-shirt and panties, but Mom was a girl too, so it wasn’t too bad.

She did seem to have a weird look on her face, though. Stephanie asked what was wrong, and Mom said, “Sorry, Honey. It’s just that you look so natural, even half-dressed, that sometimes I have to remind myself you’re not really a girl. Go get changed and you can help me finish dinner.”

Stephanie scampered off upstairs, and thought about what she wanted to wear. She was supposed to be doing her helping out in the kitchen as a boy, so she really shouldn’t have kept her girl stuff on, but she figured no one would know and kept her panties and training bra on. To be extra careful that Mom wouldn’t see her bra, she layered over it an undershirt, a rugby shirt, and the thickest sweater Steven owned.

She just pulled a pair of old jeans over her panties, but they fit weird after spending all that time in girls’ pants, but she was sure they’d feel normal again after a while. She pulled on a pair of white tube socks, and then almost put on her pink girl sneakers instead of Steven’s grungy old ones.

Stephanie went into the bathroom and washed her face to get the makeup off. If it were up to her, she’d stay pretty all the time. But the doctor told her she had to wear her boy clothes for a couple hours each day. If that was supposed to make her want to be a boy all the time again, it wasn’t working. She had to make her hairstyle go boyish, too. She got out the hair gel and slicked it back like she’d been taught.

A check in the mirror showed that she’d forgotten to change out her earrings. She swapped her dangly ones for the silver star studs that started this whole thing. She also very nearly left her charm bracelet on. She liked wearing it; it reminded her of her boyfriend. But she was supposed to be Steven now, and he didn’t have a boyfriend.

Steven sighed and went down to the kitchen to help get supper ready. He tried really hard not to walk like a girl, and it seemed like Mom noticed he was being a boy. It looked like she was going to offer him an apron to wear, but she hung it back up without saying anything. She’d put a lasagna into the oven while Stephanie was shoveling, so she put Steven to work making garlic bread to go with it. It was kind of fun mixing up the melted garlic butter then brushing it across the sliced Italian loaf.

Dad was tired when he got home, and expressed his appreciation for the cleared snow. It almost felt wrong for Steven to get credit for a chore that Stephanie had done, and he wished he was in a skirt so she could kiss her Daddy on the cheek to say he was appreciated, too. It would be easier to be just one person and not have to bounce back and forth. She had another appointment with the doctor in a day, and hoped that she’d tell her she could dress however she wanted.

After dinner, Dad had some work to do and Mom wanted to watch her shows, so Steven was left to fend for himself. He was supposed to do something girlish while in boy clothes, but couldn’t really think of anything. He decided to fudge the rules a little, and painted his nails, something a girl would do, but also probably not what the doctor meant. Stephanie’s toes went from a baby pink to a darker cherry red, and then her fingers followed. By the time they were dry, she figured her hour was up and she could get out of Steven’s stuff and back into her own.

But it was night, so she just hung out in her room in her nightgown and robe for a while. She put a CD in and practiced singing along, using the lyrics from the little booklet that came with it. Miley was a pretty good singer, and her songs were fun, whether she was singing them or Hannah was. Stephanie thought about writing her a fan letter, since she also knew what it was like trying to be two people. One of her was even blonder than the other, just like Stephanie. But Miley was like a big famous singer/actress/movie star and probably wouldn’t write back. Stephanie was stuck getting advice from Dr. Howard.

The next morning, she spent some time rummaging in her little attic to get her secret comic books out for the doctor. She kept them in a printer paper box (Mom goes through a lot of those during tax season) tucked away behind some boxes of old homework. Stephanie made sure she had the issues in order and none were missing. She wasn’t sure why the doctor wanted to read it, but she didn’t want her missing any part of the story. The doctor wanted to see her art, so she put a couple of her model spaceships made from other models in the box.

With that out of the way, she was ready to get dressed. The last time she saw the doctor, she dressed kind of in-betweeny since she didn’t know if the appointment was for a boy or a girl, but for her second appointment she wanted to look her best for the doctor. She wore her padded bra, to give her hopefully budding figure a hand, and a full slip under her favorite purple striped dress. She went with white tights and planned to wear her black Mary Janes unless it was still messy out and her snowboots were called for.

She brushed her hair out as full as possible, and then put on a black ribbon hairband. She wanted to wear her good garnet jewelry, since it was her best, but it was just too fancy for a regular day. She opted instead to go with the pink beaded set her Aunt Jeannie had made for her for Christmas. She was pretty sure that pink and purple worked okay together. For luck, she added her charm bracelet on the same wrist as her pink bracelet, and put her watch on the other side.

She did her makeup a few times before it came out right. Her brown mascara was just a little heavier than the day before, and she put it on both her upper and lower lashes. Matching eyeliner in the thinnest line she could draw went on the upper lid only, and she finished her eyes with a light coat of pink eye shadow. A little blush went on her cheeks, just enough to keep her nervous face from looking too pale, and she used her reddest gloss to bring color and shine to her lips. She double-checked in the mirror to make sure she hadn’t overdone anything, and felt satisfied that she hadn’t. The girl that looked back at her was pretty and stylish, but didn’t seem too much older than Stephanie’s real age.

Dad hadn’t left for work yet and was still around at breakfast. He told Stephanie she looked very pretty, and asked what the special occasion was. She was kind of embarrassed to tell him that she wanted to look nice for her therapist. Mom pointed out that her appointment wasn’t until after lunch, and she felt a little more silly but looking pretty was fun anyway.

Looking pretty also meant she couldn’t do anything too messy or active or her outfit would suffer, so Stephanie spent her morning sitting upright in one of the good living room chairs, reading one of her sister Michelle’s old books. It was a paperback novel that looked like it might be interesting, a romance set in the olden days about a proper lady and a rugged man. She quickly became absorbed into the story, but it started getting kind of raunchy and she had to put it down. Michelle actually liked reading this kind of stuff? Stephanie was kind of curious about the things the guy in the story was doing to the heroine, but she couldn’t quite picture everything that was described. Mostly, it made her feel jealous that she didn’t have all the same parts as the lady in the story.

To keep her dress looking nice, Stephanie wore an apron when it was time to fix lunch. They had chicken salad sandwiches and alphabet soup, a light meal but tasty. Stephanie was feeling really nervous, so she didn’t eat too much. Mom tried engaging her in light conversation, but her mind was a little too distracted.

After lunch, she went upstairs and freshened her makeup and redid her hair. She tried three different styles before settling back on the one she’d started with, but arranged a little more neatly. She liked the way that headbands made her hair look fuller in the back. It looked like a real girl’s hair, but she thought it would really look better if it were to grow longer. She hoped she wouldn’t have to go back to dumb boy short hair, at least not before the wedding in June, but maybe she wouldn’t be allowed to let it grow any longer either.

She grabbed her box of art and went down to the living room to wait until Mom said it was time to go. She made Stephanie change into her snow boots and get her coat, and they got in the car and drove to Dr. Howard’s office. When they checked in, the receptionist took a second look at Stephanie; she must have been expecting a boy. She felt very self-conscious sitting in the waiting room until it was time for her appointment. She tried flipping through a celebrity gossip magazine, but couldn’t stop feeling like everyone was staring at her.

The lady finally called their name, and they went in to see the doctor. Stephanie put her box on the table and sat down, smoothing her dress beneath her. Dr. Howard noticed her appearance. “You’re very dressed up today, Stevie. Was this your mother’s idea?”

Stephanie shook her head. “No, I just wanted to show you that I could look good as a girl. Last time I dressed kind of general, but I really like looking prettier. I feel better this way.”

She smiled at Stephanie. “That’s very interesting. Why do you think that is?”

“Well, I know that girls can wear jeans and t-shirts and sneakers and still be girls, and sometimes I do. But I guess I’m like more comfortable if I’m in something that would say to anyone who sees me that I’m without a doubt a girl.”

“You’re afraid of being discovered?”

Stephanie shrugged. “Maybe, but I think it’s more that I just feel better as a girl and don’t want to have to go back.”

“In our last session, I told you to experiment with wearing your old male clothes and seeing if the things you liked about yourself when you dressed up as a girl were still there. Did you try that?”

“I did, but I don’t think it worked.”

The doctor wrote something on her notepad. “Why is that?”

“It’s weird. Trying to be a boy again felt more like pretending than being a girl does now. It just wasn’t me anymore.”

“Did becoming your old self again get easier the more you tried it?”

“Not really. It’s like I never really made sense before and didn’t know why. But now I’m a girl and it all just clicks, like that’s what was missing. And going back to having something missing seems wrong, now that I know it can be better.” Stephanie fought to keep back a tear; she didn’t want to mess her mascara.

Mom put a hand on her shoulder, and it surprised her; Stephanie had forgotten she was even there. “Honey, I didn’t know you felt so strongly about this. Boy or girl, I just want you to be happy. And hopefully Dr. Howard can help us find a way for you to be.”

“Well, your experience is atypical for a gender identity disorder case, but I’m not prepared to say your psyche isn’t legitimately feminine. I just don’t know you well enough yet.” She turned her attention to the box. “So what did you bring me?” She opened the lid and pulled out Stephanie’s models. “These weren’t what I was expecting.”

Stephanie shrugged. “You wanted to see my comics, and there was extra room in the box so I figured I’d show you more of the stuff I’ve made. Those were supposed to be airplanes from like World War Two, but I rearranged the parts and made spaceships.”

Dr. Howard held up the models. “I suppose this blue one with the gray stripes is the ‘Good Guy’ and this red and black one is the ‘Bad Guy?’ Which one wins more often when they fight?”

Stephanie giggled. “No, they don’t fight at all.” She stood up and took the black one from the doctor. “They’re not even the same size. This one is form starting colonies on other planets. It’s got like a thousand people in it. These little dots along here are windows. When it gets to the planet it lands like a rocket, on its tail, like this.” She waved it through the air and then stood it on the table. “After it lands, the wings open up and fold down like this.” She pivoted the parts around so they seemed to resemble the petals of a flower. On top of the petals were rows of little bubbles, like marbles cut in half. “Each of these domes are greenhouses where the colony can grow its food, until they fix the air on the planet and they can make farms.”

Dr. Howard was impressed. She smiled at her patient. “That’s very creative. Have you always been interested in science fiction?”

“I guess so. Lately I kind of like magic stuff better than space stuff, but anything that’s not about the boring real world is fun.”

“So you like escaping from reality?”

“More so before, when it just felt like real life was everyone against me. But my new reality is better.”

“Do you think that maybe the whole girl thing is just another way of escaping?”

Stephanie became visibly shaken. “Being a girl doesn’t feel like pretending to me. It seems more real than when I was a boy. I’m like more connected to the world, not like I’m getting away from it.”

The doctor backed off a little. “Okay. So what does this other spaceship do?”

Stephanie brightened to show off her handiwork. “This one is smaller. It only holds one person, over here in the cockpit. It’s for exploring in deep space. So all this back here is engine. But so the pilot doesn’t get lonely, this part here is an antenna for getting radio messages from home. It can unfold, see?” She pulled on a lever and a set of bars like the ribs on an umbrella popped out, connected with a kind of lacy filigree. “This way the radio will get better reception when it’s far away from base. But it goes so far away that it takes a long time for the radio waves to get there, so they can’t have a two-way conversation. It’s mostly just news and music and stuff, mixed in with encouraging words from friends and family, to keep the pilot from going space crazy.”

“That’s really very thoughtful of you. And a very pretty piece of art you’ve made. I’m glad you showed it to me.”

Mom interrupted. “I’m very impressed, Sweetheart. Why have you been keeping talent like this to yourself?”

“I don’t know. It just seemed like you and Dad only cared about school stuff, and this was just me not following the rules and doing my own thing again.”

“Aww, Honey, I’m sorry if we made you feel that way.” She gave Stephanie a light hug. “You do really have an artistic streak that we didn’t know about. Maybe we should be looking for a school for you that has a good art program.”

The doctor tried to get things back on track. She looked into the box and pulled out one of the stapled bundles of papers. “So this is the comic book you’ve been making?” She took a look at the cover, which identified it as something called “Dreaming Sam,” then flipped through a few pages. “Wow. You did a professional looking cover, with an issue number and a date and everything, even a cover price, although oddly you didn’t put your name on it anywhere. There’s no writer or artist credited. Why is that?”

Stephanie shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I wanted to pretend someone else made it, maybe?”

“From the date on this issue, you were barely older than ten when you wrote this comic. But the artwork is very impressive.” She opened the book and pointed to a picture that spanned two pages. “Look at the detail on this dragon, here. The car Sam’s family is driving in looks like it might have been traced from a magazine or something, but that monster seems to be an original creation of yours. You definitely have a talent for drawing. There are a couple of things I’m noticing even at first blush. First, despite all the detail you put into the scene, we never get a good look at Sam’s face. Second, Sam’s outfit and hairstyle are unisex enough that we can’t really tell if he’s a boy or she’s a girl, especially when the mother uses the nickname Sammie and spells it with an ‘ie’ which is more feminine than the usual ‘y’ you’d get for a male Sammy, so we don’t know if Sam is short for Samuel or Samantha. Which is it?”

Stephanie wrinkled her forehead. “I don’t think I did that on purpose, but I guess Sam can be like whatever kid reads it.”

“That’s an interesting way of looking at it. I also notice that you and Sam have the same initials, which makes the whole vague gender thing even more curious. I’ll have to spend some more time looking through the rest of these before our next session.”

Stephanie’s Deal by Jennifer Brock Five weeks ago, eleven-year-old Steven Brooks made a foolish decision and has been living with the consequences ever since. He peeked at his Christmas presents and for punishment his parents decided to make him dress like a girl during his vacation, since he’d already had to be a girl for the pageant at church, which was criss-crossing the boys’ and girls’ roles. School was delayed, and the punishment extended, but it really doesn’t seem like a punishment any more. Stephanie is enjoying her life as a girl far more than Steven liked being a boy, but there have been a few bumps in the road.

Episode 19

Saturday morning seemed kind of normal. Stephanie was lying on the living room floor watching cartoons. She had on her red tshirt with the sleeves that could come down over her hands if she wanted to under her brown corduroy jumper with tights on her legs and girl shoes on her feet, but otherwise it wasn’t that different from a Saturday morning Steven might have had back when he was a boy.

Okay, so she was also flipping through her new Cosmo Girl when a commercial came on or the show got boring. It had come in the mail that morning. She’d almost forgotten that her cousin Dan had gotten her a subscription for her birthday. It was kind of cool getting a piece of mail addressed to “Stephanie Brooks,” like it somehow made her existence official, like in that old movie Dad likes to watch every Christmas where the Post Office declares that guy to be Santa Claus. Was there a way she could use that same argument? “The U.S. Post Office delivered mail here to Stephanie Brooks, so I will have to continue to be Stephanie Brooks as long as these magazines keep showing up.” Would Dad go for that? Probably not, but he might get a laugh out of it. She’d have to try it on him.

The magazine was pretty interesting. Jessica Alba was on the cover, and Steven had only really known her from the Fantastic Four movie. The article about her turned her into a real person. There was a whole kind of Valentine’s Day section about how to get your guy to fall for you, and Stephanie took mental notes on how to use those techniques the next time she saw Brian. However, another article warned about what your boyfriend’s mother thinks of you, and she got worried. She was already kind of scared of Mrs. Somers.

There was a section on beauty tips, and Stephanie found it far more interesting than the cartoons, so she turned the TV off and went up to her room to look in the mirror. There was a section on hairstyles, and it really made her wish her honey-brown layered bob would grow just a little longer. She didn’t quite have enough to make a cute ponytail or braid. She tried a few things from the magazine, and it mostly just made her frustrated. Why couldn’t she have turned into a girl earlier so her hair would have had time to grow? It just wasn’t fair.

There were some cool exercises for getting “6-pack abs,” which made Stephanie strip to her underwear so she could get a better look at her body. She was a couple inches shy of five feet tall and only weighed 86 pounds, so she was smaller than the girl in the picture of the exercises. Her hips only went out a little bit, not nearly as much as a real girl’s would, and her waist only went in a little bit. And of course, her chest didn’t go out much at all. She had a really crummy figure. She tried to tell herself that it was because she was much younger than the model in the photo, but she knew the real reason. She had a stupid boy body, and all the lavender oil in the world couldn’t change that.

She just wanted to crawl into a hole. The only reason she bothered getting dressed again was that she didn’t want to have to explain, in case Mom came in or something.

Her sister must have been tuned in to Stephanie’s psychic frequency or something, because right when her spirits needed a lift, her cell rang with Michelle’s ringtone. She went over to her bureau where it was charging and answered. “Hello?”

“Hey, Little Sis, you sound a little down. Is something the matter?”

Stephanie sighed. “I just got my first Cosmo Girl in the mail, and I was just feeling frustrated that I’m never going to look like the girls in the pictures. I’ve got a dumb square flat boy body.”

Michelle almost laughed in response. “Kiddo, every girl who reads that looks at those pictures and hates her body. They’re unrealistic. Not only do they use mutant waif models, but then they Photoshop those images so they end up with no resemblance whatsoever to reality.”

She wasn’t buying that argument. “But at least those other girls reading it are still girls. They might not look like models, but they know their bodies are at least going to be girl-shaped, with hips and boobs and stuff. Mine just isn’t.”

Her sister could hear Stephanie’s pain coming through. “That’s where you’re wrong, Stephie. It just so happens that’s sort of why I was calling you. Let me send you a picture.” Stephanie’s phone made a weird beepy noise. “Did you get it? Go through the menu to your picture gallery.”

Stephanie pushed the buttons on her phone to try to do what Michelle had described. She found the picture her sister had sent, of a cute brunette girl sitting on what looked like Michelle’s bed in her dorm room. She was wearing a tank top and a pair of shorts. “Okay. I got it. Who is this?”

“That’s my new friend Annette. She’s the one I told you about before. I took the time to get to know her, and some of my assumptions were wrong, but she’s helping me try to understand what you’re going through. And you can tell from that picture that she’s got, what did you call it, boobs and hips and stuff. It’s too bad I took the picture from the front; she’s got an amazing butt too, way better than mine. Hey, quit it!” Stephanie couldn’t tell what was happening, there were some weird noises on the line.

A new voice came on. Her voice was a little lower than Michelle’s, but still sounded like a girl. “Hi there. I took the phone away from your sister. I’m Annette, and as I understand it we have a few things in common. She showed me your picture, and I think you’re a very pretty girl. When you get a little older, I’m sure you’ll break a lot of hearts.”

Stephanie was trying to piece together what had been said. “Um, hi. If you’re the one she was talking about before, that means you’re really a boy?”

Annette tried not to go full-on diva to a poor confused kid. “No, it means I’m really a girl, but I had a considerable birth defect of being stuck in a male body.”

“You look like a pretty girl now. So they fixed you with operations and drugs and hormones and all that?”

“Thank you, Sweetie. I’ve been on hormones since my seventeenth birthday. I was an emancipated minor, so the doctor was able to start me early. I had a part-time job that paid for them. I haven’t had any surgeries; what you see there in the picture was all grown naturally. I wasn’t even wearing a bra, so you can’t accuse me of padding it. There’s only one surgery I want, but it’s a little beyond my means at the moment.”

“What’s that?” Stephanie couldn’t imagine.

“Oh you’re so cute! My plumbing situation still hasn’t been tended to. Once I graduate and get a job, I’ll start saving up for my SRS, or as it’s known in the vernacular, my chop-it-offa-me.”

It took her a moment, but Stephanie eventually decoded what she was talking about. “So you’re saying that those hormone thingies could make a dumb flat square boy body into a curvy pretty girl body?”

“Sure, that’s how all girls, even the genetic ones, get their curves. It’s just that girls like you and me can’t make our own hormones so we have to get them from somewhere else. When you’re old enough, if you’re still sure you want to be female, your doctor can put you on them. But in the meantime try to find an endocrinologist who’ll put you on blockers to stop your body going through male puberty. So first you’ll need a good transgender-friendly psychologist to declare you officially a gender identity disorder patient before the endo can treat you.”

