Diva Dismayed: Chapter 2 - Out of the Frying Pan
My journey here on the previous Saturday had itself been prompted by a seemingly hopeless predicament. I had left my parental home that morning in headlong flight and the reason for my abrupt departure was simple. The day was to have been my wedding day, if my mom had gotten her way. I’d had misgivings about my engagement from the first and latterly the realisation had crystalized that the state of married bliss which had been planned for me was the opposite of what I wanted. Bitter experience had told me that once Mom had set a thing in motion there was little chance of changing her mind or stemming the tide which was about to sweep me off my feet. The one alternative to going with the flow was to make a run for it, and that was exactly what I did!

The only clothing I had with me was the bridal outfit that I was wearing, complete with veil and white satin shoes. All I wore in the way of normal attire was a jacket I’d been able to borrow from an unlikely assistant. As the former maidservant to my fiancée, up to that point Maria had always seemed in league with the others against me, but on this occasion she took pity on me and helped me escape.

Having volunteered as a favour to come and help me get ready for the ceremony she had been chattering excitedly to me the whole time she was there, while I half-listened disconsolately. We had reached the stage where I was in the dress, my hair and make-up had been perfected and there were only the final finishing touches to perform when Mom left us to go and complete her own preparations.

After she had gone I stood in front of the mirror staring at my reflection unhappily. True, I couldn’t find fault with my appearance but it was with a heavy heart that I viewed the prospect of what was about to take place. After some moments thus, I realised that my assistant’s babble had ceased and silence reigned in the room. Glancing over to her I saw that she was regarding me earnestly, a puzzled expression on her face. What felt like an age passed until she finally seemed to come to a conclusion. “You no want?”

It was more of a statement than a question but I shook my head to signal agreement with her. I really didn’t want. A moment’s pause then Maria made her decision. “Come!”

She slipped on her jacket and, placing her finger on her lips, led me out of my room and down the stairs as silently as possible. Pausing only to grab my purse she took me straight to the front door and out of it.

Closing the door quietly behind us she led me to where her little car was parked up and bundled me unceremoniously into the rear seat, dress, petticoats, veil and all.
As the car started, “Where you want go? You got friend?”

As to the first question, I was too stunned by this unexpected turn of events to make any reply. But the second gave me the beginnings of an idea. I had a friend who could help, but only one. Rachel!

There was just a tiny problem. For the last few months she had been living in the next state! I’d never been so far from home myself and it seemed an insuperable obstacle. It would also be too much to expect Maria to take me there even had it been entirely legal, but perhaps... “Let’s go to the bus station please. I have to make a call.”

Once there I found a telephone kiosk and was put through long-distance. Thus it was that an impromptu phone conversation decided my destination. With ten minutes to spare I boarded a Greyhound which was heading in the direction of the small city where Rachel had recently been appointed as a nurse. Her position was in a hospital a hundred miles or more from our home town. Maria’s culminating act of kindness was to press some bills into my hand and lend me the jacket she was wearing. It was a skimpy denim affair, but when I put it on over my wedding dress and ditched the veil, I was able to entertain a vain hope that my appearance had gained a modicum of normality.

Travelling such a great distance at the pace of the bus, I had plenty of time to review my decision of that morning. The more I reflected on my escape, the more firmly I believed I’d taken the right course of action, even if I would now be faced with some dire consequences as a result. I thanked heaven that my collaborator had enough of her wits about her to pick up my purse as we left the house. Its contents included some essentials which would make life easier in the days ahead. I just hoped that she wouldn’t face too much trouble for aiding and abetting my disappearance on her return.

As could be expected I was subjected to a lot of curious looks from my fellow travellers. I chose a seat half-way down the bus where there were a few vacant spaces, but if I hoped to attract little attention I was disappointed. Fortunately most folk were content just to stare and exercised the freedom to do so liberally, but after we’d stopped to pick up passengers a couple of times, a middle-aged woman got on and sat in the seat opposite.

“My-my, we are dolled up today, now, aren’t we?” she opened with. “Fancy-dress?”

Fortunately I’d had time to come up with what I hoped was a plausible story. “No, just travelling back from an end of term party.” I smiled at her disarmingly, and resumed my vacant gaze out the window. However she wasn’t put off and my response only fuelled her inquisitiveness further, provoking a lengthy conversation regarding my mythical college and studies. That was something which I could have done without. My inventiveness was wearing thin by the time she alighted at the next town. I was just about exhausted mentally and fresh out of ideas.

The woman clearly had some doubts about the truth of what I was telling her; unsurprisingly so as it was a fable from start to finish. She also didn’t hide her disapproval that a girl of my years could be allowed to travel so freely about the country. If I came across as a teenage miss whose parenting left a lot to be desired, that didn’t upset me much. What she surmised about me could have been so much worse. At last she departed and I was left in peace.

Across the state-line, I stepped off the bus and looked about me. A familiar figure was waiting there. Rachel had always been an idol of mine ever since those childhood days when she used to babysit me and my younger brother. When I saw the smile of sympathy which lit up her gentle features, it was more than my battered emotions could cope with. I dissolved into tears at the sight.

She comforted me with the warmest hug and in response I broke down completely and sobbed on her shoulder. “You poor sweetie! What you must have been going through.”

Diva Dismayed: Chapter 3 – Out of the frying pan
It took some time and the application of several tissues before I regained any kind of composure. Rachel stood back to look me up and down and her conclusion was no doubt warranted “You’re a sight for sore eyes and no mistake.”

Another hug and then she led the way to where her blue sedan was parked. Even though quite an old model, Rachel’s vehicle was a most welcome sight, representing a haven of security to my eyes. Less so was the scene which accompanied it. To our dismay, her car was being inspected by a figure of authority in the shape of a middle-aged man in peaked cap and uniform. His face bore a severe expression and he had traffic cop written all over him.
As we came closer it was obvious that he was eying up both the car and the yellow No Parking sign behind which it stood. My friend’s carelessness in selecting such an inauspicious space looked likely to cause further vexation; and this on a day where my jangled nerves had found little respite so far. Happily she seemed undaunted, though if the inevitable ticket was not to be issued within the next few moments some quick thinking would be called for.

She took the bull by the horns. “Oh, officer! Thank heaven you are here! It’s my friend! You can see it’s her wedding day and the car which should have taken her there has broken down.”

Rachel’s spirited attempt to avoid a penalty ought to have been equal to the occasion. Accompanied by her sweetest smile, this line of attack was calculated to have melted the hardest of hearts, but the stony-faced cop was apparently impervious to it. He made it clear that he had seen through the ‘helpless dame’ routine, even though it was enacted by such an attractive female.

His grim expression softened not one iota, so she ploughed desperately on “She’s had to travel by bus to get this far and that was as a last resort, as you can guess. We’d arranged I would meet her and drive her the rest of the way, but I just don’t know the route from here. The day is turning into a complete disaster! She might even miss the ceremony!” she concluded sorrowfully.

My friend sought to emphasise her words by unbuttoning and removing my jacket as she spoke so that the officer could remain in no uncertainty about the nature of my gown. My bride’s dress was revealed in all its glory and my tear-stained face confirmed the rest of her tale, hopefully adding credence to pathos. Meanwhile I gazed at my audience with what I hoped was a forlorn expression, although internally I was marvelling at how inventive Rachel had shown she could be, unrehearsed and on the spur of the moment. Repressing an incongruous desire to laugh, I tried to enlist the cop’s sympathy by looking as distressed as I could manage to.

The ploy evidently worked for now he was giving me his full attention. He had shown himself proof against the heart-rending appeal from my rescuer despite her movie-star good looks. No doubt it was my woebegone appearance that seemed to be softening the patrolman’s attitude.

Rachel’s vigorous removal of my jacket might also have had something to do with it. Her action had pulled the sleeves of my dress from my shoulders with the result that more of my décolletage was revealed than ever I intended. The sight no doubt increased the drama of the moment and appeared to engage the man’s interest, or perhaps it was merely that he had a daughter of his own and felt sympathy for me.

In any event he put his notebook away resignedly. “Okay, ladies. Just where are you headed?”

For the next few minutes, he was engaged in giving directions to Rachel but while he did so his eyes flickered continually between my tearful face and my over-exposed bosom. Wanting to keep up the attempt to appear totally helpless I made no effort to cover up and was hopeful the display might continue to have the desired result.

Perhaps too much so! At the start of his explanation he casually had rested a ‘reassuring’ hand upon my waist. That was unwanted and uncalled for, but I didn’t pull away. Next I was startled to find that his hand strayed downwards to rest on my rear. Mindful of the delicate nature of our situation, I judged it expedient not to recoil and was able to check my instinctive reaction. Thankfully, the several layers of tulle beneath my gown spared me much of the sensation of my butt being cupped!
Ewww!

He left us with a parting tap on my petticoated ass, accompanied by the admonition, “And just be more careful where you park your car another time.” Only when we were safely on our way could we relax and giggle about the narrow escape we’d just had.

“Thank goodness that’s over. Has he really gone?” Rachel exclaimed. “I don’t need another ticket with my finances in the state they are just now.”

“The cops are tough cookies in this neighbourhood!” she continued. “I expected only to have to bat my eyelashes at him to win him over, but apparently that just doesn’t work around here.”
Then as an afterthought, she teased “Oh, and remind me not to introduce you to any of my potential boyfriends when you’re showing such an eye-catching neckline. I’m not used to being upstaged in that department!”
I knew exactly to what Rachel was alluding. I’d long since held the opinion that my friend's willowy figure was one of the most sensational on the planet. She was the possessor of an enviable set of curves and in particular a spectacular bust. At least a size larger than my own, the upward thrust of her breasts seemed to defy gravity. Today, her shapeliness was hardly concealed by the thin cotton dress she was wearing and which the sun’s rays had little trouble penetrating. To my way of thinking the cop’s apparent resistance to her charms was inexplicable.

“Now, tell me all about this wedding of yours. Love the dress, by the way! I know only a little about how you got engaged. When did you decide you wouldn’t go through with it? And how did you get away?”

My explanation was halting. I didn’t fully understand it all, myself.
“Well, as regards deciding, it was quite gradual. We’d always got along really well so that wasn’t the problem. There was the age difference of course, but that wasn’t it, either.”

I continued “What really opened my eyes was coming across a drawer one day, full of er…‘toys’. I was stunned, I can tell you, at what it revealed about my intended’s er… preferences. It showed me a side of nature which I just wasn't prepared for. I’m definitely not into that kind of bondage thing! Eventually, when I got up the courage to casually mention what I’d found, all I got was a knowing grin and hints about the ‘fun’ we would be able to have. What was worse, I got the distinct impression that the fun wasn’t intended to be reserved just for the two of us, but would include some of those friends I didn’t like, as well.”

I went on to add “Of course it would have seemed prudish to make a big deal about it, so I didn’t protest. Perhaps I should have done.”
Going over these details with my friend helped me rationalise the past few weeks. I was beginning to make some kind of sense of my feelings.

“Anyway, as time went by the feeling grew stronger and stronger that what was about to happen was all wrong, for me at any rate. All I could focus on was that we were very unequally matched and I liked the way our relationship appeared to be heading less and less. Of course, I knew there was no way that Mom would ever let me back out. So… in the end I just ran. I wouldn’t have had the nerve to do that if I hadn’t had help; from Maria of all people. I didn’t expect her to be on my side.”

“It all seems quite unreal now I can think about it. When I got off the bus and saw you waiting for me it was like waking from a bad dream!”

Rachel’s eyes were opened wide at these revelations but there was one further circumstance which I didn’t need to mention and which would have made my nuptials remarkable had they gone ahead. It would have been no surprise to her that the person I was to marry was in fact a woman, Madeleine, who had a grown-up daughter of her own. Guests at the wedding who were not in the know would certainly have been shocked that my intended spouse was female, even though she would have been attired in pinstriped coat and pants. Same sex marriage was a thing unheard of back in those times, as well as the small matter of not being sanctioned by law.

Others, however, would have been wise to the fact that I, though the prospective ‘bride’, was actually male, so there was no question but that legality would be satisfied. Nonetheless, tongues would doubtless have been wagging. My friend was already fully aware of all that related to my gender. I was grateful that she had always accepted me for exactly what I was; a boy, but a cross-dressed one.

The next half hour flew by as I satisfied Rachel’s curiosity on the smallest details of the wedding arrangements, but I had still to deal with the matter of how I’d got engaged in the first place when her car drew up outside the nurses’ residence where she was living. That explanation would be awkward and the timeliness of the interruption of our heart to heart was very welcome.

“Well here we are. Now the first thing you ought to know is that the on-site accommodation here is subject to all kinds of regulations” she explained.

I was dismayed but unsurprised when she went on to tell me of the stipulation that there could be no overnight guests in the rooms. This was only to be expected in the late 1950s, but her take on that rule was refreshingly unconventional.

“So… the first thing we need to do is to get you inside and up to my apartment without attracting anyone’s notice” she declared smilingly. “We’d better start by losing some of those petticoats.”

As that operation would be impossible in the confines of her car, she got out and after a cursory glance around, motioned me to follow. She had been careful to park in a space out of the direct view of any of the building’s windows. With her assistance I lifted up the skirt of my gown until the hem was around my waist.

“Those stockings, too!” she directed. “We need to try and make you look as ‘everyday’ as possible. Shame we can’t do anything about those shoes.” She shook her pretty head despairingly at the bridal nature of my footwear, while starting to unclip my garter tabs in order to peel off my white hose.

It was only when she had removed the first that I realised that despite all her circumspection, our manoeuvres had not been entirely unobserved. I lifted my eyes only to meet those of a good-looking young man. Wearing round glasses, he was grinning broadly and was perched rather precariously on the hood of a red pickup which was parked on the opposite side of the lot. Once the realisation sank in of the spectacle I was making, and which he must be observing, I coloured up until my face nearly matched the hue of his truck. In the meantime Rachel’s attention was fully occupied in attending to me and she remained blissfully unaware that we were not alone.

“Hold still while I get the other one off” she chided and motioned me to raise the skirt of my dress even higher. She was unaware that her efforts were giving a grandstand view of my lacy white panties to our unintended audience. Revealing their flimsy bridal nature would have been the last of my wishes, but the young man now signalled his appreciation of the sight with a little cry of approval. “Bravo!”

At this interruption, Rachel finally lifted her head and became aware that we had company. Her vexation that her careful precautions had proved inadequate was immediately obvious.

“What do you think you are staring at?!” she shouted across to our observer. She stood up and glared at him angrily, with legs planted wide and hands on hips.

“That’s no way to behave. If you were any kind of gentleman, you wouldn’t take advantage and look on while a girl is in difficulties!”

Seemingly abashed by this attack, the young man held up his hands in mock surrender and mouthed an apology.

My friend stalked over to the truck. I winced in anticipation but when she spoke again she seemed to have regained control of her feelings. In a moderated tone, “Well Harvey, if you really are sorry then you won’t mention seeing us to anyone… and then I might just forgive you.”

“Sure, Rachel honey. Whatever you say.” The youth, who was evidently on first name terms with my friend, winked at her conspiratorially. He got back into the cab of his vehicle and started the engine. “I was never here. In a while!” and with an airy wave and a further meaning grin in my direction, he drove away.

Throughout this enervating exchange, I could only remain staring, rooted to the spot.

“Well, don’t just stand there!”

The urgency of my companion’s command electrified me into action and I hurried to obey. Now assured that we ought to be completely alone, I hitched the silken skirts of my dress even higher around my middle. My accomplice used my discarded hose as a makeshift tie to keep them in place. Then she pulled my petticoats down my legs and helped me step out of their voluminous layers before bundling them into the back of the car. She completed the transformation by buttoning my jacket tightly over all. The result might have borne some resemblance to a knee-length dress underneath the said jacket.
“There. That’s not too bad. At a distant glance your skirt might even be part of a nurse’s uniform. Well then! Come on!”

Our luck held as Rachel guided me swiftly through the entrance lobby of the building. Straightaway it became clear that to use the elevator would be risky. A couple of girls in white tunics were standing by its door, waiting its arrival. Fortunately, they were too engrossed in their own conversation to pay any attention to me. With no little alarm I followed my friend past them and across to the stairwell. We ran up several flights until we reached her floor which fortunately was deserted. Seconds later the door of her apartment closed behind us and we could breathe a sigh of relief.
Could anything else happen to me in a single day?

Diva Dismayed: Chapter 4 – All girls together
Rachel’s apartment was small. In addition to the bedroom, it had only a single living space which served as sitting room, kitchen and diner. I was thankful to be able to flop down into one of the two easy chairs while she busied herself making us both a much needed coffee. I was almost shaking with the stress of all that had happened.

“You need to sit still and try to unwind” was her assessment. Empathetic as ever, she sensed how mentally exhausted I must be after everything I’d been through that day.

“Harvey’s the delivery guy around here. He gets a little fresh at times, but I think he’s okay. Anyway, it can’t be helped, we’ll just have to trust him to keep our secret” she mused. “Of course no-one here will have any idea about that other ‘little secret’ of yours. It will make your life a lot easier if we can keep it that way.”

I nodded in whole-hearted agreement. It was some years ago that I had first started dressing as a girl. I had been coerced into the practice by my mother’s weird ideas on discipline. After my father left us the frequency of my times in female attire had increased more and more until it wasn’t unusual for me to find myself dressed in girl’s clothing for days on end. Initially I had resisted as much as I could but found it of no avail. Each time I rebelled only made the punishment regime more severe. It wasn’t just clothes. Hair, nails and make-up were included and I was expected to adopt the corresponding girlish behaviours, practices and pastimes. Latterly I had given up the struggle altogether. It was easier to take the path of least resistance. Once I’d accepted the feminine lifestyle imposed on me, I found that there were some elements of it that I could even enjoy. My new persona had become who I was.

In the back of my head there still lurked the idea that one day my masculinity might actually be restored, though by what actual means I couldn’t determine. My prevailing dream perhaps was more of a fantasy. I had pondered the matter deeply on the long bus ride here and had come to the conclusion that I must start to make some changes if I was ever to achieve what I longed for. The thought of dispensing with all the pretence I had to keep up was unimaginably inviting. I was very aware that, while ever I lived as some sort of pseudo girl, the consequences of exposure could be quite severe. As things stood, the fewer people that got to know my birth gender the better. So while regaining my manhood was presently nothing but an idea, there was strong enough motivation for it.

Nevertheless, a glance downwards served to undermine most of my resolve by reminding me of the pair of twin obstacles on my chest which thrust themselves on my notice, literally! Their existence was enough to disrupt any plans I might entertain, as also was the extent to which the copious skirts of my wedding gown filled both the seat I was occupying and its neighbour. The illusion that my hips were a yard wide as unfounded as it was unwelcome, but it made me all too aware that my butt and thighs were rounder and bigger than any teenage youth ought to expect. It was all so confusing.

Back to the present, when Rachel had satisfied herself that I was comfortable, she went in search of some alternative clothing, returning with a couple of summery dresses from her closet. I was made to stand up so that she could hold each against me in turn. Although to me they appeared to be a little on the large side my rescuer was pleased to announce that either would satisfy my need.

That point established, she led me into the bedroom and pointed to the top drawer of her dresser. “You could probably do with some everyday underwear as well so help yourself.” Then my ministering angel left me to my own devices with the comforting words “I’ll make us a sandwich, you must be famished!”

When she had gone I hastened to strip off the too-tight wedding dress and its equally constricting underpinnings. Once I’d removed everything, I wrapped myself in a loose robe which was hanging on the back of the bedroom door. I was tempted to lay back on the bed and close my eyes, but I made a supreme effort to exert myself and opened the drawer Rachel had indicated to make my selection of underwear. All those frilly things before my eyes made an enchantingly pretty sight. Her lingerie was neatly arrayed and looked invitingly fresh and clean.

Searching for something of an everyday nature, I picked out a bra in a shade of cream. The material had pretty pink flowers and was edged with a little lace. Though obviously worn and washed many times it still in good shape. Another point in its favour was that the bra’s straps could be attached in different ways, making it suitable to be worn under a variety of styles of dresses and tops. Threading my arms though the bra straps I eased my bust into the cups then fastened the hooks behind my back. It was satisfying to put it on like that instead of joining the hooks at the front and twizzling the garment round. My mother always insisted on doing little things the ‘right’ way and much practise had made me all too adept at performing these kind of contortions.

I was also incongruously pleased to find that there were some panties which matched the bra. I slipped them on to find they were a little loose fitting but they probably would be fine, or so I reckoned. That I might come to regret this selection in just a few days’ time never crossed my mind. My friend clearly liked to coordinate her lingerie. Such a consideration wasn’t important to me, naturally. Well, perhaps just a little. Okay, a whole lot! I have to admit it was a preference I indulged whenever I could. No doubt that was strange in someone whose avowed goal was to regain their masculinity!

To know I was wearing some of my idol’s clothes seemed to form an additional bond of intimacy between us and a little frisson of excitement passed through me at the thought. That was weird! Such feelings couldn’t be right! I reflected that Rachel and I were just like sisters, so I needed to make a more determined effort to think of our relationship in that light. I turned to check my image in the mirror. The sight brought me back to reality with a bump. Standing there in bra and panties was a figure with curves which surpassed most of those of the girls in my class at high school. Aargh!

How a boy could have developed as female a body as mine might be an occasion of surprise, but the explanation is straight-forward. My mother, herself a nurse, had somehow obtained a prescription for me as part of her feminising regime. Around the time of my fourteenth birthday and thereafter there were some mysterious salmon-coloured pills for me to take each day; ‘vitamins’ as I then believed. I wasn’t given any choice in the matter and by the time I’d been subject to this medication for twelve months, I seemed to have gained weight in all the wrong places. When I queried the way in which I seemed to be ‘developing’ with my mom, she merely gave a satisfied smile and told me it was important to balance my hormones. The dosage was increased! In my innocence, and ignorance, I didn’t connect my problematic body shape with the meds at all, but before long I found that I had a bust as well-developed as many girls of my years, not to mention a bigger bottom end.

Despite my bodily curves, I knew better than to expect to fill one of Rachel’s bras and straightaway what I saw in the mirror bore out my surmise. A foundation garment which could accommodate my friend’s generous bosom would be sizes too large for mine. I fastened its band on the tightest set of hooks and tried adjusting the bra straps but the fit still wasn’t great. It was obvious that the ends of the cups were undisguisedly empty!

I had just resigned myself to the conclusion that I would have to ‘make do’, when the owner of the lingerie put her head around the door to check on my progress.

“Supper’s ready” she called, then “How are you getting on?” Seeing the dismayed expression on my face, she came into the room and looked me up and down. At the end of this scrutiny her face likewise wore a frown. “Not bad. But I think we might need to do something about your… your top half.”

Rachel stood for a moment considering, then quickly she crossed to her dresser and when she turned back to face me I could see she was holding a wad of tissues and some balls of cotton wool. To my consternation, the next moment I found that she had taken my breasts in hand, so to speak! She calmly proceeded to insert and shape the padding inside first one of the bra cups and then the other, heedless of any embarrassment I might be feeling. I experienced my chest being unceremoniously kneaded and squeezed until my bra had taken on the desired shape. She laughed gaily seeing the look of protest on my face. “Relax! I’m a nurse, remember!”

Ruefully, I did my best to surrender myself to be so helped. Her attentions were giving me some undesirable sensations down below which I had to force myself to ignore. What would she think of me if she knew?! I couldn’t be sure, but there was a look in my friend’s eyes which showed she might have been aware of these conflicting emotions. Once she had padded the bra out to her satisfaction, she stood back to admire the effect.

“Perfect! Although…”

A downward glance at my nether regions had given occasion for a further concern. “You might want to try a different pair of panties” she smiled, snapping the waist elastic of the item in question against my skin. “These are about worn out.”

To hide my blushes I ignored her word of caution and gave my attention to the dresses. I could see that both had stretchy waists, so that although their owner was at least a size bigger than me, either of them ought to fit me well enough. In my situation of total dependence I wasn’t disposed to be too critical in any case. In the end I chose to wear a full skirted frock in white with a floral pattern. Once I’d slipped it over my head Rachel pulled up the zipper and turned me around to face the mirror. I gave an involuntary gasp. The material was taut across my chest and all I seemed to see was the prominence of my newly augmented bosom. It was certainly eye-catching. Carrying it off, so to speak, would take some getting used to!

She laid some hose on the bed with a cautionary “Be careful with these, please. They’re my only spare pair.”

Once I was dressed in these clothes, I began to feel more like myself and when my friend pointed out I needed to do something about my hair I was ready for whatever she suggested. My natural hair had grown nearly to my shoulders and some months ago had been lengthened by the addition of extensions. When it had been styled for my wedding a fall had also been added in. With all this extra volume the result looked amazing but there was no way that I could keep it like that. Rachel removed the hairpiece but insisted I retain the extensions. As an experiment she braided some strands and pinned up the back into a pony tail. It was a practical style as well as being youthful and modern. Looking in the glass I felt happy with the result.

I felt even better once we were seated in the living room and were eating. Rachel tried to hide her amusement as I wolfed down the sandwiches she had made, but I didn’t care. I’d had virtually nothing at breakfast and not a morsel since.

When my appetite had been sufficiently blunted, she became practical once more. “Now the next thing we ought to do is to let your mom know where you are. She’s bound to be worried and she’s got to be contacted some time. The sooner the better if you can face it. Your fi-an-cé too, for that matter.” A covert smile accompanied her enunciation of those syllables. Then looking at the panicked expression on my face she added gently “though perhaps that can wait.”

I knew Rachel was right, but I was dreading the impending interview. I was mightily relieved when she proposed putting through the call to my parent herself. I would be spared the first fury of my mother’s displeasure and disappointment. However there was a feeling other than anxiety which I was struggling to deal with. Guilt! I knew that my mother did care for me, even if it was in her own unusual fashion, and that I’d let her down in some fashion.

The call was connected straightaway. “Hello. Mrs Cartwright? It’s Rachel… Fine, thank-you. I’m calling to let you know that Jennifer’s here with me……”
She held the receiver away from her ear for a moment. When there was a lull in its screeching, she resumed “I know….. I know….. But she just couldn’t cope with it all today, I think. She’s anxious for you to know where she is, so as not to worry you.”

Some minutes elapsed while the phone continued to squawk loudly and my mother gave vent to her feelings. Even though Rachel would not be exposed to their full force as no doubt I would have been, the exchange was unpleasant enough and my poor friend couldn’t help wincing. I was grateful that the violence of my parent’s anger had dissipated a little when eventually the handset was passed over to me.

“Well, and just what have you got to say for yourself, young lady?” Instead of launching into the monologue of disapproval for which I was bracing myself, Mom seemed to be prepared to listen to my side of things. That was unexpected! I held the telephone so that my friend could hear what was said and tried to explain.

“I’m really sorry, Mom” I started. “For all the trouble I know I’ve caused you. And the expense too, Madeleine’s as well as yours. But I just couldn’t go through with it. Not just because of the age difference, it would never have worked. Believe me!”

An awkward silence, then, “That’s all very well, but don’t you think you might have made that decision a bit sooner?”

I could tell that she was about to build up a head of steam again so put in quickly “I just never seemed to get the chance, Mom. Everything was happening so fast. The last weeks went by in such a rush. I couldn’t think straight and you were so pleased for me, too. I didn’t want to disappoint you. And I know that I have!” At this I broke down and sobbed into the mouthpiece.

Another silence, then my parent seemed to soften. She actually sounded like she wanted to comfort me. “Well, it’s no good crying. What’s done can’t be undone. At least you chose a good friend to go to, and you’re safe. That’s some small mercy! You don’t deserve such friends and when I think of what all this will have cost her I don’t know how I can look Madeleine in the face.”

“I know!” I sniffed, with a watery smile in Rachel’s direction.

I felt overwhelmingly relieved that the conversation was taking a better direction. My mother continued in this moralising vein for some minutes while I murmured acquiescing responses.

Finally my parent’s manner became business-like, as she abruptly turned her attention to plans for my future. “And now I imagine you’ll be expecting me to drive all the way over there to come and get you? Or are you planning to stay?”

The reality was that I hadn’t thought any further ahead than today but my parent’s ironic question contained a suggestion which I seized upon like a lifeline, even though I was very certain that never for a minute had she seriously entertained the idea. I knew that I would never escape my girlish trappings if I tamely went home.

“I’m going to stay!”

“Are you crazy? What about your education… and… and just who will be paying for your keep?”

I’d clearly taken the wind out of Mom’s sails for the moment and that put a little more courage into me.
“I’ll get a job, at least for the summer. It’ll give me time to decide what to do about school after that. I’m sure I can earn enough to support myself till then.”

A stunned silence then “Well what about clothes? You must have nothing at all to wear.”

At this my rescuer came once more to my aid. “Hi Mrs Cartwright, it’s me again. I can lend her some things for a day or too, so don’t worry. She will be fine here with me for as long as she wants. I think she just needs some time.”

I sat there in a dull stupor while Rachel and Mom discussed practicalities. By the end of the telephone call I felt a lot happier, although that was mainly because the ordeal was over! My mother seemed to have accepted the status quo, which was something I hadn’t dared to hope for. She had even relented enough to talk of packing up a trunk with some of my things and shipping it across. Best of all, there had been no insistence on my immediate return, the prospect of which I would have found unbearable right then. It was a huge relief for my jangled nerves that I was not to be hauled back immediately to face the music.

While I endeavoured to come to terms with this latest twist in my fortunes, another of my requirements began to make its presence felt. It dawned on me that, though her apartment had its own kitchenette, some other basic needs were not so ideally catered for.

“Er… Rachel. Where is your bathroom?” I enquired, and with some urgency.

“Oh!” she exclaimed with a wry smile. “It’s just down the hallway. But… we have to share one between all the rooms that are on this landing. Yes, and you ought to know that the lock on its door doesn’t work. As a lock that is.” Seeing my look of concern she reassured me “Though it doesn’t keep the door fastened, if you turn the inside knob then the little red indicator does get displayed on the outside to warn that the room is occupied. That way you may possibly get some privacy! But… it’s best to be quick. It’s either that or you whistle!”

With this warning in my ears, I made the short journey across the landing with a mixture of urgency and wariness in my mind. My needs were past becoming pressing! Afterwards, when I had washed my hands and was checking my make-up in the mirror over the sink, my attention was caught by footsteps hastily approaching. The sound increased until in climax, the door burst open, heralding the entrance of a small stocky female in spectacles. I gaped as without a word she dashed to the toilet and lifting her skirt, unceremoniously slid down her panties and sat to pee.

“Sorry”, she smiled apologetically. “Couldn’t wait a second longer!”

Observing my somewhat startled gaze in the mirror, she laughed disarmingly. “My name’s Della!”

“Oh, I… I’m Jennifer” I stammered, trying not to look at her.

Seeing the shocked expression on my face she pealed with laughter again. “Hi, Jennifer. Nice to know you! Don’t look so worried. We’re all girls together here!”
All girls together? Not even close!

Diva Dismayed: Chapter 5 – Into the fire
Della stood up and I tried not to gape as with her skirt hoisted around her waist she unhurriedly retrieved her panties. She didn’t seem concerned that nothing, but nothing, was hidden from my gaze. Rearranging her underwear to her satisfaction seemed to take her an inordinate amount of time. Throughout this operation she showed not the slightest embarrassment while I was experiencing enough for both of us! I was rooted to the spot and very conscious that I was staring, despite my efforts not to. There was an unwelcome tingling in my own panties which wasn’t helping me retain my self-possession and random thoughts kept popping into my head. For one thing I couldn’t help but notice how hairy my new acquaintance was! Unsurprisingly I found that circumstance very erotic. I needed to get out of there!

However Della’s next action was to join me at the sink. I stepped aside to allow her some space but now my line of exit was blocked. The girl calmly washed her hands. Then she turned to face me and smiled serenely, showing no inclination to let me pass.

“You’re new around here.” was her opening remark.

I merely nodded, unsure how much I should tell this confident young woman. Although she was smiling, the eyes behind the lenses appraised me shrewdly. I didn’t want to encourage any in-depth conversation, wary of how much I might give away.

“Me too!” Della went on to give me a thumbnail outline of her life in a bigger city some distance away.
She clearly expected that I would reciprocate but I was keen to avoid my back story becoming common knowledge. Where I was from and why I was there would remain shrouded in mystery if I had my way. Most immediately I knew I needed to hide the fact that I would be sleeping tonight in my friend’s apartment.

“Oh, fancy! You’re from out of town as well” I said airily. “I’m visiting Rachel this weekend, staying nearby.” Then wanting to change the subject, “You must be a nurse, too?”

She proceeded to tell me how she had recently qualified and succeeded in getting a post here. This was safer ground and I pretended to be fascinated, although there was little remarkable in her tale. Eventually the topic of our conversation inevitably worked its way around to myself again.

“You look awfully young. How old are you? You can’t be more than eighteen.” I merely smiled at this. When my face was fully made up my age had often been mistaken for that of an older teen. I had no desire to disabuse this inquisitive person of that notion.

While we talked I found myself assessing my new acquaintance. To summarise her appearance I would have said she was plain and her figure was undefined. Bra-less, her bust was small. Also her waist was thick and her hips narrow. Her hair appeared uncared-for to my critical eye and her voice seemed almost mannish, though moments ago she had removed any doubts that anyone could have entertained about her gender, quite graphically!

It occurred to me that outwardly my own body boasted more in the way of feminine attributes than hers, though not all ascribable to nature. My facial features, which were naturally delicate, had benefitted from the careful application of cosmetics and my hair was stylishly arranged. My nails were elegantly manicured. Even the pitch of my voice, yet to break, was as high as that of any teenage miss. Of course these superficial perceptions would have been completely contradicted by a glance at my birth certificate, which proclaimed that I was male, or at least had been born as such! There was physical evidence too, but that was well hidden underneath my frock and borrowed panties; something I was most anxious to keep concealed from Della.

“You’re very pretty, if you don’t mind me saying so.”

At this compliment I tried to pass off my embarrassment with a smile and a mock curtsy. I was tempted to push past her and hurry on out, no matter how ill-mannered I might appear, but something in her manner stopped me. I thought I could detect a tinge of wistfulness in her voice, despite an endeavour to conceal it. She had rested her hand on my arm as she spoke, in a way that was over-familiar in a complete stranger. Did her words express something more than approval of my looks? My desire to escape was growing more insistent but Della’s grip on my arm deterred me.

She continued rather tartly “Quite the girlie-girl, in fact! Who are you trying to impress, I wonder?”

This was too much. I pulled my arm from her grasp and drew myself up with as much haughtiness as I could muster, meaning to go, but before I could turn away, she smiled disarmingly and laid a hand on my shoulder in a conciliatory fashion.

“There, there, sweetness. You ought to be used to admiration, with your looks.”

I smiled again, thinking it best to defuse the increasing awkwardness of our situation. “That’s a lovely skirt. I was wondering where you got it.”

Having successfully turned the conversation, I began to edge toward the door. After what seemed an age, we finally left the bathroom. Although I was itching to take my leave of her as soon as might be, I strove to appear as calm as I could, casually remarking “Well, see you!”
Unfortunately this parting remark triggered another random thought in my head. I already had seen just about all there was to see of her. As if she read my mind, Della grinned at me somewhat conspiratorially. Self-consciously I found myself colouring deeply. Unknown to my new companion there was a tingling sensation in the front of my panties that I was trying to ignore, no doubt a result of the intimacy I’d just been treated to.

At last she turned and went into the room next door to Rachel’s. Thanking the stars that the woman hadn’t interrupted my ablutions a moment sooner, I hesitated for a moment to regain my composure before re-entering the apartment. I could congratulate myself that everything down below had been well hidden. The fullness of my borrowed dress covered any trace of my boyhood, or what there was of it. In any case I’d taken care that my panties would present an entirely flat front, as always. There would have been no unsightly bulges thanks to my judicious application of surgical tape.

After I closed the door behind me I flopped down into a vacant chair and breathed a heartfelt sigh of relief. My friend’s eyes were like saucers when she saw the look on my face, despite my vain attempt to appear as if nothing had happened. Seeing that she had guessed something was wrong I recounted how I’d just had the experience of sharing the bathroom with one of her neighbours.

“Did you get her name?”

“She said her name was Della. It was so embarrassing. She didn’t seem to be bothered that I could see… well… everything!”

Rachel gave an involuntary glance at my lap before looking quickly away. Her face was expressionless as she asked, “Do you think she can have noticed er… anything about you?”

“I don’t think so. I had finished… you know… so I was over at the sink when she rushed in. Fortunately this dress is full enough to hide anything that might give me away.”

“That’s a mercy.”

“She was very friendly.”

“I can guess!” Rachel pulled a wry face. “Was she at all inquisitive about you?”

“Very much so. She wanted to know every little detail” I complained. To calm myself I smoothed the folds of my dress beneath me.
“Anyway though she certainly asked a lot of questions, I think I managed to skirt most of them.” I couldn’t help a giggle. “Oh sorry. No pun intended. When she was curious about where I was staying, I did my best to be vague and only said ‘nearby’.”

“Clever you! That was good thinking.” However Rachel looked worried and clearly was unconvinced. “I wouldn’t want to trust her with a secret. The things she’s told me about some of the other girls makes me wonder what she’s been saying about me. A busy-body like her could make things very awkward, if she knew you were sleeping here. It’s such a pity that it’s against the house rules, and even more that you had to meet someone like her.”

Rachel’s delicacy had let her make no reference to my other secret, though, of course, she was familiar with every aspect of it. She had babysat me back when I was small and when my persona was totally male. My mom was her mother’s best friend and Mom had taken no measures to hide what had been going on with my feminisation, so she knew everything about me there was to know, more or less.

My friend was silent for a moment then declared. “However… Tonight it can’t be helped. It’s far too late to go room hunting right now.” Though her manner was quite decided, it felt all wrong that I might be involving my guardian angel in a heap of trouble.

To deal with this latest twist in my fortunes we turned our attention to the matter of how best to ensure my presence in her room could be hidden. My friend’s brow was furrowed with concentration while she enumerated the options. “Well, there are a number of choices. Finding you a room somewhere is out for the moment. I could go and ask permission of the warden that you stay with me for a few days, but I have to admit that I don’t rate the chances of success very highly. Mrs King comes across as a stickler for the rules! If she said no, as seems likely, we would be sunk.”

She looked pensive for a moment, then. “There might be another way. You could stay here secretly for as long as we can deflect Della’s curiosity and anyone else’s. Most of the rooms on this floor are empty right now with it being summer vacation and some girls are away for the weekend, so I’m sure she is the only neighbour around. Perhaps we could act out a little scenario for her benefit… Well, it’s worth a shot. Want to try?”

Ten minutes later we stepped out of the apartment onto the landing. Though the charade we had embarked on seemed transparent enough, I was happy to give anything a go in an attempt to remove any suspicion that I was staying. To convince Della of my apparent departure, I gave my friend what purported to be a farewell hug and called out “See you soon!”

Then I marched as noisily as I could across to the elevator. When I’d gone, Rachel would enter the other girl’s apartment and engage her in conversation. The plan was that while she kept her talking, I would come back surreptitiously and seize any opportunity that presented to slip back into our room unobserved.
I found enacting this little pantomime quite exciting but its success would call for steady nerve. To try and maintain my cool, I hummed to myself as I waited for the elevator to reach my floor.

When it finally arrived, “Bye, Rachel!” I called and stepped directly in. I gave the instruction “Ground floor please!” as clearly as I could, without actually shouting.

The attendant was an old black guy who regarded me dispassionately. “I ain’t deaf, honey” he grumbled as the door closed on us. “I surely soon will be though, if folks holler at me like that!”

I smiled my apology, but he remained unappeased and continued mumbling his complaints all the way down. I was glad when our short journey together was over. I exited as smartly as possible when we reached the bottom, but then it occurred to me that this was someone it might be impolitic to alienate. Doubtless I would be seeing more of the guy. I hastily turned back to thank him, but too late! The doors were already closing, so I was prevented from expressing my gratitude, but worse followed. As I spun around and back again, the fullness of my dress took charge. The skirts flared out dramatically so that the hem fluttered between the closing doors of the elevator and got caught there. I made to step forward but became aware that my freedom of motion was completely restricted. I was unable to move, held fast against the elevator doors!

Glancing over my shoulder it was easy to see the cause. Imagine my mounting horror as the machine began to ascend. I remained transfixed and the edge of my skirt began to be lifted. Higher and higher it went. Visions of being suspended against the ceiling of the lobby filled my mind but fortunately these were not to be realised. As the tension on my garment increased, something gave way and the dress’s upward motion was halted. Its hem remained firmly lodged high up in the crack between the doors. Left in the most compromising position with my skirts lifted up revealingly, I was trapped! Anyone who happened along would certainly see far more of what was underneath my dress than was good for my peace of mind!

I didn’t relish encountering the grumpy attendant again but what else was there for me to do? With some reluctance I rang for the elevator to return hoping that the reopening of the doors might set me free and restore my dignity. At the moment the lobby was empty, but I didn’t know for how long. I waited and waited and pressed the button again. The illuminated arrow above the elevator which indicated the floor it was on showed no sign of motion. I could have wept. How was a girl to cope?

In the end, I decided that only desperate measures would serve. With one hand I could reach far enough behind me to pull down the zipper of my frock. Once the garment was undone I wriggled out of it completely. With both hands I tried to pull the dress free, but try as I might, I was unable to retrieve it from where it was caught without tearing the material. That was unthinkable. The garment looked to be newly bought. It was probably quite an expensive item and moreover belonged to my friend.

Though the eventual reopening of the elevator doors would probably release the dress, I didn’t dare continue waiting for that to happen, clad only in my scanty underwear. There was only one course of action available to me. That was to leave my wayward clothing hanging there and try to get back into Rachel’s apartment unseen. It could be recovered later.

I slipped off my shoes and began to climb the stair as quietly as I could. Success or otherwise would be entirely a matter of chance. Fortune favoured me at first and I managed to ascend the first couple of flights without incident. In mounting the next one my luck ran out, however. Who should I meet coming down but… the young man whom Rachel had called Harvey!

Oh my gosh!

