I sit on the bench in the mall and sigh. I think to myself, “What a birthday this turned out to be!”
My best friend and I were supposed to hang out after my Mom took us to dinner, but Mom wound up having to stay late at work to finish up an ‘emergency’ project and Dan, my best friend came down with some form of Montezuma’s Revenge… So, I took the bus to the mall; it is a new one, not far from our house and really upscale. I wandered around for half an hour, wondering what I am supposed to do, only to plop myself down on this bench in a little pool of misery. This is just not how your eighteenth birthday is supposed to go. I have reservations for three at a really nice restaurant, and Mom’s credit card to pay for it—but who wants to eat alone?
Feeling lost, I look at my reflection in the window of some expensive woman’s clothing store across from me and sigh again. I am nobody’s dream at five foot seven and slightly overweight. I have been trying to lose the fat and gain the muscle, but nothing seems to really work. What weight I have lost has not been replaced with muscle, even though I have been going to the gym a lot lately. Dan, now there is a guy that has put on the muscle—but then I think puberty hit him hard at 12 or 13. I think I am still waiting…
At that moment, I see the most beautiful girl I think I have ever laid eyes on come out of the clothing store. I do my best not to stare, or gawk, but it is nearly impossible, she is so beautiful—we are talking super model gorgeous. She is tall and slender, with just the right amount of curves. She has long, beautifully styled, blond hair. I pinch myself to pull my eyes away from her and look down at my shoes, a little red-faced at my dreams of ever having a chance with someone like her. Talk about being out my league—no, out of my universe, even.
I am studying the small smudge of dirt on my shoe, trying to keep from looking up and watch her walk away, when, to my surprise, I hear the distinct clicking of her sky-high heels coming my way. I smell her flowery perfume before I see her shiny red heels come into my field of vision, not two feet away from my own, in comparison, grungy-looking shoes. I hear a swoosh, as she turns and sweeps her dress under her…and sits down on the bench with me!
I keep studying my shoes when I see a bag fall down and its contents, all sorts of cosmetic stuff, start rolling over the marble floor of the mall. Without thinking, I jump up and start helping her chase down the escaping jars of who-knows-what. I hand her the three jars that I am able to round up and am paid back with the most beautiful smile I have ever seen. Perfectly straight, brilliant white teeth—framed with the most luscious plump and shiny red lips. My eyes move up to meet hers—they are a brilliant blue and encased in long, fluttery eyelashes…they seem to match the butterflies in my stomach…
She says, “Thank you so much! I hate these cheap bags!” She shows me the plastic bag and where the handle had ripped. She continues her rant, “As much as you pay in these stores, they should have better bags!” I blush again and shyly say, “You are very welcome! It was nothing, though.” I don’t know why, but I just continued, “I was just sitting here feeling a little sorry for myself, so it was my pleasure to help.”
I prepare myself for her to leave me to my misery when I am surprised to find her sit back down and ask, “Oh, why are you feeling sorry for yourself?” I really blush now. I get flustered, but finally say, “Well, it is my eighteenth birthday and I was supposed to hang out with my best friend, but he got sick. My Mom was going to take us out to eat first, but she had to stay late at work…so here I am, trying to decide whether to go make use of the reservation, or not.”
She smiles, again almost blinding me, and says, “I know a little how you feel. It is not my birthday, but my best friend stood me up too. We were supposed to go shopping together, but had a family commitment that came up. My name is Vicki, Vicki Langdon, by the way.”
I take her outstretched, limp hand and lightly shake it, totally surprised. I timidly say, “My name is Gerry…McIntosh…” She smiles at me again and says, “It is nice to meet you, Gerry. I know this is a bit forward of me, but would you like some company for supper? I mean, I will pay for my own, of course! But, I thought since we were both stood up…”
I blush bright red and nearly faint. This Goddess was seriously asking me if it is OK to go to dinner with me. When the black spots leave my eyes, I stumble out, “S…s…sure. That would be great! And, don’t worry, I have Mom’s credit card…”
Fifteen minutes later, we walk towards the restaurant. I can see the surprise on Vicki’s face when I steer her towards the door…and I nearly stop dead in my tracks when first walk in. I now feel seriously underdressed. It was bad enough when comparing my nice, but fairly casual, clothing to the decked out clothes Vicki was wearing. Everyone in the restaurant is dressed much more like her than me, though.
I steel my resolve, walk up to the hostess and say, “We have a reservation for McIntosh.” She gives me a once over with a frown and smiles at Vicki. She looks at her book and says, “It says here it is for three? Is the other party coming?” I shake my head and say, “No, my Mom couldn’t make it…it will be just the two of us.” I can tell she is a bit perturbed, but nods and says, “Follow me!”
She takes us to a fairly secluded table for two. I am not sure if it is because she thinks we are an item and want privacy, or because she wants to hide me. Before I can sit, a waiter comes over and pulls out the chair for Vicki and spreads the napkin on her lap—then does the same for me! Another waiter comes over and pours us some water from a silver pitcher and hands us some menus. I nearly choke when I see the prices, but know that Mom had picked out this place and told me to have fun and not worry about the cost. She has a tendency to spoil me a bit since Dad died when I was five… That and I think she feels guilty about having to work so much…
The waiter takes our drink order and scurries off. I look at Vicki and smile ruefully. I say, “Well, if I had known, I would have dressed better… I am sorry if I embarrass you…”
She giggles and says, “I can’t believe you brought me in here. I have been a few times with my parents and it is really good. But, I can’t let you pay for me.”
I shake my head and say, “Nonsense! Mom told me not to worry and was planning on paying for Dan anyway. Err…Dan is the friend I told you about…”
She nods and says, “I figured. Anyway, we will talk about the bill when it comes. I don’t mind paying, though, really…”
When the waiter comes back with our drinks he asks if we are ready to order. I have barely had time to look at the menu and am about to say that I need more time when he says, “We have a wonderful three course special for two tonight that would be perfect for the two of you. It is only two hundred and fifty dollars…”
I barely hear what he says after the sticker shock, but when he is done, Vicki looks intrigued. I ask her, “Does that sound OK to you? It sounds great to me!” I really had no idea what it was, but I didn’t want her to feel guilty about ordering anything.
She looks at me with a little funny look and then says, “It sounds wonderful. Are you sure?”
I nod and tell the waiter that we will have the special. He smiles and takes off.
Vicki says, “Are you sure your mother will be OK with this? I think I should pay my half. I am not comfortable with you paying that amount for me.”
I say, “If you insist, I can’t stop you, I guess. I wish you would let me pay, though. It would make me feel better. I mean…well, I have to be honest…I figured that I would be sitting here alone—if I even came. Now, I am sitting here with the most beautiful girl in the world and, well, I am not used to sitting with any girl…other than my mother. Please let me pay? Consider it my birthday present?”
She laughs and says, “OK. If you are sure. I mean that is a lot of money, though… And thank you for the complement.” She gives me a genuine smile.
I say, “Oh, we would never spend this much on a meal on a normal occasion. I think Mom has been saving up for a while for this. She will be happy that I am able to enjoy it with someone.”
Then she says, “And why are you not used to sitting with girls? You are a sweet guy.”
I blush and say, “Well, I am…not the manliest of guys…and…if you haven’t noticed, I am a bit overweight… I…umm…well…I would never have the courage to even talk to you, let alone ask you to have dinner with me.”
The waiter brings our salads as she gives me a serious look. She says, “Those are just external things…and can easily be fixed. It really is what is on the inside that counts—I should know. My Mom is Sherri Langdon.”
I give her a blank look. She obviously expects me to know the name. I say, “I am sorry…I guess I should know who that is? Is she a super model?”
She laughs and seems genuinely intrigued. She says, “It is so refreshing to find someone who does not know her. She is one of the most famous cosmetic surgeons in the country. Trust me when I say that two hundred and fifty dollars is nothing for a meal for her… She can make anyone look like a million dollars, but that does make them act like a nice person. She always says that I am some of her best work…”
I nearly choke on my water and then she winks… It takes me a minute, but then I get it. I say, “Oh! It is a joke…she means you as in ‘you’—not any kind of surgery…”
She smiles and says, “Most people don’t get it… No, she has never used her knife on me. My father, on the other hand, has done considerable work…”
I raise my eyebrow and she laughs. She says, “My parents are a strange couple, but I love them dearly. My mom is a very renowned plastic surgeon and my dad is…”
I blurt out, “Oh my gosh! Don’t tell me it is Bill Langdon? The Bill Langdon…the awesome tattoo guy?”
She laughs and says, “So, I see you have heard of one of my parents anyway… How do you know my dad? He is not anywhere near as well-known as my Mom…”
I shake my head and say, “He did a tattoo on Dan’s dad… So, you have a tattoo?”
She smiles and says, “Several, but those are not for a first date… He also has done all of my piercings… Some of those are not for first dates either…” She giggles when I blush.
The rest of the meal flies by. I do my best not to fall for this Goddess, but she is so easy to get along with. I know I should not stereotype people, but I would have put her squarely in the ‘stuck-up-bitch’ category before this. Now I am wondering how to ask her out on another date…
They have to call Mom to make sure it is OK for me to use the credit card for the amount of the meal, since it is in her name; I flush in embarrassment. Vicki is insisting they use her credit card when they finally get ahold of Mom and she lets them know that ‘of course’ it is OK.
Once we leave the restaurant and are back in the mall, I profusely apologize to Vicki, “Well that was embarrassing! I won’t blame you if you want to forget you ever met me after that!” I was fully expecting her to leave me to my own devices and to never see her again.
She smiles at me and says, “Well, I am certainly not embarrassed and I really enjoyed the meal and the company. I think you are really sweet. Would you mind helping me carry this stuff to my car? I could give you a lift home…”
I take her load as I say, “Of course I will help you, but I am happy to take the bus. I don’t want to bother you with taking me home…”
She smiles as she hands me her bags and says, “Nonsense! It is no trouble.”
I follow her out to the parking lot and to a beautiful Audi S4. I find myself drooling over the car almost as much as I am trying not to drool over her. I carefully place her bags into the trunk and climb into the passenger’s seat. I would love to drive this car…but am happy to even just get to ride in it.
Ten minutes later, she pulls into our driveway and puts the car into park. Before I can thank her or get out, she leans over and, in what seems like slow-motion, pulls my head towards hers…my lips to hers… My heart nearly stops and I shyly let her kiss me. She looks at me and smiles, then leans in again. This time I respond back and I feel her tongue enter and explore my mouth. She obviously has much more experience than I do in matters such as these—especially, since I have exactly none… After several minutes of kissing, she leans back and hands me a Kleenex from her purse. She says, “You may want to wipe the lipstick off of your lips.” She smiles and says, “Although, it does look delicious on you!”
I blush and wipe my mouth clean, looking in the little mirror on the back of the visor. I start to say something and she just puts a finger on my lips and says, “Thank you for a lovely date. Would you consider going out with me tomorrow night? My treat. Dress nicely; I will pick you up at five thirty.”
She has her finger still on my lip, so I just nod yes…still totally shocked. She smiles and gives me a final kiss before I get out with a whispered, “good night”.
I dreamily watch her drive off and walk up to the door in a daze. I open the door and see Mom sitting on the couch. She smiles and asks, “Hi, Honey. I am so sorry I could not make it tonight. Did you and Dan have fun, though?”
I shake my head and say, “Dan couldn’t make it either. He is sick.”
Mom gives me a confused look and asks, “But you were at the restaurant and the bill was obviously for more than one?”
I smile and tell Mom about my chance encounter. She smiles back and asks, “Langdon? Any relation to Dr. Sherri Langdon?”
I shrug and say, “She is her daughter. Does that mean anything?”
Mom laughs and says, “Well, Hon, she is one of the most renowned plastic surgeons in the country. I guess it doesn’t surprise me that you have not heard of her; although, I can’t believe you haven’t seen the advertisements. Lovely Bodies Clinic?”
I slap my forehead and say, “She is that doctor? Wow… And she asked me out again tomorrow…”
I sit on the couch, stunned. Mom smiles at the news. I shrug and say, “Mom, she is gorgeous…why would she be interested in me?”
The next day, I get home from class around four. I am a senior in highschool and it happens to be my light day. I am surprised to find Mom at home already. She smiles when she sees me come in and says, “Well, yesterday, I had to stay late; so I was able to leave early today…”
I sigh and say, “I need to get ready, but I don’t know what to wear. Vicki said to dress ‘nice’…”
Mom looks at me and asks, “Does your suit still fit? I don’t think we have much time to get you anything else, but we can try if we have to.”
I sigh deeper and say, “I am not sure. I have not really had a need to wear it since Julie’s wedding last year…” My cousin had gotten married a little over a year ago and I have put on some weight since then.
Mom says, “Go try it on, Hon, and let me see.”
I go to my room and pull out the suit. It is not a really expensive one, but it is in good shape. I put on my best dress shirt and tie; then the light grey suit. It is snug, but I can stand it. I go out to let Mom inspect me.
She giggles and says, “Well, I think it is time we get you a new suit, Sweetie. But, it will do for now. Can you breathe?”
I smile wanly and say, “Mother! Yes, it is a bit tight, but not terrible. Does it look OK?”
She laughs and says, “Yes, it looks fine. Under better circumstances, I would prefer a better fit, but it will have to do. You need to polish your shoes, though. There is some black polish in my closet upstairs.”
I quickly get the polish from Mom’s closet and laugh at the fact that she has so many business suits and I only have the one. I make short work of shining my shoes and look at the clock. It is five and I am feeling pretty good, although I am very nervous. Mom had changed out of her suit and into something more comfortable while I polished my shoes. She is now pouring herself a glass of red wine and getting ready to relax.
She sets her glass on the bar between us and puts the stopper in the bottle. Right at that moment, the dog barks loudly at someone he sees out the window—and scares our cat. The cat jumps up onto the bar in a panic and knocks over the glass of wine—straight onto me. I instinctively bend down to catch the glass and feel my pants rip up the back seam!
I feel like crying. Vicki is going to be here in less than thirty minutes and I am a wreck. I quickly help Mom clean up the wine and say, “I would call or text Vicki to call off our date, but I don’t even have her number…”
Mom looks at me and says, “I may have a solution…although, you may not like it… Come with me.” I follow her to her room and wonder what she has planned. She goes to her closet and says, “Get out of those ruined clothes.” She pulls out a white blouse and a dark blue suit and says, “I think this will actually fit you pretty well.”
I blush and say, “MOM! I can’t wear one of your suits!”
She says, “Just put it on and let me see. It is my most masculine one. I don’t wear it anymore because that is not the style anymore… Well, and I lost that weight. Anyway, here. Put on this…shirt…”
Numbly, I take the ‘shirt’ and put it on. I struggle with the buttons, which are on the wrong side. I groan and say, “This isn’t going to work, Mom! People will see right away!”
She comes over and helps me button up the small buttons. Once it is buttoned, I have to admit to myself that it really does not look all that different from the shirt that just had red wine spilled all over it. It feels different, though; it is really soft. Mom then hands me the pants. I sigh and pull them on. They feel really different, too. They are softer than my suit pants—and sort of stretchy. Again, the hook is on the wrong side…and there is this flap under the really short zipper that buttons up and completely obscures the zipper. If I wind up wearing these, there will be no easy way to pee. I fiddle and get the flap buttoned and the hook closed and marvel that the waist actually fits perfectly. I put my belt through the loops and buckle it.
Mom smiles and says, “See, they look very nice. You don’t have another tie, though, do you?” She rummages in her closet and comes out with a burgundy silk scarf that she ties around my neck in a loose Windsor knot, like a tie. She has me put on the jacket, again with the buttons on the wrong side and says, “This is the style in some circles. It looks nice on you. Now we just need to figure out what to do about your shoes. You can’t wear those, they smell like wine. Get a new pair of socks.
I hurry to my room and get a new pair of socks and put them on. I hurry back to Mom’s room. It is already eighteen after. Mom hands me a pair of shiny black shoes. They are obviously hers, although, they are not particularly feminine, other than a slightly higher heel than a guy would normally wear. I give her a curious look and she says, “Try them on. I am not sure about the size, but you don’t have overly large feet… These are a women’s seven…we can only hope…”
I sit down, again marveling at the feel of the pants, and slip on the right shoe. It fits, but is really tight. I say, “I don’t think I can do this, Mom. They are too tight.”
Mom goes to her closet again and says, “Take off your socks. They are too thick for those shoes.” She comes out with a pair of black knee high hose and hands them to me. She says, “Put these on. No one will be able to tell they are not black socks.”
I groan, but look at the clock. Twenty-two after. I carefully pull on the hose and would never admit to her that they feel really…nice. I then slip on the right shoe and it fits perfectly. I tie it and put on the other. I stand up and my feet are at a slightly strange angle because of the heel, but they feel fine.
Mom has me stand back and looks at me with a smile. She gestures at the full length mirror in the corner. I go look at myself and have to say that I look really nice. Unless someone specifically looks to see if the buttons are on the wrong side, no one should notice.
At that moment, the doorbell rings. I pale and feel huge butterflies in my stomach. I hurry down the stairs and open the door to a radiant Vicki. She looks even better than yesterday. She smiles brightly at me and says, “Hi Gerry, you look really nice!”
I invite her in and say, “Vicki, this is my Mom, Claudia McIntosh. Mom, meet Vicki Langdon.”
The two of them exchange pleasantries for a few minutes and then Vicki asks if I am ready. I smile and say, “If you are.”
I hug Mom and she wishes us a fun night. I follow Vicki out to her car and we get in. She takes off and we are headed north towards the really upscale part of town. The mall we met at last night is on the border of the older more established part of town, that we live in, and the newer high society’s realm. She pulls into the parking lot of an expensive looking French restaurant and we go in. We are immediately seated; they seem to know Vicki well here.
We are in a private area at a table overlooking a large scenic lake. We order our drinks and Vicki looks at me and says, “Gerry, I think you are really brave to show your feminine side like you are. I admire that.”
I feel my heart fall into my stomach. I start to stammer, “It…it... You can tell? And you still went out with me?”
She takes my hand and says, “I am a fashion major. Of course I can tell. Five years ago, that particular style of woman’s power suit was all the rage. It is of very good quality and not cheap. I assume it was your mother’s? That is obviously a size twelve and she is no more than a six or eight…”
My face falls and I just nod…totally deflated.
She continues, “Gerry, I wasn’t kidding when I said I admire you for your bravery. I have dated a number of ‘macho’ guys, all full of themselves. I have always been bisexual, but their attitudes…and lewd behavior completely turned me off. They mostly wanted me as a trophy. I turned completely to my lesbian side for the last couple of flings, but they were mostly after my ‘family discount’ with Mom. I can’t lie to you, Gerry. I am mostly a lesbian, now…I really enjoy female company. But, last night I felt a connection with you that was just sort of…right…”
She stops as the waiter brings our drinks and some appetizers.
When he leaves, she continues, “I struggled with those feelings all last night. I really want to explore where this will take us, but I also know that I am strongly drawn to the feminine and am worried that I am not being fair to you… The fact that you are willing to show this side is an absolute positive. How far are you willing to go—or have you gone? Oh! You are not gay are you? Please tell me you are not! That would be such a shame… Transgendered maybe?”
My head is spinning. I take a bite of the bread and a sip of my tea. I am not sure how to respond. The one thing I am sure of is that I am not going to say that this was all a fluke… Finally, I say, “No, I am not gay. Trust me, I am a guy…and I think you are hot!” I blush and continue, “I hope that is not a turn-off to you, that I said that. This is as far as I have ever taken it. I am a nervous wreck as it is. I can’t say I would not take it further, but I am not sure my nerves could handle it.” I figure that was a neutral enough response.
She cocks her head to one side and smiles. She says, “Oh, you are so cute. And, no, you did not turn me off.” She giggles and continues, “Well, we can maybe try things in private until you get more comfortable with them. I take it your Mother knows, since she was there tonight? It is her suit, isn’t it—or was?”
I just say, “She helped me get dressed; and yes, it’s one of her old ones.”
She giggles and says, “That is so delicious. I think I am already in love with your mother! Maurice!”
The waiter comes right over and she says, “Maurice. You already know that I am twenty-one and I am sure that you can guess that Gerry is not. We would still like to have a glass of my favorite Cotes-Du-Rhone, each. We are celebrating. That will not be a problem, right?”
He looks at her and winks and says, “Non, Mademoiselle Langdon. I do not see any problem here!”
A few minutes later, he sets a large round glass about a third full of blood-red wine down in front of me. I watch Vicki pick up the glass, swirl it lightly and breathe in deep with her nose inside the bowl of the glass. Then she takes a sip and smiles. She says, “Wonderful, Maurice. Thank you!”
She reaches out with her glass towards me, obviously wanting to clink glasses with me. I hesitantly pick it up and lightly clink her glass. I take a sip of the wine and nearly choke. It tastes like…moldy dirt to me. She giggles at my face and says, “Don’t worry, Hon. It is an acquired taste. You will get used to it and learn to love it. Trust me!”
I sip on the wine throughout the meal. It is true that, by the end of the meal, I was becoming more accustomed to the taste…and feeling a little light-headed, but I don’t think I would order it again, if given a choice. Something tells me that if I am going to be hanging out with Vicki, though, I will not have much choice. She obviously loves the stuff.
Before tonight, I did not realize that she was twenty-one…barely. Her birthday is just three weeks before mine. During the meal, I learn more about her; she is a fashion design major—a sophomore (she had taken a year off after high school to see the world). She lives alone in an apartment not far from here. She has two best friends. Before tonight, she was not dating anyone.
I blink at that one and take a sip of the wine. I stutter, “So, you really want to date me? That is so awesome…” The wine was speaking a little now—even though I still have half my glass. I timidly say, “And, if it makes you more comfortable with me, I will…experiment…for you. You have to know by now, though, that I am not comfortable in my skin—that I have huge self-image issues…”
She takes my hand and says, “And we will work on those. I promise that you will love yourself when we are done! Just promise me that you won’t go all monster on me and leave me. You think I am beautiful and can have anyone I want. You are right—to a certain extent. I am sensitive, though…I want some someone that is sensitive, too. Someone that wants me for me…someone for which my beauty is just a bonus. I think that could very well be you. Please don’t disappoint me; I don’t know that I can take more disappointment.”
I look at her and say, “Vicki, I promise you with all of my heart that I will never intentionally hurt you. But, that goes both ways. You know that I have issues--major issues with my image…and girls, in general. You have it completely in your hand to totally destroy what little self-confidence I have. Please don’t abuse that power that you have over me.”
We clink our glasses, hers newly refilled, and promise to be there for each other.
An hour later, we are back at the mall. Vicki takes me into one of the high-class jewelry stores and picks out a pair of ‘promise’ rings. They are made of platinum and have several diamonds set in them; one larger one in the center and several smaller ones around the band. They are billed as unisex—they seem plainly on the feminine side of ‘uni’ to me. They are also really expensive.
I look at Vicki and say, “Vicki, these are…lovely… But, they are way too expensive. We don’t even know that this will work out…”
Vicki looks at me and says, “Gerri, I have faith in us.”
I look at her and say, “Vicki, please… I am not comfortable with you spending that much on me. Not now…maybe not ever…”
Vicki smiles and tells the clerk to put the rings away. She looks back at me and asks, “So, are you willing to do something for me? It is along the lines of what we discussed…”
Without asking, I nod my head. Vicki points to some diamond studs. They are not small and not huge, but they are very sparkly. The clerk pulls them out of the case and Vicki inspects them, then says, “Yes, I think I will take them.” She pays and whispers something to the clerk. On our way back out to the car she says, “Gerri, I am going to take you to meet my Dad!”