“Is that what you did?” Your body doesn’t look male at all.

“Thanks again, Sweetheart. No, I took a nonstandard route that I would not recommend. I caused an injury to myself that stopped the production of my male hormones, but it also got me locked up for a couple years in a psych ward, and pretty much ruined my family, so I’d say you’d be better off going through proper channels. Besides, you might not be able to tell by that picture but I’m too tall, I’ve got horribly thick wrists, and my feet are enormous! In the wrong light, I’ve even got an Adam’s apple, so I guess there is one other surgery I might want. It was a growth spurt I had when I was fourteen than made me do what I did, and of course it was too late to undo what had already happened to my body.” Annette sniffled a little.

Michelle came back on the line. “She’s had a rough life. Anyway, she’s given me a lot of insight into what it’s like for you, and what it would be like if you wanted to continue to be Stephanie. Am I right that you’ve kind of been thinking that way? I mean, talking about wanting your body to grow into a womanly shape is serious stuff. You know that if you went down that road for real, you can’t really come back? It’s not like a costume you can just take off; you’d be changing the way your actual body works, and maybe eventually even taking pieces off.”

Stephanie thought about it. “I really like it better as a girl than I ever did as a boy, and Mom’s got me going to this psycho doctor about it, and she’s mostly trying to talk me out of it. I think that’s maybe to see how seriously I want it. I haven’t really said it out loud to Mom and Dad, but yeah, I think I would want to be Stephanie forever. It doesn’t seem like a costume at all. In fact, my doctor makes me wear my boy clothes for a while each day, and they make me feel like I’m pretending more than any skirt or dress ever does.”

“Okay. I’m sure your doctor will keep you from making any rash decisions, and make sure you’ve thought about all the implications. But if that’s what you want, I’ll support you 100%. If you ever need me to back you up with the folks, I’ve got your back. Sister or brother, I love you and won’t ever stop.”

“Thanks.” Stephanie was doing a little sniffling of her own. “That really helps. I love you too. When did you get so cool?”

Michelle laughed. “I’ve always been cool, but you were so caught up in the whole ‘little brother / big sister’ rivalry that you never noticed. And now that you know, I’m sure that if you ever did go back to being my little brother we’d get along a lot better. I’m not trying to push you to go back, either. I love having a little sister. You’re cute and fun and very sweet. But either way you want to be is fine with me as long as you do what feels right for you.”

“Aw. I don’t know what to say. You’re the best sister a girl could have.” Stephanie wished she could give her big sis a hug. They exchanged goodbyes and she was left with a warm feeling inside and a wide smile on her face.

Talking with her big sister reminded her that she hadn’t heard from her “little sister” in a while. She wanted to give Robin a call, but she wasn’t sure what the situation was for her. When Robin’s father had crashed her birthday party, Stephanie’s Dad had taken charge and seemed to know stuff. So she thought he might still know stuff and tracked him down in his study. She had to knock on the door and wait while he hid his papers before she could come in.

She asked his opinion on whether it would be okay for her to call Robin, and he figured that there shouldn’t be any problem with that. He even offered to place the call for her, so he could talk to Robin’s mother for her and make sure. She handed Dad her phone and said that Robin was number seven in her speed dial. He called and said hi to Kendra, Robin’s mother, told her who he was and asked if Robin, or maybe Bobby was available to talk to Stephanie, and then held up his hand to let her know something was happening while he listened for a long time. He said that whatever Mrs. Perrone had said sounded like a good thing, and that he understood. He then gave her Stephanie’s number and asked that if Robin had some free time later in the week, she would love to hear from her, and told her that she was still free to call him any time for legal advice.

He ended the call and passed the phone back to Stephanie. He told her that things had changed for the better at Robin’s house. Her father had spent the weekend away and calmed down enough that her mother was able to convince him to talk to a counselor. He was ready to accept that Bobby needed to be Robin, at least some of the time, and they were still working on figuring out where things were going to end up. Her mother even said that before she got pulled away to answer the phone, she’d been playing a Barbie-themed board game with both Robin and her dad, and Robin was in her prettiest dress.

It seemed nice, but Stephanie was still kind of bummed that she didn’t get to talk to her “little sister.” She thanked her Dad for his help, and let him get back to work. She gave him a little hug on her way out, as thanks for being supportive. Compared to Robin’s troubles with her father and Michelle’s friend’s family worries, Stephanie had it really good at home. On the spur of the moment, she even gave her Daddy a little kiss on the cheek. It felt right.

She was almost skipping when she left to go find her Mom, who was busy on the computer, probably working on someone’s taxes. She had a lot of work from January to April, and not very much the rest of the year. Stephanie wasn’t sure how much money she earned at it, but Dad was a lawyer, so they must have had plenty. She stood off to the side quietly and waited for an opportunity. Mom finished one of her documents, rolled her neck, and stretched her arms. She blinked and looked up and saw Stephanie there.

She walked over to her mother and gave her a hug and said thanks for being there. Mom was a little confused, but she didn’t ask any questions and just held her tight. Stephanie didn’t want to have to explain why she was shedding a couple of tears, so she kept her face out of sight as she left the room. She probably wouldn’t have believed that Stephanie wasn’t crying for herself, but for other girls like her who had it a whole lot worse.

It was getting close to lunchtime, and both her parents were engrossed in work, so Stephanie decided to try to make lunch for all of them on her own. She looked through the fridge and the cupboards to see what they had that would make a good lunch, that she knew how to make. She decided to make fish sticks, macaroni and cheese, and green peas for a vegetable.

The cooking went fairly smoothly. The peas in the microwave and the fish sticks in the oven both had instructions saying how long they would take to cook, so it was easy to synchronize things. The only timing she couldn’t control was how long it took the water for the macaroni to boil, but that just meant she had to pay attention to the pot, but the only other thing she had to do while it was cooking was set the table. She decided that they’d be eating in the dining room instead of the kitchen even though it was just a Saturday lunch.

When everything was ready, Stephanie collected her parents and told them that she’d fixed lunch. They were both surprised and grateful. Dad laughed a little when he saw the meal she’d prepared; he said it suited her. She asked if she’d made a mistake, and he just smiled and said that you could tell a twelve-year-old planned the menu. It was the kind of food that took him back to when he was a kid, and he was glad. Parents sure acted weird sometimes.

After lunch, she went up to her room and finished working on her model car. It looked kind of nice when it was done, but Stephanie really wasn’t into cars. It was also too small to be a car for any of her dolls, but she didn’t really play with them; they just sat on the bureau making her room prettier. When the paint was dry, she took her car with her to show her folks. They were down in the living room watching some dumb news show. She had to wait for a commercial.

When she did catch their attention, she showed them her little car. Dad looked it over and nodded approvingly. She showed him that the doors could open and so could the hood and see all the engine stuff was there. Mom just smiled and said that it was pretty, and asked why she hadn’t made it into something else, like the spaceships made from airplane models that she’d shown her doctor. She said that they’d gotten her a fancy model, so they deserved to see it the way it was made to look, before she rebuilt into her vision of a magical alien castle. That led into a whole conversation where Stephanie had to explain what her mother was talking about.

It was easier to show than to tell, so she ran up to her room and the rest of her creations out of her attic closet. She explained that it hadn’t really been her thing to follow directions (or rules, which earned a laugh) and it felt much better to create something that didn’t exist before than to just make the same model a billion other kids were making. The other part of it was that it was fun to dream about being someplace far away, another world where the people were different.

Mom and Dad either thought her work was very interesting, or they were just faking it to seem like they cared about something that mattered to her. Either way, they listened to her stories about the scientific explorers, and the hospital ship with detachable ambulance, and even the one from the water planet that could convert into a submarine. They seemed kind of surprised that Stephanie (or Steven, actually) could put all the work into making something that elaborate. There really were a lot of sides to Steven that he’d kept private and didn’t show anyone.

Mom told Dad about the comic books that the doctor had, and he said he’d like to read them when Stephanie got them back. It was really embarrassing for her. They’d only seemed interested in school stuff before, and this was different. She said she’d think about showing them to him. It was just really weird to almost be connecting to her parents.

Stephanie wasn’t comfortable with the way her mother and father were looking at her, so she kept to herself after dinner and read a book in her room until bedtime. She’d had a very emotionally overwhelming day. She spent extra time massaging tea tree oil into her chest before putting on her nightgown, picturing her breasts growing with every drop. She imagined waking up in the morning and seeing two big boobies filling out the top of her nightie.

When she finally did wake up, nothing new was growing there, but Mom was telling her to hurry up and get dressed. They were going to church in Morton again, so they had to get an early start. She said there wasn’t time for a bath, so Stephanie just took a shower instead and had to rush with the hair dryer. Mom had laid out her clothes for her — she got to wear her pretty dress with the purple stripes.

There seemed to be some tension in the car again on the way to Morton. Even though everyone was dressed up nice and looking sharp before they needed to go, Mom seemed mad that they took too long to get ready and said something mean to Dad about it. He turned to Stephanie and warned her that if she really wanted to seem authentically female she’d have to master the talent for getting angry for no reason and blaming others for your mood. Mom shot him the scariest look that Stephanie had ever seen, and she tried to shrink down in the backseat and not be noticed.

At the church, Mom put a fake smile on her face, and made Stephanie make one too. It was awkward. Stephanie also had to sit in the pew between her parents which was even worse, but once the service started she could mostly ignore them and focus on the religion stuff. She’d never given a lot of though to God, but lately she’d been praying that he’d make her into a real girl.

The sermon was pretty boring, but she paid close attention to it just to keep from noticing what was going on around her. The pastor talked about forgiving your neighbors, and she tried to see if her parents were listening to him, but it seemed like they weren’t. They just glared at each other every so often. She tried smiling at them, for real this time, but

At the end of the service, the reverend stood by the door again and shook everyone’s hand and wished them a good day. Stephanie thanked him and kind of shrugged to apologize for her family. Once again they had to skip out on the after-service refreshments.

Before Dad started the car, Stephanie leaned forward and said she knew they were fighting and it was all her fault and she wished she could fix it, but she didn’t know how. She started weeping uncontrollably, and regretted using a little mascara. Her face was going to be a mess. Mom opened her door and went around and got in back, and then embraced Stephanie in a firm hug.

“Honey, your father and I aren’t fighting about you.” She stroked Stephanie’s hair. “We’ve just been arguing about what church to go to. I wanted to try a different one back home, but he wanted to stay the same denomination which meant traveling three towns over. It’s not your fault at all.”

Stephanie was probably staining Mom’s blouse. She sputtered, “B-b-b-but it’s my fault we got kicked out of our old church.”

“Sweetie, your situation just helped us find out what a bunch of hypocrites that old church was. We’re better off without them.”

“Are you sure it’s not my fault?”

Dad chimed in from the front seat. “It’s not your fault. Your mother and I are just being stubborn. We’ll work something out before next Sunday so we won’t have to fight again. Okay?”

Mom had an actual smile on her face. “Okay.”

Dad smiled, too. “Now what do you say I take my girls out for brunch?”

Mom opened her purse and took out a tissue. “Sure, but first we’ve got to fix up a little mess here.” She dabbed at Stephanie’s face and cleaned her smudged eyes, and gave her another tissue to blow her nose. Stephanie checked her face in Mom’s compact mirror, and she looked okay. She hadn’t brought her mascara in her own purse, but she did reapply her lip gloss. Things were definitely looking up.

Stephanie’s Deal by Jennifer Brock Last year, Steven Brooks was a sad, lonely eleven-year-old boy who’d rather spend time in worlds of his own imagining than to have to face the real world. His parents only cared about grades, and his sister was a jerk. He was hoping to get a videogame for Christmas that would allow him to escape even further, and took a risk to peek inside his mother’s closet, which turned out to be the worst and best thing Steven ever did. He got caught, and his punishment (for weird reasons related to his sister teasing him about a crazy pageant) was to dress and live as a girl for the duration of his school break. Since then, Stephanie’s eyes have been opened to a better world with friends and a loving family and plenty of reasons to smile. In this installment, her doctor has some interesting news, and her secret is revealed to significant people. (It’s a supersized one to make up for taking so long between chapters.)

Episode 20

Monday was a busy day for phone calls at Stephanie’s house. In the middle of the morning, her therapist called. She said a few words to Mom, but then she wanted Stephanie to get on the extension. She was calling to ask permission to show Stephanie’s artwork to a friend of hers, an art expert. The doctor made it clear that none of the details of her identity would be revealed; she just wanted an opinion on some of the aspects of the things Stephanie had made. Mom wasn’t sure, but Stephanie thought it was okay, so they gave Dr. Howard the go ahead.

In the early afternoon, Robin called just after school, to return the call Stephanie had made on Saturday. She was really happy, even though she’d had to pretend to be Bobby at school. She’d gotten this really cool doctor who understood everything, and they’d made a deal that she could change into her girl clothes as soon as she got off the school bus, every day. She had to be a boy on Sundays for church and stuff, but all day Saturday was girl time!

Stephanie was glad for her friend. She was really relieved that her dad had come around. Robin said that he was still a little upset, but her doctor was helping with that. The other deal they’d made was that when school was out (which felt like forever but was only like five months away), she could spend the whole summer as Robin, and if she was still sure she wanted to be a girl in the fall, Dr Howard would sign some form that would let her become Robin in school. Stephanie was a little surprised that they had the same doctor, but didn’t mention it. Robin did say that Stephanie’s dad had helped them find her, so that kind of made sense. It also gave her hope that maybe she could work out some kind of similar arrangement.

She could hear the smile in Robin’s voice, even over the phone, and she had to smile herself. It wasn’t that long ago that Robin had become miserable and depressed when her father had tried to turn her back into a boy forever. Stephanie really hoped he was seriously trying to accept her now, and not just faking it. It made her think about how supportive her own family was being about the whole thing.

Not long after Robin said goodbye, her phone rang again. This time it was Debbie. She called to see if Stephanie wanted to go shopping with her at the mall on Wednesday. Her mom was getting her some new clothes for spring, and it was always fun to have a friend along to lend an opinion about what looked good, since even though her mother had great fashion sense, she was still a grownup.

Stephanie thought that sounded like fun, but she had to turn down the invitation; Wednesday was her dance class. Debbie asked what kind of class it was, and Stephanie said it was ballroom dancing to get ready for her cousin’s wedding. She thought she’d mentioned the wedding before, but Debbie was all confused and pressed her for more details. She started at the beginning and explained that she’d actually volunteered to serve as a junior bridesmaid back at Christmas, before she was planning on being a girl full-time, and it just kind of worked out.

Debbie started gushing about how lucky Stephanie was to get to be in a wedding party, and that she was so jealous! Stephanie couldn’t answer a lot of her questions about what kind of dress she’d be wearing, or where the church was or anything, but she was able to describe her dance partner for Debbie. She started by telling her that Christopher was a pain in the butt and a major jerk, but she wanted a more visual description, like how tall he was and stuff.

Stephanie told her that unlike Andrea, the bridesmaid paired with her cousin Dan, who was much shorter than her dance partner, she didn’t complain at the end of every class that she had a stiff neck from looking up. Christopher was just tall enough so that she only had to tilt her chin a little to meet his eyes even when she was in her heels. For some reason, Stephanie felt herself blushing when thinking about his eyes, and tried to change the subject to just talk about the rest of the wedding party.

Debbie was cool with that and eventually she remembered why she’d called, and went to go check with her mother, then asked if Stephanie would be able to make it if they moved the shopping to Friday. Stephanie realized she should probably check with her mother as well, and made Debbie wait this time while she checked. Mom said it sounded okay, but then the girls had to pass their phones over so the mothers could finalize the details. Mom hung up before giving Stephanie her phone back, so she didn’t even get to say goodbye, but she was glad she’d get to go hang out at the mall with her girlfriend. It made her feel like she was somehow more authentic, since magazines and TV and stuff made it seem like all that real teenage girls ever did for fun was go shopping together.

Brian called Stephanie after dinner and she took her phone up to her room. She got a happy squishy feeling inside when he said he missed her. She pretended to kiss him through the phone and he played along with it and talked about lately strawberry had become his favorite flavor. He described running his fingers through her hair and smelling her perfume, and she didn’t want to correct him that the only thing he’d be smelling in her hair was shampoo. It was just too cute.

She said that it was too bad that it would be almost a whole week before she could see him again, but that she was really looking forward to his Super Bowl party. Would they be able to sneak away for a few private kisses at some point? She warned him that in front of other people, he’d only be getting quick pecks with her mouth closed and her lips tightly puckered; no tongues. If those were her rules, he said he’d definitely find a way to get her alone to hold her tight and share some of their favorite kind of kisses. He also said some things about running his hands along her body that made her really scared and nervous, yet very curious at the same time. She closed her eyes and let her own hands drift across her dress, wondering what it would feel like if she let her boyfriend do that.

She had to snap out of her reverie when Brian’s father suddenly came on the line and said he wanted to talk to her Dad. She took a moment to check her hair and makeup in the mirror, and then went to find him. She handed him her phone and then stuck around trying to figure out what they were talking about. At least he was smiling, which was kind of a good thing. He said that something sounded like a good idea; that due to their unusual circumstances he hadn’t really gotten a chance to get to know Brian before he started seeing his daughter, since he hadn’t realized at the time that she truly was his daughter. He said that something else shouldn’t take that long and he’d be happy to do it.

At least unlike Mom he didn’t hang up before giving her back the phone. She got to say goodbye to her boyfriend. She said she’d see him on Sunday, and he said he could hardly wait, and called her “Cutie.” She was smiling inside and out when she closed the phone and didn’t hear what her Dad said. When he repeated it, her heart started panicking. Her father had gotten invited to Brian’s Super Bowl party, too! She’d have to figure out how to steal kisses from her boyfriend in front of him! She put on a fake smile and said that it was great they’d get to spend some time together, and then rushed back to her room to try to calm down.

She couldn’t quite figure out what was bothering her about it, until she remembered seeing how scary Dad used to get back when her sister Michelle was younger, any time she’d brought a boy home. It’s like he shifted from his private family personality to his serious lawyerly courtroom self. He could be very intimidating when he wanted to be, and if he thought some young buck wasn’t good enough for “his little girl,” he’d turn it up to full. Many of the guys who’d tried to date Michelle had changed their minds after meeting Dad. Stephanie worried that Brian might do the same — she already had a few shortcomings as a girl and didn’t want an overprotective father to turn out to be the last straw that made him give up on her.

She avoided her parents for the rest of the night and went to bed still feeling kind of anxious. She took her time rubbing the tea tree oil into her chest at bedtime, and tried to consciously will her breasts into sprouting. She wanted to have something that Brian would want to try to touch, even if she wasn’t sure if she was ready to allow him to. But if her Dad did get all super-scary on Brian and he didn’t dump her for it, he might end up deserving some kind of reward. She’d have to think about it.

For her therapy session on Tuesday, Stephanie wanted to dress a little more casually than the last time so the doctor wouldn’t think she was trying too hard, but still look girlish. The weather wasn’t quite as cold so she was able to get away with wearing her pink lace-trimmed t-shirt top under her white cardigan sweater, paired with her denim skirt and ribbed white tights and her black patent Mary Janes on her feet.

Since the doctor had already seen her pink jewelry, she wore her set with the silver stars, and added her charm bracelet since it had brought her good luck the last time. She put a little pink sparkly gloss on her lips and just enough of her brown mascara on her lashes to call attention to her eyes. Figuring out how to do her hair was always the hardest part. She finally settled on clipping it back with a barrette on each side and then teasing it out in the back to fluff out.

She threw her things in her black patent handbag and she was ready to go. But her appointment was several hours away, so she had to kill some time. She did a little internet surfing, and then read one of her sister’s old books for a while. It seemed like forever before Mom said it was time to go. Stephanie freshened up her lip gloss before fetching her coat and getting into the car. Mom kind of looked at her funny, since it was the first time Stephanie was in a good mood when going to see Dr. Howard.