At first I thought that my attire, or the lack of it, had escaped his notice, unaccountably. Laden with a huge bundle, he gave me a friendly grin of recognition. In passing, however, he performed the classic double-take as we crossed on the stairs. There followed a series of thumps as the laundry he had been carrying tumbled down the rest of the flight.

“What?!”

Attempting to preserve what little of my modesty remained under such fraught circumstances I covered my pantied crotch with my purse and my overexposed bust with my shoes and turned to face my new companion. My only hope was to try and enlist him as a potential ally.

“It’s Harvey, isn’t it?”

He nodded, gazing at me dumbly, eyes staring into mine. He was endeavouring manfully to keep them from dropping to rove over my déshabillé. That called for a superhuman effort to be sustained and was not proving altogether successful. Perhaps understandably so! I took a deep breath. Unfortunately that made me aware that doing so thrust out my padded bosom as if it was seeking even more of his attention.

Desperately I ploughed on. “I’m Jennifer. If you’re wondering, well… the hem of my dress got stuck in the doors of the elevator down in the lobby. There was nothing I could do to free it without ripping it. I wonder… Would you… could you… see if you can get it loose for me? Please!!”

I opened my eyes to their widest in an attempt to look as helpless as I could. I accompanied this mute appeal with my best smile, although to be truthful I felt more like crying. He stood staring. It took him about a minute to comprehend my request, but when finally he did, he showed no further hesitation.

“My, my! Don’t you just get into some fixes?” he chortled. Then with a “Sure thing, sugar” he was gone.

Although it can’t have been more than five minutes before he returned, it seemed like an age as I waited, cowering in a corner of the stair. I prayed silently that no-one else might be treated to the sight of me in my exposed condition.
Then there, of a sudden, was my faithful assistant before me again. Harvey was grinning from ear to ear but more importantly he was holding out my dress to me.

“Here you are, sweetie!” He lifted it for me to slip over my head.

I needed no second invitation, but instinctively turned my back on this knight in shining armour, before dropping my protective shoes and purse. I certainly didn’t want him to get any closer a view of what they had been hiding! I lost no time in putting my head and arms through. When, at last, I could cover myself with my discarded garment again the relief was palpable. Feeling a little more myself now I was decent, I thanked him over again.

Harvey grinned and shrugged off my gratitude bashfully. Seeing he was ill at ease boosted my courage. My sense of the comedy of my position returned and flirtatiously I yielded to a fleeting temptation. In as nonchalant a manner as I could assume I asked him “Would you zip me, please?” I turned my back and waited.

Harvey seemed a little taken aback but then “Sure thing, sweetie! My pleasure!” Conscious of the gentle touch of his hands against my back while he fastened me, I experienced a thrill which went right through me. I even shivered. How weird! Why did this feel nice? After all he was only a guy?
Now more or less decent I became even bolder. “I’m hoping it isn’t torn. Can you see?”

My helper knelt and lifted the hem of the garment. He ran it through his hands, to examine it for damage. I turned right around as he did so, so he could check the entire circumference. My skirts brushed against him intimately as I did so.

“No. Looks fine to me!” was the result of his scrutiny. He stood up and I could see he had coloured deeply.

“Er… Thanks” I stammered. We’d ended up standing very close and an awkward silence ensued between us. After a few moments of mutely gazing into each other’s eyes Harvey broke the tension by explaining his dress retrieval technique.

“Want to know how I got it free. It was easy as pie! I rang for the elevator to come. I used the special ring I have so old Noah knows it’s me, otherwise he can take an age. While it was on its way down I held on to your dress with just the slightest tension and as soon as the doors started to open, it came free in my hand. I was up the first flight with it before the old guy realised what was happening. All the rest of the way back up the stairs I could hear him complaining! Not to worry. I’ll square him with a candy bar next time I see him.” My rescuer looked childishly pleased with himself.

“You are so clever… and so kind. I don’t know how I can thank you!” I murmured inadequately.

He picked up my discarded possessions and handed them to me. Wanting to express my gratitude more adequately, I may have rewarded him with a kiss on the cheek. Well I had to, really, didn’t I? I mean, it wasn’t that I wanted to kiss him. He was a boy, after all, but what else could I do? Somehow the embrace became more prolonged than I expected or intended and I was aware that my breasts, made more prominent by the unaccustomed padding in my borrowed bra, had pressed provocatively against his chest. It couldn’t be helped the way things were, but I could see he didn’t know where to look. Neither did I and an involuntary glance at the front of his pants (what was I thinking?) told me there was something else going on.

Curiously enough, a similar reaction was taking place in me. There was a pronounced tingling down below which I really wasn’t expecting. How strange! While I could be confident that everything would have been discreetly hidden, I was surprised how my body was reacting. It seemed entirely to have a mind of its own. In confusion I drew back and ran upstairs, waving a hurried farewell to my new friend He waved back before turning to retrieve his bundle from where it had fallen.

In contrast to the drama of the last ten minutes my clandestine return to Rachel’s room was uneventful and went entirely without a hitch. As I approached our landing I could hear my friend in conversation with her neighbour. She was standing just inside Della’s doorway with the door was almost closed behind her so that any view out of it would be effectively blocked. Taking advantage of her precaution I was able to slide silently past and into our apartment.

Safe at last!

Securely concealed in Rachel’s room I reflected on the embarrassing contretemps I had just experienced. One good result was that I seemed to have made a friend. Harvey had been kind and discreet and appeared to be someone I could safely trust if I had occasion to. With all the scrapes I was getting into I seemed to need every friend I could get! The down side was that here was yet another person who had come to know me as Jennifer, and provided another obstacle to overcome when I made my eventual transition back to masculinity. It couldn’t be helped and I tried to dismiss the attendant worry from my mind.
While I waited for Rachel to return I reflected on my recent encounter. As my thoughts dwelt on Harvey I felt that unexpected twitch in my nether regions again. He was good-looking, of course, but that didn’t matter to me, did it? I hoped I didn’t but the involuntary effect that another male was having on my body was now really starting to bother me.

How could that be happening?!
After another few minutes my friend reappeared in the room and with her finger to her lips she closed the door behind her. For further security she turned the key.

“You’re not here, remember!” she whispered.

Walking across to the radio she turned the set on and tuned the dial to a station which was playing country music, punctuated by the inevitable commercials. “There. That should cover us, provided that we keep our voices down.”

This precaution taken, I was able to relate my adventure of the elevator to my listener. While she was full of sympathy for my plight, there was a mischievous twinkle in her eye which she struggled to hide. By the end of my account she could contain herself no longer, and burst into muffled laughter.

“You’re unbelievable! You can’t manage an elevator ride without coming to grief.” Rachel stifled further merriment at my expense, before “My, but you’re a fast mover. It looks as if you have made a complete conquest of Harvey in just a single day. I don’t know how you do it” she giggled. “It’s just as well that I’m not interested in him myself. I couldn’t begin to compete!”

I was appalled. Surely that couldn’t be right! I could only stare at her in astonishment. Why would a boy be interested in me?

“And” pointing to my blushing countenance “by any chance might he be a hit with you too? Oh, Jennifer! Where will it all end?”

Where indeed?!

Diva Dismayed: Chapter 6 – Exploration
The arrangements for how we would sleep that first night were simplified by Rachel’s shift pattern. This particular weekend she was on duty between the hours of 10pm and 6am so I would be able to occupy her bed and sleep while she was at work with the bonus that both of us could sleep in comfort. Even more fortunately Della had the same shifts which meant our neighbour wouldn’t be around. Accordingly, after Rachel had left for the hospital I could wash up in the bathroom without fear of interruption. Back in the apartment I removed my borrowed clothing and put on a little night-dress which my friend had loaned to me. There were flimsy little panties to match. I lay myself down to rest thankful that the tumultuous events of the day were behind me. I was asleep before my head hit the pillow.

My slumbers were not undisturbed, however, despite my state of near exhaustion. Perhaps it was the unfamiliarity of my surroundings but in the middle of the night I found myself wide-awake. Though it was completely dark, I couldn’t get back off again and lay tossing and turning. Guilty thoughts such as the degree to which I was imposing on my friend’s generosity and involving her in risk crowded in on me. Mingled with these disturbing reflections were strange, or not so strange, feelings which I tried not to give attention to. The bedsheets smelt fresh and inviting, they held a lingering scent which served as a reminder that only the night before Rachel’s beautiful limbs had been stretched out where I now lay. Soon they would be reclining there again. The perfume underlined how intimate we had become. One result was that my body was now reacting in a way that was all too predictable. A tent had formed in the front of my skimpy panties which was something I didn’t at all desire! She was supposed to be like a sister to me, after all.

Trying to regain some kind of control, I made the resolve that I would be sure to arouse myself (in the getting out of bed sense!) before my guardian angel returned from work. Then she would be free to have her much-needed rest unhindered by my presence. Having taken this decision, I felt easier in my mind. I turned over and managed to drift off again. However, unsettling dreams haunted me for the remainder of the night, the final one of which seemed to have been triggered by what had happened in that evening’s last encounter with my new acquaintance, Harvey.

I was standing before the young man, clad only in my under-things, while he was holding out some sort of dress for me to put on. I reached out my arms to get it over my head, but became entangled in its voluminous folds. Try as I might I couldn’t pull the dress down to cover my bosom. As I lay enmeshed, I could feel the warmth of a body up close behind me. That sensation felt overwhelmingly pleasant and I started to surrender to it. An arm encircled me from behind and cupped my naked breast. That felt comforting and in response I pressed myself back against the source. Dimly I began to wonder who the arm belonged to and at that point I woke.

The room was beginning to get light. Half-conscious, I discovered that the sensation of being tangled had been caused by my nightdress riding up across my face. In consequence my top half was fully exposed. It was just a dream, but not everything I’d been experiencing had been part of it. The protective arm was real! Half awake, I sat up in panic. I was no longer alone in the bed. “What? Who?”

The arm around my chest pulled me back down and held me securely. “You’ve been dreaming. Go back to sleep” a voice murmured. “I’m completely pooped.”

Dimly I recognised that my bedfellow was none other than Rachel. She must have returned from her shift and had slid into the narrow bed beside me while I slept. Thus reassured, I heaved a sigh of relief and allowed myself to relax in her embrace. I felt totally safe. Then I must have drifted off again because the next time I surfaced, it was fully light and the sun was streaming through a gap in the drapes. In my sleep I had turned on my back and Rachel had her head against my shoulder. She was slumbering in my arms like a baby. A lock of her golden hair had fallen across my face. The sensation of its tickling had probably woken me. I gently removed it and wondering at its lustre fondled the strand gently. My lovely companion responded to this caress by snuggling closer to me, but she slept on.

Her nightdress was a little strappy affair and one of her wonderful breasts was spilled across my chest and one of her legs was stretched over mine. To be this close to someone I’d idolised for so long felt wonderful. Surprisingly I found myself beginning to become really aroused. That was something that hardly ever happened these days. In her sleep she moved the silken thigh which lay across me and it brushed tantalisingly across my panty-clad groin. In response my arousal developed into a full-scale erection. Oh no! That couldn’t be right. Though it felt like heaven to be so intertwined with this sweetly voluptuous body, I knew that I had to do something fast if I wasn’t to lose control.

I summoned up my last reserves of self-command and deliberately but softly slid my bottom half from underneath her and edged it gradually toward the edge of the bed. So far so good! Next I somehow managed to inch my top half free without disturbing my bedfellow. At last I was able to raise myself first to sit and then to stand. At this point Rachel gave a great sigh and turned over. However I could see she hadn’t woken and feeling disproportionately pleased that I hadn’t disturbed her rest, I cautiously covered her up again with the bedsheets.

I retrieved my clothing and slipped silently into the other room where I could dress myself without risk of waking her. I could see by my watch it was now 7:30am and I intended that my friend should sleep the whole morning away.

Today I’d planned to wear the other of the two dresses which I’d been loaned. Its floral pattern was quite striking but after all today was a Sunday and back home Mom always insisted I wear something more elaborate to mark that day of the week. I spent what seemed an inordinate of time perfecting the shaping of the padding inside my borrowed bra. The process of filling it out to my satisfaction was quite tricky but a dramatic bustline was the result. This rigmarole would hopefully be unnecessary if my own familiar clothes ever arrived and I could revert to a less well-endowed shape. I’d borrowed a pair of sandals that could be adjusted to fit me well enough. They offered a more practical choice of footwear than my bridal shoes. Once fully dressed, I applied my make-up with practised attention to detail. Finally! I was ready and able to face the day.

I had reasoned that it would be politic to leave the building before anyone was about. Rachel might then sleep on undisturbed. Later in the day I might return in the guise of a visitor. After scrawling a hurried note so my friend would know where I was if she woke in the meantime, I stepped out of the apartment and quietly closed the door behind me. It seemed that our nosey neighbour was also in the arms of Morpheus, so I braved the risk of using the bathroom before leaving. I took the stairs down to the lobby and left without incident. Now, where to spend the morning?

I had spotted a drugstore and soda fountain close by when we arrived the day before. It was only two blocks away and I reckoned that it would be open for business. I had a little cash in my purse so planned to buy myself a coffee and while away the time with a magazine. As it turned out the hour was too early and the store was closed. Well, no problem. The day was fine and I would go for a stroll and get to know the neighbourhood.

In the early morning the sidewalks were practically deserted and after a little I became conscious of how alone I was in this strange city. An occasional car passed me as I walked, but that was all. Anxiety that I wouldn’t get lost began to overtake me. I tried to dismiss my fretting as mere imaginings, but then a delivery van drove past me and pulled over some yards ahead. When I drew level with its window the vehicle drove off again, but not before I’d caught a glimpse of the driver leering at me through the side mirror. The idea that I must be worth a closer look made me smile but this unsought attention left me feeling more than a little vulnerable.

I caught a glimpse of myself in the plate glass of a shop window and was startled by the impression my reflection made, what my mother would have termed an eyeful! The gaudy frock I had on was hard not to notice. My state of agitation grew. Here I was, arrestingly dressed, in a strange city, with hardly any money, knowing virtually no-one and entirely uncertain as to what my future might hold. For the space of a couple of blocks I was prey to all kinds of fears.

I came upon a church where they were getting ready for their Sunday morning service. Though I wasn’t tempted to go inside, just seeing that building was there and the door was open made me feel a little better. I walked on trying to count my blessings as the saying goes. I reminded myself that in Rachel I had one good friend to look out for me. There was also the strong possibility that I’d made another one the day before. By the time I’d walked in a complete circle and returned to my starting point I could see that the drugstore was now doing business, so I hastened to enter. What I needed was coffee, and fast!

Sipping my drink a few short minutes later, I felt a whole lot more composed. I perused the pages of my magazine idly but it didn’t really hold my attention. Instead I spent the time musing over my restless night. That one of my disturbing dreams included my new friend Harvey gave me pause. His being part of such a stressful day made his figuring in it inevitable perhaps, but what bothered me more was how my body had reacted after my embarrassing encounter with him on the stairs.

My own view of my orientation, and one which I’d so far been able to sustain, was that I was straight. I wasn’t into guys, right. I liked girls. Holding on to this view was sometimes a struggle however, and I had to admit to myself that there had been confusing occasions in my young life when the retention of it was shaky. There was a period when I’d even had a regular boyfriend! To begin with, as I entered my teens, there had been no conflict in my mind. I saw myself as all boy. Later I’d come to accept that the proximity of a good-looking male might trigger unwanted fantasies running through my thoughts but these I always did my best to ignore. Well almost always! Okay, I sometimes found myself enjoying strange feelings! So what. That didn’t make me gay. Did it?!

While I was preoccupied with my musings, I hadn’t noticed that I had become an object of interest to some of the drugstore’s clientele. I should have figured that
a young woman sitting on her own might invite curiosity. The realisation dawned when, after I’d ordered my second coffee, a snigger or two made me aware that a couple of youths on the next table were nudging each other and grinning. I was familiar with this kind of showing off in front of girls. Though it was aimed at myself it didn’t bother me at all. It even provided some reassurance in that they were convinced I was female.

I sipped my drink finding it easy to act as if they weren’t there. There was more to follow. I saw that I was an object of interest to a seedy middle-aged guy across the other side of the room, and that was less welcome. His face bore an ingratiating smirk when he repeatedly tried to catch my eye. It happened whenever I looked up from my reading. Studiously I tried to ignore him and his meaning smiles. The man needed no encouragement, however, and before long he traversed the room and sat himself down in front of me.
After several abortive attempts at conversation by throwaway remarks, to which I made no response, he introduced himself point blank. “I’m Walter.”

Wishing not to seem too aloof I smiled vaguely at him and returned my attention to my magazine.

He repeated the piece of information and followed it up with a direct “What’s your name honey? You sure are a looker. You can call me Walt, if it takes your fancy.”

It didn’t! Sensitised by my encounter with the inquisitive Della the day before, I was reluctant to give even my name to a complete stranger, especially one who punctuated his attempts at conversation by ogling my prominent bust.

“Now don’t be coy,” urged my would-be admirer. “A sweet little thing like you! You certainly got something. Looks like yours don’t come by every day. I can make things happen. You and me ought to get to know each other.”

In your dreams!

I started to panic. I wanted to get out of there, and fast.

“Sorry, but I’m late” I blurted, and, gathering up my purse and magazine, rose from the table as quickly as I could.

My unwanted acquaintance was undeterred and got up to leave too. He gestured me to precede him, smiling disconcertingly all the time. Doubtless he was intending to accompany me. How was I to get rid of him? I panicked some more. Then I hit upon a visit to the restroom. That would offer an immediate escape to somewhere I couldn’t be followed and would appear only too natural, so I made a beeline for that haven. Once safe inside I took my time in there hoping that I’d shaken the man off. When I finally emerged, however, I was dismayed to recognise him in the outline of the male figure which was discernible through the frosted glass of the store doorway. The guy was apparently waiting outside for me. I found myself idly wondering if my excessive popularity should be blamed on the padded cups of my borrowed bra, and more pertinently, was this was what being stalked felt like?

Help!

Making an effort to get a hold of myself, I pummelled my brain, thinking “what would Rachel do?” With her looks, my glamorous friend must have had to deal with the advances of the freshest of the male species nearly every day of her life. I had no idea how she managed, but there seemed to be no end to her resourcefulness. Despairingly I looked around me. Next to the restroom was a door which presumably led to the back of the store. With a quick glance around to check no-one was watching I leaned back against it and when it gave under that pressure, slid myself through.

I stopped and listened but there seemed to be nothing to alarm me so I was encouraged to explore farther. Tripping quietly down a short hallway, I passed a storeroom and a small office. Everywhere was deserted and in seconds I had reached what looked like some kind of fire exit. There was a bar to press to open the door. Next minute I was through into the open air. That felt better! My relief was tempered by the realisation that I was in a small paved yard and that further progress was restricted by an eight foot wall. I heard the door spring shut behind me and it emitted a loud click. There could be no way back, and neither was there any gateway in the wall.

Trapped!

To resist the panic which started to rise inside me once again I reasoned that there had to be some way to escape. If all else failed I could hammer on the door until someone came but that would be a last resort. Eagerly scanning the yard I lit on a wooden crate lying near the door. It was old and splintered but it might just take my weight. I dragged it over against a corner of the outer wall and stood it on end. With a silent prayer I slung my purse over my arm before scrambling up onto the box. Creaking ominously it somehow held as I clung to the brickwork. By cautiously standing I could now reach the top of the wall sufficiently to haul myself up. Moments later I was precariously seated up there.

The drop down the other side was easy enough for me to manage. A pair of refuse cans had been left immediately below my perch so I would be able to make my descent onto the lid of one without due difficulty. I tossed my purse down and then jumped down. Dusting off my clothing, I thought I could congratulate myself on the ingenuity of my escape. I’d even accomplished my getaway without tearing my dress.

My euphoria was to be short-lived, however. I trotted down the back-alley I’d ended up in and emerged onto the main street. I was about fifty yards from the drugstore. Even now I could see my would-be admirer lounging in its doorway. Furtively I walked away as quickly as I could hoping not to attract any notice, but try as I might, the clip-clopping of my heels seemed to echo through the still morning air. I was also forced to go in the direction opposite to that needed to return to Rachel’s apartment. I had no choice.

I hadn’t gone more than a few steps when I heard a “Hey!” behind me and, turning my head a fraction, sure enough out of the corner of my eye could see the man, Walt, walking briskly in pursuit. Were all the male population of this place completely oversexed? I glanced around in desperation to see if I could hail a cab but there were none in sight.

Inspiration dawned as I came level with the church I’d passed earlier. Here was a potential refuge! The sound of a hymn being sung accosted my ears as I darted inside. In the foyer an elderly couple had stationed themselves to provide a welcome. I straightened my dress and tidied my hair before approaching them. I could have wished I was wearing a less striking choice of attire but, apparently unperturbed, the woman smiled disarmingly. “You’re not too late. They’re only on the first hymn, dearie”.

I breathed a sigh of relief and thanked her somewhat over-effusively. Then to my confusion she continued “Oh my, but you forgot your hat!”

I recalled how it would be regarded as unseemly for a woman to enter a church without her head covered. I must have looked aghast. The woman merely laughed at the expression on my face. “Don’t you fret, my poppet, try one of those for size!”

She indicated the windowsill where among other items lay several berets. The available items of headwear looked clean even if they were rather worn. “God is good! People are always leaving their belongings behind and sometimes that comes in handy.”

Tentatively I rummaged and found a white one which might go with my dress. Well, a single girl has to be mindful of appearances even in the direst straits! The man handed me a hymn book and smilingly told me I could find a seat anywhere. I crept quietly inside the worship hall. The building was about two thirds full and a wide cross-section of ages were represented. I saw a vacant pew near the back which would be inconspicuous.
Phew!

After a second hymn, the congregation sat down to hear the reading. It was from a psalm and began “God is our refuge and our strength, a very present help in times of trouble”. I was forced to admit the aptness of that verse on this particular occasion!

After some time inside the church I felt a lot calmer. I wondered about this man Walter and whether I’d overreacted. I consoled myself that I couldn’t have mistaken his undoubted advances. All the same I needed to get a hold of myself if I was to build any kind of life in this city. During the rest of that church service, I became more and more relaxed. Gradually I fell into a kind of doze until I came to with a start when the sermon reached a close. There were some ensuing prayers and after they had ended, the people started to get up. I guessed it would be the final hymn. That was my signal to depart and I was pleased to be able to slip unobtrusively out of the building. I even remembered to leave my borrowed beret on the windowsill. Five minutes later I was climbing the stairs of the apartment block once more, having taken the precaution of checking there was no sign of my former pursuer before I entered.

I clopped across the landing and knocked loudly on Rachel’s door. The noise was for Della’s benefit. Hopefully she would be awake and get the idea I was just visiting again. That might help remove any suspicion I might have staying there. It was evident even before the door opened that my friend had been up and doing. The competing smells of toast, coffee and bacon combined in a gloriously fragrant cocktail which was balm for my frayed nerves. It smelt so good and homely that it was all I could do to stop myself bursting into tears all over again!

Diva Dismayed: Chapter 7 – My place
On my return to the apartment I was aching to tell Rachel all about my morning, but she made me sit down and eat before she would hear a word. Once I’d started eating I realised just how hungry I was and by the time the initial pangs had been satisfied, all the stresses of the last couple of hours had melted away. My friend then gently elicited from me the details of my adventure in her usual way. Sharing all the details of my little adventure with her was exactly what I needed. Even I had to laugh when I realised how absurd some of my anxieties sounded on retelling.

“I think you need a bit of coaching on how to handle the sort of optimists that a good-looking girl is bound to encounter sooner or later” was Rachel’s conclusion after hearing my tale.

To be referred to as good-looking by someone who looked so stunning herself caused a thrill of satisfaction to run through me. My lovely friend’s opinion counted for a great deal with me. Eager to improve my social skills I nodded in anticipation and began to ask, “Yes. How…?”

Rachel held up her hand to stem the torrent of questions I was ready to unleash on her. When I had subsided she continued. “Well, I can think of two effective methods that would be second nature to most girls of your age.”

I gazed at her open-mouthed. This was what I needed to know.

“One way is to play along with your potential admirer, joking and flirting a little so he doesn’t turn aggressive, but trying to establish that you are in control. Once that’s accomplished then you can take leave and make your exit if you need to, always hinting that there may be a next time. That approach keeps everything pleasant, but…” Then, somewhat doubtfully, “a girl does need to have a lot of personality to bring it off successfully.” She stopped and regarded me to gauge the effect of her words. “Perhaps that may be a little difficult for someone so young and… well…”

“Naïve?”

“I was going to say, inexperienced.” Kindness was always a trait Rachel strove for and I hid a smile at her delicacy.

“It sounds like it could be a lot of fun.”
Her eyebrows rose at my remark.

“But I can see it might be a little risky” I hastily added. Memories of an occasion when I had mischievously flaunted myself in the direction of an oversexed librarian back in my home town fleeted through my brain. That had nearly ended in disaster and I coloured up at the recollection. Other occasions too, and less innocent, came to mind where perhaps I’d had more in the way of experience than Rachel was allowing.

“And the other approach?” I asked quickly, to hide what was going through my head.

“Well, you look as disdainful as you can, like you just found something unpleasant on the sole of your shoe. You don’t worry at all about being unfriendly. After all, you can always thaw out later if you change your mind about the guy.”

“Is that why pretty girls appear so scornful all the time?”

“Why should you be surprised? It’s only self-preservation! There’s a jungle out there and women are at the bottom of the food chain when it comes to staying safe. You’ll soon learn!”

“I guess so.”

We were silent for an interval. Then, “On a different subject. Are you ready to make that other phone call?”

She meant the one I needed to make to my now ex-fiancée. My heart sank, but I knew I had to do it. After all, when you leave someone virtually standing at the altar, the least you can do is let them know why.

“Not really. But I guess I’d better.”

I hesitated, then “It’s going to be so awkward. What will I say?”

Half an hour later, the call had been made. It had been about as unpleasant as I’d feared beforehand but I felt a lot better afterwards.

Probably to take my mind off what I’d just been through, Rachel became instantly practical again. “Now. The most crucial matter for our attention is that we have to find you somewhere to live.”

“To be sure.”

That need was pressing enough to clear my thoughts of anything else. Rachel said she felt positive that there were empty apartments both on her floor and on the one below and hazarded the possibility that my renting one might be arranged. In our favour, the time of year was quite propitious. We were in the middle of the summer vacation.

But how? I looked at her helplessly. With no money at my disposal I couldn’t begin to imagine how such things were to be managed.

My friend scolded my lack of resourcefulness. “Don’t be such a… well, such a shiftless Shirley!”

I stared uncomprehendingly. “What’s a shiftless Shirley?”

She laughed gaily. “Good expression, don’t you think? It’s a term I just made up, and it’s what you’re in danger of turning into if you keep letting everything defeat you, without even trying. Tomorrow we’ll go and see the warden. Her office is down on the ground floor. Not today, though. She seems very old-fashioned and I feel sure that trying to arrange anything on a Sunday just wouldn’t do.”

I could only agree to this suggestion, though privately I had little faith in her optimism. For the rest of the day we had the leisure to enjoy each other’s company. There was plenty to talk about and we spent a pleasant afternoon chatting. I was glad of the opportunity to get to know my friend more intimately. I was very curious about my friend’s social life and in particular, about a certain subject. Boyfriends!

“I want to hear all about you, Rachel. Are you seeing anyone?”

“Not right now.”

Her manner was coy and led me to press my question further.

“No? I can tell there is someone you like. Let me guess. Does he work at the hospital?” I hazarded.

It was my friend’s turn to colour up. “Why do you want to know? You’re worse than Della.”

A little more wheedling on my part encouraged her to open up to me a little. “Well, it’s nothing really, but I quite like one of the doctors. He’s sweet but very serious.” She shrugged, “I don’t think he’s even noticed me in that way.”

“What’s his name?”

“He’s called Stephen, but it’s no big deal. I’m really not ready for a relationship.”

I was aware how her last real relationship hadn’t ended well. It was also evident that she wasn’t over it yet. I didn’t know how to help but I promised myself I would try. At the minimum doing so would give me focus on concerns other than my own. She got up to prepare some food for our supper, leaving me to reflect how vulnerable she seemed just then. Absent-mindedly I took her uniform from the closet and started to press it ready for her evening shift. This had been one of my regular duties for Mom at home, so I started on it mechanically without thinking what I was at. When I looked up I was surprised to see my friend’s eyes were tearful.

“You don’t have to do that, you know,” she smiled through the tears.

“Oh, it’s nothing. I’m used to housework and it’s nice to do something for you after all you’re doing for me.”

Next thing I was enfolded in her arms. “You don’t know what it means to me just having you here. I’ve felt a bit lonely at times in these past months. I know I’ve been home a couple of times, and Mom and Chris came over to see me, but it’s too long a journey to be doing very often. I’m so glad you’re going to stay.” Then with a visible effort to appear brighter, “It’s going to be real fun!”

After Rachel had left for work that evening I kept the necessary low profile and retired to bed early. I slept much more soundly that night and when she returned from her shift next morning I was already awake. Though she protested that there was no need, I got up and dressed myself, so she could sleep the morning away undisturbed.

About noon my friend joined me in the living room. I’d toasted rolls and made coffee and after this brunch she stirred us both into action.

“Come on! We’ve a dragon to slay!” I knew to whom she was referring, the dreaded personage of the warden. My confidence plummeted again. Though I quailed inwardly, I was encouraged by my friend’s bravado. I followed her out of the apartment and down the stairs.

“No need to be scared, Jennifer” she chided as she rapped on the door. “This one doesn’t breathe fire! Or so we hope!”

A stout middle-aged woman answered the knock straightaway. I caught Rachel’s eye in consternation and had to stifle my laughter. Hopefully her joke hadn’t been overheard! Mrs King had her jacket on and had apparently been about to leave the building herself.

“Yes. What can I do for you?” she frowned at us.

Oh dear. Perhaps this wasn’t a good time.

Rachel was unfazed by this chilly reception and got straight to the point. “Oh Mrs King. I’m sorry to bring this matter up if it’s not convenient right now, but we’re hoping you can help. This is my friend Jennifer. She’s a new student at the faculty and is looking for accommodation. I was wondering about one of the vacant apartments on the third floor or on mine. Would she perhaps be able to rent one of those?”

“Well, I suppose I can look. What is she studying?”

“She’s just about to enrol on a course on skin therapy.”

Shocked by this evidence of my rescuer’s ingenuity I tried not to gape at her. Was there even such a discipline as skin therapy?

The warden examined me more closely. Bravely I tried to look relaxed under her intense scrutiny. Then a glimmer of recognition lit up her face and she started to thaw out. “Say now! Didn’t I see you in church yesterday morning?”

“I guess. Yes, probably.” I nodded, thanking providence for what was a lucky coincidence.

The woman positively beamed at me. “I thought so. It’s good to meet a young person with the right priorities. Come in. Come in and sit down.”

We entered a small room off her hallway which looked as if it served as an office and sat as invited while she went to retrieve a much-used ledger.
“Hmm. Let me see. The rooms on your floor are all spoken for, Rachel, but apartment 33 on the one below... Yes, that’s still free. I can’t think of a reason why your friend shouldn’t have that one. The terms would be the same as your own. She’ll need to pay a week’s rent in advance, of course.”

“Oh. Er… That could be a little tricky.” My friend turned her head and winked covertly at me. “Your allowance doesn’t come through till the end of the month, does it, Jennifer?”

I shook my head, wide-eyed. I was out of my depth. How any of this could be made to work was beyond me. All I could do was to put my trust in my friend who seemed to have come up with a plan. I was prepared to go along with whatever she said.

“Hmm. Well...” Mrs King temporised. “Well, I can make an exception, I suppose, as you’re so regular with the rent yourself and she’s a friend of yours; a God-fearing girl too.” She beamed at me again.

I joined Rachel in expressing our sincere gratitude. Ten minutes later we were taking stock of what was to be my new apartment. It was sparsely furnished but clean, which was something I could appreciate. For as long as I could remember, my efforts had been the principal means of keeping my parental home spotless, not to mention the variety of jobs as a maid which Mom had found for me over the years.

“How did you come up with the skin therapy course?” I wondered.

“Oh, I’d seen it advertised on a notice board. At the time it struck me as something rather novel and the recollection of it just came to me in a flash”.

“It was an absolutely brilliant idea!”

She smiled modestly. “Well, it will be the ideal thing for you to study, having all that past experience in the beauty salon. We’ll get you enrolled on it as soon as ever we can.”

“Really?”

“Oh, yes, definitely. For one thing, you couldn’t keep up the pretence otherwise. A ‘God-fearing’ girl like you mustn’t have been telling Mrs King a lie!”

The extent to which Rachel seemed to have a natural gift for harmless deceptions of this nature was a revelation to me. I’d always thought of her as an artless soul. I would clearly have to alter my estimation of her talents in that direction!

We returned to her room and while I would have been happy to rest on our laurels, my friend was ready for more. “Now we are ahead, let’s find you a job.”

To my mind that undertaking seemed next to impossible in this strange town. Where would I even start to look? Rachel was untroubled by the seeming magnitude of the task however.

“Let’s see. You’ve already worked in a library, also in Madeleine’s salon and you’ve had various jobs as a maid. Which of those did you like best?”

I thought for a minute. “Definitely not as a maid.” My friend giggled merrily at the face I pulled in making this declaration.
“The library was okay, I guess, but the salon was better. The girls were such fun. We had so many laughs. They were a riot!”

“I was hoping you would say that.” She fetched the newspaper and turned up the job ads section and for the next five minutes was lost in study. When she resurfaced, “There are two beauty parlours here wanting staff and which look promising. I’ve circled them. Shall I call them for you?”

I nodded vigorously, “Yes, please.”

Ten minutes later we were in her car and headed downtown. I couldn’t believe it but I had an interview later that same afternoon and was already getting butterflies at the prospect.

The salon was situated on the corner of Fifth and Main. Externally its décor was ultra-modern (for the late fifties) and upbeat. I liked the look of the place immediately. There was a ‘Closed’ sign on the front door as it was quite late in the day by then, but we’d been asked to come to the side entrance and ring the bell. We were admitted by an elegant woman who I guessed might be in her early forties. It was probably just my imagination but at first sight she bore a passing resemblance to my ex-fiancé. The likeness stopped me in my tracks. Fortunately Rachel had taken charge of the introductions so by the time I came to greet the woman in my turn, the impression had faded and I was able to respond coherently. It helped that she had a pleasant down to earth manner and a friendly smile.

Her name was Mrs Millward and when we’d been seated in her office, she explained that she was the proprietor of the business. She asked me to explain why I was looking for work and to state the extent of my former experience. My mind immediately went blank, but my friend gave me an encouraging look and after a little more hesitation I launched into my story. It was brief!

“I’ve just turned sixteen and I’m about to start studying at the faculty here, so I need some work to finance my studies. For over a year I’ve worked part-time in a salon back home so I’m confident I won’t let you down if you decide to give me a job.”

It all came out with a rush and I had to stop to take a breath. I could see the woman was hiding a smile, but her demeanour seemed kindly. She questioned me in some detail about the work I had done. Then she wanted to know where I was staying. Finally she asked about the course I would be studying. This was the bit I was dreading, “Er… ”

Fortunately Rachel stepped in and took the question in her stride. “It’s a new course they are offering at the faculty here. The subject is skin therapy. I imagine in a few years’ time it will be a pre-requisite for every girl who aspires to become a beautician. Jennifer will need two afternoons each week free to attend lectures when they start. The rest of the studying will be in her own time. The course begins in September.”

“That sounds perfect.” Mrs Millward seemed very satisfied, thankfully. “The one thing remaining is your references. Can I contact your last employer?”

I must have looked aghast at the prospect.

“You had rather I didn’t. Why is that?” Her manner had become noticeably frosty.

There was only one thing for it. I would have to come clean. I gave the name of Madeleine’s parlour and haltingly tried to explain. “The owner and I didn’t part on good terms. The reason I left was nothing to do with my work. It was more of a personal matter…” My explanation sounded very lame to me. That would be the end of this attempt, then. It was such a shame. I’d really high hopes of this place up until that point.

Mrs Millward thought for some minutes, then “Well. Ordinarily I wouldn’t take you on without references. However I have heard of the place where you were working and I once met the owner some time ago, so I can perhaps understand how things might not have been easy there. Here is what I’m prepared to do. I’ll give you a trial for two weeks. You can start the day after tomorrow. Report here to Rosa, the manageress, and we’ll see how it goes. She’ll be expecting you at 9am.”

I was so overjoyed at her decision that I hardly took in the instructions she had given me. I had to stop myself running over and hugging her. Instead I exchange a delighted glance with Rachel. This all seemed much too good to be true.

After a diversion to the drugstore to pick up a few essentials, we arrived back at the residence and I spent a happy evening settling in to my room; with Rachel’s assistance, of course. I had only a few borrowed items of clothing to put in my drawers and closet so we needn’t have taken as long as we did, but all the same it was fun to arrange everything just so. I was mistress of my own home for the very first time. That sounded odd to my mind but it would have seemed even odder to think of myself as being master of anything!

When I went to bed that night, I ought to have slept like a log but it took me a long time to fall asleep. The sounds and smells were all strange to me and I took ages to settle. It was consequently quite late when I awoke. I drowsed awhile thinking how nice it would have been to have Rachel’s body huddled up next to me. After more mature consideration however, I reckoned that it was probably better that she wasn’t there. Every time she hugged me I was subject to a ‘stiff’ reminder that there were limits to my self-control. I just needed to focus on thinking of her as my sister. How hard could that be?!

Diva Dismayed: Chapter 8 – Decision time
It was late when I got out of bed to start my day. That would be the last time I could so indulge myself. Tomorrow I would be a working ‘girl’. I discovered with pleasure that the shared bathroom on my landing had the luxury of a lock to the door which actually worked. I was relieved to learn that I would be able to make my ablutions there without fear of interruption. On this occasion I spent an inordinate amount of time in there on my make-up, hair and nails. I was looking forward to a day of doing whatever I fancied. Freedom!

I quietly let myself into Rachel’s apartment using a spare key. She and I had exchanged keys, one of hers for one of mine. The knowledge that I was now able to enter my guardian angel’s room unbidden at any time of day or night, just like family, felt comforting. She had suggested this arrangement herself and evidently shared the same feeling. That seemed surprising to me in someone so apparently mature and confident. Once inside, I could see that the door to her bedroom was ajar and that the drapes were still closed. I guessed that the occupant might be sound asleep after finishing her nightshift in the hospital. So with as little noise as possible I set about making toast and coffee.

Despite my precautions, however, after only a few minutes, Rachel joined me in the living room.

“Mmm. Something smells good” she murmured sleepily as she came up behind me and gave me a hug. The sensation of her shapely body being pressed against me provided me with another of those illicit thrills. It would have been delicious to reciprocate but I strove to ignore the temptation. She was my best friend, remember, and that was all.

Conquering my momentary embarrassment over my wayward thoughts, I turned to face my idol. “Breakfast’s nearly ready!”

“Oh goody, goody! I’m starving! Thank heaven that was the last time I’ll be on nights this month and…” she grabbed me and danced me round and round… “I don’t have to work now until Friday!”

Captivated by her childlike gaiety, I gave up trying to retain control of myself and squeezed her tightly to me. Thankfully the arousal that would have resulted was safely taped away and in any case would have been concealed under my dress. Those uncalled-for feelings might just remain hidden. With an effort I turned my attention to the food preparation once more. Minutes later we were seated at the table eating happily. After we’d breakfasted, I asked her what she thought I ought to do next. Although not always as clueless as this, I had come to depend on my resourceful friend’s ability to plan ahead. I was not disappointed now.

“Well, first of all you need to be ready to start your job. For instance it would be worth-while getting hold of a local bus timetable. How else will you get to work?”

That task was something I ought to be able to handle easily. Probably the drugstore would be sure to have one. Before the end of the day I was as ready as I could be, clothes newly laundered and laid out for my first morning. There was another question going round in my head which formed a large remaining cloud on my horizon. How was my fictitious status as a student to be resolved? It was essential to get enrolled, if I were to continue to rent my new home. When I mentioned this to her, Rachel was confident that it wouldn’t be an issue.

“The skin therapy course, as I understand, is a totally new one with quite an experimental set of topics for study. That means they’ll need to get the numbers up so it gets established in the curriculum. They’ll be crying out for attendees to fill up the classes. I’ll be amazed if you aren’t snapped up the minute you enquire about enrolling. Your new job at the beauty parlour and your past experience at Madeleine’s won’t do your chances any harm either.”

I didn’t quite share her confidence but in the event, Rachel’s estimation proved to be correct and no difficulties arose when I went along to apply. I was soon set fair to experience life as a college student that fall.

In the meantime, once I'd recovered from my unpromising first day at the beauty parlour I settled smoothly into the daily routine there. The work came easily to me, for under my parent’s tutelage I had become competent first with my own make-up, nails and hair, then my Saturday job developed my skills even further. To be engaged in a familiar occupation where I felt capable in what I was doing restored my self-confidence and the first two weeks went by without a hitch. At the end of that trial period, my place at the salon was made permanent.

The event which made the next significant change to my circumstances was the arrival of a steamer trunk. It was delivered at the end of my first week and contained a selection of my clothes and shoes from home. Rather incongruously I felt disappointed that Mom had packed only female items of clothing though upon reflection I had to admit that I no longer owned any boys’ stuff and none would have fitted me if I had. The delivery opened up the prospect of a wide range of possible outfits. Underwear too. My padded bosom could be returned to its ‘normal’ size, thankfully, and I need no longer be restricted to wearing those few items of Rachel’s which more or less had fitted me and which I now laundered and returned to her. I managed to scrape together enough cash to buy her a pretty bunch of flowers. I had so much to be grateful for and this was an opportunity to express my thanks.

