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CHANGING OF THE GUARD
By Bea
Gentle Reader. This story is for over-eighteens only. It is also a low-key,
hetero, transvestite fantasy so, if you're looking for meatier stuff, I'd
pass on by.
. . .
I walked around the apartment, nervously surveying everything. Denise wasn't
due for about another five hours or so, but this was the first time I'd ever
cooked for her. I had dusted and vacuumed. Polished the brass figurines.
Washed the windows and the kitchen floor. Had five nice CD discs (romantic)
on the player - just waiting to be switched "on". But I continued to feel a
strange sense of unease. Had the feeling that I should be doing something.
My preference when cooking is to have dinner made up of a number of special
courses, preceded by hors d'oeuvres and, naturally, ended with a magnificent
dessert. I was trying as hard as I could to overcome this proclivity - but
I felt that to do so just didn't seem right. I also felt another spasm of
discomfort - put it down to not having lots of flowers artistically placed
around the flat.
I meandered into the kitchen. The sirloin steaks were still marinating in the
dish - my own special marinade. The salad was in the crisper. The designer
ice cream was in the freezer. I wandered back into the dining area.
Rearranged one of the flowers in the single bowl I was going to use as the
centerpiece. Checked the crystal glassware for spots. Hoped the room and
table settings would reflect the young American bachelor - you know? Some
attention to the more feminine aspects of life - but not that much, o.k?
I remembered occasionally to practice my walk as I moved around, spreading my
feet so that they moved parallel to each other, about six inches apart. My
normal tendency is to take small steps, placing each foot almost directly
ahead of the other - a rather effeminate way of walking, - one that had been
drummed into me through childhood - and, accordingly a habit very difficult
to get out of. I'd noticed the differences between men and women's foot
placement when walking on a beach some years before.
Until then, I had never understood why Mummy was so adamant about the way I
walked. Then I saw that women's tracks in the sand were almost one straight
line, whereas a man's tracks showed two parallel tracks. At that point I'd
finally understood what she was up to. But conscious of this as I was, it
was still a difficult characteristic to change - almost impossible when I
lived with her, though recently I had been trying to practice at least a few
times a week.
I checked my hands. I have small, well shaped fingers and clearly defined
oval nails. The only problem I had was the fact that my nails were
manicured, and longer than that worn by most males. I had been swithering
about filing them down for a couple of days now - even removing the clear
polish I was using, but though I had the feeling that mother wouldn't be
visiting me within the next week or so, I had been wrong before - and didn't
fancy the hell that she would raise if my nails weren't being kept to her
standards. On top of that, it was one of the conditions she had demanded
when she agreed to me getting six months of freedom.
Finally, I sighed. Decided to make something to eat for myself. I really
had no appetite - was too nervous about my date later on - but thought that
the preparation and eating of lunch would pass some time, if nothing else.
But my thoughts were interrupted. The doorbell rang, scaring me for a
second. Probably a neighbor looking to borrow a cup of sugar, or something
like that I thought. I went to the door and looked through the peep-hole. Oh
Jesus!
Two women stood there. Both dressed fashionably in similar matching tailored
suits under open fur coats, small straw hats, high heels. One of them was my
mother. The other was someone I'd never met before. Mother had an
assortment of wrapped parcels. One under her arm, and carrying others in one
of these plastic carry bags that department stores provide.
Hurriedly, I looked around for an apron - couldn't find one. Then I
remembered that I'd hidden them in my bedroom, not wanting Denise to see
them. I knew that I didn't have enough time to go and get one. Even through
the distorted peep-hole viewer, I could see that my mother was getting
impatient. Quickly, I opened the door.
Mummy swept in, her companion trailing behind her. When she saw that I
wasn't wearing an apron a quick glance immediately shot some disapproval my
way. I got out of it though. Opening my arms, I moved towards her. Gave her
a peck on the cheek.
"Mummy! How nice to see you! You just caught me in time - was heading out
for a little shopping and lunch. Another few minutes and I would have been
gone!"
I made a quiet inward whistle of relief, she was so obviously placated by my
lie. She returned my kiss, careful of her makeup. Then stood back and
surveyed me for a second. She turned to her friend. "Marjorie? This is
Paul, my son. Paul? This is Mrs. Denton, a new friend of mine .. Now say
hello, and take our coats - there's a lamb. I'd KILL for a nice cup of tea."
I shook hands with Mrs. Denton. She was of an age with Mummy, in fairly good
shape. A cautious look to her eyes, but pleasantly featured. Nicely made
up. Something about her reminded me of someone, but I just couldn't figure
out who. As I took their coats through to the bedroom they moved to the hall
mirror and stood together unpinning their hats, examining their makeup and
fluffing up their hair lightly with their fingers.
