Alan's Penance

by Ann O'Nonymous

  

Chapter 12: The Hooded Menace – Whoops, wrong story

With table set, food tempting the taste buds by smelling more delicious than it had a right to be, and a white Sonoma Valley wine breathing, Nikki took a few minutes teaching Eve the fine art of the curtsey, only she called it "the cutsie."

"You take the dress or skirt in each hand, hold it out on the left and right, kinda flaring it. Bring the right foot back behind the left, but place the toes on the ground then bend the left knee, bow your head slightly – and that's about it. Want to try it a few times?"

"Sounds easy enough! How about this transgendered thing, Nikki?"

As Eve tried the curtsey, Nikki related: "Well, Alan dear, you have masculine to describe men, and feminine for women – no gray area. But then you have those who seem to cross the boundary – they 'transcend' the 'gender' differences we expect. There are women who feel more at home in a lumber shirt and jeans, shouting out orders to a construction crew in a language that would make a harlot blush, and wouldn't wear a skirt to their own funeral. That the population can accept – now! Men, that's a different story. A man who loves dresses, skirts and silky lingerie; wears nylons and complains of runs; and enjoys embroidery and knitting is looked upon as a sick individual."

Eve halted in the middle of her third try to ask, or more correctly state, "So shouldn't I feel guilt about liking all these frilly things?"

"Hell no! In fact, the more frills the better you'll feel. Look, there are women that are the 'weaker' sex – they want/need a strong, willful, controlling man. But, Nancy and myself . . . well, we were raised to know what we want in life. Emm, look at all those female execs who rose through the ranks of office politics and squabbles to become CEOs, CFOs and board chairwomen – yes, not chairperson, you wouldn't say 'chairpeople,' damn it! Those are strong-willed women, and they definitely don't want some man with macho oneupsmanship challenging them at home after a hard day working with a bunch of know-it-alls. It's the same in many other cases, dear Eve."

"Uhhhh, so . . . I'm the, uh . . . the weaker sex?"

"NO! I guess the best way to put it is that you, a male/female amalgam, should be joined with a somewhat masculine female," was Nikki's reply. "A strong woman needs a softer male to, well, replace some of the feminine qualities she gives up. Now don't get me wrong – she's still feminine, but definitely not the 'weaker' type."

Eve straightened up from her fifth curtsey, and exclaimed, "Huzzahs, Eureka, yippee, and all that sort of rot! By Jove, now I got it!"

"By Hera, I think you do," Nikki giggled as she then said, "The curtsey or the transgender thing."

Eve pursed her pretty lips (at least to Nikki they were) and replied, "Both, actually. See if I'm right: 'There are men who are testosterone-driven. They put most of their time into their strength and usually look for females that are their opposite – the so-called weaker sex. Now I "feel" more like a fem-male; that is, I seem to enjoy those things that are softer. So, my preference would be towards the stronger type female.' How's this."

Nikki watched Eve drop into a very nice curtsey -- the clapping of her hands showing her appreciation. The answer to Eve's statement was, "Very nice – the audience awaits your bows, m'lady! As you can see – you have a natural part in nature. Mom once said that a woman in power with a nice soft, relatively speaking, gentle man is just natural. He gives her his strength to do her work outside the home, fight the good fight, and come home to a peaceful place."

"He is her balance in life; he becomes the girlfriend she can confide in, to gossip and shop with; he is her lover in bed, in heart and spirit; a soulmate; he gives a love that transcends life itself," came from Nancy standing in the doorway to the dining area. "Mom will be home with her guest in fifteen minutes. Everything's keeping warm. So, how's the curtseying?"

"Watch," Eve smiled as she gracefully swept her right foot back and dropped into a curtsey that would've made a stage star proud and, lifting her head, she gave a lovely beatific smile to each.

"And this . . . this took what, twelve minutes. You sure you never did this before?"

"Nikki's a great teacher!" Eve had an unexpected vision, and suddenly blurted out, "Ohhhh, out of his love for her, he willingly and lovingly gives up his strength."

"Right – emphasis on willingly, and in doing so shows his real strength," replied Nancy. "You might say that his surrender to her is from his heart."