As I unpacked I experienced a further disappointment. I could find nothing loose-fitting among my mother’s selection of dresses, skirts and pants. My new wardrobe consisted entirely of the sort of in-fashion items which depended on the wearer having a narrow waistline. Waist-training was a fundamental part of my feminising regime and one which I’d been hoping to dispense with. My mom had introduced this practice with the aim of giving an hour-glass shape to my figure and admittedly it had met with considerable success. Over the past year the discipline had included the wearing of a waist-cincher by day and a steel-boned corset by night. While I found the latter uncomfortable at first, continual practice made me so used to wearing one that sleeping without now felt strange.
Predictably my trunk of clothing included some of those waist-constricting items I had become all too familiar with. Even though I was now theoretically free of my parent’s control, I had to admit that my tight-lacing regime remained a necessity. That is, of course, unless I replaced most of the outfits I now possessed and I was aware that those purchases were well beyond my slender purse.

In consequence when getting ready for bed that evening I resumed my corset-wearing routine. Before I retired I gazed at my image resignedly. As expected it revealed that sought after hour-glass shape. The inescapable conclusion was that my lifestyle choices were narrower than I’d hoped or intended.

Earlier that same day Rachel had broached a related topic. “There’s another matter you need to consider. Those meds which you take each day must be running low. What are you going to do about getting more?”

“Oh, that’s all right. My dear mother thoughtfully included a further supply when she sent my clothes. Now as things stand I have enough for a couple of months.” After a pregnant pause I added tentatively, “I was thinking I might give them a miss.”

I’d made no secret of my desire to regain my male status to Rachel and she had been generally supportive. Now, however, my friend looked doubtful. “In that case there are some important choices which you should be weighing about your future. It’s complicated so first of all you ought to see a medical specialist. I know someone who works in the department of endocrine medicine at the hospital and they might help.” Seeing my blank look she put it in simple terms. “Hormones. I’ll try and pull a few strings and get you an appointment with a consultant in that field.”

In the days since I’d left home I’d made no alteration to the medication I’d been taking. Fortunately I’d had a small supply of pills in my purse to last me two or three weeks but as the number dwindled I had started to wonder what I ought to do about it. Mom had got them directly from the clinic where she worked and their precise nature had always been shrouded in mystery. To begin with she’d referred to them as vitamins. That was clearly untrue and even now I didn’t even know exactly what I’d been taking, although I understood some of their effects well enough. The original salmon coloured ones were evidently feminising hormones of a kind, and there was another pill with which I’d been prescribed more recently. The impact of this one was different but dramatic nonetheless. A review of all these meds was clearly overdue and it was very timely that my friend and mentor had raised the matter.

Just as she promised, within a few days Rachel had managed to arrange a consultation with a Doctor Beckwith for me. I’d have preferred her to come along too but she was working that morning so I entered his consulting room alone and with some trepidation. Not altogether logically I’d picked out one of my nicest dresses to wear, even though I guessed I would probably have to undress completely in front of the doctor at some point. Knowing that I was looking my best ought to boost my morale. On the short walk to the block where the doctor’s consulting room was situated doubts filled my mind. How girlie had my brain become these days to be so concerned with my appearance? I arrived early for the appointment but despite that I was shown straight in.

The physician was a tall man wearing spectacles. He had a short imperial beard and neatly arranged hair. I found his manner so disarming that when straightaway he asked me to undress, to comply with his request seemed completely natural. I didn’t even feel embarrassed when he produced a tape measure and motioned me to stand before him in complete nakedness. He first took a series of measurements of my chest, measuring under my bust, around the fullest part and its distance below my shoulder. He then progressed to a detailed inspection of what was below. In anticipation I had peeled off the usual controlling strips of surgical tape which I applied each morning. After the most thorough physical examination I was allowed to make myself decent again. Then he sat and, looking grave, indicated for me to sit in the chair opposite him.

“Now young er… lady. That is how you see yourself, I gather, er… Jennifer. You see yourself as a young woman.”

I nodded, but then after a moment added anxiously. “Well, I know I’m not really a girl. I didn’t start off that way. It’s just that now, well mostly I am like one and I live like one.”

“Yes, yes. Yours is a most unusual and interesting case. Perhaps not quite as rare as might be thought, but it may be that we don’t get to see too many similar ones. I understand you have been taking hormonal supplements for some time now?”

“For about two years.” I picked up my purse and took out my supply of pills. “My mother is a nurse and she had them prescribed for me.” I indicated the pink ones. “First of all I was just taking these, two every day and then after a few months the dose went up to three. I’m not sure why. Then a couple of months later I started on these.” I pointed to other ones. “One a day.”

Dr Beckwith picked the boxes up in turn and eyed them closely. He seemed quite excited and made some scribbled notes on a jotter. “I see. I see. That is quite a curious regimen. I don’t think I’ve seen anything documented about the probable effects on a person of your years. I would hazard that they are likely to be quite dramatic. Alongside these feminising hormones, this single pill is what is known as an anti-androgen. It effectively blocks the testosterone your body produces allowing the hormones to take their fullest effect.”

He referred to his notes. “Being subjected to this combination may go some way to account for your body’s shape. The development of your chest, and of your hips and upper thighs is uncommonly advanced and that might well be as expected. Your waist, however, is very small in relation to your torso. Tell me, how long has the proportion been that way?”

I explained how in recent years I’d been practicing waist-training both in the daytime and at night. “It all started when I was being got ready for my fifteenth birthday celebration and that turned into quite a big occasion. It was important that I wear a special dress, which I could only just fit into. There were exercises which I started doing too to help tone up my shape. I’ve continued with the whole rigmarole pretty much ever since.”

“Was this your own idea, or someone else’s?”

I shrugged. “My mom’s mostly, and she was so pleased with how well it all had worked that she made me see that it would be a shame to stop and lose all the benefit. So I went along with what she said. I didn’t like the idea at first but I got used to it quite quickly. It helps my confidence to know I look like an attractive girl. That sounds very vain, but I like being admired, I guess, and I think the shape of my figure makes it less likely anyone would suspect what I really am; anyone that didn’t know, I mean.”

The doctor regarded me solemnly for the space of several minutes. I began to feel quite anxious. This couldn’t be good.

When he spoke, however, his words were reassuring. “Well er… Jennifer. First of all, you are a very healthy young… er… person. Although your body shape is quite… unusual, I can comprehend how it has developed the way it has. I imagine however that one of the other effects of these hormones may be that your response to sexual stimuli will be quite limited. Your genitalia are under-developed and any erections you experience are likely to be fairly insignificant.”

His tone was matter of fact but I blushed to the roots of my hair at hearing his analysis. I only hesitantly agreed, thinking of… well… of the effect Rachel’s proximity sometimes had on me. “Usually, yes. Not always, but usually.”

He continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “The question to be addressed now is, how do you want to proceed going forward? Do you wish to continue with these medications or not? You need to understand that some of your bodily developments might be reversible, but others almost certainly won’t be. For instance, these” he indicated my well-developed breasts, “are here to stay, barring surgical removal, of course. Their presence will mean that to try and live a full life as a man might be difficult for you.”

That wasn’t what I wanted to hear.

He paused to let his words sink in before resuming. “Other than trying to do that, there are two practicable alternatives, as I see it. You may wish to continue along the path on which you are now embarked. If so, then I can prescribe the appropriate drugs without any alteration. The other choice would be an intermediate course of action. This would entail the reduction of your daily hormonal intake and discontinuing the androgen blocker. You can think of it as a sort of maintenance regime, where your body will appear essentially feminine as it is now, but you may regain some sexual potency.”
Dr Beckwith took up his pad and a pen. “I will write you a full prescription when you decide which of these courses of treatment to follow, in your own good time of course. I may also consult a colleague.”

He stopped. “The frontiers of medicine are constantly advancing. Before many months, there may be yet another option to think about. In recent years a French gynaecologist has reportedly had some success performing surgery which enables the patient’s gender to be, as it were, reassigned. The man’s body in these cases would then outwardly resemble that of a woman in every detail. On this side of the Atlantic it is still early days, but the possibility will arise that at some point in the future you could live fully the life of a woman, if you so choose. Oh, child-bearing excepted, of course.”

“If you think you may want to consider going down that road, you should keep all options open. I conclude your best course of action to be for your prescription to remain unchanged at least for the next two years or so. Then after your body has stopped growing, switching to the maintenance regime would then serve you equally well.”

My head was spinning too fast in trying to take in all this information. I didn’t know how to make any response.

He gave a wry smile as he handed me his card to indicate our interview was at an end. “There’s plenty for you to consider. Let me know your decision by the end of the week. In the meantime, good luck!”

I did a lot of considering on the way back to my apartment. There was much too much to think about, but walking briskly helped me come to some conclusions. If the doctor was to be believed, there was no workable choice but to continue as a female for now. The possibility of regaining my masculinity in the near future had been denied to me, apparently, and I ought to feel devastated, but I actually felt okay about it. I had to admit to myself that I enjoyed some parts of life as a girl. Having a body that I’d been told was attractive was one such aspect. With the optimism of youth I entertained a vague hope that perhaps when medical science had advanced further then I would be able to return to my male self someday. Who knew when, however?

What I wasn’t happy about was that though I found girls and women attractive, my body was unable to do anything much about it. Perhaps Dr Beckwith’s intermediate option might provide a solution to that particular problem. That way I might be able to retain my current girly shape and fulfil a relationship at the same time. I decided there and then that the maintenance regime was worth a try. But when? Right now, or should I wait a couple of years as the doctor had suggested? Probably that. Having reached that conclusion, I decided that if I had to be a girl in the meantime, then I should aim to be the girliest girl I could be.

What was still disturbing to me was the way my body sometimes reacted to ‘stimuli’ in the shape of other boys, or even men. That wasn’t something I wished for, but it seemed to be beyond my control. I guessed that it might be the meds that were the cause of this. My head craved one thing and my body another. The good doctor hadn’t had anything to say on that subject, unfortunately.

Just then my reverie was interrupted by my name being called. I became aware that someone had repeatedly tried to attract my attention but I’d been too deep in thought to respond. “Hi Jennifer!”

I turned to see it was none other than my new friend Harvey. He was seated in the cab of his red pickup with his characteristic broad grin on his face. The vehicle was parked up in front of a laundry building.

“I’m just about to get some of my rounds done” he explained. “Can I give you a ride anywhere?”

“Thanks, but not this time” I declined. “I’ve been having a pleasant walk. It helps when you’ve a lot on your mind.”

“Well then I’ll walk with you, if that’s okay. I don’t need to start work for another half-hour.”

I smiled my acceptance. It would be good to take a break from turning the doctor’s words over and over in my mind and Harvey’s company would provide a pleasant distraction. I resumed my progress with my new escort in attendance. It was strange but to have the company of a good looking young man felt somehow nice. It wasn’t that I was attracted to him, of course. How could I be? I mean, really!

Next thing I knew was that my hand accidentally brushed against his as we strolled along. Instinctively I pulled it away out of reach. How had that happened?! What if he thought I was flirting and inviting him to hold hands with me? Which I didn’t, of course. Though it would have been okay I guess, no big deal. Anyway he didn’t take me up on the offer, which wasn’t an offer, thank goodness, and I wasn’t disappointed. Well perhaps just a teeny bit. I expected that he might have wanted to hold my hand. Surely I didn’t look that bad. What am I thinking? I needed to stop this train of thought right there!

To ensure we were on the right footing, whatever that might be, I told my new friend how it was good to have some company in a town I didn’t know.

He became very serious, “I think it matters too. This neighbourhood is okay, but there are one or two areas in town that a pretty girl really shouldn’t go walking in, on her own. You will be safe with me of course.”

I thanked my self-styled protector smilingly, and actually I did feel more at ease. And he’d called me pretty! Which naturally didn’t matter to me in the least. Oh, don’t start all that again!

Harvey’s next words helped me get my head together. “You’re all dressed up today. Is that for a special occasion? Don’t say it’s your birthday and I didn’t know.”

I laughed and denied it. “No, that was a month or so ago. I had a doctor’s appointment, just girl stuff, you know. It helps me feel more confident if I know I look okay.”

“You look more than okay! I would have you down as one snappy dresser. Every time I’ve met you, you’ve been wearing something pretty.”

Then thinking of the last occasion we met and my scanty attire that time, he blushed bright red. “Oh, I meant your dresses, not what you wear underneath… Though that’s nice too, of course, well more than nice… er… I mean… ”

“Keep digging” I laughed.

The boy’s confusion was palpable and seeing his discomfort I became so overcome with mirth that I forgot to be embarrassed myself. When he realised I’d seen the funny side of his comment, he looked mightily relieved and joined in my laughter.

When we’d recovered our composure there was an awkward pause. It was clear that a safer topic needed to be broached, but my mind was a complete blank.

“So,” my companion inquired eventually, “what made you decide to come all the way to live over here, if you don’t mind my asking? It’s a big step for someone so young.”

I liked Harvey a lot but saw no advantage in giving out too much information to anyone. I kept to a safe minimum. “Oh, I’m enrolled on a course at the faculty. Skin therapy. It’s new and sounds really interesting. I can’t wait to start.”

“Don’t you miss your folks? I know I would.”

“My friend Rachel is staying here so that makes up for being away from home. I’ve known her since I was this high. She used to babysit me! What with my job and with settling in, I’ve been too busy to miss anyone.”

He looked his interest so I continued “I’m working at a beauty parlour downtown. Back home I used to do that part time to earn some cash, so I’ve got some useful experience. It chimes in with what I’ll be studying too. The salon’s very busy. I don’t get a minute while I’m there. The supervisor is a bit of a stickler, but the other girls are really nice and the lady that owns the place too. I’ve really fallen on my feet, getting a place there.”

While we talked I was intrigued to see a look on Harvey’s face that smacked of admiration. Yes, that was it, admiration. We fell silent for a moment. His next words proved to be a confirmation of my surmise. “You’re quite a gal, you know!”

I resisted uttering the exclamation “You have no idea!” which came unbidden into my head. I hoped I hadn’t been building myself up too much. I didn’t know how to respond. If he only knew the sort of ‘gal’ he was with, he might feel differently. Just then we reached my apartment block, and we took leave of each other. I thanked him over again for his kindness in going so far out of his way, but he shrugged it off with his characteristic grin. “See you soon, Jennifer.”

I smiled shyly and nodded.

Harvey hesitated. Then he came out with what I’d been dreading, or hoping for, I wasn’t sure which. “Say, can we grab a coke some time, or a coffee, maybe...?”

“I’d like that.” The words came out before I knew it. “But I’m paying, okay?” I added hastily. That stopped it being a date, didn’t it? I think it did.

“Sure thing!” he grinned back at me, and then he was gone.

For some reason I felt like singing as I ran happily up the stairs to my room. Once inside I threw my purse down on a chair and danced round and around. Well it was so good to have made a friend. Why shouldn’t I feel happy?!

Diva Dismayed: Chapter 9 – And then not
Not long after my probationary weeks at the salon had passed, Mrs Millward called me into her office. I was a little nervous, wondering if I had done something wrong, though I couldn’t think of anything. I was glad when instead she said she’d had the strangest telephone call. “It was long-distance. Can you guess who it was from?”

I couldn’t imagine and said so.

“Your former employer, Mrs Bell.”

I gazed at her, dumb-struck, before blurting “What did she want?”

“Oh, she was quite friendly. She started by asking if I remembered her and we had a little chat recalling old times. Eventually she told me that the purpose of the call was to enquire if I’d been approached by a young girl called Jennifer who was wanting work. She said she needed to know because this girl had been employed in her salon and was owed some back pay, so she was trying to get in touch. A dark-haired girl, apparently.”

I coloured at my new employer’s significant glance, but managed a faint protest. “That was untrue. She doesn’t owe me anything.”

“Well, you will be pleased to know that I thought it smelled fishy, too. The story put me on my guard so I decided not to play along. I simply denied all knowledge of any such person.”

My eyes must have been round as saucers.

“Did I do the right thing?”

“Oh yes, absolutely.”

“I told her I would be sure to let her know if I came across the girl. She thanked me and that was how the matter was left. Can you think what she might have been after?”

I shook my head. Truthfully I couldn’t, though I knew it couldn’t be good. “Thank-you… for being so discreet. I would like to keep any contact with Madeleine to a minimum. That way would make my life less complicated.”

My employer frowned at my use of the first name. “Madeleine? I can see there is more to this than meets the eye, but…” she ended by smiling, “happy to oblige. You have made a good start here and I’m very content with your work. If there’s ever anything you need to discuss with me, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

I thanked her again.

When I mentioned the incident to Rachel that evening she became thoughtful. When she had considered my tale for some moments, she reminded me what had passed when I’d called my ex. “Didn’t Madeleine threaten that you hadn’t heard the last of her? She must be trying to find where you might be working. I can’t think what she has to gain… except perhaps to pay you back for leaving her. That isn’t to be taken lightly as she can make trouble for you. She might have told Mrs Millward who you were and the consequences of that could have been serious. As it is, you were fortunate your employer decided not to trust her.”

She considered some more. “First round to you, I think, but don’t expect that she will necessarily leave it there. She’s might try something else.”

Previously my mentor and friend had warned me that in these parts people were less tolerant regarding ‘cross-dressing’ than back home. There the subject had never been raised as an issue, at least to my knowledge, but not so here. Probably most people didn’t care, but apparently there had been police raids on certain bars and even arrests. An obsolete law prohibiting anyone “wearing the dress of the opposite sex” had been cited in those cases. To live in a place where such an attitude prevailed made my own position much more vulnerable. Such lack of tolerance served as a chilling reminder of how essential it was that Jennifer’s birth gender remained a matter of mystery.

After a pause she continued “I can’t think that your ex would drive all the way over here and try to find you in person. No doubt she knows my address, so I’ll watch out to be doubly sure. Don’t worry, I won’t give you away. Perhaps we could put it about back home that you’ve moved on to stay with your dad. That would be a bit hard for anyone to swallow but perhaps staying near him rather than with him might be believable. We’ll think of something, never fear, but be on your guard.”

“Perhaps I really should move on…” I hesitated.

“Oh no!” Rachel looked horrified at the suggestion. “Where would you go? You don’t want to leave, do you?”

“No, but it might be better for everyone. You might get into trouble yourself on my account.”

She shook her head. “No chance! Anyway I’d miss you. I like your being here with me.” She put her hand on my arm and blinked back a tear. “I didn’t realise how lonely I was before you came.”

Not for the first time, I wished I hadn’t met my ex-fiancé, or at least hadn’t become so entangled with her. The lavish nature of Madeleine’s lifestyle had been a lure which I had not been able to resist when I’d first met her at the tender age of fourteen. Since that just happened to be the age of consent in the state where we lived, there was nothing absolutely wrong in my receiving the ‘education’ that followed, although most folks would have disapproved. Even my mother, with an unhappy marriage behind her to colour her judgement, believed that it was essential I fully understand how a woman’s body worked. Her desire throughout was that my experience of womanhood should be as complete as possible!

Along with her expensive tastes and her exotic mode of dress, Madeleine certainly knew how to beguile my imagination. She also was happy to press my buttons sexually and it might be guessed that my response was typical for a red-blooded boy of my years. Even now, after all that had happened, I could get aroused just thinking about her willowy body that I’d got to know so well. It sometimes took a real effort to stop my thoughts dwelling on her.

It became clearer than ever to me that my newfound security in having a job, having somewhere to live and even being enrolled as a student was totally dependent on maintaining my feminine persona, though that happened to be the opposite of my avowed long-term goal. My life was getting more and more complex, but I didn’t seem to have any choices. More and more people were getting to know and accept me as Jennifer which was good but would make it harder than ever to change at some point in the future.

The following week I returned to see the doctor as arranged. I’d been mulling the choices he’d outlined at the previous appointment without coming to a firm decision. There were still too many questions unanswered. I was anxious about the interview and tried to remain hopeful that the physician would clarify the possible outcomes on this consultation. Then I could make a decision.

To bolster my sagging confidence on the day I selected another of my prettiest dresses to wear. It was a figure-hugging little frock in a pale yellow which I felt showed off my curves to advantage. Not that anyone would notice, of course. I mean, I’d be unlikely to encounter Harvey for example, even if my walk did take me past his place of work. As it happened I didn’t see him and felt not a trace of disappointment. Well perhaps a little. Okay, a whole lot! Where was that guy when a girl needed some affirmation?!

I duly arrived at the hospital only to be informed by Dr Beckwith’s receptionist that he had rearranged my appointment by referring me to a colleague who he believed had more experience in the specialised field we were dealing with, a Dr Nahar. I was somewhat put out at this alteration, but had little choice but to accept the change. The thought of having to start again with another doctor didn’t sit well with me. I was directed to a consultation suite at the other end of the building, and filled with misgivings I set off down a long corridor. To get there seemed to take for ever but eventually I reached the suite in question and entered the waiting room. I was thankful that it was empty and feeling uncomfortable and uneasy I took a seat.

After a delay of about twenty minutes I was about ready to give up and go, but then the consulting room door opened and I was shown into the inner sanctum by an Asian woman.

She proved to be the doctor herself. Several inches shorter than me, she made up for her lack of height by the generosity of her figure. Her curvy body was only partly concealed by the loose robes she was wearing and gave off a heavy perfume. The combination seemed to my disturbed brain to belong rather in some exotic movie than in a consulting room. As my senses took all this in I experienced that familiar tingling down below, much to my consternation.

She consulted a file of my medical details before turning to address me. “You are Jennifer, yes?” She spoke with only a hint of an accent and carried herself with a majestic air exuding supreme confidence. “You have been referred to me because Dr Beckwith feels that my expertise is more relevant to your immediate needs. He is correct. As regards your hormonal imbalance, he has already investigated the type of medication you need and we are agreed that in the medium term you should continue with what you have been taking.”

Her bald statement startled me. I had the impression that I had been given choices in this matter, but before I could raise an objection I was bidden “Remove your dress and brassiere please.”

Her manner left me no option but to comply. She proceeded to note down measurements similar to those her colleague had taken the week before. Then she turned her attention to what was for me a key issue. “You probably are uncertain of the effects your regime will have on your sexual potency, given the medication involved. This is likely to have a profound bearing on the choices you will be able to make about your future.” Then “undress and lie down, please.”

In the absence of any screen to give me privacy I obeyed reluctantly, hesitantly removing my waist cincher, hose and panties. Out of a sense of modesty I climbed onto the couch and made to lie on my front. An impatient motion of the doctor’s hand however, indicated that this position did not suit her and obediently I turned over. I was self-consciously aware that I was now lying completely exposed in front of a total stranger. What made it worse was that to me she seemed much less like a physician than I expected.

Even more embarrassingly, my private area had chosen this moment to respond to the proximity of her curvaceous female body, inasmuch as it was able to. So humiliating!
I needed to remember that she was a doctor and get a hold of myself, for heaven’s sake. Just when I felt that my shame could not be heightened any farther, the woman took my feeble erection in her fingers. She began to work on it and explained as she kneaded and stroked, “These beginnings of arousal form a good opportunity to explore. You have no objection? Good. We need to understand the extent and degree of firmness which you can achieve.”

While I inwardly wanted to die, she took some measurements and noted them down. She then made more vigorous attempts to stimulate me further. Her closeness and heavy scent added to the excitement of the experience and my little member’s reaction exceeded my expectations. Periodically glancing at my face Dr Nahar clearly knew exactly where I was at and she stopped in good time.

“Good” she declared again. “It is evident that you still have a normal male response, even if somewhat limited” she summarised.

“Whereas if we…” she resumed her massage with one hand while with her other proceeded to touch me in a different place. The effect was dramatic. My erection grew even harder and ten seconds later I knew that if I didn’t do something drastic, I would be unable to control myself. With an effort I pushed her hand away, and lay back breathing heavily.

She smiled. “Good! That is very good!” She sounded immensely satisfied with her findings. “With attention to this area…” she gestured towards the erogenous zone she had explored moments before “…I see no reason why you would be unable to achieve full penetration. So as things stand you are able to have a meaningful sexual relationship with a woman, as long as it is the right woman. Or equally, if you prefer it, with a man.”

What?! Why with a man?!

“In the country I come from, cases like yours are not uncommon. Let me see.” She perused the file of my notes for several minutes in silence.
“You are sixteen, yes?”

All I could do was to nod, too self-conscious to speak. Perhaps we were finally going to talk about my future.

As if she heard my thought, “Having come so far towards becoming fully female, it would be unproductive to take any retrograde steps before completion of your transformation is achieved in the next two years. After that period your development will naturally slow down as your bodily growth decelerates. Only then do I think it will be opportune for you to make informed choices. It may be then you decide that surgery will be appropriate, in which case you will have these removed and live as a man” indicating my swollen chest mounds. “Alternatively you could choose to remain as you are or as seems more likely… have a different kind of surgery.” She made a cutting motion with her hand across my groin.

Her meaning was all too clear. She meant, going all the way! I lay there trying to take all this in.

“Are we agreed?”

I was too confused to protest and in any case couldn’t disagree with her logic. Decisively she walked across to a cabinet and took out several clear phials of liquid. She unstoppered one and inserted a syringe. The next thing I was aware of was a sharp sting in my right buttock.

Oww!!

“There!” she exclaimed with a satisfied smile. “That was a small dose of an oestrogen booster to accelerate your hormonal development. It will push things along nicely for you. I recommend a repeat injection every fortnight until you are eighteen.” Handing me the remaining phials, “Any qualified nurse may administer this for you. And, you will keep to your present medication. Get dressed please!”

The interview was apparently over. I walked back to my apartment in a daze. My dream of regaining my maleness any time soon had been completely shattered. I was facing at least two whole more years as a girl! And then if I finally decided to make the attempt to return to manhood no doubt I would have much more bodily ‘development’ that needed to be dealt with. The prospect was alarming.

I thought about the other type of future she had so casually mentioned, and I shivered at the very idea. What if I chose to have a different type of surgery? Thinking about that outcome was scary but at the same time some aspects of it intrigued me. What might it be like, having…? I blushed at the thought. Overall I had to recognise that what I’d tacitly accepted was to go with the status quo. There were no choices to be made right now. I would have to accede to the doctor’s instructions, whether I liked it or not.

That night I slept badly. There were so many random thoughts going around in my head that it was hardly to be wondered at. Eventually I must have dosed off but only to experience unsettling dreams.

I had returned to the clinic for a further injection. Dr Nahar made me lie on that couch again. Her face now bore a more sinister mien and she resembled nothing less than some kind of enchantress from a Disney fairy tale. I felt myself freeze under her chilling gaze. Again she smiled that satisfied smile and held up a giant syringe to the light. I was petrified. The iridescent liquid inside it shimmered and glowed with an ethereal quality. Uttering a cry of triumph she plunged the needle into my butt. I could feel the flow of fluid into my protesting flesh which seemed to take an eternity but once complete, its effect on my slender body was dramatic and a tingling sensation engulfed the whole of me.

The scene had somehow changed to an ancient palace where I reclined on a golden throne. I was dressed like a harem girl from the Arabian Nights.

The tingling grew stronger. My boobs began to swell and then my hips, my thighs and belly engorged until their dimensions surpassed those of the doctor herself. Still they grew until I became unaware of anything else. Finally the tiny protrusion that lay hidden between my mountainous limbs shrivelled until it was no bigger than a hazel nut, whereupon it dropped off and fell with an audible clunk to the floor! I was conscious of an emptiness in its place. How was it ever to be filled? The void became all I was aware of until in the flickering light I perceived a tall figure striding toward me. It was muscular and erect. At last! I trembled in anticipation.

Then I awoke, shaking and bathed in perspiration. All that had happened had only been a dream! While I was relieved to find that my body had resumed its normal dimensions, my feelings were tinged with regret. Within me there was a longing to experience what would have happened next and I turned over to try and regain the dream. Of course, it was no good. The dream was gone. I lay awake for some time before I was able to sleep. Thankfully when I did so the remainder of my night was undisturbed.

Diva Dismayed: Chapter 10 – Stepping out
In attempting to safeguard my delicate position in this new locale, I found an unexpected ally a few days later in the shape of the warden, Mrs King. A staid old body as she appeared to be to me, she proved herself eager to become my co-conspirator! One Sunday some weeks after my arrival, I was returning from the drugstore and encountered her in the lobby. She was on her way out to attend church. In a flash of inspiration I asked her to wait for me while I picked up a head covering so that I might accompany her. I wasn’t sure what I expected to happen but it felt like the right thing to do. At any rate she looked extremely pleased. We had quite a heart-to-heart on our way back from the service. At one point, she professed herself curious as to why I’d moved away from home at such a young age.

“Oh well, it was the only thing left for me to do.” I summarised the complexity of my former situation in a few sentences. “My mother was trying to marry me to someone much older than me, so I had to get right away. I broke off the engagement at the last minute.”

Well, it was true!

My companion looked suitably shocked and said so.

“Even now” I went on, “I don’t feel I’m totally safe. I worry that someone might turn up trying to find me. That could be most unpleasant. But there’s not much I can do about it.”

“Oh, isn’t there just?” she exclaimed angrily. “I don’t approve of any such goings-on. If anyone comes asking me about you I’ll soon send them packing, let me tell you.”

She smiled mischievously. “I’ll simply deny all knowledge. Your staying here will be our little secret!”

“Oh, thank-you!” I cried. “I somehow knew I would be able to count on you.”

The good lady beamed at me. “Don’t mention it.” She put her finger to her lips, winked slyly and linked my arm through hers. The fun of having a little subterfuge in her life was evidently not unwelcome!

The following Saturday I returned from work to find that Rachel had already prepared supper for us both. Though merely a sandwich, it was more than welcome. I’d skipped lunch and was famished. Saturday was the day of the week that the salon was at its busiest and today had been no exception. After we had eaten, my friend had a surprise in store.

She began “You sound like you are done in.” While we were eating I had complained repeatedly about how tired I felt.

“I guess that after such an exhausting day you will be looking forward to a quiet evening, to give you chance to recuperate?” she continued innocently.
There was an archness in her manner which hinted that she was leading up to something.

I answered cagily “Oh, I don’t know” wondering what was coming next.

Immediately she pounced. “Good, because I feel like painting the town red! And… tonight there’s the monthly dance over at the civic centre. It’s run by the nurse’s foundation so you and I can get in at the reduced rate. I guess it will be more like painting the town a gentle shade of pink than actually red. I can’t guarantee that the band will be any good, but we can go together. How about it?”

Dancing was a form of activity I’d enjoyed at the various school events and local hops back home. I was confident I could hold my own on the dancefloor, although who might want to partner me might be more problematic.

Rachel’s thoughts were ahead of mine. “As you might guess there’s bound to be a catch and in this case with so many of my nursing colleagues around, spare men are likely to be in short supply. You could well be looking at your only dance partner for the entire evening. Can you face the prospect of standing up with such an old lady?”

I beamed my acceptance. “Oh, it sounds perfect” I enthused and I didn’t say that just as a means of reassuring her. It would be a delight to have my glamorous friend dance with me. Familiarity had done nothing to stop me finding her physically attractive.

“That’s settled then. Have you got anything to wear?”

I nodded. “I found a stylish new dress among the clothes which Mom sent over and which I haven’t even tried on yet. It ought to be just the thing.”

“Okay then. We’d better get started on getting ourselves ready. Off you go!”

As I ran down to my apartment to get changed, happy thoughts filled my mind. I was confident that the frock which I was planning to wear would suit me. I took it out and my estimate of the dress’s wow factor had not been over-optimistic. It featured a swishy full skirt in a coral coloured satin material and had a contrasting halter bodice trimmed with the same satin. When I slipped it over my head, the silky sensation against my skin felt as delicious as my imaginings had promised. Sadly, however, when I tried to do up the zipper it was immediately plain that there was no way I would be able to pull it up past the waist. I repeated my efforts but in vain.

How could that be? When the trunk with my clothes had arrived weeks before, I’d reverted to my nightly practice of wearing one of my corsets. To make this night-time corseting more palatable my ingenious parent had converted each garment to a system known as fan-lacing, although the degree of tautness achieved was a little less severe. With this arrangement, it took merely a matter of moments for me to wrap the corset around me, clip the front together and then pull the laces tight. Unfastening it was just as easy.

Having obeyed this discipline religiously I felt sure my new dress would fit just right. On this occasion my confidence was sadly misplaced. It seemed that my corseting had been inadequate. There was no way I could close the zipper.

Anxious not to rip the dress’s flimsy fabric by tugging at it my next action was to enlist some help. I ran out of the door to go in search of my friend.

I emerged from my room just in time to see Rachel descending the stairs. She was ahead of me in her preparations and checking on my progress. My own worries were immediately eclipsed by the vision that was standing on the stair before me. It was like encountering something fresh from Hollywood.

“Well… What do you think?” she asked shyly.

I didn’t reply but merely stood dumbfounded.

Now she was looking at me anxiously. “Won’t I ‘do’?” She turned right the way around and smiling winningly at me, awaited the verdict.

“No” I shook my head and her face fell.

“Do-ing’ doesn’t come into it” I laughed. “You look so devastatingly gorgeous that no one will have eyes for anyone else all evening.”

It was quite comical to see her expression of relief at my words but I meant every syllable of them.

“You are sure?” she still doubted.

“I couldn’t be more so!”

Rachel had chosen a strappy shift dress in the palest of blues finishing just above the knee. In an empire line style it showed off her slender waist and generous curves admirably. With her tall heels, also in a powder blue, the brevity of the skirt made her legs seem a mile long. I reflected that while my aim had been to attempt to pass as a typical fifties chick, my friend had managed to portray an air of womanly elegance and beauty which was timeless.

Once her fears had been allayed her next action was to critique my dress. The result was favourable. She actually put her hands together and applauded.

“Oh, Jennifer! You look a picture. You know sometimes I can’t believe you’re…”

Her compliment soon brought my own troubles to the fore once again. My face must have betrayed that all was not well with me. At my friend’s look of concern I turned around silently to reveal the undone zipper, the cause of my distress.

“Oh, we’ll soon fix that” she reassured me.

I wasn’t so easily convinced but back in my bedroom, Rachel took charge. After she had tried and failed to do up the zipper. “Take the dress off, and I’ll measure it against you, or better still against one of your other dresses that you know fits you.”

The result of this operation was that she proclaimed the new dress was in fact two inches smaller round the waist than the tightest of my other frocks, but that didn’t make me feel any better. Petulantly I felt that if I couldn’t get into my selected outfit then I didn’t want to go out. The weirdness of a teenage boy making that proclamation was all that stopped me saying so!

“Odd for your mom to make a mistake like that” my friend mused, while we considered what was to be done.

I felt obliged to defend my parent. “Well I guess it could be the same size as my wedding dress, so she could have based the sizing on that when she bought this one.”

“Okay. Well then, how did you come to get into the wedding dress?”

“Oh!” The penny had finally dropped. “I wore my bridal corset underneath. It laces really tightly. Much more so than my night-time ones.”

“Well you goose, we’d better try that then.”

I stepped over to my dresser and retrieved what I’d come to regard as an instrument of torture. I fastened it around me then as bidden, I sat with my back to Rachel. She had kicked off her shoes and was kneeling on my bed ready to render assistance.

She worked away at the laces with a will until the steel-boned garment compressed my middle into its smallest compass. It felt even tighter than the last time I’d had it on.

“I’m not sure I’ll be able to breathe in this, let alone dance” I complained.

Rachel ignored my protest as she tied the laces off. “Now let’s try your dress again.”

Ten minutes later I was engaged in putting the finishing touches to my makeup in ‘my’ bathroom, as I regarded it, fully attired in the said dress. I got a thrill of excitement just by looking in the mirror. The frock was adorable and that was pretty, pretty me! The icing on the cake was that I had a pair of heels which exactly matched the shade of my skirt. These were strange thoughts for a boy of my years to be harbouring but such strangeness had become my normality.
I gave myself another appraising glance in the mirror to make sure that everything was just so. The effect of the halter-style bodice with its keyhole neckline made me hesitate. The corset served in place of a bra and pushed everything upwards so I had much more cleavage on display than I would have wished. In mitigation I told myself that my wrap would make me decent and half believed it!

What I found most delightful was the shape of the skirt. Very full and with several layers of attached petticoats, its style was the height of the current fashion. Unlike my mother’s usual choices in dresses for me, it was also a ‘good’ length. For once my legs would be decently covered, at least before I started dancing! I gave a twirl and revelled in the way that the hem flew out and upwards. How much of my legs I showed would depend on how rapidly I chose to turn. I could be as flirtatious as I wanted and that was fine by me! I imagined mischievously swishing my skirt at a boy and seeing his reaction. Well, there had to be some compensations for the weirdness of my life!

By now I was really looking forward to the evening ahead of us. With Rachel as a companion how could I not be? She had run back upstairs to retrieve her purse and wrap so I collected mine, rang for the elevator and waited for her return. I heard footsteps on the stairway but they turned out to belong to someone else. To my surprise Della appeared, casually making her way down. It occurred to me that perhaps she had heard our excited chatter and was being inquisitive, but I tried to dismiss the ungenerous thought from my mind.

“Hi!” she greeted me. “Wow! Get you!”

I smiled and held out my arms to let her see my outfit in its entirety.

“Mmm, nice.” As if invited she stepped toward me and put her hands either side of my waist to hug me.

I pulled away instinctively then to mask the unfriendliness of my reaction I gave her a twirl, then back again. The response to that was more palatable. “Okay… those legs are hot, girl! Another!”

I obeyed and twirled even more vigorously.

“Nice, and I like your panties!” exclaimed the creature. She gave an unnaturally prolonged laugh.

Just then Rachel reappeared. Della looked appraisingly from me to my friend and back again. It was hard to see whether she was really smiling behind those glasses.

“Well flaunt it if you’ve got it… or if you think you have.” With that she ran back up to her room.

I didn’t know how to take her words. Was that supposed to be encouragement or censure? My face was a picture of puzzlement and Rachel shrugged her shoulders to indicate that we shared the feeling. Then the arrival of the elevator put the incident out of our minds.

“I thought we should travel down in style” I joked as I led the way in.

Noah must have been impressed by our glamorous attire. For once our descent to the lobby was unaccompanied by his usual grumbles.

As I stepped from the elevator I instinctively clutched my voluminous skirts close to my rear end. I wanted to be sure no wayward clothing would get entangled in the doors again, to my friend’s intense amusement.

“Once bitten…” laughed she.

Striving to ignore her ribbing, I kept turning my head over my shoulder to be doubly sure until my exit was complete.

“Enjy ye’selves, ladies” uttered the old man. “I wisht I was a-goin’ with ye’s.”

To my astonishment the aged attendant then started jitterbugging around before our eyes.

“I could show ye’s a thing or two” he leered, gyrating his ancient hips. “Boys these days don’t know nothin’!”

I shuddered at the grotesque sight.

“Thank-you Noah. You’re very kind” said Rachel, looking reprovingly at me as we hastily crossed the lobby to the door.

Once outside we dissolved into giggles and set off on our stroll to the dance hall. The evening was fine for walking and it seemed that we arrived in no time. Waiting in line to enter, I started to experience a few butterflies but each time a reassuring glance from my friend was enough to dispel any nerves and restore my confidence.

As I followed her into the hall I could see that the event was already in full swing. As soon as we were inside we were welcomed by some of her nursing colleagues who were sitting at a table near the door and who asked us to join them. They were a lively crowd and immediately pounced on me, wanting to know from Rachel who her ‘little’ friend was. I wasn’t too put out by little good-natured chaffing about my years, or my lack of them. I was only a little piqued by the teasing. I would show them! However it was nice to be accepted by such a friendly group. This was going to be fun!

Diva Dismayed: Chapter 11 – At the hop
Rachel had been correct in her guess about the lack of partners male. The mere sprinkling of masculine faces around the room bore out her surmise. As might be expected, women who were partnered with men were intent on keeping them on a tight rein in the presence of so much female competition. That left just one or two free spirits who were all that our immediate circle were left to contend for. Notwithstanding this deficiency the girls at our table appeared to be happy with their fate even if for the bulk of the evening they were limited to dancing with each other. They did so with evident enjoyment. The music was up-beat, exclusively fifties rock and roll and the dance floor was never empty.

After a time one of the young women in our party was asked to dance by one of the solo guys. After a couple of dances he walked her back to our table and then to my surprise he invited me to dance with him. I walked out with mixed feelings. I didn’t know the guy so I was a little nervous at dancing with a stranger. The girls exchanged glances and rolled their eyes meaningfully at me, but it was quite something to be the one asked out from among so many available partners. That aspect made me feel good. Now perhaps I would be no longer be regarded as the baby of the group! I have to confess that these sentiments were tinged with disappointment because… well I had been hoping that Harvey would be there. No particular reason. I just wanted to dance with someone I knew, that’s all!

My new partner proved to be an agreeable enough dancer and I soon picked up how to follow his leads. Becoming absorbed in the dance was something I always found really satisfying. I had to concentrate and there was little opportunity for conversation. That was just as well as the guy’s attempts were pretty limited. I smiled my best smiles to encourage him but he soon ran out of ideas. In any case my tight undergarment didn’t leave me much breath for chatting. The usual two numbers were over too quickly for me and I was left wanting more but like the other ‘females’ there, I had to be content when they came to a close.

I thanked my partner demurely before returning to my seat, to be greeted by more teasing from the other girls.

“Ooh! We’ll have to watch her!”

“She’s not as young and innocent as she looks.”

“I reckon it’s just an act she puts on, the little minx!”

I didn’t mind. I actually liked the attention I was getting and could reflect smugly that I was doing as well as any of them.

What surprised me most was that Rachel had remained unasked all this time. In my estimation, she was by far the most attractive woman in the room. Perhaps the perfection of her looks might have made her a little unapproachable, who can tell. She seemed happy enough pairing off with the other girls, and with me as often as any. Each time she and I got up to dance I had the intention of taking the male lead, only to find seconds later that it was she who unaccountably had slipped into that role. I found myself twirling and spinning for most of every dance. Her eyes contained a knowing twinkle while my skirts were flying everywhere whether I liked it or not. It was as if she wanted to show me off to the entire room!

I didn’t really care. Moving in sync with her beautiful body gave me quite a thrill, and the knowledge that I was regarded as her particular friend made me feel special. More surprisingly my friend appeared just as content to dance with me. Perhaps she was consoled by the thought that though nobody realised it, she actually had a male partner for most of the evening. Well more or less male! Who knows, I might be meeting one of her own needs, as much as I was able.