While I was in the bedroom, I took the opportunity to put on one of the
aprons I'd hidden there. For a second I thought of a fairly masculine one
I'd made just the week before - but decided against it. I didn't want to get
too 'frilly' though, so discarded the thought of wearing any of full ones I
owned. I settled for a half apron, a nice light floral material with pretty
lace ties and matching trim on the pocket. Quickly, I tied it around my
waist, checked my back to see that the bow was big enough and even, then went
to rejoin my company.
Mummy gave a slight nod of approval, but made no comment. Mrs Denton on the
other hand showed a little amazement. "My! What a pretty apron." She said,
coming forward to touch it. "I haven't seen one like that in years. Didn't
know they made them any more."
"Oh, I don't think they do." Mummy said. "Paul makes all of his own aprons.
You should see some of the others he has made - I mean gorgeous! Full, you
know? All ruffles and tiers. Made an absolutely impossible one - a sort of
pleated chiffon... But that's for special occasions, right Paul?"
"Oh Mummy!" I remonstrated, blushing. "Mrs Denton doesn't want to hear all
that stuff!"
But Mrs Denton didn't mind at all. "Oh my goodness! I think it's just
wonderful to see a young man who's not afraid to put something pretty on. I
mean, they're all so frightened nowadays that someone won't think they're
macho! So stupid!"
"Well. Paul's not stupid, at least not that way. Right little lamb?" Mummy
asked. "But be a dear and get that tea on .. ?"
I almost curtseyed! After nearly five months on my own, hardly seeing Mummy
more than once or twice a month in that period, I had just nearly performed
what was second nature to me while I lived in her house - and we were alone
together. It had to be the bloody apron, I thought, really grateful that
Mrs. Denton had missed it.
But Mummy hadn't. I think she saw the motion I made, and was pleased that
the old training was still in effect. She smiled, but made a pretended meow
of disappointment at my success in stopping the motion. Wagged her finger at
me playfully. "See? You can't deny what's natural to you, can you?"
I didn't answer, just sighed inwardly in frustration. Went and put a kettle
of water on for tea. Put a lace doily on a china serving plate. Put a
selection of cookies up. Looked out some of my best china. Dusted the cups
and saucers with a tea towel. Put them on a tray. Put the sugar bowl and
creamer on the tray. The water was just coming to a boil so I made the tea.
Put a cozy around the pot, put it on the tray and returned to the living room
where my guests were sitting.
I sensed that Mummy wasn't overly happy, but didn't know how to placate her.
I tried though, being as feminine as I could in my actions and demeanor. It
didn't help much. She was looking at me, a mean expression starting to show.
She finally had to get it off her chest. "I know our visit was unexpected -
I wasn't totally surprised at how you're dressed - but you could be a little
more hospitable - yes? I mean, you had enough time while the water was
coming to the boil. Don't you CARE how you appear around me any more? Do you
want Marjorie to think I taught you nothing?"
I was stupid enough to open my mouth, soundlessly, in an indication of my
despair - I knew perfectly well what she was telling me to do. She arched
her eyebrows at me imperiously. "I think I've been very patient and
understanding with you.. don't you agree?"
'Oh God!' I thought despairingly to myself, but didn't allow any of my inner
turmoil to show.
"Yes. I'm sorry, Mummy." I said. "I really am. Would you mind taking over
as hostess? I'll only be a moment."
She nodded approvingly, her expression softening. "Yes. That's a nice pot
of tea. I'm sure we can manage - cream and sugar Marjorie? - Until you
return - acting properly?"
I went into my bedroom. Knew that I had to get rid of my guests before
Denise arrived. There was still plenty of time, but the sooner I went along
with Mummy, the sooner that she and her new friend would leave - maybe I
could then get back to the way I wanted Denise to meet me. I opened the
right hand side of the closet. Examined what was there. Made my selection.
Less than ten minutes later, I rejoined the two women. A tight grey woolen
skirt that fell modestly below my knees. Tan stockings. White pumps with a
two inch heel. A crisp white, long sleeved blouse - shirt front with large
'v' collars, opened to show just a touch of my lace edged slip. Ruffled at
the cuffs. A single strand of black pearls. Earrings to match. My
'feathered' hair moved over to a different part - held in place by a black
barrette. Just a touch of cosmetics - lipstick, blusher, eyeliner and
mascara - the absolute bare minimum of perfume. Some tissues in my bra. Not
enough, mind you, to 'over - present' my bust - just a device to fill what
otherwise would have been empty cups. A frilly 'hostess' apron to replace
the previous one.
