THE PROM STATEMENT: Chapter 1
By
Nina Adams

In the heat of debate, Clarence makes a Prom
Statement that would change his life forever.

----------------Standing Up For Some Ideals---------------------------

Springtime is when the powers of nature are in their greatest glory. The frozen landscape slowly shifts to the vivid greens and majestic colors. Amazing changes materialize from the nearly dormant parts of nature. The days grow longer and the ultraviolet lights emanating from the warming skies rejuvenate our souls.

This past spring I experienced the changing seasons in more ways than I could ever have imagined. My life bloomed in ways that nearly defy explanation. I barely resemble the young man that began this metamorphosis on a cold New Year’s Eve in Evanston Illinois. Nature or as some would contend the twists of fate, have unusual ways of taking shape.

My plan was to spend New Year’s Eve at a party being thrown by one of my school friends in chorus. I was never the most outgoing person, but enjoyed singing and was a senior member of the high school chorus club. My silky smooth voice was one of the few distinguishing things about me. I was one of those kids that floated in the background that the majority of my classmates did not know existed. I was not exactly an oddball, but other than singing, I rarely stood out. My grades were very good and I was one of the youngest senior students, due to the fact that I had skipped first grade. I think being young and small in physical stature, probably contributed to my socialization issues.

I had grown probably as tall as I was going to get and was still just shy of 5’7”. With my slight build I just blended into the student body without much notice. I was already planning to attend the University of Illinois in the fall and had already received an early admission to their liberal arts school. I figured a big school like the U of I would allow me to find a true calling and besides, my deceased father had gone there during his college days.

My father had died when I was only three and left my mother a pretty sizable insurance policy. He was a doctor at Evanston Hospital and my mother was a nurse there. That is how they met and he died tragically in a car accident after a long shift at the hospital. Even fifteen years later, my mother has not completely gotten over his death.

I did not have any siblings, as a result of my dad’s accident. I’ve been told they wanted to have one or two more children, but it wasn’t to be. I was named after my great grandfather Clarence. I never really liked that name and my few close friends sometimes called me Clay. My mom still called me Clarence or sometimes Clary. It was an old-fashioned name and I always wished it had been something different. I would rather it had been a name more like my best friend Max.

As I mentioned earlier my story began on a very stormy New Year’s Eve in Chicago. My friend Max and I were planning to go to the New Year’s Eve bash at one of our mutual chorus club friend’s house on the lakefront. There were going to be at least 30 people there and they had an indoor pool, which was going to be the setting for the party. It was going to be a fun change of pace for the cold winter that had set in. Unfortunately, the brutal North wind unleashed a nasty snow and Arctic chill. Over the 24 hours leading up to the party we had over 12 inches of snow, followed by plunging temperatures. The party was canceled.

My mom invited Max to join us at our house for a nice dinner and maybe a movie or two. My mother always liked Max and he only lived a couple of blocks away. Max was my friend all the way back to elementary school and like me was a pretty good student. We were also both lacking a few social skills. We were also an odd looking set of friends, since he was just under 6 feet tall and outweighed me by a truckload. He had really sprouted in high school, while I barely grew.

Spending the evening at my house with my mother was not my dream evening, but it was better than staying home alone. Mom made a festive dinner with crab legs, baby potatoes, and garlic bread. The dinner was more fun than I expected and the three of us exchange some lively conversation. We debated the sorry state of politics, many different social issues, and best and worst parts of high school. I usually took the idealist or liberal view, and my mom usually took a more conservative or traditional view on the issues. Max generally agreed with me, but was careful not to step on my mother’s toes.

I probably should’ve kept my mouth shut, but I chose to mention the prom as one of my least favorite things about high school. I had not gone as a junior and did not anticipate finding a date for the senior prom. It was not that there weren’t any girls that I could take, but I didn’t currently have a girlfriend and the girls that I had a crush on most certainly would not have had an interest in going with me to the dance.

My mother was not happy with my thoughts on the prom. She said that when she was in high school the prom was the highlight of her year. Everyone worked hard to make the Prom the perfect evening. Planning for it began as soon as the school year began. Some of her classmates even worked with their mothers to make their own dresses. She was clearly upset by my cavalier attitude towards the affair.

In a misguided effort to make my point, I brought up the recent story about a girl named Constance whose school refused to let her bring her girlfriend to the prom. The story had gotten so much publicity that she had over 300,000 friends on Facebook. The school went so far as to cancel the prom, rather than let her bring her girlfriend to the dance. Most of the students did not care if she brought another girl, but a few vocal parents and a backward school board, resulted in to the dance cancellation. It created so much publicity, that I bet other urban school systems would probably think twice about cancelling their prom under similar circumstances.

My mother argued that the prom was a traditional affair that had been celebrated for decades and that all of the traditional pageantry was part of what made it so special. She was not upset about the two girls having a relationship, but rather, that they did not conform to the traditions of the event. I had a hard time grasping her argument about traditions, and pointed out that because of discrimination, so many students would not get to experience those traditions even if they wanted to.

I was stubbornly firm in my support in favor of Constance. I even pointed out that Constance really loved her friend and was in no way trying to mock the prom. All she really wanted to do was enjoy it like anyone else.

I related to my mother that I could appreciate her desire to be at the formal affair, but like so many others I had no one I really wanted to splurge on. Max agreed, “I would love to see what it is all about, especially all the pretty girls dressed to the nines.”

My mother made a small frown at his last comment. She made the point that it was still nearly 4 months away and that we should reconsider the possibility of attending. It was my response to her last argument that got me in hot water.

“Maybe Max and I should go together. We could see what it is all about and make a political statement all in one. I never really stand up for what I believe and I think this would be a good time to make a strong and bold statement. I am a senior and I think it is about time that I stood up for something. Constance had as much right to be there, as any of her classmates. Heck, if we went together nobody would probably notice us there anyway.”

“Clarence is that your way of telling me you are gay?”

“No mom! I’m just saying that it should not be reserved for just traditional couples, this is a new century.”

“I think two boys attending together would be assumed to be gay. Is that what you want?”

“Mom I love everything about girls, in fact, I would love to see a few of my classmates looking more like prom queens, than the androgynous way they usually dress at school.”

“You didn’t answer my question. Do you care what people would say?”

“I do care what people say, but nobody pays that much attention to me any way. I believe two people should be able to attend the Prom no matter what their orientation is.”

“Max, how would you feel about going to the Prom with my son?”

“I never really gave it much thought… Clay, would you like to be my date?”

In a sarcastic voice I did my best falsetto, “Big boy, I would love to go with you.”

The fun was lost on my mother. “Are you too serious about this? Do you really want to do this?”

“If you two are serious, I will not have you ruining the evening for others. You will have to act appropriately, and be as traditional as possible. This is not a joke. I understand if you want to change your minds, but if you are serious about this you will need to act in an appropriate and traditional way. Once you decide, either way, I expect you to stick to your choice and see it through.”

“We said we would do it. We will stick to our guns. This is an important issue mom. We are very committed to making this Prom statement.”

“Clarence, I need to give this some consideration and sleep on it. I also cannot speak for Max’s parents. I will discuss it with his mom and give the whole thing some thought. Later, if his parents and I agree to it, we will do a little advanced planning.”

“Mom, you don’t have to plan. If we do it, it shouldn’t be that complicated.”

“The Prom is a big deal to me. Having only 3  ½ months would be hard to plan for a real daughter, it will be much harder for you.”

I sort of heard what she said, but did not question her. We agreed to pick up the conversation over the following weekend. That was the end of the Prom discussion for the evening.

The rest of the evening we watched a movie, played some Scrabble, and finally watched the ball drop in Time Square. My mother insisted that we all hug each other after wishing each other a happy new year. When I hugged Max, for some reason I thought the hug lasted just a bit longer than a casual embrace.

-------------------What Did I Get Myself Into?-----------------

The remaining two days of school break were very relaxing and seemingly too soon, school was back in session. We had some finals the first week back, so I was pretty focused on studying. I did not give it much thought when my mother invited Max and his mother over for dinner on Friday. I never did get a good explanation of why Max’s dad did not join them.

It wasn’t until that evening that I began to wonder if this was related to our unusual pledge to attend the Prom together. I still thought it was a bold social statement and an important precedent, but I was a little uncomfortable about discussing this again in front of Mrs. Rosen. My assumption was correct and when it was time for dessert we gathered around the fireplace and Mrs. Rosen opened the discussion. It was very clear from the get go, that the two of them had discussed this in great detail.

Mrs. Rosen and my mother were completely on the same page on virtually every aspect of the discussion that followed. They both went to great lengths to tell about their proms and how much effort they put into them. They talked about special preparations including clothes, grooming, and that they even learning to dance properly for it. Both were adamant about how couples were to look. The men dressed in tailored tuxes, polished shoes, neatly groomed, and even smelled like men. The women were dressed in gorgeous gowns and looked like bridesmaids. They went into such detail that I was sure they were laying out the ground works for telling us we could not go.

When they felt they had sufficiently painted us a picture, they ask us again if we still felt like this was something we wanted to do. It was almost like they were baiting a trap.

“This is such a special evening and it is very important to Max’s mother and I. We both feel it was one of our most memorable nights of our lives. If you two still want to go together, you will have to follow the traditions and put yourself into it completely. No doing it just to make a point. You will attend just like any other couple. Is this something you are willing to focus on? If not, you can pass on the affair and that is fine.”

Max I looked at each other and we both nodded in the affirmative.

“If you go through with this it will be something that will not just make a bold statement, but could change your view on many things.”

“I know mom, but like Max and I said we are willing to dress up, polish our shoes and be non-disruptive. We are committed to going and are willing to do it properly. I am sure I speak for Max, but we absolutely want to make a bold Prom statement”

“Clary, I am not sure you completely understand what I am saying.”

“ It seems simple enough. We will behave, dress and act appropriately.”

“Clary, if you two are going to go together, one of you is going to be in the tux and the other one is not.”

At that statement, both Max and I froze for a moment with our jaws slightly agape.

Mrs. Rosen broke the silence. “Sarah and I have discussed this, if you two really want to attend one of you will dress and behave gentlemanly, and one of you will take on the other role.”

Almost in unison, Max and I started babbling, “What…? You can’t expect one of us to wear a dress…? This is a joke…? You are not serious…?” After we vented for a minute my mother quieted us down.

“We completely understand if this is too much to ask, but if you are going to proceed, this is how it will be. You two can select which role you would take. Max’s mother and I would assist you the rest of the way.”

Even in leaving the choice of roles up to us, it was obvious, being 5 inches shorter and built like a toothpick, which role I would be stuck with.

“Mom this is unfair.”

“You don’t have to do it.”

“I know, but this was something we felt was very important.”

“Like we said, you do not have to go through with it.”

“Why can’t we just both wear tuxes?”

“Beth and I agree, if you two are going, and as you claim not as a gay couple, then you should experience it like a traditional couple”

I did not completely get their logic, but they were firm with their resolve.

“Mom what would be involved in this charade that you are suggesting?”

“It’s not a charade. One of you would prepare to be the demure one and make every effort to be as completely perfect as possible for the Prom. That would include, clothes, grooming, and anything else Beth and I feel is appropriate. If you move forward with this, we will not put up with any defiance or lack of cooperation. This is an expensive commitment, so if either of you back out, you will both pay us back for all of the expenses. If you are uncooperative, you can just clear out your senior trip fund and pay us back immediately. Like we said, if you do not want to do this, now is the time to speak. You will both be in this together.”

“Mom, Max and I are going to go up to my room and discuss this among ourselves. We need a few minutes to think about this and decide if this is really something we should do. It seems unfair, and we need to think about it.”

“That’s a very good idea. I am glad you’re not making a rash decision and are giving it proper thought. Go upstairs and take as long as you think you need. We will stay down here and have some coffee.”

Up in my room, Max and I did not even know what to say or where to begin. They had really raised the bar on our social statement. It all started as a support for gay and lesbian rights and also just an attempt to do something a little bit out there. While I believed in the rights of the transgendered as well, this little statement of ours might take on new unintended meaning. I was a little surprised that our mothers would even consider this as an option. If one of us showed up at the school looking like a drag queen, it would certainly damage the pageantry of such a sacred event to them.

Max did not help the situation by almost immediately suggesting that I might make a cute girl. We had not even had the discussion of which one of us would take each role. I suggested he go as the girl and he just laughed.

“We both know, that if we go through with this, you are going to have to play the part of the girl. He would look beyond preposterous if I dressed up as a girl and you were my escort. That part of the conversation we can save a lot of energy on. You even have long hair that you need to put in a ponytail to keep out of your eyes. I am not saying you look like a girl, but you have a good start.”

“Thanks Max, I really appreciate that you think so little of me.”

“I’m sorry if that came off wrong, but if this is going to work, we both know which role you will have to play. It may be harder for you, but remember I will still be your date and need to support you all the way.”

“You are already talking about this like we have decided to do it. I am not really prepared to parade myself around a school function in a dress. I may be small, but I am no sissy.”

“Our moms really gave this a lot of thought. I find it very odd that they really would want us to do this. This may actually be just a challenge for them to test whether we really have the guts to stand behind our convictions. They may not even let us do this, even if we agree to move forward. I certainly can’t imagine me taking you to the Prom if you looked like some silly caricature of a girl. Before that would happen, I am sure they would put a kibosh on it.”

“Max you may be right. They may just be testing us to see how strongly we really feel about this issue. If we went downstairs and told him we decided to do it, they may even just tell us ‘NO’ right there on the spot. Then again, they may let us twist in the wind for a while and play along until we give in. Either way, I think they might look at this as a challenge to us and our ideals.”

“Clay, then again maybe it’s not a challenge and they are serious. What then?”

“Max, our mothers love us too much to let us truly embarrass ourselves. They have given this great thought and I don’t think they would do anything that might hurt us.”

“It sounds like you are willing to go forward. Am I hearing you right?”

“If I do this, you have to do whatever you can to protect me and be cooperative. I know you are my friend, but I am going to need all the support I can get from you. If our parents ask you to do something for me I do not want you to hesitate at all. With any luck, this whole fiasco will be a non-starter from the get go.”

“Well I guess little buddy we ought to go downstairs and break the news. I bet they will be a little surprised that we were willing to go through with it.”

“At least the Prom it is not for almost 3  ½ months. I will try not to worry about it for a while. Let’s go downstairs and break the news. ”

I WOULD REALLY APPRECIATE ALL FEEDBACK--- MY STORIES ARE PURE FICTION, BUT ARE BASED UPON ACTUAL EVENTS IN MY FANTASIES….

THE PROM STATEMENT: Chapter 2
By
Nina Adams

In the heat of debate, Clarence makes a Prom
Statement that would change his life forever.

-----------------The Hole Gets Deeper------------------------

Our mothers were genuinely excited to hear our decision.

“Well, have you decided who will play each part?” My mother could barely keep the sly smile off her face when she asked the question.

“Yes mother, I will be your little Prom Queen and Max will have me home before the chariot turns back into a pumpkin.”

I thought I was pretty funny, but neither of them was laughing.

“You never know, when we get done with you, he may not want to.”

I could feel a little chill go down my spine when I heard her attempt at humor.

“Okay mom, you have had your little fun. Now let’s all forget about this for a while and you can stop with the teasing.”

“That’s fine, I have a lot to do before we can get started. Don’t worry your pretty little head for a while, we will get the ball rolling.”

“What do you mean ball rolling? The Prom is not for 3  ½ months.”

“Now Claire, not only do we have to get you everything you need to be presentable, but you have a lot to learn about being a girl. You are not going to just show up and be able to present yourself as a young lady. You have a lifetime of things to learn and a very short window to learn them. We will do our best to teach you, but it will not be easy.”

“What’s with Claire? What do you mean by all of this teaching stuff?”

“You are going to have to learn not just how to look like a girl, but also how to respond like one. If you had been born a girl I was going to call you Claire. Whenever possible, I think it best that I call you that now. By the time the Prom comes around you will feel more comfortable with it. It is such a pretty name and I hope you like it.”

“I can’t believe this is already starting. Please don’t call me that.”

“Now Clarence, you agreed to be cooperative. This is what we were talking about. If you want to just hand over your senior trip cash, then just continue to complain. We will not put up with this, so when I ask you to do something, I expect you to do it and not complain. It may take a while, but I bet before long, you will begin to enjoy this. Remember the Prom was one of the best nights of my life.”

“Whatever, we will see.”

Shortly after that, Max and his mother left for home. I felt defeated even though I had stood up for my convictions. I really did not know what was in store for me, but I most certainly was not looking forward to it. Being called Claire was one thing, but I knew at some point she was probably going to make me wear a dress. With the Prom so far into the future, I was hopeful that day would be far off.

The next couple of days were relatively uneventful. I could see my mother looking at me a little differently and she practically spent the whole day Saturday on the telephone. On Sunday, she went through my closet and got rid of some clothes that no longer fit me well. She even got rid of some clothing that still fit me, but that she did not like. She used the excuse that spring was around the corner and I would need some new clothes anyway. She even went through my underwear drawer and purged almost any pair that did not look almost new. I was left with only three or four pairs of jockeys. She also managed to dispose of some of my shoes. I was left with my basic white gym shoes, my favorite black Dansko clogs, and a pair of yellow crocs.

I was thankful that I managed to make it through the weekend without further incident. I could not get the Prom out of my head, but for the moment she had not talked to me much about what she had planned for it. I actually felt relieved to get back to school and get my mind off my strange nightmares. At school on Monday I spoke with Max and he seemed unaffected by the turn of events. He was his usual friendly self, but never brought up the whole Prom situation. I guess for the moment I really didn’t need to talk about it anymore. There would probably be time for that later.

After school on Wednesday I learned that I got one of the main solo parts in the winter chorus concert. We would be singing a series of songs from the hit show Glee and I would have at least one of the major solos. I worked hard for this and was very excited to tell my mother when I got home. In Chorus, I had sung many solo lines before, but this would be my first lead solo for a whole song. I was finally going to get an opportunity to step out of the background.

I got home from school before my mother got back from the hospital. She usually beat me home, but she had recently been promoted and given major supervisory responsibilities over other nursing staff. She still did shifts as an emergency room nurse, but now she had additional responsibilities. It was a little extra work, but a prestigious promotion and paid her quite a bit more money.

When she came through the door I wasted no time in telling her of my good fortune. She could see how thrilled I was and congratulated me with a kiss and a long hug. She brought home some carryout salads from her favorite Italian restaurant called Hole in The Wall. We rarely ate carryout so I asked her if she was going out later.

“Claire dear your aunt Sharon and cousin Rachel are going to come by at seven o’clock to help me plan for your spring Prom.”