When not dancing ourselves we were well entertained watching some of the other couples, in particular, a young man and his partner from a neighbouring table. They had been among the most stylish on the dance floor all night. Every time they got up their flamboyant moves had drawn oohs and aahs from the onlookers. But later in the evening the girl looked less than happy as she hobbled back to her seat. “Probably a twisted ankle” was the consensus of opinion diagnosed by our immediate circle of medics.

The girl removed her shoe and massaged her sore foot but to no avail. Rather than expressing sympathy, her friend merely looked sulky, making little secret of his frustration when it became clear that any exercise was finished for his partner that evening. He glanced around the room and catching my eye, indicated with a jerk of his head that he was inviting me onto the floor.

I pointed at myself to verify he meant me. He gave a curt nod. Naturally I made no objection at all and got up to dance. Mom had always insisted I appear modest so I tried to look more surprised than I felt as I left the table. After all, I hadn’t done anything to be so singled out. Well, I might have smiled when our eyes had met earlier on. That was all. Unless you include the time when I’d returned to my seat not long before. The speed at which I’d turned around could have been termed a flounce, I guess and it may have caused my hemline to have lifted an inch or two. Okay, perhaps a little more than that, I don’t know. Well, even if it was a lot more, that didn’t actually count as flirting! Did it?

As I walked out I could see his girlfriend looking daggers out of the corner of my eye, but was undaunted. I fancied the prospect of an opportunity to impress my new friends, for one. The guy was really good, and dancing with such an accomplished partner proved to be ‘something else’, in the words of Eddie Cochran, my favourite rock n roller. The time flew by and before I knew it, after three dances I needed a break. They had been the most energetic I’d ever engaged in. Excusing myself breathlessly, I made my way to the powder room to freshen up. I was soon to find trouble meeting me there.

On emerging from the stall, I headed for the sink to wash up. I was joined there by the girl with the sore foot. Her face bore a pained expression as she hobbled towards me and I could tell she was unhappy, most probably with me
.
Indicating her injury, “It’s such a shame for you” I smiled, trying to retrieve the situation by conveying sympathy.

She ignored my remark with a look of disdain.

I persevered. “You and your boyfriend are wonderful dancers.”

If I hoped the compliment might win her over I was disappointed.

“Yes, and if you think you can muscle in just because I’ve hurt myself, you can think again” she almost spat at me.

“I’m sorry” I faltered. “We were only dancing.” My words fell on stony ground.

“Well, you had better remember that and keep it that way.” Her parting shot was fired over her shoulder as she left the restroom. On my own exit I beat a hasty retreat in the direction of my table. I didn’t need to be falling out with strangers. Somewhat chastened I seated myself, trying to hide that anything unpleasant had occurred. Part of me actually felt flattered that the woman regarded me as a rival. If she only knew! Thankfully, only my best friend was in possession of my little secret.

More tension was to follow. At the close of the evening, the MC stood up, resplendent in his evening dress. He announced “There will now take place tonight’s dance competition, with a prize for the best couple. Entrants step forward please!”

Straightaway I heard the words “That’s you and me babe” spoken behind me. I turned my head in surprise to discover that they’d been uttered by my late partner. His laconic invitation was almost the only words he had spoken to me. Before I could respond I was drug unceremoniously out to the middle. I summoned up the courage to glance across the room only to see disapproving faces on his table. His girlfriend regarding me with a look that would have curdled milk. I shrugged at her helplessly but that cut no more ice than I expected. Apparently it had been confirmed that I was regarded as an enemy.

Her boyfriend and I waited in the centre until another couple joined us, then another, and another. I still hadn’t been told his name. Standing there and being so exposed to scrutiny felt very uncomfortable, especially as I knew that some of it was hostile. It seemed an age but eventually the signal to start was given.
Altogether there were a dozen pairs of competitors, by that time.

When the music began we started and I could tell that my companion was really trying. The gyrations I was put through were breath-taking, quite literally. How I regretted wearing the constricting undergarment that I had on. My partner was seriously competitive and before we were through tried every lift and spin I’d ever seen, and some more. I was hard put to it to keep up with him. By the close I was speechless. As I stood there gasping I hoped that I’d acquitted myself as well as anyone could have expected, unrehearsed as our pairing had been.

When the result was announced it turned out we had been ranked in second place. To me that result was intensely satisfying, but my partner was not happy. He returned to his girlfriend with a scowl on his face. Failing to conceal her smiles as she comforted him, she was clearly not too displeased that we hadn’t won. Doubtless she would be able to blame his impromptu partner and assure him that, had she been able to compete instead of me, victory would have smiled on them instead.

When the evening finally ended Rachel and I said our goodbyes and set out on our walk home together. I was tired but very content. For me the evening had been a great success. My friend’s mood was harder to understand. We walked on arm in arm. After a silence between us, the reason became clear.

“Not a single partner!” she shook her head sorrowfully.

I didn’t know what to say.

“I really ought to have known that if you were around I wouldn’t get a look in with the men” she teased. “Upstaged again!”

We laughed but I knew that though intended as a joke, there was a serious element to the remark. I gave her hand a sympathetic squeeze.

She continued “I can see you have nothing to learn about the art of flirting. You little heart-breaker, you!”

“Me?”

“Yes, you! It’s just as well I haven’t got a boyfriend, right now. He wouldn’t be safe for a minute!”

We walked on some more.

“Do you think I scare them off?” she worried.

I could see that this idea was really bothering my friend but was unsure how best to reassure her.

“Not scare them off, exactly” I hazarded. “You know, you look so perfectly stunning that only a really confident guy would feel up to asking you to dance.”

“What? Go on! You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

It was a complete reversal of roles to find that it was my turn to be the one doing the comforting.

“No, I think that is actually quite true. Honestly.” I was serious. “Does it make you feel any better?”

“Perhaps. Not much!” she laughed ruefully. “Well, I won’t lower my standards, even if that should be the case. The trouble with confident guys is that, usually, they’re such jerks.”

We laughed. She hugged me tightly to her then leaned back to look into my eyes. “Thank goodness I’ve got you!”

I’d never felt so close to Rachel. It was a special moment and we walked on a couple of blocks before our talk resumed. There was plenty to discuss about our evening. When we got to the apartment block it was very late so instead of calling the elevator we climbed the stairs.

“Don’t you miss home at all?” she asked when we had reached my floor. I opened my door and invited her inside.

“I do and I don’t” was my qualified answer. “What’s really odd is that recently, besides my mom, the person I’ve been thinking about most is Tom, my little brother. My feelings about Mom are a bit mixed, as you would expect. But Tom! Can you believe it?”

“I can, actually. It would be great to see Chris right now.”

“Well, yes, why wouldn’t you. He’s so…” I stopped myself from adding “gorgeous” just in time. Fortunately my companion seemed too preoccupied to notice, so the teasing about my past feelings for her own younger brother which would otherwise have come my way didn’t materialise. Well why should it? He was just another boy after all!

We continued to reminisce about our home town. It was obvious that my friend was feeling homesick, so I indulged her as much as I was able.

Eventually, “Here let’s get you out of that corset” she offered. The next few minutes were spent undressing me. The degree of intimacy between us seemed natural but when I was down to just my panties I grabbed my robe and loosely wrapped it around me. Next thing was that I found myself enveloped in a prolonged hug. I wasn’t sure whether my friend was crying on my shoulder.

I held her for a while then, trying to lift her mood, I gently suggested “You need something to take your mind off these things. Like… a man. It’s time you had a boyfriend.”

To my surprise, my friend didn’t raise her usual objections. She was in open agreement. “You know, you’re absolutely right.”

She was gazing at me with a wistful look across her pretty features that I found a little disconcerting. I didn’t know what to say or do.

She continued, “It’s that time. You know.”

I understood her meaning at once, recalling an occasion a year ago when the friendship between Rachel and myself had nearly become something more intense. That it hadn’t done so was only thanks to an untimely interruption by my mother. She had told me that there were one or two days each month when one thing preoccupied all her waking thoughts. Today must be one of those days. I broke the awkward pause that ensued. “You know I’d do anything to help.”

My friend regarded me wonderingly. Though I was unsure where we were heading I nodded in confirmation.

Rachel hesitated and then with decision “Turn around for a second.”

Moments later “You can turn back now.”

The light was low but the sight that met my eyes was one that imprinted itself on my brain. Rachel sat reclined on my bed. She was wearing only bra and panties and her eyes seemed to glow hauntingly.

She motioned me to come and sit beside her. “We can’t go all the way of course, but…” she hesitated “do you remember those ‘lessons’ Madeleine used to give you?”

“Vividly!”

“Turn out the light, please. Now let’s see what you learnt!”

Though indeed we didn’t go all the way, the skills I’d been ‘taught’ hadn’t deserted me and before long my bedfellow tensed and uttered that stifled cry. Again it happened. Eventually sleep overtook us.

Diva Dismayed 12: Chapter 12 – A walk in the park
The next morning I woke to find that Rachel was up before me. When I surfaced I saw that she was engaged in looking through my closet.

She noticed my wakefulness straightaway. “Sorry if I disturbed you. Sleep well?”

I nodded drowsily. There seemed to be a golden haze about her and I heaved a sigh of deep content as I gazed. My friend however was in a more practical mood.

“I hope you don’t mind but I need to borrow one of your dresses so I can get back to my room.” She indicated the dress she’d worn to the dance which lay folded over a chair. “If I were to be seen by Miss Nosey-Parker in evening clothes the cat would really be out of the bag!”

She took out a day-dress in a blue stretchy fabric “There. That ought to fit at a pinch. Can you lend me that one?”

“Of course. No need to ask.”

She pulled it over her head and slipped her arms through the sleeves.

Once she had emerged from its folds, she stood for a moment in front of the glass and smoothed the garment down. Then, with a nod of satisfaction, she rummaged for her key in her purse and departed, leaving me to my reverie. It was a pleasant one. After indulging myself sleepily for some minutes however, I stirred myself to action. I got up and dressed myself quickly. Once I was presentable I ran upstairs to see how my erstwhile bedfellow was faring. Mindful of the need for discretion I carried with me her evening clothes wrapped up in a parcel to hide their nature. As it happened there was no need. I didn’t encounter anyone on the stairway.

I let myself into her apartment and found my friend still clad in the borrowed dress. It felt good that I’d been able to do something for her. She was already busy preparing breakfast and looked relaxed and happy and a smile lit up her face when she saw me. I helped her setting out the food then we sat together at the table. After we’d eaten, I cleared away and washed the dishes while Rachel changed the dress for her uniform. Then we spent the morning together. Though we seemed particularly close, instinctively I avoided any reference to what had occurred in the night and my friend appeared to have put it out of her mind too. Perhaps I might have regarded what happened as all a dream except for a glint in her eyes when they met mine. No, it had been real enough.

This particular Sunday had dawned as a glorious summer morning, with skies of the brightest blue and a delicious breeze. I was keen to get out and enjoy the day. I’d learned that only twenty minutes’ walk away lay the local park. I had been planning for my friend and I to take our lunch and spend a pleasant few hours there, but when I’d suggested it to her I’d found that her afternoon was already otherwise arranged. She had been roped in to do an additional shift at the hospital. It was a welcome opportunity to earn some extra money.”

After lunch I took my leave to go and get changed. She put her arms around my waist and embraced me, giving rise to the usual bodily reaction in me. Memories of the previous evening heightened the sensation. How much Rachel was aware of my emotions, I couldn’t tell.

“I will try not to mind too much when I think of you enjoying this wonderful weather” she exclaimed, laughing off the disappointment. “Now, as you are going on your own, you must promise me to take good care, or I will worry about you. Be especially sure to avoid any lonely places where there aren’t many people.”

I readily gave her the required assurance. I’d already been put on my guard against solitary walks through unknown neighbourhoods. In this case I reckoned that the park ought to be full of leisure seekers on a Sunday and therefore was likely to be safe enough. The next question that occupied my thoughts was inevitably… what ought I to wear?

Since arrival of my clothes I had a fair selection of my own dresses, tops and skirts to choose from. The drawback was that the focus of the wardrobe which my mom had picked out for me majored on eye-catching little numbers, and I mean little! This would have been okay if my life had consisted of a succession of parties and glamorous evenings but that was far from the case. Conspicuously lacking were the everyday types of attire which would have served my more practical needs, like earning a living and blending in. It figured! From the earliest days of my transformation, Mom’s dress choices for me had always featured skimpy pieces of clothing guaranteed to cause me the maximum of discomfort and which seemed to provide my devious parent with the maximum of delight!

On this particular afternoon, the weather dictated that a sundress would be most appropriate and I had just such a one. The frock I had in mind, with its strappy top and figure hugging style, would certainly command attention. It was in a floral patterned blue brocade, and its saving grace was that I had a little cardigan in a coordinating colour which would help preserve my modesty. True, the length of the skirt was shorter than my ideal, but this choice was likely to be my best one. Once I’d completed my change, I checked my make-up in the mirror, and then with my heart beating high, I set off. It would have been so much more enjoyable if Rachel had been with me, but I was keen to take advantage of such an idyllic day.

A few minutes later I found myself strolling through a leafy suburb. The intermittent shelter from the trees which lined the sidewalk was very welcome. The road wound gently uphill and after some time I began to get warm with the exercise. I removed my cardigan and sought as much shade as the trees provided. Not too many people were out in the heat of the afternoon so my walk was solitary until I reached the pleasure ground itself. Just then I noticed a young woman going in the same direction as myself. Her figure was somehow familiar. When she turned to cross the street in front of me I recognised Della, our co-resident. As I came up with her she saw me and waved.

Her company would be a poor substitute for that of my best friend. I have to admit that my heart sank but I tried not to show any reluctance as I returned her greeting.

“Taking an afternoon walk?” she called, waiting for me to approach. “Very health-giving. Shall we explore together?”

I smiled, trying to show more enthusiasm than I felt at the invitation. For one thing we must have made an incongruous pair as we fell into step. Here was I apparently all dressed up in my Sunday best complete with hose and heels, while my companion was as casual as you please and bare-legged, in sandals, a crop top and a faded cotton skirt.

“You are very smart today, I must say.”

“Overdressed you mean” I laughed trying to enter into a spirit of friendly conversation. “I don’t have too many clothes to choose from. You must be much more comfortable in all this heat.”

“Well I think you look just perfect. That dress really accentuates those curves of yours.”

She stopped and ran her hand over my hip. “Mmm That material’s so slippery! That must feel very sensual to wear.”

Judging it best not to appear unfriendly, I quelled my instinctive reaction to recoil from her touch. Della gave that disconcerting smile of hers then she took my hand and held it against her skirt.

“Plain ole cotton for plain ole me” she remarked. “Never mind. Only one of us needs to be beautiful.” Then still holding my hand she turned so we fell into step side by side.

It was difficult to know what to say. My companion broke an awkward pause. “We should do this more often, don’t you think, just you and me? We need to get to know one another.”

I still didn’t know how to respond. The woman was being extraordinarily nice to me but that didn’t engender trust to any great extent. On reaching the park she led me though the entrance. We were immediately among a crowd of pleasure-seekers and I started to feel better. As we walked we passed couples seated on the grass and families playing ballgames or picnicking. It made a relaxed and colourful holiday scene.

Venturing further on we reached a more wooded area where leafy boughs promised a respite from the strong sunshine. There were less people here.

“Let’s find somewhere cool and quiet to sit” Della suggested and led the way. Walking on the soft grass in heels was tricky so I halted to take them off. My companion kicked hers off too and we walked on. She stopped in where a low-growing thicket would screen us from view from the pathway. Here the trees were spaced thinly enough to allow the grass to grow green but still provided a welcome shade.

I stooped to lay my cardigan, shoes and purse on the sward and when I straightened up again, the next thing I knew was that I was in Della’s arms. She squeezed me tightly against her and reaching her head up, closed her mouth over mine in a passionate kiss.

I was completely shocked and simply froze. It seemed like the kiss went on for ever. Though there was no way I’d wanted it I didn’t find it at all unpleasant, so I didn’t resist. In the past I’d been kissed by some good kissers, so I knew a bit about the subject. But… Della wasn’t in that category. No, she wasn’t a good kisser. Instead she proved to be a great kisser! I was so far from resisting her that I may have kissed her back a little. Okay, perhaps more than that. I opened my mouth and when I did so her tongue darted inside as quick as a snake. I’d never been kissed as thoroughly as I was now. My knees went weak and there was a tingling sensation in my nether regions which became so powerful that I was hardly aware of what was happening.

Vaguely I realised that my admirer had slipped her right hand down to cup my butt and was pressing me against her thigh. It was time I did something. I tried pushing her away only to find that she was a lot stronger than she looked. Finally I managed to pull my head away and we broke apart.

“Mmm. Dreamy!” she exclaimed and flopped herself down carelessly under a broad-leaved tree, grinning widely.

She motioned me to do likewise. I wasn’t sure about this so only hesitantly obeyed. For one thing I wasn’t ideally dressed for sitting on the damp ground. It would have been discourteous to refuse, so more cautiously I seated myself beside her. Her skirt had ridden up, treating me to a grandstand view of her panties. I tried to appear not to notice but it was hard not to look. My eyes seemed to be magnetically attracted to the top of her legs.

This was unfortunate. I wanted to discourage any further intimacy between us, but found that my wayward glance had given rise to an immediate misinterpretation of my feelings.

“Well I can see it’s not only me that’s interested” laughed the girl, drawing attention to my confusion.

Interested? No way!

Diva Dismayed: Chapter 13 – On the road again
Della’s ability to leave me speechless had proved second to none, once again! All I could utter by way of a response was a nervous laugh. I desperately needed to change the way this encounter looked like developing and fast. Searching around for a safe topic of conversation, I hit upon the previous night I’d spent going out. Accordingly I asked her if she ever attended the monthly dances and mentioned how much I’d enjoyed the one which Rachel and I had been to the evening before.

The girl seemed piqued. “Really? You mean you like that sort of thing?” she bridled. “I can’t see the point myself.”

“Well, it’s a great way of getting to know people. I made some nice new friends among the nurses.”

Della looked scornful at my assertion, but that was okay. I’d succeeded in diverting the direction of our talk into a safer path, so I carried on. “And… although there weren’t too many of the opposite sex there last night, it does provide an opportunity to meet… you know… boys!”

I rolled my eyes delightedly as I said this. Well I had to pretend more than I felt to make my enthusiasm believable, didn’t I?

“Why would I want to do that?” she snapped. “The last thing I want is a man in my life, thank you very much.”
Her resentment at my suggestion was palpable. “You are aware that they always make such demands on you and expect you to run around after them all the time.”

“Well, what if he were, you know… well not just any guy?” I teased. “He’d have to be good-looking, of course…” Why did the image of Harvey’s face flash through my mind just then? “…and devoted to me… I mean, to you.”

Phew! That nearly went wrong!

I continued more reflectively “Strong but gentle, with a kind heart…” I was getting carried away with the idea.

“Stop!”

Della shuddered and her face pulled a disgusted expression. “Ugh!” she winced. “The idea!”

I simply shrugged and smiled to myself. It figured.

She took advantage of the pause that ensued by reverting back to her earlier theme. She forced that smile of hers. “Now isn’t it much nicer the two of us being together like this. Just you and me. You must know that you’ve made quite an impression on me. I think your looks are really striking. I thought that the first time I saw you. Wasn’t the way we met a scream?”

She didn’t wait for me to agree but carried on insistently “I’ve thought about the circumstances of our meeting a lot since then. You know, any way you look at it, we became intimate straightaway. That must have been fated.”

I hadn’t felt any such bond myself. Personally I had put the way we met down merely to an overfull bladder, though I didn’t voice that opinion. My decided view was that the woman was too strange for me to want the sort of closeness with her that she was claiming to feel.

As I pondered this, Della’s manner became sly. She insinuated “Say, that shade of lipstick looks really delicious on you... I wonder if it looks good on me, too… let’s experiment a little more, shall we?”

I thought her remark was an odd one, especially since normally she wore only a little lip-gloss. I shrugged in response and reached for my purse to retrieve the tube in question, before the penny dropped.

The girl laughed knowingly. She leaned forward and put her hand on my knee. “You know that wasn’t what I meant” she insisted. “Now don’t you?”

She began to caress my thigh with gentle fingers. “You know, you’re really cute. I love that air of innocence you put on. You act the out-of-town little virgin really well!”

Her gesture could only be taken as meaning a lot more than friendliness. I was disconcerted by the directness of her advance which anyway was one I wished to discourage. I averted my head but something like an electric shock coursed through me. Despite my reluctance to get involved I seemed to be tingling all over. While I was wondering how to respond, Della’s caresses became firmer and more definite. My lack of resistance was being interpreted as acceptance of what could only be a sexual overture. Panic rose inside me. I had to do something!

Normally, such a direct come-on would be a welcome adventure for a sixteen year old male, even from someone as little attractive as I found the girl. But there was nothing normal in my situation and I had the gravest doubts of the direction in which the relationship might ‘develop’. It was impossible to predict how she would react to… well, what she would be bound to discover!

My desire to preserve the secret of my gender was always to the fore in my mind, so as things stood, one small mercy was that Della clearly took me for another female. That was crucial from a person whose discretion I regarded as not to be relied on. There was only one course of action left for me to take. I closed my legs firmly together and edged away.

“Sorry if I gave you the wrong impression, but I’m not what you think I am.” As I uttered the words the realisation struck me that the truth of this statement was far in excess of what I’d intended!

“Well maybe, maybe not. Perhaps you might be, but you just don’t know it yet. It could be fun to find out” she hinted. Her words were intended to be inviting and there was a powerful inducement, how unbelievably good a kisser Della had shown herself to be! I shook my head firmly, resolutely ignoring the temptation.

“I know there’s something different about you” she persisted. “You’re not what you pretend to be, I can tell. Let’s try a little action.” I got the alluring up-from-under glance.

I shook my head but Della had staying power. “You won’t get many chances like this one. If you think that that ‘Miss Perfect’ friend of yours will ever help you out, you’re in for a big disappointment.”

That crystalized my resolve. I didn’t like the way she’d referred to Rachel or what she was implying about her.

“You must have needs like anyone else. I can tell there isn’t a boyfriend, back home?” Della’s continued fishing was starting to become really annoying. However, here was a way to deter this amorous acquaintance. “Though I haven’t a boyfriend right now, I have had in the past. More than one.”

Although my words were met with a look of flat disbelief, I knew there was sufficient truth behind them for my assertion ultimately to carry credence. As reinforcement I added the qualification “Though not at the same time, of course. I hope you don’t think I’m that sort of girl!”

I spoke in tones of feigned indignation. It was hard to keep the humour out of my voice. I could have laughed out loud at the little comedy of errors that was being enacted here.

Though it was something of which I wasn’t altogether proud, there had already been several periods in my young life when I’d dated boys. Some of these dates were not altogether voluntary but, I have to admit, others had been. One regular relationship had lasted months, before he and I finally agreed to end it by mutual consent. That there was a degree of ‘physicality’ involved in all of them was also something I couldn’t deny. Even so I still didn’t regard myself as ‘gay’, which was the term which was then beginning to be used to describe that orientation. I was sure in my head that I was into girls, though not this one. It was complicated, that was all!

In the meantime my ploy had been successful. Della was now on the back foot and even apologised to me “Sorry, I wasn’t implying… Sorry. You misunderstood me, that’s all.”

“That’s okay” I replied magnanimously. “It’s probably time we were heading back” I added, creating an opportunity to escape my unwanted companion. “I’ve an early start for work tomorrow.”

Della got up and brushed down her skirt. “You needn’t mention any of this to… Not that I’m bothered, but things can get distorted. It could be awkward.”

For whom, I wondered?

“Don’t worry. No-one will learn anything from me.” I assured her. There was only one person I was likely to mention the incident to and Rachel had formed an accurate enough idea of our neighbour’s disposition already!

The walk home was uneventful if interminable. We admired the architecture of some of the houses and exchanged a few pleasantries. Though we parted outwardly as friends, an ever-present undercurrent of distrust remained. My instinct to be watchful when the girl was around had been reinforced. I decided to make very sure I need not depend on her in the future, if I could help it.

One evening a few days later, after I’d been away from home about a month, Rachel joined me for supper and her face bore a troubled expression.

“It’s my mom” she answered my unspoken question. “She’s unwell. There’s been some kind of heart episode. I’ve asked for leave to go to her this weekend. I really must see how she is for myself. With all the travelling each way it will only be a flying visit but… if you could come with me I’d feel so much happier. You would be more than welcome, if you can get the time off work, that is.”

My feelings over her words were mixed. Though I was anxious to help, I would have to stay with Mom. What sort of reception would I face on such a visit? I could only guess how my unpredictable parent would be with me? What else might I have to deal with? My face must have betrayed my doubts.

“If you had rather not, I will quite understand” my sensitive friend continued. “You’re probably unsure about how things are at home. Of course you can always use our spare room, if it’s too complicated to go to your mom’s, but I’m pretty sure she would be pleased to see you. Have a think about it.”

“I’ll come” I decided, and felt instantly that I’d made the right choice. “If I can take the days off, that is. Once I know, I’ll phone Mom and see how the land lies.”

Once I’d called Mrs Millward and explained why I wanted leave of absence, it was settled that I would go with Rachel. The next hurdle to surmount was tackling my mother. I made the phone call in the evening when I knew she would be relaxing after supper, hoping that she would be in a favourable mood around then.

It was my little brother who answered the phone. The way I greeted him sounded completely strange in my ears. “Hi Tom, it’s Jen… er… Rob.” Who was Rob?!
My sibling sounded just as uncomfortable as I felt. When he passed the handset over to my parent, my own confusion was echoed by him in a manner that was almost comical. “Mom! It’s Rob… er… Jennifer.”

My parent was quite self-collected however and sounded friendlier than I’d dare to expect. “Jennifer, sweetie, it’s nice to hear from you. It seems ages since we talked.”

Actually I had been phoning home regularly and as recently as in the previous week, but that occurrence had clearly not registered with her. After the opening pleasantries had been exchanged, I tentatively broached the reason for the call. “I was wondering, Mom, if it would be convenient… if I came home for the weekend.”

There was an awkward silence while she digested my request so I took the opportunity to explain the purpose of Rachel’s visit and her concern for her mother’s health.

“Well, I’m really glad she’s decided to do that. She’s such a thoughtful daughter! She never thinks of herself. I’m really quite worried about Wilma.” Mom went on to voice her anxieties on the matter. After some minutes in this vein she turned her thoughts to practicalities. “Well your old room is standing empty. The bed is already made up and everything’s just as it should be. If you get here in the afternoon, you can collect Tom from his after-school friend’s house, as I’m likely to be working. What time can I expect you?”

I was mightily relieved by the way Mom had received the call. I hadn’t been made to endure reproaches for my absence and I deduced that my visit was generally welcome. I ran up to Rachel’s room with a light heart to give her the news. It was flattering to see her relief when I said I would be able to accompany her. It felt good to be needed.

When Friday came I dressed myself with particular care, giving especial intention to my make-up, nails and hair. I knew the condition of these were likely to receive minute scrutiny from my ever-critical parent, as would my body-shape. She would probably be expecting that I had ‘let myself go’ as she termed it, without her presence to administer constant control and correction.

Rather smugly, I felt confident that she would find the opposite and felt incongruously proud of my silhouette. I planned to wear a figure-hugging dress on which I’d spent some of my hard-earned cash the week before. With the hemline just above the knee it boasted a skirt with vertical stripes below a contrasting top in a chequered material. All this geometry served to draw attention to my curves and in particular my ever-swelling bust. I’d asked Rachel to administer my second booster injection of hormones a few days before and it may have been my imagination but the effects were already discernible.

Having packed my clothing I prepared food for the journey; a thermos and sandwiches to eat along the way. When the elevator door opened to take me and my luggage down to the lobby I was amused to be on the receiving end of Noah’s approval. “My, my! Is you worth looking at, girl?” The old guy was actually ogling me.

I gave him an arch glance in response.

“There ought to be a law” he admonished with a wicked leer, as I exited.

I left him grinning lecherously and lugged my belongings out to Rachel’s car, in eager anticipation of our adventure. I waited for her to join me but instead I was greeted by Della who happened to be returning to the building at that moment. Her recent discomfiture in the park had apparently been forgotten, and for the next five minutes I had to fend off her usual nosiness.

Fortunately there was nothing about our forthcoming road trip that I had reason to conceal, but my wariness about giving out information to someone so inquisitive persisted all the same. My principle was that the less she knew about me the safer I would be. Rachel’s arrival put an end to her interrogation and we were left to load our baggage in peace. There was a surprising quantity to pack, considering that the trip was only a weekender but, hey, there’s no end to what girls might need on such occasions!

The journey itself proved to be interminably lengthy, requiring several stops, but largely uneventful. The route itself was straightforward to follow and eventually the increasing familiarity of the landmarks we were passing told us we were near to our destination. First, Rachel drove me directly to Mom’s house and after unloading me and my belongings, we took leave.

“I wish you were coming home with me, Jennifer, dear. I’m so worried about mother. I don’t know just what to expect and could really do with you there!”

I found it strangely heart-warming how necessary I seemed to have become to this self-possessed, glamorous creature. I gave her my warmest hug to reassure her and she clung to me like a little child. Then she was gone. I put my key in the lock of the front door and braced myself to face my own ordeal!

It turned out not to be an ordeal at all. I was met by my mother descending the stairs and while I may have been unsure how to look, her greeting was as friendly as anyone could have wished.

I’d taken the trouble, or in reality been prompted by my caring friend to do so, of buying a peace-offering just in case. There were flowers for my parent and a box of cookies for Tom. As might be expected, Tom gave a whoop of delight and had his gift open in seconds and was munching happily. I’d had doubts about the efficacy of the bouquet, but was amazed to see its effect on Mom who was evidently deeply touched. Her eyes filled up and before I knew it I was enveloped in a lingering embrace. “Oh, Jennifer! It’s so good to have you home again!”

I felt myself getting emotional too at this display of affection. Once I was released Mom stood back and gave me the expected critical scrutiny from head to toe. Apparently the result was favourable.

“Well, Jennifer, I have to admit I fully expected that your standards might have slipped a little while you have been away, but it seems that you were listening to everything I’ve been teaching you, after all. You are downright pretty… and your figure! That’s some improvement, let me tell you.”

Her examination of the curviness of my feminised body was so embarrassingly personal that I found myself protesting, “Mom!”

There was no disguising her satisfaction at my ‘development’.

“Now, make us a coffee there’s a dear, and then I want to hear about everything.”

Much as I was reluctant to give out any precise information about where I was living and my place of work, there was no hiding anything from my mother’s questioning. It wasn’t long before she knew all there was to know about everything; the nurses’ apartments, the salon, the course I’d be studying, Mrs King, Mrs Millward, the doctors, church, and, what she was most desirous of being informed of, my friends.

Try as I might, as usual I couldn’t resist this cross-examination. I tried to establish one condition before spilling it all and to this she offhandedly agreed. I asked her not to repeat any of what I divulged to Madeleine. I tried to impress on her the seriousness of my request but had to be content with the sketchy undertaking I received in response.

“Yes, yes. Of course I won’t mention it.”

I wished I could have placed more confidence in this assurance, but she was too intent on getting details of my relationships to give me any more satisfactory promise. By the time she had drug Harvey’s name out of me it had probably been forgotten.

“Well, who is this Harvey?”

It wasn’t long before she knew everything there was to know about myself and the unfortunate youth, with one exception. The meeting on the stairs remained my secret, at least for now! In any case how I was, or wasn’t, dressed seemed so far from the realms of possibility that even my mother wouldn’t imagine the likelihood of it occurring. The realisation of this made me re-evaluate that particular indiscretion. I’d assumed that a similar mishap could happen to any girl! Evidently not! Oh, and I didn’t refer to the incident on the bus either, the one concerning my ‘unmentionables’. Best they stayed that way!

By the time Mom’s interrogation was over I had a clearer understanding of my feelings about Harvey than before. They were now been etched in black and white upon my brain. The invitation to a drink together became established so firmly as an intended date in my parent’s judgement that I was unable to regard it in any other light. Well, what if it was a date? I would still go out with him. I’d had dates with guys before, after all. It didn’t have to mean anything. At least I thought it didn’t!

While my parent gave me the third degree in this fashion I couldn’t help observe that she herself was changed. There appeared to be a diminishing as if there was less of her than I recalled. I wondered if she had lost some weight or whether I had grown. Immediately I worried whether she was eating properly, without myself there to prepare our food. I felt a twinge of guilt that I had no longer been around to look after her. There were other changes too. The dress she was wearing was in a pretty flowered material, but its style was more revealing than I would have expected her to adopt. The hemline was a few inches higher than she was accustomed to wear, while at the same time the neckline was lower, low enough to show a hint of cleavage. Such a young and feminine look would have been unthinkable formerly.

My concerns for her well-being wouldn’t go away but soon there were other feelings which overrode them. When I told her about the medical consultations I’d had and the life choices which had been outlined for me, I half-expected her to experience some remorse for the way I’d been tricked into my regimen, but far from it. Not only did she express her approval of the programme of continued medication which had been prescribed for me, but she was clearly delighted when I told her about the booster injections. Her attitude was one of self-congratulation. It was as if it had now been confirmed that she knew best all along. When I gave a reproachful look over her deception she seemed oblivious.

Inevitably the subject of my ex came up. I took the opportunity to let her know that Madeleine clearly bore me some ill-will and even wanted to harm me. Mum’s response was not calculated to afford me any consolation. “Tomorrow, we’ll go and see her and sort things out. I think you owe her an apology. That will be much more effective than merely hoping that any ill-feeling will just go away by itself.”

That visit was the last thing I felt like undertaking but reluctantly I had to agree.

Help!

Diva Dismayed: Chapter 14 – When is a date…
Sure enough, the following morning, after a somewhat restless night for me, we set off for my ex-fiancé’s house. On the well-tried principle that knowing I was well-dressed would bolster my confidence, I took longer than usual to get ready. It also served to delay the evil hour of an encounter which I didn’t relish in the least. I’d brought with me the dress I’d worn to my last medical appointment. It was my current favourite so I felt it was a good choice for today’s visit.

“Will she be expecting us?” I asked anxiously. I really didn’t fancy the interview ahead of me at all.

My parent was seemingly unfazed by the prospect ahead of us and could make light of it. “No! And you should be glad about that. It will mean you have the element of surprise!”

The maid who answered the door was a stranger to me. Evidently she was Maria’s replacement. There was a lengthy wait and I began to wonder if we would not be admitted. I’d screwed my courage up for the ordeal and started to entertain feelings of disappointment which alternated with those of relief. After the delay we were shown into my ex’s stylish drawing room. I looked around at my well-remembered surroundings. The thought that I might have been able to call this sumptuous house mine, in name at least, didn’t afford me any regrets. It would have come at too high a price.

Madeleine rose and greeted us rather stiffly, but I was prepared for that.

“We have called to apologise” began my parent. “Jennifer has something she would like to say to you.”

I took the lead directly. “Madeleine, I want you to know that I feel very bad about running away like I did. The way I broke off our engagement was inconsiderate. I’m ashamed that I could be so unfeeling when you have always been so kind to me. I hope that one day you can be generous enough to forgive me.”
I’d rehearsed this little speech in my head beforehand, but I meant every word nonetheless. I waited miserably for my intended spouse’s response.

The attitude Madeleine chose to adopt had less honesty and openness than I was hoping for. Perhaps I had been expecting too much but her reply didn’t augur well for the outcome of our visit. “My dear, you mustn’t reproach yourself. Feeling the repugnance you clearly do for me and, blossoming into loveliness as you are, why would you be bothered with a worn-out old creature like myself?”

Unfortunately, today her words tallied with her appearance all too well. Without advance warning of our visit the woman was ill=prepared for once. She actually looked dowdy although observing that didn’t help me in finding a suitable reply. It would have been impolite to agree with her and also counter-productive if there was to be any sort of reconciliation between us.

The reality was that before today I had viewed Madeleine as a style icon and now was startled by the change in her. She was wearing a black silk camisole under a striped pant suit, but the latter seemed shapeless and the former did nothing to support her bust which in the absence of a bra sagged unflatteringly downwards. She was adorned with a quantity of jewellery which was too flashy to be tasteful at that time of day. Her hair was styled as it always had been but, though I used to be fascinated by the way it cascaded luxuriantly over her shoulder, the style was too young for her. I began to wonder what I had ever found remarkable or attractive in her.

I stood there, uncomfortable and wondering what to say, when fortunately my mother intervened. She was not to be outdone in courtesy, sincere or otherwise. “Madeleine dear, don’t speak in such a way. It goes without saying that both Jennifer and myself always hold you up as completely à la mode with a degree of stylishness that few can approach. Please remember how young and inexperienced my child is. How she has behaved has been reprehensible but please make an allowance for her years, or I should say, her lack of them.”

While the offended party didn’t appear to be mollified by these honeyed words, at least she seemed prepared to listen. Mom continued. “Over the next few years the girl has important decisions ahead of her. As you realise, her situation is quite unusual and the life choices she is faced with will have drastic implications for her adulthood.”

Madeleine inclined her head attentively and seemed to thaw a little.

“Perhaps when she is a little older she will be able to approach your and her relationship with greater maturity. I have always thought of you one of my closest friends. Can I impose upon that friendship and ask you to forbear and give her the space she needs? Perhaps in the meantime we can regard the engagement as on hold rather than broken?”

My intended spouse apparently softened at this suggestion. She put her hands on my shoulders and actually smiled. “Jennifer, Jennifer! You will never know how much heartache I have suffered in these past weeks. I have been so anxious about you, wondering where you were and how you were living. I worried that, delicately placed as you are, your fragile beauty might have suffered irrevocably.”

“As it is” she continued serenely “I can see that you have grown lovelier and more womanly than ever.” A gesture indicated that the manner of growth of my swelling body more than met with her approval. “Of course I can wait, though hopefully for not too many months, if you need that time. I only ask that you don’t forget me. Let us begin a regular correspondence right away.”

I found myself enfolded in an intimate embrace which I did my best to reciprocate. The suggested postponement was definitely not something I welcomed. Helpless to alter the outcome, I could only smile my as best as I was able. There was another awkward pause.

My mother’s next suggestion was aimed at easing the tension of the moment. “Of course, we can’t let you bear the financial burden of the wedding arrangements which you have incurred on behalf of Jennifer. You must allow me to repay you every cent of what it has cost.”

Knowing my mother’s resources were likely to be stretched to breaking point already, I felt horrified to hear her words. I glanced at Madeleine, half expecting that she would want “not to hear a word of this” and reject the proposal out of hand. Up to now, she had been pleased to assume the role of the rich benefactress, but there was no debate on the subject and before I knew it, Mom’s offer had been accepted. Not long afterwards we took our leave. I was treated to another lingering embrace and then after we’d made our exit, could breathe a sigh of relief.

I doubted that the fruits of this visit provided much to be pleased at. While it had ended cordially enough, I would have preferred a clean break with my ex. My mom had a more definite view. “The nerve of the woman! I cannot recall when I’ve had to put up with such an insincere display. You will not write to her if you have any sense. I can see that in future we will need to have as little to do with her as possible.”

Mom’s resolve suited me just fine, but I wondered if there might be further unwelcome consequences nonetheless.

“As to repaying her, that will take some doing. I will have to work some extra shifts, I can see.” The goal of accumulating the sum in question sounded unattainable to my horrified ears.

“I’ll help you, Mom. I’m earning good money now” I assured her.

My mother looked at me doubtfully then laughed and hugged me. “That’s sweet of you honey, but you’re supporting yourself as it is, which is a real blessing, and quite enough help. Thank-you all the same.”

Nevertheless I made a resolve there and then to do much more for her than the little she expected.

The following afternoon Rachel called to collect me as arranged. My mother had been able to pack an additional case of clothing to take back with me so I wedged it in the trunk with the rest of the luggage. It would be good to have a wider selection of clothes, especially if they included some items of an ‘everyday’ more practical nature. It might mean that I need not be continually overdressed, if I so chose. The parting wasn’t easy and neither Mom’s eyes nor mine were dry. Tom, naturally, rolled his own upwards at this display of feminine emotion, but I was surprised and amused to get a quick hug and peck on the cheek even from him, accompanied by his use of my femme name. “’Bye, Jennifer.” That was a first!

The following day I was waiting in line at the bus stop as patiently as I could. A grey overcast filled the sky, I’d had a busy time at the salon and my feet were sore. I couldn’t wait to get out of my shoes. My mind had drifted far away when a screech of brakes and a beep on a horn brought me back to reality with a jerk. I turned to see a bright red pick-up which had stopped at the kerbside a few yards further down the road. Hanging out of the window was a male figure, waving and wearing a familiar grin. Harvey!

“Jennifer! Want a ride?” he yelled.

The other folk at the stop immediately turned and stared at me. I found myself blushing in confusion. What could be the reason for that, I wonder?

Gathering my wits, I eagerly nodded my acceptance and ran towards the vehicle, smiling all over my face. Simply to be out of public scrutiny would be a relief.

I pulled the door open and hastened to get in, remembering at the last minute to park my butt on the seat and neatly swivel my legs inside in an attempt to display the most ladylike manner. Yes I know, but little things count! If you are going to do something you might as well go all the way. My spirits lifted immediately. After a long day at work it was a real treat to get a ride home, and especially with a good friend. We could have a cosy chat all the way.

Harvey, however, was a little tongue-tied at first and it took a while for our conversation to get going.

“Been busy today?” I asked, just for something to say.

“Oh, I’m always busy. If I’m not delivering laundry there’s always something that needs moving somewhere.”

“I can see you’re much in demand” I encouraged.

“That’s me!” he laughed.

“Does it pay well?”

“I get by. You might think my job at the hospital is not a great career choice right now, but in time I want to start my own business. I plan to have a bunch of guys doing all the hard work while I sit back and rake in the dough!”

More laughter, then another lull in our talk ensued. This time my driver broke the silence. “Have you plans, after college I mean?”

I thought for a minute. “I’ve mapped out nothing definite. I guess I might open my own salon, I don’t know. That would be the obvious choice, but I’ll have plenty of time to decide. Two whole years.”

“You’ll be eighteen, by then?”