I nervously stand in the very bright and very clean tattoo and piercing parlor. It is so clean that it almost resembles a doctor’s office or a clinic. It had only taken us about ten minutes to get here from the mall and I had sat in total silence, scared out of my wits to meet Vicki’s father—although I am intrigued by the thought, too. Ever since I had seen Dan’s Dad’s tattoo, I have wanted to meet him. His work is so detailed…so realistic…so cool! I am not sure what is making me more nervous, meeting Bill Langdon, or meeting Vicki’s Dad…
A door opens and a tattooed guy comes out. He is not overly tattooed, but he has several visible ones—nothing like a biker would have or anything. No skulls or such. Vicki goes over and gives him a hug and says, “Hi Daddy! I would like you to meet my new friend, Gerri. We have just decided to give serious dating a try.” She grins and I blush as he gives me a serious look over.
I go over and shake his hand. I say, “It is an honor to meet you, sir.”
He gives me a funny look. I say, “I have actually wanted to meet you for some time. You did a tattoo on my best friend’s Dad, Kevin Vogel. I have always thought that tattoo was awesome. I had no idea that Vicki was your daughter when I met her…”
Vicki giggles at me and her Dad says, “Well, you can call me Bill, Gerry. So, how did you two hook up? I have not heard anything about you… Have you been going out long?”
Vicki tells him the story of our chance encounter and he laughs. He gives me another ‘look’, then says, “Son, I know how you felt. I was the same way with Vicki’s mother. Anyway, what brings you two here? I am sure it was not just to meet me. Do you want a tattoo?”
I blush and say, “I would love a tattoo from you, sir, but I don’t think I could afford it…”
Vicki breaks in and says, “Actually, Gerri is exploring his softer side and that is one of the things that drew me to him. Like I said, yesterday was his eighteenth birthday and in celebration of both of those events, I bought these diamond studs for him. Would you put them in for him, Daddy? After that, I am sure we can figure out something about a tattoo, if you really want one, Gerri.”
I look at her, stunned. I think, ”She wants me to get my ears pierced? Oh, shit! What do I do? What will Mom think? It could be cool, I guess…especially with a cool tattoo… But…”
Bill speaks up and says, “Sure. I can put them in…and I would be happy to give you a tatt. I will give you the friends and family discount…and then waive that as a birthday present for my daughter’s boyfriend—as long as we are not talking about major work.”
Vicki goes over and whispers in his ear, so that I can’t hear. He nods and asks, “Are you ready? The piercing won’t hurt. The tatt…well, I can give you a glass of wine beforehand. I am closed now, anyway, so no one will know…”
I nod, still stunned at getting my ears pierced. I have not completely processed the tattoo piece, yet.
He has me sit in a chair at the back of the sterile-looking area after he locks the door and turns off the open sign. Before I know it, my ears are pierced and the diamond studs are placed in the holes. I look at them in the mirror and see them sparkle and shine in my ears. They feel sort of heavy and are placed towards the front of my lobe and close to the edge.
Vicki says, “Oh, Gerri! They look wonderful! And with them placed like that, you can get more piercings later, like mine—and wear smaller hoops.” She hands me a glass of red wine and I can guess what kind it is. As I take a rather large sip, she asks, “So…are you going to let me pick out your design and where to put it?”
I take another large sip of wine for courage and already feel its effects. I just nod, what else am I going to do? Vicki goes over to her Dad and confers with him for some time. They have a fairly animated, albeit whispered, discussion. Finally, Bill shrugs and comes over to me. He asks, “Are you sure you want this? It is permanent; you know that, right? And you are sure you want Vicki to have complete control over what and where?”
I take another ‘sip’ of wine and nod. I say, “Yes, I trust that Vicki will pick out something in good taste. I am sure you won’t let her put anything erotic or inappropriate on me.”
Bill shrugs and says, “OK, then. Sign this consent form and follow me.” I sign the form that I understand the risks of getting a tattoo and follow him to a table in another room. I look at the equipment and the bottles of ink and take another nervous sip of wine. Bill says, “Take off your pants and pull down your undies; then lay down on your stomach.”
I do as he says, wondering what Vicki has chosen—and why I have to basically get naked down below...
He feels the upper part of my right butt cheek and then cleans it off with a cold liquid—probably alcohol, or something. He says, “Well, you don’t have any hair there to speak of. That is good. Now, just relax while I sketch it out…”
I feel him drawing on my butt, right at the nexus of my waist and butt. It doesn’t feel big… I take the last sip of wine and feel pleasantly calm…but, I do wonder why there…and what…?
I have just about nodded off from the wine when I hear a buzzing and Bill say, “OK, Gerri… Here we go…”
And then the pain begins…
After what seems like HOURS of buzz…wipe; buzz…wipe; buzz…wipe…, the pain and the buzzing stop; in reality only after about an hour. Bill says, “Ok, Gerri. Just a bit more and you are done. How are you doing?”
I just grunt and Vicki steps up into my line of sight. She giggles and says, “It looks awesome! I told you my tatts were not for a first date. Since this is our second, I will show you one.” She drops her skirt down below her butt and I see a beautifully detailed blue butterfly on her left butt—right at the border of her waist and butt. The butterfly is about three inches big and its wing would be peeking out just above her skirt’s waistband. It is beautiful, and dainty, and very feminine-looking.
She smiles and says, “We match now. Only yours is the mirror-image on your right butt!”
I feel faint as Bill holds up a mirror for me to see the exact mirror-image duplicate of the dainty blue butterfly indelibly inked into my skin…
I gingerly sit in the car as Vicki drives me home. My mind is awash in turmoil, ”What am I going to do now? What is Mom going to think? What do I think? A butterfly? I know that Vicki meant well and is all excited… But, a butterfly?”
I had, of course, profusely thanked Bill for the tattoo and the piercings. It was not his fault that I am conflicted about this. I am also really not mad at Vicki—I am sure this falls in line with how she interpreted me ‘experimenting with my feminine side’. I was just not expecting anything quite so quick…or permanent. At least the tattoo is small and will not be visible under normal circumstances.
Vicki is chatting away about how great she thinks the earrings look and that I should let my hair grow out. I smile and nod, not really giving her my full attention. At least my wine-induced brain fog has lifted. I definitely don’t want Mom knowing about that…
She pulls into the driveway and gives me a deep kiss. For the moment, all other thoughts are driven from my head. All I can think about is her tongue wiping out my mouth. Dizzy from the kiss, I get out and stumble up the walk to the front door. I enter and see Mom sitting on the couch. She smiles and looks up, then gets a funny look on her face.
She gets up and comes over to me and says, “Gerry, is there something you want to tell me? I see you got your ears pierced?”
I blush and say, “It was not my idea, Mom, but I obviously let it happen. Vicki knew right away that I was in one of your suits. She is a fashion design major… It turns out that she is, in her words, a bisexual that comes down on the lesbian side of things. She has had some bad experiences with ‘men’,” I make air quotes, “but thought I was nice last night and wanted to give it a shot. When she saw me in your suit, she thought I was intentionally showing off my ‘feminine side’,” again air quotes, “and she was really excited. She wants me to expand on that… I didn’t know what to say, but I didn’t want to blow it—it seemed like a small price. I figured it wouldn’t amount to much…”
Mom giggles and asks, “So? The earrings are an extension of that?”
I blush and say, “Uh huh… And there is…more…” I drop my pants and show her the tattoo.
She gasps and says, “Oh MY! Well, that is certainly a beautiful tattoo…and there is no doubt that it is very feminine…” She shakes her head and asks, “How did you let that happen? I mean you could take out the earrings, but…”
I sigh and say, “I told you her dad is Bill Langdon and he did Dan’s Dad’s tattoo. She took me to his shop to get my ears pierced and we got talking about that tattoo and he offered to do one on me for free… Vicki wanted to pick it out, so, of course, I let her pick out the design…and location… She wanted it to be a surprise; she has a matching one. She thought it was cute and some sort of sign we are together. Originally, she wanted to get us friendship rings—I guess I would have been better off with those… I…I…I don’t know what to do, Mom!”
Mom tells me go change out of the suit and hang it up in my closet, then come back down to talk. After I put on some sweat pants and a comfortable shirt, I come down and gingerly sit on the couch.
Mom says, “Well, Gerry. I can’t do anything about the tattoo. There are ways to remove them, but they are expensive…and you are going to have to let it heal first, anyway. Are you saying that is what you want? To remove it?”
I shake my head and say, “No, I got myself into this one and will figure out about that later…depending on how things work out between Vicki and me. She was being sweet and sentimental, right? Some sort of girly bonding thing? What I meant was… I really like Vicki…and I still can’t believe she likes me. And I really want it to work out between us. But…this ‘feminine side’ thing… I think I opened Pandora’s Box. What do I do, Mom?”
She gets up and goes to the kitchen, motioning for me to follow her. She puts on some water to make some tea and then sits down and asks, “Well, how do you feel about your feminine side? Are you afraid to explore it? Against exploring it? It seems you have three choices: Tell Vicki the truth and see what happens; tell her you don’t want to explore that side and see what happens; or you go along with it. Would that be so bad? Whatever you decide, it has to be sincere. I will not let you lead her on. It is clear she is being sincere with you.”
She gets up to make the tea and brings the pot and two cups back to the table. I sit quietly, thinking, while it steeps. Finally, as she pours the tea, I say, “No, I don’t guess it would be a bad thing to experience some of the other side; I just don’t know anything about it…”
Mom actually laughs and says, “Well, isn’t that what exploring is all about? If you are serious about doing this, Honey, I am happy to help. Like I said, though, you have to be serious—at least long enough to give it a fair shot. So, why don’t you have Vicki come over tomorrow for dinner. It won’t be a fancy deal, but it will give you a chance to sort things out.”
I shrug, take a sip of the hot tea, and send Vicki a text. After I hit send, I can’t help but wonder what I am getting myself into. I wonder that all night long…
I am getting ready to go into the bathroom to get ready for class the next morning when Mom stops me and hands me a pair of white women’s panties. I give her a curious look.
She smiles and says, “Well, you said you want to explore… This is a good way to start, don’t you think? Don’t worry, they are new…never worn.” She giggles at my face.
I stutter, “B…b…but… REALLY?”
She laughs and says, “It is up to you, Hon. But, I think it is a good faith start—or have you decided to not do it? Vicki is going to be expecting much more, I think, judging by that butterfly on your butt! And remember, I will not condone you leading her on! Oh, and don’t forget to use the disinfectant on your ears and to rotate your studs. You don’t want an infection!”
I sigh and say, “No, I didn’t sleep all night, really—but, I will give this a shot. This just is…a surprise, I guess… I didn’t expect YOU to get into to it, too.” I sigh at her giggle and go into the bathroom. I wash my face and clean my ears using the antiseptic that Bill had supplied me with; I rotate the studs and can’t help but stare at myself in the mirror. The studs somehow look much bigger today. Vicki had said they are one carat, each… I try and picture how I would look if I did let my hair grow out as Vicki had suggested and just can’t see it.
Currently, my hair is longer than I normally keep it, since I am a couple of weeks late getting it cut. But, it is by no means ‘long’. I have never really had it long. It is a dull strawberry blonde and I have always thought it was sort of boring. I am not sure what it would look like if I let it grow.
I pull my mind out of its reverie and look at the panties Mom had handed me. They are white and silky. They have some lace on them, around the waistband and the leg openings. I pull off my sleep pants and can’t believe that I am actually even considering this.
I step into the panties and pull them up. I notice a couple of things. First, like I said, they are silky and feel really soft as they slide up my legs. Second, once they are fully up, I notice that they hug me much tighter than my normal briefs. The legs are cut higher and the waistline is lower on my hips. Third, the lace tickles my legs a little. Lastly, my ‘little Gerry’, small as he is, is barely contained because of the panties’ cut.
I try and figure out what to do about ‘little Gerry’ to keep him from ‘hanging out’. I experiment a minute by pulling the panties down and tucking my little guy back between my legs. I pull the panties back up and they look better, although there are still some obvious ‘bumps’. Not really thinking, I massage the front, sort of mesmerized by the look. All of a sudden, the ‘bumps’ disappear as I feel my testicles pop up inside me!
I panic, worried that I have done something bad. I pull the panties back down and everything falls back into place. I sigh a big breath of relief. Then…put it all back—just to see…
I am standing there, looking at the weird flatness in the mirror, ready to let things back out where they belong and put on some normal undies in spite of my promise to give it a shot, when Mom knocks on the door and just comes in. She says, “I hope you are decent, but I need…”
She is suddenly quiet when she sees me and then smiles. She says, “Well, those look very nice on you. I see you have figured out a way to wear them appropriately. Nice! You are going to keep them on and just like that, right? Remember—no leading on…”
I freeze in panic. I had not intended on either, but now I don’t know what to do. Vicki is coming over tonight and Mom is right…there is no telling what she has in mind for me to try out. I rationalize that no one will know what I am wearing under my pants—any more than they will see the butterfly on my butt. Now, if I could only hide the diamonds in my ears as easily!
I sigh and say, “OK. Sure, I guess. If you think it is necessary, it is really uncomfortable…”
Mom smiles and says, “Good! I will pick you up enough new panties to last you a couple of weeks on my way home tonight. I have put a garbage bag in your room. Just put your old ones in it for the charity clothes drive this month… And, by the way, what is a little discomfort for a hot girl like Vicki, right?”
She grins and winks, then turns and leaves before I can say anything. I shake my head and wonder what I have gotten myself into. Even Mom seems to be getting into this, now—and maybe enjoying it a bit too much…
I really don’t have a lot of friends in school, anymore. My plan is to go to the local community college for my first year or two to knock out a bunch of the general courses, since I am not at all sure what I really want to do in the long run, and hopefully decide on a course by then. Most of my old friends from school all plan to go to ‘real’ college and we have unfortunately all sort of drifted apart as new cliques have formed. Long story short, no one really says a word about my pierced ears, although I do get a few grins from some of my older buds and I do notice some of the girls looking at me more, but not in a mean way...
I find that sitting in the hard chairs with my sore butt is a big issue throughout the day. My backwards little guy is also really uncomfortable in his present position, but I find that I become more and more used to it as the day progresses—or maybe he is just getting so numb, I don’t notice the discomfort. Even so, by the end of the day, between my butt and my trapped little guy, I am really ready to get home and find some relief.
Speaking of relief, using the bathroom is also a real pain with my guy the way he is; I have to go into a stall to get him untucked…and then fixed back. I find it is actually easier to just sit and pee.
Finally, I make it through the day, all pain aside, and happily ride the bus home, enjoying the cushier seats. To my surprise, Mom is just coming home too—about an earlier than normal. She smiles at me and says, “Hi, Hon! Help me carry these bags in.”
I open the trunk of her car and see several grocery bags and a large pink bag with a ‘VS’ on it. Even I know that it is a Victoria’s Secret bag and am more than a little surprised that Mom shops there. I shrug my shoulders and grab the groceries, leaving the VS bag behind in the trunk, figuring she will just take it straight to her room.
I take the groceries into the kitchen and Mom follows me in with the VS bag. I set the groceries on the counter and she completely surprises me when she hands me the bag and says, “Here, put these away in your room and then hurry back down and help me with supper. Vicki will be here soon and I want it to be a nice affair. We are making your Grandmother’s lasagna…”
Stunned, I take the very pink bag to my room and look inside it. There are a couple dozen lacy panties of varying feminine colors, like bright pinks and oranges, or pale blues and greens. They all cut like the ones I currently have on. Mom had told me earlier it is a ‘bikini cut’; like I really wanted to know.
There are also the same number of silky undershirt-looking things, except they have string shoulder straps instead of sleeves and some lace around the neck; these are in white, beige, and black.
Finally, there is a black woman’s sleepwear set?!?!
I shake my head hard—I feel like I am in Wonderland, or something. In a zombie-like trance, I put the panties in the drawer that had previously held my undies. Since I don’t have an undershirt drawer, I just put the shirt-thingies in with the panties. I have no idea what to do with the night thingies, so I just throw them on my bed…
I pinch myself to see if I am dreaming and hiss when I feel the pain. I shake my head again and start thinking about changing to give my little guy some freedom. Right then Mom yells up for me to ‘hurry up’ and so I just go back downstairs as I am—the little guy is sort of really numb by now, anyway.
When I enter the kitchen, I look at Mom and ask, “What are all of those things? I mean, OK, I can maybe see some plain panties to ‘get in the mood’, but those are not ‘plain’. I have no idea what those shirt thingies are. And what in the world am I supposed to do with that night thingy?”
Mom hands me an apron and says, “Those are very nice panties and I paid quite a bit for them. Please take care of them! As for the camisoles, they are exactly that…undershirts. You should wear them under your shirts to get that feminine feeling of nice lingerie under your clothes—there is nothing more feminine than enjoying nice lingerie; it is something us girls really live for. As for the baby doll, well, it is to sleep in, of course. Now quit procrastinating and put that apron on. Your girlfriend is going to be here in less than two hours!”
I blush and take the frilly apron. I put it on over my head and struggle a bit, but finally get it tied behind my back. This is the first time that I have ever actually helped cook in the kitchen. Mom has me make the salad, giving me instructions and tips along the way. I also help assemble our family’s traditional lasagna recipe and garlic bread. Soon enough, the lasagna is in the oven, the salad is in the refrigerator, and the bread is ready to be toasted—and we have a little less than an hour to go.
Mom then has me set the table; this, I know how to do. I look at the clock; forty minutes...
Mom has me do several other preparatory things and keeps me busy, so the time passes quickly. Before I know it, the doorbell rings and I answer the door; of course, I forget to take the apron off. Vicki sees me and gives a little scream, “Gerri! You are so cute! She hugs me and kisses me and says, “And it smells so good! Lasagna? My fave!”
She follows me in and my mom gives her a hug. She says, “Hi, Claudia. Thank you so much for inviting me. It is a rare occasion that I get a truly home-cooked meal! We had a cook at home, but it is simply not the same. Oh, I brought my favorite wine—I hope you like red?”
Mom smiles and says, “Welcome, Vicki. It is an old family recipe; I hear you like lasagna, which is great. Gerry helped…and also made the salad and garlic toast… And, yes, I adore red!”
The meal passes quickly with lots of talk about Vicki and her plans for the future. Of course, Mom embarrasses me with certain stories of my past; she does however let me have a little wine as a consolation, though… I am starting to get more used to the taste, but still make the appropriate face when I taste it, and don’t give anything away.
One thing I find out during the conversation is my mom actually knows Vicki’s mom; somehow through Mom’s business. While they are not ‘friends’ in that manner, they are good business acquaintances. It surprises me even more when Vicki does not seem surprised by this, but I don’t say anything…at the moment.
I quickly help Mom clean up. Since it is still rather early for a Friday night, only about eight-thirty, Vicki makes a suggestion, “Why don’t we go to the mall? Maybe we can find some nice clothes for Gerri to try out. I am dying to use my fashion skills again on someone other than me. Of course, I am happy to give my opinion on things for you, too, Claudia—if you want, that is.”
My hopes that Mom will be too tired and not go along with this idea are dashed, when she says, “Vicki, that is a wonderful idea! I have been meaning to let Gerry pick out some new fall and winter clothes; the old ones are, well, so old… And as far as I am concerned, if Gerry gets an updated look in the process, so much the better! And, all of us going together would be so much fun and I would love your expert opinion. Let me just grab my purse!”
Fifteen minutes later, we are at the mall. Vicki gets a gleam in her eye and asks, “Should we start at Victoria’s Secret?”
I choke a bit and Mom giggles, then says, “I was just there a bit ago—I got Gerry some of the cutest panties and camisoles—and a darling baby doll nighty. I am curious to see what feminine things you would pick out, though. You can never have too much lingerie, right?”
Vicki giggles as I profusely blush and says, “Oooo, I wish I could take a peek…” And we enter the ‘forbidden zone’ of women’s intimates…
To say that my Mom embarrasses me to no end is an understatement—and she does it on purpose; I can tell. She is having too much fun with my insecurities as Vicki picks up several bras and asks my opinion.
She holds up one particularly lacy ‘push-up’ bra and asks me my opinion. Seeing my red face, she says, “OK, maybe it is a bit too soon for bras… I know you are still easing into this… I LOVE that you are doing it, though.” She whispers in my ear, so that Mom can’t hear, “You are really turning me on, right now!”
I nearly choke, but just respond, “Yeah…ummm…I don’t think I need any bras… Err…I don’t have anything that would…benefit…from them…”
Mom gives me a strange look and Vicki giggles. She then pulls us over to another section of the store. There is no stopping her here, though, and we eventually walk out of the store with two garter belts and accompanying hosiery ‘for that intimate feel’, as well as a couple more ‘nighties’.
Mom just giggles as she hands me the large, very pink VS bag to carry.
From there, we go into the same high-end women’s clothing store that Vicki had been coming out of when I met her. I give ‘the bench’ out front a forlorn look, wishing I could just go sit on it while the two women go into the store. Seeing Mom’s raised eyebrow, I put on a ‘happy’ face and follow them in.
I really want to draw the line at trying on some women’s pants, but I know that would let Vicki know that this is not really what I had intended when wearing Mom’s suit. Mom just gives me a smug look in anticipation of how I will react. I finally take the pants that Vicki picks out for me to try on. They are a size ‘12’, like Mom’s old suit, and feel sort of…luxurious. They are a simple black and sort of dressy, for a woman that is, but not overly. I guess you could say, they would be the equivalent of me wearing really nice khakis. I nearly faint when I see the price tag…$235.98!
I see this is as my opportunity and say, “Vicki! There is no way I can afford these!” I expect Mom to back me up.
Vicki says, “Nonsense! I talked to Mom and she has agreed to a small budget as part of her birthday gift to you. She couldn’t let my Dad outdo her!” She grins and winks.
I groan and Mom simply says, “Vicki, tell your mother thank you. I will set up a lunch meeting with her—of course, I can expense that, so we will have a nice one! It has been way too long, anyway. And we have lots to talk about.”
I am looking back and forth between them and finally give up. I shrug in defeat and head towards the dressing rooms.
My final hope is that they will stop me, an obvious guy, from going into this forbidden woman’s realm. I am surprised that the associate at the dressing room door does not put up a fuss, at all; she only asks if I need assistance. It seems she, and just about everybody else in the store, know Vicki very well and they are all just about helping—especially after Vicki ‘explains’ why I am here.
I blush again and go in. I don’t know what I was expecting…naked women, or something, I guess. It really is no different than the guys’ rooms…
I try on the expensive pair of women’s pants and I have to say they feel really nice; I even do say that as I come out for Mom and Vicki to see them on me. They both approve of the look and I wind up with three pair; the black ones, one navy blue pair (basically the same as the black ones), and one charcoal grey, really soft woolen pair. Then they pick out several tops for me.
Mom says, “These cashmere sweaters are adorable! They would great over your new camis.”
Vicki chimes in and says, “Yes! I agree…this will be an awesome new look for you! They will let you feel very feminine, but not look overly so—the same as the pants. I think we have you on your way down the right path!”
I think, ”Yeah, down the path to the rabbit hole…”
Mom says, “You will be the envy of the school!”
I nearly choke on that one and say, “Umm… You really think I should wear this to school? Isn’t that a bit overdressed? I mean…”
Mom giggles and says, “Well not every day maybe; you are right. That is maybe too much change at once… We can get you some new jeans, too.”
Of course, the jeans I get are women’s… Thankfully, not with bejeweled pockets; but the pockets are ‘decked’ out with embroidery. Overall, I guess they don’t really look too girly; a lot of guy’s jeans are like that now, too. At least, I tell myself that. I can’t deny that they feel so much better than my old jeans, though…
Of course, Vicki insists on paying. She just puts the total on her store charge, not blinking at the fact that it is over a thousand dollars. Mom seems a bit shaken, but thanks her again and I thank her, too. My thanks wind up ending with a kiss. Mom just winks at me at that.