I could feel my heart drop. I was almost in too much shock to respond. A moment ago I was dancing on the clouds and now I wanted to crawl under a rock. This was beyond horrific. Not only had she spoken with her sister about me, but, she had drawn my cousin into my personal hell. Rachel was only two years older than me and had graduated high school just one year ago. This was getting more embarrassing by the second.

I always found my cousin Rachel one of the most mesmerizing girls I had ever known. She was just about the prettiest girl I had ever seen and now this. I always felt strange around Rachel because I found her so beautiful. She was gorgeous in every way and even dressed with class and style. I always had trouble talking with her before and now she was going to be here discussing my outlandish pledge. If I wasn’t already regretting my decision, I certainly was now.

“How could you tell them about this!”

“Honey, your aunt is co-manager at David’s Bridal Boutique. Not only can she be helpful, she can get us a discount on anything we buy there. It was her idea to include Rachel.”

“I can’t face them, especially Rachel. She is going to think I am weirder than she probably already does.”

“Aunt Sharon said Rachel jumped at the opportunity to help. Remember she went to the Prom last year and works part-time at the bridal boutique. She will be able to bring some of Mrs. Rosen and my traditional ideas up to date. You should be grateful for her input.”

“What are they going to do now? This thing is not for over 3 months.”

“Tonight we’re just going to get together to put down some basic ideas and a timeline. We will probably do a little brainstorming about what needs to be done. You probably don’t even need to be around for most of the discussion.”

“I don’t want to be around for any of it.”

“Now Clarence, we talked about this. You better cooperate or expect to be punished. Do we understand each other?”

With that we sat down to eat our dinners. I hardly ate anything and asked to be excused to my room. She said she would call me down after our guests arrived or when they needed me.

Up in my room I just sat on my bed. I didn’t know how to react. I thought about calling Max, but other than complaining, I really didn’t think he could be much help. My mind was spinning. What could they be planning or brainstorming about? Maybe they just wanted to have a laugh at my expense. And how could Rachel be involved? We weren’t exactly close, but she never seemed to be mean to me or have anything against me. A few minutes after reaching my room I heard some people come in through the front door. It had to be them.

I did not want to face them and I was not going to go down unless my mother called me. I continued to hang in my room trying to not think about it. I tried doing some school reading, but my concentration was horrible. I was up in my room for about a half-hour, but got more restless by the second. The curiosity was starting to get to me. I wanted to know what they were discussing, but I did not want to join them or face them.

I decided to try and spy on their conversation. My plan was to turn the TV volume up in my room so they would think I was watching something and then listen from part way down the staircase. It was a good plan, but with the TV blaring from my room, I could barely hear any of the discussion. I thought about sneaking closer, but I did not want to be caught.

It was clear from what I could hear that they were still talking about me. All three of them were intensely involved in the banter. I could only make out bits and pieces of the discussion. I think I heard them mention things like proper fit, appointment, from work, Max, and scheduling. It was hard to follow the trail of conversation, as it seemed to keep jumping around. When I heard one of them get up I scurried back to my room.

It was probably a false alarm, but since and I couldn’t figure out what they were saying anyway, I just stayed in my room. About 20 min. later there was a knocking at my door. I nearly jumped off my bed when the pounding startled me. I turned the TV down and yelled, “Who’s there?”

“Honey, please open the door. I need to talk to you for a second.”

I reluctantly opened the door and with a long face asked my mother what she wanted.

“We have been working hard downstairs to make sure your big night is a special one. Before they leave we need you to come down stairs in your robe. You can wear a pair of shorts if you want but please do not wear a T-shirt.”

“Mom, what’s this about?”

“It’s just to show your aunt and cousin how big you are.”

“Why do I have to strip down? They’ve seen me before.”

“Clarence, please just do it and don’t make us wait.”

With that she just left the room and went downstairs. As much as I wanted to just lock myself in my closet, I figured I might as well get it over with. I put on my robe and a pair of gym shorts and slowly made my way down the stairs. I was greeted by giant smiles from Rachel and Aunt Sharon.

“Hello Princess, Rachel and I were so elated to hear about your bold social statement and are behind you 100%. We are committed to helping you make it a perfect night.”

I wanted to puke.

Quickly Rachel interjected, “When my mother told me about your plans I almost couldn’t believe it. But after I thought about it for a while I had to agree that you are totally right about your conviction. We both agreed that you should do this and we want to help you do it right.”

“I really don’t need any more help. Mother seems to have it under control.”

“Now Clarence or should I say Claire, you are going to need all the help you can get. Your Aunt and Rachel the perfect people to lend a hand.”

“What kind of help?”

“It’s not like you can snap your fingers and go from a boy one day to being escorted to the Prom the next. You have so much to master and will need all of us to avoid looking silly.”

“Fat chance of that.”

“What have I said to you? I will not have that tone. You need to be thankful that they are willing to help.”

I looked at my relatives without looking directly into their eyes and mouthed a soft, “Thank you for your help.”

“Aunt Sharon and I are going to work on some of the big picture stuff like clothes, presentation and attitude. Your cousin will tutor you on some of the finer details of being a teenage girl. If you just relax you will find this so much more fun.”

“I still don’t understand why I need so much planning.”

“By the time you show up at the dance looking like the beautiful young lady that I know you will be, I think you’ll understand that it was all necessary.”

I could feel the pit in my stomach tightening.

“Okay then, can I go back to my room?”

“You are wearing only shorts so that Aunt Sharon can take some measurements. In order to properly fit you, we need to know your exact body measurements.”
Aunt Sharon pulled from her purse a tape measure that she had borrowed from the bridal shop. She started wrapping it around me from almost every angle and on every part of my body. She wrote down her findings on a form that clearly read David’s Bridal Boutique across the top.

When she was finally done, she looked at me and proudly said, “You are so lucky to be this thin. Most of the brides that I fit would die to be so thin. The only things you lack are a few curves. But it is always easier to add a few curves than to take them away.”

I had not really thought that much beyond the concept of wearing a dress. Padding as she put it was not something that had crossed my mind. I just smiled and nodded.

Mom looked at me and in a firm voice said, “Claire that’s all we need you for tonight. Young lady, you can excuse yourself if you like.”

I turned and dashed up to my room and closed the door. About 10 min. later I could hear our guests leave. I just laid on my bed in near tears until my mother returned to my door. She softly knocked and before I responded came in.

“Honey, I know this all seems so confusing to you right now. It is a little confusing to me too. When this whole idea was suggested, I was at first upset about it. But when I looked at you, I could see that this was something important to you and that you really did want to go with Max to the Prom.”

“He’s just a friend.”

“Quiet dear, I know he is your friend, but I think he felt just as strongly about this as you. The more I thought about it, the more I thought your little social statement was a worthwhile idea and one that would be good for you to make.”

“I’m no longer as sure myself anymore.”

“I know this is not all going to be simple, but to do what is in your heart and sticking to your convictions is rarely that easy.”

“Why did you have to bring everyone into it already?”

I needed to talk with my sister to make sure it was the right thing to do. It was mostly my idea, but my sister always is helpful to me when I need some objective thinking. When I spoke with her about it, she was very supportive and helped me realize how much was involved and how little time we actually had.”

“I still don’t get the time thing. The Prom is not until near the end of April.”

“She told me that a lot of the other girls had already ordered their dresses. In your case you have never even worn one.”

“Mom!”

“It’s true. Do you remember how beautiful Rachel was last year for her Prom?”

“Of course! She wore that long silky powder blue dress and those tall white spiked shoes. Her hair cascaded down both sides of her gorgeously made up face. She looked much older than 17. I thought she was the prettiest thing I had ever seen.”

“I see you remember her gown well. If we are going to make you beautiful it is going to take a lot more work than it was for Rachel.”

“Mom, I am not going to look like Rachel.”

“Don’t be so sure. I think with proper effort you will look lovely.”

“I am a boy. I don’t want to be lovely!”

“It’s better to be lovely than to show up looking like a boy in a dress.”

“I guess you are right about that. This is going to be so embarrassing.”

“It will only be embarrassing if you let it. Just let us bring out what is inside of you.”

“Inside of me?”

“You need to let the soft side of what is inside of your soul out. Don’t fight it.”

“I am still not completely sure.”

“Honey this is for you and Max, but I have to admit I will probably enjoy some of this too.”

“You want to see me squirm?”

“No dear, because your father died so young, I never had a chance to have a daughter. At least for a while I may get to experience some of that. I think getting you ready for the Prom will be fun for me.”

“I am glad for that. I will try and cooperate, but remember I’m just a boy. I am not really a girl.”

“Thank you honey. But Claire, you need to try and forget that last fact.”

It was nice to have had this personal discussion with my mother about what I had committed myself to. I could see that she had thought this all through and for whatever reasons, was anxious to see it to the end. Clearly, there was going to be much more to this than I originally thought, but I still had almost no clue about what was might lie ahead. I still felt uneasy, but I was going to try and be cooperative and follow their lead. I fell asleep thinking about Rachel dressed so magnificently in her Prom attire.

To be continued……

I WOULD REALLY APPRECIATE ALL FEEDBACK--- MY STORIES ARE PURE FICTION, BUT ARE BASED UPON ACTUAL EVENTS IN MY FANTASIES….

THE PROM STATEMENT: Chapter 3
By
Nina Adams

In the heat of debate, Clarence makes a Prom
Statement that would change his life forever.

In this chapter Claire’s preparations get a kick-start.

------------------------A Foundation For The Future---------------------

We all gathered in the family room with most of the boxes sitting in the middle of the floor. Rachel sat right next to me on the loveseat to provide me with support. I was going to try and bite my tongue and just accept my fate.

“Claire, I know this is all going to be so foreign to you, but I think we have enough to get you started. We really do not know how best to begin, but we figure that you needed to start feeling comfortable dressing in a more feminine way around the house. The three of us will then work with you to refine your skills. By the dance you should be more than ready.”

Before they could continue, I interrupted my mother, “Rachel and I all ready talked about this and she promised to help me, but I don’t want you to tell anyone else about all this. If my school friends found out I would be the laughing stock.”

“Honey for now, we are just going to focus on time away from school. Max is the only school friend who needs to know anything about this.”

“Okay, show me what’s here so we can get it over with.”

“Your mother and I have put together an assortment of clothes and other things so you can come home from school each day and change. We have some casual things and other clothes if you feel like being dressier or more stylish.”

“Why do I have to do this each day? Can’t I just do this when you stop by?”

“You don’t have to do this every day. If you have school activities or special plans, you don’t have to wear these things unless you want to. However, until you get more adjusted, we all agree that you need to spend as much time as possible learning how to act properly. Also a lot of the clothing is not that different from your current wardrobe. What you have on now is a perfect example.”

“Where is this all going to be stored?”

“Your mother has already made a lot of space for you in your room. We can probably make some more space later as you might need it. We will all help you organize your room so that you can find what you need.”

“Claire, let’s start with this first box. This box contains things that you will probably need every day. The box contains lingerie, foundation items, intimates and some new sleepwear. You will need these items for under your new pretty things.”

She then took everything out of the box and laid the items into separate stacks. There were more panties, with different styles and colors. There were bras, which I had a hard time not staring at. Also included were socks, tights and some items I did not recognize. Finally there was a small pile of satin like items, which apparently were sleepwear.

“Mom, that’s a lot of briefs and I don’t have any need for a bra… look at me.”

Rachel dug into one of the other boxes. She pulled out a set of jellylike blobs. “I suggest to our parents that you shouldn’t be too big on top, so we got you a ”B+” set. Down the road if you want to be more daring, we can get you a larger pair.”

“What are all these other things?”

“We have hip pads, a waist cinch and a full corset. These items will give you better shape when wearing some of the clothes. Of course, the corset will also help with your posture as well. There are a few other things, but we’re getting ahead of ourselves.”

“Rachel dear, why don’t you hand your cousin the pink bra over there and those inserts. Claire, please take off your top and try the bra on.”

“Can I do that later?”

“We want to see how it fits.”

Rachel then showed me how to put on the bra and hook the clasps. “It’s best if you hook them from behind. If you do it in front and spin the bra around it won’t last as long.”

She slipped the forms into the cups and then smiled at me. “You’re on your way girl.”

My aunt was only partially pleased; she kept staring at me with her observant eyes.

“I do so many fittings at the boutiques, so I am happy that I got your size right, but the rest of your body looks like a pole.”

“Sis, what do you suggest?”

“If we want some of the nicer clothes to look good on her, we’re going to have to do a lot of work on her shape.” Each time she clearly emphasized ‘her’.

“Sharon dear, I told you, we need to focus on just clothes now. I’m not ready for those other more aggressive ideas yet.”

“Mom what other ideas?”

“Nothing dear, aunt Sharon is just getting ahead of herself with things we don’t have in the box. Let’s start by trying the hip pads and corset now”

“I don’t know how to put those on.”

“I wouldn’t expect you would. Go to the bathroom and take off your slacks and pull your legs into this padded panty. Before you get it up all the way, pull your privates back between your legs. This foundation item is very elastic and should hold everything in place. When you are done, come back out and we will help you with her corset.”

“I don’t want to come out in only underwear.”

“Honey, it’s only us girls and your aunt and cousin do fittings all day long.”

In the bathroom I did as they asked and the pads held everything firmly in place. Before re-entering the room I glanced at myself in the mirror. It was the first time I got to see the effects of the bra. I was now flat in my groin and curved in my chest area. My hair was nearly dry and draped over my head. The image was more than a little feminine; I looked like a teenage girl, maybe a tomboy, but definitely a girl. I was both scared and fascinated at the same time. I could feel myself getting aroused. It was not very comfortable with my erection pulled back between my legs. I took my time before going back to the women.

I could see on all of their faces that my new image was intriguing to them. I could also see that they noticed my slight uncomfortable bulge.

“Well at least now we have some hips and a butt. I think the corset should really help now.”

Rachel then wrapped the white device around my midsection. Together we hooked it up in the front. When we were done, she went behind me and started pulling on the strings. It quickly became uncomfortable.

My mother stopped her from making it too tight. “Rachel make it snug, but we can tighten it a little more as she becomes more used to it.”

With all of these items on, I could see my aunt beaming. “Claire, that is so much better, you’re going to be absolutely gorgeous.”

I could see my mother looking at me in a strange way. She was quiet and almost tearful.

“What’s wrong mom? I am trying to be cooperative.”

“It’s not that Claire. I never expected to feel what I am feeling right now. You look so pretty. I am okay with this, it’s just emotional for me.”

“Mom let’s try a dress on Claire, instead of the boring slacks and T-shirt.”

A couple of minutes later I was standing in front of them in a blue pullover linen dress that reached to mid thigh. I was also wearing tall black boots with 2-inch heels. Rachel brushed my hair out and led be back to our parents.

They were awestruck. They had me turn around a few times to get the full effect. I guess with all the smiles and encouragement I was getting more relaxed with them seeing me in this attire. I knew that what I was doing was kind of bizarre, but I was starting to get over the initial shock.

Sharon looked at my mother and commented, “Even without makeup, jewelry or hair, she makes an attractive young lady. She will only become more beautiful.”

“Rachel then shouted, “Mom can I try the blonde wig on her?”

“Sure honey, but I don’t think it will look good on her.”

“She pulled out of one of the boxes a mid-length blonde wig. The bleach color was a major contrast to my dark brown hair. The wig was not really any longer than my own hair, but was much wavier than my hair. She pulled my hair back and slowly stretched the cap over my crown. She fluffed it out and giggled.

“What’s so funny?”

“You look like a different person. There is no way that anyone would recognize you. Even your mother wouldn’t know it was you if she didn’t know you had a wig on. It’s cute, but the style is really for someone older. You need a more youthful look. It’s fun though to see the effect. I wish I could give you some dangling earrings to wear with it. I guess that will have to wait. Go show them.

I took a quick peek at myself in the mirror and almost swooned. I looked like a girl at school that I knew from homeroom. I always thought she was kind of cute, but maybe it was just in my head, but I thought I looked as nice as her.

Aunt Sharon pretty much mirrored the thoughts of Rachel, “you look so different, but the style is not right for you. Your face is thin, so you need more body on the sides. If you want to dye your hair blond I am sure you would look spectacular, but your natural chestnut brown is such a pretty color. I guess we’ll have to talk with the stylist before we decide.”

Her comment about the stylist brought me back to earth. “What about a stylist? This is for dressing at the house. I can’t go to a stylist.”

“You already make a lovely niece, but your hair needs body. Your mother and I go to Lulu’s and she is a magician. I am sure she can give you a look that works for Clarence and Claire. She’s not likely to cut that much off so you can always pull it back like you typically do now. We will make sure she understands what you need.”

I was very unsure about expanding on any of this, especially outside the safe confines of the house. I also did not want any other people to know what was going on. Getting my hair trimmed in a salon did not seem like a very good idea to me. This was all happening so fast.

“Can I go change now? I think this is all I can handle for one day.”

“Honey, I don’t want you to change. When you are home you need to get comfortable this way. If you want to have Rachel pick out something else for you, then that would be okay. She will help you put away the rest of your new things. And don’t forget to thank her for all of her help.

“I have to stay this way all day?”

“We talked about this, until you get totally comfortable this way, it is necessary. Besides you look very nice. If you like, later you can invite Max over to show him how well you are doing.”

“No way, he will think I am crazy or worse.”

“He’s going to see you eventually. You two are in this together, so I am sure he would be happy to come over and show his support.”

“That may be, but I am not ready to face him yet.”

“Suit yourself, go with Rachel and put your new things away.”

Rachel emptied everything onto my bed and floor. I couldn’t believe how many clothes there were. There were of course, a bunch of dresses, but in addition there was a ton of everyday casual clothing. A lot of it was not overly girlish and actually very androgynous. She put all of my new lingerie in with my boys under things. There was only one clean pair of my underpants in the drawer and she nearly filled it up with girl stuff.

We stuck some of the sweaters on my closet shelves and hung all of the dresses on the closet rods. I had three new pairs of shoes to go along with the tall boots I was already wearing. There were two pairs of casual everyday shoes and a strappy pair of dress shoes with a pencil thin heel. That pair had at least 3-inch heels. I had no idea how anyone could walk in those. The remaining slacks, jeans, and tops found miscellaneous homes scattered around my room. Some went into drawers and others hung in the closet.

The end result was that I had as many girl's things as boy's. There was no possible way I could let any of my friends into my room. Not having any sisters, I couldn’t comprehend of any way to explain the clothing away. Life was going to be very challenging until the Prom. At least there were some new clothes that I could wear that weren’t all that feminine.

My cousin and Aunt Sharon left us mid-afternoon. Shortly after that my mother asked to see me in my room. She checked out where we put everything and moved a couple of the items to other locations. When she was finished we had one more girl-to-girl talk.

“Claire, we have gotten you a lot of really nice things and I expect you to take care of them. We can re-arrange things if we need some space later. Monday, I have a floor sample vanity being delivered from Dania’s furniture. After it arrives, we can lay out and store some of your cosmetics as we figure out what you need.”