After they were shown into the doctor’s office and she had them sit down, she reached behind her desk and returned Stephanie’s box of artwork. She gave it a quick peek, but didn’t check completely to see if everything was there. She trusted the doctor.

So it came as a shock when Dr. Howard opened a folder on her desk and showed a page from one of Stephanie’s comic books, with some red marks all over it. She stood up and was prepared to shout at her when the doctor said that she’d shown photocopies of Stephanie’s drawings to an artist friend of hers who pointed out some interesting things she hadn’t noticed. Stephanie felt extremely embarrassed and sat back down before asking what she found.

Dr Howard turned toward Mom. “You really should read this if you get a chance. Your child is very talented. The storyline is a variation on the standard hero’s quest, where a lone traveler goes exploring in a strange world and encounters all kinds of unusual characters. What does make this one unusual is that unlike, say, Harry Potter or Flash Gordon, the hero here doesn’t hang onto any of these new friends. In most of these issues, the main character comes alone, meets some interesting people, has a bit of adventure with them, and in the end goes on again alone. I think that structure shows how truly lonely our author here was, or maybe even still is.”

She looked at Stephanie. “You have said that you feel more friendly now than you did when you wrote this, and you’ve said that you think it’s because you’re in girls’ clothes. There might be a hint of that in here, too. But before I show you, I want you to know that even the things written by adults are derivative at times, so don’t take this as criticism of your technique. Many of the people your Sam meets are familiar archetypes, like a witch or a musketeer. But what my friend showed me was that many of those archetypes all seem to incorporate the same kind of ambiguous gender as your protagonist. She said it looked like you probably used reference pictures for some of your drawings, which isn’t a bad thing; a lot of professionals draw that way.”

She showed them a pair of pictures. On the left was Stephanie’s drawing, and on the right was a painting by someone else, but they both showed an armored knight sitting on a horse. “Now this character is Sir Gideon, and he’s clearly described as male, but Cheyenne pointed out to me that your reference for this drawing was a historical painting she’d recognized of Joan of Arc, who was famous for cross-dressing in a man’s armor.”

She showed another pair of images. “And this elfin woman here is a sort of Robin Hood like forest dweller named Arbora. She’s very definitely female, almost overtly sexualized. But here the reference seems to be from a vintage photo of Mary Martin as Peter Pan on Broadway, a woman famous for pretending to be a man.”

“There were some others, too.” She pulled another picture out, but this time didn’t have a reference for comparison. “Here is a gathering of clearly male wizards with long beards, and I hadn’t realized that these fancy magical robes they’re wearing are really only slightly altered images of ballgowns. Stevie did a pretty good job at turning the dresses into more masculine figures, and it was only when Cheyenne showed me that the one on this guy here in the back seems to have an Empire waist that we realized where these fashions came from. It’s very impressive work!”

“So, what’s got me wondering is whether you did this intentionally or not. Do you remember how you chose your reference pictures?”

Stephanie shrugged. “I just Googled for photos of stuff. I forget how I found each of those. I don’t think I was looking for women or men or whatever.”

“So your way of designing characters in a sense ignored gender?” The doctor wrote something in her notepad. “Interesting. There just might have been clues that you had doubts about your own sexual identity before this year. There’s a danger of misinterpreting things through the lens of hindsight, so we have to be careful, but I think in this case it’s legitimate.”

Stephanie couldn’t hold it in any longer. “Does this mean you’re going to send me to the doctors with operations and hormones and stuff to turn me into a girl for real forever and always?” She was almost too excited, and Mom shot her a stern look.

Dr. Howard frowned. “Now I didn’t say that. I think we still need some time to understand exactly what’s going on for you. First of all, the current standards in this country don’t allow sexual reassignment surgery to be performed on a minor, so put that option out of your mind completely. Second, I’ve talked to endocrinologists, and they prefer not to start someone your age on hormone replacement therapy. Again, the standards want them to wait until the patient is an adult. What they are allowed to do to a younger patient is give them hormones to delay puberty. But even in that case, you’re still a little young. Sexual development is related to general development, and you’re around the age where girls are taller than boys, so if they blocked you now you could end up stunted. Ideally we’d want your boy hormones to make you grow a little more before they turned them off, and it should be well before they made you too hairy and muscularly manly. And in the meanwhile that gives us time to make sure. We’re talking about making permanent, irreversible changes to your body, so it shouldn’t be done on a whim.”

Stephanie was confused. “But I don’t want to be a boy anymore! Even if you make me dress in boy clothes I’ll be a girl in boy clothes. Even if I still have to have boy parts, I’ll know I’m a girl, and as soon as I’m old enough I’ll get one of those doctors to give me girl parts.”

Mom just stared with her eyes as big as possible, but Dr. Howard just kind of laughed. “I understand your conviction is strong. I’m not going to try to push you one way or the other. I’d just like you to do the same, and not try to push yourself one way or the other. It’s okay for you to explore femininity; just don’t jump into it with both feet. Wade in slowly before you get in over your head, as it were.”

Stephanie still wasn’t satisfied. “Robin said there’s a form you can sign to let her go to school as a girl. Can you do that for me?”

“While I can’t really discuss what I may or may not have said to someone who might be another patient, it is indeed within my power to write a letter to whatever school system you end up in, if we’re really certain you’re gender dysphoric. But speaking of schools, there was something else I wanted to bring up with you. The friend I showed your work to is actually an art teacher at the Hutchinson School. She thinks you’d definitely qualify for their arts program, if you’re interested.”

Stephanie didn’t know what that meant, but Mom seemed to recognize the name. “I hadn’t even been thinking about them as an option, but I guess it makes sense. Do I need to drop any particular name to make an appointment to talk with an admissions officer?”

Dr. Howard handed her a business card. “Call Ruth Lancaster at this number. Give her your name. She should be expecting a call, but if she doesn’t you can tell her that Cheyenne Lucas recommended your daughter for placement.”

The adults were caught up in school details, and Stephanie was mostly tuning them out, but she perked up at hearing a magic word. “Daughter? So you mean I’ll get to go to this school as a girl?”

She smiled at her patient. “They have a very liberal policy toward LGBT students, so I doubt you’d even need my permission, but yes, I think it would be fine to allow you to present as female. Consider it a trial run. If you decide to attend their school, we could let you spend the next five months or so as a full-time female, which should also get you through your cousin’s wedding that you’ve committed to a playing a female role in. Come the summer we can reevaluate, and if you decide to change your mind, that would be okay. I imagine that a place like Hutchinson wouldn’t even blink if a student switched genders over the summer. If instead you’re certain then that the right course for you is to go forward as a female, I’ll refer you to an endocrinologist and they can see about preventing you having a male puberty. Does that sound fair?”

Stephanie thought it sounded too slow, but anything that didn’t make her have to turn back into a boy sounded like a good idea. She nodded.

Mom seemed a little upset, though. The doctor looked at her. “Carol, does that seem like a reasonable compromise to you?”

“I’m feeling a little blindsided here. I didn’t expect you to just flat out tell my, um, child here that you approve of h-her changing sex without making sure I agreed first. But I guess I can’t say no now.”

“At this point we’re only talking about changing Stevie’s gender presentation, not about making any actual body changes. I think that’s the best way to go for now. It will also give you some time to adjust. Some part of you probably still sees the situation as your son playing dress-up, but she seems fairly emphatic here about actually being your daughter. So give her some room to experiment with what that means, and when the time comes for any really irreversible decisions it will be less traumatic for everyone involved.”

Mom sighed. “I guess it’s for the best. Tom and I talked about it being a very real possibility.” They spent the rest of the session going over Stephanie’s feelings and a few of Mom’s anxieties, and when their time was up everyone was in a generally better mood.

When they got home, Mom called and got them an appointment with Ms. Lancaster for the next day. Stephanie could hardly believe it — she was going to get to go to school as a girl! It took all her willpower to keep from celebrating too soon. It wasn’t real quite yet. Until some principal or teacher or something told her that she was enrolled in a new school as Stephanie, there was still a chance Steven would be going back to school somewhere. She went through the rest of the afternoon in that “not wanting to wake up and find out it’s a dream” feeling.

When Dad came home, Mom got to him first and shared the news. He said that Hutchinson was a bit on the “crunchy granola” side, but their academic credentials were sound, and if Stephanie really did have talent as an artist maybe it was the right place for her. Talking about her artwork made him want to see it, so Stephanie had to get out her box and let her parents read her comic books. It was way too embarrassing for her to watch, so she made them wait until she left the room to open the box.

A while later there was a knock on her bedroom door, and her Dad was stopping by to tell her how impressed he was with her work, and wished she’d shown it to him sooner. He asked how she felt about going to a new school and she told him she was a little nervous about being in a new place and everything, but that it she was really happy that she’d get to be herself. He nodded as though he understood what she meant, but she wasn’t sure if he was just faking it. He gave her a hug and wished her luck at her meeting.

Stephanie had a very weird dream that night. She was back in her old classroom, wearing just her bra and panties, and everyone pointed and laughed and called her “Steven the Sissy!” She cried that she was a real girl, but they ripped her clothes off and instead of being naked she was blank underneath like a Barbie doll. It was a relief to not be a boy, but frustrating to not be a girl either.

She didn’t have a lot of time to think about what it might mean because Mom came and got her out of bed early, even though their appointment wasn’t until 10:00. She wanted to make sure they made a good impression at the school. She even picked out what she wanted Stephanie to wear. She put her in a crisp white blouse and gray wool skirt, and her blue cardigan sweater, like she was going to church or something. She even only let her put on her simplest jewelry, just a chain necklace and her silver star stud earrings. Stephanie had to sneak some lip gloss.

Mom looked nice, but also kind of churchy or business-y. She was in a black skirt suit and a white blouse and she was barely wearing lipstick. It was like she wanted to seem as stuffy as possible for this meeting. Stephanie was curious, but sensed that Mom wasn’t in a mood to explain. She just kept her mouth shut and sat still as they drove.

The school was only one town away, so it wasn’t too far to go, but it still seemed like a foreign country almost. Stephanie hadn’t gone over there very much. It did seem like maybe there were more rich people. The houses looked a little more expensive, and the cars were fancier.

Eventually, Mom pulled into a driveway that was marked with a big sign identifying it as The Hutchinson School. The cars in the parking lot had more bumper stickers than Stephanie had ever seen before, advertising various politicians and some things she guessed were rock bands. The school itself was a cluster of wide, low brick buildings, and Mom found a label that identified which one to go to for the main office. Stephanie wanted to take her time to look around along the way, but Mom hurried her along.

They found a receptionist desk and she gave their names and said they had an appointment with Ms. Lancaster. The lady behind the desk picked up a phone and hit some buttons, and then said that the Brookses were there.

Ms. Lancaster turned out to be a friendly-looking lady not much older than Mom, but way more colorful. Her dress was printed with all kinds of flowers all over, and she had a big, chunky necklace of alternating square and round beads where no two were the same color. She showed them into her office, and gave them each a brochure about the school. “Our founder, Phoebe Hutchinson, took elements that from Waldorf, Montessori, and some experimental charter schools and combined them into a new concept. Our programs here emphasize focusing on each student’s complete development, including art and music and civics and philosophy as well as language and arithmetic. Ms. Lucas has already noted your considerable aptitude for art, and we’d like to help nurture that, but not to the exclusion of all other studies. Did you bring a transcript from your previous school?”

Mom pulled a folder out of her bag, but before she handed it over she asked, “Now you were told that she’s really a boy, right?” Stephanie winced at her phrasing but she didn’t seem to notice. Ms. Lancaster nodded. Mom passed the papers over, and continued, “So here’s Steven’s file from Roosevelt.”

Ms. Lancaster paged through the file. “There are a few notes here on behavioral issues, but those wouldn’t prevent us from admitting Stephanie as a student. In fact, I’d cite them as evidence of how the public school system has failed you. It mentions how you appeared bored and inattentive in class, but since it didn’t disrupt the other students nothing was done about it. Well, to me, that indicates that the material wasn’t engaging your interest. Here we have the resources to individually tailor each student’s curriculum; we don’t treat them like sheep or try to churn out rows of identical robots all thinking alike. Our students come to us as unique individuals, and remain as such even when they leave us. Unlike the public schools, our goal is not to beat them all into conformity. We want to help them learn to actually use their brains to understand things, not just spend energy on rote memorization.”

Stephanie didn’t completely get all of that, but Mom seemed to like what she was saying. “That sounds like a noble goal, but do the students still get a good education? Public schools may do a lot of drilling information into kids’ heads, but that’s what they need to do to score well on the SAT’s and get into college.”

“While it’s true that a student who puts in hours of learning vocabulary words just to learn them can do better on standardized tests, what we do here is teach how the students how to use their minds to grow in knowledge. Like we don’t teach just algebra so they know algebra, but present algebra for what it truly is, a useful tool for solving certain kinds of problems. At no point do our students make that age-old complaint, ‘Why do we need to know this stuff?’ We’re a K through twelve facility, and it is true that we do better when a child starts with us at a younger age. A preschooler’s favorite question is ‘Why’ and we try to harness that curiosity and keep it alive throughout their lives. When a child like yours starts with us at an older age, there’s an adjustment period at first where we work together to get their brains wondering and exploring again instead of just repeating back what’s told to them. We turn out critical thinkers, not zombies. So while they may not turn out the best scores on fact tests, they do outstanding on applied knowledge tests, and generally perform overwhelmingly well at essay tests. Our graduates have gone on to every one of the Ivy League colleges, and probably every prestigious institution you could name, but I really prefer to remember the students who chose places to further their education for reasons beyond just getting an impressive diploma. With what we’ve taught them, our graduates are able to obtain a quality education wherever they go. All of life presents opportunities to learn knew things.”

Stephanie thought that sounded a lot better than her old school. She wanted Mom to just say yes or whatever it took to let her start coming there.

But her mother wasn’t done asking questions. “And you’re sure there wouldn’t be a problem with her, um, gender situation?”

“Not at all. We’ve had other transgender students before her, even some who transitioned while attending. Our students are encouraged to explore how they see their place in the world, and that includes things like self-expression and sexuality. There is occasionally some mild teasing, but we strive to show the students that respecting their fellow beings is of utmost importance. We haven’t had any incidents of serious bullying, even though we don’t have any foolish ‘Zero Tolerance’ policies. Intolerance isn’t a quality we want to foster in our students, and therefore not one we want to demonstrate in ourselves. When students have problems with each other, we provide a forum for them to understand and resolve their differences.”

“What about practical things? Like, will she be allowed to use the girls’ bathroom and locker room? Will her classmates need to be informed of her true sex?”

“To answer your first question, there are no girls’ bathrooms. All our lavatories are unisex, with full privacy partition walls and doors that go completely to the floor, and separate wastebaskets in each stall, so no one need be embarrassed. Stephanie would be sharing a locker room with other girls at gym class, but again we have individual changing booths with privacy curtains. It isn’t just girls like her who have body issues. No one has to feel insecure about being seen and compared to her or his peers. After all, she isn’t the only girl here who pads her bra.” Ms. Lancaster chuckled a little, and Stephanie tried not to blush.

“As for your second question, Stephanie’s classmates would not be told anything about her other than one she chooses to share personally. Her teachers would not even be told of her gender status, except when relevant, like in PE. Only the administration and health staff, the nurse and counselors, would be aware of her nature, in order to look out for any problems she may be having because of it.”

It all sounded really good. Ms. Lancaster took them on a brief tour. First they checked out the library, which was this huge, two-story space surrounded by bookshelves, with skylights in the ceiling and chairs and tables for little kids and big kids mixed together, and even some big soft pillows for comfortable reading. They went on to look at the big empty cafeteria and the big empty auditorium.

Then she showed them a couple of classrooms. In the first one they were discussing something about the American Revolution. There were fewer students in the class than at her old school, and the teacher had a special map up on a big computer screen where the blackboard would be. The kids could touch it and move stuff around, and zoom in an out or zip across the ocean just like that. It was pretty cool.

What really got Stephanie excited was an art class. There was a table in the middle with a spotlight shining on a bowl of fruit, and students were arranged at tilted desks all around it, so they could draw. On a counter on the side of the room were stacks of all different kinds of papers, and buckets of pencils in different colors and sizes, and they could just grab what they needed. The teacher was sitting off to the side, and she’d only come look at someone’s picture if they called him over. The best part was that the pictures were all different — one girl’s looked almost real enough to be a photo, but this one boy was taking the shapes of the fruits and turning them into creepy monsters, and another girl was drawing the fruit, but her bowl was invisible, so they were just sort of hovering in space. She also made all the fruits the wrong colors, but it still made a pretty drawing.

The teacher came over and shook her hand. “Hi, I’m Cheyenne Lucas. You must be Stephanie. When I saw your drawings, I told Ruth that we had to get you for our program. I hope you decide to enroll here. I’m looking forward to seeing what other feats of creativity you could perform with a little guidance.”

Stephanie smiled. “Thank you. I think I’d like it here.”

They went back to the office, and Mom said she liked what she’d seen and was ready to go ahead with signing her up, but she’d need to discuss it with her husband first. Ms. Lancaster gave her a form to take home and said she hoped to see them again.

Mom called Dad from the car to tell him that the meeting went great. The tuition was around what they’d expected, and she was sure they could budget it, but she wanted him to look over the documents before she signed anything. They decided to drive to his office instead of back home, and he could meet them for lunch, and then look over the papers and make sure there weren’t any problem clauses in the contract.

Stephanie was too nervous to eat a lot at lunch, so she just ordered a salad and ended up only picking at it a little. Afterwards, Stephanie had to hang out in the waiting room at his office while Dad and Mom looked over the papers the school had given her and talked over their decision.

After what seemed like way too long, they finally came out and got her. Dad was smiling broadly, and swept her up in a hug. “Congratulations, Honey! Starting Monday, you’ll be a Hutchinson student. We talked it over and decided it was the best option for you, and then faxed over the application. I’ll drop off a check later, and then we’re all set. They want you to go back on Friday to take some tests just to figure out which classes to place you in, but it’s nothing you need to worry about. They just need to know what you know and what you’ve still got left to learn. No matter how you score they won’t reject you or anything since your application has already been accepted.”

She was overjoyed, and even did that little squealing, screaming thing that she’d seen girls do when they were excited, but had never understood why before. She was all happy and nervous and scared, but it was a good scared, curious about what it would be like going to a new school. She spent the rest of the afternoon pretty much in a cloud.

Stephanie had a dance class that night, so she changed before dinner into her pretty light blue dress that had a sash that her mother had to tie in the back, and got to wear real grownup pantyhose and her navy blue pumps. Mom helped her with her hair and makeup and made her wear an apron when they cooked dinner. Dad said she looked pretty, and was on her way to becoming a lovely young woman. Stephanie blushed at that and worried that maybe she’d overdone her look. Or it could have been her happiness showing through at knowing she’d be a girl every day from now on.

Dan and Matt both told her she looked nice when they came to pick her up, and Dan even made a little whistle. She got compliments from the other bridesmaids, too. Christopher even seemed a little impressed, and said he liked her dress. She said it was a gift from his sister. He was even extra polite when he asked her to dance.

The Maestro singled out his “Princessa” as usual, and Stephanie decided to just bask in all the attention. She was a girl; she liked being seen as pretty, and it was nice to know her efforts at trying to look good weren’t being wasted. She didn’t make any mistakes with the dance steps, and kept her good mood all the way through class.

Shelby asked Matt if she could drive Stephanie home instead, since she wanted to ask her parents about letting her babysit. Matt just shrugged it off and made sure it was okay with Stephanie before walking off.

Shelby’s car was cool. It was this neat little two-door hatchback with a space-age motor that could switch between gas and electricity. It was a little messy, with a few pieces of junk mail thrown on the floor, and some toys scattered around the back seat, but it wasn’t dirty or smelly or anything.

Stephanie told Shelby her address and she said she had a pretty good idea how to get there. When they’d gone a couple blocks, Stephanie said, “I’d really love to watch Tara for you some time. She really is a great girl!” She paused and took a deep breath. “But before you leave her alone with me you probably ought to know that up until last Christmas I was a boy.”