Mummy nodded approvingly, and turned to her friend. Marjorie looked at me,
the question obvious on her face.
"Paul does look much prettier now. I would never have guessed." she said.
Mummy gave a tight smile, pride beaming from her.
"When he's dressed properly, he answers to 'Priscilla' - it's far more
suitable. Don't you think?"
Marjorie coughed politely into her fist. Fluttered her eyelashes at me
provokingly. "That is a pretty name." She agreed. "You don't mind?" She
asked me.
I smiled, and nodded my head. "Of course not Marjorie. May I call you
Marjorie?"
She simpered at me. "Oh! Absolutely! I hope we will be good friends..
Priscilla."
How can I put it? To the best of my memory, Mummy never taught me how to act
like a girl. But I defy any male. Be made to put on a skirt and blouse over
lacy silk underthings. Put a pair of 'heels' on over nylons. Make it a
tight skirt. Wear these, and other feminine clothes over a period of time -
see what happens to your 'manly' way of walking then.
I'm telling you. Your stride will get shorter. The high heeled shoes will
have two effects. Your leg muscles will tighten up as your feet come down on
the floor more firmly. You will develop a little 'sway' to your backside.
This may sound ridiculous, but it's true. Then, add a filmy blouse with long
sleeves. Make it transparent enough that the lace of your lingerie is almost
visible. Take note of your arms. Do they now swing back and forward as you
walk, or do they take the more feminine attributes - not swinging so
aggressively - hanging passive and docile as you move along? Now? Sit down.
See if you don't pull the hem of your skirt down when it rides up above your
knees.
But that is all beside the point. Now walking, talking, dressed like a
woman. Smelling, acting, like a woman, I had joined Mummy and Marjorie in
more than just the physical sense. I was now 'accepted'. By shucking my male
clothes and persona, I was now just another woman - their 'hostess' - and
they seemed to relax now that I had become one of their own.
But where time had dragged before their arrival, it was now flying. I poured
myself a cup of tea and joined in their conversation - primarily the level of
service one got in department stores nowadays - and the cost of clothes and
cosmetics. Nothing of much import. But every time I caught a glimpse of the
clock, it seemed like another fifteen minutes had gone by.
Marjorie started pressing until I had to show her around the flat. She was
very complimentary about my color schemes and the fabrics I had chosen.
"It's so nice," she gushed "to meet a young .. eh.. man with such nice
taste. Are these the drapes your mother said you'd sewn?" Blushing, I
admitted it.
In my bedroom, I blushed even more. Like an idiot I had left the aprons I
had made my choice from, lying on top of the bed. She pursed her mouth in
silent approval, picked up one of the filmier ones and put it against her
body. Checked her reflection in the mirror. "This is really gorgeous!
Would you.. I mean, would you mind.. Could you make me one like this? I'd
pay you of course...?"
And I blushed at her compliments. Said that I'd be glad to make her one.
Even left the possibility open that I'd make some for a friend or two.
When we got back to the dining room, I was given a terrible shock. Mummy
was busy in the kitchen making lunch! It was close to two-thirty. I tried
to console myself with the fact that I still had about three hours before
Denise arrived - plenty of time, but I still had to get rid of them, get the
place cleaned up, get showered and changed. I started to perspire slightly.
Settling into a relationship now, the three of us worked together and
prepared lunch, then sat down in the nook - Mummy didn't want to be a 'pest'
- so the nook was preferable to the dining room "and it's much cosier. We
can have a nice chat, just the three of us. And are we having a guest for
dinner?" She added coyly, though turning away so that an answer wasn't
required..
And, after eating, I started to clean off the table. Marjorie offered to
help, but I smiled and said I'd manage. As I came back to the table, she
beamed at me. "I must say, " she said. "I've never met a young man like
you before. So well behaved. So good in things that matter!" She turned to
Mummy. "You really are to be complimented. How did you..?"
Mummy thought for a second or two, her face softening with pleasurable
memory. It wasn't too long before she told Marjorie what she wanted to know.
"He was always kind of delicate. I had such a time keeping him from hurting
himself. Wasn't one of these horrible little noisy boys.."
"And they are awful! Aren't they?" Marjorie chimed in. But how could you
stop him from..?"
"Well, with his delicate health, I was given permission to educate him at
home. I had a series of lady tutors for him. Told them that I wanted his
education to be well rounded - not just these horrible masculine subjects
like math and engineering - but sewing and home economics, cooking.
Practical things. How to do my hair. How to do his own.."
"Do his own? But wouldn't it be too short for..?"