“A vanity! This is all supposed to be temporary, where are we going to put it?”

“Well you never use your desk. Most of the time you do your work on your bed or downstairs. We can put your desk in the basement. If necessary, we can move it back upstairs down the road.”

“Why do I need a vanity anyway? If you ever want to make me wear lipstick, can’t we just do that in your room?”

“That kind of silly statement is exactly why you need your own vanity. Rachel and I will give you lessons and you will need to practice-practice-practice. You need to perfect your skills, before your big dance. We will get started on that in a few days.”

“I can’t wait.”

“Don’t be sarcastic with me.”

“Sorry mom, it’s just all so much for me to absorb at once.”

“That’s why we needed time and I don’t want to push you too hard.”

“It seems like so much already. My room is full of so many new things. Do you really think I need all this?”

It will take a while to see what you really need and like. We can fill in the holes later. Some of these things are everyday items that can replace some of your dated old things with.”

“You mean the casual things for after school? I saw some of that stuff. I guess those things are okay.”

“Yes dear, those are nice, but some of this you can wear during the day. Jeans are jeans, slacks are slacks, and nobody can tell the difference without seeing the labels. It will be your secret. I’m not suggesting you were a dress to school, but jeans and a blue sweater will be an improvement on your current get up.”

“I can’t wear girls clothes to school. People will laugh at me.”

“First off, I bet no one notices, and besides you always say no one notices you at school anyway. Initially, the only things you will wear will be the neutral styles and androgynous items. If you get laughed at or it causes you any problems, we will deal with that then. You don’t even have gym class anymore, so you’d don’t have to get dressed in front of anyone. Stop worrying.”

“The corset is getting very uncomfortable, can I at least take that off.”

“How about you stay like this until dinner and then I will help you change into something more casual. At that point, you can switch into the waist cinch. It will be more comfortable and less restrictive. I want you to wear the corset whenever possible to help with your posture and body shaping.”

“Fine, I guess I can make it a little longer. What now?”

Why don’t you help me finish folding the laundry and then you can go relax in your room.”

The rest of the day was much more laid back. I changed into jeans and the top I wore in the morning. The big difference, however, was that I still wore the hip pads, waist cinch and brassiere. With my hair not in a ponytail, my appearance clearly leaned to the female side of androgynous. I finished all of my schoolwork in front of the fireplace with my mother. I was very tired from the emotional roller coaster and turned in early.

On my bed was a two-piece pajama set. It was pale blue with a tank top style on top and long silky legs. It was not part of the clothing that we put away, but was neatly folded on my bed. It was obvious that my mother had put this out for me to wear tonight. I picked them up and could immediately sense their silky smooth feel. I was tired and ready to crash so I resigned myself sleeping in them.

I removed all of my new things and carefully put everything away. As I slipped on my silky bottoms, I noticed the Victoria’s Secret label. I immediately had memories of flipping through one of their catalogs. I had always found the women clad in their sexy lingerie very erotic. Now here I was pretending to be one of those women. The combination of the sensuous feel of the material and the thoughts floating through my head began to get me aroused. I was afraid of my mother possibly coming in and seeing me that way, so I jumped in my bed and under my blankets. I stared at my ceiling in disbelief for a few minutes until I finally fell asleep.

When I awoke the next morning I could remember a restless night of sleep. I had fallen asleep quickly enough, but I woke a number of times during the night. I could not remember my dreams, but remember that Max was in at least some of them.

Before I climbed out of my bed I wondered what might be in store for me again today. I wondered if my mother would insist that I continue to dress so femininely. I figured she would at least want to know that I wore my new pajamas. As I climbed out of bed I began to panic. I could see that I had created an obvious mess in my pajama bottoms. During the night I had apparently experienced an intense sexual pleasure at some point during my sleep.

There was no way I could go downstairs like that. I wanted to show my mother that I was cooperating, but I could not go downstairs for Sunday breakfast in my pajamas with that mess. I figured my best alternative was to change into some of my new clothes to show her I was still trying.

I removed my pajamas and put on a fresh pair of panties along with the hip pads, cinch and a white brassiere. I inserted my breast forms and stood for a moment in front of my mirror. I had to admit that my enhanced body shape was quite amazing. I felt almost pleased that I had such an attractive figure. I knew it was not all me, but to my eyes it looked quite natural. I am not sure what possessed me but I shook my head so my long hair would fly around over my shoulders. It was the first time I had acted so girlishly without the prodding of a relative. I quickly caught myself and headed to my closet to find something to wear.

I grabbed a pair of what appeared to be blue jeans and a green sweater. First, I put on the sweater to cover my foundation. The sweater was very different than a boy’s sweater. It was not tight, but it contoured to my new shape. It was also extremely long. It was not a dress, but it definitely reached to the bottom of my butt. Before I had a chance to put on the jeans my mother yelled for me to come down to breakfast. I quickly shifted to sliding on the jeans. I found that these were not really jeans. They were made of soft denim, but they were actually a type of tights. They did not have a fly like a true pair of jeans. They match the sweater, but the combo was a lot more girlish than was my intention. I did not have time to change, so I slipped on the Mary Jane loafers and went down to breakfast.

When I entered the kitchen my mother did a double take. She looked me over with a pleased look across her face. It was only then that I realized that my hair was still loosely draped over my shoulders.

“Claire you look so lovely, I think you did a wonderful job picking out an outfit.”

“Thanks mom. I didn’t feel like wearing pajamas to breakfast. Is this okay?”

“Of course. I am so glad you are already getting comfortable in your new wardrobe. Your hair looks much healthier today, but really needs some body. After breakfast we will see if we can do anything with it.”

The conversation over breakfast was pleasant and not that different from our normal conversation. Every so often she would tell me to sit a little different or talk a little different. The physical coaching was easier for me to absorb than the language tips. She had me using more words like lovely, dreamy, and cute. She had me slow down my speech and even tried for me to use a slightly higher pitch. My singing voice already had an unusually high pitch for a boy, so this was not all that difficult for me to master. It was the word choices that were hard for me to grasp. She said it would take some time, but she would give me tips whenever she could.

After breakfast I helped clean the kitchen. I also volunteered to do a load of laundry. I figured I could slip in my soiled pajamas without drawing her attention. Mother, commented how pleasant I was acting this morning. She went so far as to say that she liked some of the side benefits of my personality change.

A short while after we had completed our tasks she suggested that it would be a good time to play with my hair a little. I expressed no resistance and asked her what she had in mind.

“I don’t want to cut anything, because I want that to be done professionally. Until you took the initiative to make your bold social statement, I was not real happy that your hair had grown so long. Now I look at your tresses with such possibilities. Your hair is so long that you will now be able to wear it in many different styles. After your hair gets some shaping and you put on a touch of makeup, you will be as attractive as any other girl in your school.”

“Mom, that is nice of you to say, but remember, I am not a girl. This is only to make my point.”

“Well you’re going to have to get used to being attractive. The boys, including Max, are going to find you very enticing.”

“You are making me nervous again, and besides when Max sees me, he will probably want to keep his distance.”

“I bet he loves your new look and even tells you that.”

“Well, he’s not going to see me like this for a while.”

“That’s fine. After you practice a little more and get your hair trimmed, you will project an even more radiant appearance.”

“I am in no hurry.”

“Let’s try and add some body to your hair. I am sure that will help. Follow me into my bathroom.”

Inside the bathroom she dampened my hair. She parted my wet hair straight down the middle. She then took out a curling iron and explained to me how it works. She wanted me to be able to do everything she was going to show me, on my own. She proceeded to wrap my hair around the iron and soon enough, I had dozens of cascading soft curls.

I was fascinated to see the change she created in my plain boyish face. She had not cut one hair, but now my hair looked almost like the blonde wig, but now in a chestnut brown. Mother easily picked up on my interest with the new look. She interrupted my preening in front of the mirror with a small Q-tip looking brush. She then began to stroke a pinkish red lip-gloss onto my lips. The color highlighted my lips and brightened my whole face. I was now staring at a teenage girl that reflected very little resemblance to my former self.

Inside I could feel myself getting excited again. I was not sure why I found the reflection appealing. Was it because she was a pretty girl or was it that I was happy that the image was actually me. I only knew that I found unexpected pleasure in the reflection and that I needed to keep that thought to myself.

“I think the curls and lipstick look very nice on you. What do you think, Claire?”

“I guess they look alright. How will I get rid of the curls before school?”

“Don’t worry. These will not last. If you wash your hair they will disappear. Tomorrow after school you should try this by yourself.”

“If that is what you think best, then I will.”

The rest of the day I got schooled on everything, including every aspect of my behavior and movements. She kept correcting me on my use of language as well as how I moved and carried myself. I did not realize how different boys and girls did things until she started coaching me on all of the subtleties. She had me hold my arms with my elbows in and palms out. She shortened my stride and adjusted me on how my hips should move. She even got me tilting my head when I was happy or smiling. It was a full day of relearning how to move and talk. I had only picked up some of the skills, but it was amazing to me how much I had changed practically overnight.

The activities of the day almost seem like a game and I had enjoyed getting the occasional compliment from my mother. At the end of the day I took a shower and without prodding put back on my now clean pajamas. I was still more than a little scared and confused about what was ahead, but for one day it had not been totally horrible.

-----------------------Back to School----------------------

On Monday I wore my old jeans and one of my Coldplay T-shirts. Under my manly façade was a pair of my new panties. I could see a little disappointment in my mother’s eyes when I came down for breakfast.

“Claire, I thought you would wear something new.”

“Mom, the Prom is so far away and I need to be careful at school. Dressing like a girl at home is one thing, but I do not want to look like a sissy at school.”

“We picked out a lot of things that should be fine for school. They are nicer than your old clothes and a boy or a girl could wear those neutral styles. Tomorrow I want to see you wear at least one new thing.”

“Maybe tomorrow mom, but today I have an exam and chorus practice after school. I need to be focused on school today and not thinking so much about my appearance.”

“That’s fair, but when you get home I expect you to put on your new things, including the corset. I want you to make a lot of progress before the weekend.”

“What’s so magical about this weekend?”

“Nothing dear. You just need to have goals. It will make the weekend more relaxing for you if I don’t have to coach you as much.”

“Okay mom, I will change when I get home.”

“Don’t forget to try and put some curls in your hair.”

School was pretty uneventful and I think I did very well on my exam. During chorus practice I got the opportunity for the first time to practice my new solo. After going through what I had over the weekend, standing in front of my chorus friends singing a solo seemed a relative piece of cake. I was not nervous about it at all.

Max asked me how my weekend had gone. I had a very hard time explaining to him why I had basically just hung out at the house. I was too embarrassed to tell him the truth about what I had been doing at the house. At some point I would probably have to confess to him, but I was hoping to put it off as long as possible.

He mentioned that a couple of new movies would be opening over the next weekend and wondered if I might like to go to see one. It sounded like a great idea. It would allow me to get out of the house and possibly avoid dressing for the whole weekend. I suggested we go on Saturday, but I did not tell him it was so I could get a break from dressing during the middle of the weekend. We did not pick out the specific movie or time, and figured we would do that later.

He mentioned to me that his mother was going to take him to get fitted for a tux soon. He said his mother did not want him to rent one, but rather to buy one so it would look more stylish and fit better. He laughed and said our parents were apparently very serious about this whole Prom statement thing. He asked me if I knew when I would be going to get fitted for my new outfit. I didn’t have to lie, because no one had actually brought up that topic as yet. I thought about telling him about my activities, but I thought better of it.

When I got home I did exactly as my mother had requested. I made my way up to my room and stripped off all of the boy clothes that I had worn during the day. I soaked my hair at the sink and wrapped a towel around it. I proceeded to put on the hip pads, corset and one of my brassieres. Putting on the corset by myself was a little more challenging. My aunt had shown me how to properly pull the strings when I was doing it by myself. Start at the bottom, and pull across your body. I had a hard time tying the strings, but eventually I got the task done. I selected a maroon pair of corduroy pants and a white peasant style blouse. After slipping into the clothes, I proceeded to try and curl my hair. My mother made it look easier than it really was. After a while I got better at it, but when I was done it did not look as nice as when my mother had done it.

I stood up and looked at myself in front of the full-length mirror. I looked nice but something was obviously missing. I remembered that yesterday my mother had put lipstick on me. I went back into her bathroom and found the lipstick from yesterday. I stroked it across my lips with some frustration. The first couple of times I tried to do it, I ended up looking like a three-year-old. By my third attempt, I was able to do a reasonably good job. I returned to my room after I had finished. When I looked at myself in the mirror this time I felt good about what I had accomplished. I am not sure what possessed me, but I grabbed two of the silver bracelets off my dresser and put one around each wrist. They were basic silver bands, but I thought they looked like they would match the style of the peasant blouse.

I spent the next hour doing my homework and every so often I glanced at myself in the mirror. I was excited to show mother how I had done when she returned from the hospital. When she saw me, I could see a pleased look on her face. However, she never really made a comment about my clothing. She asked me about my day and how the exam went. It was almost as if the way I was dressing was nothing out of the norm.

Shortly before we sat down to eat dinner she did comment that she thought the bracelets were a nice touch. She mentioned that silver drop earrings would have looked nice as well. I mentioned that I did not see any earrings in my room. She mentioned that it was probably because all of Rachel’s earrings were for pierced ears.

During dinner she mentioned that she had made an appointment for me to get my hair trimmed at Lulu’s Salon up in Highland Park. “Your hair is so long and I think it time that Lulu take a look at it and clean up some of your split ends.”

“Do I really have to go there already? Can’t we just wait until closer to the Prom? I will do a better job of taking care of my hair.”

“Don’t worry your pretty little head. She is the best and I am sure you will love what she will do for you. I have been going to her for almost 10 years and she is practically family. I discreetly talked to her about your wonderful plans and she said she would help in every way possible.”

“You already told another person what I was doing. You have to stop telling people. She will probably blab it to all of her customers.”

“I know Lulu and there is no way she would tell anyone.”

“What if I see some of my friends in there? How can I go to a salon?”

“Honey this salon is up in Highland Park. I am sure that most of the kids around here do not go all the way up to Highland Park to get their haircut. Lulu’s is also a bit pricey for most of your friends from school. It is an upscale salon, and besides you would almost certainly only see other girls in there. I will suggest to her that she cut your hair in the back room where there are only a couple of styling stations. Is that better?”

“I guess it’s better than having it done somewhere around here. What time do we have to be there?”

“Your manicure and pedicure are at 10 a.m., so I guess she will probably start cutting your hair around 11 or 11:30.”

“You didn’t say anything about a manicure or a pedicure.”

“You really don’t have that much to work with on your hands and feet, but you need to begin taking better care of them. After they clean them up, you can begin to let your fingernails grow a little. It’s a lot like your hair, to have nice hands it takes a little bit of work.”

“Any more surprises for me?”

“No, Claire, everything seems to be under control.”

We spent the rest of the evening much like we did over the weekend with her coaching my every movement and critiquing my use of language. I was gradually getting more proficient and after a while it didn’t seem that I had to think about it as much. The better I got at acting like a girl the less strange it felt to me. This same routine went on for the next three days. By Thursday it felt almost second nature. Only on occasion did my mother need to interject things that I was doing incorrectly.

On Tuesday I wore one of the new sweaters that belonged to Rachel. It was a very basic black with a V-neckline. It was extremely soft and I actually liked the feel of it. I did not receive a single comment from any of my friends and I continued to stay invisible to the bulk of the student body.

On Wednesday I added a pair of blue jeans that also belong to Rachel. They had a boot cut and I wore my Dansko clogs with them. On top I wore a long sleeved yellow T-shirt. The only real difference in the top was that the opening had a more oval shape to it. My change of style pretty much went unnoticed. My friend Max was the only one to ask if the clothes were new. Before I could answer, he said I looked nice.

By Friday, my anxiety over wearing the androgynous looking clothes began to melt. My biggest difficulty was trying to walk and talk like my old self. Every now and then I would find myself moving more like Claire, than Clarence. It was almost like I had to think about acting more macho. One time during chorus practice on Thursday one of my friends started complimenting me on my singing and I instinctively smiled and tilted my head a little bit. He looked at me a little strangely, but did not say anything to me.

After school on Friday I walked home with Max. We agreed to go to the movie on Saturday night at the local theater. We decided to see the movie Country Strong starring Gwyneth Paltrow. We thought we would enjoy it because it included a lot of singing and dancing. It was not exactly a typical guy movie, but we both enjoyed music so much. He was going out with his family Friday night for dinner and I basically planned to hang out with my mother at home much as I had done all week.

When I got home I wasted no time changing into some of my new clothes. I had gotten pretty good at putting on the corset and after having worn it for a full week, it did not seem quite as uncomfortable. Since it was Friday night I figured I might as well curl my hair again and look a little more stylish. I put on a long red sweater and a pair of black tights. To complete the look I put on my tall black boots. With my lipstick and curled hair I knew I looked pretty good. For some reason I wanted to look a little prettier for my mother since it was Friday. Normally on Friday my mother made it home before me, but today I had plenty of time to get myself ready. When she came through the door she apologized for being late. I came out and greeted her and told her it was no big deal. She was surprised to see that I had already changed.

“Sorry, Claire, I was hoping to get home before you. I want us to head up to Northbrook Court to check out the once a year big sale at Neiman Marcus. I see that you already changed your clothes. I was going to help you pick out something that you would be comfortable wearing out in public over your new intimates. But now I see that you have already curled your hair and look so nice. It would be a shame for you to change. This would be a very good time for my little butterfly to spread her first wings.”

“Mom, there is absolutely no way I’m leaving the house looking like this. I have no intention of dressing up like a girl in public. I put on these clothes for you, so we could spend an enjoyable evening here at home.”

“Claire, this is a really big sale and there are a few items I want to check out for myself. This will be fun for you and just think of it as an adventure. You have gotten so comfortable in your new role, that I am totally confident that it will be the same for you out at the mall. I can pretty much guarantee you that none of your Evanston friends will be spending their Friday night up at Northbrook Court. This is the next step in getting you comfortable for the dance.”

“I’m not ready to go out in public yet. People will be able to tell that I am a boy.”

“I will bet you that nobody can tell. If somebody figures out that you are a boy without us telling them, I will add $100 to your summer funds. I will even add $50 to your summer funds if nobody can tell. But if nobody figures it out, then tomorrow you have to wear a skirt or dress all day. I think that’s a very fair challenge.”

“You’ll give me money either way? That seems pretty good, but I still don’t think I’m ready to go out.”

“You are more ready than me. I am the one who has to go change. All you need is a coat to cut the winter chill. Give me 10 min. to get ready and we can catch a bite to eat after we get there. Relax this will be fun.”