"Am I interrupting something?"

Three heads turned simultaneously at the sound. A smiling Ms. Winters stood in the doorway with a female stranger who awed the small gathering.

"Girls, may I present Ms. Victoria de la Marr. She owns the local martial arts/ballet/dance studio. Victoria, this is my oldest, Nancy; then there's Nikki; and our guest, Eve St. John."

As she curtsied, Eve gazed up in awe at the six-foot-plus golden-haired woman. Beautifully made up, she was well built (38-25-36, but who's counting) in every way possible. Her navy blue skirt, just barely reaching her knees, showed off smoothly muscular black nylon-covered legs, similar to an aerobics or ballet instructor's. Her opaque sand-colored short-sleeved blouse emphasized two lovely mounds and muscular arms. The flats she was wearing made her height even more impressive.

"Eve . . . Eve . . . <snap> <snap> dear, aren't you hungry?" a smiling Cathy said.

"Earth to Eve, come in," said a snickering Nancy.

"Wha . . . who . . . oh, oh geez," Eve said after a second.

"It's Vikki, dear! I'm most pleased to meet you – you are very pretty," this gorgeous woman said, offering her hand.

Curtseying again, Eve shook the hand, and stared up in rapt admiration at the giantess.

"Eve, would you give me a hand in the kitchen," Nancy said as she took her by the shoulders and propelled her in that direction, after watching with amusement as Eve gave an imitation of a spectator at a vertical tennis match.

Safely in the kitchen, Nancy asked, "Are you okay?" as she handed him a tray of dishes with food.

"Em, I think so – she's just . . . just so beautiful. She looks like emm, . . . Kim, Kim Basinger, only more so," replied Eve, "I think I might have offended her!"

"Then ask," Nancy replied as she took a second tray and they re-entered the dining room just as Nikki finished filling the wine glasses. The trays of dishes were placed on the table then they took their place, joining hands for the prayer.

This time, Eve remembered to say "Blessed Be" and was mildly surprised when Vikki said "Amen." Seated with hands in lap, he politely waited for plates to come around and when Cathy asked, "So, Eve, how was the card game?"

She answered with some modestly, "It was rather nice – I think, umm, no I know I enjoyed the company a lot."

"She should! She and Nikki won seven fifty," was Nancy's contribution.

"That's for our honeymoon," countered Nikki.

"Please pass the soy sauce," Vikki requested, and Eve almost fell over a chair trying to help. Vikki giggled and said, "Wow! What service – I'll have to eat here more often."

"Please, tipping is allowed for the wait-staff," Nancy giggled.

As they ate, the dinner conversation drifted from the poker game, the weather for the next few days, Eve's fashion for that day, and how the "heels" exercises were coming. Soon, it was coffee and a slice of cherry pie (supplied by Vikki) for each.

Sipping her coffee, Vikki asked Eve to say, "How nice to see you again, my dear." After listening carefully, she said, "Again, only a little softer and slightly higher in pitch."

'Alan' sat there repeating the mantra, in varying pitch, volume and intonation. He sipped, and said, "Vikki, is this really necessary?"

"Oh, this is the EASY part," was the comeback. Next she said, "You need to be able to blend in with a group of girls so well that even they don't suspect you are a boy."

After the meal, Nikki and Nancy cleared the table and started on the dishes. 'Alan' was led into the family room and given 2" heels to put on. It was circle the room with a heavy book balanced precariously on head, repeat "How very nice to see you again, my dear," bend at knees to retrieve dropped book, and do it again. Both Cathy and Vikki commented on his rapid progress, gave suggestions and a few compliments. It was those praises that made Eve want to do better. Soon she was up to 3" pumps, and able to pick up books placed on floor without dropping the one balanced on her head. By the time the girls had finished the dishes and joined them, Eve had a close-to-female voice and fairly decent walk.

<Of course mannerisms, makeup, positioning of hands when speaking, and other gender giveaways were pointed out. 'Alan' was learning quite a bit in that evening lesson.>

"Cathy, you say she only started today," Vikki inquired.

"The girls were working her this morning, and that seemed to be all she needed."