"Oh! I hated those boy's haircuts. Didn't cut his hair much at all. Then
one of the ladies complained that it was too long to keep neat. I don't know
where she got the idea from to do what she did. I just may have told her
that I hired his tutors based on their intelligence - and, if she couldn't
figure out some way to make it presentable...?"
She paused. Smiled reflectively. "He looked so pretty after she set his
hair for him... I knew it wasn't quite.. proper, of course... but he raised
such a fuss that I couldn't very well let him think that he could tell me
what was what. After that was clear, she showed him how to do it. I'd tease
him about being a little boy with girl's hair, but if he reacted too much.
Why, I'd make him wear panties - or a ribbon in his hair - perfume."
She looked away from Marjorie. Turned to me. "I was just thinking about your
tenth birthday party," she said to me. "Wasn't that fun?"
She ignored my pleading glance, and turned back to Marjorie.
"Oh. There definitely were other times when he was naughty - arguing with
me, not doing as he was told, wanting to have his own way .. You know?"
Marjorie nodded in agreement. "Yes - and kids get worse as they get older,
don't they?"
Mummy reflected for a moment. "Truthfully? I never found that to be the
case. Of course, the party I threw for him that year might have had
something to do with that - let him see that I was a reasonable parent, but
that I wouldn't tolerate him being naughty."
"What was he doing?" Marjorie asked.
"Oh. I don't remember all of his escapades. It was fifteen years ago. We
were on vacation and he was like most children - very good at annoying their
mummies. I may have been upset that the school authorities were demanding
that he start going to an accredited school when we returned home, but the
one thing that really upset me was his choosing playmates that I didn't care
for - a gang of three noisy, rowdy, little boys. I mean he had lots of
little girls that he could - and did - play with but, against all my wishes -
against all my warnings, he continued to sneak off once or twice a week to
be with these little hoodlums."
My mind flashed pictures of the three little boys - ex friends. Hoodlums
indeed! Just three little kids - wanting to play cowboys and indians, or
spacemen, practicing swear words and spitting - but I was jolted back to the
present with mother's continuing anecdote.
"Then, when I was making up the list of friends for his party, he insisted on
having these boys attend." She pursed her lips. "I did try and tell him
that these were not suitable playmates for him - and that if he persisted in
asking them, he would be hurting my feelings terribly."
She gave me a sidelong glance. "But he didn't care. Wanted these boys.
Demanded that they come to his party! Had little tantrums! Stamped his
feet! Cried like a little girl! In fact it was then that I got the idea.
Marjorie gave a sympathetic snort. "You didn't give in to him, I hope?"
Mummy smiled. "Of course I did! What's a woman to do when her little man
gets all macho - making demands - saying what he is and isn't going to do?
Of course I invited his little boy friends."
Marjorie shot a look of unadulterated sympathy towards Mummy, then a glance
of admonition at me. I ignored it - for I knew how the story turned out.
Mummy continued. "It was just a little party. Four little girls, the three
boys - and him." She tittered. "But I called one of the girl's .. What was
her name again.. Toni? Yes, that's right. Toni was her name. Asked her if
she'd mind coming to the party in jeans and a shirt.."
"But didn't she mind?" Marjorie asked.
"Oh no! She was a real tomboy. Just loved wearing 'rough' clothes. I
really liked her. She was so much fun! Just like a real boy!""
Marjorie looked puzzled. "But wouldn't that cause an imbalance? I mean,
four little boys - and a tomboy in jeans. Just three little girls?"
Mummy laid a hand softly on Marjorie's arm. Smiled at her.
"Well. It may sound very naughty. But I really had to, you know?"
"Had to what?" Marjorie asked, eyes gleaming.
Mummy smiled. "Balance it up, one way or the other." Turned to me.
"Remember how you fought? How you argued? How you cried?"
I smiled an adult smile, in embarrassed acknowledgement of my childish
immaturity in having argued with Mummy. Looked down at the table. She
turned to Marjorie again.
"I went and bought him the prettiest little party dress. Pale yellow. White
lace shawl at the collar and hem. Little puffy sleeves. A pink satin sash
tied with a big bow at the back. A cute little petticoat. Panties. Even a
little training bra. White cotton socks. Pink patent leather shoes. Permed
his hair in the cutest style, and put a pink ribbon in it to match his sash.
He was so pretty! Then I made him stand in the hall in his dress. Greet all
of his little friends as they came in. Made him wear it for the whole
party."
Marjorie flashed me a 'serve you right' look. But was smiling now. "How did
his little friends - the boys? React?"
"At first, I think they were kind of .. frightened? .. Sorry for him? I
don't know. But you know? Feed boys cake, lemonade, party games? I think
they got caught up in the demands from their stomachs. Then, when I put the
music on for dancing.."