As we made our way up the Edens Expressway I felt an uncomfortable chill going up and down my spine. My mind was racing with thoughts of running into somebody I might know. It would be impossible to explain why I was dressed this way. Even if somebody would understand my motivation for the Prom, it would be difficult to explain this away three months before the event. I felt a certain level of doom as we pulled into the parking lot.

We parked at the East End of the mall right near the entrance to Neiman Marcus. My mother sensed my anxiety and reassured me that I had nothing to worry about. I stayed very close to my mother as we made our way into the store. I kept looking around to make sure there was no one there that I recognized. It only took us a minute and we were in the middle of a crowded women’s department. There were racks and racks of clothing and accessories. While my mother looked at a few things for herself, it was clear she was mostly looking at things for me. As we looked through the racks, we were approached by a sales lady that asked us if we needed any assistance. I kept saying we were just browsing as my mother piled up more and more things that she considered purchasing for me.

When she felt she had accumulated a sufficient number of garments, she looked at me and said it was time to try them on.

“I can’t try them on here, that wouldn’t be right.”

“Claire, I’m not buying all of these outfits without you trying them on first. I will go into the changing room with you, but we need to see which ones fit and which ones look nice on you. I don’t want to hear an argument.”

Somewhere in the past week or two I had lost my backbone. I followed her into the changing room and began the process of trying on more than a dozen different items. One time when I came out wearing a chiffon dress one of the sales ladies commented how well it accentuated my beautiful figure. It was a beautiful short dress, but I couldn’t imagine any occasion that I would need to wear it.

By the time we were done I had two more dresses, a dressy pair of slacks, a silk tunic, and two more tops that my mother thought were appropriate for school. I thought they were too feminine, but she overruled me. We moved from the clothing department over to the shoe department. There I acquired a much more feminine pair of clogs than my old Danskos. These were a glossy dark midnight blue shade, with a slightly higher heel than the ones I used to wear. She also picked out for me a grey pair of dance flats that she said would be nice with jeans for school. They look like girls slippers, but my comments seemed to go unheard.

I thought we were done shopping as we headed to the mall to get a bite to eat. Before we could leave the store we paused for a few minutes in the cosmetics department. Mother pretended to be looking at some eyeliner for herself, and soon we were assisted by one of the specialists. For a minute or two, my mother sat in the chair as the woman assessed what she might need. When my mother got up she suggested that I sit down next.

I could see the lights go on inside the cosmologist’s eyes. I was like a fresh palette waiting to be filled. She looked at my face from every angle and asked me if there was any special look I wanted to achieve. I sat there in mostly silence, as I had no clue how to respond. Not surprisingly my mother was quick to fill the void.

“My daughter, Claire, has always been a bit of a tomboy. Tomorrow I will be taking her to get a little more style with her hair. I really don’t want her wearing a lot of makeup, but it would be nice if she had a few things to make her look a little more mature. Nothing cakey, but possibly something that might bring out her eyes and facial features a little bit.”

“I think I know what you mean. She has very pretty features even without wearing any makeup. I can suggest a few things for daytime wear. There are a few other items that would look great on her for eveningwear or possibly out on a date. If you have a couple of minutes, I would like to show you.”

“That would be wonderful. Claire, please pull back your hair, so she can try a few things on you.”

“Not too much please. I don’t usually wear makeup.”

“Do not worry, if you have on the right makeup, it really doesn’t look like you’re wearing that much.”

“Claire, pay attention to what she is doing, you might learn a trick or two.”

In less than 10 minutes my face went through a minor transformation. She lined my eyes on both the top and bottom, thickened my eyelashes with some mascara, dusted my eyelids with a hint of blue, and highlighted my cheekbones with a rosy pink. She replaced the lipstick that I had been wearing with a lighter shade of red. She worked on my eyebrows a bit, but suggested that a little shaping would make a greater difference than her cosmetic highlighter.

My mother stood calmly as she worked everything onto my face. When she was finished, she pulled out a few additional types of eyeshade and blush that she recommended for the evening. Pleased with my changes, my mother told her to ring up all of the items. It was only then, that I got a chance to see the effects.

With each change in my appearance, it became harder and harder for me to see my old self. With the makeup on, I was hard-pressed to tell that it was me staring back at myself. This was not a boy trying to pass himself off as a girl, but rather, a cute looking teenage woman. As I looked at my pretty face in the mirror I knew passing, as a girl was no longer an issue. Even my close friends from chorus, would unlikely be able to see through my deception. I felt completely emasculated.

I felt much more confidence in my appearance as we headed into the mall to grab some food. We walked through the mall and made our way inside the Claim Company. Inside, we each had a bowl of soup and shared a salad. My mother pointed out to me that it was important that I watch my figure. I really never had a problem with weight in the past, but life had changed so much in the last few days.

While we were eating our food, I noticed a couple of guys sitting at a nearby table that kept looking at me. I knew they were not from my school, because they were wearing high school colors that were not ours. I wasn’t sure why they kept looking at me, but one of them seemed to be smiling at me.

“Claire, I think those boys fancy you. I guess that is something you’re just going to have to get used to. You should be careful how you respond, because I do not think you are ready to handle the attention.”

“My God, do you think they know I’m a boy? Am I that obvious?”

“Honey, admit it, you make a very attractive young lady, and they just find you pretty. You should feel good about that.”

“I’m a boy I don’t want other boys interested in me.”

“Well right now, I really don’t see a boy at this table, nor to those boys that are looking at you.”

“Mom I’m ready to go can we leave now?”

Back in the mall my mother insisted that we do a little more window-shopping.

“Claire, I don’t think we really need many more things today, but I really want to know what types of things you like or don’t like. I want you to tell me what you think of some of the window displays. It will give me a better idea in case we want to get you anything else.”

Over the next 45 minutes or so, we walked through most of the shopping mall. At first, I was very tightlipped about commenting about woman’s fashions, but eventually I began to loosen up. At first I would say something like, if I was a girl, but before long I simply expressed what I liked or didn’t like.

“You seem to like things that are definitely feminine, but not showy or risqué. You certainly seem to be more of the “girl next door” type, rather than the attention getter.”

One of the few stores that we actually walk through was called 21 Forever. Most of the people inside the store were girls my age. It had a lot of trendy clothing and was loaded with all sorts of accessories. I ended up getting a wide belt that my mother said would look nice over one of the sweater dresses. As we left the store my mother pulled me into Claire’s Store.

“Honey, this store is named after you. Isn’t that cute.”

“Mom, what do we need inside here?”

“Let’s just look around for a few minutes. They have very inexpensive jewelry, so see if there’s anything that you like.”

While I was looking at bracelets and hair accessories, my mother was talking to one of the clerks. I rejoined her after a couple of minutes and asked her if she was ready to go. Before she could answer, she asked me if I preferred gold jewelry or silver jewelry.

“I never really thought about it that much mom, but I think I lean a little more towards silver. Gold is nice, but I think I like the way silver glistens. ”

“That is what I thought you would say. Have a seat here dear.” The clerk picked up the silver studs on the counter in front of my mother.” This will only take a minute.”

“Studs! I can’t get my ears pierced. That is so permanent and people will notice.”

“If you wear nice earrings, hopefully they will. If you stop wearing earrings the holes will fill in naturally. It is not permanent. Lots of boys have pierced ears, and beside your hair is so long, I really doubt anyone would notice. Even if they do, it is fashionable. You’ve come so far already that I don’t want to hear another word.”

“Is this going to hurt a lot?”

The store clerk interjected, “It will only feel like a pinch and would be over very quickly.”

Before I had a chance to fathom my predicament, I was adorned with two silver studs. As we made our way out of the store I couldn’t help but feel this was one of our planned stops for the evening. We worked our way out to the car to end our girl’s night out.

On our way home my mother boasted, “I told you no one would think you were anything but my daughter. You did wonderfully and I hope you had a nice evening.”

“Some of it was fun, but you have taken this so far so fast that it is getting me scared and confused.”

“I’m trying to give you confidence. If you are more convincing, then you will be less nervous and enjoy the experience a lot more. You seem to be adjusting to being Claire with very little difficulty.”

“It scares me that I am so convincing as Claire. As Clarence, nobody really noticed me. Now dressed as Claire, I am drawing attention to myself without even trying.”

“Just relax we will figure it out together. Try and think like Claire and not so much like Clarence. If you do that it will not be so confusing.”

I put away my new apparel and laid my cosmetics on top of the vanity that had recently replaced the desk in my room. As I was getting ready to turn in for the evening, my mother brought a jewelry box into my room, which was full of a dozen or more sets of earrings. “I was waiting to give these to you as soon as you had your ears pierced. For the next couple of days at a minimum, you need to keep the studs in your ears. Soon enough, you can select from these to match whatever you are wearing. There are probably at least two or three pairs that are basic enough that you could get away with wearing at school. That will be up to you, but at least the option is there.”

I looked into the box with both an appreciation and a slight feeling of distress. I thanked her for the gift and put it on top of my dresser. My mother then showed me how to correctly remove my makeup. Finally I got ready for bed and curled up under my blankets and passed out.

------------------------------------

I WOULD REALLY APPRECIATE ALL FEEDBACK--- MY STORIES ARE PURE FICTION, BUT ARE BASED UPON ACTUAL EVENTS IN MY FANTASIES….

THE PROM STATEMENT: Chapter 4
By
Nina Adams

In the heat of debate, Clarence makes a Prom
Statement that would change his life forever.

In this chapter Claire experiences the full effect of preparations and the process begins to have a profound impact on Claire’s psyche.

-------------------------------A Trip To The Salon----------------------

On Saturday morning, I came down to breakfast in my new pajamas.

“How is my sleepyhead? Are you well rested, because we have a big day ahead?”

“Is there any way I can talk you out of taking me to the salon today? Last night was just about as much as I can take and having my hair trimmed at a salon seems so over-the-top. With my new pierced ears, I’m afraid almost anything else will make me look like a sissy. Whatever Lulu does, could make me look too girlish.”
“Lulu knows the whole situation. No matter what she does, you will be able to adjust it for school. I am sure it will be more androgynous than feminine. She will probably just clean it up a little bit and give it some body. Don’t worry, I will remind her of what you need.”

“Can I wear a pair of my old clothes so she knows I need to be able to look like a boy?”

“Honey we made a deal last night. I am adding $50 to your summer funds and today you promised to wear dresses or skirts all day long.”

“I didn’t think you meant to the salon! I can’t believe you want me to go to the salon dressed like a girl. I didn’t think that was part of the deal.”

“I said all day and you agreed to it. You will feel much more comfortable getting pampered there dressed like all the other patrons, rather than some out of place boy. You will draw much less attention to yourself if you are dressed appropriately.”

“Lulu is probably going to laugh at me.”

“I will help you get ready so you look just as nice as last night. We will pick out something that makes you look very pretty, and I will help you get your makeup just right. We need to get started soon so we can get there by your 10 AM manicure appointment.”

When we left the house later that morning I was dressed in a very stylish short dress, along with tights and my tall boots. It was a very simple gray dress with short sleeves and was made of a cráªpe material. It was a casual look but with a stylish feel to it. With a touch of makeup on, I was pretty certain nobody would recognize that I was a boy. Hopefully my mother and Lulu would be the only ones who knew my secret.

When we entered Lulu’s Solon, mother asked me to sit down while she made arrangements. The woman behind the counter glanced at me a couple of times and I heard her say they would be ready for me shortly. Mother then told me that she would return later to get a manicure while I was getting my hair trimmed. She was going to run a few errands, but that they knew what I needed and they would take care of everything. This was the first time that I would be left alone dressed as a girl in a public place. I felt very vulnerable at that moment. It wasn’t long before they called me in to start my very first manicure and pedicure.

The pretty manicurist who only spoke a little English began with my hands. From what I could understand from my attempts to talk to her, I think she was originally from Thailand. I had never had a manicure before and did not realize how much was involved. There was not that much for them to cut off, but she made an effort to round off the tips. She trimmed the skin around my nails and pushed back my cuticles. She rubbed oil into my skin and even buffed my nails to make them very smooth. Before she was finished she painted a clear base polish on each of my nails. After the base coat, she took another clear looking polish and spread that on my nails. When I looked at that coat closely, I realized that it was clear with just a hint of pink. Not a significant amount of color, but I could tell that my nails look slightly rosier. She then painted an additional coat of a clear polish on top of the pink. My hands were then put under a dryer for a few minutes.

After about 5 minutes, the same young manicurist brought me over to a different chair and put my feet in a soaking bath. I then looked at my dry nails. My hands looked very beautiful, but they were no longer boys hands. The coloration was very mild, but the finish on my nails reflected a glossy sheen. All I could think was that no boy’s nails were never that shiny. My mother was nowhere to be seen, so I had no one to complain to. While she was working on my feet, I was thinking that at least no one would be able to see them. At school my shoes and socks stayed on my feet and I no longer had any required gym classes.

The process was very similar on my feet to what she did with my hands. When she felt she had sufficiently cleaned up my toenails and the skin around them, she once again began the three-step process of putting polish on my toenails. I really was not watching that closely until she was almost done. On my toes she had not put on the transparent pink, but rather, a true pink. There was no question that my toes were now a deep dark pink shade. Anyone looking at my feet would immediately be drawn to the polish. I kept reminding myself that no one would see my feet. They put a special pair of sandals on my feet with toes spreaders, to allow the polish to dry properly. It was while I was waiting for Lulu to get started on my hair, that my mother returned to the shop.

“Mom they put a color on my feet and hands!”

“They look perfect. Your hands were such a mess before, now you need to take care of them better. No biting of your nails and try not to do anything that might damage the finish.”

“But mom they are pink!”

“I picked out those colors and I think they are just precious. I wish I could have given you the bright pink for both your hands and feet, but unfortunately, I’m not sure you’re ready for that at school yet.”

“Yet! I’m not sure I can wear polish anywhere.”

“I think they’re almost ready for your haircut. I am going to have another quick word with Lulu before she gets started. I will remind her that anything she does needs to be flexible and appropriate for you at school. I told you she’s a magician and you will love it when she is done.”

The next thing I knew I was getting my hair washed by one of Lulu’s assistants. She didn’t say anything to me, but I loved the massage she gave to my scalp. It helped me relax and prepare myself for what was ahead. She dried my hair with a towel and led me over to Lulu’s styling chair.

I felt pretty calm as Lulu approached me from the side. At first I did not know it was Lulu, until she introduced herself. She was definitely not what I expected. My mother, who was in her early 40s, had been going to her for over 10 years. In my mind I had assumed that Lulu would’ve been much older. She was probably in her early to mid 30s, but looked younger. She was extremely attractive, but also had a classy style about her. She had a very unique Bob’s style haircut that sort of curled under more on the left side. She was still twice my age, but not too old that I didn’t think I could relate to her. She was very enthusiastic as she introduced herself to me.

“So you must be Claire. Your mother and I have been discussing your adventurous plans and I think this is a wonderful idea. She told me all about you and how well you have been coming along. From what I can see, she was absolutely right. I hope we can become friends, as I help you through your transformation. I really respect what you are doing and know how much courage it must take. She tells me that your aunt and cousin are also assisting you and providing some guidance. That instruction is going to be very important, because looking like a girl is going to be the easiest part for you.”

“I am sure you mean well, Lulu, but I don’t want to look too girlish when I leave your salon. My mother just wants me to feel more comfortable when I dress this way, but the reason for this unusual idea, is not for a long time. I need to be able to look like a boy when I go back to school.”

“Well then, I guess making you a bleach blonde is out of the question… Just kidding. I am going to give your hair some shape and a lot more body. I would like to bring out the chestnut color a little bit, but maybe I will leave that for a later appointment. The first thing I will need to do is trim a little here and there to give it the proper length to highlight your features. I will then give it a soft perm, which will provide some waviness, and create more volume on the sides. If you don’t want to wear it that way for school, you can always pull it back with a scrunchie and it will not look that much different than before.”

“As long as I can pull it back, I guess it is okay.”

“I am sure that you will really like it and I bet your boyfriend will love it.”

“I don’t have a boyfriend! It’s not like that.”

“Did I hear wrong? Your mother told me that you were doing this so you could go to the Prom with a boy named Max.”

“He’s not my boyfriend. He’s just my friend and we are doing this to make a statement.”

“He’s a boy and he’s taking you to the Prom. You can call him whatever you like, but I think it is very special. I also think it is great that you are making such an effort to look as pretty as you can for him.”

“I am not trying to make myself look as pretty as I can for him. This was my mother’s idea.”

“She did not tell me that she was forcing you to do this.”

“She’s not really forcing me, it was Max and my idea originally. She’s just guiding me.”

“That’s good to hear. So you and Max are going to the Prom, because you wanted to. I will do whatever I can so that your big night will be memorable. For now, I am just going to give you some casual styling. When the big day comes I can give you something a little fancier to suit the mood. Just sit back and relax, you can even close your eyes for a while if you like.”

Lulu began snipping away at my hair at a rapid pace. She was cutting so fast that I almost expected her scissors to overheat. The funny thing was that even with all of the snipping, there was very little hair that was being cut. It was mostly the tips, with a little more off in just a few spots. The actual cutting part of the appointment did not take that long. When she was finished cutting my hair it was still damp and she rolled most of it up onto curlers. They curlers were very large and I felt silly with them rolled up in my hair. She added some smelly chemicals to my hair and sat me under a dryer for a while.

It was around this time that my mother came over to see how I was doing. Lulu told her that I was very sweet and that she was enjoying styling my hair. Mother asked me how I was doing, and I told her okay considering the circumstances. She told me that after today I would feel so much more comfortable with my appearance.

When my hair was just about dry my mother and Lulu led me back to the chair. While I was sitting in the chair, Lulu prepared some sort of chemical and put it on thin strips of paper. Before I had a chance to ask what it was, they stuck the paper onto the edges of my eyebrows. A few seconds later, I felt a painful pulling on my forehead. They had waxed my eyebrows down to a thin arch. I was not told that they planned to do this and I was not happy about it. It was very painful and now my eyebrows looked too thin for a boy. I was now fearful that the earrings and thin eyebrows would be impossible to explain at school.

She plucked a couple of additional hairs that did not come out with the waxing. Lulu then began to undo the rollers and brush out my hair. My back was kept to the mirror until she had finished the job. When she nodded to my mother that she was finished, my mother took out a very small brush and painted a little highlighter onto my now thin eyebrows. It was then that they rotated the chair around so I could see my new look.

When I first saw myself, I could not believe my eyes. My hair cascaded down from the center of my head forming loopy curls to just above my shoulder level. As I turned my head I could feel the bounce in my new tresses. This look was 100% all girl and I looked quite stunning. With my new eyebrows and all of the other makeup I was wearing, the image was beyond astonishing. I felt overwhelmed by what I saw and did not know how to react. It was more than a little scary that I was the girl in the mirror, but I was also taken by how beautiful I had turned out. As a boy, I was very small and plain, but at this moment, I looked like a very desirable girl. I was at a loss for words and a little lightheaded.