My hopes that our shopping spree is over are dashed when Mom says, “OK, Gerri. You need new shoes, too.” She doesn’t specifically mention the accident with the wine, she just says, “Your old ones are a total loss. It is great that you can wear mine, but I think you should have your own.”
Vicki grins and almost bounces as she says, “Shoe shopping? Yes! My fave!”
I meekly follow them into a large shoe store with high-end shoes. I start to walk towards the men’s section when Mom pulls me with them to the women’s. I turn a little red and she says, “Come on, Hon. We will find you something appropriate, don’t worry. I think you need something ‘nice’ and something for ‘every day’. Of course, once you fully get into the feminine mindset, you will find that you never can have too many shoes! Right, Vicki?”
Vicki grins and says, “Absolutely! Oooooo! Look at these! They are DARLING! I HAVE to see if they have my size! Do you want some, too?”
She is grabbing some pink monstrosities with a heel that would put any self-respecting pencil to shame. I blush, not knowing if she is asking me—or Mom…
Thankfully, Mom says, “Those ARE adorable and would look really great on you, Vicki! I think I will pass, though. Pink is not really my color.”
Vicki is looking through the shelf for her size and says, “Nonsense, Claudia! I think you would great in pink. You just have to use it as an accessory color for your complexion; not as the primary one. Little pops of color… Ahh, here we are! They have my size! Gerri? Have you found anything you like, yet?”
I groan internally, as I watch Vicki strap on the towering shoes.
Mom smiles and hands me a pair of shiny black shoes. They are wedge-shaped and clearly women’s, but after she has me put them on, I have to admit, you can’t really tell—other than I am two-inches taller. Mom says, “This will work well with your new pants, they are designed to be worn with at least a little heel. More would be better. We can get you some real heels to practice in at home…”
When all is said and done, we leave the store with ten pairs of shoes. I have the shiny black ‘wedges’, a pair of new (girl’s, but not plainly) sports shoes, and a pair of red, three-inch ‘pumps’ to ‘practice’ in (there was no way out of that one…). Mom has two new pair of heels, including one pink pair that Vicki convinces her is ‘perfect’. The rest are Vicki’s…
On the way home, I get the next ‘big’ shock of my life. Vicki looks at Mom, sitting in the passenger’s seat, up front, and asks, “Claudia, you don’t mind if Gerri sleeps over at my apartment, do you? Mom wants us to come by tomorrow and it would be easier.”
I want a hole to appear in the back seat and swallow me up. I know Mom is going to go ballistic. I nearly explode from my complete surprise when she says, “No, not at all! That makes perfect sense! Gerry, please remember to tell Dr. Langdon hello from me and behave yourself…” Then she giggles and says, “I keep forgetting that you are eighteen and I don’t have to treat you like a little child anymore. You can make your own choices now…and I have raised you to stand by them…”
The message is clear… I have made my choice and promised to stand by it… Don’t embarrass her; especially with a client.
We drop Mom off at home and I quickly go to my room to get some toiletries. Mom reminds me to get fresh panties and camis, as well. The new purchases are still in the car; it seems I will be wearing some of my new clothes tomorrow to meet Vicki’s mother…
I put all of the things into an overnight bag that Mom hands me. At this point, I don’t even cringe at the fact that it is pink.
About twenty minutes later, we are pulling into the underground garage of an expensive-looking condo complex. Vicki parks in a reserved spot right next to the elevator and we get out. I take all of the purchases and my overnight bag out of the trunk and we ride the elevator to the penthouse. Vicki had to put in a special card and a code, but the private elevator opens straight into her apartment. The view of the city is stunning as soon as the doors open up and I gasp.
Vicki smiles and asks, “You like? It was my graduation present from high school. I think my Mom traded it with someone for some work she did on them. Something about a tax write-off. Anyway, it was a win-win-win, don’t you think?”
I am still gawking at the whole place and just nod. It is all absolutely stunning; the condo itself, the view, the furnishings…
Vicki pulls me out of the elevator and the doors close behind me. She tells me to just put the bags in the bedroom and points in the right direction. I go into the room she indicates and see an immaculately kept bedroom that is very feminine in its furnishings and accessories. It is all pinks and bright whites, lace and ribbons. It is all very tastefully done, though…for a woman, that is. Any self-respecting male would go into feminine-overload in here…and I am fighting it hard. It hits me hard again that this is what she wants me to embrace—what I have promised to embrace…
I set the bags down at the foot of the king size bed and hurry back out of the room; only to be pulled back in by Vicki.
She giggles and says, “We should get comfy.” She digs in the bags and pulls out one of the baby doll nighties that she had gotten me at VS. It is dark pink and silky, with lots of lace. She says, “Here put this on while I change—I will be right back!”
She disappears into her bathroom, leaving me holding the lingerie. I shake my head and get undressed. I sigh a little as my ‘guy’ is released from his strangle-hold and pull on the bottoms that go with the baby doll. Either I have become used to the feel of panties, or he is just still too numb, but I don’t get any reaction from him as I pull them up; which is good, as far as I am concerned. I don’t want Vicki to get the wrong idea… I am just pulling the top over my head when Vicki comes out of her bathroom with a similar, but black, nighty on.
She smiles and says, “Wow! That is so much better! I love my clothes, but I love relaxing in a nighty so much more! Come into the living room and we can have a glass of wine before we go to bed. It is going to be a busy day, tomorrow.”
We go into the living room where she has me sit on the couch and then she goes to the adjoining kitchen and pours two glasses of her signature red. She hands me one and curls her feet up under herself on the couch. She says, “Get comfy, Hon. It is just us.”
I try and mimic her position, but it is not really comfy for me with my guy getting his feeling back. I change positions and just bend my legs back under me the best I can.
She smiles and we clink glasses as she says, “There are ways to help with that… We can talk to Mom, if you like. I know I would like that…”
I think to myself, ”Say something, idiot… Tell her that is going too far… Tell her…” I don’t know why, I really don’t, but I say, “Yes, I would like that…if you think it is a good idea.”
She looks at me and says, “Gerri, this is not about what I want. If you don’t want it, then say so. I am not about being dominant or controlling… That is not me; if this is going to work out between us, it is a partnership of equals…and honesty.”
I nod and take a sip of wine, already feeling it, since I had had some at supper, too. I say, “OK, Vicki. I like that…and it can’t hurt to talk to your Mom, right? Just to see what the options are? If there is a way to make it more comfortable when he is tucked away, then I am all for it!”
She giggles and we finish our wine, with her snuggled up to me. It is nearly midnight by the time we finally get ready for bed. Vicki washes off her makeup and moisturizes her face while I brush my teeth. Then we go into the bedroom.
My heart is pounding, I am so nervous. I have no idea what her expectations are… Should I make a move? Do I wait for her? Does she even want to…?
I am immensely relieved when she pulls back the covers to reveal the pink satin sheets. She smiles and says, “Be careful, Hon. If you have never slept on satin sheets—they are slippery…” Then she sighs and says, “I hope you are not getting the wrong impression about our night together. I just want to enjoy us…snuggle…nothing more. OK?”
I am sure the relief must show on my face. Not that I wouldn’t want to do more, but the pressure is off… I know where things stand. I say, “That is perfectly OK, Vicki. This is perfect!”
She kisses me and says, “See! You are just so sweet!”
And I get into bed—only to slide off the other side to her immense laughter…
It doesn’t take me long to fall asleep, spooned by Vicki. The relief of not having to try and perform, mixed with the effects of the wine lull me into a deep sleep. That does not mean that I don’t dream, though. I have the most wonderfully erotic dreams of Vicki…
It takes me a bit to realize that what I thought was a dream is actually Vicki kissing me…licking me…on top of me…
I open my eyes to sun streaming in and her smiling face…just as she settles down onto my very hard and very ready erection. My eyes go wide and she leans down and kisses me as she starts rocking her hips. It does not take long and I feel an immense wave of relief come over me as I empty myself into her. I look into her eyes and she smiles at me again…but it is a different smile; one that seems to be just for me--for no one else in the world; just me…
She says, “Good morning, Sweetheart! That was for being such a sweetie last night. You can return the favor tonight. You should probably go and shower for now…”
She takes a towel and makes sure we don’t soil the sheets as she slips off of me. She gives me a kiss and says, “Go! I want time for one, too…and the way I feel right now, we don’t need to be taking one together…”
I nod and go into the bathroom and take a very cold shower for as long as I can stand it, before turning it to warm. Of course, there is nothing in her shower that is meant for a man… The shampoo, soap, and body wash are all scented for a woman. I won’t even go down the road of the ‘feminine wash’… With no other choice, I come out of the shower smelling like ‘white chocolate and strawberries’…
There is a pink, thick, soft absorbent robe waiting for me and I put it on and come out of the bathroom to the heavenly scent of coffee. I go into the kitchen and receive a bagel and a cup of coffee while Vicki heads for the shower, herself.
I have finished my bagel and two cups of coffee when she comes out; her hair is wrapped in one towel and her body in another. She fills her mug with coffee and goes back into the bedroom. I follow her and watch her put on her makeup. She smiles and explains each step of what she is doing. I know she has misinterpreted my attention for desire, rather than just wanting to watch her perfect hands work on her perfect face, so I don’t say anything and follow along with her narrative.
After she is done, she puts on her panties and bra and dries her hair. Then she asks, “So, what have you decided to wear today?”
I say, “I looked at the weather on my phone and we had our first cold snap last night. It is only 48 degrees out, so I was thinking maybe the wool pants?”
She nods and says, “Yes, that is a good idea… Why don’t you wear the dark green pullover sweater with them? You can wear a black cami under that and it will all look very nice!”
I nod and start getting dressed while she goes into her closet to pick out her outfit for the day. This is the first time I get a glimpse into it and am surprised at the size of it. It is bigger than my Mom’s whole master suite at home. If I had to guess, I would say, there must be at least a hundred pairs of shoes lining the walls…
I shake my head as I see the five new pair, still in the boxes, at the end of the bed. I put on a pair of panties and tuck my still happy little guy back. I put on a black cami, the first time I have ever done so, and marvel at the soft, silky feel. Mom had bought me black ‘knee-high’ nylons to go with my ‘good’ shoes and I put those on instead of socks. Then I take the tags off of the pants and put them on. I struggle with all of the backwards buttons, flaps and hooks, but finally get them all closed up. Then I pull the soft dark green cashmere sweater on over my head. Thankfully, the cami does not show…I was worried that the lace just might.
I look at myself in the mirror and realize that the pants sit lower on my waist than my normal ones do. The little butterfly on my butt is plainly peeking out, so I am going to have to be careful to keep my sweater pulled down.
Vicki comes out in blue woolen pants and a pink sweater of her own. The big difference being that her assets are plainly adorning the front of the sweater. She says, “Now, that looks great!” And she gives me a kiss.
I smile and say, “I have one problem, though. The pockets aren’t real… I don’t have anywhere to put my wallet or keys.”
She taps her lips with a perfectly pink-manicured finger and says, “Yes, I guess I didn’t think about that… Let me see…” She goes into her closet and comes out with a small black bag. She says, “This is a Fossil bag that is actually sold as a unisex one. You can just put your stuff in here. It is masculine enough that it won’t stand out, but feminine enough to give that little ‘extra’ feminine feeling!”
I smile at that. Not because I agree with it, but because of the irony. She, of course, takes it as ‘I love’ the idea. I say, “Great! I think…don’t let me leave it anywhere! I am not used to a…purse…”
She says, “Man bag, if you are still a bit uncomfortable with the thought. Just think of it as a man bag. OK, we really need to get going. We are supposed to be at Mom’s place in twenty minutes!”
I fidget all the way there. I am nervous about meeting her Mom. I am nervous about being completely dressed in girl’s clothes. I am really nervous about carrying a purse…
We get there and Vicki parks a ways away from the entrance. She says, “Mom doesn’t want us to take up customers’ places, so we always park further away. It also protects the cars from dings.”
We start the walk to the front door and I am still getting used to the shoes. The two-inch wedges keep me just slightly off balance as I walk and they sound different on the concrete than my normal shoes; not the same click-clacking as Vicki’s four-inch stiletto heels…but, well, just different. I had also been worried about what they would look like, but Mom had been right that the pants are designed for higher heels and the way the legs fall masks the shoes nicely…
We walk up to the door of the building and I notice it is a mix of a beauty spa and cosmetic surgeon’s office. Vicki tells me that it has turned out to be a really winning combination. Women coming to the spa often decide to have procedures. And women coming to have procedures often become long-term clients of the spa.
We go in the ‘surgery’ side of the complex and Vicki smiles as she says ‘Hi’ to the receptionist. She introduces us, “Gerri, meet Veronica. Veronica, Gerri. Is Mom ready to see us?”
Veronica nods and says, “Hi, Gerri. Nice to meet you! And, yes, Vicki, your Mom is waiting for you in Room Two.”
Vicki thanks her and leads me down a hall to a room with the number ‘Two’ on it. She quietly knocks and goes right in. I meekly follow her in as Vicki goes up and hugs a woman that looks more like it should be her sister than her mother—she is every bit as beautiful. Vicki steps back and says, “Mom, this is Gerri. Gerri, this is my Mom, Sherri Langdon.”
Dr. Langdon smiles at me and says, “It is very nice to meet you, Gerry. Vicki has told me quite a bit about you over the last couple of days. You have made quite the impression on her—and my husband, it seems.”
I blush and say, “It is nice to meet you, too, Dr. Langdon. All I can say about impressions is that your daughter has certainly made a lasting one on me!”
Dr. Langdon giggles and says, “Vicki, you are right! That is just so sweet! Gerry, please call me Sherri. Have a seat and let’s talk a bit.”
We all sit at a small conference table in the room. I quickly look around and see that it is an exam room of some type. Before I forget it, I say, “Dr… Sherri, my Mom said to tell you ‘Hi’ and that she will be in touch with you soon to set up a lunch. I guess you know each other?”
Sherri smiles and says, “Yes. Your mother and I go way back. She helped me with some real estate investments when she was working with her old real estate firm. And now, she is helping me with other investments at her new bank. She seems to really like this new job; although, I know she feels guilty at times that it takes up so much of her time… Tell her that I look forward to lunch, please.”
She smiles at me and then turns to Vicki and asks, “So, what is it that you wanted to discuss that we needed to meet in a consultation room?”
Vicki giggles and says, “Well, Mom; as I have told you, Gerri is experimenting with the feminine and there are some things that I hope you can help with before we go for our spa appointment on the other side….”
I just remain quiet to see where this is leading.
Sherri looks at me and asks, “So, Gerry, I have to ask you. Is this true? You want to experience the feminine? If so, how far? More like, what it is to be a woman? Or just, the feminine side of being a male? Looking at how you are dressed, right now, it is a bit hard to tell. Based on Vicki has said, the former?”
I always get confused with that ‘former’ and ‘latter’ stuff, but I think she is asking if I want to be more like a woman than a sissy. One thing is for sure, I don’t want to look like some sort of sissy. But I have no plans on being a woman, either.
I sigh and say, “It’s true, Sherri, that I am experimenting. I honestly don’t know how far to go, but I do know that I don’t want to be a ‘sissy’. I know that is likely not the best word to use, but…I don’t want to be laughed at…”
Sherri gives me a genuine smile and says, “I understand; and that word is fine, for now. So, what I am really hearing is that you want to experience being a woman, then. I know you are still in school and we have to be careful that what we do is in line with whatever is allowed there. There are a couple of options, really. We can work on something that will put you completely in the realm of the woman—full time. Or, we can do some things that will allow you to switch back and forth—those things are not as realistic in terms of the feeling, but are a good beginning. It seems that may be more what you are looking for?”
My head is swimming. I have no idea where this is headed. I say, “I think so. If I understand what you are asking; no, I want to be able to be ‘me’ at school. I…I…I don’t want to even think about what it would mean to go to school looking like a girl. When Mom suggested I wear things like this to school, I got all nervous!”
Sherri giggles and says, “Well, Gerry, those are certainly very nice clothes, but the look is still very androgynous the way you are dressed, at the moment. More importantly, it seems your Mom knows and is supportive of this, as well? I know you are eighteen, but family support is important.”
I just nod and say, “Mom is actually very insistent that I go through with this ever since I said something about it. She seems to think it is important that I do…”
Sherri frowns and asks, “But, she is not forcing you, is she?”
I shake my head and say, “No, she left the choice completely up to me. But, she is adamant that I follow through, since I chose to do it.”
Sherri says, “Yes, I can see that in your Mother. She is very conscientious; and when she sets her mind to something, she follows through. She obviously expects the same of you. So, you are sure?”
I look at Vicki and smile; then look back her and say, “Yes, Ma’am.”
She says, “OK, then. Here are your options, as I see them. If your intent is only to make tucking easier, then we can give you a blocker that will prevent you from getting an erection. That will make things much more comfortable until you decide if and when you want a more complete and permanent solution in SRS. If you also want to emphasize your female slash feminine feelings then we can add female hormones to the mix. But remember, hormones alone will not make you feel feminine—that is a mindset; they will simply help give you a better foundation to get into that mindset. I am not really willing to give you hormones without a blocker, though. I have seen that mess people up too much. Effects of either of the above options are reversible up to a certain point—if you continue this course for too long, reversing the effects will become more and more difficult until no longer possible. Do you understand?”
I listen, stunned. I had not even contemplated that it would take this course. I don’t really know what I expected. My head is spinning, so I decide to ask some questions. I look at Sherri, “So, what…effects can I expect and how soon? How long is a ‘while’?”
Sherri smiles and says, “Good! You were paying attention! For the first couple of months, you will experience the effects of hormonal change; much like a woman experiencing pregnancy. You will likely experience some nausea for a while and struggle with your emotions running wild on you. Of course, the intended effect will also present itself in that it will become increasingly more difficult to get an erection. You will find that the estrogen will counter that in ways of its own. If you continue the course, your skin will become softer, your fat will redistribute to more feminine areas, your hair will become softer, and your body hair will become finer and sparser. Eventually, you will develop breast buds and then full breasts, although not as big as if you had started this earlier…”
She gives me a look to see if I am keeping up. I guess my look satisfies her and she continues, “As for when this will all happen; well timelines vary with each individual, as does the actual extent of developments. We will need to take some blood and other samples to see where you currently are and adjust from there. As for when the point of no return is reached, that is somewhat dependent on everything else I just described, but is typically measured in months; maybe six and closer to a year for some.”
She sees my confused look and says, “Gerry, you don’t seem too committed to this. Do you want to think it over? Discuss it more with Vicki—or your Mom? Your Mom doesn’t technically have to be involved, since I will cover the costs and you won’t have to worry with insurance, but I fully understand if you want to discuss it.”
Vicki takes my hand and says, “Hon, no one is pressuring you into this. If it is too fast, then we can wait. I just thought it would help with your problem and help you feel more like you want to.”
Sherri looks at me and says, “Absolutely! These are only options and you have to decide. I will say, however, if you decide to go with them, I insist that you stick with it for at least three months and give it a chance. Even the most dedicated struggle with the initial effects and if you don’t get through those, then you will not have a chance to embrace the benefits.”
I sit there for a few minutes and just think. I let my conversation with Mom go through my head. I sort through my feelings for Vicki. I ask myself what I am willing to do. Finally, I come to the conclusion that three months can’t be that bad…right?
I nod and say, “OK, I have to say this is a surprise. I didn’t know what to expect when I came here and this is a bigger decision than I was expecting to have to make… I don’t need to discuss it with Mom, though. I think I would like to go through with it for the three months and see how I feel at that point.”
Sherri nods and says, “That is what I wanted to hear, Gerry. No, not that you want to go through with it, but that you are not taking this lightly. Now, we just need to get some samples…”
Vicki and I walk over to the spa side of the complex. I had to give a blood and a semen sample and then Sherri had sent us on our way. Now, Vicki is signing us in for some appointment that she seems really excited about.
She bubbles, “Now, this will really get your feminine juices flowing—there is nothing like a pampering at the spa! Well, except putting on sexy lingerie after the pampering! And maybe shoe shopping… But, I digress. Anyway, we are going to get a full body wax and a mani-pedi today. We can add a little more on each week as you get more comfortable with things. Does that sound OK?”
I can’t help but ask, “Body wax? As in remove my hair?”
She giggles and says, “Yes. Don’t worry, it does hurt a bit the first time, but just wait until you are smooth. I can’t!” She whispers in my ear, “You will see why when we are in bed together!”
I won’t go into the detail of me certainly sounding like a girl when my hair is ripped out by the roots. Suffice it to say that it is not pleasant. When they rub in the soothing lotion afterwards, well, that is nice, though. And when I get dressed again… Well, Vicki was right—the soft clothes feel heavenly on my sensitive skin…
Then came the mani-pedi. I really did not know what to expect going into this. I will have to say that it was a really nice experience, though—especially compared to the waxing. When Ginger, my spa-technician, is done, I have very well-cared for nails…in a pale nude pink. I was worried when she started putting it on and then baking it under some sort of light. But,you can’t really tell, except they are really shiny now—which I am told is not unusual even for guys. At least they are short, not even close to the tips of my fingers; although Vicki seems to think I need to let them grow… I am not sure how I feel about that.
We are sitting back in Consultation Room Two with Sherri fifteen minutes after Ginger is done. I can’t help stare at my nails as I sit there.
Sherri smiles and says, “Those are very nice, Gerry. By the way, is that what you want to be called? Gerry…maybe Gerri with an ‘i’?”
I say, “I…I don’t know! To be honest, I have not really thought about it…” I think a minute and say, “Don’t laugh, but I have always liked…Deirdre…”
Vicki says, “But, that is a beautiful name! Irish, right?”
I nod and Sherri says, “Maybe you should talk it through with your mother, but I think it is lovely. Are you ready for the shots?”
I nod…suddenly very nervous.
Sherri then gives me two big shots in the butt and hands me a bottle of pills with written instructions on taking them. She then hugs me and says, “Welcome to womanhood, Hon. I hope it turns out to be all you envisioned.”
I wake up on Sunday morning in bed with Vicki and smile as I remember ‘paying her back’ for quite some time before we settled in to sleep. I try not to move, since she is snuggled up against me and I don’t want to wake her.
I lay there and think of what I had done yesterday—the pain in my rear an absolute and very real reminder of the shots I had received. I ask myself if I made the right choice, ”Am I crazy? What am I doing?” Then I remember last night and have to believe that I did—not that it matters for three months now; the choice is made and I promised to stick to it. That promise is now not only to my Mom, but also to Sherri. I still marvel at how I so easily agreed to it—just to be with Vicki. I catch myself wondering how far I actually will go to be with her.
I look over at her perfect face and, once again, tell myself that this ‘trial’ is worth it. If I don’t like it after the three months, which is pretty much a given, I can honestly say I tried and only hope that, by then, we’re far enough along in our relationship to be OK as a ‘traditional’ couple—that Vicki will have seen that I am not like those guys that she despises… I can only hope that she was being completely honest when she said she liked me even before the ‘suit’ incident.
And then it hits…a wave of nausea… I literally slide off of the satin sheets and out of the bed. I barely make it to the toilet in time to lose what little is left in my stomach. Thankfully, by now, it is very little.
After several minutes of heaving, Vicki hands me a cold washcloth to put on my head; I had not even heard her come in. She says, “I am sorry, Love. Is it letting up? Do you feel like eating anything?”
I lick my parched lips and cringe at the thought of food. I say, “Not at the moment. I hope it passes, though. I hope ALL of this passes—quickly. This sucks! Is this really what morning sickness is like?”