The gorgeous Amazon (seems like all these women were that!) smiled at Eve as she said, "Dear, it's all right – I was told that you were in a spot of trouble. So forgive me if I refer to you in the feminine."

"I do forgive you, if you'll forgive me for staring at you."

She laughed lightly as she stated, "Henh … henh … henh! At work, I once had a junior instructor walk into a water cooler. He spent two hours cleaning up the spill. Then there was the mail clerk who wound up in the ladies room."

"Was that Mikey?" asked Cathy. "I seem to remember you taking him on for the summer."

"Yep! Anyway, rest period's over – back on your rounds."

Back to the salt mine again -- around the room, now on 4" pumps and trying to hold a reasonably intelligent conversation in a reasonably feminine voice with Nikki and Nancy, and that book, etc.

"When do we start 'the rain in Spain falls mainly on the plain'?" quipped Eve.

"For that remark, it's ten more laps," stated Cathy, "Vikki, I hope you don't mind sleeping in the maid's room."

"Hey, that's okay. I can even make breakfast . . . ."

"Not in my house," Cathy quickly interrupted, "You are a guest, besides Eve needs cooking instructions."

Vikki grinned as she said, "And that pretty vixen will cook too? My, what a find you got there, Nikki."

"I'm willing to share," Nikki brightly replied, adding, "for a fee, of course." (The snickering gave her away.)

When Eve finished her tenth lap, Vikki said, "Dear, you look a little tired! Come sit on my lap." Eve was on her lap in a second!

With those two muscular arms wrapped around him, 'Alan' snuggled up to those lovely globes (now why did he like their close proximity).

<If this is a punishment, I'd love to be here until Christmas, Alan wistfully thought. Being here among all these lovely girls, this was where he really felt at home.>

Vikki broke into his reverie with, "Now, sweetheart – here's why we need you to be so girly. First, there is a meeting of the Ladies' City Auxiliary. These are the female leaders in the city – storeowners, city representatives, etc. You and Nikki will be serving the guests in pretty maid's uniforms. Next, you will be used as a model in a beauty salon – appearing before teenaged girls. The 'Niles Chapman-Greenwood' house needs two tour guides. Imagine guiding tourists in hoop skirts, corsets and petticoats through a Civil War era mansion."

<Why did he get that erection again? Was it the idea of appearing in public in frilly garments? Did he really understand what was going on? 'Alan' mused on these as Vikki cuddled and spoke to him. Oh, he followed her every word – he was afraid of missing something for fear she would do something drastic to hold his attention. Oh, those lovely mounds – I wonder if Nikki will ever be that big. Or bigger?>

"Then, at the Founder's Day celebration, in about twenty or more days, you will be portraying Chastity Chapman, daughter of the city's founder, meeting and greeting visiting dignitaries and tourists. Between those events, you will be here, learning about famous women in history," Vikki went on to say. It what seemed to be an afterthought, she added, "Oh yes. You will also learn Ballroom dancing – waltzes, foxtrot and two-step. You'll be dancing with some boy students."

"I guess I don't have a say in anything," replied Eve.

Cathy quickly answered, "Oh, Eve darling, yes you do! Do you see any cameras? Have we really threatened you? I know it's only a short time that you've been here, but I would hope you started to like the more frilly things. All you need do is say, 'I want out,' and I'll call your mother."

<What a turn of events this was. These were, . . . were swell, . . . Oh hell – admit it, Alan, you like these things. You like the way the skirt swirls when you spin around; you like the lace of the pettipants brushing your leg; the feel of Nancy or Nikki as they hold you; and all those beautiful girlfriends of Nancy. Admit it, you're hooked on the clothes, the girls – so, what . . . Wait a minute, can't be too anxious here. Got to be subtle – in a pig's eye!>

"Ma'am, I'll do what ever you want me to," Eve replied, averting her eyes modestly downward – mostly to hide the big grin.

 

Is there a future here? Is this "That's all Folks"?

[Note: Is there really enough interest in this story to continue?]

Annie O

To Be Continued?

  

  

  

*********************************************
© 2003 by Ann O'Nonymous. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, and compilation design) may be printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without the express written consent of StorySite and the copyright holder.