Shelby ground the car to a stop. “No way! You’ve got to be kidding me. Did Grace put you up to this? We’re always playing tricks on each other.”

Stephanie slowly explained the whole story to her, how the pageant had the boys playing girls’ parts and girls playing boys, and Michelle had teased her brother, and then Steven had looked in the closet, and the punishment was become a girl or lose his video game, and so Stephanie was born, and then she got asked to fill a spot in the wedding party, and then the school burned down, and somewhere along the way she realized she was supposed to be a girl all along, and just that day they’d enrolled her in a new school as a girl.

Shelby just sat there with her eyes widened. It was so unbelievable, yet Stephanie seemed so sincere. She scanned Stephanie’s face, trying to find some evidence of maleness lurking beneath the surface but it just wasn’t there. “I appreciate your honesty. I would still love for you to babysit for me some time, and I promise I won’t tell anyone your secret.” She bit her lip. “Um, but actually, I wanted to take you home for a different reason, but I didn’t want Grace to know.”

Stephanie got really embarrassed. She’d revealed her special situation to Shelby even though she really hadn’t needed to. She tried to smile anyway. “So what’s the real reason?”

“It’s going to seem like such a letdown after all that, but I wanted to ask your parents if I could take you to a movie. Maybe you’ve seen the ads — this movie, 27 Dresses, came out a few weeks ago. It’s about a girl who’s been a bridesmaid for all her friends without getting a wedding of her own, and so how perfect would that be if we could get all the bridesmaids in our wedding party together and go see it next Saturday, as a surprise for Grace, sort of an unofficial pre-bachelorette party? Well, anyway, it would be great if you could come with us, but it’s a PG-13, so I thought I’d better clear it with your folks. But especially since you shared your trans-gendered nature before accepting a babysitting job, I can tell you’re mature enough for a movie with a few naughty words in it, so I’m sure your parents couldn’t possibly object.”

She was right. Once Shelby explained her plan about the movie, Stephanie’s Mom and Dad said it was fine. They even okayed letting Stephanie babysit Tara at some indefinite point in the future, and were definitely impressed when Shelby told them Stephanie was honest with her about her gender. They were really starting to see their daughter in a new light.

(Thanks to Owd Bob for some superb proofreading!)

Stephanie’s Deal by Jennifer Brock Twelve-year-old Stephanie Brooks is an unusual girl. Until six weeks ago, she was living as a boy, but then a foolish decision to peek at her Christmas presents and a church pageant with a crisscrossed theme combined to create Stephanie’s girlhood as a punishment. But she eventually found that living as a girl fixed a lot of the things that weren’t quite right in her life before. She’s now friendlier, less withdrawn, and happier in general with things. In this episode, she learns more about her new school. As we begin, it’s the last day of January, 2008. (The author would like to apologize to her readers for taking so long to get this installment out. The wait for the next one won’t be nearly as long. The writing on it has already been started)

Episode 21

Thursday for Stephanie was a very nervous day. She did a bunch of research on the internet and ran through the textbooks she could find in the house in order to prepare for the placement tests she’d be taking on Friday. It was okay for the teachers at her old school to label her old self Steven as a loser, but Stephanie really didn’t want her new school to think she was stupid. She even surprised herself by how much she wanted to make a good impression. Getting good grades had never been important to her before; it was weird to actually want to work at it.

Stephanie hadn’t realized how long she’d been working until Mom made her stop and take a break to have some lunch. Over chicken soup and a mixed green salad, she told her daughter she was very proud of her for working so hard. “I’m glad to see you’re finally putting in the effort to fulfill your potential. Who’d have guessed that it would have taken this to encourage you to do it?”

Stephanie smiled shyly as her cheeks turned a pinker shade. “Thanks, Mom. I just don’t want them to start out thinking I’m some kind of screw-up. I mean, they’ve probably already got me down as a weirdo or something for wanting to be a girl.”

Mom leaned over and gave her a hug. “Honey, don’t ever let anyone make you think you’re a ‘weirdo.’ There is nothing wrong with being different from everyone else. You are a beautiful and unique snowflake. Besides, Hutchinson’s students have a reputation for being a little outside the norm. Didn’t you notice the students on our tour — there was a crayon box of hair colors, and I’m pretty sure I saw a boy younger than you with more baubles stuck in his face than in my entire jewelry box. (And before you ask, no you cannot pierce or tattoo anything, and your hair is staying its current color.) So for them to call you weird you’d have to be a bit more extreme than just a pretty young lady who happens to have a few differences in places no one can see. I’m also pretty sure I saw a couple of boys holding hands in the hallway, so you shouldn’t have to worry about being picked on for your willingness to explore your sexual identity. (And no, you’re not allowed to do anything sexual yet, at least not until you’re sixteen, and maybe not even after then.) I believe the founder of your school was a woman who preferred the company of other women, if you know what I mean, so acceptance was the theme from the beginning.” She stroked Stephanie’s cheek and wiped away a tear she hadn’t even realized was there. “You have nothing to worry about, Honey. I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

Stephanie’s face brightened. “That makes me feel better. Now I just need to do well on those tests.” She got a more serious expression. “But there is something I’d like your help with.”

“What’s that, Sweetie? I’m strongest in Math and English, but I remember a lot of History. I’m shaky in Science, so you’d best wait until your father gets home and ask him.”

She smiled and let out a little giggle. “Um, no. It’s not the school stuff. I’m just not sure what I ought to wear tomorrow, so I was wondering if you’d pick out an outfit for me like you did back when I first started. The more I read my magazines, the more confused I get about fashion. I’m okay on putting stuff together that matches, but I still don’t know what’s appropriate for when. I guess I should have tried to pay more attention to what the other girls were wearing on our tour.”

Mom tousled her hair playfully. “Sure, Sweetie. You’re right, though. Women have a lot more options and levels of formality in our wardrobes than men. But once you get the hang of it, it can be fun tweaking an ensemble just so for any occasion. I’ll make sure you look nice without seeming like you’re trying too hard. You’re in good hands.”

She thanked her again and cleared the table then went back to her studying. The afternoon blended into a haze of names and dates, facts and figures, words and numbers. By the time Dad came home from work and dinner was ready, her brain was fairly tired. Her parents saw how frazzled she was and forbid her from doing any more work after dinner. They played a fun game of Uno and then sent her upstairs early.

Mom suggested she take her bath before bed instead of in the morning; it might help her relax. She even put some of her own bath oil in the tub when she drew Stephanie’s bath, explaining that its aroma was supposed to help with stress. Strangely enough, it smelled just like the lavender oil that Stephanie had been secretly using to try to grow breasts. She laughed to herself and wondered if that meant boobs were good for relieving stress, and added a couple of her drops to the mix. She still couldn’t tell if it was working, though. There were only tiny lumps behind her pink nipples, which might have been there before she’d started. She spent extra time massaging both her herbal oils into her chest after her bath, and wished with all her might that she could look like a real girl.

The outfit her mother had selected for her the next morning was fairly casual. She put her in her red long-sleeved tee and her denim skirt, with knee socks and her sneakers. She said it would let her be comfortable for her test while still feeling feminine. Mom let Stephanie pick out her own jewelry, and she chose the charm bracelet Brian had given her, her silver star earrings, and a silver chain necklace that was mostly hidden inside her top. Her mother helped with her hair, brushing some volume into it and then holding it off her face with her red padded headband. The only makeup she wore was some lip gloss; it had gotten to the point where her lips felt really dry if she left them naked.

Dad had arranged his schedule so they all could eat breakfast together. Stephanie’s stomach was nervous, but she forced down a couple pieces of toast and some melon chunks, and drank most of her glass of apple juice. As they left, Daddy gave each of “his lovely ladies” a kiss, Mom on the lips and Stephanie on the forehead, and wished her luck.

They drove to the school and Mom gave their name to the receptionist in the office, and they only had to wait a little while before Ms. Lancaster came out and gave them a warm greeting. She called over Ms. Chu, a tiny Asian woman with beautiful green eyes that matched her dress. She would be Stephanie’s guidance counselor, and would be serving as proctor for her placement tests. She shook her hand and said she could call her Amy. She said she was one of the few people on staff who knew about Stephanie’s situation, and she should feel free to come see her any time she needed someone to talk to, about anything, even if it was something as simple as forgetting to bring a pen.

Her friendly personality really put Stephanie at ease. She was able to relax her nerves a little. Amy gave Mom her business card, and took down her phone number, and got the number of Stephanie’s cell too, for her records. She took the opportunity to ask Stephanie to turn off her ringer when she was in school. The school didn’t prohibit phones on campus like some public schools, but she was expected to use courtesy around her teachers and fellow students and not use her phone in a disruptive manner. That seemed fair.

Amy said that Stephanie’s tests would be broken into four fifty-minute blocks with ten-minute breaks in between. Mom had her choice of waiting around the school for four hours, or she could go away and come back when the tests were through. After making sure Stephanie was okay with it, she opted to go run some errands.

Amy brought Stephanie to a small room. The walls were a soft blue color, and there was a deep blue carpet on the floor. Natural light came through a wall of glass blocks, but it wasn’t clear enough that you could see outside. In the middle of the room was a table with some chairs around it. She gestured for Stephanie to take a seat, and let her take her jacket off and hang it over her chair. Then Amy pulled this flat rectangular thing out of her bag and set it on the table in front of Stephanie, then she pushed a button and Stephanie saw that it was like a computer screen without a computer attached to it.

Amy saw that she was confused and explained that she’d be taking her test on this tablet computer. She showed that you could just touch stuff on the screen to make it work, or there was this little pen thing for writing and stuff. Amy had her print “Stephanie Brooks” in the little box, and she smiled inside to realize that it was officially her name.
Amy then showed her how each question would appear on the screen, and it usually would have her pick a multiple choice button or write a short answer in a box before going on to the next question. She could skip any questions she didn’t understand and would be able to go back and review her answers if there was time left. It seemed to make sense. Amy hit a button, and a little clock appeared in the corner showing her how much time was left, and how many questions.

Amy then went and sat on the other side of the table, but not directly opposite Stephanie. She pulled a paperback out of her bag and started reading so as not to make her feel to self-conscious.

The questions weren’t too hard. It started with math stuff, and it wasn’t even making her do problems. There was just a list of terms, and she had to check a box if she’d heard of them. Then there was a section where she had to do some equations with the pen in a space provided, so they’d be able to see all her work. These were a little trickier, but nothing she couldn’t handle, at least at first. But toward the end it started talking about sins and cousins and stuff she’d never seen before.

She made a little frustrated grunt, and Amy looked over at her. “Don’t worry if you get stuck on an answer. These tests are just to see which classes to place you in, and it goes up to past your previous grade level, just to see if you’d been in any accelerated programs. It’s just as useful to us to find out what you don’t know as what you do, so don’t get too upset if you don’t understand something.”

Stephanie sniffled. “Okay.” She skipped that weird stuff and flipped forward to see if there was anything in there she liked. It had a section about shapes that looked interesting, but then it turned out to be all about figuring out if triangles matched. She didn’t like know the way to tell, but she used her intuition to figure it out.

There was time left at the end, so she flipped back through her answers and double checked them, and then there was still some more time, so she used the workspace for one of the questions she didn’t have a clue about, and used the pen thing to draw a doodle of a smiling stick figure of herself, with curly hair and a little triangle skirt and everything, and she added a cartoon balloon saying, “I don’t know this stuff,” just to make it clear. She was about to add some finishing touches when the computer made a little chirpy noise that meant her time was up.

Amy took the computer and stuck a memory stick in it, and the screen turned blue and it said “Data submitted.” Then she said Stephanie could take a break, and showed her where the restroom was, and pointed out some vending machines in the hall if she wanted a snack or a drink.

She cautiously chose to go to the bathroom. It was weird that there was only one for both boys and girls. Inside it looked more like a large bathroom from someone’s house than public restrooms she’d been in before. One wall had a row of sinks, each one taller than the one before it, with a mirror above each one, and fancy electric hand dryers in between. The outside wall had more of those glass blocks, so it was bright but no one would be peeking in.

The wall opposite the sinks had a row of doors, real doors not the stall doors you usually see. Stephanie opened one and found a toilet. Like the sinks, they were at increasing heights as you went along, so she ended up using the third one. The little cubicle had a little shelf behind the toilet where she could set her purse. A light came on when she went in, and there was also some natural light coming in through a frosted glass window above the door. It was completely different from the one in her old school.

She finished up and went to wash her hands. The soap dispenser, the faucet, and the hand dryer were all the kind you didn’t need to touch and came on when your hand was in the right place. She gave her lips a fresh coat of gloss and realized that there was writing on the frame of the mirror. It said, “You are someone.” She wasn’t sure what that was supposed to mean; after all everybody was somebody, but it made her feel kind of nice.

The next test was about science. A bunch of the questions were similar to some of the math ones, and just asked her if she’d ever heard of certain terms. To keep her honest, she had to write a couple of words on each one she thought she’d seen before. It meant she couldn’t guess, so that was bad, and it left her feeling kind of stupid that she didn’t know too many of them.

But then the test got kind of fun, and had a part where it would like tell a little story and she had to answer some questions about it. Like one said that a chimpanzee got chased by a tiger and he had to climb a coconut tree and hang from a branch by its tail so it could use all four of its hands and feet to throw coconuts at the tiger, and she had to say what was wrong with that story. It was more like a cool kind of riddle than a test question. Stephanie liked these little puzzles, and she was kind of sad when she got to the last one.

She was in the mood for a snack, and checked out the vending machines during her second break. They weren’t like the ones at her old school. Instead of sodas, the drink machine had milk, water, and a couple of different fruit juices from weird fruits as well as familiar apple and grape. They all came in glass bottles, and there was a rack next to the machine for collecting the empties. It was a real surprise when this little little boy, who must have been like three or four went up to the machine and selected a bottle of milk. That a little kid would be trusted not to break the bottle seemed so weird! Stephanie bought a bottle of pink strawberry/pomegranate juice that was not as sweet as she’d expected, but good.

The snack machine was even more bizarre. It didn’t have candy or chips or the stuff you’d usually get in a machine. Instead there were fresh fruits on these rotating rack things, and even some vegetables, too. She got a pear that was so juicy she probably could have skipped the drink. There was snow on the ground and she was eating a pear that tasted like it had just been picked. This school was different, but some of the differences were pretty good.

The next test was on history and stuff. This time they asked the questions differently. In the first section, each page listed a bunch of events and she had to put them in order. Some of the U.S. history stuff she was pretty sure of, but there was some foreign country stuff she just plain didn’t know. One weird page was like something from church where it wanted her to put the writings of Jesus, Moses, Mohammed, Buddha, and a bunch of guys she’d never heard of in order from first published to last. She thought it was a trick question, because one of the guys was named “Joseph Smith” and that seemed like such a fake name. She called the teacher (or whoever made the test)’s bluff and wrote on that page, “There’s probably a million guys named Joe Smith. How am I supposed to know who you mean?”

The second section wanted more writing. It said stuff like, “If you had a magic time machine and could arrange a meeting between a Babylonian and a Toltec, what do you think they’d have in common to talk about? What would change if it was two farmers versus two soldiers?” On a lot of those, Stephanie just didn’t understand the questions. She left some of them blank, and on others just answered truthfully with an answer like, “They’d probably agree that it was pretty freaky being transported by some stranger with a magic time machine, and wonder why I used my amazing powers to bring them together. The two soldiers might be more likely to try to force me to send them back with threats.”

That test really made her feel dumb, and when she took her bathroom break afterwards, she let herself have a little cry in the bathroom. But Amy was too sharp and noticed that her eyes were a little red, and asked her what was the matter. Stephanie said she was afraid the school would decide they didn’t want her after they saw how horrible she did on these tests, and she’d have to go back to her old school, and her old life and her old clothes and...

Amy gave her a comforting hug and said that Stephanie didn’t need to worry; the school wasn’t going to send her away. It wasn’t a bad thing if she didn’t know all the answers on the tests; in fact they needed to ask questions she couldn’t answer to in order to figure out what they could teach her. She said that Dr. Nolan, the head of the Math Department, had already reviewed the first test Stephanie had taken, and he said she had a solid conceptual grounding and should be able to handle the sixth grade curriculum. He also said that she had a delightful creative attitude, and recommended that she take a computer programming lab to help her understanding of algebra. Amy explained that when her mother came back after all the tests, they’d work out her schedule.

She also said that Ms. Lucas was very excited about Stephanie’s artistic talent, so she should stop worrying about being sent away. There was nothing she could do on these performance exams that could be called failing the test. Stephanie had already been accepted and was now a member of the Hutchinson School family; the only way she’d be leaving would be if it was her decision. Amy even said that even if her parents changed their minds and wanted to send her some place else, if Stephanie felt she belonged at Hutchinson, they’d fight to keep her there. That was cool, but kind of scary at the same time.

When Stephanie had calmed down enough, Amy was ready for her to start the last test. This time the subject was English, and some of the questions would need longer written answers. Amy gave her the option of continuing writing longhand with the pen thing on the tablet, or she could give her a keyboard to type her answers. Stephanie chose the keyboard. Amy pulled a keyboard out of her back and flipped a switch to turn it on — it didn’t have a cord or anything; the computer just knew it was there. She also showed Stephanie how to pull a support out of the back of the tablet to stand it up like a regular monitor screen. She told Stephanie that even though she was allowed to type, she should avoid using texting abbreviations, and there wouldn’t be any automatic spelling checker running. Those rules seemed fine; Stephanie didn’t even know all those texting codes, and it seemed like every day Debbie was using a new one that she needed to work at to figure out.

This time the questions were a little weird. Instead of asking what things she’d heard of like in the other sections, it just had stuff like, “Write at least four paragraphs describing a meeting between two of the following characters: Huckleberry Finn, Dorothy Gale, Harry Potter, Anne Shirley, Johnny Tremain, or Oliver Twist.” It seemed like the teacher who wrote the question just assumed Stephanie would know who all those people were. Back when she was Steven, she’d read all the Harry Potter books, and seen most of the movies, but had no idea who the rest of those people were.

She decided to just write a funny little story where Harry cast a spell in the library and a bunch of storybook people came to life. (Stephanie assumed the rest of those characters were from other books, since this was an English test.) He then tried to strike up a conversation with this Huckleberry person, but no matter how much Harry told him about himself, all he’d get from the stranger was, “I was named after a fruit.” Stephanie was still a little giggly when she went on to the next question, which wanted her to write a description of the future from the point of view of the past.

The topic of the last essay was, “Tell us why you chose to attend The Hutchinson School, and describe what you hope to get out of your education here.” That made her nervous. She looked over at Amy and said, “Can I ask a question about this test?”

Amy shook her head, “Just answer the questions to the best of your abilities. There are no right or wrong answers.”

Stephanie’s forehead wrinkled. “I just want to know if the people who are going to see my answers already know about the boy/girl thing, because it wants to know why I want to come here, and part of my reason is that you’ll let me be a girl. But I don’t want to say that if they won’t know I’m not a real girl.”

Amy reached over and touched her hand. “You are real. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.” She smiled. “But you’re right. Someone other than the few of us who are aware of your situation will be reviewing your test, someone from the English department, probably Dr. Shields the department head. So if you don’t want to reveal your secret, you might want to leave that reason out of your essay, or just try be a little vague about it, like say that at Hutchinson we’ll let you be yourself, or something like that. Okay?”

Stephanie smiled back at her and went to work on her essay. She wrote about how she was pointed to Hutchinson by Ms. Lucas, who’s seen some of her artwork and thought she would be a good fit for their art program. And she wrote about how she was looking to change her old study habits, and was looking forward to getting a fresh start. It was almost like she had the opportunity to become a whole new person, someone she’d be proud to be.