Vicki giggles and says, “You’ve got me, Love! I have never been preggers…”
My stomach finally settles down and I am eating an egg-white omelet when I get a text on my phone. I feel faint and really nauseous again as I read it. Tears come to my eyes.
Vicki sees me turn really pale and asks, “What is the matter, Hon? You look like you have seen a ghost!”
My lips tremble as I say, “You remember me talking about Dan, my best, well really my only, friend that was supposed to come have supper with me on my birthday, but got sick? He wasn’t in school after that either and his Mom suggested I stay away in case it was something contagious. He is the only friend I have left in school—all of my other, older friends have drifted off to other cliques as our interests have evolved. Dan is the only one that has stuck it out with me… His…his…his Mom just texted me that he suddenly got worse—he is in the hospital…in a coma! I haven’t talked to him since before my birthday, other than a text that I had met you—and now I may never get to again!”
I can’t help it; I start crying at that… I don’t know why, I have never really been one to cry before, but it is just so overwhelming to think about.
Vicki comes over and hugs me and asks, “Should we go to the hospital? Is there anything we can do?”
I shake my head and say, “I think I need to go home. Mom will want to know; if she thinks it is a good idea, we can all go together. I am not sure if we are allowed in and I don’t want to bother Dan’s Mom, right now…”
An hour later, we are at home and Mom is heartbroken when she hears the news. She immediately calls the hospital to find out what she can, which is little, since we are not family; but she does find out that we can visit at eleven o’clock.
With all of this, I don’t even think to mention my medical ‘intervention’.
We all get exit the elevator on the third floor of the hospital at eleven and find his Mom or Dad. I introduce Vicki and then then they tell us that Dan had suddenly gotten weaker and then wouldn’t wake up anymore. They had called 911 and he was brought straight here to the hospital, unresponsive. His Mom says that they are running all kinds of tests and have no idea what it might be.
We sit with the Vogels for two hours while they are running a bunch of tests on Dan, then we leave when the Doctors want to talk to them privately. They do however promise to keep us informed.
We leave the hospital parking garage and drive to a restaurant for a late lunch. While we are sitting there, I still can’t seem to stop the flow of tears.
Mom notices and asks, “Are you alright, Gerry? I know you are concerned about Dan, but it is not like you to cry like this. Not that I care; I think it is a stupid ‘rule’ that men aren’t supposed to cry…”
I take another Kleenex that Vicki hands me from her purse and wipe my eyes; I sniffle a bit. Finally, I say, “I think it has something to do with the hormones…”
Mom looks confused. “Hormones? What are you talking about, Hon,” she asks.
She looks stunned when Vicki says, “Gerri,” She looks at me and then says, “Or should I say Deirdre(?), decided to start on female hormones and a male hormone blocker—on a trial basis for three months. My Mom administered them and it is all being fully medically supervised.”
Mom sits back shocked and says, “Well…that is certainly a commitment! Much more than I guess I expected; especially this quickly. You are sure this is what you want…Deirdre? I haven’t heard that name is quite some time…” She is reflective for a moment and her eyes glisten a bit as she says, “Such a lovely name, though.”
I wipe my tears again and say, “Yes, it is like we discussed, Mom; I am committed to seeing this…experiment through and will hold to it. This solution solves a few problems and if it doesn’t feel right in three months, then there is no harm done. Sherri has assured me of that, since it is such a short time. And, yes…I always liked great-grandmother’s name. Although, I wanted to talk to you first…” I give Vicki a pointed look.
Mom gives me her own piercing look and then just nods, “OK, Deirdre. If that is what you want…your grandmother would be proud to have someone named after her—if it is not just in jest. So, is that also who you want to be at school?”
I shake my head and say, “No, Mom! Only when I am outside of school…mostly even only at home. Anytime else, I am Gerry… Gerry with a ‘y’! And I would never disrespect great-grandmother.”
We stop the conversation long enough to order. I am self-conscious about the environment, but, thankfully, the restaurant is nearly empty since it is so late and the main lunch crowd is gone. I sigh and continue, “You…agreed…that it was a great idea to…tuck…you know… Well, that got really uncomfortable during the day at school. This is supposed to help with that. It will also let me feel what it is like to be a woman—as much as possible. I am already finding out what morning sickness is like. How did you stand it? No wonder you only had me!”
Mom giggles at that and says, “Well, that is not even the worst part of pregnancy—or the ‘gift’ of female hormones. OK, so ‘Deirdre’ is still mostly in the closet then, I guess? I am worried about the hormones, but if Sherri says they are safe, then I am OK with it, I guess. It will be an experience for you… I am just not sure that it is good to keep it all bottled up…you may have to let Deirdre out more. We will see…I can talk to Sherri at our lunch. You did tell her, right? I also assume that you will be seeing a psychiatrist?”
I numbly nod and that is really the end of the discussion—for now. Our food arrives and we get back on the topic of Dan…
The next morning, I come out of the bathroom and feel like CRAP! I had just spent the last fifteen minutes ‘worshiping the porcelain throne’. I grab some clothes, not really caring at the moment what I have picked up to wear, and get into the shower. Some Sprite and crackers later, I head to the bus stop, wearing panties, a pair of my new jeans, a sweater with a cami underneath, and a pair of my new sports shoes. By the time I was getting dressed it was too late to find anything different. The only positive is that my little guy actually is much less uncomfortable tucked away…
On the ride, I think about Vicki to take my mind off of my stomach. I am saddened that I won’t see her until Friday on our next date. She has to prepare for a bunch of tests this week and I don’t want to distract her, so we agreed to wait go out Friday night.
The bus arrives at school and I get off, still slightly nauseous. No one is really paying much attention to me as I rush into the bathroom and lose my crackers. Luckily, Mom made me bring a small pack with me and I force them down to mask the taste in my mouth and also try and settle my stomach. I make it to the nurse’s office, not because of my nausea, but because Sherri had insisted I take them a sealed letter from her.
At her request, I wait for Nurse Myers to open the letter and read it. Her eyebrows raise and she looks at me and asks, “So, you are on female hormones and male blockers? I have to say I am surprised…Deirdre, is it now?”
I groan and say, “No, at school I am Gerry and no one is supposed to know what I am doing. You are not even supposed to know about that name. I am going to have to talk to Dr. Langdon about that!” I feel tears coming on and can barely contain them.
Nurse Myers says, “It’s OK, Hon! She has to inform us of all of this; but we have to keep it confidential—unless you are claiming full transgender status. The letter leaves that open, but it seems you don’t want to at the moment?”
I say, “No, I am just…testing the waters. I don’t want to create a big fuss—the fewer that know, the better. OK?”
She just nods and says, “Understood. I will still have to inform the principal and key staff, just in case there is any…trouble. It will go on your official file that you are transgendered, but choosing to remain in your male persona, for now. So, wuld like something for the nausea? I can tell your stomach is upset.”
She gives me some pink tablets that I take and they do help some… I am able to keep my crackers and some water down.
By the time I get to my first class, my stomach is better and I make it through class OK. As I am leaving, Jennifer, who I used to be really good friends with in grade school, pulls me to the side and says, “Gerry, I heard about Dan. That is awful! Do you have any news?”
I give her a brief update, what I know anyway and feel tears coming on as I talk about it.
She looks at me and asks, “Gerry, are you OK? What’s going on with you…?” She looks around and sees we are alone in the hallway. She quietly says, “Sitting behind you gave me a full view of your lacy panties…and cute blue butterfly. Looking at you, and knowing that…well, and the new earrings, I can see you are wearing girls’ things. When you sit down and have low-rise jeans on and your top rides up, then your waist…and what is on underneath becomes visible. Girls know this and act accordingly…they make sure only what they WANT to be visible actually is… Was it your intent to show your secrets to the world?”
I groan and say, “Jennifer, I know that we drifted apart as friends…but, PLEASE don’t spread this around… You don’t think anyone else saw…?”
She shakes her head and says, “I doubt it. It was just the angle I had sitting directly behind you. But, if you don’t want the world to know, you really need to be more careful. But you still haven’t said what this is all about…”
I look around and there is still no one close by, so I say, “It is a long story, but I am exploring my feminine side…for my new girlfriend…”
She lets out a little scream, gives me one of those jumpy-girly hugs, and asks, “You are joining us girls? That is awesome! But why the secret, then? I would love to help!”
I sigh and say, “Look, it is all just…an experiment… I don’t know that it is something that I will stick with… I…I…” I start crying…I can’t help it.
She squeezes me tighter and asks, “So, THIS is so not you. We may not have been close friends over the last years, but I still know you, Gerry McIntosh! What’s up?”
I shake my head and sniffle as I let slip, “I…i…it’s the hormones…”
She lets out another little scream and asks, “Hormones? As in estrogen? Really? That seems like a lot more than an experiment!”
I look at her in horror and say, “Shhhh! Can we please just keep this between us, Jenn? Please? I shouldn’t have said anything about that!”
She smiles with a gleam in her eye and says, “Sure, on one condition…”
I barely make it to my next class on time. I am in a panic and look around at everyone, thinking, ”They know! They are going to laugh at me!” Jennifer’s ‘condition’ had been that I had to let her put a ‘light coat’ of mascara on me. I had resisted, but I couldn’t dissuade her…she is as tenacious as ever.
No one looks—or laughs, though. I quickly sit and make sure that my sweater doesn’t ride up to show either my lace or my butterfly. I kick myself for the millionth time today for my poor choice in clothing. And, now, I can’t help notice my eyelashes—the thickness is increased just enough that I notice them every time I blink.
Thankfully, class quickly goes by and I rush to the bathroom as soon as the bell rings. I look at myself in the mirror. I can clearly see the mascara; but, even so, I can tell that no one will likely notice it, any more than my clothes, unless they are really looking for. I am still worried that I quickly getting to that point of the straw that broke the camel’s back, though—how much more can be layered on before it becomes really noticeable. I was just lucky that it was Jennifer that had noticed my last mistake… Well, I guess it was luck—thanks to her, I am now sporting another ‘layer’ of ‘straw’...
I exit the bathroom and, once again, make it to the next class just as the bell rings. And so the morning passes.
I enter the cafeteria at lunchtime and quickly move through the line. I walk to my usual table; the one where I normally sit with Dan. I sit down, alone; dreading the solitude. To my utter surprise, Jennifer sees me and comes over.
She nods at a seat and asks, “Do you mind if I sit?”
My mouth full of sandwich, I simply shrug and she sits. After I swallow, I ask in worried, but quiet tone, “You haven’t said anything, right?”
She smiles and gets another of those gleams in her that I am beginning to remember all too well, and says, “No…and I won’t, as long as you let me refresh your mascara…and add a little lip gloss after lunch.”
I grimace and ask, “Why the blackmail, Jenn? What did I do to you?”
She giggles and says, “It is not blackmail, Gerry. It is just me helping you loosen up. It seems you need a little help in that department. So…want to tell me who your girlfriend is?” She smiles and takes a dainty bite of her sandwich and looks at me in anticipation.
I think back to years before, when the two of us had been much closer. She lives two houses down and the house in between is old Mrs. Marvel’s and she has no kids; as a matter of fact, we were the only kids on our block when we were in grade school. We had become friends back then, even though, even at that age, she was a true girly-girl—and I was, well, a bit of the more rambunctious type. Of course, as we aged, we ultimately joined more ‘compatible’ cliques at school and had sort of grown apart. We had only really seen each on the bus and even that changed when she turned sixteen and got her own car.
I pull myself out of my reverie, because it is clear that she is still waiting for answer. I sigh and say, “OK, I can see you haven’t changed any over the years. You’re still as tenacious as ever!” She giggles and I continue, “My girlfriend is Vicki Langdon. You probably don’t know her; she didn’t go to school here…”
She looks at me pensively and asks, “Langdon? Any relation to Sherri Langdon?”
I shake my head and ask, “What is it with girls and Dr. Langdon? Yes, she is Sherri’s daughter. She is the one that is monitoring my…medication.” I look around to make sure we are not being overheard. Thankfully, there are several empty tables between us and anyone else.
Jenn grins and winks as she says, “You go, girl! That is quite the catch. I think I may be jealous. Does she have any brothers?” She giggles.
I look at Jenn and motion for her to be quiet. Then, I have to ask, “Jenn, don’t take this the wrong way. But why are we even having this conversation? I mean it is great to talk to you again, but…?”
She sighs and says, “I don’t really know. It is just sort of like when I talked to you today that I realized again that I really missed hanging out with you. I always did…just never in a romantic way… I always felt like I could tell my deepest secrets; then, well parental and peer pressures pushed us apart. I can still hear everyone saying it is ‘not appropriate’ for a boy and a girl to be best friends… I never understood it, and I am ashamed that I gave into it. But, do you want me to leave? I…I…will keep your secret, either way… I promise.”
I take her hand and say, “I didn’t mean it that way, Jenn. I have missed our talks, too. And it is great having someone besides my Mom that I can talk to about some of this; you know, besides Vicki, of course. It is just that Vicki is so intense about this…experiment. And Mom is totally adamant that I follow through with the promise I made Vicki. It is all a bit overwhelming.”
Jennifer smiles at me and asks, “Would you like to do homework together after school?”
I laugh and say, “That would be awesome! But don’t you have, like…other groupies you would rather hang out with?”
She giggles and says, “Silly! Meet me at my car after class.”
I find Jenn’s car in the parking lot after my last class, just where she said it would be. I look at it and smile. It is the same Honda that she has had since she was sixteen, which is not surprising. Because of an unfortunate birthdate, Jennifer is among the oldest in our class and is already nineteen—so that makes the car only three years old. It was new when she got and it is a nice, basic car. It is also still in perfect condition and every bit as girly as she is. Jenn’s parents are like my Mom—well enough off, but not ‘rich’ by any means. Upper-middle class is the description most often used for families like ours. It is not likely that Jenn will be getting a new car anytime soon. I laugh to myself and think, ”At least she has one!”
I only have to wait about five minutes until I see Jennifer coming towards the parking lot surrounded by a posse of her normal crowd. They all hug in that girly way they have and then Jenn breaks off from the group and comes over to her car.
She smiles and says, “Good! You found it. Ready?” She pushes the button her little remote and unlocks the car, then opens her door.
I smile and nod and we get in. Eight minutes later, she is parked in our driveway, but so that she won’t block Mom if and when she comes home and Jenn is still here.
We go inside and Jenn smiles and says, “This brings back memories! I haven’t been in here in…”
I finish, “About five years… Would you like a drink? You still like Diet Coke?”
She giggles and nods and we go into the kitchen and unload our stuff onto the table. I get us two diets and we sit and just chill for a couple of minutes, letting the caffeine work its magic. Then Jenn, ever the practical one, insists we finish our homework before we talk.
Together, we quickly knock out the homework—helping each other along the way. I laugh when we are done in about fifty minutes—a likely hour or two quicker than if I had been doing it alone. I say, “I could get used to this!”
She giggles and nods, then says, “Tomorrow at my house! Now, spill… I want the WHOLE story!”
I sigh and get us two new diets and we go into the living room to sit. Before I can start, though, she digs into her purse and says, “While you are spilling, I am going to make good on your promise to let me finish your makeup ‘after lunch’. I never got to at school…”
I blush and decide to just let it go for now. I resign myself to whatever and she busies herself with mascara and pencils and little brushes… I give her the short, but accurate version of how I got where I am.
She is done messing with my face, well my eyes and lips, well before I am finished and sits there paying rapt attention. When I am done, she simply asks, “So, you don’t really want to be a girl? You are simply doing this to be with Vicki? Don’t you think that is, well…shallow—even selfish?”
I laugh and say, “Wow! You don’t pull your punches, do you?”
She is serious and says, “That is what GOOD friends are for. You are taking HORMONES for goodness’ sake! I can’t believe that is what Vicki wants—if that is not what YOU want. From what you are saying, she likes you for you…this…other….is just a bonus. So, why do it? You really DO have a lot to learn about girls; if she is only doing this because of what you are lying to her about, then she is not worth it—no matter HOW beautiful she is on the outside. And I don’t believe that is what she is about…”
I flash a bit of anger and say, “Look, Jenn. I appreciate your honesty and all, but…” And I feel tears coming on…I can’t seem to get a hold of my emotions. I fight hard and keep the tears from flowing and say, “Damned hormones!” We both laugh and the tension is gone…
I sigh and say, “Look. I did not enter into this because I want to be a girl—and, yes, it may have been for all the wrong reasons. But, I did enter into it voluntarily. After my ‘heart-to-heart’ with Mom, I can also say with good conscious that I intend to give the next three months an honest effort. You yourself just said that I have a lot to learn about girls, so this is my chance. I have no idea where I will come out after that time; it is HIGHLY unlikely that I will magically want to be a girl. But, I can say that I have already noticed some of the perks…the clothes feel amazing!”
She picks up a throw-pillow and smacks my arm with it. She says, “You are such a shallow jerk!” But she says it with enough of a smile that I know she is kidding—mostly. Then she adds, “Well, since you are all about learning more about being one of us, I am going to start treating you like one of us, too! Don’t worry, I understand your true motives—as does your Mother, I suspect. Poor Vicki is the one that will suffer if this all goes wrong. I want you to be honest with me, though, at the end of the day. I am not a shrink—I am sure Dr. Langdon will ensure you are hooked up with one; and somehow I get the feeling you will not be telling the whole truth to them… So, I will try and help you understand the things that you will likely tell everyone else you love, but you secretly hate, or just don’t get… I can also help coach and mentor you in some things. In case you haven’t noticed, I am all about being a girl!” She giggles and gets another of those gleams in her eye as she says, “In return, I get to keep pushing the envelope at school with you. Deal?”
I feel a little dizzy—this just got a whole lot more complicated. But, I realize she is right… I think, ”I DO need someone that I can be completely honest with—I just hope that I really CAN trust her.” Finally, I just nod and say, “Deal…I guess; but, do we have to do the school thing? Really?”
At that moment, the door to the garage opens and Mom enters the kitchen. I hear her call out, “Deirdre, do we have company?”
Jennifer gets a wicked gleam in her eye and asks, “Deirdre?”
The implications of that simple word uttered by Jenn are devastating…
I groan—I had intentionally kept that tidbit to myself… I sink back into the coach and have to fight off a sudden onslaught of tears… I am semi-successful.
As Mom comes in, Jenn whispers, “I think it is a good thing that I used waterproof mascara, Deirdre!”
Mom looks at the two of us and says, “Jennifer? I thought that was your car! It is great to see you here…” Her voice trails off as she sees me and she blinks in surprise…
Of course, I haven’t seen what she has done to my face; but from the look on Mom’s face, I must look like a clown, or something.
She finally gets her voice back and says, “Ger… Deirdre, you look…beautiful! I never would have imagined… What made you decide to…?”
Jennifer speaks up and says, “Hi, Mrs. M…it was my idea. I hope you don’t mind…I didn’t really have the right cosmetics, but I did the best with what I had…”
Mom goes over and hugs Jennifer and says, “Hon! It looks wonderful! It was just a surprise is all… We just need to do something with the hair…”
I say, “What is all of the fuss about? I mean, Jenn sort of blackmailed me into this… Maybe I had better go see for myself! It was NOT my idea!”
Jenn says, “The hair… Hmmm… Mrs. M, you don’t have any hair gel, or better putty, do you?”
Mom just nods and says, “Hold on. I will be right back.”
While she goes upstairs, Jenn starts brushing my fairly short hair with a brush she pulls out of her purse.
Mom comes back down in a couple of minutes with the tube of something. Jenn takes it and squeezes some out in her hand, then spreads it onto both hands, and starts playing with my hair. After a minute, or so, Mom says, “Jenn! That is perfect!”
I look at them both wondering again what the fuss is about. I get up and hurry into the downstairs bathroom before either of them can say anything else and nearly have a heart attack when I see myself in the mirror. I don’t see a ‘Gerry’ at all…there is no doubt that a ‘Deirdre’ is looking back at me—and she is pretty hot. Of course, she has the same issues as Gerry…about twenty too many pounds…
I sigh and turn off the light. When I get back to the living room, Mom and Jenn are in a girly zone, talking about things I have no comprehension of…makeup. Jenn is talking about how she did whatever it is she did to my eyelids… I remember seeing them in the mirror…it was wild how they just drew ALL the attention to my eyes… Just like hers do on her own face.
Mom looks at Jenn and asks, “Jenn, would you like to eat with us? I am thinking we can go to TGIF at the mall…maybe do a bit of shopping after that?”
Jenn smiles and says, “Sure, that sounds awesome, Mrs…Claudia… We can go to Yuengling’s, the store that I work at on the weekends—I get a discount there!”
I look at the two of them, totally lost. I ask myself, ”Since when does Mom let my friends call her Claudia? Weird!”
I look at them and ask, “Err…if we are going out, how do I get this stuff off of my face?”
Mom laughs and says, “You don’t, silly! Why would you want to ruin that perfectly good makeover? Come on so we can beat the crowd! But before we go, you really need to put on your heels… You need the practice; I am surprised that you didn’t put them on when you got home!”
Jenn’s eyebrows go up at that, but she just grins as I start to put up a fuss. Mom, however, makes it clear that we don’t have time to argue and that I need to hurry up. I just give up and go to my room to grab the heels Mom had bought me and get in the car thinking I am going to die of embarrassment.
Mom and Jenn just keep talking the whole way about more stuff I have no idea about…now, it is all about purses—Coach and Louis Vooton, or something like that…
I just sort of ignore them and reluctantly change out of my sports shoes and into the heels. Thankfully, I had also remembered to grab some of the knee-high stockings that Mom had made me get, since the socks I am wearing would not work in the heels. After I change shoes, I think about what I have gotten myself into THIS time. Compared to Mom and Jenn, I am underdressed in my designer jeans and sweater. Mom is still in her business casual outfit, not a suit, but still very nice clothes. Jenn, as always, is in a dress. Both of them are wearing heels at least an inch higher than the ones I have to wear—but this is my first time wearing them, other than trying them on. This should be fun—NOT!
We get out at the mall at what seems at least a mile from the restaurant. I think Mom did it on purpose to make me walk more. My first several steps are very wobbly and I really think I am going to break an ankle. To their credit, neither Mom nor Jenn laugh—they just start showing me how to navigate the heels. They have me walk in and out of between the cars, around them, and in figure eights; placing one foot in front of the other; heel-toe, heel-toe, heel toe... It is strange hearing the click-clacking of ‘my’ heels on the concrete.
By the time we get to the mall entrance, I am clicking pretty much in unison with them and don’t think I look like a TOTAL dork—well, walking anyway. I am still sure that people will start pointing fingers and laughing at me any minute.
To my surprise, no one makes fun of me, or stares at me—not even as we wait to be seated at the restaurant. We follow the hostess to our table: I am still self-consciously looking around. The hostess, Mandy, hands us our menus and says, “Grace will be your server. Enjoy your meal, ladies!” Thankfully, it is dark enough in the restaurant that no one can see me blush.
Mom starts a new thing when I am picking my meal. She gives me a stare and says, “Hon, I think it best if you stick with a low-cal salad. If you thought you had problems with your weight before, just wait…female hormones are murder…”
I sigh and pick out a small salad and a cup of soup…
After we eat, it is out into the mall. Mom and Jenn make me walk up and down the entire length of the mall three times to continue practicing walking in the heels, then we go to Yuengling’s.
Jennifer takes us straight to the makeup counter and greets the young girl working there, “Hi, Britt! Meet Deirdre and her mom, Mrs. McIntosh. They would both like a complete consult and then anything they buy will be on my discount, OK? If you want, I can do Mrs. M., if you want to do Deirdre?”
Britt smiles and says, “Hi Deirdre, hi Mrs. McIntosh! That sounds great! Yes, Jenn, I’ll do Deirdre if you want to do her Mom.”