I remembered the total humiliation. Actually being led onto the dance floor
by Toni - and having to dance the girl's part - the only part she would let
me do. Watching my friends nervously ask the other girls to dance - then
gradually forget about me as they started jumping around to the music. Then
there I was, dancing with the other girls while Toni and the boys played some
rough game.
"And.." Mother continued. "You know how children love to give each other
'birthday spanks'?"
Marjorie nodded.
"Toni - would you believe this? Only eleven, if she was that much? Made him
go over her knees, lifted his dress - and spanked him on his panties! In
front of everyone! Then held him there for everyone else to take their turn.
It was so funny! He even cried - such a sissy! I mean they didn't spank him
that hard - and he didn't seem to care that the three other girls were all
jealous of his satin panties! So then Toni suggested that I put makeup on
him to cover up his tear marks! Pancake, lipstick, blush! Even a little
mascara! Honestly! It was a riot! - I even got a little evening bag and made
him carry it for the rest of the afternoon - to hold his makeup, you know?"
Marjorie glanced at me again. But no rancor in her glance this time -
justice had obviously been done. "What happened to the little boys?" She
asked Mummy.
Mummy shrugged. "I don't know. They seemed to have a good time. Toni sort
of joined them - like one of the boys. That's when she changed his name from
Paul to 'Priscilla', because about then, he seemed to have, you know,
'joined' the girls. Fitted right in, giggling and laughing, letting them use
his makeup, freshening up his own lipstick in his compact mirror. I never
saw these boys again after they left."
She turned and looked at me again. Smiled. "But he knew how to get back
into my good books. Really pleased me. Came and asked if he could wear
dresses and pretty underthings for the rest of the vacation. Naturally, I
knew that he was toadying up to me - he didn't really want to dress prettily,
but I let him - on the condition that he play with Toni every day. It was so
cute seeing the two of them together. Her all boyish - him such a 'cute'
little girl.."
"He didn't give you any trouble after that?" Marjorie said.
Mummy looked reflective. "Oh. Can't say that over the years he didn't give
me any trouble. He'd argue about a color in a blouse I liked for him, or a
skirt. He developed a taste for the brightest red lipstick for a while .. "
My mind started to wander, remembering Toni, and what happened after that
party. Mother had always thought, I knew, that she was the one who had
taught me all of my feminine ways. She was responsible in some things - but
the real teachers had been Toni's mother and her elder sisters.
A couple of days after the party, she'd taken me around to her house to meet
her family. Made no bones about the fact that I was a boy underneath my
feminine clothes - but explained that I liked to dress like a girl. Her
mother and sisters, twins - older than her by about four years, were
scandalized at the fact that a 'boy child' should be such a sissy. I found
that Italian families like hers had very definite masculine and feminine
roles assigned to each sex. Accordingly, I was treated with a great deal of
open scorn for going against their stereotype.
At the same time though, I think that they had been upset with Toni for her
abandonment of her sex. Now that they had me, this was at least some
indication that other families had similar problems. Toni's mother started
to delight in having me in the kitchen with her. Both of the sisters got
similar enjoyment in having me try on some of their clothes that they'd grown
out of - making me up, doing my hair. In the meantime, Toni became the 'man'
of the house (their father was dead), and was treated with all the respect
normally accorded to that person. It soon became obvious that any sign of
masculinity from me 'reminded' the mother and sisters of my true sex, and
more humiliation would be heaped on. When I was nice and feminine though, I
was accepted as one of them, and was treated just fine. I learned quickly to
hide any evidence of maleness, becoming simply accepted as Toni's girl.
She demanded like behaviour from me, especially around other girls. I found
that she especially enjoyed it if I made some comment about her to them -
something along the lines - "Oh that Toni! Just like a boy!" Then I'd roll
my eyes and sigh dramatically.
She even took me to the movies for one early show. Had me sit in the back row
with her where she kissed me and put her hand up my dress a lot. Leaving, we
met one of the boys I'd been friends with coming in with his mom and dad. He
looked kinda embarrassed. Later on, when I saw the mess that Toni had made of
my makeup, I understood why.
My musings were snapped back to what was going on around me.
"But? I don't understand?" Marjorie was saying.
Mummy looked puzzled. "Understand? Understand what?"
"When you got back from vacation? You made him go to school as a girl?"
"Oh no! I wouldn't do that! Just at home, you know? There, I liked him to
dress properly. Know how to cook. Make a dress from a simple pattern. Even
learn how the other half live.."
"Eh? How the...?" Marjorie butted in.