“Yes” and thinking of my doctor’s words, “I’ll need to have made some big decisions by then.”

And how!

Just a few minutes later as we were approaching apartment block, Harvey asked the question I’d been dreading, or looking forward to, I wasn’t sure, or how I would answer if he did… ask the question, I mean.

“About that coke, would you still like to meet?”

“I don’t mind!” my attempt at feigning indifference was spoiled by the consciousness that my cheeks were burning. “Yes, okay. When?”

“How about tomorrow night, 8pm?”

Any confusion my new friend might have been feeling was ably covered by his being occupied by pulling up at the kerbside, stopping the engine and applying the parking brake. He was doing better than I at assuming a nonchalant stance. My brain seemed to have frozen!

“Okay, I guess” was all I could think to reply.

“Okay then. Looking forward to it.” Harvey alighted and held the door for me.

“Thank-you kind sir” I bobbed. After a few steps I turned and gave him a dignified wave in a lame attempt to appear calm and in control. “See you tomorrow! Bye!”

“Bye!”

Next minute he was gone and I entered to building with my head in a whirl. Telling myself “It’s just a drink, it isn’t a date” over and over as I slowly mounted the stairs, I tried to combat the giddy feelings of joy which had overtaken me. At the very least, I knew I had to get rid of the ear-to-ear grin from across my face before I met anyone.

Get a grip, for heaven’s sake!

Before bed that night I had some decisions to make. Earlier when I’d told Rachel about the invitation, although she had been careful not to allude to my forthcoming meeting with Harvey as a date, she’d managed to impress upon me the necessity for setting the appropriate tone if we were to meet just as friends.

“What are you thinking of wearing?” was her first concern and it soon became mine. “You like to dress prettily but I’d advise nothing too romantic. That could lead to assumptions being made about your intentions.”

“But I don’t have any intentions!”

“No, but Harvey won’t know that. Smart and feminine but sensible will maintain your advantage.”

“Advantage?”

“Yes. You have the advantage of knowing that he likes you enough to want to spend time with you, whereas he won’t know what you feel about him.”

“Actually, neither will I, so that will make two of us!” I pointed out, jokingly.

Though we both laughed, the remark was based on a serious concern.

Rachel could sympathise. “You’re all mixed up over this, aren’t you? Let’s see. What do you want from Harvey?”

I shrugged helplessly.

“Well if you can’t be sure, the best thing for both of you will be to play it cool.”

Sound advice, but carrying it out might be easier said than done. I came away understanding that in the immediate term I needed to make some mature decisions regarding my choice of dress. After undressing down to my underwear, I opened my closet and took stock. Now that my wardrobe had been augmented by the contents of the additional suitcase packed up by Mom, I was treated to a much wider selection. How to begin?

I reckoned that wearing something new would provide a welcome boost for my morale so I would steer away from depending on my old favourites. I knew that my parent had been busy sewing and created a couple of new dresses so they would be the first ones to try on. The prettiest of these was an above knee frock in a delicate peach chiffon. The material swayed and floated around me when I moved. I immediately fell in love with it. It felt heavenly to be attired in something so flimsy and feminine. I danced across the room and spun myself around revelling in the way the silky fabric moved in response. The thought that the feelings which had overtaken me were strange ones for a teenage boy stopped me in my tracks and I checked the mirror, remembering Rachel’s words of caution.

My image looked back at me disapprovingly. While the dress itself was divine… I mean it was okay... the effect it achieved was the opposite of what I had been advised to go for. The cut of the bodice was low and the hemline well above my knee. It was totally frivolous and romantic and calculated to create entirely the wrong impression. Disappointedly I took it off and turned to the other new item.

This one looked more promising. In a yellow chequered cloth of a heavier weight, it was at once more formal and more practical than the first. True, the skirt was a little on the short side but I reckoned I might get away with that. I turned around and back, pleased with the flow of the skirt as I moved. I liked this one. A lot! Once again, however, a critical second glance in the mirror heralded the demise of this particular choice.

The neckline was way too revealing for my intended purpose especially as the little sleeves refused to sit upon my shoulders. They left the latter bare and drew attention to the overall décolleté style. Harvey wouldn’t know where to look, or rather, the poor guy would know exactly where not to look and he’d have to spend the evening trying. That was no good, unless I planned to seduce him. I didn’t, of course! At least I think I didn’t! It was hard to be sure of anything in my undecided state of conflicting emotions.
Why was this so difficult? Aargh!

Diva Dismayed: Chapter 15 – Not a date
Despairingly I looked along the closet rail and couldn’t find anything which was new or newish and which hit the spot. I’d just resigned myself to defeat when finally a skirt caught my eye. It was straight and in a bright floral brocade and one I hadn’t worn before. The label told me that Mom must have found it in a sale. I stepped into it, pulled it up around my middle and fastened the zipper. I stood before the glass critically but thankfully it looked just right.

It was neither too short nor too long and said sensible and practical, but smart and cheerful also. I determined there and then to go with this particular choice. Thank goodness that was settled! I breathed a huge sigh of relief. But then… what on earth would I wear with it?

At this point I decided that enough was enough for one evening. I would just have to sleep on it and hope that inspiration had grown wings by morning. I called it a night and turned in exhausted.

The next morning found me no nearer solving the puzzle I’d set myself. What to wear that evening for my not-a-date with Harvey was proving highly problematic. It was no good rationalising that it really didn’t matter that much. I wanted our friendship to start off on the right footing and it piqued me to think that despite all my experience over the past months I seemed to be less able to select an appropriate outfit than a typical girl of my years would. Call it pride if you will, but if I had to live like a female it wasn’t going to be as a second-rate one.

The best option I’d come up so far with seemed to be the straight skirt. Surely I ought to be able to team it with a little top of some sort, but finding something suitable could be just as tricky. My funds were extremely low so going shopping for something suitable was out of the question. Neither had I had time to consult Rachel again before she’d left for work. I’d been unable to draw on that fount of all wisdom just when I needed to.

I began to wonder whether I should consult one of the other girls I knew… but whom? I could ask the women at work… but then I’d have to explain about my date, and how it wasn’t really a date, and then I’d have to give a detailed account of how it went. How awkward would that be? Without doubt I would get ribbed mercilessly!

Then there was Della. As soon as I thought of her I ruled her out. There were two issues with confiding in her. She was clearly not a style expert in any shape or form, though no doubt she would have been ready to throw in her two cents worth if asked. On top of that I was all too well aware how she would view my meeting a boy at all. She would be free with her opinion of my choice of companion and that would have been about as low as my opinion of her dress sense. No, here was a problem I would have to solve on my own.

On my bus ride to the salon that morning with my difficulty was no nearer a solution, I gazed vacantly out of the window. The pane of glass was smeared and grimy and its lack of clarity seemed to reflect my own lack of vision. I brooded disconsolately that there was no assistance likely to be had out there. Or was there? I was about to get out of my seat as we approached the downtown when something caught my eye. In the shop window we were passing a flash of colour attracted me. It was at the Goodwill store. I turned my head but couldn’t make out properly what I’d seen. However I got the strongest impression that there had been a top on one of the mannequins there which was the exact same colour as my skirt.

There wasn’t time for me to investigate just then. I had to contain my excitement all morning until at lunchtime I made my way to the store. It was several blocks away from the salon and the walk seemed interminable. I was so impatient to get there that I almost ran part of the way.

When I arrived I was dismayed to find that there was nothing in the window which remotely resembled what I’d thought I’d seen. I shook my head discouraged and was about to turn away when a movement stopped me in my tracks. One of the store assistants was engaged in undressing a mannequin in a window at the farther end of the storefront. If the clothes on the dummies were being changed then might that mean that the item which had caught my eye could now be somewhere on a rail within?

Feeling like a dummy myself, I went inside. I expected it would be a matter of seconds to find anything in the bright colour I was looking for, but my first hasty glance around the room disclosed nothing at all similar. More deliberately I searched through each of the several rails in turn, but again was disappointed. Aware that the time remaining for my short lunch break was fast disappearing, my shoulders slumped. Surely what I was seeking hadn’t been sold. How unlucky was that?

As a final throw of the dice I approached the counter and consulted an assistant. “Pardon me, but I wonder if you can help me. In your window I noticed a kind of jacket this morning. It was in a bright shade of red. Do you still have it for sale, by any chance?”

The woman looked doubtful. “It aint there now honey? Have you checked all the rails?”

I first shook my head, then nodded in reply. Hope was fast disappearing.

She grimaced “Sorry dearie. It’s most likely gawn.”

I was about to turn away when she yelled across the store to a colleague. “Thelma!”
The person whose attention had been attracted so abruptly walked across to us. “How many times have I told you not to shout?” She was frowning as she approached.

From her manner I guessed that Thelma must be the person in charge. The first woman was unabashed. “Was there a red jacket in the window display this morning, do you recall? Has it been sold?”

The manageress’s frown deepened but her next words were music to my ears. “As it happens I remember it perfectly. I took it down when I changed the display and put it in back, along with the rest of the stuff I’d taken out of the window. It will be back on the rail directly.”

Turning to me, “Is it you that’s asking, miss?”

Breathlessly I assured her it was. Time was fast running out. “Can I see it please?”

That evening I had the opportunity to put my new purchase with the skirt I’d settled on the night before. Together they looked more than promising. Breathlessly I hastened to try them both on. A look in the glass told me the combination was nigh on perfect and I was so delighted I danced around the room! Feeling rather proud of myself, I couldn’t wait till I showed my handiwork to Rachel. She had better be impressed!

My friend proved to be just as appreciative of my outfit as I’d hoped, especially after I’d explained how I’d put it together.

“That was lucky, finding something which goes so well,” she exclaimed. “You do realise that red is about the most difficult colour to coordinate. There are just too many shades.”

Her manner became serious. “Now there’s one thing you really ought to consider. I know you don’t regard this meet-up with Harvey as a date.”
I was about to protest the innocence of my motives but Rachel held up her hand and continued. “And I accept that it isn’t one. But…”

Aargh! I just knew there was a ‘but’ on the way.

“But, it may turn into one. Or a date may follow, who knows? Either way, in fairness to Harvey, you need to consider whether you ought to be open with him, and if so when. That’s all I’m saying.”

I knew my mentor was right. It was a problem, however. Not only was divulging a secret like mine potentially explosive in any relationship, but above all else I would need to be sure I could trust him for absolute discretion ever afterwards. That would be quite a tall order.

Harvey and I had arranged to meet at a little bar at the side of a local food hall a few blocks away. The latter would be closed up for the evening but the bar itself remained open till late. With few customers at that time of day we could be sure that the place offered an ideal venue for a quiet get together. When I arrived, my possibly a date, possibly not, was already there waiting for me, wearing his customary grin. The décor was cheerful and quirky and my companion and I were soon at our ease sitting on bar stools side by side and sipping coke from the bottle.

Though all we did was talk, the evening went really well. I found the guy so easy to chat to. We seemed to be on the same page whatever the subject. I told him about my mom and Tom and he really seemed to understand how I felt about them. I learned about his family. He lived with his dad, who he made out was an old redneck, and there was a brother in the army. Harvey was full of optimism and he made everything sound like it was fun.

One thing he didn’t mention, not that it mattered in the least of course, was how I looked in my new outfit. I kept expecting him to make a remark each time there was a lull in the conversation, but no. It left me wondering more and more as time went on. Was I okay? A “you look nice” would have sufficed. It didn’t bother me. Well, perhaps I was a little bit piqued. After all I’d expended a lot of effort in putting the combination together, also in getting myself ready, though not for him, particularly. Knowing I appeared to advantage always gave me confidence, is all. At some point when I had become quite animated in what I was saying, I found myself standing in front of him. I don’t know how it came about. It must have been an unconscious sort of thing. I mean, I wasn’t coming on to him! Really!

But he still didn’t seem to notice. Aargh!

After our second coke, a glance at my watch told me that hours had flown by. Reluctantly I pointed out that it was time to go. We both had an early start next morning and, as this wasn’t a date, there could be no justification for our staying out particularly late. We set out on our walk back. As we strolled along, I wondered how the evening was going to end. All I knew was that I didn’t want it to. My companion pulled my arm through his and we naturally fell into step. We didn’t need to speak much and I felt nice and close to my companion.

Searching around for a fresh topic, Harvey asked me when my studies would start.

“In two weeks.”

“Really? That soon? Are you looking forward to it?”

“Half of me is, but the other half is scared stiff. It is all so completely new. I don’t know anyone, or anything, for that matter.”

“You’ll be fine” my companion assured me. His gentle pressure on my hand under his arm felt very reassuring. “Remember. All that you’ll be studying will just be theory. You’ve got a whole heap of solid experience to draw on. Like my old dad always says, there’s no substitute for real life.”

“I hope he’s right in this case.”

We were approaching my apartment block and both fell silent again. I had a premonition that the evening wasn’t quite over and that something was about to happen.

“You know, I didn’t mention it before because I must sound like a stuck record, but I think you’re beautiful. You look real swell tonight.”

I coloured up and stammered my thanks. There! He’d said it!

Harvey turned to face me. “Can we do this again some time?”

“I’d like that.” The words came out involuntarily.

“Great! I guess it’s goodnight then.”

“I guess.”

Then he kissed me!

It wasn’t the greatest kiss ever, certainly not in the same league as the one I’d experienced with Della in the park, but it was our first real kiss and so it felt special on that account. I might have kissed him back. Actually I definitely did and I have to admit that I didn’t want to stop. Hmm! I think that might have made it a date!
Oh no!

Diva Dismayed: Chapter 16 – A Rollercoaster Ride
The next day at the salon there was a surprise in store. Mrs Millward called all of us into her office and made an announcement.

“You may have noticed, ladies, that the premises next door have recently been put on the market. It was soon sold and the purchaser just so happens to be… myself!”

Murmurs of astonishment and approval greeted her declaration.

She continued smilingly, “Yes. You will be wondering what plans I have for the place. Well it’s still something of a secret but I plan to open small fashion boutique. I have come to agreeable terms with some first-rate designers and that opens up a very exciting prospect. We will be very haute-couture, let me tell you! To operate this new business I have taken on two new assistants who have plenty of experience between them and they will be managed by Rosa. This role will be in addition to her present responsibilities and she has agreed to increase her hours and work full time in order to fulfil it. I know you will all be supportive of her. Thank-you for your attention. That is all.”

The ensuing buzz of conversation showed the degree of interest raised by this new venture. A high-class fashion shop right next door! How exciting would that be? Not that I cared about a dress store personally, of course. I mean, why would any teenage boy care? Well, perhaps I felt just a touch of curiosity. Okay, I have to admit that for the rest of the day it was all I could think about! The thought of how it would feel to be dressed in some really elegant clothes, like a star in a thirties movie, was enticing. It was something I could only imagine.

Those imaginings captivated me all afternoon. I wasn’t the only one so engaged either, judging by the smiles on the faces of every member of staff.
At the close of the day Sally and I were asked to step in to the proprietor’s office again. The two new members of staff, Brenda and Jean were there. We were introduced, and then we met with an unexpected request from our employer. “I have a favour to ask. In three weeks’ time our new store will be up and running. On the evening before we open I am planning to launch the venture by staging a fashion show. Our two new ladies here have agreed to model some of the lines.”

The girls smiled and nodded assent.

Mrs Millward continued. “However two models won’t be enough if the event is to flow smoothly. I’m hoping that either or both of you might also like to take part? You would naturally be paid for the additional hours. How about it?”

Sally’s eyes met mine with unveiled delight. “You just bet we will.”

Her enthusiasm was infectious. “Try and stop us!” I heard myself exclaim.

Our employer expressed her gratitude and then went on to expand on her hopes for the future of her enterprise. She appeared almost as excited as we. I left the office in a happy daze. The invitation offered a welcome break from my daily routine. Besides and more practically, it would provide an opportunity to increase my scanty funds. With an increase of income I might even be able to fulfil my promise to help out my parent’s finances.

It was only when I was seated on the bus for the return journey home that reality caught up with me. What was I thinking of? Was I really going to allow myself to be put under the spotlight at a fashion show? The sort of notoriety which might result was exactly the opposite of what I needed. Perhaps it was not too late and I might back out. After all, my involvement couldn’t be essential to the success of the evening. I wasn’t as tall as the others so I would surely not be missed. Also, I could plead that I was just too plain nervous to go through with it.

I tried both these methods of escape the next day but my lame excuses cut no ice. I apparently had a special role to perform.

“I have a particular need, Jennifer, for someone as young as yourself to show some of the lines” my employer explained. “Though you aren’t as tall as the others, some of the dresses we will be exhibiting are specifically aimed at the teenage end of the spectrum. I don’t know how I would be able to replace your pretty young face if you were to drop out. Don’t worry. We’ll all be having butterflies over the next few weeks. You will by no means be alone. However there’s so much to do that we won’t have time to let our nerves get the better of us. You will just have to be brave. I feel sure that once the show is underway you will find it super fun and will have a ball!”

The following evening I returned from work to find a parcel awaiting me. Its contents heralded that a whole new phase of my life was about to begin. The syllabus of my forthcoming courses of study was set out in great detail, together with the joining instructions, rules, regulations, guidelines, dos and don’ts. The lecturers were named with a potted biography of each; also my tutor. I was impressed how comprehensive all this information was. It gave answers to questions I hadn’t even dreamed of posing and brought home to me how few days remained before I embarked on this new experience.

The first semester I would be studying three subjects apparently: The Basic Science of the Skin, Dermatopathology and Dermoscopy. The prospect was quite daunting. I could hardly pronounce some of these terms let alone pretend to understand the first thing about them. I just had to hope that the actual subjects were more comprehensible than the titles.

When I mentioned the parcel to Rachel, we’d just eaten supper and were clearing up afterwards. The prospect of all this study was something I was beginning to find outfacing and I said so. To my dismay, my friend didn’t see any too sympathetic.

“Well, you know how to eat an elephant, don’t you?” came her cryptic rejoinder.

“What..?” I didn’t find this apparent attempt at clarification very helpful.

“One spoonful at a time, silly!”

I only smiled at the joke, feeling just as helpless as before.

“No, I’m serious. You will just need to keep focussing on each lesson as it comes along and deal with that before moving on to the next. That’s how I managed to pass my exams and get qualified. I’ve never been the brightest trinket in the box and people didn’t rate my chances, but I kept going because it was what I wanted more than anything else. It won’t be easy, but you can do anything if you stick at it.”
We were in my room this evening. We usually alternated from one day to the next. It was nice to get the chance to be the other’s guest and then have the opportunity to be the host.

Tonight Rachel’s face looked unusually troubled. “You will need to make studying a priority. In fact it may not be good to get too deeply involved with Harvey just now.”

“Why, what’s wrong with him? I thought you liked him.”

“Don’t get me wrong. I’ve nothing against him. He’s really nice, very thoughtful and caring. It isn’t that.”

“Well what then?”

“It will be hard to focus on your studies if you’re newly dating at the same time. I’m just saying… you might want to take it slow at first.”

My friend’s eyes didn’t meet mine as she said this. Was there more to her rationale than she was letting on? I considered her words carefully. Eventually I was able to answer, if reluctantly “I guess you’re right. I really don’t know how it’s going to pan out.”

We left the subject hanging there. My attention was immediately diverted by Rachel’s next remark. “Have you remembered? You’re due for your hormone injection today.”

I grimaced in response. I’d never been fond of needles, but I knew there was no need for any anxiety as I lay on my bed and lifted my skirt. There couldn’t be anyone more gentle then my friend when it came to administering my medication.

Tonight, however, proved to be an exception. As Rachel readied the syringe I mentioned the matter which was currently bothering me the most. “How am I going to tell Harvey… about, you know… Oww!”

Whether my question had distracted my friend in the middle of her action, I can’t be sure. Her insertion of the needle had certainly been more abrupt than usual and I felt a painful prick.

“Sorry!” she exclaimed, hastily packing away her medical bag. “I really don’t know what you should say to him, or even if you should tell him. It isn’t possible to predict how any boy would react to that revelation, and it might be worth taking into account his family background. From what he says himself, his father is no liberal, so you can’t be sure of the stance Harvey might take.” She continued gravely “That may even be a reason for putting your relationship on hold for now. You have to consider whether telling him is worth the risk. While I don’t believe he would deliberately break your trust, letting something slip unintentionally can be all too easy.”

She shook her pretty head and shrugged. “Anyway, it’s late and I need to go. All I can advise you is that you give it some more thought before you commit to anything.” With that she was gone, leaving me looking after her abrupt departure with concern. It was plain that something was really bothering Rachel. I couldn’t guess what. She’d left without our usual goodnight hug.

Regarding my taking part in the fashion show, I’d found in the end that there had been nothing for it but to reconcile myself to what lay ahead. I knew I was too dependent on the goodwill of the salon owner to disappoint her seriously, so I had to go along with whatever she expected me to do.

Over several of the following days Sally and I stayed an hour after work to help Rosa and the new girls, Brenda and Jean, with the preparations for the show. Also we rehearsed what we would be expected to do. Both of the new assistants were taller than me and had shapely figures. They were in their late twenties, so it was determined that the more sophisticated fashions should fall to their lot. Sally was also tall and a little older too. There were some examples of a rather off-beat range of styles which would be suited by her quirky good looks.

I was the only youngster so I was assigned what was termed the ‘debutante’ collection. When I saw the delicate frocks which had been allotted to me my knees literally went weak. I was overwhelmed by the carnival of silky materials and gauzy layers. Frills and frou-frou were in abundance. When I held up the first of my dresses and I ran my hands over its soft fabric I found myself almost trembling with awe. This wasn’t good. I was experiencing far too many of the reactions of a moonstruck girl, for heaven’s sake! The fact that I wasn’t one didn’t seem to help me gain control over my senses. I needed to get a grip on myself.

“They’re just dresses” I reminded myself. Nevertheless I had the strongest feeling that they were a lot more than that. Confirmation came when I tried them on for fit. Each and every dress seemed to have the power to transform an (almost) ordinary teenager into some kind of fairy princess. I couldn’t begin to describe where I was transported to but the accompanying sensations were somehow magical.

Once it had been decided which dresses we each would be wearing, an intricate timetable for the evening was drawn up. It was clear that the intervals between our times on the runway ideally ought to be kept to an absolute minimum to enable the event to flow smoothly. Each girl’s changeover was therefore going to require help if it were to be slick enough. To get out of one gown and into the next as quickly as possible I soon found out that I had to allow myself to be unceremoniously stripped down to my panties by comparative strangers. Repeatedly! Any hopes I’d entertained of keeping covered up so I might preserve some shreds of modesty proved groundless. No chance of that!

It might have been expected that after a few of the rehearsals I would get accustomed to my body being manipulated. It was not so however. The others quickly became blasé but I had to contend with additional sensations which kept arising in my private area, or would have ‘arisen’ if unrestrained. I blushed crimson every time. My embarrassment caused considerable mirth among my fellows and actually encouraged them to make unnecessarily free with their wandering hands.

On top of this teasing my discomfort was increased by my continual closeness to their own semi-clad bodies. I really didn’t know where to look. It was even more disturbing when I was called upon to assist in squeezing them into tight and clinging garments. I couldn’t decide which situation of the two had more impact on me. It took every ounce of self-control to keep my breathing normal to prevent my bodily excitement being detected. My private area sometimes felt it was about to burst through the tapes I had carefully applied that morning! Fortunately everything held. Not that I didn’t find all this enjoyable, but trying to sleep each night after an evening spent this way was an ordeal in itself, and best not described!

The days flew by and before I knew it there was now only one week remaining before the college semester started. On the Wednesday I unexpectedly bumped into Harvey who was getting into his truck. While I was recovering from the surprise he asked me directly if I’d like to go out with him again.

“There’s a pool party on Sunday at the house of a friend of mine. How are you fixed?”

Before I knew it I’d agreed to go.

“Great, I’ll pick you up about 3pm. Got to dash!” and with that he’d driven off.

I gazed after him blankly. What had I been thinking?! As I returned to my room it was clear to me that I hadn’t been. Before this meeting I’d grudgingly made the decision to put our relationship on hold and now here I was, doing the opposite of what I intended. I knew Rachel wouldn’t be back from work yet but oh, how I needed to confide in her. She would advise the best thing for me to do. On the slight chance that she might have returned early I ran upstairs but on checking her room I found it empty. Though that was only what I expected I felt hugely disappointed. I was returning disconsolately when I encountered Della on the landing. She was the last person I wanted to see right then but out of politeness I felt I had to stop and exchange greetings. Accordingly I uttered a muted “Hi, Della!” and made to turn away.

“My! You’re in a hurry little miss.” I felt sure that this exclamation heralded an interrogation which I could well do without. I tried to head her off at the pass.

“Oh, yes. I promised Rachel I would help her prepare supper but she isn’t back yet. I’ll come back later.” I was improvising wildly but to no avail.

“Sounds ideal to me! When she gets back, let her do the work and you can get the credit for offering to help. What could be better?”
I tried to smile but actually felt closer to tears. If only the girl would let me alone, but no such luck.

“Why? You’ve been crying!”

Actually I hadn’t, but only by the expedient of blinking back my incipient tears. Now the undesired sympathy I was getting let the dam burst. To my shame I broke down and sobbed openly.

Della was all concern. She took charge and ushered me into her room. She sat me in a chair and closed the door behind us.
Trapped!

Diva Dismayed 17: Chapter 17 – Problems
“Tell me what’s wrong” she began, when my tears had abated somewhat. She handed me a tissue. “You know. A problem shared is a problem halved.”

I blew my nose loudly and tried to and get a hold on my emotions. The last thing I wanted to do was share anything with Della, particularly anything of a sensitive nature. I gave her what I hoped was a brave if teary smile. “Oh, I expect it’s just my hormones” I explained in a lame attempt to pass off my distress. Actually my statement was probably more accurate than I was aware of!

“Oh! Is it that time?” she asked. “You had better have an aspirin. Here. I’ll make us some tea and I can fill a hot water bottle at the same time. I find if I wrap one in a towel and keep it on my belly, it takes the worst of the pains away really quickly.”

Della bustled about, while I sat in her chair and wondered how I was going to make my escape from her unnecessary kindnesses. She made me sit back and placed the water bottle carefully on my tummy, then she perched on the arm of the chair.

“Now do you need anything? Is it very heavy? I have plenty of towels if you need them.”

I shook my head. “Thanks, anyway.”

“Tampons too” she added a little slyly. “Do you use those? The brand I like to use are really good. They feel so soft and silky. When you slip one inside it’s really nice. Know what I mean?”

This was way too much information, and my resulting embarrassment galvanised me into action. I stood up. “You know, I feel so much better now. I really should be going.”

I squeezed her hand in gratitude. “Thank you for the tea and the aspirin, and for being so kind and… helpful.”

I wasn’t to escape so easily however. Before I could make my exit, my new benefactress had enveloped me in a hug. It seemed to go on much longer that was necessary and included a brush of her lips against my cheek. In fact it was only by turning my head at the last minute that I missed receiving a more intimate kiss. However exciting that might have promised to be, it would probably have given rise to more powerful emotions than I could cope with right then. Before the embrace ended I felt a hand descend to rest on, then squeeze, my butt. In shock I simply froze and my inaction seemed to encourage the other hand to join it. Aargh!
Actually being touched like that felt strangely comforting despite the fact that comfort from Della was not what I was looking for. After a few moments of this intimacy she pulled away. She put her hands on my shoulders, and regarded me appraisingly.

“What you need is a pick me up” she prescribed. “Come on.”

Her manner was forceful and I didn’t know how to raise an objection. She quickly changed her slippers for a pair of loafers and grabbed her purse from the back of a chair. Then taking hold of my hand, with an “I know just the place” she led me out of her apartment, down the stairs and out of the building. I had no idea where we were headed but we walked several blocks, took a couple of turns and then darted down a side alley. A flickering neon sign high on a building proclaimed “Toni’s Bar” and we entered.

The hallway was dimly lit. We crossed it and my conductress led me up a narrow flight of stairs to reach the bar-room. Looking towards the further end of the room, I noticed tables for two lining both walls. There was a 12-seat bar built into the far corner, and framed pictures hung on the walls. Their style was arty and the subject matter seemed to be pretty much exclusively women. As a first impression the bar appeared much like any other, though perhaps the tired décor suggested that it might be bit of a dive.

For such an early hour of the evening the room was surprisingly busy. When I looked around more attentively I realised that there hardly any men among the clientele of the establishment. The bartenders were also women, and from that I figured that the place was probably owned by a woman, presumably Toni. Some of the patrons wore dresses or skirts, but a good number were in slacks and blazers and had short, masculine haircuts. I’d encountered nowhere like this before.

“Let’s get you a drink” recommended my companion. “Something to set you up.”

A drink would be very welcome but I wanted to retain some independence so declared. “I’d like a coke, but I’ll pay.” Fortunately I’d brought my purse with me and produced the necessary.

“Okay, but I’d better order.” Della sat me at one of the tables then went and to the bar. She came back with my change and sat opposite me, smiling her enigmatic smile. After a little while the bartender came over with our drinks.

“Hi Della. Good to see you. Whose is the beer?”

“Hi Margot. For me” said my self-appointed caretaker “and the… other one for Jennifer here.”

“I see you’ve got yourself a new femmie friend. Cute too! Hi sweetie, glad you could make it.”

The woman walked away. Was it my imagination or had she given me a strange look as she put my drink down? I took a hearty gulp, and choked. The coke tasted unusually sweet. Strong too.

“I can see you need that, but take it slower. Now, drink it gently all the way down.”

I obeyed and came up for air with my head swimming.

“Better?”

I nodded and Della signalled across the room for another. “Same again” she mouthed to the bartender pointing to my glass.

When the woman came over, Della made as if to pay but was interrupted very abruptly.

“Just hold your horses there.” Then to me “Now, honey. You think you can fool me?”

Completely taken aback, I looked at her wide-eyed. What did she mean? How could she know and how had she guessed? I’d gotten so used to being accepted for what I appeared to be but was not, that being read so easily came as something of a shock.

“Oh yes. I can tell you’re pretending. Like to let me in on your little secret?”

Aghast, I looked blankly at her. How ought I respond? I didn’t know what to say.

Margot folded her arms and pursed her lips. “Just how old are you?”

“Sixteen” I faltered.

“I thought so. Della, that’s not fair. You should know better.”

“Aww. Come on. It was just a couple of drinks. No big deal” my companion expostulated sheepishly.

What did my age matter? I was only drinking coke, wasn’t I?

“No big deal! Didn’t you hear that the Calypso got raided only last week. The boys in blue are real hot on us right now. They don’t need any excuse. Do you want us closed down?”

“Course not! Sorry!”

“Well, you can take your little friend out of here this minute” the woman concluded. “And if you ever pull another stunt like this you’ll be permanently barred.”

Looking suitably abashed Della rose and made her way towards the exit. I stood to follow her but was restrained by a hand on my arm. A woman at the next table delayed my progress. She was one of those with her hair cut short. Under her jacket she wore a shirt and man’s tie.

“Honey, you’re awful sweet. It’s Jennifer isn’t it?” Her companion looked on disapprovingly.

I gazed at her wondering what she wanted. She gave me what was intended as a disarming smile while retrieving a card from the pocket of her pants. “You can call me Pete and there’s my number. If you ever need a place to unwind I only live around the corner. Phone me any time if you want to come over and relax. I can promise you all the Jack that you feel like drinking, with or without coke.”

The card was pressed slyly into my hand. Not wanting to make any show of resistance, I slipped it into my purse as I retrieved the latter from my chair. Out of the tail of my eye I saw Della waiting in the doorway and wearing a look of disapproval. When I turned to leave my butt experienced a not altogether playful pinch which went right through me and stopped me in my tracks. I found myself giving an involuntary gasp but whether it was with surprise or pleasure I couldn’t be sure. Possibly a mixture of both! Glancing over my shoulder I caught a come hither look on the face of this latest acquaintance, a look of invitation. In panic I hastened away. What was wrong with the people in this town? Why did everyone try and come on to me?

I faced the inevitable question on joining my companion. “What did she want?”

I shrugged. “Just being friendly, I think” I answered airily. “She said something about my drinks. What did she mean?”

Della didn’t reply. She was unusually quiet on the way back to the apartment block. Passing the drug store she said she had some purchases to make so we parted company there and I walked on, glad to be finally alone.

When I got to my door a footfall on the stair below made me aware of the approach of another person. Prepared to meet anyone other than my recent companion I glanced anxiously over the rail and was thankful to see Rachel’s head appear in view, followed of course by the rest of her. The image was more welcome than ever to my fevered brain. I managed to restrain my feelings until we were safely in my apartment and then threw my arms around her. It was all I could do to stop myself from weeping on her shoulder.

She looked surprised but pleased at the warmth of the embrace.

“Well it’s nice to be wanted” she laughed.

I didn’t care. Safe again!

After we’d prepared out meal we sat and ate. I related to my friend what had occurred earlier. She listened wide-eyed and then congratulated me on a narrow escape. “You did well to get out of there. Those places get raided all the time. I was beginning to think I’d misjudged Della, but apparently not. I guess it was nice of her to want to look after you, when all is said and done” she concluded.

I couldn’t disagree, despite the obviously ulterior motive in our neighbour’s behaviour.

“Anyway, are you going to tell me what was wrong in the first place?”

I looked up and at the sight of the genuine concern in Rachel’s eyes, I started to well up all over again. What was the matter with me?

“Well, I did listen to what you said about not dating Harvey” I began.

At the mention of the name, however, she looked away as if contemplating something in the distance. It was as if she had switched off. I was just about to pour out my troubles but halted in mid-sentence. “I… er…”

This apparent inattention on her part was really unlike my mentor.

After a pause I continued “Are you listening?”

“Sorry! I was thinking of… something. Go on.”

“It’s about Harvey.”

“Oh, you must make up your own mind about him. I’ve said my piece. What else is bothering you?”

I then went on to describe the other of the two things that was upsetting me. Over the past weeks the preparations for the fashion show had continued apace and my evening rehearsals were leaving me a nervous wreck. The intimacy I was experiencing with my co-models on a regular basis was naturally not without its pleasures but those were more than countered by the accompanying anxiety I was experiencing. On no account must I give away the secret of my birth gender! Also I could not but help feeling guilty that I was deceiving those who were fast becoming my ‘bosom’ friends. Altogether I could see no way out of my dilemma. As usual, I had taken the line of least resistance.

It was soothing to be able to unburden myself about this and be reassured by my confidante. She assured me that my behaviour didn’t mean that I was a terrible person. At the same time I had to endure some good-natured chaffing from my teasing friend.

“I would have expected that anyone in your situation would be in seventh heaven” she remarked gaily. Then more seriously “How do you stop yourself bursting when faced with all that temptation?”

“I honestly don’t know” was my reply. “I come back here ready to explode, I’m so aroused.”

“That’s interesting. When are you next rehearsing? Tomorrow? Well, tomorrow just happens to be the first of ‘those’ days for me this month.”

I caught her meaning immediately and coloured up.

“It’s a pity you’re so involved with Harvey just now, because otherwise we might have helped each other out. Who knows?” she shrugged.

With a curt “Goodnight” she was gone.

It was with despondent feelings that I readied myself for bed that night.

Rachel’s abrupt manner troubled me more than any of my previous worries. Instead of feeling better our conversation had made me feel so much worse.

Diva Dismayed: Chapter 18 – Troubled water
The following day I spent perplexedly trying to understand what was going wrong in my relationship with my best friend. I was so preoccupied with my thoughts that I picked up a bottle of hair colour instead of shampoo when about to wash the hair of one of my customers. Fortunately I realised what I was about to do before the woman did, prompted by the disapproving look on the face of Claire. Otherwise the resulting pink rinse would have been interesting at the very least!

“What is the matter with you today?” she hissed at me at the first opportune moment. “It’s just as well Rosa didn’t notice anything just now or you would be in big trouble.”

When I did get leisure to think about my friend over my lunch break I still couldn’t decide what was causing the trouble between us. I couldn’t have done anything to upset her, could I? Certainly it would have been unintentional if I had.

I felt miserable. The apparent rift brought home to me that being in harmony with Rachel meant more in my world than anything else. Since the days when she used to babysit me she had always been my idea of female perfection. Becoming her best friend was an unbelievable attainment and something I hadn’t dared to hope for. There were times when I would fantasize about being more than that. Conveniently forgetting the five year age difference between us, and my ‘unusual’ bodily attributes, I had sometimes let myself foolishly imagine that she and I… well… you know.

Of course that could never be!

Unattainable as I judged her to be, how did she think about me? I guessed that she must probably think of me as she would a younger brother. Then I wondered if the footing we were on was perhaps more equal than that. After all she had seemed awfully glad that I had moved here and had treated me like an intimate friend rather than like a sibling. On deeper consideration of the rapport we shared I saw that we must be even closer than that. There had even been occasions when a physical side to our relationship had been revealed. Did that mean… might she… have feelings for me?

I dismissed the idea as a completely stupid one. Our night together, a treasured memory for me, had merely been a matter of helping her deal with her bodily needs. Nonetheless, on the bus ride home the thought came into my head again. Suppose she did have some feelings for me. Could that provide an explanation for this sudden coldness between us? That had started when I’d been trying to discuss Harvey wanting to go out with me, but why should that upset her? I couldn’t think of any logical reason, apart from jealousy, but I could rule that out. Neither jealousy on Harvey’s account or jealously on mine was at all likely. Short of asking her point-blank, how was I to find out?

That evening, after a further rehearsal for the fashion show I made my way to the bus stop in an unsettled frame of mind. It had been more difficult than ever to ignore the attentions of my teasing colleagues in their various stages of undress. I felt mentally drained and when a glance at my watch told me that I had just missed one bus, I actually welcomed the half an hour of idle waiting which resulted from my tardiness, before the next bus was scheduled. To kill the time I decided to walk along the route for a few stops. The exercise might serve to clear my head.

It was after I’d left the downtown behind me that disaster struck. The road was quiet after the evening rush had dissipated. I came to a place where a hydrant had apparently burst and a stream of water gushed along the road and even over the sidewalk in places. I started to pick my way gingerly around the puddles, anxious not to get my shoes too wet, when it happened. Without any warning a delivery truck roared past me and the driver ploughed straight through the middle of the flood, blasting his horn as he did so. The resultant deluge of muddy water was right on target. I was drenched from head to toe. This was just too much!

A full minute went by while I stood transfixed gazing after the vehicle in disbelief until the approach of a car galvanised me into action. I stepped hastily away but wasn’t clear of the water when it passed. This vehicle more considerately hugged the centreline however, so that only a few drops of spray reached me. They didn’t matter. I could hardly have been any wetter.

I felt like crying as I shuffled miserably along in my bedraggled state. I was cold and wet and my clothes clung to me uncomfortably. I knew there would be a further fifteen minutes before the next bus arrived. Worse, my friend was working on the evening shift so wouldn’t be around to comfort me when I did get home. Feeling intensely sorry for myself I even doubted that she would want to be there for me, however unjust such a surmise might have been.

I hadn’t gone very far beyond the water when another car passed me. An open-topped two-seater braked sharply and pulled to the side of the road ahead of me. The driver reversed back and stopped alongside. The person behind the wheel looked vaguely familiar.

“I thought I knew you. It’s Jennifer, isn’t it? You’re very wet!”

Dully, I recognised the woman from the club who had given me her card. Paul… no… Pete! Yes that was the name she had given.

Shivering, probably as much from shock as from cold, I managed to utter a muted greeting. “Oh. Hi.”

“Well don’t just stand there. You’ll catch your death. Get in!”

I stared uncomprehendingly.

“Wait a sec. I’ll cover the leather.”

My Good Samaritan reached a blanket from behind her and spread it over the upholstery then opened the door and ushered me in.

I hesitantly explained what had just occurred, though what had happened was self-evident enough.

“That was awful bad luck, honey. Some people are so mean! I don’t suppose you got his licence plate?”

I shook my head.

Pete put the car in gear and we set off. “No witnesses, huh? Difficult to get anywhere without a witness. You need to get out of those wet clothes.”

Realising my rescuer would want to know my address. I made an effort to rouse myself. “You don’t know where I live.”

“Doesn’t matter, sweetheart. I’m taking you home.”

“But…” I couldn’t think what to protest. It didn’t seem to matter. My new companion had taken charge.

After ten minutes we pulled up outside an apartment block. I vaguely recognised the neighbourhood. It was not far from the club I’d been taken to the previous evening.

“Come on.” I was bundled out of the car and into the building. We reached a door on the second floor and while Pete fumbled for a key in her purse I glanced around. There was an air of luxury about the place, with polished wood in abundance.

“Come on, honey. We need to get you out of those wet clothes.” The apartment was a studio flat, all one room apart from a bathroom and kitchen. The room was expensively furnished but the style was mannish, not at all what you would expect of a woman’s home. My new acquaintance turned me around and unceremoniously unzipped then stripped off my wet dress.

“That’s expensive underwear you’re wearing” she admired. “I get it. Pretty on the outside, sexy on the inside!”

She took me directly over to a sofa and before I knew it my bra was unhooked and lying on the floor. While I tried vainly to cover my bust with my hands my garter belt followed. Then the woman knelt, took off my shoes and peeled off my wet hose.

“Hmm. I guessed there might be more to you than meets the eye.” She was correct of course but her observation was ambiguous and I was anxious not to explore its possible meanings any further.

Although kind, her manner was forceful. I didn’t seem to have any choice but to let her do whatever she liked with me. Her body was stocky and powerful and the skin-tight pants she wore didn’t hide much. I found it hard not to keep glancing in the direction of her broad hips. My over-stimulated imagination was racing and to my further embarrassment, I was conscious of stirrings down below. After all the exposure to female flesh I’d experienced earlier in the day it didn’t take anything much to get me going. I sat on the arm of the sofa and crossed my legs and was hopeful that there was nothing for her to notice.

I must have looked forlorn sitting shivering in only my panties. After a moment regarding me, she fetched a fleecy white robe. She wrapped me in it and she hugged me against her bosom comfortingly. In response to this tenderness I dissolved into tears. It was like a dam bursting and I sat on her bed and sobbed and sobbed. I felt really stupid, crying there over nothing but I guess the hormones I was taking each day had more than a little to do with my emotions.