Before I know what has hit me, I am in a chair and Britt is wiping off my face with makeup remover towelettes. Then she starts doing little trials with different colored liquids to match my skin tone. Once she has settled on the right tone, she goes to work reapplying everything, explaining every step and showing me in the mirror. I want to ignore what she is doing, but I can’t—for two reasons. First, Mom is sitting there with Jenn doing her…and she is watching me. Second, in spite of myself, I am fascinated by what she is doing to me. I thought Jenn had miraculously made me look like a girl before; what Britt is doing with the ‘right’ makeup now makes what Jenn had done look like a petty attempt.
I stare at myself in the mirror when she is done and whisper, “Wow! Look at me…”
Britt says, “Yes, you’re really lovely. You have a nice complexion to begin with, so that helps. Now, this is an evening look, like you would normally wear when out in the mall at this time of night; you know, like you currently are. Of course, you should use much less at school—or at work—during the day.”
I look over at Mom and she looks HOT when Jenn is done with her. She pulls out her credit card and says, “We will take the complete package for both of us!” She pays the over two hundred dollars for the cosmetics without blinking; I have no idea what it would have cost without Jenn’s discount…
When we start walking up and down the mall again, I say, “Mom, that was a lot of money to spend on something I may not really ever use.”
Mom looks at me and says, “Oh, but I fully expect you, when Deirdre, to wear makeup like any girl your age should. I am sure that Jennifer will be happy to give you lessons—she is a master at it. Just look at me! I haven’t felt this pretty in years! And you, well, Hon, you look amazing… I wondered about this ‘endeavor’, at first, but you are lovely… I am glad that you are getting to experience being a girl. It is not easy being one, but it does have its merits.”
Jennifer giggles at that and says, “Of course I will teach you makeup skills, Dee… It will be just like we are sisters! And you are very pretty, Mrs. M.”
As I listen to the two of them, I get this sinking feeling that they are both as into this as Vicki, now. I am beginning to wonder if I will ever get to really see Gerry again…other than my little window at school; a window that is becoming smaller and smaller with every minute, it seems…
I look at Jenn and ask, “Dee? Where did that come from?”
Mom says, “I love it! That is what your great-grandmother was called in her younger years, too. I used to call her Grandma Dee.” She smiles at the memories that seems to conjure up for her.
Jenn just giggles and says, “It just seems to fit you… And you DO call me ‘Jenn’…”
I roll my eyes and feel like I just fell deeper into the rabbit hole. Now I have a girl’s nickname… That just seems to cement it all the more…
I get up the next morning and go into my bathroom; I am momentarily startled to see all of the new cosmetics on my vanity; then I remember the events of yesterday. I notice that I am starting to really feel different; I can’t explain it. I just feel different. I do seem to be getting better control of my emotions now, so maybe it is just that my hormones are leveling out. I wonder if this is what a girl feels like? I can’t say it is either good or bad; well, it is not bad—so I guess I just can’t say whether it better or worse…
I get into the shower, again shocked when I see my butt in the mirror as I climb in. I am still not used to the butterfly on it. I quickly finish the shower and hurry to my room to get dressed. I look in my closet and see that Mom has really done what she said she would—she has removed anything that is not a girl’s piece of clothing. That doesn’t mean that I necessarily have to look girly with what I have available, but I have no choice but to feel that way.
I put on a pair of designer jeans and again find myself loving the soft, stretchy feel, in spite of myself. I look in the mirror and know that guy’s jeans aren’t cut this way. These sit lower on my hips and are tighter in the thighs, well in the legs, in general—but they could pass as a guy’s skinny jeans, I guess. I put on a white camisole, then a camel sweater, making sure my undies’ lace is all covered up. I finish it all up with white socks and sports shoes, both of which are girl’s, but not really girly…
I sigh that the pockets in the jeans won’t really hold anything and stick my stuff in my messenger bag. I go downstairs and grab a breakfast bar and leave the house, locking the door behind me; Mom has already left for work. I walk down the street to Jenn’s house. She opens the door and tells me to come in. Her parents have both left for work, too.
She has me sit down and says, “OK, Dee. I am going to do some light makeup. No one is going to know; I promise. Only you will—well, and me…” She giggles and puts a light coat of mascara on my lashes and some light pink gloss on my lips.
She says, “We will ramp it up every few days…I wager that no one will ever really notice it, since it will be so gradual.”
I sigh and look in the mirror. She is right. It is not really visible, but I absolutely know it is there and that is a weird feeling… What is weirder, is that I sort of miss the look from last night… I look so…plain, right now. I shake my head at my own thoughts and we get ready to go.
We get into Jenn’s car and she drives us to school. And so, the second day of school for the week starts. It is much the same as yesterday—only today is even less of a problem with my little guy. I am constantly worried that someone will notice my clothes or the makeup. If anyone does, they don’t say anything. Since I doubt most anyone in high school wouldn’t not say anything about it, I am pretty sure no one notices.
Also, since Dan is not here to buddy up with, I find myself being more included in Jenn’s clique as the day progresses. This feels strange, since, of course, it is a bunch of girly-girls, but Jenn somehow has convinced them to accept me; although, I am sure some of THEM probably notice some of my ‘choices’ and don’t say anything…
At lunch, I am at Jenn’s table and I look over at my normal table as the girls talk about the things that girls talk about. I pull my phone out of my bag and send Dan’s mom a text. She sends back that there is no news—and no improvement. She tells me I am welcome to stop by, but that it is so depressing that it is probably better if I don’t, at the moment.
I am bummed the rest of the day in class. I am still in such a funk when Jenn is driving us home that I don’t even notice her stop at the mall. She pulls a bag out from the back seat and hands it to me. I give her a funny look and peek inside. I see a pair of heels, higher than the ones from yesterday, and several containers of makeup. She quickly ‘fixes’ my face and says that we will practice that later. Then she makes me put on the heels and go into the mall with her.
In spite of the inch higher heel, I really don’t have a lot of problem after yesterday. We walk for about an hour with her giving me pointers on how turn or go up and down stairs. Not only am I getting practice on walking in heels, but she is making us walk fast…it is a lot of exercise, too…
From there, we go home, do our homework, and she gives me a makeup lesson.
And so, the week continues. The same routine every day. By Friday morning, I am wearing eyeliner along with heavier (but not really heavy) mascara to school. The eyeliner is a very thin line, but it is there. As of the Thursday ‘mall-walk’, I can easily navigate five-inch heels and can also do a pretty decent job of putting on my own make up. My little guy—he is now as limp as a wet noodle; he is not causing me any problems with tucking, at all. Oh, I have also lost a total of five pounds.
I look at Jenn like she is crazy. It is after school on Friday and I am home getting ready for my date with Vicki.
Jenn laughs and says, “Dee, you look positively stunning with your makeup; you did an awesome job! Vicki is going to love it! So, why not go all the way and wear the dress and heels? I promise you that she will love you for it!”
I give her a pointed look and say, “A dress? Really? I don’t know… I mean… OK, I can navigate the heels, but there is so much more to think about with a dress…”
Jenn giggles and says, “Yes, there is! And we have practiced it enough that I think you will be fine. It is not second nature for you yet, but you are really good in the heels, so you won’t have to worry about tripping…just make sure you sweep your skirt before you sit—and you get in and out of the car correctly; like we have practiced.”
I sigh and say, “I only practiced those things because you blackmailed me. I wasn’t doing it to actually go out! Jenn, am I making a mistake doing this? I mean…I don’t really see myself as a girl…”
Jenn gives me ‘the look’ and says, “Dee, if you did not have a lot of girl in you, you would not have made the progress you have this week. I don’t care what you say, you like wearing makeup. I can tell by how you put it on. The way you have started opening up and talking to the other girls at lunch about girly things. The attitude you have in heels… Are you really going to try and tell me I am wrong? You can pretend to protest to others—I have known you too long…”
I blush bright red. I am sure it even shows through my makeup. I quietly pick up a dress and ask, “Which one?”
I look at Jenn and she smiles and nods. I open the door and see Vicki standing there. The look on her face when she sees me is priceless. I am standing there in a short emerald-green dress and four-and-a-half-inch stiletto heels. I am fully made up and have dangly diamond earrings in my holes. I have a shoulder-length red wig on (it is one of Mom’s old ones that she dug out of who knows where…). Even I know I look pretty stunning. I also look a lot like an old picture of my Mom I have in an album in my room—back from when she was about my age.
Vicki stutters, “Gerri…err..Deirdre? Is that you? O…M…G…! You look stunning!”
I say, “Thank you, Love. Are you coming in? I would like you to meet someone that is like a sister to me and is mostly responsible for this look… Vicki, meet Jenn. Jenn, Vicki.”
They both greet each and I can feel Vicki’s eyes still glued to me. I giggle, “You need to leave this dress on me. I can feel you undressing me with your eyes! It was hard enough for Jenn to convince me to put it on! If you take it off, I may not put it back on!”
Vicki says, “Jenn, how did you do it? She looks awesome! I mean, the difference a week makes…”
Jenn giggles and says, “The power of a sister. Our Mom’s made us honorary sisters with as much time as we have been spending together this week. We used to be best friends a long time ago and let…peer pressure push us apart. We won’t do that again. Anyway, you two better be going. I don’t want to mess up your date!”
Vicki shakes her head and says, “I talked to Dan’s mom and she said it is OK if we stop by the hospital for a few minutes. You are in the same class, right Jenn? Would you like to come along?”
Jenn shakes her head and says, “No…I…don’t think I could take that. Please tell Mrs. Vogel that I am praying for Dan and for them both, as well, every night. I really need to go home and take care of some things. I will see you on Monday, Dee.”
I go and give her one of the hugs that I not so long ago described as ‘girly’, but now is starting to become almost second nature to me with Jenn and the other girls in our clique.”
Vicki gives Jenn a hug of her own and whispers something in her ear that I can’t hear. Then we all leave the house. Jennifer walks over to her house and Vicki and I get into her car. I remember to sit and swivel with my legs together as Jenn taught me. I can tell Vicki is impressed.
Twenty minutes later, we are at the hospital. We are about to get out when I gasp and say, “Vicki! I can’t go up there like this! Mrs. Vogel doesn’t know…”
Vicki says, “Don’t worry, Dee. I like that…’Dee’! Anyway, sooner or later she is going to find out. I am here with you. I think she will be OK—you’ll see.”
She holds my hand. My heart is racing—this is the first time I will actually meet someone as ‘Dee’ that only knows me as Gerry. I really wish the circumstances were better.
We exit the elevator and Vicki holds my hand as we click-clack our way up the hall to the same room that we had waited with the Vogels in before. We walk in and I see Dan’s mom sitting in a chair in the corner. She looks haggard and very worried. She also looks very confused when we walk up to her.
I say, “Mrs. Vogel? I know you must be confused, but it is me, Gerry… I will explain in a minute, but…how is Dan? Any improvement?”
The look on her face turns from confused to stunned. She shakes her head and says, “No, nothing. They still don’t know why. He is still unresponsive, although, he is breathing on his own. There is just no explanation for the coma. His Dad is in with him—we take turns…”
I fight back the tears. I am getting better at that. But I still have to carefully wipe one away. I say, “I wish there was something I could do…” I sigh and continue, “I know you are confused about how I look. I…am experimenting with my feminine side. Seeing what it is like to be a girl. It is hard to explain…”
Mrs. Vogel smiles and says, “I see. Well, I think it is laudable to seek to better understand the other side. I will have to say that the way you look, I am not sure it really is the other side, though?”
She leaves it as a question and I feel the blush that I hope she can’t see. I giggle a little and say, “I don’t know. It is only really my first full week of…deeper…exploration. I will say that it is not exactly what I expected, but it is not bad—at least not yet… Your reaction helps, too. I was really worried about what you might think.”
She smiles; this time the smile reaches her eyes, and she says, “Well, Gerry, you know that I am open-minded. I am sure that you will find some that are not, but I am equally sure that you can handle it. You also seem to have a lot of support with your girlfriend, here. You look out for…her…, Vicki, you understand? This is a very special person…and a very good friend to my son.”
Vicki smiles and says, “Don’t worry, Mrs. Vogel. I am not the only one looking out for Dee. She has a lot of good people on her side. I am happy that you are one of them!”
We walk back out to the car after giving Mrs. Vogel hugs of encouragement. I pull down the visor and check my mascara in the little mirror on the back, knowing that it probably needs some help after the tears I shed as we all hugged.
Vicki looks at me confidently fixing the damage and says, “Wow! You look like you have done that all of your life!”
I almost giggle, but am still bummed by the overall situation, and only say, “Jenn is a great teacher…and taskmaster. Trust me, I think I have had a lifetime of practice over the last week. She wants to get into cosmetology; maybe even more permanent cosmetic procedures. Either permanent makeup and such, or actual cosmetic surgery. She is not really sure yet…” I finish fixing my eyes and flip up the visor just as we pull into the parking lot of a very nice restaurant.
By the time we are done eating my mood is better. Vicki asks, “Are you OK stopping by my parents before we go to my apartment?”
I look at her and shrug, “I guess. Any special reason?”
Vicki giggles and says, “Nothing in particular. Just a quick glass of wine and some schmoozing… It is expected in our family…”
Fifteen minutes later, Vicki parks in the Langdon’s drive. My mind is blown away by the size and grandeur of the place. We click-clack our way to the front door of the mansion and I am really nervous. The door is opened by a butler before we even reach the top of the steps. I take a surprised breath; I didn’t know there still was such a thing—at least not in this country.
Vicki leads me in as she smiles at the butler. I am really self-conscious of the clicking my heels make on the highly polished marble of the grand entrance.
The butler says, “The parents are in the red parlor, Miss Vicki.”
She smiles again and says, “Thank you, Rawlings!”
I meekly follow her towards a door…now, I know I am somewhere deep down the rabbit hole…
Vicki goes through a set of ornate doors and into a sitting room right out of the ‘Sound of Music’. It is odd to see her Dad in this setting—her Mom seems to be a better fit; but this is still all pretty alien to me.
Her Dad gets up, comes over and gives Vicki a hug. He gives me a bit of a surprised look—and then hugs me in the same way, as well. In the meantime, Vicki has gone over to her mom and given her a kiss on the cheek. I just say, “Hi, Dr. Langdon. It is great to see you again.”
She smiles at me and says, “Deirdre, you look wonderful! I see you are making great progress! But, why don’t you call me Sherri? Please sit! Mary, I am sure that Vicki will have her usual. Deirdre? Red wine? Something else?”
I nearly jump as a maid comes in out of nowhere and pours Vicki a glass of her signature wine. I merely nod and say, “Umm, red is fine. Thank you.”
Mr. Langdon looks over me and says, “Well, of course you need to call me Bill. How is your tattoo doing? Still liking it, I hope!”
I nearly choke on my wine, but keep my composure and say, “Yes sir…Bill… It is very lovely and it is completely healed. I have to admit; it still shocks me if I just catch a glimpse of it in the mirror without thinking about it.”
He laughs and Vicki and Sherri giggle. He says, “Yes, it does take a bit for it to become a ‘normal’ part of you. Soon enough, it will be as common-day as your lipstick or long nails.”
Sherri speaks up and says, “Speaking of lipstick and nails… Who did your makeup, Dear? It is divine!”
Vicki speaks up and says, “Her best friend, Jenn, showed her how, Mom. She has been practicing all week. She did this herself! Can you believe it?”
I blush profusely.
Sherri looks impressed and thoughtful as she says, “Yes. It is very impressive how much you have learned in just a week. You are a natural in those heels, too.”
Vicki says, “Mom, Dee’s friend, Jennifer, wants to either get into permanent cosmetology or even cosmetic surgery. She hasn’t asked, but do you think…?”
Sherri nods and says, “Of course, if she wants. I think that would be a very nice thing for us to do. Also, invite her along with the two of you tomorrow to the spa. My treat!”
We chat for over an hour about various things and Mary pours us all drink after drink. I am still very self-conscious about the environment and my presentation. Jenn—and Mom—had pounded a lot of things into me this last week, but, none of it comes anywhere close to being natural to me; except for walking in the heels, I guess. I have to concentrate on keeping my legs together; sitting up straight; and dozens of other things that I need to do to not make a fool of myself in this outfit.
After we are on our third glass of wine, Sherri says, “Dee, I had lunch with your mother today, did she mention it to you?”
I shake my head, “No, I haven’t seen her today. I left before she got home from work.”
Sherri says, “We had a nice talk about lots of things, including you. She is very proud of the progress you are making in your experiment. Like I said, I am very impressed, too. Yes, you still need a lot of practice—but, I can tell you are giving it a good-faith effort. Even here tonight, you are laser-focused on proper presentation. I also can tell that you have lost, what, five pounds?”
I give her a surprised look and nod.
She giggles and says, “Love, I AM a cosmetic surgeon. I can tell these things! All of that has taken a lot of commitment and I am fully convinced now that you are sincere in seeing this through. I know from your mother that you have a week off from school in two weeks. I am offering you some free cosmetic enhancement services during that week—if you would like them. We can discuss them more later, but I am thinking some lipo, maybe some facial work… Looking at you in that dress, and this is more radical, but still IS reversible, I am thinking we could even do a bust enhancement—that way you could wear a wider variety of dresses. Of course, you could use glue-on breast-forms, but you just won’t get the same experience from that…”
I know my eyes get wider with every item she adds to the list. My head is swimming—and not just from the wine. I say, “That is very kind of you, …Sherri. I…I…I don’t know what to say. I mean…”
Vicki takes my hand and says, “I think the proper word is ‘yes’, Love! Like Mom said, you can talk about details later…”
I numbly nod, thinking, ”A boob-job? Well, that CAN be reversed…I guess… But…REALLY?” I finally say, “OK, thank you, Sherri. I would love the lipo. I have been fighting this waist forever. As for the other, don’t you think it is a bit premature?”
Sherri looks at me and says, “No; looking at you, I think it is a natural progression of where you are at. It is completely up to you what and how much you want done. The lipo is, of course, permanent. Some things that are done to the face are semi-permanent, some could be more permanent. Breast enhancements are completely reversible… Like I said on the breasts, it may seem a little radical, but you would be surprised at the number I put in, only to take back out several months later. It really IS more realistic than breast forms ever can be… But, let’s not talk about that anymore for now. Think on it—I just need to know by early next week whether to book you in and for how long.”
Bill speaks up and says, “Now, you girls have had way too much to drink to be driving anywhere. I am afraid I am going to have to take your keys, Vicks… You can both sleep here, tonight.”
Sherri nods and says, “You can just go in with me tomorrow… Vicki, you need to invite Jennifer before it gets too late. Mary! We need some more drinks!”
I wake up in a strange bed the next morning. I look around the room that looks like it should belong to a princess and remember where I am. Unfortunately, not in bed with Vicki; but her parents were clear that we have to be at LEAST engaged to sleep together here—I am sure they know that we do so at Vicki’s apartment, though—and seem OK with that.
I stretch and marvel that I feel so good after all of the wine last night. I expected a headache, or something… It is likely all of the water that Vicki made me drink before going to bed… And, with that thought, I realize that I have to pee really bad!
I hurry into the attached bathroom and relieve myself. I am just finishing up when I hear a knock on the door and Vicki comes into the bedroom.
She smiles when she sees me and asks, “How did you sleep?”
I smile and say, “Like a Princess!” It doesn’t even register that I had, without a thought, just portrayed myself as a girl at that moment. I ask, “Just how much money DO your parents have?”
Vicki giggles and says, “I have no idea. There is some old family money on my Dad’s side that they used for seed…the majority is what they, mostly Mom, have earned. Let’s just say they are not hurting!”
I laugh and say, “No duh!”
Vicki giggles and says, “Feel free to take a shower. Go light on the makeup this morning, we are getting a full facial today. Breakfast is in forty-five minutes!”
After my shower, I get ready, using just eyeliner for the ‘soft, daytime look’ that Jenn taught me. I add some semi-heavy mascara and pink lip gloss. When we are both ready, I follow Vicki down the back stairs to the dining room.
Breakfast is a pretty formal affair with the servants and all; I guess I should have expected it after last night. I stick to mostly low-fat yogurt and fresh fruit—as do Vicki and Sherri. Bill has a full breakfast, though—eggs, bacon, grits, toast…the works.
When we are done, Sherri, Vicki, and I go to the Spa/Clinic and find Jenn waiting for us. Vicki introduces Jenn to her Mom and we go in.
As we are entering, Sherri looks at Jenn and says, “I understand that you are the young lady that has taught Dee how to do her makeup? And that you work at the mall on the weekends and other times that school allows? And that you are interested in cosmetic enhancements?”
Jenn blushes a bit and says, “Yes, Ma’am. I hope to be able to work in a place like this someday—or run one.”
Sherri smiles and says, “I like a girl that knows what she wants. Can you start here in two weeks? I want to give you time to give your current employer sufficient notice. Of course, we will work with your schedule. School comes first!”
I can tell that Jenn is stunned. She nods, then breaks out into a HUGE smile and says, “Oh! Yes! Really?! Oh, thank you! Yes, I will be here!”
We go in and Vicki pulls me into the Spa’s changing room, while Sherri talks to Jenn for a few more minutes. We both change into one of the luxuriously soft, pink robes and wait for Jenn to catch up to us.
She is grinning like the Cheshire Cat when she comes in. She is absolutely giddy and can’t seem to shut up as she changes into a robe of her own, “Can you believe it? I am going to intern at Sherri Langdon’s clinic and spa!”
We both just grin and Vicki says, “Congratulations, Jenn! I know you will do well!”
From there, we enter into that feminine world of pampering that is a little less alien to me this week than last—but, I still wonder what I am doing here…and why I seem to enjoy the pampering so much. Not just pampering, but feminine pampering. This week, we get a full facial and when Christy, my technician, is done, I feel completely relaxed. My face is as smooth as silk…and that doesn’t even seem strange to me.
We then get our mani-pedis. Jenn and Vicki try and talk me into extensions, but I am firm that I don’t want those—there is no way that I can hide those at school. I do relent to let Christy leave my nails at their current natural length, though. Now that they have grown, uncut, for nearly three weeks, they are actually pretty long for a guy and they will be hard enough to hide, as it is. Christy shapes them and removes the cuticle like last week, and that adds another dimension of feminine to them that I will be self-conscious of all week at school. Finally, she adds clear, then soft ‘neutral’ pink, and more clear coats to them, hardening each under a UV light. When she is done, I have longer nails than I have ever had. The pink is not really that noticeable, but together with the length and shape… I sigh, knowing that this gel-stuff won’t come off…and that I had OK’ed it. I will just have to be careful at school.
What happens next is the next big fork in the road of my commitment. First, the hormones and then the discussion last night. I don’t count the tattoo, since I had no idea what Vicki had planned. I did commit to the hormones, but with the knowledge that the effects will be reversible. I am still on the fence on anything but the liposuction on the ‘cosmetic enhancement’ piece. Well, there are my earrings, but lots of guys have those…and I can just take them out and let the holes grow closed.
It all starts when Julie, Vicki’s technician starts her next line of inquiry. She looks at Vicki and asks, “So…are you finally going to let me do your makeup right? Your Mom has OK’ed it, again, of course. She even said you could do it as a group thing on her! We could start out easy…just eyeliner today? Come on, Vicks, you know you really want to! I have my cart all ready and everything.”
Amber, Jenn’s technician chimes in, “Oh! As a group? THAT would be fun!”
Jenn doesn’t seem the least bit confused, but I am still lost. Little did I know that Sherri had already discussed this with her earlier.
Vicki finally says, “OK, liner only; but on two conditions: Dee and Jenn have to do it, too; and Jenn has to do the design.”
Jenn seems excited and says, “Of course! I am in! Dee?”