She finished her essay with a little time to spare. The whole thing left her feeling worn out and tired. She let out a heavy sigh and rested her head down on the table. Amy walked over, gave her a little pat on the back, and then took the computer. She stuck her little memory stick in it, and submitted Stephanie’s essays. Amy told Stephanie she could rest as long as she needed, or take another restroom break, and left her alone in the room.

Stephanie stayed on the table for a bit, then stood up, stretched, then grabbed her purse and went out to the fancy bathroom again. This time when she walked in there was a boy at the sink washing his hands. She nearly panicked about going into the wrong room, and had to fight to calm down so he didn’t think she was some kind of spaz. She closed her eyes for a second and took a deep breath, and then picked out a stall. It would take a while for her to get used to these shared bathrooms.

Eventually Mom showed up. Amy said that there was some time before they could do her schedule; her test answers hadn’t all been checked out yet. She offered to take them to lunch in the cafeteria. Stephanie hadn’t even realized it was lunchtime already, but the idea of food started her stomach gurgling.

Just like everything else, the cafeteria was totally different from the one in her old school. It was a big room with really high ceilings that had skylights on top. The tables were real wood and looked like furniture people would have in their actual houses, and they were surrounded by real chairs instead of the big industrial metal tables with attached benches she’d had in the public school.

For the most part, kids were sitting with others their own age, but every so often she’d see older and younger kids eating together; she wondered if they were related or something. Her old school had a separate lunch room for the staff, but here the teachers were mixed in with the kids, sometimes sitting with a group of students or sometimes just one on one.

Amy led them to the line in the back of the room for the hot lunch. She ran her id card through a slot in a machine at the front of the line and pulled a metal tray, then did it twice more and handed one to each of them. They could smell the food cooking in the kitchen, and Mom commented that it looked very healthy. Amy pointed out that everything was prepared with fresh ingredients, and there were special selections for vegetarians or students with allergies. The nice lady behind the counter served them a delicious-smelling stir-fried chicken with vegetables over brown rice. The same beverages in the glass bottles from the vending machine were available; Stephanie wanted some more of that juice, but Mom told her to get milk instead.

There was also a well-stocked salad bar, with a nice variety of fresh fruits for dessert. They took their trays and went to an empty table. Amy waved to a few people as they walked through the room, both students and staff. Ms. Lucas noticed Stephanie and waved at her, too. All in all, it felt like a very friendly place. It also wasn’t as loud as she’d have expected such a big room to be. People were talking, but no one was shouting. It almost didn’t seem real.

After lunch, Amy showed them how they separated all the lunch trash. Food waste went in one garbage can that would get added to the school’s compost bin. The glass bottles got collected for reuse, and there was another bin for recyclable bottles and cans brought in from outside. The trays with dirty dishes went in a slot that led to the dish washers. And the smallest trashcan was for non-recyclable, non-organic waste. Amy was proud to point out that it was empty.

They went back to Amy’s office, and she checked her email. The teachers had all looked over Stephanie’s test answers and made their recommendations. The good news was that the English teacher said she was better than average at composition, but the bad news was that he felt she needed more exposure to literature. Also, the history teacher declared her to be “naíve and ill-informed.” She did okay on science, scoring around where they expected a student at her grade level to land.

Based on all those recommendations, they worked together to build Stephanie’s class schedule. The really really good news was that Ms. Lucas had suggested several different art classes for Stephanie, and Amy seemed to think that she should take them all. It was totally different from her old school, where there was just one hour of art every other week. She’d now be getting six hours a week in the drawing and painting studio, two hours of ceramics, two hours of “mixed media,” (whatever that was) and an hour and a half of doing computer art in the digital media lab.

Another weird thing was that even though they didn’t have any competitive sports teams, the school thought that physical education was important, so Stephanie had to have an hour of some kind of movement class every day. Amy showed them a list of possibilities. Mom pointed out that one of the options was a yoga class, and she thought it might be fun, plus it would be incentive to make her get back into going to her own yoga class regularly. Stephanie thought it might be nice to have something in common with her mother, so she said to sign her up for that. The beginner class was only two days a week, so she had to pick something else.

She’d been enjoying her ballroom dance class, and there were a few other kinds of dancing on the list. Mom vetoed ballet, because she said it ruined your feet and gave you an eating disorder. Amy tried to say that their classes weren’t that intense, but she stayed firm. She also vetoed tap dancing, on the theory that she didn’t want a headache from listening to her practicing at home. It was so frustrating! She finally accepted letting Stephanie take up folk dancing. That sounded kind of corny, but Amy said they did some cool dances from all over the world. Maybe it would be okay.

Stephanie saw a Tai Chi class on the list, and thought that might be cool, since it was like karate and stuff. Mom agreed way too quickly, and had a strange smile on her face, but she didn’t share what seemed so funny. Amy just shrugged and signed her up.

Stephanie needed one more physical activity. Amy asked her if she’d like an hour of unstructured playground recess. That seemed like it was just something for little kids, but Amy assured her that there were students older than Stephanie who sometimes chose that option. It’s good to get out in the fresh air every once in a while.

The other interesting rule was that all students had to take some sort of music class. Stephanie was leery of doing any singing; she was afraid that her voice might start changing like boy voices do. Amy tried to tell her that she was too young for that, but Stephanie was almost crying over it, so she let it go and asked what instrument she’d want to play. She looked over the list of possible instruments and asked her mother if practicing a flute would cause her headaches. Mom smiled and said that was a good choice.

The rest of her schedule was normal-ish stuff. She had an hour of social studies every day, to teach her the history stuff she needed so badly. She had a couple hours of science class, and three hours of math class a week, plus a two-hour computer programming lab that was supposed to relate to her math; it could be cool or it could be lame. Maybe she’d be making fun games or things, or maybe it would be stupid stuff like her mother’s accounting spreadsheets.

Her English classes actually sounded kind of interesting. She had a class every day, but they weren’t all the same. She got a creative writing class two days a week, where instead of just learning grammar and spelling and vocabulary, she’d actually be making stories. One day a week was specific literature study, where she’d be in a class that would all read the same books and discuss it. The other two days she had an hour of free time in the library, where all she had to do is read; that was it. It was crazy, but if that was how this school thought she’d learn, she was all for it!

Amy printed Stephanie’s schedule out, and gave her a map of the campus. Then she handed her colored highlighter pens and had her color-code her schedule, then find where each of her classrooms was located, and place a colored dot on the map. Amy then gave her a folder to put the schedule and the map into, and gave her a couple more papers. One was a list of school supplies suggested for all new students and the other was a list of rules that all students were expected to follow. She gave them to Mom to look over.

Amy then took Stephanie into another room and had her sit on a stool in front of a fancy blue curtain while a camera took her picture. A couple minutes later, she handed her a warm plastic card with a magnetic stripe on the back and her picture on the front, declaring her to be Stephanie T. Brooks, Hutchinson student. She was official! There was a hole in her ID where her choice of three different ways to wear it could be snapped in: a chain for wearing it around her neck, a strap for looping it around a belt, or a clip for fastening it to her clothes. Amy said that most girls Stephanie’s age went with the clip, although the chain was more convenient. It was something to think about.

Amy finally escorted them to the exit. Stephanie gave her a hug, thanked her for everything she’d done for her, and said she see her on Monday. She was in such a good mood she practically skipped out to the car. Mom was smiling too. She was glad to see her child feeling so positive about school, regardless of the twisted route it took to get there.

They had a little free time before Stephanie’s appointment with Dr. Howard, so Mom swung by a store first to pick up the school supplies on her list. Stephanie had to plead to convince her mother that she needed a new book bag; Mom thought she could just use the Barbie backpack she’d used at New Year’s, but she insisted that it was made for a much younger girl. They had to get one of the other ladies shopping to break the tie, and she agreed with Stephanie — yay! Mom did have to pick the color though, so of course she ended up with a pink backpack. But it was a pale pink not that in-your-face Barbie pink, so maybe it would be okay.

Her appointment with Dr. Howard went very well. Stephanie talked nonstop about how excited she was to be going to Hutchinson, and being a girl, and having all those art classes, and she promised she’d work hard on her other classes and try not to let everyone down for giving her this opportunity. She thanked her therapist several times for helping her find the school where she was sure she belonged.

Dr. Howard made some notes and told Stephanie she seemed to be handling things very well, and they could cut back to having appointments only once a week, on Tuesdays later in the day so she’d already be out of school. Mom checked her appointment book and said that would be acceptable.

Stephanie really felt like her life finally made sense, and hoped it was a feeling that would last.

Stephanie’s Deal by Jennifer Brock When Steven Brooks was forced to dress as a girl over Christmas break, it was supposed to have been a punishment. Instead, it opened his eyes to how things just made more sense if she were female. Stephanie, as she’s now known, has been seeing a psychiatrist and hopes to be diagnosed as officially transgender, so they’ll give her hormones and operations and stuff to make her a girl for real. In this episode, Stephanie follows up on some plans she made in previous episodes, as she goes on a shopping trip to the mall with her friend Debbie, and goes over to her boyfriend’s for a Super Bowl party. It’s Feb 1, 2008, and she’s just spent the day taking placement exams at her new school.

Episode 22

Stephanie was so excited about the way she’d be treated at Hutchinson that she couldn’t stop talking to her mother about all the cool things there over the whole drive home. Mom was amazed to see her offspring finally ready to embrace the potential she’d always known was there. She couldn’t help smiling.

Stephanie’s phone made its little chime noise that meant she had a new text message. It was from Debbie, reminding her that they had plans. She said that after her mother picked her up from school, they’d swing by Stephanie’s house and pick her up, then they’d head over to the mall. Debbie told Stephanie to find out if it was okay for her to have dinner with them.

Mom gave her permission, and said that since Stephanie was going shopping she should pick up some new school clothes for herself. She said that Debbie’s mother had good taste, but probably shopped at pricey stores, so she pulled a bunch of money out of her purse and made Stephanie put it in hers. She counted it before putting it away, and it was nearly two hundred dollars! Stephanie was impressed by how much trust her mother had in her, and told her she’d try to spend it on good deals; as she understood it that was important. Shopping was supposed something girls loved to do all the time, and she didn’t want it to be obvious that she was a total rookie; it might make people wonder.

When a big, fancy silver car pulled up in the driveway, Debbie got out and came to the door. She was carrying a duffle bag and asked Stephanie if she could see her room. She shrugged and brought Debbie upstairs.

Debbie looked around. “It’s, like, really pink in here. Was it like this before your sex change?”

Stephanie blushed. Her first instinct was to try to defend her old boy self, that he wasn’t some kind of sissy; of course the pink bedding and stuff wasn’t always there. But then she wasn’t sure if that meant she wasn’t a real girl inside. Shouldn’t she have always wanted girlish things? She didn’t know what to say. “My mom redid my room back when I started being a girl. I don’t really notice the pink anymore.”

Debbie dropped her bag on the bed. “Thanks for letting me change. It’s a stupid rule, but even at the end of the day we’re not allowed in street clothes on campus. There’s no way I’d want to go to the mall like this.” She started taking off her jacket.

Stephanie realized that Debbie’s smart outfit of a navy pleated skirt and blazer over a red sweater vest with a crisp white blouse underneath was actually a school uniform. In fact, the fancy little shield thing embroidered on the front of her blazer looked a lot like the one on the jacket Christopher wore. “Hey! Do you go to Lawnbrook? That’s where my dance partner in my cousin’s wedding goes. Maybe you know him; his name is Christopher, um… Actually, I don’t know his last name. That’s not good. His sister is going to be family. I should make an effort to learn their name. He’s like older than us, anyway, so I guess you probably wouldn’t have a lot of classes together.”

Stephanie looked up to see that Debbie had also taken off her skirt and sweater, and was almost finished unbuttoning her blouse. She tried not to stare as she saw her friend standing there in just her bra and panties. Her bright yellow underthings somehow made her cocoa skin look darker. She probably wasn’t showing more than a bathing suit would, but it still seemed like Stephanie was seeing something she wasn’t supposed to. She’d never seen anyone she wasn’t related to in their underwear before, especially not a girl.

Debbie caught her looking and winked. “Am I hot enough to make you want to turn back?” She stuck out her hip and struck a pose. Stephanie turned bright red and tried to explain, but Debbie cut her off. “I’m just teasing. I know you’re all girl. I’ve seen boys looking at girls, and that’s not in your eyes. Relax, Girlfriend!” She reached out and tickled Stephanie’s ribs, and soon they were both giggling and tickling and it didn’t seem to matter anymore how they were or weren’t dressed.

Eventually, Debbie decided that her mother would get mad if they made her wait to long, so she got dressed in an orange tank top, a pair of black jeans that skimmed her hips, and a red hoodie. She folded up her uniform and put it back in her duffle bag, and then took out her purse. She swapped the tiny studs in her ears for more noticeable gold hoops, put on some fresh lip gloss, fluffed her hair a little, and she was ready.

Stephanie asked if what she was wearing was okay. Debbie looked her over, and had her spin around a couple times. She thought Stephanie needed to change her jewelry to something prettier. Stephanie wanted to keep her charm bracelet, so she just changed her earrings from stars to dangly silver chains. Debbie gave them her thumbs up. Stephanie grabbed her handbag and the girls went trotting on down the stairs.

Debbie’s mother didn’t seem too upset that they’d taken so long; she must have gotten used to how long her daughter took to get ready. The girls got in the back seat and she waited until they’d buckled their seatbelts before starting the car and driving off to the mall. She really took her shopping seriously; she drove a couple laps around the parking garage until she found a spot she liked, and then made the girls leave their jackets in the car. She said that it was so they wouldn’t be constantly taking them off and putting them back on in the changing rooms, where they might forget them. The stores were heated anyway; they’d probably have just ended up sweating uncomfortably if they kept them on. It was worth a chilly walk through the garage.

In the first store they went to, Stephanie saw these clothes that were called “yoga pants,” and she said that she was going to take a yoga class, so maybe she needed a pair. There was a rack of coordinating tops nearby, and Debbie’s mom told her that it was better not to get pieces the same color, but to pick colors that worked well together instead. She said that it wasn’t good to look too “matchy-matchy.” Stephanie just nodded as if that made sense.

Stephanie chose a pair of pants in a pastel orange color that reminded her of sherbet, and they picked out a pale yellow top to go with it. It was sort of a cross between a camisole and a tank top, with thin little straps with buckles for adjusting the fit. She tried them on in the fitting room, and everything fit nice, but she wasn’t sure how it looked and went out to show them.

Debbie’s mom thought the pants looked okay, but told Stephanie that because the fabric was thin and the fit was tight, she ought to wear a thong panty with them. Apparently, “visible panty lines” were a major fashion mistake for a girl to make. People weren’t supposed to see the outline of your underpants through your clothes. Stephanie asked if it was just as bad that her bra straps were showing, and Debbie and her mom disagreed over whether having several straps on display on your shoulders was in fashion.

Debbie’s mom said that part of the problem was that for yoga, Stephanie would be wearing a sports bra, instead of a regular one, she she’d have a different style of strap showing and the look that Debbie thought was cute wouldn’t be happening. Stephanie didn’t own any sports bras, so she didn’t know what the difference was. Mrs. Washington asked the fitting room attendant to hold the yoga clothes for them, and then led the girls over to the “Intimates” department to get Stephanie the right undergarments.

Stephanie was in awe to be shopping in the grownup women’s underwear section, since the last time she went out with her own mother they got her stuff in the girls’ department. But Debbie’s mom said that since she was almost a teenager she probably would take a small size in juniors’ clothes, and the lingerie selection was better than what she’d find in the girls’.

She picked out a three-pack of size XS thong-style panties in varied colors that she thought would fit Stephanie. They were a cotton/spandex blend, so they were stretchier than she was used to, but they still seemed awfully tiny. Debbie’s mother had to call over the store lady to help find a sports bra for Stephanie. She asked if they had one in Stephanie’s size with a little bit of padding, explaining very delicately that she wasn’t quite as developed as her classmates. The assistant nodded knowingly, and said that she remembered how rough it could be for the late bloomers in gym class. She wrapped a measuring tape around Stephanie’s chest and took a couple measurements, then led them to a 30AA sports bra with well-defined foam cups.

She wanted her to try it on and led her to the changing booths right there in the bra department. Stephanie was a little afraid to go back there alone with her. Debbie could sense her nervousness and asked if she could go along to give her a second opinion on how it looked. Stephanie was relieved and welcomed her.

Stephanie was so scared that the lady would be able to tell that she wasn’t a real girl that she was shaking a little when she took her shirt off. But it seemed like she didn’t need to worry, because even when she’d taken her bra off and the shop assistant was helping her into the new one, all she said was that Stephanie didn’t need to be embarrassed about developing slowly. She winked and said that often the girls who get their boobs last get the best ones, and she should take her word for it, as a professional bra fitter she’d seen a lot of them.

Debbie’s mother called through the curtain to ask how it was going, and they said it seemed to fit. She came and joined them, and brought a few more bras for Stephanie to try on. One was another sports bra, only this one clipped in the front and had a single strap in the back. The others were actual grownup bras with underwires and lace and pads in the cups that were made to push your boobs up. Stephanie was surprised to see that those bras made the little bit of softness on her chest look like actual girl boobs.

She changed back to her original clothes, and they went to the cash register to ring up her order. She ended up getting two sports bras in that first style, a white one and a gray one, so she’d have a spare in case she had a really sweaty gym class. She decided not to get the one with the weird back, but she did get three of the lacy bras, in white, pink and purple. The lady pointed out that there were matching panties available for those, and Debbie ran off to get them for Stephanie. They were just as lacy and looked very grownup. The purple one was a thong and Debbie said it would be very sexy, but Stephanie wasn’t sure she wanted to be. The other two were what she called a “string bikini,” with a thin strap of elastic on the sides, but a full back. She trusted Debbie’s opinion and bought them, along with the pack of thongs they’d already picked.

The lady told Debbie’s mother the total, but Stephanie corrected her and pulled her money out of her purse. It made her feel very grown up to pay for her new grownup undies with her own money. She could even kind of understand why girls were supposed to like shopping so much. She was excited about having new things to wear, even if no one else would be seeing these particular things.

They went back to the other changing room and Mrs. Washington showed the girl Stephanie’s receipt so she could take some of her new things in with her. She stripped down and changed into her new white thong and sports bra. The thong felt kind of weird going where underpants weren’t supposed to go, but it seemed to cover everything that was supposed to stay covered. She still looked like a girl where it mattered most. She put her yoga clothes on again and went out to show them how it looked.

She got two thumbs up for her invisible panty lines, but the bra straps showing through weren’t working. Debbie’s mom went back to the rack and got Stephanie another top. This one was a more traditional-looking tank top or sleeveless t-shirt, made of the same soft fabric. It was a pale green color. She told Stephanie to take off the spaghetti strap top and put the tank on, but then put the other one back on top of it. She pointed out that layering clothes like that was one of the essential tools in a girl’s fashion toolbox. Not only did it add interest to an outfit, but it allowed you to get completely different looks from the same basic elements. They looked pretty cool together, so Stephanie bought all three pieces.

They shopped around in that first store some more, and Debbie got a couple nice tops, but nothing else really caught Stephanie’s eye; she tried on a couple things that Debbie’s mom recommended, but she decided not to get them. In the second store they went to, both girls found some things they liked in the juniors’ department, and Mrs. Washington left them to browse accessories while she went to check on a sale over in shoes. Debbie saw a rack of cute bracelets and convinced Stephanie to try a couple on.

While helping fasten a clasp, Debbie whispered to Stephanie that there was a creepy guy that seemed to be following them. He’d been a couple rows over when they were looking at skirts, and had gotten closer when they were checking the colors on scarves against the tops they’d picked out, and now he was only like twenty feet away and pretending not to stare at them. She warned Stephanie that they might have to scream and run if he came any closer. She glanced over and saw the guy she meant, an older bald pudgy guy in a rumpled suit.

It was an aspect of being a girl that Stephanie hadn’t thought about before. She was feeling very nervous and vulnerable, and envied how cool Debbie was acting over the whole thing. It came as a great relief when she saw Debbie’s mom walking back over. She could tell something was wrong, and asked the girls what was the matter. Debbie softly told her about the creepy guy and tilted her head in his direction.