My New Hairstyle

“Claire, you look so beautiful. Your aunt Sharon and cousin Rachel are going to be so excited when they see you. You’re going to have so much fun now that you look so perfect. I think we are all done here, so you should go and thank Lulu and give her this tip. I will go and make your next appointment. On the way home we can pick up a few groceries and the two of us can have a nice lunch discussing anything that’s on your mind.”

I felt so different as I left the salon than when I had entered. I now had hair, eyes, hands, and feet that looked so decidedly female. Dressed in my stylish gray outfit and the high-top boots, I no longer questioned how my appearance might be perceived. In such a short time I had changed so much. The physical changes were clearly affecting my psyche. I felt pretty and the feeling was very pleasant. My mother had succeeded in changing me in so many ways. The Prom was many weeks away, but in many ways they had already changed me into the girl they wanted me to be. I could not imagine how my image could be any more convincing than it was at this time.

After a quick stop at the grocery we made our way home and pulled into the driveway. The closer we got to home the more nervous I got that one of my friends or neighbors would recognize our car and see me sitting with my mother. It was nearly 2:30 in the afternoon when my mother and I sit down at the table to have a bite to eat. In all appearances we were mother and daughter. Mom asked me if I enjoy my new appearance and changes.

“I never thought I would feel or look this way. It all feels so strange and pleasant at the same time. I know I am a boy underneath all this, so I really should not like it. I never expected it to go this far.”

“Claire I see very little of that boy underneath. You need to let yourself start thinking like Claire and stop worrying about being a boy. You look so pretty, so just enjoy it a little bit.”

“Mom this all started because of something I said, but I can’t help thinking that you led me down this path. Is this what you wanted?”

“I’m not sure why I so strongly felt you should do this. When you made that first suggestion about going to the Prom, it just made me think about what would make you happy. I will always love you no matter how you want to live your life, but I thought this experience could be very enriching. You started it, and I gave you a great big push, and now its your turn again to find out where you want to end up.”

Before I had a chance to respond to her comment, there was a knocking at the front door, followed by the sound of it opening. “I know you’re home, I saw your car go by my house.”

I was frozen in my tracks. Max had just entered the house and would soon be entering the kitchen. We had been friends for so many years that he typically just knocked before he entered. I was cornered in the kitchen with no way to get out.

My mother looked at me and said, “Claire, now I think you’re ready to meet him.”

I stood up from the kitchen table, just as Max entered the room. I am not sure who was more shocked, Max or I. His jaw was agape and his eyes as big as grapefruits. I was unsure what to say to him, or how to cut the ice-cold chill, so I asked him, “Hey Max what’s up?”

“Hey Max, What’s up?”

Max looked me over from head to toe. He was clearly startled, but his puzzled look quickly turned to a big grin.

“Is that really you Clarence? What’s going on?”

My mother cut in, “That is not Clarence, it is Claire.”

“Okay Claire, why are you dressed like this?”

“You should know Max, we made that stupid prom deal and my mother is having me practice.”

“I just can’t get over how real you look. You look like a hot girl, and are so damn cute. I kind of figured you could pull this off, but I have to admit you even look better than I expected.”

“I wasn’t ready for you to see me like this. My mom, aunt, and cousin have been in a rush to get me ready. This is really the first time that I have looked so complete.”

“Well they did a really good job. If I didn’t know who you were, I would want to get your number.”

“You already have it and if I recall, you’re taking me to the prom. You can stop drooling and don’t get any funny ideas.”

“I just can’t get over it, you look so amazing.”

“What are you doing here anyway?”

“I’ve been trying to text you all day. We made plans to go to the movie tonight. You agreed to go to the eight o’clock Country Strong show, don’t you remember?”

“I completely forgot, and I did not have my phone with me when my mother and I were out. Sorry.”

“You were out looking like this? That is so cool.”

“My mom took me to get my haircut. I did not have much choice.”

“It looks nice.”

“As you can see, I won’t be able to go to the movie with you tonight. I promised my mother I would stay like this all day today, so I am just going to hang out here. If you behave, we can watch some TV or something here.”

Throughout the conversation my mother was pretending as if she was not listening to us. However, when I told him that I could not go out, she chose to interject.

“Claire, I think it would be wonderful if you and Max went to the movie. You need the experience and Max is going to be your date for the Prom. You need to practice being in the presence of a boy and Max is the perfect one to take you out. As part of the pledge, he’s required to do whatever is necessary, to get you two ready for the big night.”

“I can’t go with him, we would run into lots of our friends at the movie theater. There is no way, I can do that.”

“I’m not good enough for you, Claire?”

“Max you know what I mean. I don’t want anyone to see us together. I would never be able to go back to school.”

“I guess it would be kind of bizarre if we ran into some of our friends. But I think it would’ve been fun otherwise.”

“It almost sounds like you really want to go out with me. You’re starting to scare me.”

“What’s the big deal? We are going to do this eventually anyway, and don’t you trust me?”

“It’s just so hard for me to accept all this. But for tonight it really doesn’t matter, since we're not heading over to the theater together.”

My mother just wouldn’t let it lay. “I could drive you to up to Northbrook Court and you could see the movie there. None of your friends would go all the way up there, so it would be just the two of you. You could even have a bite to eat at Stir Crazy or one of the other restaurants at the mall. It would be fun.”

“Your Mom’s got a great idea, come on, Claire let’s do it. I’ll even buy your movie ticket, like on a real date.”

“I don’t know, I’m not sure this is such a good idea.”

“Honey, I think you should do it. You look so nice today, so it would be a shame if you spent the evening here at home.”

“I really did want to see the movie. I guess I’ll do it, but, Max you have to promise to help me. I don’t want to embarrass myself or have anyone else embarrass me. You promise to be on your best behavior?”

“Yes, Claire, I promise to treat you very nicely. Let’s go there at about six, so we have time to eat and maybe hang out at the mall a little bit.”

“I will drive you two and you can call me when the movie is over.”

“Max, I will see you later, I need a some alone time, this day has already taken a lot out of me. We will pick you up later and don’t dress like a slob.”

“I will try and look nice for you and hopefully you will do the same for me. Claire, I look forward to seeing you later.”

-------------------------Off to the Movies-----------------------

I couldn’t believe I was actually going out to a movie with Max, dressed as his date. He was my good friend, but now we were going to hang out as a boy and a girl. I was not certain how I should act in his presence, especially out in public. My mother told me that the only way to do it, was to try and think like a girl. “Let Max hold the doors and have him act like a gentleman.” If I tied to act like my old self it would look strange. It was important for me to try and act or behave as much like a girl as possible. I knew she was right, but it was still tough for me to accept.

I rested up in my room for a while, before I got ready for dinner and the movie. My mother insisted that I change into a different dress that she thought would be appropriate for a first date. I did not get her logic, but at this point, a dress was a dress to me. She picked out a wrap around dress with three-quarter length sleeves, which had a hem that was a little bit longer than the one I had worn during the day. Instead of my high-top boots, she suggested I wear my strap heels. The heels were about the same height as on my boots, but they were much narrower and I found them challenging to keep my balance on.

Dressed for First Date

I felt very vulnerable as I prepared to leave and pick up Max. I knew I looked nice, but I lacked experience in the dating world. It wasn’t like Max and I were a true date, but I had very little experience on regular dates. I had only gone out with a few girls and never really had a regular girlfriend. If we were going to pretend to be out together, I had very little experience to base it on. I just figured, I would stay near Max, so I wouldn’t have to interact with many other people.

When we got to Max’s house I phoned him so that I would not have to get out of car. When he answered, he insisted that I come in to say hello to his mother. She knew what was going on and told Max that she wanted to meet Claire, before we would be seen out in public. I think she was concerned that we might draw some inappropriate attention to ourselves. As much as I did not want to go in, I dashed inside the house to meet Mrs. Rosen. My mother followed behind.

Mrs. Rosen had me take off my coat to provide for her the full effect. She told me that I look absolutely lovely and that Max was right, that I made a very convincing young lady. To my embarrassment, she told Max to be appropriate with me. She pointed out that I had very little experience with men on dates and that he needed to treat me with respect. She said, “this is a first date, so don’t get too frisky.” I was a little concerned by what she meant with her last comment.

Our mothers, both made comments about how cute a couple we made. I just wanted to get out of there and get to the movie. As we were leaving the house Max reached out and grabbed my hand. I wanted to pull away, but I figured, that holding hands would be normal for a boy and girl our age, out on a date. I almost didn’t realize it until we arrived at Northbrook Court, that Max had held my hand all the way there in the car.

We put our name in at the restaurant and they told us there would be a wait of approximately 15 minutes. We walked out into the hallway to kill some time. We were strolling along hand-in-hand glancing into some of the nearby shops. They gave us one of those electric pagers to let us know when our table was ready. Max did not seem the least uncomfortable holding onto his best friend's hand. It was almost as if, I was a new person and he was trying to impress me.

We did not talk about our usual subjects. He was more curious about how I was feeling and if I liked my new self. His curiosity seemed very genuine and there was no negativism in his questioning. He told me that I came across as quite natural. I took that as a compliment.

I told him that it felt nice in a strange way to know that I made a reasonably attractive girl. “I never drew much attention as a boy, and it was kind of fun to know that I could draw some attention as a girl.”

He looked at me, and was very sincere, when he told me I had his attention. Almost instinctively, I tilted my head a little and smiled. The pager went off, interrupting our slightly flirtatious conversation.

During our meal, I told him about all of my experiences this past week, including Friday night at the mall and my salon appointment. He enjoyed hearing all of the details and said all of the effort was worth it. He said he couldn’t wait to take me to the Prom. I was not so sure, but I played along with him.

When our meal was over we strolled over to the movie theater and found a couple of seats near the rear. We sat through six previews before our movie began. Just before the start of the feature film, Max put his arm around my shoulder. I gave him a surprised look, but did not make him pull it back.

The movie was just okay, but we enjoyed the singing. Parts of the movie were depressing. I had a hard time paying close attention to the plot as my mind kept wandering to Max’s arm on my shoulder. It felt very reassuring, but I kept reminding myself that I was a boy and so is Max. My mother had told me to let my feelings go and try and think like Claire, but it was still very hard for me to get out of my mind that I was a boy. I could tell that each time Max glanced over in my direction, he was not thinking of me as a boy.

When the movie was over we both needed to use the bathroom. I almost walked into the men’s room with Max without thinking. Max stopped me and turned me towards the ladies room. It was my first time that I had ever been inside of a girl’s bathroom. I had to wait for a toilet, which took longer than it usually would have in the men’s room. Before I returned, I freshened my lipstick and fluffed my hair. I guess I was becoming a little more vain.

Max wasted no time in reaching for my hand. His grip seemed firmer than before and there was a little more swing in his arm. We took our time walking out into the center of the mall. Max asked me if I wanted anything from the Starbucks and mentioned that his mouth was so dry. We each ordered an iced passion tea and we both giggled about that when we told the order taker. We sipped half our tea before we decided to call my mother to pick us up. We had actually had a fun night and even though it was late, we were not in a hurry to get home.

It would take about 20 minutes for my mother to arrive so we finished our tea and slowly made our way to the exit. We waited in the vestibule looking out for my mother’s car. It was a little chilly in there and I told Max that I was cold. He looked at me and told me that my presence was keeping him warm. I did another one of those silly little head tilts when he leaned over and kissed me squarely on the lips. I did not move and I looked up into his eyes. I think he took my silence as a sign of my approval. This time he kissed me again as he pulled me tight against his body. Unlike the first kiss, this time I was kissing him back. I felt myself getting aroused and didn’t want him to stop. I could not remember ever kissing a girl like that.

We were holding both hands looking at each other, when I heard my mother honk. I was hopeful that she had not been there when we were kissing, but the closeness of our proximity was certain to put some thoughts in her head. She asked us how we enjoyed the movie and we told her we had fun, but thought the movie was just so-so. As we had on the way to the movie, Max held my hand all the way home.

When we got to his house, I thanked him for a nice evening and good conversation. We smiled at each other as he left the car and headed up to his front door. As soon as he entered his house, my mother turned to me and asked me how my first date went. I told her it went better than I expected and that nobody suspected me.

“How are things between you and Max? Was he a gentleman? Did he treat you like a proper girl?”

“Yes mother to all those questions. He was very nice and treated me just like I was a real girl.”

“I saw you to holding hands while you were waiting for me. Was that all you were doing?”

“Mom! We were holding hands so we would look like we were on a date. I told you he was a gentleman.”

“Okay okay, did the two of you set a second date?”

“No mom, but maybe we will do it again.”

“Well as soon as we get home you should probably head off to bed. Your cousin and aunt Sharon are coming over for brunch to see your new hairstyle and the rest of your changes.”

“Tomorrow can I wear some pants? I wore skirts all day today and even real girls don’t do that all the time. I will dress nicely, but I would like to be a little more casual.”

“Claire, you can wear whatever you think is appropriate. I will not always be there to help you pick and choose.”

It was an amazing evening that had changed me in so many ways. I had been enjoying many of the new experiences thrown at me by my mother, but for the first time I began to wonder what I really wanted. As much as I enjoyed my interlude with Max, I was still confused by my emotions. Monday I would be going back to my old self at school, which at this moment hardly resembled the way I looked or felt. For a brief time, I really wished I had been a real girl. I was suddenly in near tears by the emotional roller coaster that I was feeling inside. Did I really prefer being a girl, or did my makeover, and the circumstances just emotionally carry me away? I don’t remember ever questioning my sexuality before and now I felt very unsure. The confusion reached an emotional crescendo shortly before I fell asleep.

To be continued…..

I WOULD REALLY APPRECIATE ALL FEEDBACK--- MY STORIES ARE PURE FICTION, BUT ARE BASED UPON ACTUAL EVENTS IN MY FANTASIES….

THE PROM STATEMENT: Chapter 5
By
Nina Adams

In the heat of debate, Clarence makes a Prom
Statement that would change his life forever.

Chapter 5 of 7:

---------------Help With Feeling More Like a Girl--------------

I was amazed the next morning to see how well my hair had held up to a restless night sleep. With just a few strokes of my brush, my hair regained its bouncy fullness. Liking my reflection, I did my best to try and outline my eyes. It looked so bad that I just washed it all off. I was frustrated that I did not know how to do something as simple as outlining my eyes. Because of my frustration, I decided to dress in just jeans and a red sweater. I still looked very feminine, because of my body shaping and new hair styling, but I decided not to dress more fashionably.

I worked on my chorus solo alone in my room. As I practiced the lyrics, I kept imagining myself up on the stage singing the song as a girl. I was fantasizing about becoming some sort of female pop star or contestant on American Idol. I always enjoyed singing, but until I had my new attractive female persona, I never really thought that much about pretending to be famous. I was being drawn further and further into the illusion.

I practiced for about a half-hour and memorized the lyrics. I think the my current rendition of the song would have looked and sounded girlish, even if I had not been dressed as I was. I knew that for the actual show, which was almost 10 days away, I would have to tone down some of my body movements, and voice inflections.

I joined my mother downstairs for some tea before our guests were to arrive. She said I looked nice, but I could tell she was disappointed in my choice of apparel. Her enthusiasm for showing me off to our guests, with all of my recent changes, outweighed any minor disappointment in clothing selection. She told me Rachel was particularly interested in seeing me and sharing in some girl talk.

When they made their way into the house, they quickly cornered me in the kitchen. They expounded about how much better I looked and that I was becoming so completely natural. Rachel was first to comment about my new earring studs and my delicate eyebrows. Aunt Sharon pointed out how professionally Lulu had restyled my hair and that she had given me a very sweet and attractive appearance.

“You are going to have a hard time keeping the boys away from your lovely daughter Sarah. She is going to be a real heartbreaker.”

“Sharon, I think she is already taken. You should’ve seen how she had her friend Max mesmerized on their date last night. It was so cute.”

“Mom, he’s my best friend. That’s it.”

“If you say so Claire. You looked so beautiful last night in your lovely dress and with your new makeup.”

“I wish I could’ve seen you. It must’ve been precious.” Rachel added.

“Please stop. You are all making me feel stupid. I am being a good sport and you don’t have to make me squirm. I’m cooperating, but don’t make it more than it is.”

“Okay Claire, but your Aunt and Rachel are just excited to see how you’re coming along. They’re not trying to be mean, they are saying these things out of love. Please cut them some slack.”

“I’m sorry, this is still hard for me. Can we just have some brunch?”

With that we ate. I really did not eat much as my appetite had been shrinking with all of the corset wearing, and recent emotional anxiety. The conversation became only slightly more muted, and it still mostly revolved around me.

My Aunt informed me, that the following Saturday, I would be coming down to the bridal boutique with her and Rachel. Rachel worked at the boutique part time, and was planning to go off to design school in the fall. She worked at the boutique to make a few extra dollars and to learn about dress design and fashion. On Saturdays, she normally worked there from 10 AM until 4 PM. My Aunt Sharon planned for me to spend that entire time there getting more familiar with fancy ball gowns, and so I could try on a few Prom alternatives.

I was no longer panicked about being out in public as Claire, and only expressed a mild resistance to spending so much time at such a sacred bastion for women. I knew I would not see any of my guy friends there, and odds of seeing female classmates at a bridal boutique 15 miles away, was pretty slim. When she talked about me trying out alternatives, I could not get out of my mind the vision of Rachel in her heavenly dress. After finishing brunch, Rachel and I were excused so that we could have some one-on-one time.

“Claire, your Mom and Aunt want me to help you with your makeup. Before I leave today, you’re supposed to understand at least the basics of what to wear and how to apply it. Most girls your age already know most of this, so you have some catching up to do. I’m not too worried, because you seem to be catching up on everything else so quickly.”

I blushed at her last statement. “I’m just trying to do what you all want, that’s all.”

“I think we all want the same thing, and it is obvious in your progress.”

“I tried putting on some makeup this morning and failed miserably. I looked like the bride of Frankenstein.”

“That’s a good sign. At least you were the bride!”

We both laughed a bit at the joke and it certainly broke any tension left in the room.

Over the next hour and a half she showed me how to apply all of my different makeup and some tricks for special effects. She would apply one side of my face and have me do the other. I was not sure I was absorbing it all, but I was learning quite a lot. By the time we were done I knew I could do a reasonable job of making myself presentable. I felt pretty good about my new skills, even though I wasn’t sure I really needed to be an expert on all of this.