I am completely lost. “What are we talking about,” I ask.
Jenn speaks up and says, “I am going to show Christy how to do that soft look on your eyes that you love so much—you know with the eyeliner. I will do a look for Vicki and show Julie, then one for myself and show Amber. Then they will just follow along what I have drawn out once we have the look we like and finish the look. This is awesome! Are you ready? I will do yours first!”
Still confused, I shrug and say, “OK, sure, I guess. You know I love that look you give me…” I blush and say, “Well, you know…for when I DO wear eyeliner…”
Jenn giggles and grabs a pencil. She starts working on my eyes and when she is done I have a soft smoldering look that is mesmerizing. I never can believe these are my eyes when she is done. Even with just the eyeliner, my eyes are so much better defined—but not in-your-face. It is like magic.
She quickly goes to work on Vicki and soon has a look that Vicki just loves. It is more defined than my look and suits her well. I love it, too, and tell her. Her eyes look amazing—even without her usual mascara and shadow. Then Jenn gives herself her own signature look.
Then, Julie pulls out a cart and I finally know what this about when I see what is on it. My heart skips several beats. They want to tattoo this onto our eyes!
My eyes go wide as Christy starts getting her little machine ready. I say, “Wait a minute! I didn’t know that you were talking about doing something permanent! I can’t do that!”
Vicki’s face falls a bit and Jenn seems really disappointed. Jenn says, “Come on, Dee! It is all or none! This is the same look you would have starting this week in school, anyway. Think of the time it will save you in the mornings!”
I look at her and ask, “What do you mean, this is the look I would have in school?”
Jenn says, “You were nearly at this stage anyway… No one has noticed, or said anything as we have added more definition…”
I say, “B…b…but… I can’t go to school as Gerry with eyes like this!”
Jenn shrugs and says, “I don’t see why not. Like I said, it is basically what you wore on Friday. I guess even YOU didn’t notice.”
Vicki says, “Dee, it is up to you. I understand not wanting to commit permanently to a look—I have resisted for years, even though I could have easily had it done. I am ready to go through with it today, though—but only if you do, too.” She waits a few seconds and shrugs, “I guess I will wait, Julie.”
I can hear the disappointment in her voice. I can see the disappointment in Jenn’s eyes. And deep-down, I know I love the look on me…
I sigh and say, “I…I…I will do it, I guess. I know I am going to regret this, though… It is not like I can hide it… Christy, please don’t make me look like a clown!”
Christy giggles and says, “Don’t worry, Doll! I am an expert at applying this type of makeup—and this is just coloring in the lines already drawn for me. I can’t wait until we get to the eyeshadow and lips later!”
Vicki laughs and says, “MUCH later!”
I see Christy come at me with the little machine and wonder again what I am doing! I have a sudden change of heart and am about to tell her to stop—but she has already placed the tip on my eyelid and made the first stroke. It is too late!
I lay there surrounded by the buzzing on the girls on either side of me and that right in front of me. I fight back the tears—both from the pain and the humiliation of what I have agreed to with no one to blame but myself. I lay there and think about why I agreed to this again. And I finally realize that I really DO miss the look of my eyes when I take off my makeup in the evenings. After admitting that to myself, I start to feel better about my choice—but more confused about myself than ever.
All three girls finish their work at nearly the same time. A final wipe of my eyes with a cleaning cloth and Christy lets me sit up and look at myself in the mirror. The look is exactly like Jenn had drawn on my eyes with the pencil—only now, it is here to stay. In spite of my doubts and concerns, I find myself smiling at the look. I say, “Thank you for not making me look like a clown, Christy! I am not sure what people will think when I am in Gerry-mode, though.”
Christy laughs and says, “I wouldn’t worry about it, Hon. I could see the conflict in your eyes while I was doing this. Trust me—there hasn’t been a girl I have done this on that didn’t have that same look. But that smile when you saw yourself tells me that you want this deep-down.”
I look over at Vicki and Jenn; both are looking at themselves in the mirror. The girls had followed Jenn’s outlined look perfectly on them, as well.
Vicki says, “Well, I guess I should have listened to you a long time ago, Julie! This is awesome!”
Julie giggles and says, “No, I am glad you waited. Jenn here hit the look perfectly! I would not have given you that same look and you may have regretted it.”
Jenn blushes and Vicki says, “Yes, I think she will be a huge asset to the staff here when she starts in a couple of weeks.”
All three of the technicians are surprised at that statement and all giggle and go over to hug her and welcome her to the staff. Vicki comes over to me while they are chatting and whispers in my ear, “I will make up not being with you last night tonight, Love. Thank you for doing this with me. I know it was a big step for you!”
I nod, a bit doe-eyed. I look at myself in the mirror again and try and picture Gerry. It is getting harder and harder. I am not sure how I feel about that, but forget about the fleeting concern when Vicki pulls me into a deep kiss right there in front of the others in the room.
I stand in the shower and think about the weekend. It was certainly not what I expected. Saturday night was wonderful after Vicki and I got back to her apartment. At first, I was really worried about the fact that what little erection I still can get takes forever and is too soft to really do much with. Vicki, however, is very inventive…
As I dry off, I think about Mom’s reaction when I came home last night. She was somehow not surprised about what I had allowed to be done to my eyes. She also seems to be very supportive of me being more adventurous with Sherri’s offer in the spirit of a true experience. I know I have to give Sherri an answer in a couple of days, but I want to think about it more thoroughly this time before I commit to anything.
I pull myself back to the present and look at my eyes in the mirror. I can’t help myself; I DO love the look. Does that make me weird? What is happening to me? I dry my hair and go get dressed. I don’t even notice that, when I am done, the look is more on the feminine side than anything I have worn to school before—not girly by any means, but definitely on the more feminine side of androgynous with a mauve sweater and flashier jeans.
I hurry over to Jenn’s house and she smiles when she sees me.
She says, “I love the look!”
I give her a confused look and she says, “You are pushing the girly side more today. I like it!”
Now, I give her a concerned look, “Girly side? I didn’t think it was! I can’t go like this if YOU notice it! I have to go home and change!”
She grabs my shoulders and says, “Dee! Chill! It is FINE! I noticed because I am looking for it! Besides, we don’t have time. We need to go!”
I don’t notice that we really DO have time as she steers me out the door and to her car. I fidget the whole way to school and she says, “Dee! Stop! I shouldn’t have said anything! Look, I will bet you that no one gives it a second look! If they do, I will not push anything NEW on you this week. If they don’t, by say lunch, then I get to ramp up your eyes this week. Deal?”
At this point, I have fully convinced myself that everyone is going to laugh at me as soon as they see me and I will have to run home in shame. I just nod, thinking that I at least won’t have to worry about being inundated with new girly-girl stuff this week…
So color me surprised when I have to let her put ‘lash-lengthening’ mascara on me after lunch as the first step for the week… I am completely shocked that no one has said a thing about ANY of the stuff I have been doing over the last couple of weeks. I know that the girls in our clique, Samantha, Michelle, and Gwen, must have noticed—but they didn’t say anything.
Now that lunch is over and I am sporting heavier and longer eyelashes, that I am sure no one can miss, Jenn tells the girls about getting permanent eyeliner. I sigh and nod to Jenn, who then tells the group, for the first time (that I know of) that I am experimenting with being a girl, but am trying to keep it low-key; and that they are the only ones that know and have to ‘pinky-swear’ to keep it a secret. I am surprised that they still do things like that at their age; I am even more surprised when it is such a BIG deal to them. Then, Jenn even tells them about my nickname.
Of course, they all pledge their secrecy… and support in helping me with my experiment. I groan inwardly—I just went from one girly-girl tutor to four! These are four of the sexiest and most sought-after girls in our school. All but Jenn have college-age boy-friends; so, my hope is that they will be too preoccupied to worry about me. The flaw in that hope is that they all have much the same agreement with their boy-friends as I have with my girl-friend… No dating during the week…
So, I find myself at the mall that evening with four dolled-up girly-girls. Of course, I am wearing the same type of dress and heels as theirs—and my makeup is every bit as sophisticated. I even find myself keeping up with the conversation…and giggling at jokes that would have blown right by me a couple of weeks ago. While I still feel weird being dressed as a girl at the mall, it somehow doesn’t register in my mind that I am getting more and more comfortable with being included in a group of the most popular girls from school…
Mom is already home when Jenn and I come in Wednesday after school. I am surprised—she hardly EVER is home this early.
She hugs Jenn and smiles at me. She winks and says, “I like the eyes! Did you have them like that at school?”
I shrug, knowing that she is referring to the fact that Jenn had ‘ramped them up’ again today… Before today, she had only been having me wear mascara on the top lashes… Now, she has me doing long, curled lashes on top…and putting it on the bottoms, as well.
I say, “Yeah…never lose a bet with Jenn… Why are you home so early? Not that I am complaining!”
She laughs and says, “I am taking to you over to see Sherri Langdon. She needs to do your follow-up exam to make sure your hormones are doing OK. You also need to give her an answer about her other offer. Have you decided?”
I blow the air out of my lungs—forcefully. Then I sigh and say, “No, not really…”
Mom sighs, too, and says, “Well, you have about thirty minutes… Jenn, do you want to ride along? I am sure they wouldn’t mind if you hang around the spa…”
Jenn smiles and says, “That would be awesome! As luck would have it, we are all done with homework. But does Dee have time to change and do her makeup right?”
I give her a sour look, but Mom says, “Yes, but you need to hurry!”
Jenn pulls me to my room and sorts through the dresses in my closet. She looks at me and says, “You heard your Mom! Get with it! It won’t put itself on, you know!”
I sigh and sit down to put on my makeup. I can do it without much thought, now—especially, since I don’t have to pay as much attention to my eyes. Then I put on the dress that she hands me. It is a knee-length emerald-green dress that looks great with my red wig… I quickly put on the black, four-inch stilettos and hurry downstairs.
Mom is already tapping her foot, but smiles when she sees me. She says, “You look very nice, Dee. Now, let’s GO!”
Twenty minutes later, Mom and I are sitting in Sherri’s office. Sherri smiles and says, “OK, Dee. Lola is going to take some blood and then I need to have a talk with you. Since you are eighteen, I have to ask if you are OK with your Mom being here? I assume you are?”
I nod and say, “I don’t have any secrets… OUCH!” Lola sticks my arm and pulls the blood, then quickly leaves to run the lab work.
Sherri says, “So…I would also like to ask Dr. Gilson to come in. Is that OK with you?”
I sigh and ask, “Shrink?”
Sherri actually giggles and just nods.
I say, “I guess… If you think it is necessary…”
She just nods again and pushes a button. The door opens and a beautiful blond woman comes in and introduces herself as Joyce Gilson.
Sherri says, “Alright, Dee. I want to ask you a few questions. Joyce will have some of her own. Later, you will have one-on-one sessions with her, but it seemed easier to start out this way for today. OK?”
I nod.
Sherri then asks, “So, Hon. How are you doing? You seem to be taking things farther than you had initially indicated to me that you were thinking. Aside from the hormones…permanent makeup? I know I authorized it, but you volunteered for it—no one forced you. Now, I have to ask: Have you decided on the cosmetic enhancements?”
I look at them all looking at me and swallow. I say, “I don’t know. I am so confused about what I want. I…I…I…like how I look with makeup on… I feel…good! I am feeling more comfortable going out in girl’s clothing. I seem to be getting along well with Jenn’s clique—I feel like I am accepted by them. I…am just confused…”
Sherri asks, “But isn’t that what you wanted? To explore this all and see what it is like?”
I say, “Explore, yes… But, to be honest, I had no idea what to expect… And now I have a butterfly on my butt that I will have for a long time…and girly eyes… Eyes that I like…but that scares me. It is all so confusing…”
Dr. Gilson speaks up, “So, it bothers you that you like it?”
I shake my head and say, “No…I am just confused by it. I…really want to say yes to the enhancements to see what it would be like. But I am afraid I am losing myself…or worse, never really knew who I was… Am I being dumb letting these permanent changes happen to me?”
Sherri asks, “So, you want the enhancements? How far do you want to go? Maybe a nose-job, too?”
I start shaking and say, “I don’t know! I am just so confused… Yes, I want it—but I am afraid it is a mistake! That I will regret it… That I will want to go back to Gerry and won’t be able to…”
Sherri says, “It is OK, Dee. Look at me! Dee! Look at me!”
I slowly look up at her; tears in my eyes.
She says, “I know this is hard. We have to ask these questions, though. We have to understand where you are before we go any further. The eyeliner…it was a test. I wanted to understand your commitment. To know if you really are into this or are just somehow playing along with something. The ink that was used on YOUR eyes is a special invention of Bill’s. He uses it on a lot of celebrities for movies and things. It is much more permanent than the old stain they used to use for temporary tattoos, but unless it is given a special follow-up treatment, it will start to fade after about four to six months and completely fade away in about a month after it starts. If you REALLY decide you want to keep it, it is a simple and painless procedure to actually make it permanent. But…the butterfly; well, THAT is there to stay…”
Dr. Gilson speaks up, “Dee? I thought it was Deirdre. I like that as a nickname. The fact that you even HAVE a female nickname is pretty significant. I think that you are becoming intimately comfortable with your feminine side. I think that scares you because you weren’t expecting that. Am I right?”
I sniffle and nod.
She continues, “I need to talk lots more to you…later. Based on what I am hearing, though, I am convinced that you need to see this through. Whether it was your intent, or not, you have awakened something within you. If you don’t see it through, you will always wonder…hate yourself for not finding out. I will stay by your side and we will talk it all out. But, I think I actually agree that you should go through with the enhancements…play it all out.”
She takes a sip of water and continues, “The simple fact that you are willing to go through the pain of permanent makeup…or cosmetic surgery just to see what it is like to be a girl means something. Do you understand? Most people would not even consider anything like this if there was not a deep-seated desire to know what is on the other side of the looking glass. No one would do it for superficial reasons, unless they just enjoy pain and anguish. I don’t think that is you, though. Am I right?”
I am more confused than ever but I nod at her question. Then, I sit there thinking about what was said, not sure where to go with this.
Mom speaks up for the first time in the meeting, “Dee, you know that I am here for you—whatever you decide; in any aspect of this. You have a lot of people on your side—besides the three of us here, you have Vicki, Jenn, and your ‘posse’, as you call it. But that does bring up another point—if you go through with the enhancements—and it seems that even Dr. Gilson thinks you should seriously consider it at this point—you won’t be able to go to school as Gerry after break. It would be pretty odd for ‘Gerry’ to have breasts!”
I blanche at the thought. I say, “I can’t believe I didn’t even think about that! No…I can’t do that… It would be too embarrassing!”
Dr. Gilson gives me a strange look and asks, “Why? What are you worried about? You are already wearing girl’s clothes and makeup to school. You may be doing so in an androgynous manner, but you do know that people HAVE to have been taking notice, right? I talked to the school before I came in here to confirm that everything is in order with your file—you are registered with them as a transgendered student. While that diagnosis remains to be seen, it does open the door for you to do this.”
I sigh and say, “Yes, I assumed that people were noticing. I dread going in every day; terrified that someone will start to make a big deal out of it—start to make fun of me.”
Dr. Gilson asks, “Wouldn’t it be better to just rip the band aide off—go in as a girl and not have to worry about it? I am not saying it will be easy. Did you know that your school can get a special grant because of YOU? When you were registered, as the school’s only registered transgender student, the school became eligible for a special state pilot program. As far as the administration is concerned, they WANT you to ‘come out’—as a role model for others that are struggling with the same issues you are. They believe there are several transgendered students at the school that are afraid to let anyone know… You would have full protection from harassment and intimidation; well, as full as the school can give you. No body guards, or anything. But, you are already in the most popular group of girls at school—I promise you that is the best protection you can get.”
Sherri says, “Dee, Love. You are very special to my daughter—I have no doubt of that. Whatever the reasons you had to go through with this in the beginning,” she gives Mom a knowing look, “it is clear that those motivations are changing. I can promise you that Vicki will not hold anything against you—as long as you are honest with her and true to yourself. But you DO have to make a choice. I can give you until noon tomorrow, but then I either have to book you in, or you will lose this window—that doesn’t mean there won’t be other ones. You do need to keep in mind, though, that if you want a full experience within the three-month window of your hormones, this is really your only window…”
I sigh and nod. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. Finally, I say, “Thank you, Sherri. You too, Dr. Gilson. Sherri, can you pencil me in—the full works? I will let you know for sure by noon tomorrow, but, at least for now…I think I want to…”
Sherri gives me a hug and says, “Consider it done. But, if I don’t hear otherwise from you by noon tomorrow, I will consider it a confirmation, OK?”
I nod and give them all a hug.
The next day at school, I am in a turmoil. I had not slept all night, worrying about my latest decision. So, I am really concerned when I get a message out of the blue to come to the principal’s office. Jenn gives me a questioning look and I shrug as I leave the classroom amidst a chorus of ‘Oooooos’…
I enter the administrative office and Mrs. Brown, the secretary, smiles and says, “Relax, Hon. You’re not in any trouble. Mr. Petrus is waiting for you, as is Nurse Simpson.
I timidly enter the office and see the principal and the nurse sitting in chairs around a conference table. Mr. Petrus says, “Come in, Gerry. We need to have a talk. Don’t worry, you haven’t done anything wrong.”
I nod and take the proffered seat. I ask, “What do we need to talk about, Mr. Petrus?” I look at Nurse Simpson, who smiles at me, and get a sinking feeling that I am not going to like this conversation, thinking back on what Dr. Gilson had said yesterday.
Mr. Petrus says, “Gerry, you know the status of transgenders in our state—ever since last year when we elected the first openly transgendered governor and her subsequent crusade to change our LGBT laws. Your status as transgendered has given this school special status; we are suddenly eligible for grant funds and a special pilot program—but only if you are open about it. What can we do to help you with that?”
I shake my head and say, “Dr. Gilson mentioned something about this yesterday. I know she has talked to you. I don’t know what she has said, but I am not sure I want to go through with everyone knowing the truth. They may suspect something, but, so far, no one has bothered me…”
Mr. Petrus says, “If you are worried about people bothering you, I don’t think that will be an issue. We will do our best to make sure that you aren’t. This state has become much more tolerant—not that there aren’t still idiots…”
Nurse Simpson, the school district’s head nurse, says, “Gerry, Hon, it is not good to keep this all bottled up. You are going to have to come out some time. Why not do it now, where you have a solid support group, and get it over with?”
I sigh and ask, “IF I agree to this, what would it mean exactly?”
Mr. Petrus smiles. I guess he figures he has already won. He says, “Well, you would have to be open about the fact that you are a girl. There would be some papers to sign; we already have affidavits from your doctors and the rest ready. And life would go on with you in your real gender role. Oh, and we would like for you to join the LGBT committee—they are actually looking for a new chair…”
I sit there and think about this. If I decide to go through with the enhancements, then it is not like I can be Gerry here anymore, anyway… Well, the original three months of hormones will be up before the end of school, so…technically, I could still graduate as ‘Gerry’…
I ask, “What if I change my mind…if it doesn’t work out? It is not like I can put the genie back in the bottle…”
Nurse Simpson says, “Based on my conversation with Dr. Gilson, I rather doubt you are going to change your mind. The choice is ultimately yours, Gerry—or should I say, Dee? It can be a true win-win IF you CHOOSE to do this. Like we said, we are here to help you through any rough patches. And, because of the grant money we will receive, we will pay for any associated administrative costs—they are insignificant compared to the overall good that this would do for the school.”
I look at her and ask, “Administrative costs?”
She smiles and says, “Well, your records will need to be officially changed…that has a cost associated with it. We will help you through the process. Once that process is underway, you will be treated no differently than any other girl here, because, in the eyes of the law in this state, you ARE one.”
I sit there, confused as to what to do again. Ultimately, I am at the point that I DO want to know what the FULL feeling is like. It is not something that I expected going into this. But what is being suggested here has an air of finality to it. ”Can I ever come out of this, if I go down this road,” I ask myself.
I sigh and say, “Well, I have semi-committed to some procedures while on break and the two seem to go hand-in-hand, so I guess it makes sense to go through with both. I just hope that I am not making a mistake and will regret this. When were you thinking I would start? Oh, I also need to send a quick email to my doctor…”
I stand uncomfortably on the auditorium stage with Mr. Petrus and Nurse Simpson.
It is a little over an hour after my ‘decision’ and I have signed several pieces of paper that they already had ready. I had to decide on the full name that I wanted to go onto my records, It was, however, not until I was ready to sign, that I realized that with the next signature, I would formally be requesting a legal name change to ‘Deirdre Brianne McIntosh’. Along with that, was the legal request to have my gender officially changed on my legal records to ‘female’. With the new laws in the state, this is a really simple process…
I had signed the papers, with a shaky hand, and Mrs. Brown had notarized and scanned them in and electronically submitted them to the appropriate state office, along with the affidavits from Sherri and Dr. Gilson and the associated fees. Twenty minutes later, it was all confirmed and Mrs. Brown had printed out my new official documents.
Now, still unsure of what I have just done, I look out into the auditorium as the whole school is filing in. Mr. Petrus had called an impromptu assembly—and I am the center of attention. A very uncomfortable center of attention.
After everyone is seated, Mr. Petrus calls for quiet and says, “I know you are wondering what this is all about and I am sure that everyone is totally bummed about missing class.”
There is a general din of laughter. He waits a minute and continues, “I have something serious that I want to talk to everyone about.” He looks over at me and says, “I know some of you know Gerry—and some of you don’t. After this meeting, you all will and I want you to be fully supportive of Gerry’s decision and bravery. As of about thirty minutes ago, Gerry ceased to exist. In his place, you have in front of you, Deirdre, or Dee to her friends. Dee is our first officially registered transgendered student. She is to be treated no differently than any other girl here. I hope I am clear about that!”
I feel faint as he ‘outs’ me in front of the whole school. I know I had agreed to this, but it is still a huge step and I have no idea how it is going to turn out. I have to grin, however, when Jenn raise her hand and Mr. Petrus calls on her.
She stands and says, “I am sorry Principal Petrus, but she is different than most girls here. She is a part of the popular girls!” There is a lot of giggling from the other ‘popular’ senior girls, Samantha, Michelle, and Gwen, who already know about me, anyway. The message is clear to the others in the auditorium, though, ”Don’t mess with her!”
Mr. Petrus smiles and says, “Well, that is not a distinction that I am willing to make, but good for her.”
I blush and the assembly quickly comes to end after Mr. Petrus lays out that I will be using the girl’s restroom from now on, like any other girl. I will also be using the girl’s locker room, if I am part of any activities that require the use of a locker room (which I have NO intention of doing).
I leave the auditorium and Jenn, Samantha, Michelle, and Gwen all hurry and give me a huge girly group-hug. Michelle says, “We had NO idea that was going to happen, Dee! This is so awesome! But, girl, you need some serious makeup, now!”
With that, I am pulled into the nearest girl’s restroom and Jenn sets about ‘fixing’ my face. While this is not my first time in a girl’s restroom; it is at school—and the first time that others know. I am expecting other girls that come and go while Jenn is working on me to openly harass me. But, at least for the moment, all I get are congratulations and welcomes to the ‘superior sex’…
Ten minutes later, my face now fully made-up, we all walk to our next class together. I do get some strange looks, both from some girls and from more boys. I think the girls are mostly jealous of the fact that I am included in this particular group—that does not make me popular, but it does provide me certain advantages. The boys, well, I can only imagine what they are thinking…I likely would have been thinking the same thing as little as a month ago…
Michelle and Gwen split off to go to a different class. Jenn, Samantha, and I go to our classroom and I take a seat, clearly flanked by the two. It is right before the bell rings, so there is not really any time for talk before class, but Mrs. Pullet, our teacher for this class, opens the class up for questions and discussion. Mr. Petrus had warned me this would be the case over the next couple of days, until I have made it through all of my classes…
The class is about half and half, girls and boys. The only questions this period come from girls, though. The boys seem too embarrassed, or disgusted, to ask any. The girls’ questions range from ‘why?’ to ‘do I have a boyfriend?’. And it is a basic repeat of this in all of my classes for the rest of the day—although, by the end of the day, there is an occasional question from a boy, or two. Mostly, something along the lines of ‘do I plan on having it all cut off?’.