"One time, we had this cute little maid. Irish, she was. So nice. He was
mean to her one day - really bossy you know? I want him to respect all
women, so, just for a lesson, when he was on summer holidays I bought him
some pretty uniforms. Made him the junior maid, under her. She ended up
teaching him a lot of manners, I'll say that. A lot of people would say that
I was mean to him but, you know, young people nowadays - you have to.."
"Oh yes!" Marjorie responded. "I don't think that we mothers get the credit
we're due." She smiled sympathetically - patted Mummy on the arm. "What do
they call it now on the T.V? Tough love?"
Mummy sighed. "Yes. Sometimes we have to be cruel to be kind. Don't we?"
Marjorie thought some more. Turned to me.
"But.. I don't understand. Why are you living here. I mean.. By yourself.
I mean.. Like a man..?"
I started to answer her, but Mummy waved an imperious hand at me to be quiet.
"Well, I'll tell you Marjorie. When he turned twenty-one he came into some
money that my mother had left to him. Against my wishes again, he went to
college. Started getting ideas about being .. you know... masculine?...
Again. I had such a difficult time getting him to admit that all his
education there was worthless - he was a better housewife before he went
there than when he came back.."
"But Mummy!" I interrupted.
Her face hardened. "What color of panties are you wearing?" She snapped.
"Oyster." I replied, gulping.
"Nice satiny, lacy ones?"
I nodded.
"Well Priscilla! Interrupt me again, and Marjorie will see them when I put
you over my knee. You're not such a big girl that I can't, you know."
I shrunk in apology. She continued the story to Marjorie.
"He'd been my .. companion, I guess you'd call it for the last few years
before going to college, but started getting all moody and grouchy when he
finished his schooling. Crying that he wanted to be on his own. Make his
own mistakes. We finally came to an agreement. I'd give him an apartment
for six months. Give him enough money to get by - more than just to get by,
wouldn't you say Priscilla?"
Still dominated by her, I nodded in full agreement. "Yes Mummy. You've been
very generous."
"And.. He could do anything he wanted. Get a job. Support himself. But if
he didn't.. Well then, he comes back to Mummy. Becomes Mummy's little girl
again. Gives up all this macho nonsense for good!" She turned back to me.
"How long has it been now? Over five months, eh? You haven't got a job yet,
do you? How's about it? Would you like to give up now? Come home with me
tonight?"
I wondered where the time had gone. Mummy was right. I'd had more than
enough money, so that I hadn't really been under any great pressure to get
work. Somehow a great deal of time had gone by in shopping for the
furniture, making my drapes - cleaning, painting. I'd only applied for about
two jobs - and neither had even answered my application. Then I'd met Denise
Jackson. Been totally infatuated with this attractive, confident, bright
young intern at one of the best hospitals in town - was actually hoping to
propose to her that very evening. I didn't know how I was going to
contribute towards the marriage (if she'd have me), but felt that I'd manage
'something', given enough time. Maybe, if I could get away from Mummy for a
while - not be so financially dependent on her?
I looked at the clock. Almost three thirty. Had to get rid of my guests,
but mother was still looking at me expectantly, waiting for her answer.
"Thank you Mummy. Honest. But can't I have the rest of my time? You did
say six months. Please?"
She shook her head, somewhat aggravated. "Very well. You're bound and
determined to get your own way, but I guess a promise is a promise.."
I smiled. "Thanks Mummy."
She brightened. "Well. I'll show you there's no hard feelings. When
Marjorie and I were in Saks today, I saw the nicest outfit. Then I saw some
really pretty lingerie. 'Why' I thought 'that'll make the prettiest
homecoming dress for Priscilla. I was going to wait for a week or two before
give it to you, but I don't think I can wait. It's in the hall. Think I'll
go get it. Ended up, I got you a whole outfit - everything!"
While talking, she'd gone and picked up the parcels she'd left there.
Brought them to me. "Here" she said. "Hope you'll like them."
"Aw. Thank you Mummy. You shouldn't have." I said weakly, taking them from
her. We then froze for a second. She broke the ice.
"Well? Why don't you just open them up? Maybe see how you like them?"
I did as I was told. Carefully opened the parcels so as not to tear the
pretty wrapping paper. Gave a little squeal of pretended delight, not
altogether phony, at seeing the confection of light blue frothy lingerie in
one parcel. A shiny heavy evening skirt, in a light beige - a lengthy slit in
it. A draped teal chiffon blouse with a silk lining, Teal shoes to match in
the last box.
"So why don't you try them on?" She looked at her watch. "C'mon. Please?
Let me see them on. But hurry? I'd really like to beat the traffic."