Rachel seemed to enjoy our time together. She did not have a sister and I think it was fun for her to pass on some of her considerable skills. She treated me entirely like a girl, as if my boy side never had existed. I played along since we were having such a nice time together. The only time I ever got defensive or close lipped was when she started inquiring about Max, and when she was joking about boys. She would talk about them like I had never been one, or like they were the opposite sex.
___________
“My mother bought you these special devices for school to help you adjust to your back-and-forth routine.”

With that comment Rachel pulled out of her purse two black strap-like items, that she informed me were gaffes. “These will hold your boy parts between your legs and give you a smooth look in front no matter what you are wearing. You tuck your thing in between your legs into the natural cavity and put this over at. It’s kind of like your padded brief, but without the padding. You should wear this under your school clothes.”

“You want me to be flat in front at school?”

“Do you get checked out a lot down there? Only you will know and that’s the point. You can wear some pretty panties over them and it will make you feel more secure.”

“At school I am a guy, this is crossing the line.”

“I’m not telling you to wear a skirt. Remember we’re trying to help you adjust and you need to cooperate.”

I took the gaffes and said I would try one later. We then finished up on my cosmetic lessons. After I had done a complete makeup job on myself that she was satisfied with, she convinced me to change into something with more style to go down and show our parents. Standing in front of Rachel decked out in a sexy short dress, jewelry, and makeup; I was almost able to forget I was ever male.

“It’s just not right that you look so fabulous and you’ve only been a girl for a matter of days. Just think of all the time you wasted in the past.”

“You say that like I’m going to stay like this. I am doing this for the Prom, so I can make my statement.”

“Do you still remember what your statement or point was? Stop kidding yourself, you like this, and wanted it. When you go to the Prom it will be to express your right to go as a girl. You will be fighting for yourself and not just a cause.”

She had me so confused, and I wasn’t sure how to respond to her statement. Part of me, maybe a very large part of me, was enjoying the pampering and attention I was getting. When I was dressed this way, I was starting to like it, but it was still a tug-of-war with the person I grew up as.

I did my little fashion show for our parents and they complimented me on my new look and makeup. My Aunt said that she could not wait to dress me up at the boutique. “You are going to have the greatest time trying on all the gorgeous gowns. You are going to look like royalty.”

I was beginning to think she was right. I would have been lying if I weren’t curious to see how I might look in a formal dress.

“This time of year is our busiest season with all of the summer weddings and spring Proms. If you like it there, I may be able to give you a part-time job at the boutique at least until the summer peak season is over. Your mother says you are trying to save some money and I could probably use some extra help.“

The weekend had been a whirlwind. I had taken the dressing to a whole new level. I’d gone out on a date with my best friend and we had kissed each other like star-crossed lovers. I ended the weekend looking and acting like I had been a girl all of my life. It had been the most unusual weekend of my life, but as I got ready for bed I started to get spontaneously emotional again.

I am not sure what set it off, but I found myself crying as I was changing for bed. I rarely cried before, but I was crying and not even knowing why.

My mother heard me in my room and came in to see what was wrong. She held me and I just started crying even more. After a few minutes, I settle down and tried to discuss with her what was bothering me. I was not completely sure, but I knew that the internal struggle I was feeling was starting to overwhelm me.

“Mom, I am getting even more confused by how I feel. Part of me really likes being Claire and part of me keeps telling me it is wrong. With each day I get more comfortable, but I just can’t get over the conflict. I know I’m a boy and it is hard to drive that out of my mind, even when I am fully dressed as Claire.”

“I understand it must be hard, but honey you seem so much more confident and happy when I see you strutting around as my lovely daughter. Am I wrong?”

“No Mom, it’s just that I wish I could stop having all of those boy thoughts when I am like this. It’s okay at school, but the rest of the time it just makes it so hard. I don’t know if I can put those thoughts out of my head. It’s just the way I am wired.”

“I think you have done wonderfully so far. You are already more like a girl at this point than I expected. I think you wanted this more than you originally let on.”

“Maybe, but I don’t think I realized it back then. Now I think I am enjoying it, but I just can’t fully let myself go.”

“If I could help you with your conflicted wiring would you want those boy feelings to go away for a while?”

“Huh, I don’t follow you. I still have boy urges that pop-up at times when I wish they wouldn’t. I don’t see how you can help me with those urges”

“It’s your boy hormones. You may feel happier as Claire, but your hormones are making you feel mixed up. I have been reluctant to help you with that to this point, but maybe we should discuss it.”

“What do you mean? You can’t change who I really am.”

“I think we are still in the process of discovering who you really are, but there are some things we can do to help with those internal feelings.”

“Like what?”

“I can give you special supplements from the hospital that will affect your urges. There are blockers that reduce your macho feelings, and other drugs that help enhance your female ones. They basically turned around your hormone flow.”

“That sounds pretty radical.”

“It is a significant step in your transition. It doesn’t work overnight and I’m reluctant to go this route unless you want to feel completely like a real girl. Your Aunt suggested this at the beginning, but I first wanted to make sure this is something you really wanted.”

“There is still a lot of time between now and the Prom. If I’m going to be spending most of my free time as Claire, I think a pill might be worth it.”

“It’s more than that. They usually only allow boys to take these supplements if they plan to be girls full-time. There can be some side effects and if you stay on them too long, some of the changes might not go away.”

“What kind of side effects?”

“In addition to the psychological changes, it will cause some physical changes if you stay on them long enough. You will probably gain some weight in the girly areas. If you stay on them long enough, it can have the opposite effect on some of your male areas, including muscle mass.”

“I hardly have any muscle mass, but I can’t show up at school with tits.”

“Breasts Claire! That takes time, but there could be a little swelling before too long. This is not like an aspirin, after only a few months the effects may become permanent.”

“The Prom is not that far in the future. I could stop then.”

“You could, but you might not want to.”

“I am enjoying this a lot more than I expected, but I bet by the time the Prom rolls around, I will be anxious to go back to being Clarence.”

“Don’t be so sure. I hardly see any of Clarence left now. Max won’t want Claire to go away either.”

“I am not gay, Mom. I told you that before. It’s just that when I am dressed like this I just think I react a little differently.”

“I know you are not gay, not that there is anything wrong with that. Any feelings you may be having are in a way very traditional. If Claire was interested in another girl then you might call that gay.”

“This is getting too confusing and I am tired. Tomorrow Clarence has to go to school.”

“Good night dear.”

-------------------Change of Style for School------------------------

I woke up a few minutes earlier than usual on Monday to get ready for school. With all the changes that had occurred over the weekend, I wanted to make sure I was presentable for school. I did not want to show up and appear dramatically different than on Friday. Max might look at me differently, but I did not want other friends to think I had gone weird.

I selected some of my more gender-neutral clothes to wear over my gaffe. It took me a while to figure out how to put the gaffe on. I laid on my bed and tucked my penis as far back as I could. I was even able to push my testicles sacs into the natural cavity between my legs. I pulled the gaffe up and it securely held everything in place. I slid a pair of panties over the top and got up off the bed. When I looked at myself in the mirror, I felt a chill come over me. My lower body took on a very feminine shape. I pulled my tight black jeans up my legs and the illusion was still obvious to me. My crotch was flat and the pants fit my groin area like a glove.

I put on a green oversize sweater that helped cover my reshaped triangle, and it somewhat relieved my concerns. I put on my Dansko clogs and walked over to my vanity to work on my hair. Walking in the gaffe was more difficult. I had to adjust my stride down, which even further accentuated my more feminine mannerisms. I stared at my image in the vanity and played with my hair until I was satisfied. I needed to securely fasten a band over my ponytail so that my new hairstyle would not draw attention. Unfortunately, in drawing back my hair, there was no way to cover my thinned eyebrows or pierced ears. I also hoped no one would notice my glossy polished nails. I would try and pass off my changes as an attempt to just being more fashionable or edgy looking. I just kept telling myself that I was invisible to the student population anyway.

My mom dropped me at school and I quickly slipped into the throng of students. I felt very conspicuous and throughout the day I was constantly aware of my appearance. At chorus practice I did get a few comments about my ears and also a couple of comments about how I had been dressing more stylishly. At least nobody said I look like a sissy or bizarre.

At chorus I had my first follow-up chat with Max. He started our conversation by calling me Claire and telling me I look nice. Fortunately no one was in earshot and could hear his comment or see my embarrassment.

“Don’t call me that here. I am trying to survive this whole thing and you are supposed to support me.”

“Sorry, but I couldn’t resist. I was anxious to see you today and see how far you might go. All weekend I could not get your image out of my head.”

“You’re just so horny. Remember this is just a costume.”

“Get real. I am not sure what it is, but I know you felt the same thing I did Saturday night. Tell me I am wrong.”

“I felt something too, but we just got carried away with this Prom thing.”

“I am ready to get carried away again. How about Friday?”

“Let me think about it; I am doing my best to not freak out. My mom and I talked last night about how far this has gone and how I can try and get through it. I had fun Saturday, but I will let you know later.”

“Fair enough, but I really want to see my hot girlfriend again soon.”

I just walked away after his last statement.

It took me until Wednesday at school to get over my paranoia that everyone was staring at me. We had a full rehearsal for the chorus concert, which would be the following Wednesday evening. I thought I sang my part pretty well, and received some good-natured slaps on the back. Ms. Angela the chorus director gave me a slightly perplexed look when I finished my rendition. She commented that I sounded great, but added that I’d gotten much more dramatic. I wasn’t sure what she meant by that, but she didn’t tell me to change anything.

Later that evening after dinner my mother sat down with me in front of the fireplace. “Claire, I have been thinking about our previous discussion about feeling more completely like a girl. Is that something you still want?”

“Yes. I wish I didn’t have the internal tug-of-war, especially when I am dressed as Claire. I feel like two people.”

“So is Claire the one person you want to feel like?”

“I am spending most of my time dressed as Claire, so I guess my answer would have to be yes.”

“I brought home the supplements from the hospital that we discussed. I had one of my doctor friends prescribe them for you. I had to discuss your desires with him and he wrote up the scripts on the condition that you would make an appointment to see a specialist sometime soon.”

“What did you tell him about my situation?”

“Only the truth Claire. I told him that you were spending most of your time as a girl and that you wanted to feel more complete. He said you would need to follow-up with him or the appropriate medical counselors. He agreed to the meds now, because he said the earlier you start with them, the better the long-term effects.”

“It will be so embarrassing talking to a stranger about this. Do I have to?”

“At some point you will, that is, if you really want to take these drugs.”

“If I thought I could make it to the Prom without them, I would probably skip them. I really want to be able to feel more like a girl, since I’m spending so much time this way.”

“Last chance to skip them!”

“I’m all in Mom. Give me the pills.”

“Claire, pull down your hip pads.”

“Why?”

“The first supplements are shots. These are more effective and last longer. Each day you will take two sets of pills and I will give you a supplement shot periodically.”

“Wow, that sounds so intense.”

“It’s not easy to be beautiful.”

As the warm fluid entered my bloodstream by mother said, “Goodbye Clarence, hello Claire.”

“That wasn’t so bad.”

“You may feel a little nauseous in the morning for a few days, but it will go away. It will probably take a few days before you notice any of the positive effects.”

“Thanks Mom. This will make the next few weeks so much easier for me.”

The next morning she was so right. I threw up twice before my stomach settled down. It took until about 9:30 AM before I felt better. When I finally showed up at school with a note indicating that I was out for a doctor appointment, I almost had to laugh. Who would believe that I was experiencing nausea from taking female hormones?

The step I had taken was a major one. Allowing myself to take medication that could have lasting impact on me was probably foolish. All I knew was that I have been growing to like my new persona with each day and that I wanted to feel as perfect as possible for the remaining time I had as Claire. I knew the whole experience would have a profound impact on me, and that it would probably last well beyond the Prom.

My high school career had previously been nondescript, but now, it was probably going to be defined by the splash I made in my last semester. With this knowledge settling in, I was coming to realize that how I dressed and behaved at school should not matter. I did not want to be thought of as weird, but I had my right to be expressive or intentionally more androgynous. The thought of coming out of my invisible shell was kind of liberating. So far my gender bending clothing styles had not drawn that much attention, so my courage to dressing more stylishly was building.

Thursday at chorus I told Max that getting together Friday night would be fun. He was quick to make certain it would be with Claire. “That’s great. I got my Mom’s car for Friday, so if you are more comfortable, we can go back up to Northbrook or Highland Park and see the Hall Pass or The Adjustment Bureau.”

“I would like that. Maybe we can have some more “Passion Tea” after the show.” With that we smiled at each other. There was a not-so-subtle undertone to our discussion of getting together again.

After classes we walked home from school together. I couldn’t help but feel different walking home with him, than during the dozens of times before when we had walked home. There was no handholding, but about halfway home I took the band off my ponytail and shook my hair so that it resumed its fullness. I think I was less surprised by my boldness than Max was. He looked around a little, before he told me how much prettier that made me look.

When we got to my house, I know he wanted to kiss me again. I just looked into his eyes. “Don’t worry, Claire will be back tomorrow.”

I quickly shot into the house and up to my room. I changed into a teal baby doll styled dress, with some dark purple tights underneath. I worked on my makeup until I felt satisfied that I looked like a typical high school senior. Staring at myself in the vanity, I had an urge to go out again. It was enjoyable fixing myself up so perfectly, but I was slightly saddened that my evening would be spent at home.

My mother was very pleased with my appearance and over dinner sensed that I had gotten more comfortable with the concept of spending most of my time as Claire. She said my date with Max Friday night would be fine with her, but to remember Saturday I was working at the boutique.

I worked on my homework for about an hour after dinner. When I had finished, she asked if I wanted to go over to Aunt Sharon’s for some dessert. She said that Rachel would be there. I was anxious to get out and was kind of excited to show Rachel my makeup progress.

“Let’s go.”

At Aunt Sharon’s, I no longer felt like a guinea pig. I was just one of the girls. Aunt Sharon commented on my appearance, but not like before. Her positive tone no longer carried any caveat related to the fact that I was a boy. In her mind this was the real me.

Rachel was a little less subdued. She grabbed a hold of me and gave me one of those hugs that only girls do. She almost screamed with her approval of my appearance. She also wanted to know everything I was feeling and how far I had gone at school. I was nearly floored by one of her comments. “So I hear you have started transitioning.”

“What did mom tell you?”

“You started your Hormone Replacement Therapy, so you could be a real girl. I heard right, didn’t I?”

“Well I am taking the hormones, but I just want to feel more authentic for the Prom.”

“Authentic? That’s a good one. It won’t be by the Prom, but soon enough you will be as authentic as me.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Like what? You already have a boyfriend, you are going to the Prom, and you look like a knockout. You are now on HRT, girl it doesn’t get any more real than that.”

What she said was all-true. I just never really fully accepted it until I heard her blunt statement. I began to get tearful again. Rachel held me as I released my stream of tears.

“I like being Claire, I just never expected this. Why is this all happening to me?”

“Don’t fight it. You are more a girl now than you ever were a boy before. You may not realize it, but until these past few weeks you never seemed that happy. Now you are coming out of your shell and experiencing life all over again.”

“It’s just not normal.”

“Don’t start that. We’re just helping you match up your appearance with the girl inside. It may take more time, but eventually you will fully understand that.”

“I’m still a boy to virtually all of my friends and to everybody at school. They will all laugh at me. I’ll never be able to tell them how I feel.”

“It will not always be that way, but your real friends will accept you. Some may already suspect something. High school will be over before you know it, and a whole new life awaits you after that.”

“I think you are right, but for now I just want to get through the next few months.”

“Agreed. Tell me about your boyfriend…”

I felt better after spilling my emotions with Rachel, and admitting that this may be more than just a phase. I really wished it were summer so I would not have to keep switching my appearance.

If there had been any doubt in my mind about what I wanted, it was erased during my date on Friday night. I dressed myself up as attractively as I could without looking overdressed. I wore a little extra makeup to look as seductive as possible. I wanted to feel as totally feminine as possible. The look in Max’s eyes when he saw me, confirmed to me that I had achieved the desired results.

Before we even had a chance to exit his car at the theater, we had resumed our necking episode. It didn’t change much during the movie as we spent much of the time interlocked together. I think I was acting extra vampy to expunge my thoughts of my birth gender. Max was just being the same horny Max that I always knew; only now I was the apple of his eye that was turning him on. By the end of the evening and I had spent more time kissing him than I had spent kissing over the rest of my life combined. I could no longer explain my passion by getting carried away in an emotional moment. It was something I really enjoyed.

Max gave to me his silver pinky ring at the end of the night to signify that we were going steady. I told him that I would wear it whenever I could and I would put it on a chain and wear it under my blouse at school. It was the first time I had ever gone steady with anyone.

To be continued…

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I WOULD REALLY APPRECIATE ALL FEEDBACK--- MY STORIES ARE PURE FICTION, BUT ARE BASED UPON ACTUAL EVENTS IN MY FANTASIES….

THE PROM STATEMENT: Chapter 6
By
Nina Adams

In the heat of debate, Clarence makes a Prom
Statement that would change his life forever.

Part 6 of 7:

-------------My Day at David’s Bridal Boutique----------------

Saturday brought my first visit to David’s Bridal Boutique. My Aunt was co-manager and leading bridal consultant. She knew every style for brides and their bridesmaids. She had a reputation for knowing which styles would look good on virtually all figures. Rachel also had a good instinct for this, but was less knowledgeable about all the available alternatives.

I wore a bright white long sleeve satin top, which had a one-button clamp at the back of the neck. It was matched with a dark gray pencil skirt, sheer black nylons, and my strappy heels. I accessorized with petal earrings, and a delicate silver necklace. I wore Max’s ring on the middle finger of my left hand. It was still too big, but that finger was the only one that was even close to keeping it secure.

My look was both professional and very feminine. I knew I would be trying on dresses at the boutique, but I also wanted to look like I worked there, during the times I would be assisting Aunt Sharon and Rachel. My Aunt seemed pleased with my choice of clothes and said I look like a consultant in the making.

I was introduced to some of the other top consultants when we arrived. I think it was a bit of a game for them, but everyone made a guess as to my dress size and style preferences. They all seemed interested in seeing me model some of the dresses, including wedding gowns. Everyone was so friendly and I could tell they really respected my aunt.

I had never been inside of a wedding boutique before, and was surprised to see so many gowns on an almost endless quantity of clothing racks. A majority of the dresses were white, but there were many racks of colorful gowns and bridesmaid’s dresses. Aunt Sharon said that I would do my dress shopping near the end of the day after I had a chance to see customers modeling some of the alternatives. My job was to hang by her side and lend a hand or two when called on. It did not sound that difficult, but I managed to stay very busy while soaking in the experience.

As the day wore on I was getting anxious to see myself inside some of the dresses. I needed a dress suitable for the Prom, but I kept visualizing myself in some of the wedding dresses. In my mind wearing a gorgeous white wedding dress was the ultimate expression of being a woman. My Aunt caught me a couple of times staring longingly at some of the dresses. She even said after my second loss of concentration, that later I could model a couple of the wedding gowns if I still wanted to. I just smiled back at her.