By the end of the day, I am drained. When Jenn drives me home, I sit there quietly. Thankfully, Jenn just lets me decompress without plying me with unanswered questions. When we get home, I am surprised to see Mom is there.
She hugs Jenn and asks, “Jenn, Hon, do you mind if I have a little alone time with my…daughter?”
Jenn smiles and says, “Not at all! I will see you in the morning, Dee!” She gives me a big hug and quickly leaves me alone with my mother.
Mom smiles and hugs me. She says, “I hear you had an eventful day.” I give her a questioning look and she takes me into the kitchen to make some tea. As the water is boiling, she says, “My contacts at school called to congratulate me on your courage. Have you been planning this? I know that Dr. Gilson talked about it, but…”
The pressures of the day come crashing down on me and I break down in tears. Mom just comes over and hugs me and holds me for quite some time. When I have myself under control, I finally say, “No, I didn’t plan this—any of it! Not being labeled ‘transgendered’, not ‘coming out’ at school, ‘not changing my name or gender’… All I wanted was a girlfriend…and now I am a freak!”
Mom squeezes both of my arms hard and pushes me far enough away that she can look in my eyes, “You are NOT a freak, young lady! I don’t want to hear that EVER again! Now, you made these choices—no one but you. While you may be questioning yourself, which is a GOOD thing, by the way, there are two very bright doctors that are supporting those decisions—so, there has to be something to this whole…journey…that even YOU did not know of.”
She lets go of me and gets up to make the tea. When she comes back to the table, she continues, “Nothing you have done can’t be reversed, including the name and gender change on your official record. Well, the only thing that can’t be changed is that you have admitted to the whole school that you are a girl… You will probably just need to maintain that ‘status’ at least until you graduate, now.”
She pours the tea and says, “I still don’t know what drove you to do any of this. I can’t believe you were shallow enough to do it JUST to get a girlfriend. Neither do your doctors—and, yes, both of them know. Don’t look at me that way. I didn’t tell them—they asked ME and I would not lie to them…”
She takes a sip of the steaming, bitter liquid in her cup and finishes, “So, now, tell me, Hon. Do you really hate all of this? Do you want to call it quits? If you continue, it HAS to be for the RIGHT reasons. YOU have to know it is for the right reasons. It is OK to admit that you like being a girl, or even that you are just genuinely curious. It is NOT OK to keep this up with the only reason being that you think it is what Vicki wants in order to be your girlfriend…”
I sit there visibly deflated. The ‘young lady’ really hit home—it sinks further in that that is what I officially am now… I look at Mom and sigh. For the first time, I really am introspective and look at my own motives. I sit quietly while Mom sips her tea and mine gets cold. I sit and think—hard.
Finally, I look at her again…somewhat at peace for the first time since I let Sherri give me the hormones and say, “I don’t know what the actual trigger was, Mom. Yes, probably the fact that Vicki liked me…and more so when I expressed my ‘feminine’ side—or, at least, that is what it seemed like to me. But, I think that was just what got me over the hump… I have long wondered what it would be like to be a girl. I can’t say I have dreamed of being one, but I have always identified with them, somehow… I have always been scared of what that means, though. I was afraid it meant I was some sort of freak. Then I fell into this whole…thing. The last couple of weeks have scared the death out of me; but they have also been some of the most amazing days I have ever experienced. I feel more…at peace…with myself as Dee. I just can’t say why that is…”
Mom smiles and says, “That is what Dr. Gilson is here to help explain…”
At that moment, Vicki steps into the kitchen and smiles at me. My heart jumps, then falls to the pit of my stomach—she had heard it all!
She says, “And I will help with the rest, as will our mothers and all of your friends. Thank goodness you are not doing this just because of me. I would never have forgiven myself. I love you and support you with all my heart. But, if you EVER again even THINK of doing something as stupid as what you have over the past couple weeks—only to please me and keep me as your girlfriend—then we are done! OK?”
In violation of our ‘no dating’ policy during the week, Vicki makes a well-received exception and we go out to eat at a secluded spot in a swanky restaurant. We talk for quite a while and I lay everything out to her.
She hugs me when I am done and says, “I’m glad you told me all of this, Dee. I am still furious at you for ever even THINKING that way, but I love you all the more for telling me…and for doing it. I was serious, though… NO MORE, OK? Anything you do from here on out is for YOU!”
I sigh and know that she has every right to be mad. I nod and say, “Pinky swear!” I hold out my hand and she hooks pinkies with me.
She giggles and says, “You know that is a sacred swear, right? As a girl now, you can NEVER break that swear!”
I blush and nod. She laughs and then takes me home, since she still has some studying to do.
The next morning, I wake up to my phone chirping. I answer it, seeing it is Jenn.
She blurts out, “Good morning, Sunshine! You HAVE to wear a dress today! K? I will see you in an hour—in HEELS! K?”
Before I can even really wake up, let alone get a mumble in, she hangs up…
I drag myself into the bathroom and the blood slowly starts circulating to my brain. Then it suddenly hits me what Jenn meant…and my actions and decisions from yesterday come flooding back. This is my first full day at school as a ‘girl’. As a consequence of being with the ‘popular’ girls, I am expected to dress as a girly-girl…
I groan and turn on the shower…
An hour later, I am waiting for Jenn to open the door. I am standing there in a light-green dress, nude pantyhose, and four-inch, dark green stilettos. I am also freezing. She opens the door and gives a little shriek when she sees me.
She says, “Come in, Dee! Where is your coat? Never mind… You can borrow one of mine!”
She buzzes around, hands me a coat, and pushes me out to her car.
I am reluctant to get out of the car at school. Yes, I ‘came out’ yesterday…or, more to the point, the principal outed me… But, this is the first time that I will be in full girl mode…and full GIRLY-girl mode, at that.
Michelle sees us and rushes over. She opens my door and gives a little shriek…much like Jenn had earlier. She literally pulls me out of the car. Jenn hooks one arm and Michelle the other and they basically march me up the steps to the front door.
We meet up with the rest of the posse at the top of the steps and, as a group, click-clack into the school. At first, no one seems to notice. Then I can feel the eyes on me—this is what I have dreaded for weeks now…
And…people seem surprised at my look, but are not mean. Well, there is one idiot that tries to say something, but Samantha and Gwen shred him apart. After that, there aren’t any other incidents the rest of the day.
During third hour, I get another message to come to the front. I blush deep red and leave the class amidst a bunch of ‘Oooooos’, AGAIN. By the time I get to the front office door, I am totally flustered. I just keep concentrating on the clicking my heels make on the marble floors…
As it turns out, I am being excused from the next two periods to sit in on the monthly LGBT committee meeting. It is a joint committee between school staff and students. After I am welcomed by the staff chair, Ms. Peevish. I had NO idea before now that she is a lesbian. There are only two students on the committee, other than myself, Peter Perk and Janice Godwin, both openly gay—there are supposed to be a total of four. There are three staff besides Ms. Peevish. I now know that Mr. Greene and Mr. Dudley are ‘an item’ and Ms. Pinkley openly bisexual.
To be honest, this all goes WAY beyond what I WANT to know. As it turns, I am the FIRST EVER ‘openly transgendered’ student at this school. Neither Peter, nor Janice have any desire to be the student chair of the committee, so I am offered the position. I try to decline, but Ms. Peevish won’t hear of it. It is a quick vote…and I am student chair. They ‘convince’ me that my dedication is just what the group needs to be a ‘force’ in the school… I sigh and reluctantly accept the position—it is not that I have anything against doing it; I just don’t feel right being the poster child for transgenders…
We don’t really accomplish much else during the meeting, but they list me on the school’s Facebook page as the student chair of the committee. It will also be announced at the next normal assembly in two weeks and be in this month’s school newspaper.
The next several days, until break, are really anticlimactic. I am pretty much accepted as a girl at school without much of a problem. There is an occasional comment and one of the girls gleefully shreds the poor idiot that mutters it to pieces. There is not another meeting of the LGBT committee until after break, but at that point we will be planning the big LGBT event of the year.
My weekend with Vicki is very memorable. She has completely forgiven me and has a plethora of ways to make up for my completely useless little Gerry… Enough said on that…
And then, the day of my scheduled procedures finally arrives… I am sitting in Sherri’s office and she is going through things with me.
She asks, “Are you OK, Dee? Are you ready?”
I sigh and say, “Yes, as ready as I am going to be…”
Sherri smiles and says, “It is OK to be nervous, Hon! So, we are going to trim down that waist and beef up those hips and breasts. I would also like to do a bit of facial work—is that OK? I also have a little surprise procedure that I would like to do—I don’t want to say more now, though…”
I look at her nervously and ask, “Facial work?” I decide to not go into the ‘surprise’, for now.
She giggles and asks, “Trust me, Love? I promise it will all look awesome when it is done!”
I say, “I trust you, Sherri. It’s ME that I don’t trust!”
She smiles and says, “I promise that I will be able to UNDO anything that I do DO! And, yes, I just said ‘do do’!”
We both giggle and I sign the final releases for everything she wants to do.
A fresh-faced nurse, Amanda, leads me into a surgical suite, where I have to strip completely naked and get into a surgical gown… Amanda hooks me up to an I.V., then she gives me something through the tube that makes me really tired. Sherri comes in and smiles at me. Amanda gives me something else and…
I wake up and I HURT! I moan a little and crack my eyes open.
Amanda is there and asks, “Welcome back, Hon! I know it hurts. Hang on and I will give you something for the pain.” She does something and a blissful feeling spreads throughout my body and…
I open my eyes and am really thirsty. I hurt, but not like before…
Mom is there and says, “Hi, Sweetie! How are you feeling?”
I croak, “Thirsty…”
Mom gets a glass of water with a straw and lets me sip a bit. My lips feel all swollen and numb—I can barely suck on the straw. She says, “Go slow, Hon.”
After I get a few sips of the water, I say in a LESS croaky voice, “I feel like a truck hit me, ran over me, and then backed up over me again…”
Mom giggles and says, “Well, you DID ask for this. So, you have no else to blame but yourself. I will say that you LOOK like that truck hit you, ran over you, backed up over you, then ran over you AGAIN. So, I guess you feel better than you look!”
I groan and Mom giggles.
At that moment, Sherri walks in and smiles when she sees I am awake. She says, “Everything went perfectly, Dee. You are going to be a very sore lady for a couple of days, but you will be ready to go back to school when it starts back up. You won’t be a hundred percent by then, but a good sixty or seventy percent is good enough. Would you like to sit up some?”
I nod and she pushes the button to raise the head of the bed. As it goes up, I feel the weight of my new breasts pull down on my chest. I gasp.
Sherri stops, an alarmed look on her face. She asks, “Are you OK, Love?”
I sort of giggle at her face and say, “I am no worse than I was. I am just not used to the weight on my chest…”
Sherri laughs and says, “Welcome to womanhood, Love!”
Mom laughs, too, then says, “It sure is a sight, seeing them there!”
Sherri says, “I know you want to look at yourself. Trust me when I say that you really don’t. I know that won’t stop you, though. So…here…”
She holds up a mirror and I gasp. My face is all bruised and swollen. I see my large (for me), C-cup, breasts. I also see that I am in what looks like a corset, which explains why it is so hard to breathe.
I say, “I look like SHIT! My face…”
Sherri says, “It will be worth it for you, I hope, once the swelling and bruising go down.”
I slowly nod and ask, “Is this…a corset?”
Sherri nods and says, “We have to keep your fat properly distributed after the lipo…just until everything stabilizes. You will only have to wear it a month, or so…”
Then I remember the discussion before the procedure and can’t help but wonder. I ask, “And the surprise?”
Sherri smiles and pulls back the covers. She holds the mirror so that I can see between my legs. I see a tube coming out from somewhere UNDER my useless little Gerry. It is connected to a bag hanging on the side of the bed and it is filled with urine. I turn pale, not understanding.
Sherri says, “It is called a urethral relocation. You will now HAVE to sit to pee and wipe like a girl. I know that you have been voluntarily doing so, but this lets it really sink in what that is like—HAVING to. Don’t worry; like I said, I can fix it back…but, it will take another surgery to do so—that will either be to close the new hole back up, or properly fit you with SRS. At least until then, you will have to stand in line like the rest of us at public restrooms!”
I can tell Mom is still a little shocked by the tube, but she obviously knew about it and giggles with Sherri at my face. I am somewhat shocked, too. But, am actually OK with it, to be honest. Like Sherri said, I HAVE been sitting on my own…what difference does it make, given everything else that was done to me.
I wind up giggling about it, too, when Mom says, “Well, at least I can be SURE that you will finally hit the toilet now!”
I have to stay in bed for three days. Finally, Sherri removes the catheter and I am allowed to slowly get out of bed. It is a strange feeling. The corset makes me keep my back ramrod-straight. The extra weight on my chest keeps me slightly off-balance. I nearly fall on my face. Mom and Vicki grab my arms and keep me on my feet.
We walk around the room, both of them holding on to me, until I find my strength and balance. Sherri hands me a robe that I put on. We all go into the hall to walk. It is after-hours and I am the only patient in the clinic. I get to go home if I can successfully walk down the hall.
Before we leave I have to pee—my first time after the ‘surprise’ procedure. After Vicki teaches me how to wipe properly, I get dressed in loose clothing. I still can’t believe how small my waist is now. When it is all said and done, I had gone from a size twelve down to a size eight through my diet and exercise. After the lipo, I am now a size four.
The ride home is uncomfortable. Lying in bed with the corset is bad. Sitting is worse—much worse. I can’t get comfortable and it is difficult to breathe. I don’t complain, though. I DID ask for this, so there is no use complaining.
I feel better once I get home, though. I can move around more, which gets my spirits up—not that I am ready to run any marathons…
By the next day, Thursday, the fourth day after the procedures, the swelling in my face is finally going down. The bruises are turning more yellow. I have an idea of what it will look like when it has all settled. Sherri had plumped my lips, filled out my cheeks to give them little ‘apples’ and make them look higher, and tweaked my nose. The only thing that has me worried is my nose—it is cute! I fall in love with the little upturned button that now adorns my face, but it would look really funny on Gerry. I know Sherri said she could fix it back to close to what it was, but there is no way I want that ugly nose back… Overall, my facial structure is almost pixie-like. I absolutely LOVE it—I am absolutely TERRIFIED of it!
By Sunday, the swelling on my face is gone, as is most of the bruising. What bruising is left is easily covered up with makeup. Wearing a bra is now a fact of life—I easily fill my 32-C push-up bras and look AWESOME up top. My twenty-five-inch waist is such a difference, too. My hips and butt are rounded and neatly balance out my top with the narrow waist separating the two. I have every girl’s dream figure…again I love the feeling. I feel so feminine—and pretty. The fact that I love it so much still scares me, but I am getting more used to the fact that I LIKE myself as a girl.
I put on my new dress that Vicki had brought over this morning for our date. I finish up my makeup and look at myself in the mirror. The only thing that doesn’t scream girl is my hair, which is still short and not very feminine at all. I put my wig on and smile. I am HOT!
Vicki stops by to pick me up and nearly attacks me as soon as I open the door. After a few minutes of kissing, Mom clears her throat and says, “OK, you two! You’re going to catch the door on fire! Go! Have fun! But, remember, you have school tomorrow!”
The restaurant she takes me to is very upscale—and very busy. I actually experience for the first time what it IS like to have to pee really badly and have to stand in a long line for a stall in the ladies’ room with no other option. Vicki just giggles and leads me out to the car as I gripe about it. We go by her apartment for a short while…
We both get dressed again about ten and she drops me off at home. Break is officially over… I sigh and get ready for bed…this time to actually sleep.
The next morning, I look in my closet. It is pretty empty. Everything that I had is now too big. Vicki and Mom had gone and gotten me enough to start the week, but I am going to have to go clothes shopping this week. I take out a gold dress and brown four-and-a-half-inch stilettos. I expertly do my makeup and throw on a light coat. It is finally starting to warm up a little—spring is on its way.
I walk down the street to Jenn’s house. For the first time, I feel really good about myself as Dee…as a girl. I am not dreading school at all.
Jenn gives me a big hug and jumps up and down when she sees me in full girly-girl mode for the first time since the procedure. She chats non-stop on the way to school about how good I look. A few weeks ago, I would not have been able to follow her rapid-fire girl-talk. Today, I have no problems at all.
Needless to say, I turn heads at school. You can hear the jaws drop. Jenn, Samantha, Gwen, and Michelle just giggle. Of course, I blush when I get my first cat call… I am now finding out for real what it is like to be in the popular crowd!
With every passing day, my face becomes more and more healed. By Wednesday, all of the bruising and swelling is gone.
I am up early, sitting in front of the mirror at my vanity. I look at the work that Sherri has done—I look like a girl. There are no two ways about it; it would be very difficult for me to pass as a guy, right now—even without the breasts. My nose is small—a true button nose—and slightly upturned. It is what most guys think of as ‘cute’. My mouth is…luscious—my plumped lips are begging to be kissed. My eyes are…alluring.
I shake my head and ask myself how I will ever go back—how I CAN ever go back? That is…if I decide to…
I finish getting ready and leave the house to meet up with Jenn for my ride.
No one at school seems to question me anymore on whether I am a girl, or not. I am sure there are still those that think I am weird—or an idiot—but they keep it to themselves. The one thing that HAS changed is that over the past three days, I have had as many younger guys approach me…quietly. They all tell me they are like me but afraid to say anything. They all want my advice.
Of course, I don’t really have any advice to give. This is not like I REALLY planned it—or even WANTED it for that matter. I just sort of fell into it. So, I told them all to come to the next LGBT meeting and we will help them the best that we can. I know I am just buying time, but I have to figure this out—think about it… The last thing I want to do is really mess up someone’s life with bogus ‘advice’. I make a mental note to talk to Jenn…
So, when she stops at the mall on the way home, I just smile. I had not known we were going shopping, but it is very clear when I see Mom’s car not far away in the parking lot, that this was a planned event. Strange as it may seem, I am excited to go looking for new clothes—smaller clothes than I have worn in years… And I am really excited that they are going to be girl’s clothes—I shake my head at myself and giggle.
I smile at Jenn and say, “Shopping? Really? I can’t wait!” Mom comes over and I hug her as I ask, “Can I get some shoes, too?”
We unload all of the bags into the cars and Mom takes us to a nice restaurant at the edge of the mall’s parking area.
Once we are seated and have ordered, I ask, “Can I ask you both something? I have a…problem…”
They both just nod and I take a deep breath and say, “Well, I have been approached by three young guys…that want my advice…on how to transition. I guess THEY really ARE transgendered—or at least believe they are. They want my help—and I don’t want to do the wrong thing…”
We are silent as our waitress brings out our drinks; then Mom says, “It is good that you are concerned that you might say something wrong—or steer them in the wrong direction. Only a professional can really help them with the foundation of their problem. What you CAN do, however, is be there for them—encourage them to make the right choice for THEMSELVES. It is really no different than in your case. The underlying reasons may be different—at least they WERE—but you had to make tough choices none-the-less; still do, for that matter.”
Jenn nods and speaks up, “And you had to face the consequences of making those choices. You have learned to weigh the good with the bad and then make your choice. You can help them with that…let them know that NOT making a choice is a choice in and of itself—and likely NOT in their best interest!”
I sigh and say, “Yeah…that is kind of what I was thinking, too… I just feel so…fraudulent…giving someone with REAL issues advice, like I have been there… I mean, I know am learning what it is like to be a girl…” I think of all the bags in the car and giggle, “…and I think I am really starting to like it… But, it is not like I have been living forever with this knowledge that I was born the wrong sex…”
The waitress brings our plates and leaves. Mom says, “Dee, you know that I will love you no matter which way you decide to end this odyssey of yours. You know that of your girlfriend and your other best friends, as well. You had to trust them—take that plunge. That took—and takes—courage. That is what you have to help these individuals with… I have every faith that you can do that. Hold their hand and cry with them when things go wrong—and laugh with them when they go right. You are a very caring person…use that empathy here!”
I don’t see any of the three guys—or girls, as the case may be—the rest of the week; the next LGBT meeting is not until next week. I am glad for the reprieve, but know it is only that—a reprieve. Next Tuesday will eventually come—and…hopefully…so will they…
When the last bell rings on Friday, I am thrilled. In a few hours, I will be able to go on another date with my gorgeous girlfriend—and not feel like an ugly duckling doing it. I barely notice the corset anymore, but, it is now cinched down another few inches and I am sporting a wonderful 22-inch waist in it. I have a whole new wardrobe—paltry compared to Vicki’s, sure, but plenty good enough for me.
I am day-dreaming in the car on the way home and Jenn gives me a hard time, “You know—it is not nice to not talk to your ride!”
I giggle and say, “I was just dreaming a bit about going out tonight. There was a time when I would have dreaded the thought of dressing up to go out—let alone dressing up as a girl. Now? All I can think about is what I am going to wear tonight to go out with Vicki. I want to look special—FEEL special!”
Jenn giggles and says, “You are such a girl, now! I think you should wear that new green dress. Green looks so good on you!”
A little over two hours later, Vicki finally is at the door. I am just barely done getting ready. I open the door and fall into her arms for a big kiss, then drag her inside and kiss her again.
She giggles and says, “It is great to see you, too! You look great!”
I smile and return the compliment, “Not as good as you! Before we go, can I ask a favor? I would like to make a quick stop at your Dad’s…I think I want to get my ears pierced again. I love the look on you!”
She looks at her watch and smiles. She nods and says, “Sure! We have plenty of time—but you know, if you get your pierced like mine—it hurts going through the cartilage…and that won’t heal back up once the holes are healed.”
I say, “I know. I still like the look and I know a bunch of guys that have multiple piercings, so I am OK with it.”
Twenty minutes later, we enter the ultra-clean tattoo and piercing parlor. Bill smiles when he sees us and gives us both a big hug. He says, “I just finished a really nice tattoo. Want to see a picture?” He shows us a picture of very feminine dragon that is climbing up the back of a woman—holding onto her shoulder with its cutely manicured claws. It is very big—but very nicely done.
I say, “Wow! That must have taken forever!”
He laughs and says, “Yeah—it took quite a while. So what brings you two here?”
I say, “I would like to get my ears pierced again… I would like something close to what Vicks has—triple lobe piercings and my cartilage here and here.” I point to the upper cartilage of my right ear and the inner on my left.
He smiles and says, “Sure. That will only take a couple of minutes. Come pick out the jewelry you want to use.”
I pick out the studs for my lobes and two small rings for the cartilage. Vicki was right—the cartilage piercings DID hurt; but, in my opinion, it was worth it. It looks AWESOME!
I want to pay Bill, but he won’t hear of it—so we both give him a big hug and are on our way.
As we pull into the parking lot of the restaurant, Vicki asks, “Dee—Gerry is becoming more and more a thing of the past. Are you sure this is what you want? It may be a good time to stop…”
I shake my head and say, “No. I will at least do the three months—I have come too far NOT to, now.” I stop and think and then say, “And, yes, I think you are right…Gerry IS becoming more and more a part of my past. I am not sure I can step back through the looking glass anymore…I may be trapped on this side forever. Not that that is such a bad thing…”
I smile and lean over and kiss her passionately. Then we fix our lipstick and walk into the restaurant.