“Let’s have those panties too” she commanded. “They look as wet as if you’d peed yourself. You haven’t, have you?”

I couldn’t manage a reply.

“Just kidding! For heaven’s sake, cheer up. It’s only water!”

The woman reached up under the robe and next thing I was aware of was that my panties were sliding down my legs. Once she had removed them, my hostess departed with my wet clothing. In the meantime the threat of exposure had shocked me out of my lethargy. There didn’t seem anything much I could do but I wrapped the robe tighter around me, wiped my tearstained face on my sleeve and pulled myself together. I could hear the sound of running water and before long Pete called me through into the bathroom. A steaming bathtub of foam confronted me.

“You’re to have a good long soak. Now in you get!”

I was turned around and the robe swiftly removed from my shoulders. To hide my nakedness I stepped hastily into the tub and plunged myself under the foam, hoping that by keeping my back turned and my hands over my groin nothing had been revealed. I caught the slyest of knowing grins from my hostess as she left me to my ablutions. Had she seen? There was no way of knowing without asking, and that was out of the question. I decided that while that point was in doubt I had better play along with her. All I could do in the meantime was try to soothe away my cares in the scented warm water.

It was nice just to immerse myself and be still. I started to unwind, but before too long I heard Pete’s heavy tread approaching and next minute she was with me again. She perched herself precariously on the side of the path and regarded me thoughtfully.

“Feeling nice and relaxed?”

“Thanks. Yes, I feel so much better…” I began. I might have added that I would have done better still if I wasn’t being subjected to her appraising stare right then. Despite my being hidden from the neck downwards beneath the bubbles, her scrutiny was intensely embarrassing.

“Good. That’s good. A kid like you needs to take good care of… herself.”

Why the hesitation?

She handed me a large towel saying “Now you need something to put on. There’s nothing I have that would fit that slender little body of yours apart from that bathrobe, darling.” She paused and corrected herself. “No. I’m wrong. Fifi may have left something here.”

“Fifi?” Was that a cat, a dog or what?

“Fiona. She was more your size. Fabulous figure. She left me about a month ago. We had a huge row and that was it.” She left the room remarking over her shoulder “Imagine. She thought I was too controlling!”

Actually, I could!

I took advantage of my temporary solitude to step out of the tub and begin to dry myself. I heard her rummaging in some drawers for a minute then “Eureka!” she cried triumphantly. Hastily I wrapped myself in the robe as she re-entered. She was carrying a tiny bra in a bright shade of red. It was accompanied by a matching pair of panties.

“That’s all I’m afraid. These were supposed to be a fun present from me but she never wore them. Too small, I guess. I’ll leave you to try them.”

I could see at a glance that both items were skimpy in the extreme. They were like something a burlesque performer might wear. The bathroom door was ajar which left me wondering uneasily whether I was being watched but I removed the robe and hurriedly stepped into the briefs. Once I was covered down below I slipped into the bra in a more leisurely manner. It had the weirdest arrangement of straps that had me baffled at first, but I figured them out in the end. Embarrassingly, my boobs spilled out everywhere. I then took some time to achieve the best tuck I could without the benefit of my roll of tape.

When I’d done, a check in the mirror told me that I was almost decent, even if I did resemble some sort of half-dressed show girl. I hoped that when wearing the robe in addition to the lingerie, I would maintain some semblance of modesty, and secrecy.

“My, my! Are you something else, honey? You sure you’re only sixteen?” Pete had entered the room unannounced.

As nonchalantly as I could I put on the robe, wrapped it tightly around me and tied the belt. I took a deep breath. “I should be going. I reckon my dress will be okay now.”

My interlocutor smiled and shook her head. “Not yet, I’m afraid. Your clothes were all so muddy that I rinsed them out. It would have been a shame to leave them all stained. They’re hanging up to drip dry.”

I started to panic. “I have to go to work tomorrow. I need to get home.”

Pete smiled encouragingly. “It’s plain to see you’re overwrought. Now just sit quietly for a moment.”

She held out a glass to me. “Here, have some hot milk. I find it really soothes me when I’m upset, especially if I take a couple of these. They’re just a mild sedative but they help enormously.” She dropped two pills into the glass.

“But… You must have something I might borrow” I protested.

She made no answer but held out the drink to me.

As if mesmerised I took it from her hand.

She stood over me, hands on hips, until I had finished it and then shook her head again. “No, there’s nothing to be done just yet. Relax.”

She made me lie back on the bed against a pillow and arranged another under my head, then sat herself beside me. It was stuffy in the room and the fluffy robe was warm against my skin. It was hard to focus.

“Close your eyes now.” She spoke softly then began to gently stroke my brow and temples. I started to feel more and more tranquil. It would be so easy to sleep. Something still bothered me, however.

“How come you’re called Pete?” I murmured drowsily.

“Oh that? It’s short for Petronella. Some mouthful! My mom must have wanted to me to be different to your average female in calling me that. I guess she got her wish.”

“Yes” she mused. “Wouldn’t she be surprised though?”

I hardly heard her words. After that I remembered no more.

Diva Dismayed: Chapter 19 – In the swim

When I awoke it was late evening. I could see that the sky was dark outside. I sat up on the bed to see my hostess across the room. She had a jacket on and was about to exit by the apartment door.

“You’re awake, sleepy. Sorry I disturbed you. How do you feel now?”

“Okay, I guess.”

“Well, stay right there. I’m just about to put the car in the basement garage. I’ll be back directly, then we can get to know each other better.” The commanding tone plainly expected no refusal and I recognised that if I was not to become subservient to her every whim I would have to make a stand.

“No! Sorry, but no. Thanks for everything but I really have got to go.” My decisiveness surprised me, but my head had cleared and I could think again. “Would you drive me home, please? It isn’t very far.”

She came and sat on the bed beside me. She rested her hand gently on my thigh and began to stroke it.

“Well, sure I can. But your clothes are still wet. I figured you would stay the night. We’d iron your dress in the morning and I’d give you a ride to work.”

The hand caressed my thigh more insistently.

“You’re so kind, but if I can borrow this robe that will suffice for me to get home. I’ll call back for my dress in a day or so and return it then.”

She sighed resignedly. Thankfully it appeared I might carry my point.

“As long as it’s sooner than later. You realise you’re condemning me to a lonely night, don’t you? I think we’re good together. Another time we’ll make a date of it.” Her hand squeezed my thigh unnervingly close to my crotch. “Let me tell you, I can be a lot more persuasive than that Della ever could be!”

I didn’t doubt it!

Her assumption that my neighbour and I were an item was of course erroneous and laughably so, but I was far from seeing the funny side of things just then. I hid my mirth and stood up to disengage myself. In resignation Pete gave a rueful smile and sighed again. It was a relief to have shaken off the spell of this dominant woman. An even more profound one was that she seemed to regard me as female. Though I couldn’t be absolutely sure, I surmised that she couldn’t have noticed anything, after all.

It was just after 10pm when I got out of her car with my bundle of damp clothing and waved my benefactress goodbye. I resolved that when I went back to return my borrowed apparel I would take my best friend with me. That is, if she was willing to come. I couldn’t feel sure about Rachel right then. What had gone wrong?

As I walked towards the door of the building, I could see a group of three nurses in the lobby. They had entered before me and were on the point of getting in the elevator. When the last one glanced my way I was so thankful that it was the person I’d just been thinking about. Rachel must have recognised me in the same instant because she waved the elevator away and waited for me to come in the door.

“Jennifer!” she cried. “What are you doing our so late?” and then in a shocked tone, “and what on earth are you wearing?”

My friend stood back to eye my bare legs in consternation. “I hope you have got something on under that bathrobe!”

Thinking how skimpily I was clad under it I blushed to the roots of my hair.

My friend evidently perceived my guilty appearance. “What have you been up to? No, wait! Tell me in a moment.”

Rachel took my hand and urgently led me up the stairs to my room. Once we were safely inside she sat opposite me and encompassed her curiosity and concern with a single syllable. “Well?”

The next ten minutes were taken up with my description of my experiences earlier that evening. My friend listened to my rather breathless account with obvious dismay. After I had described where I’d fallen asleep on the woman’s bed she could contain her feelings no longer.

“How could this Petro… whatever she calls herself, take advantage of you like that?” she cried. “She knows how young you are. And don’t you ever learn? How could you let yourself be taken in so easily?”

I was gratified that she was displaying such a lively anxiety for my wellbeing but felt a little piqued by the injustice of her surmise. “I only let her think she was in charge. That was because I was worried she might have suspected something about… you know.”

Trying hard not to sound smug I went on to explain that I’d extricated myself from my compromising predicament.

At the end of my tale I had the pleasure of seeing Rachel look cautiously impressed.
“Okay. I have to allow that you did all right. I guess,” she admitted reluctantly “that you may have escaped without being discovered. Don’t count on it though. But I’ll tell you one thing for sure.”

She had my full attention.

“When you return that bathrobe to her, you are not to go on your own. I’m coming with you!”

Those words were music to me ears. Her resolution was what I’d been hoping for and now I wouldn’t even have to ask her! My delight was short-lived however.

“You know Jennifer, if you’re going to wear flashy red panties as small as those, you might want to pull your robe across. You can’t miss them from over here!”

I swiftly rectified my lapse of modesty but the remark signalled the end of our conversation.

With a yawn and a curt “I’m going to bed, and it’s time you were too” my friend left me underlining the coolness that had developed between us. I decided there and then that I really would have to say something to put things right.

The following evening I plucked up courage. “Rachel! There’s something bothering me that I’ve been trying to tell you all week.”

“Have you?”

“It’s about Harvey.”

“Oh, really.”

My friend was busying herself at the other end of the room and didn’t stop what she was doing. She didn’t seem to want to get involved in my concerns or at least in this one. It was plain that I needed to do something to get her undivided attention. I put down what I was doing and walked across to her. Taking both her hands, I looked her full in the face and waited.

“Okay!” She was smiling brightly but her eyes looked suspiciously moist. “I’m all ears!”

“After what you’d said, I decided I wouldn’t see him again… at least in that way.”

I had the impression that she was trying her best not to look pleased. My heart skipped a beat. That meant… I needed to finish imparting my confidence however.

“I’m not ready to tell him that I’m really a boy underneath for one thing. Every time I imagine doing so… the outcome is all wrong. It isn’t that important but we’ll just have to be friends, that’s all.”

I wanted to add “He doesn’t mean the same to me as you do.” but I was strangely tongue-tied and the words wouldn’t come out.

After this revelation I was hoping that she might be more like herself. Her manner remained reserved, however. “In my view, you’ve made a wise decision.”

I wasn’t getting very much help from her.

“There’s more. The other day he asked me to go with him to a party. It’s on Sunday, a pool party at a cousin’s house, no less.”

“Oh well. I guess it was bound to happen, sooner or later. And how did you respond?”

“Well I fully intended to refuse, but he looked sort of appealing when he asked me, so… and this is the stupid part. I just said, yes. How dumb was that? Now unless I go, I’ll have to say I’ve changed my mind. But that will be so awkward. Oh, Rachel! What am I to do?”

My friend seemed to be trying to hide a smile.

“Please!”

In the end she gave up the attempt and her shoulders shook with laughter. “Jennifer, you’re not safe! I really don’t think you ought to be allowed out without a governess, or perhaps a nanny. Oh, Jennifer!”

I looked pleadingly at my confidante until she relented and contained her mirth. “Don’t be so anxious, dearest.”

That was nice! My idol hadn’t called me that before. I tried not to show I’d noticed.

“All is not lost” she exclaimed gaily. “You shall go to the ball, Cinders, and keep Prince Charming’s friendship to boot.”

I giggled in spite of myself. “But how?”

“Simple. All you have to say is that on reflection you won’t be happy to go unless I come along as well. Just imagine how a young girl would feel, going on her own to a party at a stranger’s pool and not knowing anybody. She would have to have much more aplomb than you could be expected to show. As it happens I’m available that day. I’ll go with you and play gooseberry, and Harvey… will have to lump it. He’ll be getting two gorgeous companions for the price of one so he shouldn’t mind too much. Anyway he wouldn’t dare say so if he does.” Rachel looked triumphant. “I believe I scare him, you know!”

She had solved my problem pretty neatly and seemed so childishly pleased with herself that I couldn’t resist giving her a squeeze. She responded in kind and it sort of lingered. For a moment I thought we might kiss. We didn’t, but nevertheless I felt a surge of contentment. Perhaps whatever had come between us had been dealt with

My friend’s turn of mind was evidently more practical than mine, however, as her next remark revealed. “Now our real problems start. We have to decide what to wear, and for a pool party that will be doubly demanding!” I knew what she meant. There would be two clothing choices that each of us would have to make, one for wearing in the pool and the other for out of it.

“And, isn’t there something that you should be busy with? You had better go and see to it!”

Rachel was right. There was a pressing matter that required my attention. Studying! My course started the following week and I had a pile of reading I’d set myself to do to get me off to a flying start. I hadn’t got very far up to now and I knew I really had to make amends. On the plus side the discipline itself was no chore. I could relate what I was reading to my experiences in the salon so it all made sense. There was such a lot of it to digest, however. I had to keep reminding myself “one spoonful at a time!”

The next evening we set about making preparations for the party. That afternoon I’d found an opportunity to tell Harvey that I wanted Rachel to come as well. To my relief he seemed perfectly happy to include her. One subject for curiosity dominated my thoughts.

“Rachel. What’s a pool party like?”

“Well, there will be food and drink and music like every other party, but around a pool.”

“Is that all?”

“Let me finish. Though not everyone will want to go in the water, most will, especially the younger ones. We used to have pool parties all the time back home, so I expect they’ll have organised some games too. It ought to be fun!”

“Games?”

“Yes, games. Like water volley ball or chase the balloons. We used to play some good ones at our parties. My favourite was one called invisible bottles. So funny!” Rachel’s eyes were filled with mischief as she reminisced. I’d never seen her look more captivating. Spellbound, I sat and watched her chatter happily.

“Now to business” began my companion. “I’ve a new swimsuit I bought from a catalogue and I’m just dying to wear it. Wait till you see it!”

My own options for the pool were limited… to zero. I had no bathing costume among my clothing at all. Once again my provider came to the rescue without hesitation.

“For your suit you’ll need something that is quite concealing down below. I believe you usually secure your tuck with surgical tape, right?” She dealt with the embarrassing subject in a completely matter of fact way. “Well clearly that isn’t going to stay in place when you’re in the water. Fortunately I have just the costume for you. It’s ruched and stretchy and the bottom part has almost a skirt to it. So it ought to keep everything in place and well-hidden.”

Seeing my look of anxiety she put in quickly, “Don’t worry. It’s really pretty. You’ll look absolutely stunning.”

That wasn’t what I was concerned about, but I let it pass. “No it sounds wonderful. I’m grateful, honestly. What would I do without you?”

She smiled archly as I took the proffered garment from her. “What indeed?”

“I’d be completely lost.” I was on my way to the bedroom and said it so quietly that I wasn’t sure whether she’d heard, but I hoped she had.

Once alone, I was able to allay my fears. I wanted to be sure that the stretchiness and coverage of the fabric would suffice for my ‘needs’ so removed the aforementioned tapes and tried it on. I soon saw that I needn’t have worried. A critical glance in the mirror revealed that everything was concealed just fine and would stay that way. More worryingly, the image was much more eye-catching than I was aiming for. My intention was definitely not to look irresistible. I’d be happy just to look nice.

When I returned and posed rather self-consciously before Rachel, she gave a cry of approval.

That confirmed my surmise: I looked hot. Too hot! For reassurance I had to remind myself that, after all, I would be in company with my glamorous friend and I had no doubts that, whatever she wore, she would sizzle!

Sure enough when Rachel tried on her swimming costume for me the sight was heart-stopping. The garment was cut to reveal plenty and the overall effect was sensational.

“Wow!” was all I could say.

“Do you like it?”

“Like it? You will stop traffic in that!”

She still looked unsure so I tried to provide a more thoughtful critique.

“You have the most wonderful figure and this costume really shows it off. Also those colours really suit your hair and complexion. You look amazing!”

My friend didn’t share my degree of confidence. “You don’t think it’s too revealing?”

I had to admit that the neckline was a little low. “Well your boobs will definitely get some second looks but that’s only to be expected. In any case, they’re out of this world!”

“I didn’t mean that. I happy with my bust. I think it’s one of my good points so I don’t mind showing it off a little.”

A little!

“Well then?” I perched on the bed while she rotated in front of me.

“It’s the lack of coverage down below. It’s really skimpy. I seem to be all butt and thighs.”

I shook my head. “You’re so shapely, Rachel. You look stunning!”

“What about down here?”

I’d been trying not to pay attention to the area between the top of her legs though it was directly in front of my eyes. The high-cut suit barely concealed her crotch and I mean barely! It was difficult to keep from staring.

“I even had to shave before I could dare to try it on. It’s too much, isn’t it?”

Actually it was too little! A solution sprang immediately to my mind, however. “When you are in the water there won’t be a problem. When you’re not you could wear a scarf or something similar around your hips. Then you will be able to relax. Have you anything that would match?”

She looked at me thoughtfully for a moment before her face lit up. “That might work. I’ll get a piece of chiffon and tie it around me as a cover-up. Clever of you to think of it! That’s one thing settled. Now we’ve only to decide what to wear to make our entrance!”

Determining those choices would have to keep for the following day, however. It was nearly time for bed. Besides I was in no mood for making wardrobe decisions after spending the last hour in intimate company with my idol and having been required to pay particular and minute attention to her glorious body. My own body seemed to be tingling all over. I looked up to see Rachel regarding me thoughtfully. Our glances locked as our eyes met. We seemed to have the same thing on our minds…

It was not to be however.

“I have some ironing to do before bed, and for you… study!” So spoke the voice of doom! I had no choice but do as she said.

Diva Dismayed: Chapter 20 – Taking the plunge

By the time Sunday came around the prospective party completely filled my thoughts. Choosing what to wear had been easy enough. Knowing that for part of the time I would be wearing only a swimsuit, for the rest of the afternoon I selected a dress that was neither too short nor too revealing up top. It was a pretty pink number with a lace collar and I thought it suited my purpose just fine. Very demure! I was more anxious about who I might meet and what I would be asked to do.

When I was ready I mounted the stairs to call for Rachel and was amused to find she had evidently had similar thoughts to mine over her choice of attire. Her selection proved to be something just as modest. From outward appearances we could have been headed for a bible meeting instead of a party.

“Great minds think alike!” I quipped and my friend joined in my laughter.

“Do we need to bring our own towels?” was my next concern.

“I would say not. As the hosts at our parties we always provided plenty of towels, not to mention a hair drier, somewhere to change, sun lotion and even goggles, though not many folk bothered with them.”

The practicalities seemed to be well taken care of so all I had to do was relax and enjoy myself. That was easier said than done given the novelty of everything. I reminded myself that the best way to dispel these sort of nerves was to ensure my friends were having a good time. It seemed to help.

The party was a social success from my point of view. Harvey’s friend Mark turned out to be a geekier version of Harvey. He proved to be quite harmless. I found him easy to chat to, as was his girlfriend. Also I recognised some of the girls I’d met at the nurses’ dance. It felt like I was with friends, and I was happy to be making some new ones. I hit it off with Mark’s younger brother, Jamie. He and I were about the same age and he kept finding ways of teasing me. It might almost have looked as if we were flirting. I wasn’t, of course. Well, perhaps just a little bit. Okay, I was shamelessly giving back as good as I got! I found it such fun! As for Harvey, while there was plenty was plenty of interaction between him and myself, nothing occurred which might have marked us out as a couple and I took care to include my friend as much as possible.

Rachel and I stayed quite late before leaving. The best outcome for me was that by the time we came away she and I seemed to be back on our previous footing. The intimacy between us had been re-established to my intense relief.

Over next few days I saw nothing of my friend as she had been asked to work additional shifts at the hospital. It was not until the following Wednesday evening that we had the chance of a heart to heart. My college semester would begin the next day and my head was full of the necessary preparations I needed to get on with. I’d been occupied so for some time when my friend opened a different topic.

“You ought to think about returning that bathrobe and lingerie soon” she advised. “It would seem ungrateful to delay much longer.”

The need to return my borrowed items of clothing to Pete before too much time had elapsed had been preying upon my thoughts also. I guess my concern stemmed from the way that the avoidance of being impolite had been drilled into me from an early age.

“I know” I responded. “That’s why I went there on my way home from work yesterday.”

The look of horror on Rachel’s face was almost comical. “You went on your own? And… did anything happen?”

“Well, yes. But it turned out okay… sort of.”

“Sort of?!”

“Yes, I think so. I got off the bus a few stops early and you would have been pleased with my thoughtfulness. I remembered to buy Pete a spray of flowers to say thank-you.” All that day I’d been wondering how Rachel would take the disclosure of my visit. Now we’d broached the subject I felt a lot better. I paused for breath.

“Go on. Tell me what happened.”

“Well, I was feeling a bit nervous when I rang the bell of her apartment. That’s quite a swell part of town and also I wasn’t sure whether I was doing the right thing or not, by visiting without you, I mean. I’d made the decision that I wouldn’t go in even if invited, since you thought I should be cautious.”

“I guess that was something” my friend remarked drily. “And did you, go in?”

Somewhat shamefacedly I had to admit that I had. While my friend shook her head disbelievingly I explained that I’d had no choice, really.

It had happened like this.

When she opened the door, Pete had her head wrapped in a towel, like a turban. She’d clearly just washed her hair and had another larger towel wrapped around her torso. She beckoned me inside and then disappeared into the bathroom. I called out to her that I had brought back her bathrobe and things and I was tempted just to leave them on the table and go, but to do that seemed awfully off-hand. I wanted to say thank-you properly and give her the flowers personally so I hung around and waited, feeling quite awkward.

After a few minutes of this I was about ready to give up and go when she shouted that I should make myself useful and make us both a coffee. I wasn’t doing anything else so I shrugged my shoulders and headed for the kitchen. I was glad to be doing something familiar. While I was busy in there, I was aware that my benefactor had emerged from the bathroom, still wrapped in her towel. She called through to me asking if the flowers were for her, though it was obvious that they must be! By the time the coffee was ready and I’d brought it in she was fully dressed. She looked really different. She was wearing smart pants and they were teamed with a filmy evening top. She had on some jewellery and strappy heels. I was surprised how feminine she looked, so unlike before. She was even wearing perfume.

She must have noticed me staring because she laughed to my face and said “I do have a soft side you know. You bring it out in me.”

The remark startled me but not as much as the hug that followed it. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. When she released me I was ready to run, so instead of sitting as she bade me I perched uncomfortably on the arm of a sofa.

“Sweet Pete, you can call me. Don’t look so scared” she laughed. “I don’t bite! Unless you like that kind of thing!”

I smiled awkwardly.

“Do you approve of my top?” she asked almost bashfully. “It’s quite sexy, don’t you think? I put it on especially for you.” Her approach was unsettlingly direct.

I didn’t know how to respond but nodded and managed to blurt out “Yes, it looks great on you.” It did. I was finding her surprisingly attractive. That and her directness was beginning to have an effect on me. To my embarrassment I was getting turned on.

“There’s no point in beating about the bush” she declared. “I like you. In fact I can’t stop thinking about you and I can tell that you like me. We ought to be an item. You’ll find that I can please you in lots of ways, even with your er… special needs, shall we say?”

Involuntarily, I gave a start. What did she mean?

“Oh, yes! I know your little secret.” She laughed. “I had my suspicions from the first, so when you were getting dressed last time you were here, I took a little peek, but it’s okay. You can trust me to keep quiet about it.”

That was something to be thankful for at least.

She took my hands in hers and spoke quite tenderly. “Don’t you see? I’m your ideal partner. We get on amazingly well and as for in the bedroom, I get off on making my lover happy if you know what I mean, boy or girl, and, let me tell you now, I’m very good at it. I don’t like to be touched myself. That’s not me.”

Somehow I didn’t doubt her claim. But this was all happening much too fast for me to take in.

“I know I’m rushing you but I may not get another chance. So! How about it?”

This was getting completely out of control. I had to somehow check the flood before I was overwhelmed by it. “I have to say no. It’s not that I don’t like you. It’s just… there’s someone else.”

Pete was dismissive. “Well if it’s Della, then that will never work. She’s different again, as I’m sure you’ve found already. She’ll never be able to meet your needs. No, forget her. What do you say?”

“It isn’t Della. It’s somebody else.”

She looked her disbelief, but I nodded to confirm my words. “I’m sorry. There’s only one person in the world I want to be with.” My words surprised me but their truth carried conviction.

My would-be seductress looked so crestfallen, that I was almost tempted to relent. I resisted a fleeting impulse to hug and comfort her.

“If you ever change your mind, you know where I am.”

I steeled myself to take leave.

While I gave my account of all this to Rachel, she sat perfectly still. There was a lot to tell so I’d tried to summarise what had occurred, skating over some of the detail, but I’d made sure that she got the gist of everything of any significance.

She had one pressing query to make. “Who was the ‘somebody else’? Harvey? Jamie? Or did you make that up?”

“No, that part was perfectly true. There’s only ever been one person for me, and I think there always will be.”

I hesitated.

She coloured deeply as the consciousness of what my words might mean sank in. I could bear the suspense no longer and, risking everything, knew I would have to take the plunge.

“Well?”

Diva Dismayed: Chapter 21 – Walking the walk

The next day marked a momentous step for me, my first day at college. It was only a ten-minute walk there from my apartment block but I set off good and early. The weather was still mild at that time of year, and I chose to wear a dainty little skirt I’d bought recently as it seemed a practical choice. It went nicely with a short sleeve jumper and completed my student look, or so I reckoned. Most of my dresses were too girly for that purpose. The skirt’s hemline was a little higher than I’d been used to wearing, but I was counting on wearing an up-to-date style to help me blend in. In those days the miniskirt was still below the horizon but the fashions were headed in a similar direction.

The nerves I’d been experiencing over beginning this new adventure had completely subsided and I felt calm and confident. Everything was going to be okay, and if not, well, that wouldn’t be such a big deal.

As I approached the campus, a number of other students were converging on the building where registration was to take place. I guessed that they must be freshmen also. There was one girl among them that I thought I’d seen somewhere before. When recognition finally clicked I placed her as a redheaded teen who had recently moved into our block. Her room was actually on the same floor as mine. She was looking a little lost so when our eyes met, I smiled at her encouragingly. I knew just how she might be feeling.

Catching my smile, she looked at me more intently and came over. “You look kinda familiar. Do we know each other?”

“Sort of. Your room is just down the hallway from me in the nurses’ block. I guess we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other.”

“So, that’s how I recognised you. Glad to meet you. My name’s Alice. I’m just about to enrol. I guess you are too.”

I nodded. “What are you studying?”

“Oh. I’m joining the Skin Therapy course.”

“Small world! So am I! Nice to know you, Alice. I’m Jennifer.”

I held out my hand. The girl grabbed it and shook it enthusiastically. “Hi, Jennifer. Oh, this is great. My first day and I’ve made a friend already. Where are you from, Jennifer?”

I mentioned the town I grew up in and it turned out that she was from a neighbouring one in the same state. Small world again!
I clarified, “To be strictly accurate, this place has been my home for the last three months. That was one of the reasons I was able to get onto this course as technically I’m under-age. I had to get a waiver signed. My work experience helped, thankfully. I’ve been working in a beauty salon for some time now.”

Alice’s eyes widened in disbelief. “I would never have guessed you weren’t as old as me. I’d have said you were at least eighteen. You seem so confident for one thing.”

I merely shrugged in response. Admittedly I’d been feeling more than usually relaxed that morning, with a sense of calmness that I didn’t always experience. Living on the edge seemed more to be my normal condition. I could account for the difference in my mood today very easily. The previous evening I’d finally revealed to Rachel who my ‘someone else’ was, the one and only person I needed to be in my life. She caught her breath when I finally said “It’s you. It’s always been you”.

I waited for her reaction anxiously, but she didn’t keep me in suspense for very long. With a look of relief and happiness on her face she told me that she felt the same way about me, adding “I can see you will always need someone to take care of you and I couldn’t bear it if it wasn’t me.”
Was she joking? I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

“I’m serious!”

How could she feel that way? I mean, I was so green and inexperienced. More crucially, I couldn’t think of myself as a man and could see no prospect of becoming one. How could someone like me ever be enough for someone who was as much a woman as she? I put on a smile, but my doubts must have shown in my face. She could see I was having trouble believing her.

“I know what you are thinking. I don’t care that you aren’t in the least a typical male. I’ve tried some of those, thank you very much. You are what I want.”

In the end Rachel made the communication non-verbal. She led me into the bedroom and closed the door behind us.

We spent the night together and when she finally returned to her own room, it wasn’t long before dawn. A sublime sense of peace remained, and it stayed with me throughout the entire day. By rights, I should have been bleary-eyed and muzzy-headed that morning from lack of sleep, but the few hours I’d had were all I needed. My mind was clear and my heart sang. Rachel and I were together! That was the only thing that mattered.

Back to my first day on campus, once registration was complete, I inquired of the clerk how many students were enrolled in our class. While she counted the list of names I managed to scan the paper, despite it being upside down, and could see only two male ones, a Howard and a Wayne. I wasn’t the only ‘boy’ then. I wasn’t sure whether that would be a good thing or otherwise. In such a small group all the students would no doubt soon become familiar to me. Hopefully my fellow students might soon be new friends.

Next Alice wanted to explore the site, and it was only natural for me to take the lead and show her around. I had acquainted myself with the general layout beforehand and the older girl made no objection. Once we had done the rounds of the buildings I led the way to the cafeteria, where we could sit and chat over a coke. It was nice that we seemed to have hit it off and here was an opportunity to get to know the girl better. I soon discovered that this was someone who was at least as naïve as myself. Alice’s upbringing had been very sheltered. She was fresh out of a convent school, and I was amused to find that my education had far surpassed hers in one regard. Yes, you guessed! I had to suppress a smile at the degree of interest she expressed concerning that most fascinating topic. Boys!

Fascinating to her I mean. I was quite blasé about the subject, and doubly so after the events of the previous night. I have to admit that there was still one kind of interaction that I didn’t intend to relinquish. I’d long-since regarded the pleasures of flirting to be a great compensation for the weird lifestyle which had been forced on me, and I didn’t want to give that up just yet. A little harmless flirtation could be such fun, even if sometimes it had turned out not quite as innocent as I bargained for!

Alice was very curious on the subject of the male sex and wasn’t satisfied until she knew who my current boyfriend was (nobody right now, of course), who my first boyfriend had been (Dennis, briefly, an amorous cross-dresser who turned out to be gay), and the latest one (Artie, an ex of Rachel’s and an older guy, his contribution to my ‘education’ had been significant). It was as well that I wasn’t required to explain any of my relationships with women to this insatiably curious new acquaintance. The ins and outs of those would have been far too complicated for understanding, or even belief!

She further wanted to learn whether I knew of any eligible males who were available. While Harvey’s name immediately sprang to mind, I was reluctant to surrender a potential conquest to this over-eager enquirer. It somehow went against the grain to start playing matchmaker for her. He was a friend after all, and who knew whether she might prove to be suitable or not. I’d hardly known Alice for five minutes. I had no thoughts of reserving him for myself, naturally. No, none at all!

After we’d finished our drink, I suggested that we retrace our steps to the library building where my new friend might hope to find copies of at least some of the prescribed textbooks for our studies before the rush of other would-be borrowers got to them. I already had the complete set and could advise which were the most essential. We accordingly made our way there and when I pointed out the bookshelves in question Alice leapt forward and scanned them eagerly. Seeing a book that she needed she gave a cry of delight and pounced.

Unfortunately for her the volume required was on one of the bottom shelves and in my companion’s haste she apparently forgot about the brevity of her skirt. This was near enough the same fashionable length as mine, and when she reached down for the book everything underneath became visible, and I mean everything.

“Alice” I hissed. “Don’t bend over like that.”
Surely a girl of her years must have had to exercise the basic skills of remaining decent before now. Under my mother’s tuition it had become second nature to me to accomplish manoeuvres ranging from negotiating stairs to getting out of a car, each with ladylike decorum.

Alice seemed not to have heard me, so in haste I moved over to stand behind her and shield her unmentionables from view. I checked around the room and though a couple of youths were standing not too far off, thankfully her compromising posture appeared to have escaped notice. Normally the vision I was being treated to would have given rise to some stirrings in my own nether regions, but after the night of passion we’d spent together all I could think of in that regard was Rachel.

When the girl straightened up, she was all innocence. “What’s the matter?”

“You’re showing your panties!” I whispered.

My new friend displayed no noticeable alarm but, glancing over at the boys, delicately tugged at her skirt to straighten it. “Well! They’re clean!” she laughed. “Actually, they’re my newest pair. What do you think of them?”

I nearly choked! “They’re very nice, but you needn’t let everybody see.”

“Oh, I don’t know. We all have to make the most of what we’ve got.” Pointing to my prominent chest she added, “After all you’re not exactly hiding your endowments, and only sixteen too! I wish I had as much to show.”

Had she been guilty of flashing deliberately, I wondered? I wasn’t the only one who enjoyed flirting, it seemed! I wondered how this new friend was to be kept on the straight and narrow. My new friend might prove to be handful over the coming weeks!

When the day of the fashion show came round, I could breathe a sigh of relief that the time of preparation was over. Now that my student life had begun, I was more than ready to get past all the glamour the event might offer just to free up some time. My studies and my everyday work in the beauty salon together were quite enough for me. Entry to such an exclusive evening was by ticket only and these were expensive. I desperately wanted Rachel to be part of this new experience in my life, but I feared that her slender purse might be stretched to breaking point if I pressed her to come. I knew she wouldn’t be happy for me to buy a ticket for her, even though, I was likely to be the better off of the two of us with all the extra hours I’d been putting in at work. Fortunately, my employer made a request which provided a rescue.

Mrs Millward drew me aside after a rehearsal. “Jennifer dear, I’m afraid that we still don’t have enough help to make our event run smoothly. I’ve already asked the others. Do you have a friend who would be prepared to help you in the changing room? Clearly it would need to be someone who would fit in and knows you very well.”

I beamed with pleasure and relief. Here was a way out of my difficulty.
“Actually, I do! You have already met Rachel. I’m sure I could persuade her to help if she’s free. She is a nurse by profession, so hopefully the others wouldn’t mind having a stranger in our midst, a stranger to them I mean.”

When I reached home, I couldn’t wait to make the request. My worry was that Rachel might be working, but happily, her excited smiles told me I was in luck. Knowing that she would be there to support me made me feel much more confident. I had wondered if my mother might come over but when I telephoned her to tell her about the show, her reaction had been mixed. She had sounded pleased for me but apparently couldn’t be there to see me. She didn’t think she could get away from work. To be truthful I was almost as much relieved as disappointed at the news. Mom’s controlling presence might have complicated things too much and if Rachel were to be there then I didn’t need anybody else.

Before the show itself, each of the models had benefited from the services of the beauty salon. I’d been totally pampered from head to toe. At my request, my hair was arranged in a similar style to the one for my intended wedding. I liked the extra body given by the additional hairpiece and both Mrs Millward and Rosa agreed with me. They had determined that as the youngest, I should be the first to take to the runway. Their aim was to emphasise that there was a youthful aspect to the collection on display.

A very elaborate pink outfit and matching accessories had been chosen for me to open the show. The dress was very pretty and had a huge bouffant skirt. Seeing myself in the mirror put me in mind of a character from Disney, though I wasn’t sure which.

“I can’t decide whether you are supposed to be Rapunzel or Sleeping Beauty” laughed Rachel as she applied the finishing touches to my attire. Great minds think alike, clearly!

Mrs Millward made the opening announcement then the music started. Trying to remember all the coaching I’d been given, I stepped out confidently. All eyes were on me. As I promenaded down the walk, the stiffened skirt of my gown bounced provocatively with my every movement. I might have been disconcerted by this, but our employer had procured sheer pantyhose from a theatrical supplier for us to wear. The knowledge that I’d be showing no more than I would in a swimsuit dispelled any anxieties on that score. The room was packed and the customary applause greeted me as I strutted and twirled. I was congratulating myself on making an excellent start to the proceedings when among the blur of faces surrounding the catwalk, I glimpsed one which set my mind racing.

Back in the dressing room I was still trying to recall where I’d seen it before.

“What’s the matter? You look as if you’d seen a ghost.” Even though she was fully occupied in helping me change Rachel had time to notice my unsettled demeanour.

“No, not a ghost” I exclaimed. “It was that man, the one who I thought was stalking me the day after I first came here. What did he call himself? Walter! Yes, it was Walt!”

What was he doing here?

Diva Dismayed: Chapter 22 – Après show

The others’ opening outfits were just as well received as mine had been and in the dressing room everyone was full of smiles at the reception we were getting. I soon recovered from the shock of seeing that unexpected leering face. After the first items had been paraded, the pace became fast and furious as we tried to keep up with the lightning programme of changes that had been scheduled. Any thoughts of modesty went completely out of the window. I was very relieved that neither swimwear nor lingerie were included in the ranges on display so that I was not required to strip completely. That way, what was below my waist might always remain hidden from my assistants. In any case with my dearest friend taking charge of me I had no real cause for alarm.

Eventually there came a welcome interval for refreshments. We had run through three or four outfits each by that time. After the break the theme changed to evening wear which typically featured full length gowns. In that section, the older girls had more outfits to model than I, and that gave me a much-needed breathing space.

In this part of the display, to provide some variety we went out in pairs enacting an elaborate routine. The choreography went down well with our audience. After we had performed that successfully, the finale featured a return to the first bouffant set of styles, but of a more daring nature. My last dress had a bodice and sleeves of the sheerest gauze imaginable. No bra was possible underneath and the only nod to modesty was provided by two sequinned bands running up from the waist to my neck. I was treated to enthusiastic applause and whistles when I made my entrance, leaving me self-consciously aware how little the frock left to the imagination.

My lack of coverage reminded me of some of the get-ups my mother had manipulated me into wearing years before. Then my figure was less well-formed but now there was much more to hide! It wasn’t just the revealing nature of the top that I found unsettling. The skirt was stiffened so that it stood out almost horizontally, hiding little of my legs. Worse still, it bounced up and down as I walked, try as I might to stop my hips swaying from side to side. I must have resembled a giant mushroom!

I was joined by the other girls to take a final curtsy and, despite descending as gently as I could in doing so, no doubt I treated the onlookers to another flash of my unmentionables as the skirt was borne upwards by the air beneath it, but that was the end of the show.

Phew!

Thankfully we were able to change out of the all too revealing final outfits into our own clothes before the after-show cocktail party. We were ushered into a room off the main hall for this. Every part of the event had gone smoothly, and Mrs Millward made a short speech thanking everyone. Drinks and nibbles were then served. I’d had nothing to eat since breakfast so that now we could draw breath and relax I was really hungry. The refreshment trolley was situated near to where Rachel and I were standing, so I grabbed a plate and demolished its contents in record time, to her intense amusement. After all those salty canapes I found that I now had a terrible thirst so picked up a glass of something at random from a tray.

As I was sipping it, my employer came over to us, doing the rounds of thanking and congratulating each one of us personally. “I’m so pleased at how well you all did. I believe the evening has been a wonderful success. We’ve had some advance orders already.” She pointed to a large man in a tuxedo. “That’s one of our suppliers. He’s delighted and well he should be. The outcome has been far better than anyone could reasonably expect in terms of sales.”

Rachel and I offered our congratulations on her powers of organisation.

Mrs Millward then reminded me of my pre-event nerves. “You see Jennifer, you were worrying over nothing. You can’t deny that you enjoyed yourself out there. Who knows? This might be the start of a whole new career for you.”

I nearly choked in mid-swallow at the terrifying thought. I had to gulp the rest of the liquid down to get over my fit of coughing. Whatever the glass contained, it was instantly soothing. My employer and my friend were soon engrossed in conversation while I listened absently, empty glass in hand.

My reverie was interrupted by a voice behind me. “Allow me, my dear.”

Tuxedo man had come up silently behind me. Without further ado he took my empty glass from me and supplied a full one in its place. “You will find this one more refreshing.”

I was confused by these attentions from a stranger and took it from him instinctively, stammering my thanks.

“Think nothing of it. I have had much experience of meeting the needs of young ladies, especially pretty ones like yourself.” He winked conspiratorially.

He was obviously trifling with me. That seemed comical in someone so much older than myself, but his disarming manner was engaging. I found myself giggling while idly trying not to wonder exactly what he meant.

The opportunity to flirt was too good to be resisted. “How do you what my needs are?” I protested coyly.

“Oh, I have a good idea” he beamed. “Young women always like to be pampered, but if you have any specific demands, please feel free to tell me. I won’t disappoint you!”

“Oh, pamper away!” I hadn’t meant to voice the thought out loud, but I didn’t know what else to say. I finished my second drink and was immediately handed a third. Really, I was out of my depth in conversing with such a sophisticated man. It didn’t help that my head was starting to feel woozy from whatever I was drinking. I didn’t appear to be getting any better at handling alcohol than the last time I had tasted any.

“Don’t worry, I shall! And at every opportunity. Your glass.”

It was still half full, but he was holding out another, so I gulped the contents down and took the fresh one from him. That would be my third, or was it fourth? I realised that I’d lost count, but it didn’t seem to matter.

At this point Rachel turned to regard me inquiringly. The result of her scrutiny was a look of anxiety across her pretty face, so to reassure her I put my head on one side and beamed at her. Dear, kind Rachel! At this, her expression crystallised into one of alarm and when she spoke, her voice contained a note of reproof. “Well Jennifer, you have probably had enough of that. It’s time we were going. Early start tomorrow, remember.”

What early start? I was trying to recall what day tomorrow was when “Oh, it’s Jennifer is it?” my new companion chimed in. “Well, I’m Maurice and at the risk of contradicting your lovely friend, the night is yet young. Let me suggest that you and I move on to a little place that I know. Then we will simply have a ball.”
Seeing the chilling look on Rachel’s face he continued smoothly “Even better, let’s make it a foursome. Allow me to introduce you to a good friend of mine. He’s a whole heap of fun, I can assure you. You will just love him. There is no need for concern about the hour. You will both be in bed in good time.”
“Exactly what I’m afraid of!” My friend’s words were uttered sotto voce, but I could discern them well enough and picked up on her anxiety. I knew I had to pull myself together somehow.