Towards the end of the day the customer flow at the boutique began to slow down. There were still three groups trying on dresses, but my aunt finally had some time to talk with me and have me try on some dresses. She asked me how I visualize myself on the big day and if I had seen anything I particularly liked.

“Aunty, are you talking about the Prom or when I get married?”

She couldn’t stop herself from releasing a delightful little laugh. “I see you are already thinking ahead, and I think all girls should, but for now, I was asking about the Prom.”

“Sorry Aunt Sharon. I saw so many beautiful dresses that it was too hard to pick out just one.”

“Were there any styles that you especially liked?”

“This may sound silly, but I’ve never been able to get the image of Rachel on her Prom night out of my mind. I think it was the first time I remember wondering what it would be like to be so beautiful.”

“That’s a very good observation and a great place to start. Her dress was part of the Levkoff line. Those dresses were designed for bridesmaids, but they also work well for a Prom. I have always loved their simplicity and ability to bring out the sheer beauty in a woman. They are very sexy, but with classic style details. Rachel was also drawn to their dresses and had a hard time choosing from them. I bet we can find one of those dresses that will work well for you.”

“That sounds scrumptious, I’m in your hands.”

Over the next 45 minutes, I tried on seven dresses that my Aunt had picked out for me. Slipping into the dresses felt like heaven. Each one was more beautiful than the last and I felt like a princess each time I got to parade around in one. It was not just how they looked on me, but they also caressed my body and stimulated me. When I looked at myself in the mirror I knew I looked fabulous, but I wanted to pick the dress that flattered me the most. Everything had gone much further than just wearing a dress to the Prom; I now wanted to look as beautiful as any girl in attendance. With my Aunt and my family’s help, my dream may not be that far-fetched.

I narrowed down my choices to one of the long style dresses and one of the shorter models. I would’ve been happy in almost any of them, but I think the two, were my favorites. My Aunt said she would hold those two on the side, so that I could later do a fitting with my mother present. I was happy that I would get to put them on again sometime soon.

This was the long styled dress that I liked.

I thought we were done, when she said there was one more dress she wanted to see on me. She led me back to the changing room, which had a white wedding gown hanging on the rack. “Claire this one is just for you. I saw how you had been looking at this dress earlier, and I thought it would be fun to see how it might look on you. Frankly, I think it will look much better on you, than the bride who tried it on earlier.”

I was too excited to question her about trying on a wedding dress and quickly began to take off the bridesmaid dress that I was wearing. I needed help putting on the flowing gown and Rachel had to clip it up a bit in the back. It wasn’t enough that I was wearing this dress, but Rachel also put a small veil on my head. My sensations were in overdrive. I could almost sense what a real bride might be feeling on her wedding day. I took small steps and made my way out to the show room.

I was able to see myself from multiple angles in the full-length mirrors and preened for myself in a near state of ecstasy. It was all for fun, but for that moment, I wished it had been for real. Rachel took a couple of photographs, so she could show my mother later. She also thought I might like to have a copy for myself. I had a hard time denying my total and utter approval.

Relaxing in the Wedding dress my Aunt had me model for fun.

I was walking around the room transfixed on my image when I heard Rachel speaking with a familiar voice. Hearing that voice I came back to earth and turned to look at Rachel. She was speaking with my homeroom teacher, that Rachel also had as one of her teachers the previous year. Ms. Anderson was getting married in July and was in for an early fitting. I heard Rachel say that she worked at the boutique with her mother as preparation for going off to design school in the fall. Ms. Anderson, looked in my direction and without immediately recognizing me, commented how beautiful a bride I was.

“Thank you Ms. Anderson.” No sooner than those words came from my lips that my body went into panic mode. Why had I called her by her name?

“Your welcome. Do I know you? Were you one of my students?”

She walked over to me and gave me a much closer look. She still could not figure out who I was. “I am really sorry, but I cannot remember your name. You look very familiar and you don’t look like you have been out of high school very long. Please what is your name?”

I was at a loss for words and unable to speak. Rachel attempted to come to my rescue. “Oh this is my cousin Claire. She is not really getting married, but she just came in to look at Prom dresses and I talked her into trying on a wedding gown.”

“Don’t I also have one of your cousins in my homeroom class? That still does not explain how Claire knew my name.”

I could see the light go on inside of her head. She started to look at me a little more closely. Her expression went from curious to a slightly perplexed. “Clarence is that you?”

The next thing I knew, I was laying on one of the lounge sofas, with my feet elevated. Sitting across from me, was my Aunt, Rachel, and Ms. Anderson.

“Claire, you fainted. You are lucky that Rachel was able to catch you before you hit your head. One second, you were attempting to speak with Ms. Anderson and a moment later you were passed out on the floor.”

Ms. Anderson’s expression was now much more reassuring. “Your family has filled in some of the details and explained to me your intention of going to the Prom. I just can’t get over how pretty you look right now. Having seen your little fainting episode, I assume this cannot be that easy for you. I must say, you certainly make a very attractive young lady.

You know Claire, that sooner or later, I will not be the only one at the school that knows your secret. You should know that you are not the first boy at the school that has had gender issues and you might want to come in for some counseling. When you show up at the Prom, everyone will know, if they haven’t found out already by then.”

“I’m only dressing outside of school, so hopefully it won’t be an issue. I would appreciate if we can keep this between us.”

“I am sure we can do that for now, but I want you to come in periodically to see me, to make certain that everything is okay for you at school. If I sense a big problem, I may have to insist, that we bring in a professional guidance counselor.”

“Fair enough. Can you help me get up?”

“Sure Claire. I still can’t get over how stunning you look. You put the rest of us brides to shame.”

I was beginning to get color back in my face and her comments probably added a little blush to my cheeks as well.

The day had been absolutely amazing. The experience would have been fabulous for any girl, but for me it opened my eyes to a new higher level of femininity. Those who entered the boutique were all looking to make themselves as beautiful and sexy as they possibly could. For me to have that opportunity was an out of body experience and pretty much beyond belief. In only a blip in time, I had gone from an invisible boy to a want-to-be girl in a wedding dress. The truth was stranger than any possible fiction, and I was living it.

The three of us met up with my mother for an early dinner at Koi Japanese restaurant in Evanston. I told her all about my day, the dresses I tried on, and the whole scene of running into Ms. Anderson. She could tell that I had enjoyed my day and was not overly upset about running into someone I knew. She was concerned about me fainting, but thought that the medication may have contributed to my low blood pressure. I showed her the wedding dress picture on the digital camera screen, and I could tell that seeing me in a wedding dress was very emotional for her.

While we were eating dinner I became aware that some guys in the restaurant were scoping Rachel and me out. The first time that this happened to me, I was very uncomfortable. This time it felt more flattering and on a couple of occasions, I returned the gaze. Until this whole thing began, I don’t think I ever had an interest in men, but now it somehow felt strangely normal.

It had been a wonderful day and by the time we got home the adrenaline in my system was beginning to wear off. I was a little tired and I watched some TV in front of the fireplace. After channel surfing for a little while, I came upon a show called ”Say Yes To The dress”. It was all about brides looking for the perfect wedding dress. The show almost perfectly mirrored what I had seen on my first day at the boutique. It was nice to just kick back and watch it from a distance. I looked ahead on the television channel guide to see you when the additional episodes of the show might be on, and set the box to record them. I wanted to learn as much as I could so that I could be more helpful down the road.

Sunday was devoted to a lot of schoolwork and a few things around the house. On Wednesday we were having the big chorus concert and I had to get ahead on my homework, so that I would not be under pressure. Early in the afternoon, mom asked to see me in my room.

“What do you need mom?”

“I think we should make some more room in your closet.”

“It has gotten a little crowded in there with two sets of clothes. I could move some of my new things into the guest bedroom, if you think that would help.”

“I was actually thinking that we ought to give to Goodwill more of the clothing that you don’t really need any more. You have been wearing your new wardrobe almost exclusively, and I think it’s time, that we get rid of some of the things that you don’t need anymore. It will also help you with any of the remaining tug-of-war that might be going on in your head. We can keep a couple of things, but for the most part, I think the rest should go.”

“Can’t we just put those things into the guest bedroom. What if I want those back after the Prom. I really like the new me, but getting rid of those things seems so drastic.”

“Claire, by the time school is out, I really don’t see you ever going back to being Clarence. You are becoming completely feminine and you need to face that. There is enough androgynous apparel to get you through the rest of the year, until you can more fully express yourself. When the weather gets warmer, we will get you some appropriate summer clothes as well. It won’t be long before you feel wearing those old clothes is uncomfortable.”

“What if I change my mind about all of this? It could happen.”

“I really doubt that, and if it does, we will deal with it then.”

When we were finished there was almost nothing left of my former wardrobe, only a couple of T-shirts and one pair of jeans. While we were weaning my clothes, she told me that she would be redecorating my room over the next few days. She had a painter coming and had ordered me some new furniture. My room was getting a makeover just like I had received.

Come Monday, I had to go back to being Clarence. The weekend had been so much fun and now going back to my former self would be much harder. I had to dress down so that I would not look so feminine and I had to remember to tone down my recently developed mannerisms.

I pushed the envelope a little in selecting my clothes. I wore my boot cut designer jeans, and a black cowl neck sweater. It had very long sleeves that extended a little longer than typical sweaters. The sweater did not scream girl, but not many guys would be comfortable in that style. I wore my patent leather blue clogs, which were barely noticeable under the boot cut slacks. I really wanted to wear max’s ring, but I did not want to get him into trouble. I also wore my ponytail up just a little bit higher than usual and a little bit tighter. I certainly had achieved an androgynous look, and could probably be mistaken for a girl. It was acceptable attire, but just barely.

Underneath my clothing, I was wearing my thong again, but this time I added the waist cincher to give me a more defined waist. My fashion statement did not go completely unnoticed. A few of my friends asked me what was up. Nobody was real mean, but I did get some strange looks from good friends. It was pretty much what I expected and I was almost surprised that I did not get even more negative comments or looks. The only problem I had was that my breasts were very itchy underneath the sweater. I had been wearing a bra for the past few days and this was the first time that my chest was exposed to a shirt or sweater. By the end of the day, they felt pretty irritated.

I related my day to my mother over dinner including the discomfort I was experiencing around my nipples. I really did not notice any difference in them, but she thought the increased sensitivity, may be related to the hormones I was taking. She suggested that I wear a seamless bra under my clothing while at school. At a minimum, she suggested I wear a camisole that could provided some support. I was a little nervous about her suggestion, but at this point, nothing seemed out of the question. After dinner, we made a quick trip to Macy’s and bought me a couple of new bras and some additional camisoles. These bras were to be worn without my inserts. They were basically training bras, since I had very little to go inside of them at this point. They were barely noticeable underneath my top, so I thought I might be able to get away with them. I kind of liked the idea of wearing them, even when I was in boy mode.

Back at home, I finished up my homework and spent nearly 30 min. on the phone with Max. I did not completely fill him in on the extent of my changes and pending transition. I did let him know, that I was really enjoying being Claire, and would be spending as much time as possible exploring that part of me. He was very excited for me and not in the least surprised. We talked about the concert on Wednesday and he said, “It’s too bad you can’t wear a skirt and sing your part as Claire. Your part would be perfect for either a boy or girl to sing. You would be a real showstopper, if you could somehow do it as Claire.”

“I wish I could. Unfortunately, we both know that is not possible. At home, I have enjoyed singing my part even more, when I am dressed in something sexy. It would be fun, but Clarence will just have to fill in for me.”

“Too bad, I prefer to have Claire around.”

Tuesday and Wednesday at school were pretty much nonevents. I wore my new bra, which securely protected my sensitive nipples from the rubbing of my clothes. Just knowing that I was wearing a bra under my clothing, made me feel much more girlish even when I was trying to pass for a boy. The concert Wednesday was scheduled for 7 PM. I had to get there at six, along with all the other students who would be performing. Everyone wore a white top and either black slacks, or a black skirt. As much as I wanted to wear a skirt, I dressed in my slacks. I was dressed pretty much like all of the other guys, with the exception of my bra underneath my white polo shirt. The shirt was fairly thin, and it was the first time that I was a little bit nervous that somebody might see the outline of my lingerie.

I had my hair secured with a black rubber band and I wore some clear lipstick to keep my lips from getting too dry. The lipstick added just a hint of gloss, but no color. My chorus friends, all wished me luck and were particularly friendly before the first curtain went up. My big solo was the third song and would come about 20 minutes into the concert. When my time would arrive, the song would begin with only me being visible to the audience. The stage would be dark and a spotlight would shine down upon me. I would sing for about a minute and a half, before the lights would go on and everyone else in the chorus would join in. My solo was the longest one of the concert.

The first two songs went perfectly and the audience really seemed to be enjoying itself. In between songs everybody seem to be smiling and having a great time and giving high fives and hugs. Ms. Angela the chorus director, asked me if I was ready to go on. I gave her a thumbs up, just moments before three of my chorus mates came over to pat me on the back. Almost in the same motion as I was giving my thumbs-up, I felt a small flick in my hair, and my rubber band shot halfway across the room. My hair cascaded over my head just as the curtain began to go up. There was no turning back and I had to begin my song.

I had practice the song many times, and was not nervous, but for a few seconds, I became just a little flustered. I regained my composure five or six words into my solo and from there my adrenaline carried me the rest of the way. I knew I was enjoying myself up on stage, but when the song was over, it was all a blur to me. I really did not know how I had done, but I could certainly hear the audience applauding. When I looked over to Ms. Angela, she was both applauding and shaking her head at the same time. In between tunes, I asked Max how I had done and he told me I was amazing. He told me the only thing missing in my rendition was the skirt that we had joked about on the phone. He told me that Claire had a lot of talent. I thanked him, but warned him again, to keep quiet about my alter ego Claire.

“Okay Clay, but anyone who saw you on stage this evening, would have assumed you were a girl. Your voice, your inflections, the way you moved your body and of course your hair, showed no sign of a boy named Clarence. I think you stepped out of the closet tonight. Some of your friends, may have given you a little push by cutting your rubber band, but I’m not even sure that made much of a difference.”

“Why did they do that?”

“A bunch of the girls in chorus were discussing you before the concert began. They were talking about your many changes and how much more social you had become. There was a great deal of speculation and some of the guys joined in. I never said a word. When you showed up this evening, a few of the girls noticed your brassiere strap. They got to talking, and thought it would be in your best interest to help you express yourself more on the outside. They got a couple of the guys to agree to pop your rubber band just before you went on stage. I think their plan worked, because you were a knockout on stage. It’s a shame you didn’t wear the skirt after all.”

I was stunned by the turn of events. I now knew that school would never be the same. My little secret was soon to be very public. I did not have that much time to think about it, as we were back on stage. In light of the conversation, I chose not to put another rubber band in my hair. When the concert was finally over I was the center of attention. A bunch of the guys wanted to know what was up, but even more surprisingly, the girls all wanted to talk with me. I received invitations from at least three different girls to come over and study. That had never happened before and I didn’t even know how to answer. Before I had a chance to reunite with my mother after the concert, Ms. Anderson cornered me backstage. She told me how wonderful I was, but based upon my performance among other things, it was time for me to come and see her and set up something with the professional counselor. I told her I would see her the next morning at school.

Mother told me how proud she was of me and that I had sung divinely. She also mentioned that her little caterpillar was now a butterfly for all to see. I knew what she meant, and all I could do was just put my hands up in the air and smile.

I hardly slept at all that evening, with my mind racing about what might occur at school on Thursday. I was concerned about getting some ridicule and what might transpire in the meeting with Ms. Anderson. She was very sweet, but there was a very professional tone to her request to see me the next day. I went in early, so that I could have some quiet time with her. I tried not to dress too provocatively and wore a basic pair of corduroy slacks and a cashmere sweater. Even though I had raised the bar the previous evening, I did not feel it appropriate to push it now and make a bigger scene.

Ms. Anderson was very friendly when I entered her office about a half-hour before the opening bell. Having seen me dressed as a blushing bride, she certainly had a good perspective on my current behavior.

“I am not a professional psychologist, but your recent behaviors seems to be much more than a little experimentation or phase. You clearly are transgendered and have a desire to be a girl. I would bet there are other students in the school with some similar feelings, but none are as committed as you. From what I can see, this is not anything deviant; you really want to be a girl.”

“I would be lying to you if I told you that I did not like my changes. I have felt so much happier since I began to accept my feminine side. Lately it has been hard for me to feel any other way.”

“I suspect the girl I saw at the boutique, will someday have a need for a beautiful gown like she was wearing. For now we are going to have to figure out what is best for you here at school.”

“I don’t follow. I didn’t think my current apparel was causing any problems.”

“It’s not. However following last night’s performance and now common knowledge of your not so visible clothing choices, you are going to be drawing a lot of attention. I doubt that was your intended plan, but the bell can not be un-rung.”
“I was hoping to get to the Prom before making a statement. I guess that’s not possible now. What do you suggest?”

“First I made an appointment for you and Dr. Robin’s at her office, at Evanston Hospital. She is a board certified psychiatrist that specializes in gender dysphoria. If your Mother gives us approval, I will run you over to her office for a two o’clock appointment this afternoon. She will discuss your feelings with you and hopefully provide you and the school some guidance and insight.”

“I’m going to a shrink? Can the school do that?”

“No, we can’t force you to do that, but I believe we all will get a lot out of it, especially you. If you don’t want to go, we may have some problems with you and the other students that we can not help you with. It is in your best interest.”

“How can she help the school?”

“I’m not totally sure, but she has dealt with similar situations before, and the principal has agreed to take her advice on this issue.”

“I guess I will see her then. Should I see her as Clarence or as Claire?”

“As I look at you sitting in front of me, even without makeup on, I don’t see a lot of Clarence anymore. You can go as you are. I will call your mother and if she approves, I will take you right after fifth period. Please come back to my office than.”

“Okay I will. I really appreciate your understanding and it is good to have a friend who seems to be so accepting.”

“You’re welcome and I will be here if you need me.”

I had never been to a psychiatrist or psychologist before. The office had five doctors listed on the door and only one assistant working at the reception desk. I had to fill in some forms and wait about 15 minutes before Dr. Robyn could see me. There were two other patients waiting to see doctors and everyone was very quiet and kept to himself or herself.

When I went in Ms. Anderson said she would come back to pick me up after my two hour appointment. I couldn’t imagine what I would be doing for two hours, but I just said, “Thanks, I’ll see you later.”

Dr. Robyn, or as I now call her Jen, had a very relaxing way about her. I thought I would be getting drilled about my dressing and behavior, but the first hour or so she just got to know me. The discussion was very friendly and I somehow managed to talk about family memories in a way I never had before. We talked about my mother, my father, and about how I felt growing up. The subjects included friends, chorus, and even dating.