She boldly strode over to the guy and got in his face. “Mister, the way you’ve been following my daughter and her friend around is making them uncomfortable. Maybe it’s just a coincidence, or maybe you’re a pervert who gets off on watching underage girls. Either way, I strongly suggest that you go shop in some other store in the mall for a while and leave them alone. Or do I need to call security?” She was so awesome, like a super heroine or something.

The guy just kind of laughed at that. “Actually, ma’am, I am store security. I was keeping an eye on those girls to make sure they weren’t taking anything.” He leaned in toward her and lowered his voice. “And it’s not your daughter that I was worried about as much as her friend. She better fits the profile, if you know what I mean. We can’t be too careful letting a girl like that in a store like this unsupervised.”

Stephanie was mortified. This guy had not only figured out that she wasn’t what she appeared to be, but also had decided that since she was dishonest about her sex she must also be dishonest in general. It took every ounce of her willpower to keep from crying.

Debbie’s mother’s face broke into a huge smile, but it seemed kind of fake. She said to the guy, “Just to make sure, let’s all four of us go to a register and ring all this up. You can personally check to make sure that my daughter’s friend didn’t slip any merchandise into her bag. After all, we can never be sure of Those People. Where is the nearest register? In fact, I think it would be best if we found one attended by a manager or department supervisor on duty, just to let Little Miss Potential Delinquent here know how serious this is.”

Stephanie looked over at Debbie to find out what was happening with her mom, but she just shrugged. They dutifully followed the adults over to a counter in a nearby department.

The guy looked through the shopping bags the girls had been carrying, and even went into Debbie’s pocketbook, although he didn’t bother checking Stephanie’s when she held it out. The lady behind the counter tallied up all their stuff, even Stephanie’s. She tried to tell her that her things should have been rung up separately, but Debbie’s mom cut her off.

She smiled at the cashier. “Thank you. I just wanted a total, so you’d know exactly how large a sale you lost today. I won’t be buying any of this from you.”

The lady looked confused. “Is there a problem, Ma’am?”

She pointed her thumb at the guy. “Does this excuse for a man truly work security here?”

He got upset at that. “Hey! What did I do to you, Mrs. … I didn’t catch your name?”

She flashed a new smile, one that looked genuine this time but also kind of scary. “Actually, it’s ‘Dr,’ not ‘Mrs.’ As in I make enough money to have a platinum card for this store.” She pulled a credit card from her wallet. “And as you can see here, it’s Dr. Gillespie-Washington, that’s Washington as in I married a beautiful chocolate man and had our lovely mocha daughter here.” She wrapped her arm around Debbie’s shoulder. “This one over here is her friend.” She reached out and pulled Stephanie closer. “And three of us are going to leave this store and go spend twice as much as we would have spent here over at your competition. Their prices might not be as great, but to the best of my knowledge their security policy isn’t set by racists. There’s just one more thing I need to do.” She reached into her purse and pulled out a pair of scissors, and cut her store credit card into pieces in front of them, and then put the scissors and the pieces back into her purse. “Just to let you know I’m serious about not coming back here. Let’s go, girls.”

She led them out of the store without giving the people a chance to reply. They walked out into the mall and collapsed on a bench not too far down. Stephanie was still pretty shaken. “I don’t get what went on in there, but thanks for sticking up for me. I guess he could tell I wasn’t a real girl, so he thought I was a criminal.”

Debbie’s mother smiled at her, a real one with warmth and caring. “Honey, that jerk wasn’t talking about you.” She gave a little chuckle. “He thought you were my daughter and Debbie was the friend. He looked at you and only saw color. He figured the blonde white girl was mine, and the black girl was some kind of hoodlum from the ghetto. It had nothing to do with your, um, special situation. I’m pretty sure he saw you for exactly what you are, a lovely young lady.”

Stephanie sniffled a little. “Thanks. So, is it true that you’re a doctor? Should I call you Dr. Gillespie-Washington instead of Mrs. Washington?”

“Yes, I am a doctor. But any friend of Debbie’s is a friend of mine. You can call me Julia.” She put an arm around each of the girls.

Debbie leaned against her mom. “You know, I love Daddy and everything, but sometimes I wish I looked more like you. Stef, I’d give anything to have your hair.”

Stephanie sighed. “I wish I had your body. Want to trade?” An idea hit her. “Hey! Mrs. Dr Julia? You’re a doctor, so does that mean you could give me a subscription to hormone pills that would turn me into a girl?”

Debbie’s mother laughed. “I’m sorry, but I can’t. First, you’re not my patient, so it would be unethical to prescribe drugs to you. Second, I’m an oral surgeon, and I can’t think of any dental condition that would warrant hormone treatments, so I could get in trouble with the ADA. And finally, you’re a minor; I’d need your parents’ consent before giving you any medication. Are you serious about wanting to change your body permanently? This isn’t just some kind of phase you’re going through?”

Stephanie nodded. “I’ve never been so sure about something as I am about knowing that I should be a girl. My psychiatrist says she’ll see about getting me girl hormones, but she’s making me wait until summer, and that’s like forever. Some day I’d like to go bra shopping and not need a padded one.”

Debbie tried to cheer her up. “There’s a lot of girls in my class that don’t have any more than you do inside their bras. I’ve seen them in gym class. Even if you don’t start until summer, you probably won’t be the last girl you know to get boobs. It does suck that you won’t have them by bikini season, though.” She thought for a moment. “Hey, Mom! If we go to Florida again next winter, can she come with us? Maybe she’d be bikini-ready by then, and that way she’d only have to wait half a year instead of a whole one to wear one.”

Her mother nodded. “That sounds like a possibility, Honey. Of course we’d have to talk it over with your father and her parents, but it might be nice for you to have someone your own age along.” She stood up. “But now, Ladies, we still have some more shopping to do, and get the sweetest revenge we can on that idiot back there. Let’s go.” The girls hopped off the bench and followed her to the really fancy department store at the other end of the mall.

Julia insisted on buying some things for Stephanie in the new store, since she hadn’t been able to get herself the items she’d picked out at the last one. She saw a display of leggings, kind of a cross between pants and tights, and explained that they were great for layering under a dress or skirt in cooler weather. Stephanie didn’t have any, so she got her three pairs, and then set about showing her how to use them in an outfit and ended up also getting her 2 new dresses, a sweater, a pair of fun red suede boots, and some pretty earrings with dangly black beads. It was too much, but she wouldn’t let Stephanie refuse to take her gifts. She thanked her very much.

On their way out of the mall, Stephanie’s eye was drawn to a cart that was selling sports t-shirts. She told Debbie and her mother about how she had been invited to her boyfriend’s to watch the Super Bowl, so maybe she should get a Giants shirt to show that she supported his team. She picked out a nice blue shirt, while spilling everything about her date. Debbie’s mom was surprised to learn that she had a boyfriend, and even more so when Debbie told her that it was Brian Somers from church. Julia told Stephanie to tell Brian’s mother she said hello.

It was getting late when they left the mall, so they had Stephanie phone home and ask if she could go over to the Washingtons’ for dinner. Her mom said that was fine, and so Julia called to warn her husband that the three of them were on their way. Debbie’s father, Dr. Ernest Washington, was also a dentist. He was tall and kind of scary, with wide shoulders and the darkest skin Stephanie had ever seen from that close. But he greeted her with a friendly smile that made her a lot less nervous.

It was interesting that in their house the dad always did the cooking. The lessons Stephanie’s mother had been teaching her had made her think of cooking as a girl thing, but here was a very manly man at home in his kitchen. Mr. Dr. Washington made a spicy noodle dish he said was from Thailand. The noodles were special extra-thin spaghetti-like stuff, and on top of them was this mixture of vegetables and chunks of chicken in a yummy sauce unlike anything Stephanie had ever tasted before. She asked him if she could have the recipe. For dessert, probably because they were dentists, he served slices of fresh pears. They were juicy and delicious, even though he had to talk for way too long about how wonderful modern technology was, so people could eat fresh fruit in January. He was funny.

After dinner, Debbie pleaded with her parents to let Stephanie sleep over. At first her father was against the idea, since Stephanie was really a boy. But then Julia, the coolest lady in the world, explained to him that she’d spent the last few hours with Stephanie and didn’t see any boy there at all. She saw a girl who’d bought clothes to look pretty in for her boyfriend, so he needn’t be worried that she had any interest in Debbie as other than a friend. Plus, she hadn’t noticed Stephanie at any time staring at the other girls in the changing rooms. She even told her husband about how Stephanie had tried to see if Julia could prescribe hormones for her. As far as she was concerned Stephanie was just like other preteen girls, dreaming about growing boobs, not touching them. He respected his wife’s opinion and said Stephanie could spend the night.

Stephanie called up her own parents, and asked their permission. Her Mom wanted to talk to Debbie’s, who told her it wouldn’t be a bother. Stephanie had plenty of new clothes she could wear in the morning, and Debbie could lend her something to sleep in. The moms okayed the sleepover, and the girls squealed in delight.

Before going to bed, the three ladies put on a fashion show for the man of the house, showing him what they’d gotten at the mall. It was fun. Their audience of one sat in the living room, and one at a time they left the dining room to go show him what they had on. Stephanie felt like she was the only one nervous about being seen by Debbie and Julia in her underwear as they changed. Each of them had to walk to the middle of the room, turn around, and walk back. Stephanie didn’t watch the modeling shows that Debbie and her mother liked, so they had to show her what to do. By the end, they were all feeling silly and glamorous.

Debbie must have had friends over a lot, since she had two beds in her room and she was an only child. She looked through her dresser and picked out some pajamas for herself and for Stephanie, and then shockingly just started getting undressed with her in the room. It was one thing for Stephanie to have seen Debbie in her underwear before, but to put on her pajamas she had to get completely naked in front of her. Stephanie tried not to look, but Debbie’s body was just fascinating to her. Debbie had real girl boobs, not fake ones like hers. About the only thing they had the same size were their nipples, although hers were pink and Debbie’s were purple — that was weird.

Debbie caught Stephanie looking, and instead of getting embarrassed or quickly putting her top on, she made Stephanie get undressed while she watched. She’d given her what she called a “baby doll” style set that had a top that was like a cross between a short dress and a long tank top, and little shorts on the bottom. Stephanie tried to keep her panties on, but Debbie said the shorts were soft enough she wouldn’t need to. She had to get completely undressed in front of Debbie.

She pointed at Stephanie and wrinkled her face. “I don’t understand. You look just like a girl!”

Stephanie blushed, and quickly pulled on her shorts. “Things are taped up down there. Things I wish I didn’t have.”

“No, I mean even up top. You look just like some of the girls in my class. It’s almost like your boobs know they’re going to get their chance to grow. She reached out and touched Stephanie’s chest. “You know, I think you’ve even got buds. “ She took Stephanie’s hand and put it in place. “Feel that little lump behind the nipple? That’s how a boob starts out.” Then she shockingly brought Stephanie’s hand over to her own chest. “And after a few months you get this. That little bud is still in the middle there; you might be able to feel it.”

Stephanie felt weird, but gave her friend’s breast a little squeeze. She might have been able to feel something like what she’d felt on herself. She let go. “Thanks.” She pulled on her pajama top, which had a little elastic band built in below her bustline, and really made it look like she had something up there. “Debbie, can you keep a secret?”

Debbie got a serious expression on her face and made a fancy pattern in the air with her fingers. “Definitely. Anything for my BFF. I will take your secret to my death!” She leaned back on her bed, closed her eyes, and stuck her tongue out like a corpse.

Stephanie waited for Debbie’s resurrection before she continued. “Just like I told your mom, I really want a girl body, but the doctors won’t officially give me hormones yet.”
She took a deep breath before giving out her secret. “I went on the internet and found that there are these herbal things that were make boys grow boobs as a side effect, so I bought some and have been using them for about a month now. So I really hope you’re right about me starting to grow. You’re the only one I’ve told about this, so don’t say anything to anyone.”

Debbie stared, wide-eyed. “Wow. That’s like, so cool.” She gave Stephanie a hug, then pulled on her own nightgown. “If you want, we can share my bed instead of leaving you way over there. Sometimes it’s good to cuddle.”

Stephanie took her up on the offer, and she was right. It was nice to cuddle. Debbie’s parents checked in on them a couple times, and thought it was sweet and cute and innocent. They left the girls alone until morning. After breakfast, Stephanie got dressed in some of her new clothes and then Julia drove her home.

Stephanie was excited and eager to show her new things to her mother, so she brought all her shopping bags to her and told her about all the cool ways she could wear stuff, but when Mom saw her bag of lingerie she got really mad at her. She said that the things she’d gotten were inappropriate for a girl her age, and told Stephanie she was very disappointed. Stephanie said that Julia had shown her where to get her clothes, so she at least thought they were ok for a twelve-year-old. After all, she was almost a teenager.

Mom didn’t like it, but she’d told Stephanie to follow Julia’s fashion advice, and apparently that meant that she’d end up dressing in sexy underwear. She was having flashbacks to dealing with Stephanie’s sister Michelle at that age. The realization was hitting her that she’d have to deal with the nightmare that is raising a teenage girl all over again. The two of them spent the morning in separate rooms until Dad got home to referee.

Sunday morning, they tried a new church way over in Wallace. Their minister thought he was funny, and made a lot of sports jokes that just didn’t work. It was a shame they had to drive so far just for that, so they went out to a nice restaurant for lunch. Stephanie was nervous, but they got home with plenty of time to spare.

She changed out of her church dress and put on a layered outfit, with her long-sleeved red t-shirt under her new blue NY Giants t-shirt, and navy blue leggings under her red pleated skirt, and her sneakers. For jewelry she wore the silver charm bracelet Brian had given her and her silver star earrings. She did her hair with her red padded headband, and used plenty of Brian’s favorite strawberry lipgloss. She asked her mother if she looked sports fannish enough, but she just called her too cute for words and took her picture.

Dad said she was ready too quickly, and made her wait like a whole half hour before he said it was time to go. And it wasn’t because he needed time to get dressed, since he just changed his shirt to his Patriots sweatshirt and kept on the pants that he’d worn to church. Stephanie thought he was just sore with her because she was rooting for the other team.

As it turned out, they were still the first guests to arrive. Mrs. Somers met them at the door to take their coats, and told Stephanie that she should go see if Brian was still getting dressed. Stephanie’s Dad asked if it was a good idea to let the two of them be alone , but Brian’s mom just laughed and said that there was nothing to worry about, seeing as how Stephanie was really a boy.

That stung, but Stephanie tried not to show it. She went down the hall to Brian’s room. The door wasn’t quite closed, so she gave a quick knock and pushed it open. He was standing there in just his jeans, with his shirt off. She took a good look at him and saw that his chest looked nothing like hers. His nipples were tiny and almost the same color as the rest of his skin, and nothing stuck out at all, not even a little.

He smiled when he saw her and came towards her for a kiss. She took advantage of the opportunity and ran her hands across his chest. It didn’t feel like hers either; it was smooth except where there were ribs underneath, and nothing anywhere was soft like hers, without the little lumps she had. Stephanie was so happy - it proved that she was becoming more like a girl than a boy!

Meanwhile, Brian had kept kissing her and doing that cool thing where he touched her tongue with his. He was really getting into it, and must have interpreted her examination of his chest as something else. He ran his own hands along her body, going so far as to grab her butt under her skirt. She’d worn one of her new thongs under her leggings, so there was only one layer of fabric between his skin and hers. It felt different.

Brian pulled her with him and backed up into the room until he fell back onto his bed with her on top of him. He held her hips on top of his and bounced her up and down. She finally realized that it was like he was having sex with her, except they were dressed. Stephanie wasn’t sure whether it would be rude to ask him to stop, so she just waited until he finished. At least the kissing was fun.

When he was done he finished getting dressed, throwing on shirt. It was a Giants jersey, so they kind of matched. Stephanie took a moment to fix her lip gloss, and he finally noticed what she was wearing and told her she looked pretty. It sure took him long enough! He sent her along ahead and said he’d be a minute.

On her way to the family room, Stephanie was detoured by Brian’s mother who called her into the kitchen. She wanted a hand getting the refreshments ready. Stephanie was more than happy to pitch in. She got to take a giant bowl of chips downstairs while Mrs. Somers carried a big rectangular pan containing a seven-layer dip. Whatever those layers were made of, they sure were thick!

A few other guests had arrived while Stephanie had been playing with Brian. Her dad was in the family room talking with Mr. Somers and some other man. He introduced himself as Max Schmidt, and she shook his hand. He told her father he had a lovely daughter, and then winked. Maybe he knew her secret? She wasn’t sure. Anyway, she had to go dash upstairs to stir a pot of little weenies in sweet-and-sour sauce so they wouldn’t burn, while Brian’s mom dealt with some snacks in the oven.

In the kitchen she remembered to tell Mrs. Somers that Julia Washington said hello. Stephanie then had to explain how she’d been shopping with Debbie and her mother and had mentioned that she’d be going over to her boyfriend Brian’s for the big game.

Brian’s mother frowned. “I see. So she wanted you to let me know that she knows about you and Brian. You need to be careful who you tell things, Sweetie. Now she’s got leverage to use against me the next time the women’s auxiliary group meets.” Stephanie looked puzzled, so she explained further. “We’re on the same church committee, but now she can force me to vote her way, or she’ll let the right people know that my son has a little gay drag queen boyfriend, and then we’ll be kicked out just like your family was.”

Stephanie didn’t think Julia was as mean as Mrs. Somers was making her sound. She really didn’t want to get stuck in the middle of a fight between her best friend’s and her boyfriend’s mothers, but if she had to choose she’d probably side with the one who called her a girl over the one who kept saying she was a boy.

By the time all the edibles were brought down and Stephanie was finally ready to join the party, the rest of the guests had shown up, and all the seats were taken. Mr. Schmidt and Stephanie’s and Brian’s fathers were on the couch, and Brian’s friends Tim and Josh, who Stephanie had met before, were in the two regular chairs. Brian himself was sitting in a beanbag chair on the far right that hadn’t been in the room the last time Stephanie visited. They must have brought it from another room. She looked around and couldn’t figure out where she’d fit.

Tim got a sly look on his face and said, “This chair’s kind of big. We could share it. Want to sit on my lap?” He opened his arms to make a place for her.

Brian smiled, said that it was a good idea, and then got up and made Tim switch to the beanbag. He sat in the now empty chair and called Stephanie over to sit with him. She felt a little self-conscious sitting on his lap, especially with their dads watching, but neither was shooting dirty looks, so she guessed it was okay.

The downside to sitting on Brian’s lap meant that she’d have to get up when he wanted to go get more snacks or another can of Coke, and since she was up anyway it just seemed easier to go and do it for him. Somehow that evolved into Stephanie working as a waitress for everybody. It was only natural to get stuff for her Dad, and she wanted to stay on her boyfriend’s father’s good side, so fetching an occasional plate of wings for Mr. Somers didn’t seem like asking too much. But she wasn’t exactly sure how she ended up serving Tim and Josh, too. And then of course Brian’s mother would call her upstairs whenever another round of pigs in blankets or whatever was ready in the kitchen. Mrs. Somers may not have believed she was a girl, but she sure treated her like one!

The game itself, what Stephanie saw of it, was about as exciting as a football game can get. Her team was winning at the end of the first quarter, but then the other team got ahead at the end of the second. The dads bet each other some money that their team would win, and kept raising the bet. It started out as a friendly twenty dollars, but it was up to a hundred at half time, when they disappeared to go talk business.

This dumb old musician guy was the half-time act, and the boys wanted to play a quick game of Mario Kart, but Brian’s “Uncle Max” insisted they watch this Tom Petty guy sing his songs. For old people music, it wasn’t horrible, but it still wasn’t Stephanie’s cup of tea. She preferred music by other girls, like they’d had before the game started.