Maurice walked across to the other side of the room and returned with a middle-aged man with thinning hair. With renewed alarm I saw it was none other than my stalker, as I deemed him to be. His suit had seen a lot of wear, and he was carrying a professional looking camera. The penny dropped and I realised he was the official photographer who had been hired to take pictures of the models on the runway.

“Walt, let me introduce Jennifer and…?”

“Miss Bennett.” Rachel’s voice would have chilled an Eskimo.

Our new companion was unfazed by her frosty tone and held out his hand to me. “Say, don’t you know me? You’re the little chick that ran away to church that day.”

It was indeed that Walter!

I tried to mirror my friend’s attitude with what I hoped was a distant smile, but the guy was in no way repelled. He grabbed my hand and shook it vigorously. After the handshake I tried to pull away, but he held on. He was standing awfully close to me too. This was creepy.

“Ah. I can see you are old friends. That calls for more drinks, I think.” Maurice proffered two more glasses to Rachel and myself.

My mentor was equal to the occasion. “You’re very kind, but we do have to run. Come Jennifer. We must go over and take our leave of Mrs Millward before we go.”

“Sorry” I exclaimed in support, probably a little too vigorously in my somewhat tipsy condition. “Really got to go. Past my bedtime, don’t you know?”

Rachel glared at me, took my empty glass and set it down.

“Before you both disappear, may I pose a question?” Maurice was not giving up. “Have either of you two young beauties considered a career as a model? I know that the camera will love either of you, or both.” Turning to me “and you are a natural on the catwalk, my dear.”

“Thanks” interrupted my friend. “You can see that Jennifer isn’t tall enough to be a model and I already have a career.”

“Pity. It’s very true she wouldn’t make a fashion model, although she may grow taller yet. As a photographic model, however, the opportunities are limitless, for someone with such a figure and good bone structure.”

“Too right!” put in the photographer. “You’re just perfect for the camera. That’s what I wanted to tell you that day, before you slipped away. I can get you no end of opportunities and it’s very good money. No funny business either. Strictly legit. Here’s my card. Give me a call any time.”

Somehow Rachel disengaged us both. As we walked to her car, I got the strongest impression that my lover was not best pleased with me. Soon I was left in no doubt. “You really ought to know better than to drink like that. You’re more than a little tight. Fancy accepting alcohol from a complete stranger! One glance at him should have told you that lounge lizard had one thing on his mind!”

At this scolding I felt suitably ashamed of myself. “I don’t know how it happened. It just seemed to happen. I don’t mean to disappoint you.”

“You haven’t disappointed me” she continued in a kinder voice. “Don’t think that. I’m so proud of you for tonight! I can guess that after the adrenalin rush that comes from such an exciting evening, your guard was down. It’s often the way but it’s then that you need to be watchful. Whenever you are out you need to be wary. Just try and learn from this before the next time.”

I looked my alarm. “Next time?”

“It’s bound to happen again. Attractive girls get hit on all the time, and you my darling are more than just attractive, so you must always be prepared. Though the consequences for you might be different, they could be a disaster all the same. Anyway, you did brilliantly tonight. I was so pleased I could be part of your success. A bit envious too, I have to admit. Modelling those wonderful creations must have felt like heaven. What a shame your mom couldn’t be there to see you. At least I was able to take snaps and if they come out, I’ll send some to her.”

During the previous week my studies had started in earnest. The pace of teaching in the lecture rooms proved to be much faster than I’d experienced in high school and there my grades had never been anything to write home about. However, although the amount of information dispensed in the space of an hour’s lecture demanded intense concentration, I reckoned that I was keeping up at least as well as any of my fellow students.

In the intervals between lectures, I found myself reiterating and explaining key points, initially for Alice who was clearly struggling. Then I discovered that most of the others of my fellow students were listening in to my explanations. This developed into a regular q & a session for me after each class.

I can’t claim any credit for being in this position of mentor. I guess that the close relationship between the subject material and my everyday work made most of the former self-explanatory to me. It was quite a novel situation to be in and was completely unexpected and unsought.

The only other student who seemed to be equally on top of things was Howard. He kept himself to himself and remained aloof from our little after-class huddles, and though I was anxious to avoid it, I sensed there was a rivalry developing between us. On the principle that no-one likes a smart-mouth I tried to avoid showing off my knowledge in class. He had no such scruples and I couldn’t help but feel a frisson of pleasure if he happened to give an incorrect answer now and again.

It was natural for Alice and I to walk to the campus together most days when we had lectures. On these walks we had long conversations. She had little reserve and as our friendship developed I became acquainted with even the most intimate details of her life. In return I was expected to supply similar particulars about mine. This was tricky! For instance, there was my so-called period.

My mother’s feminising scheme had left not the smallest corner of my existence unaffected and she had nominated a five-day window of time when my hormone intake would be reduced and I would experience some mild symptoms. For a reason I can’t quite recall, this occurred every fifth week rather than every fourth. I was expected to douche my bottom end during these days and even wear a tampon or sanitary towel. The whole procedure was most humiliating for a teenage boy which was probably the reason my parent insisted on my enduring it. From force of deeply ingrained habit I still went through this rigmarole at the prescribed interval. It was the unusual timing which I now found difficult to account for to my inquisitive friend.

Having established the exact date of my last ‘period’ she stopped in her tracks and gave me an extravagant hug. “Oh Jennifer, this is great! Your period and mine will be on exactly the same week. We must be soulmates!”

I smiled and hugged her back, although I thought that this was pushing the connection between us rather far. Then I twigged that Mom’s unusual timing threw up a difficulty that I would have to straighten out. “Well actually, my period won’t start until the following week. It’s very unusual but that’s always been how often my time comes around.”

“Oh, that’s amazing. I’ve never met anyone with a five-week cycle before. You must be one in a million. It must be so nice not to have to go through all that so often. Lucky you!”

We then had a deep exchange regarding all the ‘ins’ and ‘outs’ of our respective menses. It went into far too much detail but there seemed to be no way of diverting our conversation into a less intimate path.

After these particulars had been laid bare, I felt that I would never see Alice in quite the same light again!

Diva Dismayed: Chapter 23 – Exposure

The official photos of the fashion show were delivered to the salon after a few days and each of us models and the dressers were given sample prints from the evening. I sent some of mine to my mother with the extra pay which I’d earned by taking part. When I called her, she protested against accepting any of it, but I explained that I’d only done the fashion show to help pay off the debt to Madeleine. I was careful to call it our debt. My contribution was then reluctantly accepted. I told her that there would be more to come and ended the call before she had time to object. I’d just formed a plan!

That evening I broached the same subject with Rachel and as I expected, she wasn’t at all happy with my proposed course of action. I intended to take Walt up on his offer of modelling work.

“Well, I’m glad you’ve told me before committing yourself, but do you really think this is wise? You will be putting yourself in a very vulnerable situation. You don’t know these men and can’t guess what they may be capable of. You’re so young. If your mom got to know what you’re intending to do, she would be horrified.”

“Oh, please don’t tell her! Although, actually, when I come to think of it I don’t know how she would be. There have been times in the past when she has put me into the most embarrassing predicaments. However, I guess you’re right and she probably wouldn’t approve. But… I really feel bad over her having to pay Madeleine back for the expense of the wedding. I’ve got to do something more. I promise I’ll be careful, and I’ll make sure you know where I will be and what I’ll be doing all the time. Please say it’s okay!”

“Well… Okay, I guess, though I’m not sure I will always be able to come with you.

“Well. I guess I could ask someone else.” I hazarded.

“No. Of course, I’ll go with you. Anyway, who would you ask? Harvey?” Rachel bridled.

“No. I wasn’t thinking of Harvey. Or anyone?” Who was to take care of me was clearly a sensitive area for my friend. “I want you to be there.”

“That’s okay, then!”

She came over and held me close.

“You know, I won’t dare tell your mother that I had even an inkling that you’re doing this, so if she finds out, I know nothing!”
I knew she was joking, but in reality the truth was too close for comfort.

Glad that my guardian angel was on side, accordingly I made the phone call. I held the receiver so she could hear what was said.

The party on the end of the line answered straightaway. “Hullo. Walt speaking. Who is this?”

Nervously I said who I was and explained that I was interested in doing some photographic modelling as he’d suggested.

He sounded delighted. “Good girl. You’re going to be great. With your looks, I’ll have your name in lights in no time, just you see. What about Thursday evening?”

That wasn’t quite what I needed to hear. I tried to pin Walter down to what exactly would be involved and, almost as importantly, how much money I’d get. I was happy with the answer on the second point. It seemed I could earn nearly as much in one evening as in a week at the salon. He was evasive about the first question, talking about building my portfolio, whatever that meant. Any clear idea about what sort of modelling I would be doing was hard to establish and what I would be expected to wear was left quite vague. However, he conceded that my friend was welcome to accompany me to the sessions and once that had been settled, Rachel and I both felt considerably more at ease.

In these last weeks, I’d seen hardly anything of Harvey. A few days after the fashion show, I bumped into him on the stairs, literally. I was descending from Rachel’s room carrying an armful of books and my schoolbag when I heard someone exiting the bathroom above to return to their apartment. Guessing that it might be Della, and not wanting to be caught in a lengthy conversation just then, I sped down the flight as quietly as I could. I was feeling uncomfortable about avoiding her so glanced over my shoulder to check if she’d seen me. I wanted to avoid being thought unfriendly. At that moment my precipitate descent was arrested by a violent collision with a man’s body, running in the opposite direction. Whoever it was cannot have been looking where he was going either. My bag fell to the floor and my books went everywhere.

“Gosh! Jennifer! Sorry!” exclaimed the cause of my downfall, who turned out to be Harvey himself.

“Oh no, it was my fault” I gasped as I sprawled on the floor with my skirt up somewhere around my hips. The youth goggled while I hastily tried to regain a semblance of modesty.

“No, it was mine” he insisted, belatedly averting his eyes and helping me up. His grip on my arm was firm and protective. Why did he always make me feel like a real girl?

“Let’s go Dutch on the blame for this one” I quipped as I retrieved my belongings. “We neither of us were paying attention if truth be told.”

“Agreed!” Harvey laughed. Then he hesitated. “Er… talking of going Dutch, I’ve been looking for a chance to ask you. When are we going to have another date?”

This was a question I’d been dreading. I felt bad about the idea of hurting Harvey, as I guessed I was about to. I liked him a lot. In the way of a friend, of course. Okay, there might have been a physical attraction in there too somewhere, feelings that I wanted to dismiss as being due to my hormones running riot, but that attraction was one thing I was anxious to keep under wraps.

“Harvey, there’s something I should tell you. You know, I think of you as a really good friend, probably the best male friend I have…”

The guy winced. “But...”

I tried to smile. “But not more than that. I’m sorry.” Now I felt really miserable, when I saw how unconvincing the attempt he made to hide his disappointment was.

“Nothing to be sorry about. We’re good.” It was cheerfully said, and I so wanted to give him a hug for his bravery, but I somehow restrained myself. An embrace would undo all that my previous words had done to keep us on the footing we should be on. To hold myself to my purpose I had to remind myself that I was doing this because of the wondrous relationship I had with Rachel.

“Anyway… I hear that you’re now a fashion model.” His statement caught me off guard. I didn’t realise that he knew?

“That must be quite something. I guess I shouldn’t have expected to be able to date a model.”

“Harvey, that isn’t how it is at all. The modelling thing was just a one off.”

“Oh. Aren’t you about to do some photographic work too. I may have got that wrong, but from what Alice said…”

“Alice?” I had shared my plans with the girl on our walk to college only that morning.

“Yes. Was she wrong?”

“Well, no. I did get asked to do a bit of photo modelling and I thought I might give it a try, but I’m not really a model. I just need to earn some extra cash to help my mom out.”

“Your mom?”

“It’s a long story, and I wouldn’t tell everyone about it but as you’re a… close friend, I’ll tell you, if you would like to know. When you’re free, of course.”

“I’m free right now.”

“Okay, great. Come into my humble dwelling then and I’ll make us a coffee.”

I reasoned that it would be best to get this over with, so led the way into my room. I put down my books and sat the boy down in the easy chair.

While I bustled about, Harvey was looking about him. “Nice and cosy, this little place of yours. Very nice. It feels like a home.”

“Why thank you, kind sir” I laughed. “I like it.” However, he had rather a wistful expression on his face which made me anxious to divert the conversation.

When I was seated opposite him, I began. “Do you remember what I was wearing the day I got here. You saw me in the parking lot when I arrived with Rachel.”

“How could I forget!” he exclaimed. There was more feeling in his voice than I wanted to hear. My dismay must have shown in my face and he apologised. “Sorry, yes. If I didn’t know better, I’d have said it was something like a bridal dress.”

“It was a wedding dress. Back home, I was to have been married that morning. I was under a lot of pressure to wed someone who was much older than me, and whom I was really unsure about and in the end… I took the coward’s way out and ran away.

He sprang to my defence indignantly. “I guess that was the only course left for you to take. You did the right thing!”

Then, “Gosh!” His eyes were wide in disbelief. “You know, Jennifer, I’ve never met anyone who has led such an interesting life as you.”

If he only knew!

I carried on with my tale. “Well, my mother was so embarrassed that she felt she had to offer to pay for the wedding expenses that the person I was to marry had incurred, and they took her up on that offer. The long and short of it is that she’s deeply in debt and it’s partly my fault. This modelling work will help me put things right. Although Mom hasn’t always made things easy for me, she’s still my mom. I can’t turn my back on her completely.”

“Like I said, you are one in a million.” Harvey’s expression was one of open admiration.

I blushed to the roots of my hair at this praise but shook my head. “It’s what anyone would do, that’s all.”

My would-be admirer remained unconvinced. I needed to change the subject.

“So, you’ve met Alice?”

“That’s right. She seems a nice kid.”

The ‘kid’ under discussion was two years my senior! “Well naturally. She hails from the same state as I do, one town along!”

“Naturally.” A lengthy pause followed, then. “This modelling you’re going to be doing. Who’s the photographer?”

I mentioned the name.

“Can’t say I’ve heard of him. Are you sure he’s okay?”

“I think so.” I couldn’t speak with any confidence. I actually thought that the guy seemed a bit creepy but didn’t want to get Harvey all fired up again. “I’m taking Rachel with me, to be on the safe side.”

“That’s good, but if she can’t make it for any reason, I’m your man. Just say the word.”

“Thanks. That’s really kind.”

“It’s what friends are for, right?”

“Right!”

Another awkward pause ensued. I was out of ideas and eventually it was Harvey who broke the silence. “I gotta go, I’m afraid. Things to do. People to see.”

He rose from the chair. I got up too and before I knew it, we were hugging. The embrace caught me off guard and became more prolonged than a leave-taking hug strictly should have. It felt so nice to be in his arms and I started to feel all tingly. Fortunately, the thought occurred to me that, were Rachel to walk in on us, my compromising position would be hard to explain. That galvanised me into taking control and easing myself away from him, although against all my inclination.

When I was alone again, I wondered how it was that my body seemed to have a mind of its own where Harvey was concerned. I even reconsidered whether I ought to do some matchmaking between the youth and Alice after all. It might be safer to have him neatly paired up after all!

My first photo shoot took place on the evening arranged and all went well. I chose a sober jacket and skirt to wear for it. Under Rachel’s watchful eye, Walt behaved like a perfect gentleman. His studio was a large room furnished with a number of different backdrops in separate corners. The photographer seemed to know exactly what he was about. He set up several different cameras and played with mood lighting, as he termed it, while he posed me for a series of portrait shots.

Once I was positioned as desired, he used an instant camera to confirm the result before taking the real exposure. In the days before digital photography, film was expensive. At the end of the session, he presented me with these discarded snapshots. I had to admit that I looked pretty good. He too was apparently pleased with the night’s results and arranged a further evening the following week with the instruction. “Wear somethin’ nice next time.”

“Nice?” Rachel and I exchanged meaningful glances.

“You know. Evening dress or somethin’.”

That was tricky. How would I cope with that request, given the small problem of my complete lack of evening wear. Next day at the salon I went to see my employer to try and remedy this. After explaining the reason for my need I asked Mrs Millward if I might perhaps borrow a full-length gown. She was cautious in her response, wanting to hear all the details first. The ultimate decision was favourable, however.

“I’m glad you’re not taking this photo work on unchaperoned. A pretty girl like you can’t be too careful. Let me see. I believe there was a gown that got damaged in transit and didn’t make it to the fashion show. I can’t sell it or return it to the supplier. That would probably fit you, with perhaps a pin here or there. Would you like to see if that one would work?”

Accordingly, for my second photo session I took the borrowed evening gown. There were shoes to match. Even though they were a size too large, they would be okay for the camera, and I’d borrowed some trinkets to complete what I hoped was a sophisticated look. Wearing all the bling gave me confidence. Once I’d changed and emerged from behind the screen the photographer seemed impressed too. He got down to work straightaway and the shoot was soon completed. Rachel had been busy that evening so had merely given me a ride to the studio and left me there. She returned to take me home at the end of the evening.

We were both pleased to see that Walt was sticking to his side of our arrangement. Before I left he handed me an envelope with the agreed cash in it. It felt very satisfying to know I would be able to help Mom out, even though so far, the amount I’d earned wasn’t very large. This wasn’t the ‘real money’ he had talked about, which had been the lure which had led me on. Apparently, there was more to getting that than I’d realised.

“See honey. I can probably sell some of these pics to a couple of magazines that give me work but that’s going to give you no more than cab fare. The real money you can make is with an advertising contract. If you can wait a few weeks, I’ll have circulated your portfolio. Then you’ll see.”

I had to resign myself to wait.

Patience!

Diva Dismayed: Chapter 24 – Revelations
The following day I was walking back from college with Alice, and we became entangled in one of those deep conversations that I dreaded. I never knew where they might lead, and I disliked having to lie my way out of making some admission or other.

“Thank goodness, today is my last day” she exclaimed.

I had no idea what she could be talking about. “Last day?”

“Of my period, silly. What did you think I meant?”

This was definitely going to be one of those conversations. I shrugged my shoulders in reply in an effort not to get involved. After we’d walked on a little space, however, I felt that I had to enquire further and show sympathy. “Has it been very bad, this time?”

“Yesterday was the worst. Today the cramps aren’t so painful, but it’s never very nice.”

I took her hand and squeezed it. She looked so grateful at this simplest of actions that I found myself saying “Look, when we get back to the apartment block, you must come and have tea with me. You will soon feel better if you can relax a little.” I knew Rachel would be at work until late, so I was free to do a bit of pampering. I felt happy to know I might be helping the girl.

Accordingly, some ten minutes later Alice was seated in my easy chair while I made us drinks and opened a carton of cookies. I filled a hot water bottle and got out a warm throw so I could anticipate any of her potential needs. It was soon apparent that I hadn’t thought of everything.

“Have you any aspirin?” she asked.

“Yes, there’s a bottle among my washing things in the bedroom. If you hang on a sec, I’ll get some for you.”

“It’s okay, I’ll find them.”

Next instant she had gone, only to reappear with the washbag in question. Before I could stop her, she had tipped its contents onto the table. I hastily tried to intervene, but in vain. Taking something from the table she had flopped onto a chair and sat looking at it with a dazed expression on her face. Realising that there was no help but for me to explain I stood sheepishly in front of her.

“It’s my douche!”

Back in those times most post-pubertal women misguidedly used some form of these devices for feminine ‘hygiene’ and my being coerced into the use of one had been part of my mother’s feminising regime for me. Once I had become inured to this practice, after some months Mom had upped the ante by buying me a much larger size, as befitting the ‘big girl you have now become’! To reassure me, she had stated that I would thank her for this formidable instrument with its bulbous fluted nozzle, and after a few sessions with it, I had to admit that she was right.

“Well, I can see that, but…” Alice hesitated “It’s so big! The end on mine is so much thinner and I’m two years older. How do you manage?”

“Er…” This was difficult. I couldn’t tell her that my use of the douche involved a completely different body part. “I think you can guess.”

“You’re not a… You’ve had…”

“Afraid so. Popped my cherry already.” I admitted ruefully, trying to make light of the revelation, but convent girl Alice looked horrified.

“Oh, my goodness” she cried, “and you’re only sixteen! “How? I mean, when?”

This conversation wasn’t getting any easier. How was I to get out of this one?

“Well.” I was thinking hard. “You know I told you that I dated an older person.”

Wide-eyed, my companion nodded assent.

“It was then. We had a weekend away together and it kind of just happened.”

“Ooh! What was it like? Did it hurt?”

Far from closing off this line of questioning, her curiosity seemed to be spiralling out of control. There must be a way to bring the subject to a close. I tried shock tactics.

“I can’t say it hurt, really, but it always helps to have a more experienced partner. Oh, and the sex was great.”

Fortunately, the girl now seemed to have been stunned into silence by what she’d heard. Attentively, I handed her an aspirin and a glass of water, then poured out her tea.

I could tell that Alice would never look at me in the same light again!

For the third shoot I went to the studio unaccompanied. Rachel had a shift to work that evening. I felt sure enough in myself, but my friend was concerned for my safety. I promised her I would prearrange for a cab to take me home at the end of the session.

When I arrived, I could hear a buzz of voices which seemed to emanate from a small room off the main studio. The windows to it were of frosted glass so I couldn’t see who was there but after a moment Walt himself emerged.

I’d chosen one of my prettiest party dresses to wear and he seemed pleased with my selection. I’d had a few misgivings about the choice, myself, as the top was quite revealing and the skirt was above my knee, but I was hopeful that by showing as much skin as I dared things need go no further.

After taking half dozen snaps with the instant camera, however, Walt was joined by a familiar figure. His friend Maurice came out of the little office and came over to where I was posing. I was greeted effusively by the man and treated to a warmer embrace than I desired. After what seemed an age, I finally fended him off. I was wondering whether I ought to get my jacket and go there and then, but thankfully we got down to serious shooting straightaway.

Maurice effectively took charge of the session and for the remainder of the evening he directed proceedings. First, he examined the instant photos that Walt had just taken intently, and then he upped the stakes.

“Jennifer, my dear. Don’t get me wrong. These pictures are nice in their way but, well, they’re just cheesecake. You need to get people’s attention.”

Whatever he was meaning, I didn’t like the portents of what might follow. I must have shown my concern in my face.

“You don’t understand my meaning? Well, look at it this way. The people who put together photographs for commercials see hundreds of good-looking girls. I’m not suggesting any of what my friend here terms ‘funny business’...”

I charitably took him to mean no nudity. “…but to make them remember you, we need to show a little imagination.”

I was cautious but prepared to find out more. “Okay, I think. What have you in mind?”

“Let’s start by nominating a theme, one perhaps a little over-used, but by that same token, one that will be most relevant commercially. I suggest we that attempt to create a perfect image of ‘the girl next door’.”

He walked over to a rail of clothing and selected a couple of items which he returned and handed to me. “Try these for size, my dear. I believe they will produce the desired effect.”

With some trepidation I took them from him and retired behind the screen to change. What I’d been asked to wear comprised a minuscule pair of denim shorts and a skimpy top. I could see that there would be no room for a bra underneath the latter and was also unsure whether the lines of my panties might be visible below the shorts. Both would have to be discarded! The new items were in a stretchy fabric so I guessed would be likely to fit. Even so, squeezing my rounded butt and well-developed breasts into them proved more of a challenge than I was comfortable with. As in the song, I knew that I, like June, was ‘bustin’ out all over’!”

When I emerged, Maurice signalled his approval by polite applause. The leery grin on Walt’s face was disconcerting, but the other man’s more refined reaction helped bolster my confidence.

He handed me a pair of heels in a similar shade of blue to the shorts and the photographing started.

After the more usual poses had been explored, Walt threw me a basketball for some action shots and once we were embarked on those I started to relax. After the possibilities of this prop had been exhausted, I guessed we might nearly be done. Just then we were interrupted by the sound of the outer door opening. It was too early in the evening for the cab, so I wondered what stranger would enter the room. Another surprise awaited me, however, when in walked… Pete… of all people. What on earth was she doing here?

“So, this is what you’ve been up to since I saw you last. Associating with shady types like these is a risky business, let me assure you” she chided, laughing.

“What…?” I was confused, and the woman enjoyed my incomprehension for a full minute before deigning to explain her presence.

Eventually she clarified. “You probably should know that I run an advertising agency and Maurice represents a major account. We give Walt here some work from time to time, if he behaves himself, that is. Has he been a perfect gentleman?”

At this question, the photographer’s face bore a sheepish expression.

I didn’t feel like exonerating him completely and tried to emulate the woman’s tone. “Well, he’s kept his hands to himself, so far.”

“With such great temptation before him…” she eyed me up and down “…that’s quite a wonder, let me assure you. I won’t ask about Maurice!” The men quailed under this hail of banter. It was clear who now was firmly in control of this little gathering.

“Walt told us he was photographing a hot, new prospect this evening and I was curious to see whether the Jennifer he described was the one I knew already. I was correct, Walt, and, yes, she’s hot, all right!”

Ignoring my blushes, she turned to Maurice. “Is there much more to shoot, or are we done?”

They examined the instant photos and Pete suggested a few more poses. When I’d duly contorted myself to portray them and Walt had obliged with his camera, she announced that the session was over for the evening.

“Come, my dear. I’m sure it’s near your bedtime. You don’t need to change out of that sizzling outfit. Let me give you a ride home.”

I hesitated, feeling both over exposed and vulnerable, but Pete was in command. I recognised that I would just have to go with the flow. Draping my jacket across my shoulders before picking up my bag of belongings, she led me out to where her two-seater was parked up. It was drizzling slightly, and the top was up, so I was glad to get inside out of the wet. Pete held the door for me before walking around to the driver’s side. I was unused to anyone doing me that sort of courtesy. It made me feel delicate and feminine, a real girl.

The car was of foreign manufacture, at a guess, and was by no means new. The interior was spartan rather than otherwise and the leather seats had seen much wear. Glancing at the controls, I noticed it exhibited a stick shift, uncommon in those times.

“I can see you’re interested in my wheels. This baby can move let me tell you.” Pete said immodestly. “I call her Athena, after the goddess of wisdom. Her wisdom makes up for the lack of mine. I’ve had her a long time. She came all the way from Europe and is a real sports model. I’ll be sad when I have to let her go.”

“I think she’s amazing. She’s the kind of car I’d like to have one day.” I surprised myself with my enthusiasm. Cars were something I hadn’t had much opportunity to be interested in up to now.

“Really?”

I nodded.

My driver slipped the engine into gear. “Where is it to be then, my lovely?” she asked placing her hand on my leg and smiling across at me. “My place or yours?”

I cudgelled my brains, trying to come up with a suitably pithy riposte, but unsuccessfully. Her hand remained on my thigh which made me feel more vulnerable than ever. My body seemed to be tingling all over. It was a pleasant sensation which would have made it easy to acquiesce and let the woman take charge.

I roused myself with an effort. “Oh, definitely mine, please. I’m ready for bed.” My choice of words was perhaps unfortunate.

“That sounds like a wonderful idea. So am I!”

“To sleep, I meant.”

“So did I… afterwards!” Even though she was engaged in driving the automobile, Pete kept her hand on my leg at every opportunity, as if she was controlling myself and the car at the same time. She amused herself by running the middle finger of her hand around in little circles against my skin. The motion felt extremely sensual. Really! This was not going well! I was puzzled to see how to extricate myself without going to extremes. I couldn’t help liking Pete but short of losing my cool, demanding that she stop the car and storming off into the night, what else could I do? I sighed in desperation.

At this the woman dissolved into peals of mirth. “Don’t fret yourself, sweetheart. I’m just winding you up! If truth be told, Fifi and I got back together again today, so I have a night to remember ahead of me. Sorry I can’t oblige you this time, honey. I’ll leave you to the tender mercies of Della. It will be your loss!”

Hearing these words, my relief was palpable, but I sought to correct her. “Not Della. She and I are merely friends and not even very close.”

“I see. You mean there’s someone else? You’re a very dark horse for one so young.”

I stayed silent, hoping the interrogation would be over soon. At first I thought it was but then we pulled up outside my apartment block and her parting shot set my nerves jangling again.

“Another time then, hon. In case you’re wondering, Fiona and I have never been exclusive!”

Help! 

Diva Dismayed: Chapter 25 – My new image

Before the next photo shoot, I had a compelling conversation with my employer. She detained me as I was about to take my break for lunch.

“Jennifer, dear. Have you got a minute.”

I regarded her attentively, wondering what was coming next.

“Don’t look so worried” she smiled. “I’ve been meaning to ask you. How has your modelling been going.”

“It’s been going well, thanks Mrs Millward. Walt seems to be quite happy with me.”

“And are you happy with him? What are you being asked to do?”

I described the work I’d done so far and went on to tell her that the photographer was hopeful about lining up an advertising contract soon.”

“Then you would be in front of the camera on a regular basis. Mmm… Are you comfortable to do that?”

“I guess so, though I’m not so sure about having my pictures all over national magazines like he seems to expect. Being recognised by strangers might be a nuisance, if that were to happen.”

I’d had this worry at the back of my mind for some time. Up to now I’d always found anonymity to be my best friend.

“I’m not surprised. You strike me as the sort of girl who likes a quiet life.”

I nodded in agreement.

“Perhaps I might make a suggestion? Have you thought of making some changes to your appearance? For your modelling sessions, why not go blonde for instance?”

“Colouring my hair?” I wasn’t sure how that would help.

“No, not exactly. You will want to be able to switch from your normal look to one that you keep just for the photographs. Let’s find you a wig. It’s amazing how different you might appear if you were to wear one. Ask Sally here to help you choose something suitable. Also, you could try altering your make-up and go for a more dramatic style.”

“Ooh, I’m in. This sounds like fun!” squealed my colleague when she heard what was intended.

Accordingly, when there was a quiet spell at the salon that afternoon, I allowed Sally to have her way with me. It was not without misgivings. As I half-expected, there were no holds barred when she got going. She tried various hairpieces on me, but, after rejecting most of them as too outlandish or not different enough, she settled on a long blonde wig in a natural style. She felt that it retained a youthful look but that it added a degree of sophistication.

“Just one problem” said Sally after a few unavailing attempts to fit the one we'd selected to her satisfaction. “Your own hair is too bulky to go under this.”

She pondered, then “Well. It’s time these extensions came out in any case. I’ll remove them, shall I?”

I agreed a little reluctantly. That would mean my everyday look would also need to change.

“You know your hair needs a good trim, so after we’ve done with the wig, let me style it for you.”

I couldn’t think of any alternative so accordingly, I gave in. “Whatever you think.”

Once my new hair was in place, she went to town on my face with blush, eyeshadow and mascara until I scarcely recognised my reflection.

“Happy?” asked my colleague after making the final adjustments to my hair.
I had to admit that the result looked good. “Very happy” I beamed. She was right! Having a new look could be fun.

“Now, we’ll take it all off again and then I’m going to give you a shorter natural hairstyle. Okay?”

Two new looks in one day. What could be better?

On my way home that evening, I encountered Della as I approached the building. She was headed in the opposite direction and unaccountably she walked straight past me. I turned and stared after her wondering if I’d done something to offend her before I twigged. She hadn’t recognised me with my newly styled hair.

Once I was inside, I gleefully rang for the elevator. I wanted to try out the new me on Noah.

The old guy wasn’t so easily taken in, “Why, Miss Jennifer. You caint fool me. I knowd it was you. I ain’t blind just yet, I’ll have you know!”
However, I was pleased to note that he’d taken a few minutes before he’d recognised who I was.

My next action was to show myself to Rachel and her reaction was pretty much exactly what I was hoping for.

“Jennifer! Is that you? What have you done to yourself? Your hair is stunning.”

After I’d explained the rationale for my altered appearance, she expressed her approval of more than just the idea.

“I think I like this sexy new you” she murmured. “Tonight… perhaps we should…”

My next photo session turned out to be once again unchaperoned. Rachel drove me to the studio, but seeing Pete’s two-seater parked up outside, I told her she need not stay. They say success breeds complacency and though it is questionable how successful my previous visits had been, my guard was certainly down on this occasion. I expected to find the car’s owner when I went inside, but instead, a tall black woman immediately caught my eye. I had no choice but to stare. She was scantily dressed in dramatically styled lingerie. The photographer was also giving her the full attention of his camera.

I watched mesmerised as she postured and posed apparently without the slightest inhibition and concluded that here was a true professional.

Eventually Walt noticed my presence. He did the classic double-take when he saw my altered look but made his approval clear. “Lovin’ the hair. Grrrr! Sexy!”

That didn’t do anything for my peace of mind. His next statement was made with a self-satisfied smirk. “Good news honey. I’ve landed us a contract for some advertising work. It’s for a company that do some real classy lines. Fiona here is modelling their burlesque range. Wait till you see what’s been lined up for you!”

“That’s wonderful” I replied, although the thought of wearing anything like the outfit which the other girl was arrayed in certainly took the edge off my enthusiasm. However, I was too taken up with making a mental connection to raise an objection.

“That’s Fifi?” I hadn’t intended to voice my conclusion out loud, but she was nothing like I had imagined.

“Yup! ’s correct” he assented, “she’s the perfect model. You can learn a lot just watching her” then to the black girl, “and that’s a wrap. Great job, darlin’. You never miss!”

She gave the man an arch look which said, “As if!” all too plainly. “So, this is the Jennifer that Pete’s been raving about. Hi! Little girl.” Her manner indicated that she didn’t see what any of the fuss had been about. Having put me in my place, she flounced off to change behind the screen, exuding confidence in every pore as she did so.

Uncertain how to behave, I waited politely for Fiona to get dressed, but next minute I was chided by the photographer to make haste. “Chop, chop, girl. Time is money!”
I had little choice but to comply and walked across to join the older girl behind the partition. To my consternation she was engaged in stepping into a tiny pair of satin panties and had nothing else on. The sight was more than I’d bargained for!

Unfazed as ever, Fiona greeted me with an artificial smile. My discomfiture was clearly apparent as she grinned “Don’t be shy, sugar. We’re all girls here!”

The inaccuracy of this statement gave me some measure of relief. I tried to keep my expression blank. My secret was still just that, it seemed.

The first outfit I had to put on was the shorts and skimpy top set that I’d worn the week before. Walt wanted some further shots of that combination. The issue I had was that to change into the shorts necessitated removing my panties and my foremost concern was to keep what was below my waist concealed from view. How to do so was a puzzle. I hesitated as long as I could but to no avail.

Fiona took charge. Nearly naked herself, the other model took hold of my shoulders and spun me around. Next instant I became aware that my dress was unzipped, my bra unhooked and then both were around my ankles. She spun me back again and smiled wickedly. “That was easy, now wasn’t it” she chided.

Oh, my goodness!

She looked me up and down. “Mmm… Perhaps I was doing Pete an injustice after all” she murmured.

Striving to ignore the effect on my nether regions of what was before my eyes, I was totally dumbstruck.

“Now it’s your turn to help me.” Fiona spoke as if to a child.

Glancing wildly around I saw a bra in the same material as her panties hanging on the back of the chair. I picked it up and held it out for her to slip on. She put her arms through the straps then, standing so close that we were touching asked demurely “Hook me please.”

She didn’t turn round so I had to stand close and put my arms around her to reach behind her back. When I did so those generous boobs encased in shiny material pressed against my naked chest. I found myself trembling from the pleasurable sensation. Somehow I managed to fasten the bra then I grabbed her dress from the chair and helped her into it. It was a slinky polka dot number which her curvy body could only just get into. Squeezing her into it was another intimate experience. I heaved a heartfelt sigh of relief when I finally pulled the zipper up to the top.

The woman clearly had a good idea of what she had just put me through. “Thank-you, Jennifer” she smirked innocently. With that she picked up her jacket and stalked off.

At last, I was left to my own devices. Seeing that she was soon deep in discussion with Walt, I took the opportunity to complete my change of clothes in the window of privacy afforded. Pete, who had just emerged from the office joined the others. Once I'd changed, I hung around feeling awkward in my skimpy costume. I was kept waiting to be told what to do until eventually I was noticed by the group. Pete came over and admired my blonde hair.

“Hi sweetie. I’m going to take Fiona home in a few minutes, so I’m leaving you to Walter’s tender mercies. He knows what to do. Only too well!” she added drily.

I must have shown my concern in my face.

“Don’t fret darling. By the time he’s finished photographing that outfit, I’ll be back for the lingerie shoot. Come on Fifi. Let’s go!”

They made their exit, the latter with a knowing grin on her face. “So long, little girl!”

Why did it not feel like I’d made a friend?

There was no time for dwelling on my situation. My attention was soon fully taken up with posing for the photographer. It was good to have something to fully occupy my thoughts as, so far, the evening had been most disturbing. I was conscious that I was wearing the minimum of clothing and alone with a man I felt unsure about. It took me some time to relax and smile naturally for the camera. It didn’t help that I could tell that Walt was becoming increasingly impatient. In the end he threw me the beachball and I found that posing with that prop helped me lose my inhibitions.

“Now we’re getting’ somewhere. Hold it! You’re doing swell. And again! Great!”

I was starting to unwind and enjoy myself.

Once we’d taken a series of action photos, Walt expressed his satisfaction. “We’re cookin’ on gas, honey” he declared. “Are you ready to rock?”
Feeling quite pleased with his approval of my performance so far, I smiled my assent. I felt prepared for anything.

“This is where the real work begins. That contract I spoke about. Over here!” He led the way across the room to where there was another clothing rail containing only items of lingerie. My heart sank at the prospect facing me.

What had I got myself into now?

Diva Dismayed 26: Chapter 26 – Expectations

This eventful session at the studio came at the close of a harassing day which to my way of thinking had already put me through enough trials. That afternoon Alice and I had had another of those disturbing heart to heart conversations that seemed to accompany befriending her. All through the walk home from college the girl’s face bore a worried expression. When we reached the apartment block and she asked me to step into her room, I knew something serious must be bothering her.

Her opening statement confirmed my surmise. She didn’t pull any punches. “I think I’m pregnant!”

I was so surprised I had difficulty speaking. I wasn’t even aware that she had a boyfriend.

“When…? Who?” I gasped. “What makes you think so?”

“I’m really late this month.”

This didn’t quite figure to my mind. Our continual meeting and Alice’s confiding nature meant that hardly any of the most intimate details of her life were withheld from my knowledge, whether I liked it or not, and by my reckoning, Alice wasn’t due to start her period until the following week.

“How do you work that out?” I probed, gently. I started to hope that she might be mistaken.

“Well, when we first met up, my period I was a week ahead of yours.”

“That’s right.” I assented.

“And then the next month, I was still ahead.”

She was correct, two weeks ahead.

“But this month you have already finished yours.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. The older girl’s math was obviously even worse than mine and the difference in the length of our ‘months’ had confused her. The five-week ‘cycle’ determined for me by my mother could baffle anyone. The tricky problem I had now was to explain her error intelligibly. Aggravating my difficulty was that arithmetic had never been my strong suit so my own grasp on the exact timings was tenuous at best. In desperation I adopted another approach.

“But that may not mean you are pregnant. Tell me… if you were… who might be the father?”

She started to cry. In between sobs, I caught the word “Wayne.”

“Wayne?” Which Wayne? One of the guys on our course was called Wayne but he and Alice had never appeared to be friendly, as far as I was aware.

Alice broke down completely at this point. Abandoning all hope of straightening out fact from supposition I put my arms around her waist to comfort her and hold her until she had recovered enough to speak again. The embrace lasted longer than I expected and to my consternation it started to give rise to some powerful sensations in me which I ought to have anticipated. That unwanted tingling again! However, the girl was clearly deriving some much-needed solace as she clung ever more tightly to me. It would have seemed unsympathetic to break away.

She nestled her head against my neck, and I found that my hand unaccountably strayed downward onto her butt in response. At that she squeezed up even closer to me. I quickly repositioned my erring paw to a safer area, but the pressure of her hips against my body didn’t diminish. It felt nice but that just wasn’t right. Aargh!

After what seemed an age, Alice lifted her head. With the excuse of finding tissues for her to mend her tear-stained face I was able to detach myself. I could only hope that she hadn’t noticed anything. When she’d recovered and we had seated ourselves on the edge of her bed, I tried again to get to the bottom of the matter, so to speak!

“Do you feel like telling me” I held her hands gently “what happened with Wayne? You and he had a date, yes?”

She nodded. “We went to the movies. It wasn’t really a date but there was a film I wanted to see so although I didn’t really want to go out with him, I said yes. That was the only time we were together, and I didn’t want anyone to know so I never said a word about it to anyone.”
She started to sniff again.

“But what happened at the movies?”

“Well, he started kissing me, and I thought I’d better let him as he’d paid for the seats, and he’d bought some candy too. But then things went a bit far.”

“This was in the movie theatre, right? How far?”

“He was running his hand up my leg and it felt really nice so I didn’t mind, but then he put it right inside my panties. I told him ‘no’ directly and he stopped.” Alice started crying again.

“And what else? After that, did anything else happen?”

She shook her head miserably. Overlooking how ludicrous it was for my limited understanding to be employed on this subject I tried to straighten things out.

“Okay. Now listen. You can’t get pregnant without a lot more er… intimacy than you experienced that time. Believe me. It just isn’t possible. Of course, if you are still worried you should see a doctor, but by my reckoning your period will start in a few days. Trust me!”

There was a silence during which I could almost see her brain in motion. Eventually my words seemed to have a positive effect on the girl, and she gave me a weak smile. I made her lie down on the bed with a blanket over her while I made us both a cup of chocolate.

“Thanks Jennifer. You’re my true friend.”

Alice sat up, blinked back some more tears and sipped her drink. “There’s just one more thing.”

“Yes?” I sounded cheerful but internally I was dreading what might be coming next. I was right to be worried.

“Do you think I’m… well… am I still a virgin?”

I gulped, nearly choking on the hot liquid.

What!?

“It’s important to me. I’d like to know.”