I breathed a sigh of relief. I was tight for time now, but if I hurried, I
could make it.
"Oh yes Mummy. I'd love to!" I said.
But it was well after four o'clock when I presented myself for inspection.
I'd had a problem in finding the shade of hose I wanted. Knew they were in
my drawer, but had to practically empty the whole thing before I found them.
Then noticed how untidy everything was in the drawer. Completely emptied it,
and repacked it in a far neater manner. Also felt that my makeup wasn't
right - was too 'daytime'. So creamed it off, then put on a heavier base -
wetter lipstick, sparkled eyeshadow. My hair wasn't the way I wanted it
either, so I did a quick curl job, and that took a few minutes. (Something at
the back of my mind was trying to remind me that I was running out of time.
Like the four wasted years of college - it was if I couldn't bestir myself to
do anything that would free me from Mummy - like the six months period I'd
just wasted - like the hours that were sliding away this afternoon - but some
more time went by as I re-did my lipstick liner, opting for a darker shade.)
But I looked, and felt, smashing when I was finished. Everything fitted
perfectly. The skirt was rather limiting in that it was slim line, but the
slit allowed my nylon shod legs to glide through. The shoes were a little
higher than I had become accustomed to, but presented no real problem after
I practiced walking the length of the room a few times. The blouse was
sleeveless, but I do have rather nice arms - though I say it myself. Quite
happily I joined the other two. Smiling, I walked across the room and
pirouetted gracefully in front of them.
"Lovely!" Marjorie said with a little gasp. "How pretty you look!"
Mother nodded appreciatively. "Yes. Suits you to a 't' but what kept you?
You were well over a half hour. Looks like we'll get caught in traffic if we
leave now. May as well stay for dinner - we can send out for something.
What do you say?"
I was stunned. What had I done? I'd had time. All I'd had to do..."
My thinking was interrupted by the phone ringing. I picked it up. It was
Denise. My heart lurched. Maybe she was going to call off our date?
"Are you decent?" Was how she opened the conversation.
I looked at my evening ensemble. "I'd say so." Was my reply. "Why d'you
ask?"
"Great!" She enthused. "Just checking that I didn't catch you getting ready
for me. I was going to change at the hospital, but I got off early and a
friend was coming out this way. I'm down in the lobby. You won't mind if I
change up there, will you?"
She was going to see me in women's clothes!
"But - Mummy's here." I faltered.
"Say that again." She laughed.
"Why?"
"You sounded so cute when you said 'Mummy' - just like a little girl! C'mon,
say it again."
"Mummy's here."
I heard her giggle. "Great! I've been wanting to meet her. Be right up."
With that, she hung up the phone.
Dumbstruck, I put the phone down.
"Who was that?" Mummy asked.
"Denise. A friend of mine."
Both women glanced at each other, something peculiar in their expressions.
"Better go and let her in." Mother suggested. Don't want to keep your
visitor waiting, do you?"
"She's not 'exactly' a visitor, Mummy." I said. "She's really.." I plucked
up my courage..."My girlfriend - and she's here for dinner."
Mother didn't react the way I'd expected. "You look awfully worried
Priscilla. Do you think I'll object? But why should you think that? I've
never objected to you having girl friends..."
Marjorie butted in. "Audrey? I think he means - a 'romantic' type girl
friend. Is that so Priscilla?"
I blushed crimson and nodded agreeably. Marjorie pressed the point, a
strange tone in her voice. "You're attracted to this girl sexually?"
I blushed a deeper shade and nodded again.
"Very good!" She said happily - just as the doorbell rang.
What could I do? I opened the door. Denise stood there, smiling directly at
me. She was in jeans and a sweatshirt. Carried a holdall in her hand. I'd
expected that she wouldn't recognize me, then be shocked when she did. But
it was me that got the shock.
"Priscilla? My god! It must be! You're beautiful!" She said, coming
forward and kissing me with a nice firm kiss on the lips. I stood stock
still for a second, then snaked my arms around her neck and curved my body
against hers. Closed my eyes in delight. I'd never been kissed like this
before. Her hands slid down my back, gently probing the lines of my bra and
slip under the blouse, then downwards to cup my buttocks possessively. I felt
as if my body was melting.
"Don't you think that's enough Denny" I heard Marjorie say. "Priscilla's
been showing how well mannered she is - now don't be a bad mannered lout in
front of Audrey. Say hello!"
Denise let go of me. Turned towards the two women who had come alongside us.
"Yes Marjorie. I hear you." She stuck her hand out towards Mummy. "Hi
Audrey. We get to meet face to face, finally!"
I was in a total daze. But everything was made clear a little while later.