When the second half of the game started, there was a lot happening but nobody scored anything in the third quarter. But then in the fourth, it got crazy. First, her team scored and regained the lead. Then, the other guys did. The dads were getting really excited, and their bet was up to three hundred. Like just as the game was running out of time, her Giants got another touchdown, and they won! Stephanie got so excited she forgot people were watching and gave Brian a deep kiss, the good kind. It earned her a couple wolf whistles from Brian’s friends, and a stern look from her Dad.

After the game, she thought she’d get a little bit of time alone with Brian while their fathers finished their business chat, but she got wrangled into helping clean up. None of the other guests had to. Sometimes being a girl meant being treated unfairly.

Stephanie’s Deal by Jennifer Brock Twelve-year-old Stephanie Brooks used to be an eleven-year-old boy who didn’t mind his parents. When they punished him for peeking at his Christmas presents by making him dress in girls’ clothes, she became more comfortable with herself and turned into a responsible, considerate girl with a much sunnier disposition. In this episode, Stephanie starts attending her new school, a liberal institution with an unorthodox approach that just might be what our girl needs. As we begin, it is Monday, February 4, 2008. (After far too long, the author has found enough free time to release an update, and she promises to try to do better next time.)

Episode 23

Stephanie had spent three hours the night before picking out what she would wear to her first day at Hutchinson. It was tricky finding the right balance. She thought most girls would be in jeans, but she didn’t want to look too much like a boy. But if she went in a really girly dress or skirt, it might look like she was trying too hard and call just as much attention to herself. With Mom’s help, she ultimately settled on wearing her brown corduroy jumper over her white turtleneck and her new white leggings and her brown shoes. She’d have to change for her karate class halfway through the day, so she’d pack a pair of jeans in with her gym stuff and if it looked like not enough girls were in skirts she’d switch when she changed after class.

Having a “Plan B” made her a little less nervous, but when she woke up Monday morning she still waffled a little on what jewelry to wear and how to do her hair and makeup. She ended up going with her silver star stud earrings, a simple chain necklace, and just her watch on her wrist — she’d wanted to wear her charm bracelet for luck, but it just didn’t go with the ensemble. Almost as an afterthought, she clipped her new school ID card to the strap of her jumper. She pulled a white headband on and then brushed out the back of her hair so it flared out with a little more body than usual. After arguing with her mother over what would be appropriate, she went with just some gloss on her lips as her only makeup. She dabbed on a little cologne and checked herself in the mirror. As far as she could tell, she looked like a typical girl ready for her first day in a new school.

Her next crisis was figuring out how to manage all her things. She had a pocketbook, a backpack and a gym bag, (which were all pink, since her mother had picked them out and thought that was what a girl would want) and she needed to carry them all at the same time. It dawned on her that since she didn’t have any books yet, she could stuff her gym bag into her backpack. She wasn’t sure if it would be a good idea to put her purse in there as well. Back when she was a boy, Steven hadn’t paid attention to what the girls at school carried around with them. Stephanie decided that she’d feel more comfortable if she could see her pocketbook, so she kept it outside her backpack.

Elephants were doing cartwheels in her stomach, but Mom made her eat breakfast anyway. Throwing some scrambled eggs down on top of the elephants slowed them down a little, but she still felt awful. And then even when Stephanie was finished eating, she had to wait for her mother to take forever on her own breakfast before they could go. Coffee was supposed to make grownups revved up, but Mom just sipped hers so slowly!

The drive took long enough that by the time they reached the school, Stephanie’s nerves had changed their mind and she now would rather stay in the car than get out and walk into the school. Mom talked her through taking a couple deep breaths to collect herself, and then she was able to go in.

She walked up to the receptionist’s desk and gave her name. The nice lady told her to wait a couple minutes and then the principal Ms. Lancaster came out to greet her. Stephanie had met her the previous week when she’d come for her admission interview. “Good morning, Stephanie!” She smiled broadly, and then leaned down to embrace her in a warm hug. She attached a cute little pin to Stephanie’s top, opposite her ID badge.
It was bright green and looked like an acorn. “This will let everyone know you’re a new student here. Wear it every day until you feel comfortable and confident finding your way around campus. Then it’s yours to keep as a souvenir of your time here. And then if you see anyone else wearing one, you’ll know that they could use a helpful friendly face.”

Stephanie thought that was a cool system. “Thanks! Where do I need to go next?”

“We’ll head on up to your homeroom, get you settled in.” Ms. Lancaster put her hand on Stephanie’s shoulder and started leading her down the hallway. “You’re up on the second floor in room 214. There is an elevator, but we encourage our students who can do so to use the stairs.”

Once past the area with the administrative offices, the hall was bustling with activity. Kids of all sizes and ages were streaming off to wherever they belonged, but it wasn’t like at her old school. No one was pushing or shoving anyone to go faster, and people were generally smiling and friendly to each other. There were dozens of voices talking at once, but nobody was shouting. And like magic they all got out of the way and cleared a path for Ms. Lancaster and her charge.

They went up a wide staircase and around a corner to a nice wide hallway lined in lockers where kids were dropping off their stuff. Ms, Lancaster checked a piece of paper she was carrying, and led Stephanie to Locker number 259G. She showed her there was a little electronic display screen on it that said “Brooks, Stephanie: Grade 6.” Next to it was a slot where she just had to slide her ID card and the locker opened. This school had some pretty awesome technology!

And it didn’t stop there. Inside her locker was a hook where she could hang her coat, and under it was a built-in tray to collect rain and snow and stuff and drain them away. There was a shelf where she could put her gym bag that had extra ventilation, and a space where Ms. Lancaster said they could plug in a chilled compartment if Stephanie was planning on regularly carrying her lunch to school. But the coolest part was that her locker had a built-in charging station for Stephanie’s brand new computer — it was a fancy tablet like she’d used to take her placement tests, and it came with a keyboard, a pen, and a mouse that all had their own special slots in the charger. There was a box in her locker for her to take home at the end of the day with another charger to use at home. All this was included in her tuition fee. Stephanie stowed her backpack, and took only her pocketbook and computer (in its carrying bag with the school logo on it) with her.

Ms. Lancaster then took her to Room 214, and introduced her to her new homeroom teacher, Ms. Dominguez. She was a tall, pretty lady with long wavy black hair and big brown eyes, dressed in a red and white striped sweater and a black skirt. Ms. Dominguez made Stephanie stand and wait in the front of the class until after the bell rang (It was more of a chime noise coming over the loudspeaker) and the rest of the kids took their seats.

The classroom was a little smaller than the ones at Stephanie’s old school, and there were way fewer students in it. There were just twelve desks, and only nine of them had kids in them. Ms. Dominguez told the class, “As you can see, a new acorn has joined us today. I hope you all will make her feel welcome.” She gestured toward Stephanie. “What name do you like to be called?”

That was a scary question. Was Ms. Dominguez in on her secret, and about to reveal it in front of everyone? “Um, Stephanie.” She swallowed hard.

Ms. Dominguez smiled. “Okay. I wasn’t sure if maybe you preferred Stef or Steffi, but it’s nice to see someone who uses her whole name.” She leaned in and whispered. “My first name is Cassandra, and I have some friends who call me Cassie even though I tell them not to.” She straightened up and returned to her regular tone of voice. “Tell us a little about yourself, Stephanie.”

The nickname thing was a big relief, and it took Stephanie a couple minutes to reply. “Oh, Hi. I’m Stephanie Brooks. Hi, everyone.” She gave her new classmates a little wave. “I used to go to Roosevelt, before it burned down, and ended up here because I like to draw and stuff, and they said the art program is good here.” She shrugged, unsure what else to tell them.

The teacher nodded. “Oooh, an artist! It will be nice having you around when the time comes to decorate our room for holidays. You can take a seat. We don’t have assigned seating here at Hutchinson, so just pick any empty desk.”

A blonde girl with pigtails, glasses, and a pink shirt on that Stephanie’s mother would adore, raised her hand and pointed at the desk next to hers. “Sit here!”

Stephanie went over and claimed the indicated seat. The girl’s name was Peace Hayes, and she started showing her how to turn on her computer tablet, but then Ms. Dominguez turned on her own computer and the big screen where the blackboard would be lit up.

Ms. Lancaster came on the screen and gave the morning announcements. It was like she was a TV news lady. She even gave a weather report, and then wished a bunch of kids each a happy birthday. The cafeteria would be featuring Moroccan stew for lunch. Finally, the principal gave shout outs to a couple students who’d just gotten back from being sick, and she ended by welcoming the newest student, Stephanie Brooks, to the Hutchinson family. It was kind of cool, but also kind of embarrassing.

Peace finished showing Stephanie how to get into her computer, (She just had to sign her name in a box with the computer pen thingy.) and even sent her an email. This school was definitely more high-tech than her old one. It was like she was finally living in the twenty-first century. Peace showed her how to check her schedule, and laughed when she noticed out that they had a couple classes together. They could also have lunch together on Tuesday, Thursday and Friday, but Stephanie was on her own for her first time.

It was nice meeting a new friend like that. It came much more easily for her than when she’d been a boy. Steven had had like no real friends, just classmates. But Stephanie was exchanging phone numbers with a girl she’d known for fifteen minutes. She liked the new her a lot better.

When the signal rang to change classes, she checked her schedule and campus map and saw that it was pretty easy to get to Room 261. Mr. Reilly, her Creative Writing teacher, was shorter than most grownup men. He had curly black hair and a lot of forehead, and his voice had a funny accent like he was from England or something. She introduced herself, and he told her to take a seat in the front. When the rest of the kids had all arrived he said, “We’ve got a new addition to our class today. Let’s show her how things work around here. Stephanie, stand up here where the others can see you.”

Putting the New Kid on display seemed to be the way things worked at Hutchinson. She sighed and left her desk to go stand next to the teacher. She tried to smile. “Hi, I’m Stephanie Brooks, and…”

Mr. Reilly cut her off. “No, don’t tell them any more. We are about imagination here, so we’ll have your classmates tell your story for you.” He looked at the other students. “As I point to you, I want you each to stand and tell me something about your new colleague.”

Stephanie was confused. “Am I in the right classroom? I’m supposed to be learning writing now.”

The teacher straightened his posture. “My dear girl, you are indeed in the correct place. Here you will learn how to master the written word and make it serve you. But the written word is but an approximation of the spoken word. We invented writing as a way to capture the ephemeral sounds of language in a form that could be more permanent. If you can write creatively, you can speak creatively.”

One of the other kids groaned. “There he goes again.”

Mr. Reilly continued, “I heard that, Tiberius Spencer. Perhaps I have given this speech before, but at least one member of my audience hasn’t heard it, and I believe at least one other member hasn’t listened to it. As a student of creative writing, I will endeavor to help all of you improve your skills as literal storytellers as well as literary ones. Some of the most significant writing in literature was intended to be received aurally and presented orally. Shakespeare is considered one of the greatest writers in the English language, and most of what he wrote were plays, meant to be performed, not just read. And for my money most poetry (with a few exceptions like cummings’ typographical gymnastics) can only really be appreciated when recited. The eye cannot guide the brain to understanding the tintinnabulation of Poe’s bells anywhere near as well as the ear can, as an example. So, in short, you will be expected to present your work in class through spoken presentation nearly as often as through written text. But don’t misunderstand; while I do aim to guide you toward being better able to articulate your thoughts into words, if you need assistance with the actual physical act of articulation that is handled in a different department than mine. Does that make sense?”

Stephanie wasn’t exactly sure what he’d just said, but somewhere in there he’d said she was in the right class, so she just nodded.

“Very well, then. Now, where was I? Oh, yes. Students, let’s come up with the story for how Stephanie here ended up in our class. Tiberius, since you were so eager to start, you can go first.” He indicated a skinny boy with shiny black hair sitting in the back row.

His story was that Stephanie had witnessed a mob hit, and the FBI relocated her to Hutchinson. It was scary when he mentioned that her name wasn’t really Stephanie, but he didn’t guess that she hadn’t been a girl before, so she could breathe again. The other eleven kids then gave their explanations for how Stephanie arrived at their class, which ranged from her being a refugee from the war in Iraq to the daughter of a European prince forced to live in exile. It was fun hearing everyone allowed to just let their imagination run wild.

After everyone had gone, Mr. Reilly asked Stephanie to tell the others “her real story.” She didn’t want to miss out on the chance to play around like the rest, so she took a gamble that he didn’t really want the true story. So she explained about how she was a space alien sent as an observer, but had grown fond of Earth and its people and had been sending false reports back home for a while; she didn’t want the place overrun with tourists. It seemed like she’d guessed correctly, since she earned a smile from the teacher.

Stephanie realized that she hadn’t paid much attention to her schedule when she had to go back to room 214 for her second class. It turned out that her homeroom teacher Ms. Dominguez was also her math teacher. She also recognized Peace, who wanted her to sit next to her again, and a couple of kids from her Creative Writing class. Math was still math, so it wasn’t that different from at her old school. But instead of a textbook and a workbook, it was all combined on her tablet, and instead of making the kids get up to write out a problem on the board, Ms. Dominguez could make it so the big screen in the front of the class showed what was on someone’s tablet. She’d walk through a couple examples, and then let one of the students do the next one, and let others join in if they got stuck. They were studying fractions, and Stephanie was a little lost, but she did her best to follow along.

Ms. Dominguez showed Stephanie where there was a folder on her computer for her math homework, and that a new assignment would be appearing in there every day, and she could turn it in just by pressing a button, and she could email her if she had any questions. It was like she was going to school in the future or something; there was no paper anywhere.

Peace walked with her to her next class, Social Studies with Mr. Myers in Room 254. He explained that usually the class was divided out for the week with a discussion of current events on Monday, history on Tuesday and Wednesday, and a civics lesson (whatever that was) on Thursday, with Fridays calling back to any topic the students were interested in. However, this week would be an exception. Since the next day would be Super Duper Tuesday, they’d be focusing on the presidential primary elections all week. It was current events and civics rolled into one, plus there was a good chance history would be made, as the country chose its first female or African-American presidential candidate from a major party.

Stephanie had never paid any attention to political stuff, so she felt very stupid as all the other kids talked about which candidates they were rooting for and she had nothing to say. Mr. Myers was very patient with her though, and didn’t mind explaining all the terms he used even when she was the only one confused. He put up some maps and graphs on the big screen and talked about all kinds of “magic” numbers that the candidates would need to get to secure nomination. She wondered why they didn’t just pick the person with the most votes, and that snotty boy from her Creative Writing class laughed at her. But Mr. Myers said that was actually a good question, and explained that various groups had tried to revise the voting system to something less complicated, but the people who could change it were the ones who benefit from the way it was currently set up, so it was unlikely. She felt better about asking, and he gave her some extra reading assignments that would help explain things. The general homework he assigned everyone was to watch the national news every night, and read a newspaper.

Her next class was one of the ones she’d been looking forward to the most, as well as the one she was the most nervous about, her Tai Chi class. It was supposed to be some kind of cool martial arts thing, but she’d have to change her clothes and she didn’t want to get discovered. She put her computer back in her locker and got her gym bag, and then followed her campus map to get to “Gymnasium C.”

The gym area was complicated. You went through a set of double doors and then you had your choice of going in one direction for locker rooms, another for Gymnasiums A through D, or a third for Gymnasiums E and F and the Pool, or through other doors outside to athletic fields, tennis courts, and the playground. Stephanie wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do, so she went straight to Gymnasium C. It was a squarish room with a mirror all along one wall and a thick mat on the floor.

The teacher there was an older guy with a gray beard and a long ponytail. He was barefoot and wearing a tight leotard-like thing that covered him to his ankles. He guessed who Stephanie was, and introduced himself as Elliot Mullins. He saw her bag and told her to go change into something she could move in, with either thin-soled shoes or barefoot like him. He recommended sandals for walking to and from the changing room in case she was afraid of athlete’s foot.

She went to the locker room and was pleased to see that they were separated between boys and girls. The bathrooms at Hutchinson weren’t, so she’d been worried about having to change in front of a bunch of boys. She went into the room and couldn’t figure out what to do; it was just a bunch of doors. She just stood there for a little while being confused, but then this girl came out of one of the doors. She was older, like a teenager, with boobs and stuff. She was dressed in a tight pair of blue shorts, a tiny little pale pink top with thin straps, and purple slippers. Stephanie was reminded that her new school went all the way through Grade Twelve.

Anyway, this teen girl saw Stephanie’s badge and said, “Oh hello there, Little Acorn. Do you need some help?” She nodded, so the older girl showed her how she just needed to run her ID card through a slot next to one of the doors, and it would unlock and let her into a little cubicle where she could change her clothes. Each changing booth also had an attached shower stall, so when she was changing back into her regular clothes she could wash off the sweat if she choose. She also showed Stephanie where there was a row of lockers that she could stow her gym bag in while she was in class. She demonstrated how, using her own bag. She picked a locker that said “vacant” on its little screen, ran her card down it so it would unlock, and stuck her bag in it. When she closed it, the little display now showed “Sparks, Artemis: Grade 11.”

Stephanie wondered out loud why so many students had such weird names, and realized too late that it was kind of a rude thing to ask. Artemis just smiled at her. “You can call me Missy; that’s not so weird, is it? But you’re right. A lot of the rich hippies who send their kids to Hutch do seem to go for unique names. As for me, I was named for a Greek goddess, but ever since Wild Wild West came out, everyone thinks my parents gave me a boy’s name. Sometimes I wish they’d just gone with the Roman version and called me Diana.”

Stephanie thanked Missy for her help and hurried to change for class. She put on the outfit her friend Debbie’s mother had assembled for her when she’d taken her to the mall the Saturday before. She stripped down and then started with her padded sports bra and thong panty (so there’d be no lines, which was supposed to be important) and then put on her light orange yoga pants and pale green tank top, and then layered a yellow spaghetti strap top over that. It was a very similar style to the top Missy had on, except she had no other layers under hers. She didn’t have any sandals like the teacher had said to wear, so she just went barefoot.

She was the last one to show up for class, but it didn’t seem like she was in trouble. Mr. Mullins had Missy lead the others in some exercises, while he gave Stephanie some one-on-one instruction, teaching her the fundamentals of Tai Chi, which was about focus and harmony and meditation. She’d been tricked. This wasn’t an exciting martial art like karate; it was like king fu being done in slow motion, and you never got to touch anyone or anything else. No wonder she hadn’t had to work very hard to get her Mom to let her take the class. But in the end it was kind of fun; she just had to imagine that she was fighting ninjas underwater. After class she changed back into her previous outfit. She didn’t think she was sweaty enough to need a shower, and she hadn’t brought soap or a towel or anything.

The next thing on her schedule was lunch. She knew where the cafeteria was, and had been shown how it worked when she’d come to take her placement tests. So for the first time that day, she didn’t feel lost or confused. But then when she left the line with her tray full of strange-looking but delicious-smelling food, she realized that she didn’t know where to sit. Steven would have taken his lunch to go sit at the empty table in the corner, and try to be left alone, but Stephanie wasn’t that sad, lonely boy any more. She was a friendly, outgoing girl. She took her tray over to a table where some girls that looked to be around her age were sitting, introduced herself, and asked if she could join them. It turned out she’d misjudged their ages and they were all a grade above her, but she was able to pump them for information about how her classes had been for them.

Her first class after lunch was “Health & Nature” which was the Hutchinson name for what her old school called Life Science. The teacher was a nice black (or was she supposed to call her African-American?) lady named Ms. Grimes. The students were in the middle of a unit where they were studying the diseases that kids their age usually catch in the winter, including how to treat them and how to avoid catching them. It was much more interesting learning something that could immediately affect her life, rather than just some general science stuff that wasn’t connected to anything. And the way it was taught with videos of actual viruses and stuff shown on the big screen, it was just better at keeping her attention.

To end her day, Stephanie had a double-length session, an art class in drawing and painting taught by Ms. Lucas, the teacher who’d recommended her to the school, back when her psychiatrist had shared some of Stephanie’s artwork with her. She gave her a welcoming hug, and set her right to work at a slanted desk with a pad of paper and a pencil on it. Stephanie had gotten so used to all her classes being on the computer tablet that it seemed weird to go back to paper, but Ms. Lucas insisted that she needed to be able to feel how the paper and the pencil were interacting, and the computer couldn’t do that.