It wasn’t until the second hour that we started to explore my new expressive self. She especially wanted to know how dressing as a girl made me feel.

“It’s not just the clothes, I just feel I relate better as a girl. It’s not that I don’t like boys, I do, but I now can see that I never really fit in much as a boy. My interest and personality are more in sync now. It doesn’t feel like an act anymore, it now feels so natural. I would never have said any of this a year ago, but now my life just feels like it has so many more possibilities.”

Dr. Robyn mostly listened, but every now and then steered me in areas she wanted to know about. The time passed quickly and I actually felt refreshed when it was over. She thanked me for being so frank, and said she would be speaking later to Ms. Anderson, the principal, and most importantly my mother and me. She also suggested that we continue talking for a few more sessions to get more adjusted to my latent feelings. She set up a follow-up time for the following Wednesday at 4 PM. We agreed to meet at that time on Wednesdays, until the end of the school year.

I had a lot to talk about with my mother when I got home from school that day. She knew about my appointment and had chatted with Ms. Anderson for a while during the morning. She was anxious to hear about the appointment and how things went at school. I told her that most of the feedback I got at school was positive, with only a couple of guys calling me names. When I was walking down the hall, I heard somebody call me a faggot, but when I turned around I was unable to see who said it. Beyond that, most of my friends basically asked how I was doing. I could see a couple of my friends, trying to check out whether I was wearing a bra again, which of course I was.

I had really liked Dr. Robin and she had made me feel comfortable with my unique situation. She was not judgmental and appeared to show genuine interest. I also mentioned to my mother that I would be having follow-up appointments with her, if that were okay.

“Claire I had a brief conversation with Dr. Robin a short while after you left her office. She said that you were a sweet young lady and she looked forward to helping you work through your feelings. She mentioned that she would call us later this evening, so that we could all talk briefly on the phone together. She wanted to tell us what she was going to recommend to the school, before she called them in the morning. She felt it was important, that we speak first, in case anything she was going to recommend something, we might be uncomfortable with.”

“What is she planning to tell the school? She never told me anything like that. I wonder if I should be worried?”

“She did not tell me her recommendations, but she told me that it would not be anything that you should be worried about. She said she was in your corner, and would try not to create any more obstacles.”

“When does she plan to call?”

“She said it would probably be somewhere between 7:30 and 8 PM.”

“It’s only 5:30 now, I am going to go crazy waiting to hear what she has to say.”

“Let’s have a little dinner and try and relax a little. I wouldn’t want to see any worry lines on my beautiful daughter’s face.”

“Mom! Stop teasing me. I’m not that hungry, but I guess we better eat something.”

We were lounging in front of the fireplace when the phone rang. I almost jumped off my seat, as I was so anxious to hear what she had to say. We each grabbed a cordless phone, so we could both be in on the whole conversation.

“Claire, as I told you earlier, I am going to want to see you in my office to continue discussing your emotional state. My preliminary finding will probably not come as any surprise to you. I believe you are transgendered and a very good candidate to begin a full transition to becoming a woman. This is not an overnight process, even if it seems so much as happened so fast. Psychologically, physically and legally, it takes more than a year before certain aspects of your life can be unalterably changed. I don’t want to get into all the details at this time, but you will need to live full-time as a girl for at least a year, before certain things can occur.”

“So beginning this summer, you think I should live full-time as a girl? I hope I’m hearing you right.”

“No and yes.”

“Huh?”

“I do think that you should begin to live full-time as a girl, but I am not recommending that you wait until the summer. You believe you are a girl and if you stay as a boy at school, you will become very unhappy. I am going to recommend to the school, that you be allowed to come to school as Claire. Your records will indicate your name as Claire, and you can begin to adjust to the school culture of being a girl.”

“I am not sure I can do that. I would be scared to death, showing up in a dress and all.”

“It is going to be difficult at first, but you have already come so far, and most of the students will not be surprised if you go a little bit further. It is important for you to fully accept who you are and not be ashamed of it. It may change a few friendships, but you may add a few more. You could wait until after school has finished for the year, but I think it is a great opportunity for you to learn to adapt to being a woman. Many transgendered people wait until they are older to make these decisions and it is always much harder for them to adjust. You are fortunate, to know what you want at a young age, this will benefit you later in life.”

“Do you think the school will have any problems with what you are suggesting for Claire? Will they allow her to return to school that way?”

“I have dealt with this in other school systems and I believe they will take my recommendations and allow Claire as much freedom as possible. We will have to show that she is getting proper follow-up psychological and physical care and that she is completely committed to this. I am going to slightly adjust her medications and also make an appointment for her to get a complete physical. Ultimately, there will be surgical options, but at least until the summer, we will stick with medications.”

“So when are you going to talk to the school about your recommendations for Claire. What do you need us to do?”

“I will be calling over to the school first thing in the morning. I suspect they will want to meet with all of us as soon as possible. If you like I can arrange to have you meet the principal following classes.”

“I am sure I could leave work early tomorrow and get there by three o’clock. If you could set it up that, that would be great.”

“I will phone you to confirm the appointment.”

“What should Claire do to prepare?”

“I do not think she needs to do anything prior to the meeting. She should dress and behave no differently than she has recently. If all goes as it should, then come Monday she can begin to assimilate to her new gender. There will be some legal, and school record issues to deal with, but I will provide you with a blueprint on what to expect over the next year. “

“Just like that, on Monday I am Claire full-time? Holy crap!”

“It is what you want, isn’t it?” Dr. Robyn responded.

“I know it is, but this is been such a fast overhaul my life. I just recently realized that this is who I am.”

“That is why you need to live full-time as a woman, before you can make some of the changes unalterably permanent. I don’t suspect you will have a change of heart, but it has happened.”

“How do I tell my friends?”

“I would wait until you have met with the school, then I would call your closest friends and tell them yourself. The news will likely travel fast, but for your close friends it will be best if they hear it from you directly.”

“Mom, are you happy about my choice.”

“Claire, you know I am. I had sense this was in you for a very long time, and obviously have had a recent hand in bringing your true feelings to the surface. I hope you’re not mad at me for doing that.”

“I love you mom and always will. I guess we will now have new activities to share.”

“It will be fun, honey.”

“Thank you Dr. Robin. I appreciate everything you have done for me and I can imagine I will need your help even more to get used to all of this.”

“I will await your call tomorrow and be at the school with Claire in the afternoon. Thank you.”

“Thank you both and good luck Claire. You are a very nice person as well as a sweet young lady. Bye now.”

To be continued…….

I WOULD REALLY APPRECIATE ALL FEEDBACK--- MY STORIES ARE PURE FICTION, BUT ARE BASED UPON ACTUAL EVENTS IN MY FANTASIES….

THE PROM STATEMENT: Chapter 7
By
Nina Adams

In the heat of debate, Clarence makes a Prom
Statement that would change his life forever.

CONCLUSION CHAPTER

--------------------------Claire’s First Day of School--------------------------

As expected, the principal called my mother to a meeting at the school Friday afternoon. In addition to the principal, the attendees included Ms. Anderson, my chorus teacher, and the school nurse.

For the first part of the meeting my mother met with the group without me. The discussion lasted about 30 minutes, before I was allowed in to join them. I would later learn that Ms. Anderson was a strong advocate for me during the conversation.

Principal Grimes addressed me first.

“Clarence, your situation is a first for our school and we have never planned for this type of contingency. We often need to get involved in sexual orientation issues when they cause difficulties for individual students, however we have never had a student that requested to change teams, so to speak. Are you sure that is what you desire to do? This is a very major request.”

“Principal Grimes, I would be lying if I told you I am not at all scared, but I know this is a path that I need to take. I am Claire, and I no longer feel comfortable being Clarence.”

“You know that no matter how much we watch over you, there will be students that don’t accept what you are requesting. Some insecure students will probably attempt to make your life difficult. We can only do so much. We will support you, and we do not want the situation to be disruptive.”

“I wouldn’t be here if I really didn’t think it was absolutely necessary. I do not want to cause a scene or be the center of a controversy. I just want to be me.”

“Okay then. We will have to make some adjustments here at school, but beginning next week you have our authorization to attend as Claire. It’s possible that some parents may have an issue with this and we will do our best in dealing with that. You will likely get plenty of attention, but if this turns into a circus we will have to reconsider the situation. Are we clear?”

“Yes, crystal-clear. I will try and blend in with a minimum of fanfare. Thank you.”

“Ms. Anderson has volunteered to be your school point person for issues that may arise. For the next couple of weeks I would like you to check in with her before school every day. If you need to use a restroom for any reason, please use the one in the nurse’s office or see Ms. Anderson to use the one in the teachers lounge area”

“Thank you Ms. Anderson. I appreciate everything you are doing for me.”

I left the school knowing that I had turned another page in my unusual saga. I think my mother was more excited than even me. I was happy, but I also felt numbed by the realization that I was now a girl for all to see.

“Claire, this is going to be a busy weekend. Besides your work commitment at the boutique tomorrow, we have to find time to fill out your wardrobe and for you to call some of your friends on the phone.”

My first call was to Max. He was very happy to hear from me and I was pretty sure he was going to be happy to hear the news. In some ways he had been enjoying my experience as much as I had. I assumed that he would find the news wonderful. I was a little dismayed that he did not take the news in a completely positive way. His words and his tone of voice reflected a somewhat restrained viewpoint. He said he was happy for me, but I could sense some reservations. Until now, I think for him it was more of a game. He knew how convincing I was, but I could tell he was somewhat stunned that I would never be going back to being Clarence. He said he would support me all the way, but I expected more, since I was now going to be the girl he so desired.

After I hung up the phone, I had a hard time trying to figure out why he was not more thrilled. Maybe it was that his best friend had come out to the world, and he agreed to take me to the Prom. I guess in his mind, he was thinking how it might affect him. Whatever the reason, I was a little disappointed in his response.

I called a couple of my other chorus club friends and broke the news to them. I received a couple of cools and wows, and they both said they were behind me. They were appreciative to be the first to find out. By the time I had called my third friend from chorus, he had already heard the news. It was clear to me that by the time I went to school on Monday, virtually anyone who knew of me would know what was going on. When I realize that my friend Hank already knew, I told him to pass the news long.

While I was making calls from my cell phone, Rachel called me on the house phone. She got her mother to shorten up our work schedule for Saturday, so that Rachel and I could go over to old Orchard shopping center and pick up a few new things for me. She even said her mother wanted to pay for the first new outfit that I bought as a gift on my re-birthday.

The whole weekend went by like a blur. Spending the day with Rachel at the boutique and the mall was spectacular. Knowing that this would be an open-ended adventure just added to the pleasure I was feeling. When we were at the mall, I spotted a few guy friends from school, but I don’t think they knew who I was. They looked at Rachel and I, as just two hot chicks doing some shopping. There was no question that I was feeling all-girl, but it still seemed a little strange to know that those guys were attracted to me. I had certainly crossed the line with Max, but it was still an area I needed to explore more of my feelings.

On Sunday my mother and I also did some shopping, but mostly for more practical items, like feminine bathroom products and some cosmetics appropriate for school. By the end of the weekend I had everything a girl my age should need. I even laid out the clothes I would wear on my first day of school as Claire. I decided to wear some stylish slacks with a vest and my wedge styled Mary Jane shoes. I also planned to wear a small amount makeup, so that there would be no doubt I looked like a girl.

I got up early to get myself ready and to leave enough time to see Ms. Anderson before the first bell. It was probably a good thing that I got there early, because I received quite a few stares as I made my way into the school. Most of the students who looked at me chose to say very little. There was one jock that I knew, and all he did was shake his head back and forth. There was nothing ugly immediately said, but my first impression was mostly a cold shoulder.

Ms. Anderson gave me some papers that I needed to take home for my mother to fill out, but most of our time was spent just making sure I was ready for the day ahead. Her positive attitude made me feel better. After everyone had settled into their chairs in homeroom, Ms. Anderson made an announcement to the class that I was now to be referred to as Claire. It was mostly informational and if any of the students needed to talk about it, she encouraged them to see her after class.

The same ritual was followed in most of my other classes and by the afternoon it almost seemed unnecessary. A few of my closer friends came over and talked to me, but most of those conversations were very superficial. Everywhere I walked through school I received roving eyes, but few words. It was clear to me by the end of the day that my warmest response came from the girls I knew, both in chorus and in my other classes. Some of it may have been curiosity, but a few of them genuinely welcomed me into their world. I even made a study date with a girl I knew from chorus for Tuesday after school. Nina had I had only been casual friends in chorus; but I appreciated her reaching out to me when I needed a friend. We decided that after school on Tuesday we would go to the library together.

My mom was anxious to hear about my day at school and I filled her in on mostly good news. It was a stressful day, but all things considered I managed to get through it. I knew I had a rough road to travel and that there would be many bumps ahead. I hoped that each day would become a little less stressful and that I would not be such a center of attention. I just wanted to be another girl and not some freak. At first I thought it might be better to keep a very low profile, but that was the old Clarence thinking, and not the new Claire. I decided to try and be a little bit more social.

My relationship with Max continued to be strong, but he seemed more cautious about showing me affection around our schoolmates. He remained very friendly, but seemed very careful not to reflect that we were an item. I was a little disappointed, but I also knew he must have had a lot going through his head. I didn’t push him hard, because at this point any support was good support.

I had a great time with Nina at the library on Tuesday and I could tell I had a new friend. She asked me a bunch of questions, some of which, I did not know how to answer. She seemed to accept me for who I was and not some weirdo. She also seemed to have a pretty good pulse for what some of the other kids were thinking. She pointed out a few kids to avoid and also mentioned a few that were very cool with what I was doing. We agreed to continue getting together and she said she would have my back. When we were done for the afternoon I gave her a big hug.

With each day I became more accustomed to my new self. I could also feel the effects of the hormones circulating through my body. Within four weeks my sensitive breasts began to ever so slightly swell. I think there were other physical changes, but they were not so obvious. As a result of the hormones and the tight physical constraints of my foundation ware, my remaining manhood was beginning to shrivel. It was not dramatic, but it was not that big to begin with.

I continued to see Dr. Robin and she helped me with the many issues I was experiencing in my transition. We talked about my immediate concerns as well as what to expect down the road. I enjoyed our one-on-one because nothing was off limits. I knew that anything I would say would be between just us. I asked her if she had had other cases like mine, and she said no two-transgendered individuals are exactly alike. We all seem to share certain desires and passions, but most of our stories are very different. She admitted, that my rapid realization was unusual, but that she believed that I had probably just been repressing it during my earlier years. It was obvious to both of us that Claire was more outgoing and happier than the Clarence that preceded her.

Max and I continued to get together on the weekends and about three weeks before the Prom, our classmates found out that he would be my Prom escort. When we originally made our pledge to go to the prom together we knew it would be difficult. Despite that, I don’t think either of us expected it to go quite like this. As soon as people knew that we would be attending together, some of the pressure was deflected over to Max. He received more than a few disparaging comments, including some about his sexuality. He knew the comments would be coming and to his credit he remained firm. The dance was just around the corner and we were on the home stretch for our Prom statement.

The school had received a few calls from concerned parents, but the principal had managed to keep it from becoming a circus. One set of parents even said I should be kicked out of school. There were only a few more weeks of school, which probably helped maintain the school’s resolve.

I spent every Saturday at the bridal boutique with my aunt and cousin. I think it was my favorite part of the week. I loved being around the beautiful dresses and spending time with my cousin. I had finalized my gown pick for the prom and my aunt had it altered to fit me perfectly. I knew I looked like an attractive girl at school, but I was so excited to show myself off as a thing of beauty. It wasn’t enough just to attend the Prom; I wanted my prom statement to look and feel perfect.

The night of the big dance my mother cried when she saw my finished product. Lulu had styled my hair for the occasion and every inch of me had been prepped and polished. My makeup was flawless and my manicure and pedicure matched my look to perfection. These past few weeks had resulted in an amazing transformation, but now, I just felt like a girl getting ready for the Prom. It was a special feeling that a girl would only experience once. For me it was probably more special, but I finally knew how Rachel must have felt last year. My mother took a few pictures so I would never forget the moment.

Max picked me up right on schedule and gave me a white flower corsage that smelled divinely. The look in his eyes as he first gazed upon me was absolutely priceless. The look in his eyes was that of total approval. He could not take his eyes off me, and his massive smile radiated from his face. That reaction made all of the preparation worthwhile. Max looked handsome in his custom black tux. He had a color-coordinated cummerbund to match his bowtie. To anyone looking at us, we were a traditional couple with great style.

I remember the feeling entering the grand ballroom at the Renaissance Hotel. I turned many a head, but not because of my birth gender, but rather for my graceful beauty. I took great pleasure in seeing so many leering eyes. I was happy to be there with Max, but I felt like a queen with all the positive attention. I received many compliments from my new group of girlfriends and even ended up dancing a few extra tunes with some of my guy friends from school. It was a perfect evening that even exceeded my expectations. A group of us went out for a late-night after-hours virgin cocktail which was a fitting cap for a beautiful evening. I was on cloud nine when Max brought me home at about 1 am. The good night kiss sent chills down my spine and left my heart racing at a million miles an hour.

My prom statement had reached its crescendo and my metamorphous was now virtually complete. What started as a moral debate had ended as a new and improved lifestyle. I had bloomed into full splendor from a long dormant seed. A greater passion for life pulsated from the woman in me that had emerged.

____________________________________

Epilogue:

The remaining few weeks of school moved along slowly, but I would not have traded in that time for anything. It was the first time in my life that I felt special. The day that I graduated was a proud moment for me and for my mother. She got a great picture of me smiling as I received my diploma and they read off my name “Claire Alexi Adams.”
Only about one year has past since passed since my magical Prom. I am now a freshman in the school of Art and design at the University of Illinois in Urbana. I still am a very good friend with Max, but we are no longer dating. That was probably more my fault as I was just learning about the amazing possibilities in my life.

I still love music and I am the lead singer in an alternate rock and pop band on campus. We just cut our first demo CD and a couple of our songs have become very hot on the Internet. I am hopeful that we will hit it big, but in the meantime I am excited to be studying fashion design.

The hormones have taken over my bloodstream and my body has gone through quite a change. I am still on the thin side, but my hips have widened out and I have a very natural C cup pair of breasts. I hope to complete my journey over the summer and my mother and aunt are making all of the arrangements.

Rachel is also down here at school and we are roommates. Though she is only my cousin, she seems more like my twin sister.

The future holds so many possibilities.

The End

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I WOULD REALLY APPRECIATE ALL FEEDBACK--- MY STORIES ARE PURE FICTION, BUT ARE BASED UPON ACTUAL EVENTS IN MY FANTASIES….