Sitting on the couch beside Denny (I'd discovered that she preferred it to
Denise) her arm around my shoulders, my head resting on her shoulder, she
explained.
"It really was the most fantastic coincidence Prissy." (She'd bestowed my new
nickname on me almost immediately). But Marjorie (her mother) finally gave
up on me getting interested in a man .. Well, a real man .. See, I kinda like
the girlish ones. One day, she met Audrey.. Bridge club? Something like
that?"
The two women nodded. Denny continued. "And they got to chatting about the
difficulties in bringing up children with.. say, gender confusion. All of a
sudden 'hey?' Maybe we could make a match?"
"Is that the coincidence you mentioned Denny?" I asked.
She leaned over. Kissed me. "Oh no sweets. There's this real butch lab
technician at the hospital. Months ago, was telling me about this little boy
she knew when she was a kid on vacation. His mother dressed him like a
little girl - guess he was her girlfriend for quite a while."
"Her name wasn't Toni?" I gasped.
"A big prize to the lucky lady!" She said cheerfully. "Right first time!"
"But how did you find me?" I asked.
"Would have been easier if I'd been able to go down there in person, but I
had to write letters, make phone calls - find out who rented that house that
year. Believe it or not, Marjorie told me about meeting this woman .. who
had a son.. And I found your name the other way.. Within a week of each
other."
"And that was the time you were whining to get away from me" Mummy said.
"Couldn't have worked out better!" Denny said. "Being on your own, gave me
a chance to met you 'accidentally'. See if I liked you, you liked me."
"But you thought I was a man. Didn't you Denny?" I asked pleadingly.
She smiled sympathetically but shook her head. "Not really, Prissy." She
turned to the other two. "Honestly! He really did try. But it was like a
girl in boys clothing. When he forgot to concentrate, he'd make these dainty
little hand motions. Then he'd really examine what other women were wearing.
Show all sorts of interest in commercials for cosmetics on TV...Really look
at dresses in display windows of department stores" she kissed me again.
"Honest. You were so sweet. You didn't know where you were half the time."
I was stung a little. "I thought I did o.k." I said huffily.
"Oh you did. You did." She answered. But remember the night we went to the
hospital dance?"
"Yes. I didn't make any mistakes there. I'm sure of that!" I said
positively.
She grinned and shook her head at the other two. "I pulled his chair out for
him. He sat down. I opened doors for him - all night - and he walked
through. I ordered the drinks, paid the tab.."
"Well.." I said. "These things.. anybody could do them. Wouldn't notice.."
"And the dancing?" She teased. "The three waltzes in a row that you enjoyed
so much? Remember how you wondered why a couple of the girls at another
table were looking at you kinda funny?"
"They were drinking too much. That's what that was.."
"No Prissy. Not that at all. These three waltzes. You took the girl's
part. If you'd had a dress on, it would have been flowing.."
She paused. "And? I'd left my evening bag beside you. Remember?"
"Vaguely." I answered.
"You weren't that vague when you went into it and freshened your lipstick."
she chortled. "No wonder these girls were giggling!"
"So you knew all along?" I said sadly.
"Yes. Priscilla. I did. But I loved you for it. You really did try. But
now you're dressed the way you should be, acting the way you should be.
You're my girl now ..Right?"
Before I could answer, Mummy interrupted. "But he's my son too, you know.."
Denny spoke firmly. "Priscilla's a she! She's my girl now. Does what I tell
her. And I don't want to be rude, or mean - but I don't want you calling her
a 'he' any more. We're going to get married...."
I jumped with excitement, and she kissed me again. But I couldn't restrain
myself.
"Honest?" I squealed. "You really mean it? I was going to ask you!"
But then I had to voice my fears. "I don't rally know what I can bring to
the marriage" I said. "I'm not really trained for a job you know.."
She kissed me again to silence me. When she pulled back, she allayed my
fears immediately.
"No job skill? What are you talking about? You're exactly what I need. You
can cook, sew, keep house. You'll be nice and obedient - and you're pretty!"
"I don't know if I can afford a big wedding Denny" Marjorie said, as Denny
finished.
"But Audrey can. Can she not? And I thought it was the mother of the bride
that paid for the wedding?" Denny replied.
Mummy caught on immediately. "Of course it is.. And I still have my mother's
wedding dress. Was always too small for me - should fit him.. I'm sorry
Denny.. her.. with no problems."
It dawned on me finally what Denny was actually proposing. I quivered with
a mixture of fear and anticipation and felt starry eyed with pleasure.
"And I know a couple of girls I could ask to be my bridesmaids" I said
excitedly.
THE END