She had a bunch of objects arranged on a table in the middle of the room, ranging from simple geometric shapes to a bowl of plastic fruit, to the top half of a mannequin draped in fabric. There were little spotlights from the ceiling pointed at some of them. Ms. Lucas told Stephanie to focus on part of the display, and to try to draw it. She’d always drawn from her imagination before, so trying to duplicate something exactly was a new challenge for her. Ms. Lucas roamed the room, giving the kids hints and pointers, and when she got to Stephanie, she showed her how she needed to be working from the general shape first, and then refining the details, instead of trying to get all the details right from the beginning. It was tough work, but it was definitely something she wanted to get good at.

She was so engrossed in her drawing that it came as a shock when the bell chimed to say that school was over for the day. There were more of those personalized lockers in the art studio, so Stephanie could save the drawing she’d been working on, and she could get back to it in the next class session. But Ms. Lucas did warn her that she rearranged the objects every week, so she shouldn’t spend too much time on any one drawing. She’d be getting plenty of practice.

Stephanie was so excited about her first day at Hutchinson that she spent the entire drive home telling her Mom everything that had happened, and then repeated it all for her Dad when he got home. He seemed more interested in her new computer, but he listened to her anyway. When she finally wore herself out and headed up to bed, her parents shared a knowing smile, glad that their child was finally thriving in an academic environment.

Stephanie’s Deal by Jennifer Brock Twelve-year-old Stephanie Brooks has just started at her new school, a high-tech liberal environment that her dad calls a "crunchy granola" kind of place. Their policy of acceptance is important to her, since up until six and a half weeks ago, Steven Brooks had been living as a boy, since he had a boy's body. But since then, she has been living as a girl, and believes that she might just have a girl's mind. It started out as a punishment, but it hasn't felt like that for a while. Stephanie has started making new friends at the Hutchinson School, but she still doesn't quite fit in yet. As we begin this chapter, it is Tuesday, February 5, 2008.

Episode 24
For her second day of school, Stephanie wore her low-rise hipster jeans (which meant she had to also wear her low-rise hipster panties) and layered a light blue cardigan sweater over her girlish pink t-shirt that had lace trim around the collar. She thought that it made sure people looking at her didn't see a boy, even though she was in pants. To coordinate with her pink shirt and pink sneakers, she put in the pink beaded earrings that her Aunt Jeannie had made for her for Christmas. Stephanie didn't want to go overboard on the pink, so she didn't wear the matching necklace or bracelet. However, when it came time to do her hair, nothing else seemed to work as well with her outfit as her pink headband. So she just accepted that it would be a pink day. She went light on the makeup so Mom wouldn’t complain; just shiny lip gloss and one stroke of brown mascara on each upper set of lashes. She was almost ready to head out when she remembered to attach the green acorn pin that marked her as a new student to her sweater, and clipped her school ID card on the other side.

She had a quick breakfast with her mother and then they got in the car and drove to Hutchinson. Stephanie felt like a spy or something using her fancy ID card to open the door. She took a moment to get her bearings, and then figured she knew her way around somewhat and in fact her first three classes were identical to the day before, so that made things easier. She found the locker with her name on it, hung up her coat, and went to homeroom. Peace, the blonde girl with pigtails and glasses she'd met the day before, greeted Stephanie and reminded her that she'd have the same lunch period and was welcome to sit with Peace and her friends.

In Creative Writing class, Mr. Reilly had each of the students get up and tell about his or her favorite color. When it was Stephanie's turn, she felt very self-conscious about her outfit. "From looking at me today, you'd probably guess that my favorite color is pink, but really that's my mother's favorite color for me to wear, so pink clothes take up a lot of space in my closet. It kind of looks like Barbie's. My favorite color is actually red, so I just tell myself that I'm wearing light red." The teacher then prodded Stephanie to elaborate on why she preferred red to pink, and she said that red was more glamorous and romantic than pink. It was strange; she'd always liked red even back when she thought she was a boy, but the only reasons she could come up with for why she liked red were feminine ideas about lipstick and roses.

Her math class felt easier, now that she was more familiar with how to use her computer tablet. But the weird part was that the class she had after it, her civics lesson from Mr. Myers, had just as much math in it, going over some more election stuff. He said it was "Superduper Tuesday," a rare event when a lot of states were having primary elections on the same day. He was really excited about it, but Stephanie still couldn't get her head around it all. This stuff with parties and primaries seemed more complicated than it needed to be. Why couldn’t everybody just vote on the same day and whoever wins gets to be President? She thought about asking Mr. Myers but didn’t want to feel stupid.

At last the bell rang and it was time for lunch. Peace grabbed Stephanie at the end of class and led her to their lockers to ditch their bags before heading to the cafeteria. The burritos they served at Hutchinson were even better than Taco Day back at Roosevelt. Peace's friends were nice, if a little weird. They all gave their full names so Stephanie could email them through the school computer. Stephanie recognized a girl with curly red hair and a faceful of freckles from her Creative Writing class. She introduced herself as Lu "short for Lucretia with a T like Mott not a Z like Borgia" Chambers.

Nadia Randolph was a pretty girl with a soft brown complexion and a hint of Asia in her eyelids. She was wearing a long patchwork skirt that Stephanie thought looked fun. Nadia thanked her and said that her mother had made it for her and she'd owned it ever since she was three, with material being added at the hem and removed at the waist as she'd grown, and new patches sewn on where it had been torn or stained. She pointed out one little blue triangle that was all that was left of the original. Nadia said she liked the idea that something could be the same and completely different at the same time. Stephanie smiled at that but couldn’t explain the real reason, so she mumbled something about how being in a new school was like that. The subjects were the same but the way they were presented was totally different.

The only boy in the bunch had platinum hair (that was probably bleached based on his dark eyebrows) arranged in a wild, shaggy style. He wore a button-down shirt tucked into black jeans that were almost tight enough to be leggings. He stood up and bowed his head toward Stephanie and made this spirally gesture with his hand as though he were winding a string attached to his forehead, and Stephanie noticed that he had twinkly diamond studs in his ears. "Delighted to meet you, Milady. Bierce McAllister, at your service." Stephanie blushed a little when he kissed her hand.

Peace leaned over and nudged Stephanie. "He's gay," she loudly whispered.

Stephanie tried to put a shocked expression on her face, but she couldn't hold it for long without giggling.

Bierce just rolled his eyes at Peace. She stuck her tongue out at him. He turned back to Stephanie. "What she's trying to do in her clever way is make sure you're okay with me. You are, right?"

Stephanie wanted to say, "Well duh," but she preferred to keep her own status in the closet. Instead she laughed and said, "Of course I'm okay. You're a person. Why did you ask? I didn't think there were any of those uptight fuddy-duddy types here."

Lu joined in the conversation. "No fuddies that I'm aware of, but there are a few duddies, like that jerkface Ty Spencer." To clue in her friends she added, "He's got Reilly's writing class with Steph and me." They acknowledged knowing who Ty Spencer was with a chorus of sympathetic groans.

Peace spoke up again. "So if you're cool with Bierce, you're gonna love Breezy! When's she going to get a chance to meet her?"

Bierce answered her. "I don't know; she doesn't like winter much. She's more into sundresses and miniskirts these days." He turned to Stephanie. "A couple years ago, I spent all school year dressed as a girl. It was a fun persona, but too limiting. Now Breezy only comes out every once in a while, for special occasions, or if I'm just really bored."

Stephanie had a mixed reaction to that. On the one hand, it was nice to know that her new friends didn't have anything against boys who liked to dress as girls. But on the other hand, her new friends had seen a boy who dressed up as a girl, so they might catch things that other people miss. She was especially worried that Bierce would be able to guess her secret. Stephanie just smiled and tried not to let any of that show on her face.

Bierce winked at her. "My shrink says I shouldn't play for attention so much, so I try not to go overboard all the time. But Hutch encourages artistic expression, so it's hard not to. I love it here!" Stephanie thought about mentioning that she’d only found Hutchinson through her own psychotherapist, but didn’t want to have to explain what was wrong with her.

The last member of their clique was Denali Gibbs, a girl who spent most of lunch busily working on her computer tablet. She was dressed in jeans and a striped sweater, and had her long brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. She stayed out of the dramatics, but did look up and shake her head every so often, when her friends were being ridiculous. It was a bit of a relief to see that everyone here wasn't so outgoing.

Stephanie seemed to fit in okay with this group. It was a strange experience, since Steven had been so shy and withdrawn and never made any real friendships. But Stephanie was talking and laughing with a bunch of kids she'd just met as if they were old chums. She wasn't sure if it was because she was a girl now and girls were just naturally friendlier, or if it was because she was happier now as a girl than she'd been before and people were friendlier to happy people. Whatever the reason, she liked it.

After lunch, she had her first flute lesson. The music room was interesting. The kids who knew what they were doing could go to little soundproof booths and play their instruments into microphones, and a computer would tell them if they hit the right notes. But beginning students like Stephanie got to sit on stools arranged in a circle in the middle of the room and receive one-on-one instructions from the teacher, Mr. Kaufman. He was pretty cool, tall and skinny with long spidery fingers, but a really friendly smile. He started by having her spread her hands on a table so he could measure her fingers, to pick the right size flute for her. He went into a closet and handed her a fancy-looking black case, something like a little suitcase. Inside the case was a brand new shiny silver flute broken apart in three pieces. To keep track of where things were, he scanned the bar code on Stephanie's ID and she signed an electronic form to show that she'd accepted the flute.

Mr. Kaufman showed her how to put her flute together and take it apart, and had her practice it a few times before he moved on to showing her how to clean her flute inside and out every time she'd be putting it away. And at last he actually got around to teaching her how to play it. Maybe it was from having lunch with Bierce, but Stephanie got the impression that her teacher might be gay. There was just something in the way he dressed, and the tone of voice he used, that seemed kind of "dainty," if that's the right word.

Her suspicions seemed to be confirmed when he pulled out a tube of lipstick to show her how to shape her mouth to play. He showed her the print his lip made on his own flute, and then gave Stephanie her own fresh tube of lipstick and had her try to make the same shape lip print. She had to clean off her flute several times before she got the right shape, but then when she blew across the hole, it made a musical sound! Mr. Kaufman gave her some breathing exercises to practice with for homework. Stephanie considered keeping the lipstick on for the rest of the day, but ended up switching back to her original gloss.

The next new class Stephanie had was called "Digital Media Lab," and she was curious to find out what that meant. It turned out to be about making art with computers. It made her a little uncomfortable that she seemed to be one of the oldest students in the class except for these three boys in the back who looked like they belonged in high school, and of the eleven other kids there were only four girls and she guessed that they all were fourth-graders. But the teacher Mr. Sanchez was like some kind of awesome punk biker dude, with pierced eyebrows and circles stretching out his earlobes, and tattoos on his arms. He seemed to tell what she was thinking and told her not to worry about being a little behind the other kids; the class was an introduction to the technology and all that would be expected of her was that she'd know more about the tools at the end of the semester than she did at the beginning.

He showed her how she could plug her computer in at a workstation with a bigger screen and a special pen-thing for drawing. Then he actually asked her how she wanted to learn to use the software. He said that she could just dive into the program and poke around to find out what it could do, or run a tutorial program that would guide her through the system one step at a time at her own pace, or she could follow along while he gave seminars at the front of the classroom. If she wanted to pop in a pair of earbuds and tune him out, she was welcome. It was weird to think that she'd be the one in control, not the teacher. This school was strange, but it seemed like the right place for Stephanie. She picked the tutorial option, but she though she might do some exploring along the way.

She zipped through the tutorial pretty easily, until she hit this one point where the program wouldn’t do what it was supposed to. She tried over and over again, getting more and more frustrated. The teacher was in the middle of giving a lesson, so she didn’t want to interrupt him to ask for help. She was surprised by a voice behind her. "Hi, I’m Jerry. You look lost. Want help?" It was one of the older boys who’d been sitting in the back of the room. He’d gotten up and come over to her desk.

Stephanie wished herself invisible. She just wanted to disappear so this boy wouldn’t see how stupid she was at this computer program, but it didn’t work. He just stood there, smiling at her. He was taller, probably like fifteen or sixteen, with dark curly hair and little round glasses. He looked like Harry Potter from the latest movie, but a little chubbier. He might even have been kind of cute, if she’d been the kind of girl to notice cute boys, but she totally wasn’t. She took a breath and tried to calm down before speaking. "Um, hi. I’m Stephanie. This computer’s just being stupid! It said I could draw a circle and then click on it to change stuff, but it doesn’t work." She demonstrated what she had tried for him.

Jerry laughed, and she felt humiliated to her very core. But then he looked at her with his eyes wide and said it was cool that she could draw a circle freehand like that, and made a joke she didn’t quite get about it getting her a job with the pope. Then he showed her that it wanted her to use the special circle making tool, not the pen. That did feel like a total rookie move on her part, so she relaxed. Stephanie laughed with him and thanked him for his help. He went back to his desk and she read the rest of the tutorial more closely.

Just before the end of class, her computer chirped that she had a new email. She clicked on the thingy and saw that she’d gotten a message from "Jerry Garcia Schneider" with the subject "Hang in there." It had a thing attached and when she opened it, it was a cute little cartoon. It showed a girl sitting at a computer and it was a pretty good likeness of Stephanie, with the same hairdo and the same outfit and a decent cartoon version of her nose. The only thing that seemed off was that Stephanie didn’t think her boobs were as noticeable as the cartoon girl’s. She got a frowny face and a bubble appeared over her head that said "Stupid computer" and then she pulled out a giant mallet and smashed it up. Then a bunch of calendar pages flew by and Cartoon Stephanie was sitting at a new computer happily typing away. The scene faded to a big sign that said "Don’t worry – it gets easier." It was pretty nice of Jerry to do that for her. She turned around to thank him, but the class had ended and he’d left to go to his next class.

Stephanie’s own next class was Folk Dancing. It was held in Gym B, so she wasn’t sure if it was like her Tai Chi class and she needed to change her clothes first or whether she could just dance in her regular clothes. She went back to her locker to get her gym bag just in case, but that made her like the last one to show up for class. There was a clump of girls in the room all casually chatting and Stephanie wasn’t sure how to interrupt and ask about the class, but then one of the girls noticed her and broke out from the bunch. A closer look revealed her to actually be older than the students, around twenty or something. She also looked familiar – it was the receptionist from the dance studio where Stephanie had been taking ballroom lessons to get ready for her cousin’s wedding.

"Oh hey, it’s the Maestro’s favorite student! He’s gonna be so jealous when I tell him his little princess is in my class." Stephanie blushed and gave a confused smile.

It turned out that Cheri (none of the other students called her "Ms. Middleton") was actually more than just a receptionist at the dance studio. She was a trained instructor, and taught several classes at Hutchinson. She explained to the other students how she knew Stephanie, and had them introduce themselves to her.

There were seven other girls, who ranged in age from nine to seventeen, and two boys. The younger of the two, a thirteen-year-old Latino-looking boy named Ferris, made it clear that he was only taking the class to be with his girlfriend Seattle. The older boy, sixteen-year-old Cerulean, was just really into dancing. He was giddy and wanted to know everything Stephanie knew about the Maestro. Stephanie wondered if there were that many openly gay people at Hutchinson, or if she’d just coincidentally run across three of them in one day.

The way the class worked, they’d learn a new dance every month, and since Stephanie was joining them on the first session in February, they were all on the same page, so she didn’t feel as lost as in some of her other classes. Cheri said that since they now had an even number of students she was able to change her old plan and switch to a dance that needed pairs. She started by showing them a video of authentic Ukrainian folk dancers performing the dance they’d be learning, and then went into a brief presentation about the geography of Ukraine and its culture. She said that traditional dances were a great way to gain insight into how other peoples felt about things. Stephanie wasn’t sure she understood or agreed, but nodded as though the idea made sense.

Cheri had the students line up by height and then split them into pairs, and for the three pairs that had two girls she told the taller one she’d be learning the boy’s part. Stephanie held her breath and only let it out when she got paired with a taller girl. It would have been too weird if she’d have to pretend to be a boy. But the partner picked for her was Seattle, and Ferris was a little upset at that. He complained to Cheri, who told him that he needed to have a more open mind about things but then she asked Stephanie and Mariposa, the girl he’d been paired with, if they were okay with switching partners. The girls nodded, so she switched their partners. Stephanie was now paired with a grouchy Ferris. Cheri said she’d seen Stephanie do amazing work with an uncooperative dance partner before, so she expected good things. Stephanie hoped she wouldn’t let her down.

They ran through the video again, and then Cheri started teaching them the movements. It looked like the finished dance would be kind of fun, but there were a lot of pieces to learn. By the end of class Stephanie understood why folk dancing counted as Phys. Ed. in this school. Cheri said that the girls who were dancing as boys needed to make sure to come to the next session in pants, but the girls who were dancing as girls could wear skirts if they wanted to. She told Stephanie that she didn’t need to be as fancy as for ballroom; this was a more casual dance lesson.

When her Mom came to collect her, Stephanie wanted to tell her everything about how her day went, but she couldn’t decide what to start with and it all came out sort of jumbled together. Her mother just chuckled and smiled, pleased to see that her child was excited about school, in sharp contrast with Steven’s old attitude.

They didn't have time to drive home first and instead went straight to Stephanie's appointment with her therapist. Dr. Howard asked for a few details on how Stephanie was settling into her new school, and Stephanie's response was to give her an unsolicited hug and thank her profusely for helping to get her into Hutchinson. She talked about starting to make new friends and meeting more gays than she ever had before in her life, and Dr. Howard tried to steer her away from labelling people. She asked if she was feeling as bored and disconnected as Steven had at Roosevelt, and Stephanie said that even the classes that were about stuff she didn't care for were still kind of interesting, and everyone made her feel included.

At home, Stephanie plugged her tablet into the workstation at her desk and dove into her homework without needing to be prodded. She noticed that she’d received some emails. One was from a teacher she hadn’t met, a Ms. Benton, who said that since Stephanie was scheduled for an hour of playground time on Wednesday, she might want to bring along a change of clothes in case of bad weather.

She also got an email from Denali, the quiet girl from lunch. She said that Stephanie seemed nice and told her that she shouldn’t feel intimidated by the more outgoing members of the clique, and she was welcome to sit with them even when Peace wasn’t making her. She thanked Stephanie for helping Denali and Nadia to feel less outnumbered by Peace, Lu, and Bierce, who didn’t seem to get that some people prefer to be low-key. Stephanie thought that was a sweet note and sent a quick thank you response. Making new friends was a weird but cool feeling, and wasn’t as hard as she’d expected.

The other email she got ruined Stephanie’s good mood and sent her into a panic attack. It was from Kimberly Stevens, a girl from her old church, a girl who’d been to Stephanie’s birthday party, a girl who’d been in that Christmas pageant that started this whole thing, a girl who knew Stephanie’s secret and could expose her. When she got up enough nerve to open it, it wasn’t quite as scary. The message just said, "Hi! I saw your new student announcement. Welcome to Hutch! So you’re going by Stephanie all the time now? That’s so cool! I checked, but we’re not in any of the same classes, so frowny face. I guess I’ll see you around the halls and stuff. Let me know if you need help getting around campus." Stephanie couldn’t help herself and sent a reply, "Hi Kim! Thanks. Hutchinson does seem like a cool place. I’ll keep an eye out for you. Um, I probably don’t need to ask, but just in case. Please don’t tell anyone about my whole name thing and stuff, you know. To be honest, this me feels more real than that old one. Thanks again."

Stephanie had to take a few minutes to settle herself before joining her parents for dinner, so they wouldn’t think something was wrong and pull her out of her new school already. She held onto the positives and tried to shake off her doubts. Things were going great, and so far she had no reason to think they couldn't continue to be.