Three hours and a movie later, we exit the elevator into her apartment. She says, “Why don’t you get into something more comfortable and I will open us up a bottle of wine.”
I smile and go into the bedroom. I open ‘my’ drawer and take out a silky nighty and get undressed—down to the corset, which has to stay on. I slip on the nighty and can’t help but think about the fact that this is the first time that I am putting this on here with real boobs. I look in the mirror and am still shocked by the cute Irish pixie looking back at me.
Vicki comes in with two glasses of her signature red and hands me one. We clink glasses and each take a sip, then she undresses and puts on her nighty. She comes over and gives me a deep, passionate kiss—then fondles my breasts. She looks at the bed, giggles, and says, “I would love to start ravishing you right now…but…I think we should enjoy the wine a bit, first!”
She pulls me into the living room and she starts sucking on my nipple a little between sips—it drives me crazy!
We finish the bottle of wine, she opens another…and leads me back into the bedroom…
I wake up to a mild headache and Vicki lying next to me, staring at my face. My tongue and the inside of my mouth feels like parched cotton… All I can manage is a hoarse whisper; almost a croak, “What?”
Vicki giggles and says, “I am just looking at my Princess. Those hormones must be taking effect if those moans and screams last night are any indication—you can barely talk, you screamed so loud last night! Come on—I think you need hydration… Orange juice will do you good!”
After breakfast, including three BIG glasses of juice, I clean my new piercings and take a shower. After I get dressed, Vicki insists on going shopping with me again. She buys me several new expensive outfits and then we go over to her parent’s house in the late afternoon. I still can’t get used to the size of the place—but at least I am not shocked this time…
Sherri hugs and kisses us both—Bill is still at work. Vicki pours us a glass of wine and we all sit in the parlor to chill out for a bit. Sherri smiles at me and says, “I love the new piercings, Dee. I think that it is time for some hair extensions, though. Don’t you agree? They would much easier to care for than that wig—and much more comfortable. Let me make an appointment for you for in the morning… No arguments, young lady!”
I sigh, but smile…it seems I am getting hair extensions…
The next morning, Vicki and I go to the spa. After a long massage, I get my hair colored a deep red and get long, below-shoulder-length extensions. When it is all said and done, my hair has loose waves and is a bit below my shoulder. It feels…wonderful. It seems they are not done, though. This time, I get serious nail extensions…in a hot pink that goes surprisingly well with my new red hair…
From there, we go back to Bill’s… I have no idea why…until we walk out an hour later…with Jenn and the squad…and all with matching belly-button piercings. I am beginning to feel a bit like a pin cushion…but a PRETTY pincushion, at least! I later find out that it was all Jenn’s big idea.
The six of us go to a restaurant and have a late lunch. We are definitely a gaggle of giggling girls having a good time. Vicki laughs and decides it would be a lot of fun to have a pajama party at her apartment. We split up to get our stuff and agree to meet back in two hours…at Vicki’s.
Vicki and I go back to her apartment and I hang up all of my things on ‘my’ side of the closet—I giggle at having a ‘my’ side. We then go to the store and get some supplies for the party and get back about ten minutes before the girls start arriving.
Vicki puts the white wine and beer on ice and opens a bottle of red to breathe. We all then get undressed and into our pajamas…short baby doll nighties that show off our new belly jewels.
Of course, this is my first experience with the age-old right of girly-girl pajama parties… Since, my nails are freshly done—and WAY longer than I am used to—they don’t mess with them… That doesn’t mean that the other girls can’t do each other’s nails—and I get to do some of them. After we are done with the nails…we start playing with each other’s makeup. These girls are as serious about that as their nails…and I learn how to do several different looks; from daytime to serious party-mode.
After that, we order several pizzas…and then we start on our hair… Of course, by now, we are all several sheets in the wind and thoroughly enjoying ourselves. I am having the time of my life!
Around three in the morning, we all begin drifting off. Vicki and I go to our room. The other girls split up between the two guest rooms. I know that these girls are not lesbians…but you would never know it from the noise coming from one of the guest rooms… Of course, Vicki and I add to that noise level…
Thanks to the fact that Vicks made me drink a ton of water before going to bed, I both was up every few minutes during the night to pee…but also have no headache when I wake up around noon. I am the first one up and shake my head at the mess in the apartment.
I start making a large batch of scrambled eggs, bacon, and biscuits. I put on a big pot of coffee and, by then, the girls start showing up…the smell calling to them.
We all giggle through brunch…complete with mimosas…and soon, the girls leave. Vicks and I clean up the apartment and she takes me home.
Another weekend gone by…another couple of steps for me towards major girly-girlness.
I really do think the looking glass is cracked…
Our next GLBT meeting is all about the upcoming ball. ‘Ball’ is probably a bit overstated, but, it is going to be a fun dance, I think.
The three students that had approached me did show up—and it gives me an idea for the dance.
My idea for the event, the first of its kind for this school, is to have students and teachers that have not officially declared themselves TG switch roles for the dance—girls come as boys and vice versa. The idea is not new, but it should be fun anyway. For this event, the ‘switch’ has to be serious, though—no mocking the other sex.
My hope is that non-TG students will have an opportunity to experience the ‘other side’; some may even find out that they like the change. My bigger hope is that it will create a safe environment for non-declared TG students, like my three in attendance today, to ‘be themselves’ and maybe get them to open up to their true selves.
We have a fairly large budget—both from the school and from a grant given to us by the governor’s office for such events. We decide that we will go with a 70’s disco theme and start picking out what we will need to decorate the auditorium. The event is going to be in three weeks and we need to work quickly to get everything ordered and ready to go.
We, of course, ask for volunteers to help and Jenn and the squad all volunteer. They are already excited about figuring out what to wear as guys. Michelle and Gwen are also giggling about getting to dress up their boyfriends as girls. Samantha and Jenn currently don’t have boyfriends, but that does not curb their excitement in the discussion. They also volunteer to help ‘Amanda’, ‘Jenny’, and ‘Christy’—my three ‘new’ TG students dress up as girls.
Jenn is even still talking about it on the way home, “I think this is an awesome idea, Dee! Obviously, not everyone will take part—but it should be eye-opening for those that do. It also will be really nice for those that have come out, yet—maybe it will help them see that it is OK. I know it wasn’t your plan to be a role-model—but you are being a good one anyways! Amanda, Jenny, and Christy certainly think so!”
She giggles and we go to my room to finish our homework. As we walk up the stairs and I think about what she said, I hear another virtual crack form in the looking glass… It seems that soon there may be no way back through if I am not really careful…
I shrug and we open our French books to study…
AUTHOR’S NOTE:
I know I have let this one sit for far too long. To be honest, I wrote myself a bit into a corner several chapters back and needed a break—then got caught up with other ideas. So, no excuses, but with the most heartfelt of apologies, I will try and bring this to a close with some sort of dignity.
HUGS!
S
I look around the auditorium and grin. Saturday Night Fever—eat your heart out!
The mirrored ball is slowly spinning and the disco lights are reflecting all over the floor and walls. No, the floor is not lit up, but, well, you can’t have it all, right?
The first students have arrived and it is apparent that the are taking it seriously. The ‘guys’ are dressed up in shimmering polyester and the ‘gals’ are all in appropriate dresses. No, they haven’t gone so far as to shave their legs—well, most—but, it is cute to see them struggle with the short dresses and—mostly—lower heels.
The big exceptions are Amanda, Jenny, and Christy—and a few others—that are dolled up the nth degree. Then there is ‘Benny’, who I figure out is Linda McGrew. Although, there certainly is no evidence of Linda—I make a note to ask later…
I look up, pulled out of my reverie, by a commotion at the door. I click over in my four-inch heels—as a ‘declared transgender’ student, I am allowed to come in my ‘true’ gender. I see three ‘girls’ trying to get in and being stopped by the welcoming committee. The ‘girls’ are Bobby Bender, Rich Flanders, and Simon Gallows—all jocks and important figures on various school teams. They are clearly not taking the spirit of the ball seriously and look more like they are trying to win most ridiculous Halloween costume than making a good-faith effort at being a ‘girl’ for the evening. I don’t see the girls that are normally their dates anywhere around—either as ‘guys’ or not.
I walk up to the ruckus and ask, “Can we help you? I think you clearly need to rethink your dress if you want to attend the event, ’girls’!”
Bobby Bender just says something crude and Mr. Petrus steps up behind me and says, “You gentlemen can go home—you’re banned from the event. I will be seeing the three of you in my office on Monday morning. Now, I will count to three and I don’t want to see your ugly attempts at crude humor anymore. Do I make myself clear?”
I can see them all three clearly pale—even under the crude and heavy makeup smeared on their faces. I am not sure they were expecting the principal to be in attendance, or what. They clearly miscalculated, either way.
After that the rest of the ball went off without a hitch. It is obvious that some enjoyed the event much more than others, but everyone still had a good time and I think the next LGBT meeting may be much more interesting than the last several.
The rest of the weekend, after the dance, goes by quickly. Vicki and I spend it in her apartment—it is the first time after I finally am able to remove the corset and she shows me things that drive me wild. It is funny, too. My breasts are finally starting to feel more normal—and not like overstretched water balloons on my chest. But, now my nipples are getting sore and itchy. That doesn’t mean that Vicki isn’t able to make them feel better!
Jenn and I are talking about the dance as we are walking into the school building first thing Monday morning, when Mrs. Brown comes straight up to us and has me follow her to Mr. Petrus’s office. I am slightly surprised and shrug as I split off from Jenn.
When we get to the front office, I notice Booby, Rich, and Simon sitting dejectedly in the chairs outside the Principal’s Office. Mrs. Brown sends me straight in and I am surprised to see Coach Connors sitting in his office with him. Both stand up as I come in, then sit down after I sweep my dress and settle into a chair, my legs comfortably tucked underneath with my feet crossed at the ankle.
Coach Connors looks upset.
Mr. Petrus says, “Thank you for coming on such short notice, Miss McIntosh. I want to talk to you about Friday evening’s events. Overall, I think the ball was a smashing success!”
I nod, “Thank you Principal Petrus. I couldn’t agree more. It could have only been better if my girlfriend had been there.” I blush as he gives me a funny look.
Coach Connors clears his throat and Mr. Petrus continues, “There is the issue of Mr. Bender, Mr. Flanders, and Mr. Gallows to deal with. I am firmly of the mind they need to be suspended. We have to send a clear message that the school takes this seriously.”
Coach Connors breaks in, “But that isn’t fair George! They were just being boys! We need them on the team!”
Mr. Petrus shakes his head, “I won’t stand for it, though, Jim!”
They go back and forth for a couple of minutes and I wonder why I am even here. Finally, I clear my throat and ask, “Gentlemen! If you don’t mind… Why am I here?”
They both turn a little red and Mr. Petrus says, “Ummm… Right. Sorry about that, Miss McIntosh. As you can see, the coach and I disagree on the punishment for the three hooligans. I want to suspend them—he wants to let them off the hook.”
I nod, still unsure of where this is leading.
He continues, “For all intents and purposes, this was your brainchild. So, we thought it appropriate to get your input, as well. You are the student chair, after all.”
I sigh. I was not expecting this—at all.
I sit there a minute, or two, in silence, then an idea hits me… I smile and outline my plan. Mr. Petrus nods. Coach Connors is not happy, but ultimately agrees to go along with it.
Ten minutes later, the three boys are sitting in the office with us—looking very nervous. I feel sorry for them, actually. I agree with the coach that I don’t think they were being mean--just totally stupid. While there may not be a cure for stupid, there can certainly be ‘teaching’ moments used to help with the symptoms.
Mr. Petrus looks at the three boys and says, “Well, boys, you can thank Miss McIntosh here when we are done that you are not immediately on a two-week suspension from class—and from all team play for the remainder of the year.”
They turn white as a ghost, but one look at the coach lets them know to be quiet.
Mr. Petrus continues, “She has convinced me to give a choice. It is completely your choice which punishment you will receive—be clear, though, there will be a punishment!”
They all sink lower in their chairs.
He looks at them with a hard stare, “You can either accept my original punishment—two-weeks suspension and no more team play this year. Or, you can accept an alternative two-week punishment where you will come to school as the girls you should have come to the dance as.”
There are gasps.
He says, “It was your choice to come to the event—no one forced you. If you choose this alternate punishment, you will subject yourself to Miss McIntosh’s guidance and coaching in detention beforehand on how to present as a ‘girly-girl’, as she herself presents. You will not take it lightly, nor will you behave in any other way than a true girl. That means that should you choose to participate in sports events during those two weeks, it will be in your feminine persona—I am thinking cheerleading would be a perfect outlet for that!”
The three boys are sitting there, completely shell-shocked.
Coach Connors says, “Boys, I can’t say that I am happy with this. There are still three months left in the schoolyear, however. I still need you in our final games and this is the only way that I will have you—and I will have to get the team to win the next two weeks without you. Think this over very carefully before you answer!”
You should have heard the giggles when I ask Jenn whether she is willing to help me girly up the three boys and coach them into being able to serve their ‘suspension’ that is to begin in two weeks. Not only is Jenn in, but the whole popular girl posse!
So, for the next two weeks, there is a special one-hour meeting after school every day to start prepping the new girls, ‘Wanda’, ‘Zoe’, and ‘Gracey’ for their actual sentence. To our surprise, Amanda, Jenny, and Christy ask if they can also be a part of the meeting—not to help prep the boys, but to learn how to better be the girls they are. We happily agree and include the three girls in our makeup and behavior lessons.
The first day, when all six boys show up with their freshly shaved bodies—three totally humiliated and three in ecstasy—and we turn them into girls for the first time is precious. Of course, the three on suspension had only ever done it as the joke for the dance. The other three had only ever experimented in secret. Amanda, Jenny, and Christy soak up things like a sponge—always wanting more. ‘Wanda’, ‘Zoe’, and ‘Gracey’ need another heart-to-heart with the principal after the third day, but then make quick progress.
So, after the two ‘prep weeks’, Jenn and I, along with the other popular girls in our posse, take the six ‘new’ girls on a trip to the mall on Saturday afternoon. I hate to lose out on time with Vicki, but she needed a couple of hours to study for a final, anyway, and this was to be the final test to see if our lessons have ‘stuck’.
Amanda, Jenny, and Christy take to it like fish being thrown back into the water. ‘Wanda’, ‘Zoe’, and ‘Gracey’ are much more hesitant, but when we make it clear to them that they can either act like guys in a dress and heels at the mall and call attention to themselves—or fit in and learn from the experience.
All of us girls—yes, I am including myself in that group, for the moment—have a fit of the giggles, when ‘Zoe’ gets asked for her number by a jock from the neighboring high school. It was so precious to see ‘her’ flounder and then we all step in and rescue her. Her ‘boyfriend’ is so big and jealous, after all…
So, on Monday morning, which also just so happens to be the three-month anniversary of my hormones, we are all sitting in the auditorium waiting for Mr. Petrus to come out on the stage for assembly. He comes out at precisely eight a.m. and steps up to the microphone, “Good morning, Ladies and Gentlemen! I have some exciting news, this morning!”
He nods to Mrs. Brown and she escorts Amanda, Jenny, and Christy onto the stage—and Benny. Mr. Petrus continues, “I would like to introduce to you, our newest declared TG students…”
He announces the four to a more-or-less agnostic group of students in the audience. Since my ‘coming out’ and the ball, being TG is not that big a deal at the school anymore. Sure there are still those that are idiots, which is why the principal is going through this. Not to humiliate the four on the stage—like I had felt when I was up there—but to make it plain that there is no tolerance for bigotry.
To underscore that, he nods to Mrs. Brown again and she escorts the clearly embarrassed ‘Wanda’, ‘Zoe’, and ‘Gracey’ onto the stage.
Mr. Petrus continues, “Now, I would like to introduce you to three temp students that we have for the next two weeks. They have been ‘transferred’ to us for that amount of time as a punishment for inappropriate behavior. School, meet ‘Wanda’ Bender, ‘Zoe’ Flanders, and ‘Gracey’ Gallows.
There are gasps as everyone realizes just who is up on the stage.
Mr. Petrus says, “This is just a light punishment. Trust me! These three young ladies got off easy and they have your LGBT student chair to thank for that. She came up with this innovative way to keep the three very stupid boys that were exchanged for these three lovely ladies from being suspended for two weeks and from the school activities for the rest of the year. Oh, I hear they are all just chomping at the bit to help out our fantastic cheerleaders!”
He claps and indicates that the student body should. There is stunned applause, then the cheerleaders all get up as a group and let out a cheer to everyone’s amusement. The clearly embarrassed ‘girls’ leave the stage and the cheerleaders all rush up to them.
We all file out of the auditorium and I look around. There are only two months of high school left and I have no idea where I am going after that. I groan, I don’t even know what I am going to tell Sherri today after school…
I sit nervously in Sherri’s office. To my surprise, Vicki is there and is holding my hand. Mom couldn’t make it, which is fine—this is my decision. And the gravity has really sunk in over the last several months.
Sherri says, “Dee, do you want Dr. Langdon here? It is completely up to you. She said she will go along with whatever you decide. She is confident that you are well aware of the implications of any decision you make—including not making one.”
I feel Vicki squeeze my hand and I smile at her, then shake my head at Sherri, “No, I think I am fine without her.”
I sigh and lick my lips—they are still very plump and they taste like my peppermint-flavored lip gloss.
Sherri nods, “Well, I need some sort of indication on where we—you—want to go from here. You have had your three-month initial ‘trial’ and have gone a lot farther than any of us expected when you embarked on this—and come even farther, I think. I need to know what you want to do about your hormone status—and I also need to know about your eyeliner, we are at the point that it has to either be made permanent or let fade away.”
I nod and try and picture my face without the permanent eyeliner—and can’t.
I sigh, “Well, I can say for sure that I want to keep the eyeliner. I just wouldn’t be me anymore without it!”
Vicki squeezes my hand again and Sherri nods, “OK, I am not surprised at that. It will only take about ten minutes after we are done here. But, it will be the same as the butterfly on your butt, at that time—permanent and it would be very dangerous to use the normal removal procedures around your eyes, should you ever change your mind.”
I simply nod, “Yes, I understand. The thing is that, while Gerry is still a part of me—I am Deirdre now. I mean I feel more like Dee than Gerry. That doesn’t mean that I am a girl—any more than I am a guy. Right now, I don’t know what I am—but I feel more comfortable as Dee. Does that make sense?”
Sherri nods and Vicki pulls me into a hug.
I continue, “I…I…I think I want to do another ‘round’ of hormones. That is still within the ‘reversal’ period, right?”
Sherri nods, but says, “Yes, and well, I don’t know… You see, the longer you are on them the more the effects will become permanent—at least not without cosmetic surgical intervention. The effects of six months of estrogen should not feminize you more so than you already are through the surgery you have gone through—and it will take more surgery to undo those enhancements, at any rate. So, if your question is, do I think that another three months of estrogen will hurt? No, I don’t think so.”
She takes a deep breath and continues, “I would like to bank your semen now, though. You still are barely producing some—plenty for us to freeze. I would like grandchildren some day…”
Vicki exclaims, “Mother!”
I turn bright red.
Then we both laugh when we look at each other. She hugs me and whispers, “She’s right, though!”
I nod.
Sherri says, “OK. We will take care of that in a bit. I mean Vicki will—I am sure she stands the best chance of coaxing it from you without having to resort to more extreme measures. And it isn’t something that I know you haven’t practiced!”
”MOTHER!”
I giggle this time.
“Miss Deirdre Brianne McIntosh!”
I walk across the stage and receive my high school diploma. I am graduating at top of the class—tied with Jenn. Our study sessions over the last months brought me up just enough.
I sit back on my chair and grin at Jenn sitting a row ahead of me. She sticks her tongue out at me in a very girly way—and I return the gesture.
I look around the auditorium, knowing that chapter of my life is quickly coming to an end. I sigh—this is where the strange side-chapter of my life started.
I spy Vicki, Mom, and Sherri in the audience. Then I see Amanda not far away. She is taking over as student chair of the LGBT committee. I notice Simon Gallows, a sophomore like Amanda, sitting right next to her—I also happen to know that Amanda and Gracey have become best friends when Simon lets her out, which seems to be more and more. Wanda and Zoe have not been seen, nor heard from again after their two-week ‘exchange’—but Bobby and Rich were strangely way more tolerant of us girls after that time.
I focus my attention back on the stage and clap with the rest as Ginger Sprocket, our Governor, takes the stage and does the commencement speech. We all stand and clap when she is done—or, at least when we thought she was done.
I was already mentally preparing for moving in full-time with Vicki—now that I have been accepted into college myself.
Governor Sprocket clears her throat, “Excuse me, everyone. Before you go, I have the honor of one more duty before I turn the microphone back over to your principal to release you into your new lives. Deirdre McIntosh, will you come up to the microphone, please?”
I gasp and stand, clearly confused. I walk up the steps to the stage and then to the microphone. The governor shakes my hand, then squeezes it as she holds onto it. She looks out at the crowd and says, “You all know that I am transgendered and proud to be a woman. I have tried to make sure that anyone in this great State of ours has the same opportunities that I have had—but in a much easier manner. I am proud to say that this amazing young woman has done the same for this school and I am here to present her with this year’s Sprocket Award!”
There is loud applause as a very surprised me accepts the plaque from the Governor and there are pictures taken of us hugging. Then she goes back to the microphone, “Oh, one more thing…”
She nods and Vicki comes out on the stage, totally surprising me. She comes to the microphone and takes my hand from the Governor’s. She says, “You don’t know me, I went to a different school—although, you may well know my mother. Anyway, I digress, I am Victoria Langdon—Vicki to my friends. And speaking of friends, this young lady is my best friend and I love her with all my heart!”
She gets down on one knee and holds out a ring with a huge diamond on it, “Deirdre McIntosh, will you marry me?”
I think I am going to faint!
I just nod—tears streaming down my face! “Yes! Oh, yes, I will!”
Vicki slips the ring on my finger and kisses me.
Pandemonium breaks out and Mr. Petrus just releases everyone, since there is no way he is going to get the crowd under control. The Governor congratulates Vicki and I, then takes her leave. We make our way out of the crown and meet up with Mom and Sherri. They both hug us and congratulate us—then we go to meet Bill at the restaurant for our celebration.
We just get there and are seated, when Mom hands me a small box. I look in it and find a matching ring to mine. She winks and I place it on Vicki’s finger.
Of course, we all have red wine.
I am in a small piece of heaven when my phone buzzes in my purse. I reach in and pull it out. I see that it is Mrs. Vogel and I feel my face go pale.
I answer, “Hello? Mrs. Vogel?”
I hear the voice on the other end say, “Gerry? Sorry, Dee? I just wanted to let you know… Dan woke up and would love to see you if you can come? He is going to be fine!”
I promise to be there tomorrow and hang up.
Vicki looks at me, the question clear on her face. I simply say, loud enough for Mom to hear, too, “Dan is awake! He’s going to be fine! He’s awake!”
Of course, we have that and much more to celebrate.
I still don’t know what I am going to do in a few weeks when I have to decide on continuing on with hormones, or not. I love being Deirdre—and my nipples have finally stopped hurting and are growing much bigger. But Vicki has made it clear that she doesn’t care whether I am Dee or Gerry.
We’re getting married either way!
I look at the diamond on my finger and wonder if am technically supposed to still wear white?
I grin.
Vicki asks, “What?”
I say, “Nothing, love. Just wondering about something… We have plenty of time to figure it out. Do you think your Dad will give me another tattoo for my graduation? I can’t stop thinking about that lovely feminine dragon that he showed us a while back!”