The girl had already pushed the blanket aside. I began to fear where this might be leading and called an immediate halt. “Sorry, I can’t help you. That’s something you would have to ask your doctor about.”

There was an appealing look in Alice’s eyes.

I panicked. “Must go. Try not to worry. I’m sure everything will be all right.”

On the way to the studio that evening I gave Rachel the gist of that awkward conversation with Alice. I was pleased to be commended on the way I’d soothed the girl’s fears.

“You amaze me sometimes, Jennifer dear” she exclaimed. “I think you showed both wisdom and tact by the way you comforted Alice. I really ought to give you more credit.”

“Thanks Rachel, but you should have seen how clingy she was with me. I’m not sure that I handled that so well.” I had reckoned that my friend would not want to hear this, but I need not have worried. Rachel didn’t seem at all concerned that I was so deeply in the other girl’s confidence or that we’d embraced.

“Try not to blame yourself because your body reacted that way. Given the complicated sensations you have to deal with on a day-to-day basis, that kind of thing is probably inevitable. But you need to be careful, all the same. That girl is clearly quite needy, and she could easily become overly dependent on you.”

Rachel’s reassuring words were what I needed to hear. Later that evening when I was faced with the emotions my encounter with Fiona had stirred up, I wanted to be reassured all over again. Now I had to deal with another equally uncomfortable situation. I was to be closeted with a man I didn’t trust and to array myself in what I regarded as some very provocative clothing.

At first glance the collection of lingerie on the rail he’d pointed out were in exotic materials and styles. Corsets, panties and basques in satin and lace were in evidence and images of brightly hued frills and flounces smacked me between the eyes. It was only when I was assured that most of these were part of the ‘burlesque’ range which Fifi had been modelling that I agreed to continuing with the session.

It was very welcome news that the garments which were to fall to my lot were much more demure, in keeping with what a teenage girl might wear. However, I have to admit that the sight of those other items triggered an element of curiosity that niggled away at the back of my mind. I retired behind the screen to change, telling myself that this wasn’t such a big deal. I ought to able to carry it off.

When I looked in the glass my self-belief was restored by what I saw. The set I was wearing included a full slip, over matching bra, panties and garters. They exuded luxury in every detail and looked and felt expensive. This was the sort of underwear that the average teen would seldom get to wear, designed only for the most special of occasions. I revelled in its sensual touch against my skin. I was confident that these photos were destined to appear in a different sector of publishing than the risqué stuff which the other girl had modelled earlier.

Walt began work in earnest and before long he announced that sufficient images had been captured. I was then required to step behind the screen and change again to show off a further item, a panty girdle in matching lace. This kind of control garment was designed to be worn with pantyhose, an innovation around that time. For the photo shoot I could only wear this and my bra. I emerged from the refuge of the screen feeling at my most vulnerable yet, in front of the camera and clad only in this flimsy pairing.

This part of the session seemed to go on for ever. Throughout the evening I had been expecting Pete to walk in on us and take over its direction, but she had clearly been seriously delayed. By the time it was over she still hadn’t put in an appearance. Walt expressed his own impatience by repeatedly wondering where she might have got to. He needed her to check that the objectives of the night’s work had been successfully met. The man clicked his tongue, checked his watch again and then proceeded to make a suggestion.

“While we’re waiting, do me a favour and try these for size.” With an insinuating smile he selected from the rail one of Fifi’s corset sets. To be fair it was a very pretty one, in ivory figured satin adorned with pink frills.

“If you don’t like, that’s okay, but just give them a try. You’ll look good, trust me. Only the highest quality, see? You don’t need to be too choosy about what you wear if you aim to make regular cash.”

Dubiously I pondered my options. From the outset I’d decided to avoid anything suggestive, and the creepy manner of the photographer’s request did little to reassure me. On the other hand, I was anxious for these sessions to continue as long as possible so I could earn enough to meet my purpose. Curiosity finally lent its weight as I reasoned that Pete must be here before long, so I ought to be safe enough.

“Okay, I’ll try them on, but I’m not committing myself to any photos just yet.” I gave the man what I hoped was a hard stare in an optimistic attempt to remain in control.

Taking the proffered articles from his hand, I went behind the screen again. The corset was steel-boned and there were tiny panties in matching material. I quickly donned the latter then struggled into the former, wrapping the constricting device around me and clipping the busk together. I tightened and tied the laces as well as I could. All that remained was to attach the suspender tabs to some sheer hose. To complete the ensemble, I slipped my feet into a pair of shiny high-heeled pumps. They were a little large but that would be okay.

I rejoined my companion with some trepidation to be met with only qualified approval. “Perfect” he exclaimed, then “almost perfect. Turn around.”

I obeyed, wondering what was about to happen next, and immediately felt the laces of my garment being grasped and then being hauled taut. For several minutes my companion worked to achieve the most constricting result imaginable. By the time he had finished I was left in no doubt that he was a lot stronger than I might have given him credit for. I could hardly draw breath and now felt totally powerless. That wasn’t at all what I’d intended, but I was surprised to find that the helplessness of my situation was not as unwelcome as it should have been. My constrained chest heaved as if would burst out and a thrill ran through me. These were warning signs flashing if I chose to heed them.

Of course, I didn’t. Instead I turned to face the guy. “Well, how do I look?” I primped. The situation felt deliciously flirtatious. That was never a good thing!

“Swell!” came his pronounced conclusion. “Over here!” He led the way across to another corner of the room and took the wraps off a number of props. When he had unveiled them, arrayed before me were a couch with a zebra striped cover, a chair and potted plant. He pointed to the zebra couch and began altering the position of a number of lights. “Now let’s get started. Kneel on that.”

I did so.

“That’s terrific, honey. As neat as Betty Brosmer.”

His reference to the girl with ‘the impossible waist’ was not lost on me. I drew myself up and thrust out my bosom to copy the pose suggested by it.

What was I doing?

As a concession I’d told Walt he could take some instant snapshots. While he performed this operation I was all too aware how closely he stationed himself to me. I could literally feel his breath on my bare shoulders, smelling of stale tobacco. Every moment I expected him to touch me and while my skin crawled at the very thought, at least half of me actually desired that contact. Here was a second ‘pregnant’ situation; this time pregnant with anticipation!

Where, oh where was Pete?

Diva Dismayed: Chapter 27 – Matchmaking

The following week I tried to distance myself from Alice. I knew I ought to prevent our intimacy developing further if I could. However, her continual expressions of friendship undid my resolve. I hadn’t the heart to be cold when she so clearly placed unqualified trust in me. My underlying anxiety didn’t diminish, all the same. After the girl started her period on time, and as I’d predicted, it seemed as if I could do no wrong in her eyes. Though it was quite an ego boost to bask in smiles of gratitude, I knew they were largely unmerited.

After several days enjoying these signs of affection, I mentioned the matter to Rachel. Her take on it took the wind from my sails completely. “Naturally I can understand why she feels that way about you” she remarked drily. “Who wouldn’t?” When we had done laughing, she continued “But you do see that it isn’t healthy for her, or for you. Besides, you may not be able to get your head through the doorway much longer if things go on the way they are!”

I winced, so she added kindly, “I know you haven’t tried to attract the poor girl physically but now you are aware it’s happened, you really ought to do something about it. See if you can’t deflect her interest in some way.”

Unwelcome as this advice might have been, I recognised its merit. The responsibility for untangling my relationship with Alice clearly lay at my door and I was grateful that I could always rely on Rachel to help me make sense of my complicated life.

Another instance of her being there for me had occurred only a few days before. I was much in need of solace on my return from the last photo session, and I’d sought refuge in her room. Despite the lateness of the hour, her first concern was to sooth my shattered nerves.
Instantly recognising that something wasn’t right, Rachel was all over concern. “Jennifer. What’s the matter? Did anything happen?”

“You could say that.” I began.

“Oh, that man. I knew I shouldn’t have let you go in there alone. He made a pass at you. Yes?”

I knew I had to come clean. “No. It was the other way around. I wanted him to make a pass at me, kind of, and fortunately for me he didn’t!” Shamefacedly I gave my friend the full details.

“Once we’d finished shooting, we were hanging around waiting for Pete to come back to sign it off. I needed her to give me a ride home too. To fill in the time Walt suggested I might try on one of Fiona’s outfits.”

“One of those burlesque get-ups? Tell me you didn’t!”

I hung my head. “Actually, I did. He was quite persuasive, pointing out that if I wanted plenty of work, I needed to broaden my range a little. I thought it would be okay as Pete would be bound to turn up sooner than later and I was already wearing what felt like practically nothing.”
“I guess I was curious to know what it would be like, too” I confessed miserably. “Sorry.”

Rachel put her arm around my shoulders. “Go on.”

“Well, I’d said he could take some instant photos but no film. When I’d done posing, he showed me the snaps and was really enthusiastic, telling me I looked ‘real swell’, whatever that meant! But when I saw them, I knew it just wasn’t me. Look, I brought some back for you to see.”

My friend examined them, wide-eyed. “Oh Jennifer!”

“I know!”

I screwed up my courage to tell her the rest. “Walt was pretty disappointed when I wouldn’t change my mind about letting him take real photographs. He started banging about putting his equipment away, but I stuck to my guns.”

“Good for you!”

“Yes, but this is what I’m not proud of. Something in me didn’t want things to end there. I had to get changed again and although I knew it was a stupid idea, I asked him to unlace the corset. I could have managed by myself, of course, but I made him do it. It was crazy of me.”
Rachel didn’t say anything but squeezed me tighter.

“Anyway, he did it and that was that. I’d gotten so wound up I was almost trembling, wondering when something would happen. But it didn’t. He just went back to putting his stuff away. Then Pete walked in and that was that.”

Rachel didn’t say anything, so I ploughed on.

“Well, on the ride home she was full of the success of the shoot and started predicting where my career might lead. She said I can officially call myself a model now. I had trouble joining in with any enthusiasm and she noticed. She seemed to think my mood was caused by her lateness and she kept apologising for that. Apparently, the delay was caused by her partner. Apparently, ‘Fifi was in a tricky mood’. Pete had spent the time reassuring her. It seems that Fiona might see me as a potential threat of some kind! Can you believe that?”

“Actually, yes I can.”

“Anyway, I said it wasn’t a problem, so she wanted to know if I was okay with Walt photographing me. I told her yes, but that I felt a little bit vulnerable too. She said that there was really no need for me to worry. Apparently, she has given the guy work for years and he’s never crossed the line once. She reckoned that deep down he was actually scared of women.”

“That’s a mercy!”

“But Rachel, I just don’t understand myself. I find that man seedy, almost repulsive, yet I was virtually willing the guy to hit on me. When nothing happened, I felt relieved of course but dissatisfied too. I’m a mess!”

Silently my friend led me over to her dresser. She removed my wig and brushed out my own locks. Then she took out the hair curlers. My hair had been flattened by the wig and I would need to sleep in them to restore its curl for the morning.

Hesitantly, she gave me her take on my behaviour. “I’m no expert but if you want my opinion then it’s this. You had been cooped up with a strange man in an intimate a situation. You’d been wearing very little all evening and you were half-expecting him to hit on you. Then when he didn’t it felt like a rejection. That was why you found yourself disappointed. There’s a lesson for you there and I can’t say it too often. Self-control. If you go with one of those mad impulses of yours, it’s almost always going to be the wrong choice.”

My rueful expression made her laugh.
“You need to keep in mind that you make a very attractive young woman, and your looks give you power over men. But you have to use it wisely. That power can so easily turn into a weakness if you don’t keep your feelings in check.” She shook her head at me. “I know you will learn one day. I just hope it doesn’t prove to be the hard way!”

As I started to remove my make-up, I hoped so too.

“Anyway. Let me see those snaps again. Mmm, I have to admit, you look ‘somethin’ else’ in these, sweetie! Let’s go to bed.”
Over the next days, cudgel my brains as I might, it was hard to come up with any plan that might deflect Alice’s feelings towards myself. It was by chance that the germ of an idea took root in my brain. I’d bumped into Harvey at the foot of one of the flights of stairs and after exchanging greetings he asked how my course was going.

“Oh, it’s really good, thanks. There’s a lot of memory work, but the amazing thing is that I seem to be managing to keep on top of it. I can’t be as dumb as I look” I joked.

“You’ve never looked at all dumb to me.”

This was embarrassing. I hadn’t been fishing for compliments. I tried to pass his remark off lightly. “You wouldn’t say that if you had seen my grades in high school.” Just then my fellow student appeared descending the flight.

“Hi Alice, dear” I called, glad to be able to change the direction of the conversation.
Her face lit up on being so greeted, and then seeing who I was with, her attention was immediately diverted. Her manner became coy.

I regarded my two companions appraisingly as they chatted together. Their conversation was so stilted it made me wonder why that might be. If I was reading their body language correctly, then there was some kind of chemistry going on, mainly in Alice. Here was a possible solution.

That evening I broached the topic with Rachel. “This Saturday evening you are on shift?”

“I know. I tried to change it so we might have a night out but couldn’t find anyone to swap with. It’s tiresome.”

“Would you mind very much if I went out anyway, but with Alice. I’ve been wondering whether it might provide an opportunity for her to hook up with someone. What do you reckon?”

“Hmm. It sounds a bit of a long shot to me.”

“Well.” I approached what might be a sensitive area with caution. “I was thinking of asking Harvey to come with us. I was hoping that he and she might hit it off.” I paused. Rachel was frowning. I was aware that I’d touched a nerve. However, after hesitating a moment, she shrugged her shoulders and smiled.

“It’s within the bounds of possibility, I guess, and they would make a nice couple. So, yes, give it a go, by all means, but you must tell me every detail afterwards. I’ll be dying to hear all about how your protégés fare!”

With Rachel’s blessing thus received, I had only to reconcile my own feelings to the idea. Harvey and I got on like a house on fire, and to allow our relationship to be superseded by one with someone else went against the grain. Of course, that might have been why Rachel wasn’t so keen on my seeing too much of him. However, I told myself that sacrifices must be endured if everyone was to be made happy. A cooler friendship with the good-looking guy would have to be enough for me.

I took the next opportunity to invite Alice to come out with me. It turned out to be during another of those awkward conversations that enlivened our walks home.

“Jennifer. You know Della on the floor above us?” the girl began. “I think she might be a…” she glanced from side to side as if to ensure we weren’t overheard, although there was no-one remotely within earshot, “a… a lesbian.”

I tried as hard as I could not to smile. “Really? Why do you think so?”

“Because she keeps getting too close to me, and touching my arm, and stuff. It’s creepy. Haven’t you felt the same?”

I nodded. I knew what she meant.

“I don’t like it.”

“No. I wouldn’t have expected you to.”

“That’s surprising.” She hesitated, then continued “because I’ve been wondering if I’m one too.”
“
What?” I gasped. “Why would you imagine so?” To me, her evident interest in the male sex had been clearly established weeks ago.
Alice fell silent. I racked my brain to try and guess what could be confusing her. I was completely at a loss.

In the end, the older girl brought herself to speak. “It was when you hugged me. The time when I was worried about being pregnant.”

Oh no! I remembered the embrace vividly.

“I’ve never felt like that before. It was somehow different, like I was attracted, and I thought I must be… you know… for it to be that way.”

This was a disaster. I could guess the real reason for her confusion. The embrace had prompted stirrings within me as well. How could I straighten her out without disclosing the truth about of my actual gender? That secret was one which I wanted to let as few people in on as possible. Thinking hard I came up with a solution.

“You must remember, Alice, how upset you were on that occasion. That must have been why you felt so strange when we held each other. In any case there’s a surer way of telling. What if you had the prospect of a date with a boy?”

“A boy? What boy?” The girl’s attention was caught immediately.

“I can see you’re interested straight-away. One who was good-looking, and kind and thoughtful too.”

“I don’t know any boys like that” she said sadly.

“Actually, you do.”

“Who?”

“You know one who is just like that. Harvey! From the way that you and he were chatting the other day, I think he likes you...”

She coloured up immediately.

“…and you him! Also, I believe he’s currently unattached. What say we three go out on Saturday?”

“That would be wonderful.” She glowed with delight at the thought. “But I’m hopeless on dates. I never know what to say, and what would I wear?”

“Leave all that to me. You’re going to be stunning, trust me!”

I breathed a sigh of relief. Now there were only a couple of problems remaining for me to deal with. One was to turn my protégé into a princess in three days. That didn’t sound beyond the bounds of possibility. The other one was trickier. I needed to ask Harvey to go out with us, without it becoming a date.
Not again!

Diva Dismayed 28: Chapter 28 – A new perspective

The following day I was waiting in line at the bus-stop after what had seemed a lengthy day at work. Young and healthy though I was, I’d been on my feet for ever it seemed, and was looking forward to supper with my dear Rachel and a quiet evening. The nights were drawing in as the year wound its way towards its close. Dusk was beginning to fall, and I shivered. I was starting to regret the choice of dress I’d made that morning when sunshine had promised another mild day. Just as I consulted my watch for the third time, a screech of brakes made me look up. A small automobile came to an abrupt halt beside me.

“Want a ride?” called the driver and I looked to see Pete’s grinning features behind the wheel.

Once I was seated and we were underway Pete swung the two-seater right around, causing mild consternation in the drivers of the vehicles following, and a near coronary in the guy piloting the delivery van which was approaching.

An angry blare of horns greeted the final seconds of her manoeuvre, but Pete dismissed the protests with a shrug and an airy wave of her arm. “The old girl may have seen better days, but she can still lift up her skirts and run! I’ll be sorry to see her go.”

When I had recovered from the state of near panic induced by her erratic style of navigation, I took the opportunity to remark “Oh, surely you aren’t selling Athena. Why would you?”

She merely smiled at this.

I continued. “You know, she seems like a real person to me. I expect I’ll have a car just like her one day.”

My driver’s response was an appraising glance. I was relieved when she returned her attention to the road! Some minutes later Pete took an unexpected turn down a side alley. This wasn’t the way to my apartment.

“Where are we going?”

“There’s something I want to show you” she remarked casually, and I had to exercise my patience for the rest of the ride.

Eventually we turned off the street, and I recognised the parking garage attached to the block where the woman resided. Only then was an explanation provided. “It’s sad but Athena must go. The reason is that this week my new Jaguar has arrived, all the way from the mother nation. Wait until you see her.”

Pete’s face bore a self-satisfied expression. “I haven’t come up with a name for her, as yet, but I’m working on it.”

The object in question was parked in the adjacent bay and the sleek red automobile bore a passing resemblance to a rocket ship. I perched myself comfortably against Athena’s hood to take in the view. I was impressed. I duly listened, admired and praised Pete’s new pride and joy. Once my head had been filled to the brim with facts and features about this wonder, I had leisure to compare new with old. I couldn’t help but conclude that my preference was strongly in favour of the latter.

A silence fell until my reverie was interrupted by Pete. I looked up to see that she had been watching me intently, a smile across her face.

“Come along, sweetie. Let’s go inside. Coffee?”

Once I was seated with a steaming cup in my hand, my hostess placed an envelope on the table before me.

“Open it!”

I obeyed and a fold of bills fell out.

“That’s the first instalment of pay from your modelling contract. That’s what you will be earning each week while you continue. I can tell you there’s enough work to keep you busy until the end of the year and beyond.”

I was overwhelmed. “This is far more than I was expecting, Pete. Are you sure it’s right?”

“I couldn’t be more so. Are you happy to keep on with this modelling?”

I nodded gleefully. Arithmetic wasn’t my strong suit but, “At this rate I can clear Mom’s debt by Thanksgiving. Oh, thank you!”

I ran across to hug her, before remembering the trouble my hasty impulses had previously gotten me into. I quickly improvised a squeeze of her hands and peck on the cheek instead, hoping to pass these actions off as natural.

“No, I should thank you, my dear. Now. I have another proposition for you.”

Why did those words not fill me with delight? Pete’s powerful personality would make any suggestion of hers more like a command. I made the best of it, however. “Fire away” I smiled.

“When I bought the wonderful new set of wheels you have just been admiring, I asked the dealer what he would offer me for Athena. I regret to say that the amount he named was derisory. A few hundred dollars. Nor would he budge. I was partly relieved of course as I had a new owner in mind. I would dearly love to be sure that the old girl will go to someone who appreciates her and all her little ways.”

“Oh, yes. That would be so much better than her ending up on a used car lot somewhere.” Surprisingly I found my eyes had misted over at the thought.

“Someone just like you, perhaps?”

“Yes, someone like me” I agreed.

“No. Actually you!”

Me?

“Yes… but...”

“If you would like to own her then she’s yours. All I would ask in return is the paltry sum that the dealer offered me. That seems fair. If you are happy with that price, here is what we’ll do. You won’t need to make any payments until after Thanksgiving or whenever you have finished helping your mom out. After that you could take, shall we say, six months to pay?”

I was unsure about this. The possibility of having my own car hadn’t crossed my mind and I was unused to dealing with the sums involved.

“Take as long as you like to think about it and let me know when you decide.”

I decided! It may have been a mad impulse, but I felt certain that I wouldn’t regret this one. “I don’t need any time. The answer’s yes. Yes please!”

“That’s wonderful. I’m so happy she will have a good owner. Here are the keys. I’ll find you the papers.”

A thought struck me. “What about Fiona? Wouldn’t she like to own Athena herself?”

“Definitely not. She has been campaigning for me to replace the old lady for months. No. If you want her, she’s yours!”

Behind the wheel of my very own car for the first time, all I could do was to sit, spellbound. I was too stunned to take the idea in. Where would she take me? A whole new perspective seemed to open before me. Wait until I showed her to Rachel! I felt sure that she would be just as excited as I was.

As I parked the little convertible outside my apartment block for the first time it was another person that I encountered instead of Rachel. Harvey stood transfixed as I got out of the car. When recognition struck, predictably his enthusiasm was obvious. He walked right around the two-seater twice without finding words to express his approval. Finally, “She’s beautiful!”

“I’m glad you approve!” I laughed.

“Approve. I’m green with envy! How come a car like this is yours?”

“Well, she isn’t paid for yet, but I’m working on that. Want to take her for a spin?”

I had an ulterior motive for letting Harvey take the wheel and I was correct in guessing that when he’d driven her, he would be unable to refuse any request I made. When we got back from the drive, I was proved right. So far, my plan was working well.

The next day I drove to college. It was hardly any distance, but I had a reason. The little car proved nimble and was a delight to steer through the rush hour traffic. I had often parked Mom’s car on the driveway and once I got used to the stick shift, I felt completely at home in her. Once lectures were finished, Alice and I left the building together and I led the way to where Athena was parked up.

“Where are you going?” The girl looked confused.

I merely smiled in reply and unlocked the door for her. “Get in.”

“What?” She obeyed although clearly mystified.

“Don’t you like my car?”

“Your car?”

“The very same! She was christened Athena by her last owner and it’s unlucky to change the name, so that’s what I call her too.”

“It’s… she’s… wonderful. I love the colour.”

“Me too! Now, on Saturday you and I are going out. There’s a record hop across town.”

“Are we?”

“We are. Have you anything suitable to wear? A poodle skirt? A swing dress?”

“No” she said sadly. “I’m hopeless at dancing. They tried to teach us a quick step and waltz at school, but I never could get it. So, the only frocks I’ve ever bothered to buy apart from those for every day are some dresses for Sunday best.”

“That’s all about to change. We’re going shopping.”

Ten minutes later we entered the store I had decided on as the likeliest one to suit our purpose. We soon found a clothing stand exhibiting a range of party dresses and spent some happy minutes going through the entire rail. The assistant came over and under her guidance we came up with three or four possibles worth trying. Alice took them with her behind the curtain. She liked them all but kept returning to one in pink gingham, with full skirt and halter top. I could tell she had set her heart on it.

Once it was decided on, however, Alice started to lose confidence. “It’s gorgeous and I love the material, but… don’t you think it draws attention to my hips.”

“That’s the idea. It makes your figure seem curvier and that’s bang on trend.”

“Look at the price tag!”

“Don’t worry about that. I’m paying.”

“Oh no. I can’t let you do that.”

“Yes, you can. I will most likely ask you to lend it me to wear myself some time.”

There was only one problem that I could see with her choice. Alice’s bust didn’t fill out the top of the dress sufficiently. To remedy this failing, however, I thought I remembered enough about the way Rachel had padded out mine, when I’d no clothes to wear and had borrowed some of hers.

Back in Alice’s apartment I put theory into practice. Achieving a natural enhancement of the bustline requires careful positioning of padding in the bodice of the dress. I handed Alice some tissues and wads of cotton wool to insert, but it was soon clear achieving an acceptable outline was much harder than expected.

“This is hopeless. I’m all lumps and bumps” she cried disconsolately.

Alice had removed her bra when trying the dress on to prevent its straps being visible. I suggested that the lack of its support might be compounding the problem.

“Perhaps it would help if you wore a brassiere. Do you have any with removable straps?”

Luckily Alice had such a one. “It’s part of a set. I’ve never worn it as it’s much too pretty for everyday use.”

“Show me.”

The girl retrieved the lingerie from her dresser, and I quickly unclipped the unwanted shoulder straps and handed it back to her.

“Thanks” she remarked casually and then without the smallest hesitation she unzipped and dropped the top of the bodice. Shocked I could only gape with my mouth open wide in the most uncouth fashion. I had just time to close it before it was noticed when she looked up to see me staring.

“What?” Then, indicating her breasts, “I know. I hate their being so small!’ Unconcernedly she positioned the modified bra across her chest and turned so I could hook the back.

With the dress’s bodice once more in place Alice made another attempt to pad out her bust.

“No good!” she exclaimed and thrust the materials into my hands. “You try!”

It seemed I had no choice. With a great deal of trepidation, I set about positioning the padding. After considerable squeezing and tweaking of her chest I managed to produce a satisfactory result.

Observing the starry-eyed expression on Alice’s face, I guessed that the sensations which had sprung from my vigorous manipulation had been the source of some innocent enjoyment for her. Alice’s next remark removed any doubt.

“Oh, that felt so good” she gasped. “They may be small, but they work!”

I was lost for words. Apparently, an even greater degree of intimacy now existed between us than before. My attempt to cool the relationship between us was already beginning to unravel.

Nooo!

Diva Dismayed:Chapter 29 – A Merry Dance

Once Alice’s outfit had been finalised, I went to seek advice from Rachel. I was trying not to worry unduly over the potential damage I might have just done to my campaign. She greeted me with a hug and a cryptic “You’re late back. I assume you were off somewhere in that sexy little automobile.”

“I wish I had been! I’ve been trying to disentangle myself from my clingy friend and it isn’t working out too well.” I explained what had just been happening and how I’d managed to induce Harvey and Alice to spend an evening together.

My friend offered me sympathy but little in the way of counsel. “Well, I applaud your attempt, sweetie, but good luck with that one. Affairs of the heart are never straightforward, at least in my experience. Now! When do I get to ride in that car of yours?”

Accordingly, after we’d eaten, we made our way down to where Athena was parked.

“Oh, she’s such a dainty little thing. You’re so lucky!” My friend was full of admiration and though it was quite dark she insisted on my putting the top down and taking her for a drive. The downtown streets were almost deserted, and we spent a happy half-hour exploring what the little girl could do.

“I’m glad you have found such a good friend in Pete” Rachel mused when we had returned to my apartment. “It was an unpromising beginning, but I’m impressed. You seem to have a knack of bringing out the best in people.”

After a moment’s thought, she added “Except me, of course.” Then she put her arms round me and whispered, “I just want your body!”

When I left for work the next day, Rachel was still sleeping. I had a lot on my mind. The momentous evening out with Alice and Harvey was looming and I had a crucial decision to make. What would I wear to the dance myself? This was an even trickier selection than usual. A ‘girl’ has standards after all, but while I couldn’t bring myself to choose something which was too frumpy, I also knew that I mustn’t upstage Alice.
Eventually I settled on a pretty frock I hadn’t worn before. It was in an ivory material with a muted pattern. As a nod to making the older girl the centre of attention, I decided to forgo adding the tiered petticoat underneath which would have otherwise made the full skirt flare fashionably to its fullest extent. Naturally, Alice’s dress was benefitting from the uplift such an underskirt provided so she ought to stand out from the crowd, literally!

Saturday came around all too quickly and as soon as I returned from work that day, the bulk of my time and energy was devoted to beautifying my companion. Despite receiving the equivalent of a complete salon makeover, she had worried herself into a highly nervous state and I needed to keep reassuring her that she was looking good. When I was satisfied that every detail of her toilette had been perfected, I quickly attended to my own. We were running late when we set off for the venue where the record hop was to take place.

The evening had been organised by a church youth group. Consequently, the advertised start and finish times were quite early, and the music was anything but loud. I guessed that the organisers were overly concerned that nothing unseemly took place under their auspices, but despite that caution, there remained plenty of fun to be had. By the time Alice and I made our entrance the hall had filled up and the event was in full swing. Fortunately, Harvey had arrived before us and had secured a corner table. He brought us each a coke and some complimentary nibbles, which I found myself devouring hungrily. I’d had nothing to eat since lunch.

There was plenty happening in the hall and so lots to see and talk merrily about. It would have been easy for Harvey and me to monopolise the conversation in our familiar way, but I took care that Alice wasn’t excluded. After a while she overcame her jitters and relaxed. I even tried to look pleased when he asked her to dance before me though it went against my nature.

The girl’s response was less than encouraging. “Oh dear. I’m hopeless. I don’t really know how.”

He was not to be denied, however. “It’s easy. The music on this one isn’t too fast. I’ll show you.”

Watching them together I could see that they made a nice couple. Idly I wondered whether he liked the way she was beginning to depend on him already. The idea represented a sacrifice for me if it was so. I had enjoyed being first with the guy. Cautiously I congratulated myself that my scheming appeared to be bearing some early fruit.

Sitting alone at the table I was not left long to my own devices. A tall guy from across the room walked over and asked me up. I complied without hesitation. It was only polite to accept. It wasn’t that I was impressed by his blond good looks at all. Well, okay, maybe just a fraction. All right, so he had that effect on me. I got to know what females meant when they declared ‘he made me feel like a real girl’. This one really did! Anyway, it was flattering that I should get asked by a stranger so soon.

After three dances I returned to my seat, just a little out of breath. I was beginning to regret my choice of dress. Its skirts had been flying up as I turned and twirled. That was okay, I didn’t mind showing a little leg, but without a petticoat to damp its rotation, the frock was flashing a good deal more than that. Also, the bodice was cut quite low, so that my heaving chest drew attention to my swollen bust. I really didn’t welcome the number of stares I seemed to be getting.

Harvey grabbed my hand and took me out to the middle of the floor. Though I hadn’t even had a chance to sit down, I was delighted. I felt much happier partnering him. He proved to have a great sense of time, which was all a girl needed to enjoy herself. The music chosen by the person spinning the discs was up-tempo, and I could really let myself go.

Towards the end of the song, however, I began to be concerned. He and I had definitely ‘clicked’ to an extent that was causing me concern and was not what I had intended. I decided that I needed to try and cool things off and when he asked me for the usual second dance, I shook my head, saying that I needed to take a break. We returned to our table.

For the reminder of the evening Harvey danced more with Alice than with me. To bring that about took a little adroit manoeuvring on my part as well as some self-restraint. The attentions of the blond youth helped me distance myself. I have to admit that I derived as much enjoyment from jiving with him as with anyone, so all in all I had a pretty good time.

At the end of the night, however, I found it necessary to be on my guard again. This was when the music for the customary slow dance number was announced, often the time when who was going home with whom was settled. Out of the tail of my eye I could see that Harvey’s gaze was fixed in my direction so, in panic, I looked over to the blond guy and when I’d caught his eye, gave him my best smile. My forwardnrss was rewarded and before I knew it, I found myself being pressed firmly against his muscular body, rotating slowly in the middle of a throng of similarly positioned couples. The lights had been dimmed but I glimpsed Harvey and Alice also locked together before my attention was fully occupied by my own situation.

That sight gave me cause for satisfaction, but this could only be indulged briefly before I needed to concentrate on repelling the advances of my dance partner. The nickname by which these slow dances were generally known certainly lived up to its reputation when dancing with the blond guy. If I moved his hand upwards from my butt once I did so twenty times. While what he was doing actually felt nice, a girl has principles to maintain! I didn’t even know the boy’s name, for heaven’s sake!

At the end of the first one of the obligatory two slow dances, I had the intention of returning to return to my seat. However, I saw that Harvey and Alice were about to do the same thing. Blondie was tagging along behind me, and it occurred to me that we might end up exchanging partners for the next song. I took alarm that the progress which my two friends’ relationship had made thus far might be undermined.

Thinking quickly, I turned to my late partner. “Let’s dance this one, as well?”

Encouraged by my apparent willingness to indulge in another bout of wrestling, this time his wandering paws became even more of a handful, which of course is what he was intent on grabbing! For my part I felt I had little choice but to put up only a token resistance, having ‘asked for it’, so to speak. It wasn’t that I wanted to give him free reign to do what he liked. Well... Actually, it probably was. When I found myself pressed hard against his groin, feelings began to be awakened in me that I would be ashamed to account for. Wild imaginings filled my brain. Fortunately, we were in a crowded dance hall, so nothing could really get out of hand. No pun intended!

My ordeal (or was it gratification?) seemed to go on for ever, but when the music eventually came to a close, I pushed the guy away with mixed feelings of reluctance and relief. He told me that they called him Dick, which seemed to fit. I didn’t give my tormentor my own name but remembered to thank him politely. I can guess what he thought of me but didn’t really care. On returning demurely to my friends it was pleasing to see the connection which was developing between them. On the spur of the moment one of those impulses occurred to me. This one seemed to be entirely without flaw.

“Harvey. Would you mind giving Alice a ride home? I have to call in at some place along the way and I don’t know how long I’ll be there.”

Alice looked rather nonplussed at my statement, but her new escort was all smiles. “Sure thing!”

I watched with smug satisfaction as he handed her into his vehicle. This was brilliant!

The call I had to make wasn’t entirely fictitious. To salve my conscience, I stopped at an all-night gas station. I took my time while I was there and asked the attendant to check the oil and water, and clean the windshield. I gave the man a tip and then continued slowly on my way home, congratulating myself upon my resourcefulness.

In the space of a single evening each of my objectives had been achieved apparently. Harvey now had an object of romantic interest other than myself. I felt a small pang about this loss but I knew it was something I had to undergo. Similarly, Alice had a worthy recipient for her affectionate attentions, so I would be able to relax around her. Hopefully, she also might be reassured about her sexuality. Finally, when I’d left the couple, they had been provided with an ideal opportunity for their friendship to develop into something more. It had all seemed too easy.

What could possibly go wrong?

Diva Dismayed: Chapter 30 – Surprises

These happy musings of mine continued while I started to ready myself for bed. I knew Rachel was working nights, so I was unable to share my seeming triumph with her just yet. I hung my dress in the closet and donned my nightie. I’d just returned to the living room to make myself a drink when I was surprised to hear a faint tap on my door. My nightdress was quite sheer, so I was in no fit state to answer it, needing my robe to make myself presentable, but it was in the bedroom. Imagine my horror when the door handle turned. I hadn’t secured the lock for the night and stood transfixed. It was as if I was in a bad dream.

Gradually the door was opened bit by bit by whoever was there. My heart was pounding in my chest, and I felt completely vulnerable. Then it was wide open and who should be revealed there but… Alice.

“Only me!” she faltered.

“Oh, you gave me a fright! Don’t ever do that again.”

The girl was attired only in her lingerie, with a modicum of decency provided by her petticoat.

“Why are you dressed like that.? Close the door, quickly!” What if anyone came past?

As expected, her explanation was convoluted. “As soon as I got back here, I took off that heavenly new dress and hung it up because I didn’t want it to get creased, but I couldn’t bear to remove this as well.” She indicated her gauzy tiered underskirt. “I’ve never worn one before and it makes me feel like a princess. Doesn’t it move dreamily?”

She gave a twirl and the petticoat obliged by flying up around her waist; something I really didn’t need to witness just then! The girl was oblivious to my embarrassment, however. She appeared to be in a state of near ecstasy.

“When I heard you come in, I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep until we’d talked, with so much happening this evening! Please, say I can stay here with you, and then we can talk all night. I know that you and Rachel often do.”

Gosh! Really?

“Oh, please say yes!”

I never could resist the sort of appealing look Alice was giving me, though I knew that this time it spelled trouble.

“For a little while, perhaps, but not all night.”

The girl looked so crestfallen that I had to make light of my refusal. “These beds are so narrow we’d get no sleep.”

“But I know that you and Rachel…”

Her protest triggered the thought that the latter might very well look in on me on return from her night shift at 6am and that stiffened my resolve. No matter how tolerant of my idiosyncrasies she might be, it would be difficult to explain Alice’s presence in my sleeping quarters at that hour.

“Oh, that’s different. That has only happened when she nodded off and she’s such a heavy sleeper.”

My lame attempt to pass off our indiscretion clearly cut little ice. The girl was already calmly unclipping her garters. As if mesmerised I found myself watching her helplessly while she performed this operation.

From being comfortably in charge of Alice and my relationship, in the last minutes I seemed to have lost control. No doubt this was the penalty of over-confidence. Meanwhile, her own attention was fixed on my body, or to be more precise, my bust.

“I can’t get over how good your figure is. Your waist is tiny, yet you will never need to pad out the bodice of your dress” she concluded ruefully. “No wonder you have taken up modelling.”

I could have contradicted her conclusion, remembering when Rachel had performed that very operation, but I didn’t want to go into the ramifications of how I’d arrived here without a change of clothes. Neither did I wish her to be privy to my usual practice of night-time corseting. She knew far too much about me as it was.

“You’re already changed, so I’d better undress” my uninvited guest exclaimed.

I was about to protest but she blithely continued “I hate to take this petticoat off, but it will be a squeeze in the bed with the two of us, as it is. Three would definitely be a crowd!”

I couldn’t help but laugh at this, until the import of her words penetrated. In the bed?

“Now, I would be more comfortable if I take this off too.” Her hands reached around her back to unclip her bra.

In my panic over this suggestion, I was galvanised into action. “No need for that. It’s not to be all night, remember.”

Deeming this the lesser evil, I quickly lay down and got under the bedsheet myself. “Come on!”

Happily, the girl followed without divesting herself of any more of her scanty clothing. It took more than a little readjustment of our limbs before we were settled.

“This is cozy” my bedfellow giggled. “It will be better if I turn so, and… yes… I’ll put my leg across yours. That feels nice. Are you comfortable too?”

“Fine” I gasped, though in truth comfort was the least of my concerns. The feel of her soft thigh over mine was giving rise to a whole raft of sensations I needed to ignore!

It felt nice to have her body pressed against me, and she smelled nice, and that made it torture. I didn’t know how long my self-control could last in such close proximity, so I knew I had to move things along as quickly as possible.

“Tell me about this evening” I demanded. “I can see you’re bursting to share it all.”

“Oh yes, it was wonderful!”

Alice spent the next twenty minutes detailing the series of overpowering emotions she had gone through earlier; anxiety, embarrassment, awkwardness, relief, pleasure, delight and rapture. I wondered how one person could experience so much in such a short space of time. My hope that relating it all to me would calm her was unfounded.

As she recounted each of these stages, the girl pressed herself closer to me, if that were possible, gripping me more and more tightly with her thigh. It was almost as if I had become a kind of substitute for the guy himself!

By the time she arrived at the point where Harvey had kissed her goodnight, Alice had almost reached a state of rapture.
“At first I thought he wasn’t going to, and then I began to wonder if we might, and then I felt sure he would… and when he did, I thought we would never stop.”

She fell silent for a spell before continuing.

“He’s so wonderful. He’s thoughtful, and kind, and clever, and so good-looking. I want to have his babies.”

I couldn’t disagree, but there was a sentiment I would always be a stranger to!

“You must be exhausted. I think it’s time for sleep.”

“Oh, I couldn’t sleep. I’m too excited.”

There was a pause, however, while she reflected.

Then, “Hold on to my waist as tight as you can. Now I just have to shut my eyes and I can imagine you are him.”

I obeyed, at a loss how to bring this encounter to a close.

“Oh, yes!” she sighed.

We lay still for a few minutes. I was desperate to have her return to her own quarters, but it became clear that she would need encouragement to do so. I noticed that her breathing had become regular and heavy.

“Alice?”

I shook her but she merely snuggled her head into the pillow.

“Alice!”

Try as I might, I couldn’t wake her. It was hopeless. There was only one thing left for me to do. I slid out of bed and put on my robe. Taking my purse from the table, l quietly left the apartment and climbed the stair to the floor above. I let myself into Rachel’s room. Peace at last!
My friend wouldn’t be back until the early morning and no doubt she would find me here, deep in the arms of slumber which hopefully would be welcome. At the very least her bed would be warm!

It was nearly noon when I awoke. Rachel was lying awake beside me. I opened my eyes to see her smiling face.

“This is a nice surprise” she murmured. “Were you missing me?”

“And how!” I laughed. “Actually, I just couldn’t get rid of Alice!”

“That is no surprise. The girl is a handful!”

Rachel made me lie still while she got up and put some coffee on.

“Now” she declared. “I have a surprise for you as well. No, two actually.”

I waited expectantly.

“First, I’ve found us an apartment. It’s in a lovely part of town and has everything, including two good-sized bedrooms. It wouldn’t cost us any more than we are paying in total here.”

I sprang out of bed. “Sounds fabulous! But, do we need two bedrooms?” I had a momentary vision of allowing Alice occupy the other room and shuddered. With an effort I dismissed it from my mind.

“That’s the second surprise.”

My lover looked deeply into my eyes. “What would you say, if I told you I was pregnant?”

“You’re pregnant?”

She nodded. “I’ve tested myself, and it’s definite. We’re having a baby!”

I started to dance around the room. This was incredible!

“Oh, I’m so pleased for us... but… how is that possible?”

“You need me to explain?”

“No, silly, but with me, the way I am, I thought it could never happen.”

“Neither did I, but we were both wrong!”

“You know what this means, don’t you?”

“What?”

“I’m going to have to make an honest woman of you! Marry me!”

“I thought you’d never ask” and Rachel burst into tears, but tears of happiness.

I was sobbing as well.

I guess it was my hormones!