Becoming Bethany

by Heidi-Jo McGillicuddy's

  

The ear piercing wasn't too painful…of course, the sting of my eyebrow waxing was still relatively fresh in my mind and overrode much of the additional discomfort. Bethany, the Claire's employee who performed the piercing, had a wonderfully gentle bedside manner, and Lisa and I bought each other matching bracelets before thanking her and promising to return for more as soon as my holes had healed.

My toes began to ache as we walked through the mall back to Sak's. Just when maneuvering about in heels had become almost second nature, it then became painful! I didn't want to whine to Lisa about it, but when she stopped momentarily in front of a store window containing a display of handbags, I leaned against her the way she sometimes leaned against me after a long evening out together. She gave me an understanding look now, and said, "Did you need to powder your nose?"

I thought about it. I had used the toilet back at Hot Nails, but at the same time…"Are we going home now?" I asked her.

She shook her head. "Come on," she said. "Here's your big chance to see the Sak's Fifth Avenue Ladies Lounge."

Sore feet or not, I managed to keep up with Lisa as she breezed through Sak's, past the glittering evening gowns and the frilly intimates over to a door discreetly labeled "Ladies Lounge". She pushed through the door and I followed, although I was far too nervous to linger in what appeared to be an elegant arrangement of comfortable chairs and vanity mirrors, instead pushing my way into the first stall that appeared unoccupied, hurriedly fumbling with my lengthy nails to lock the bolt behind me.

Hanging up my purse, I considered the gap between the bottom of the stall door and the tile floor. My shoes and ankles were undoubtedly still visible; fortunately, I welcomed the opportunity to get off my feet. I pulled up my skirt, carefully pulled down my pantyhose and panties, and sat down.

I don't think that I ever felt so vulnerable as I did at that moment in the Sak's Fifth Avenue Ladies Lounge, wearing a blouse and wig, my skirt hiked up, sitting on the toilet with my freshly shaven thighs exposed as I pushed the most unfeminine thing about me down between my legs to pee. I tried to wiggle my toes in my pumps, and wondered where Lisa would take me next.

When I was through, I stood up, wiped myself, quickly pulled my pantyhose back up, and pushed my skirt back down to my knees--after tugging at the tails of my blouse to make sure they were snug in my waistband. Then I flicked the bolt open with an elegantly long nail and pulled the door back open.

As I stepped back out into the ladies room, enjoying the feeling of my satin skirt lining around my legs once again, I caught a glimpse of myself in a mirror across the room. For a moment, seeing the way my white blouse curved around my breastforms and tapered at the waist, I thought I was looking at another female. My lips were thick with lipstick, my eyebrows arched femininely over my thick eyelashes, and now each of my earlobes sparkled.

"Come on, sweetie," Lisa said, watching this. "You look fabulous."

I was blushing as we were leaving the ladies room. A mother and her young daughter were entering, and I found myself holding the door for them. The woman smiled, looked straight at me, and said "Thank you."

"You see?" Lisa asked.

We walked back to the escalator, where we were quickly lifted high above the rest of the store. I stared down my smooth, dark blue skirt and at my strappy pumps as I stood on the grooved steps, and at the top, our shoes clicked daintily as we stepped off and continued out the side door and back to Lisa's car. "I'll open my own door," I told her crossly, but as I said it, I realized that for some reason I was talking like a girl without even thinking about it. I'd spent the day immersed in femininity, and it was having an effect!

Lisa winked at me as she watched me carefully open the door myself, trying to not scuff my acrylic tips.

"How do you feel?" she asked as she steered her car towards the mall exit.

"Fabulous," I told her. I was once again looking at myself in the little mirror in the sun visor; I loved my new earrings--small, tasteful, yet sparkly and fun. "Where are we going now?"

"Downtown," Lisa said. "I need to stop by work and pick something up."

"O.K.," I said. "What did you need?"

"You can come in with me, sweetie," she said, not answering my question. "I know how you've always wanted to see the club."

But dressed like this? I thought. As she somehow knew how to do, however, Lisa read my mind. "You look fine," she said. "In fact, they might even ask you to fill out an application."

"Yeah, right," I said.

"Why not?" she asked.

"They're hiring transvestites?" I asked.

Lisa scowled. "Hello!" she announced. "Welcome to the 21st century! I think that if you sincerely wanted to work for the club presenting yourself as a female, there's no reason why you shouldn't!"

"You don't think it would cause problems?"

"It doesn't have to," she said.

We rode for a while. "I've always loved that suit you wear to work," I told her.

Lisa smiled. "I know, sweetie."

"I don't care," I said. "If I thought I could do better than I was doing working for that pizza joint, I'd quit that job tomorrow."

"That shouldn't be too hard," Lisa said.

"Of course, I don't know if I can ever expect to get more hours over there if I do stuff like get my nails done and my eyebrows waxed." I groaned. "And I'm supposed to keep these starter earrings in for six weeks, and I can't wear them at all at that job, either."

Lisa shrugged. "Are you sorry you got all that done? Because I think you look wonderful!"

I reached over and put my hand on her skirt. Using my new nails, I pulled the hem back and touched her thigh, tickling it with my tips. She giggled, and took my hand in hers, interlocking our nails together tightly.

As we made our way up Main Street towards downtown, I flashed back to that day not long ago when I was walking on this same street with thirty-five Southern Belle sisters, including Lisa, covered from head-to-toe in exquisite lavender antebellum fashions--so much splendor, it was almost overwhelming. I touched the soft white sleeve of my blouse with my long, acrylic-tipped fingers, and shuddered. Who could resist so much beauty? Who? And why?

The building where Lisa worked had an underground parking area. Walking from her car to the elevator was another moment where I felt somewhat exposed. The cool garage air seemed to rise up between my legs. While Lisa assured me that there had never been any incidents down in the basement, that security patrolled the lot 24 hours a day, I nonetheless felt an unfamiliar sense of vulnerability as we stood among the concrete surroundings in our skirts and heels, waiting for the elevator to arrive at the bottom floor. When it finally did arrive, there was also a moment just before the door opened where I held my breath, not knowing if there would be anybody in the elevator. Perhaps I'd seen too many movies where bad things happened to defenseless young women in remote areas of the city; still I breathed a sigh of relief when we were finally in the elevator with door closed, and I felt my feet being pressed further into the toes of my pumps as the elevator began to rise.

"Look," Lisa said. On the inside of the elevator doors, we could see full-length reflections of ourselves. I liked the way our exposed calves seemed to echo one other, smooth, silky, and perched on heels. Feeling silly (among other things) I reached for Lisa, but withdrew my hand as I felt the elevator abruptly slowing. My heart rate increased again as it stopped at the first floor and the doors opened.

"Lisa!" a woman exclaimed from the first floor lobby. "Good afternoon!" I unconsciously stepped backwards, praying it wouldn't be somebody I knew.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Herndon!" Lisa replied in her usual warm manner. "How are you? I believe you've met Bethany?"

I tried to look relaxed as Maude Herndon entered the elevator. She looked momentarily confused as Lisa extended a hand towards me, but her face quickly lit up with recognition. "Of course!" she exclaimed as the doors closed. "Bethany," she repeated slowly, as if digesting each syllable. "What a lovely name!"

"Hello, Mrs. Herndon," I said, feeling my breast forms jiggle slightly as the elevator accelerated upwards again.

"Mrs. Herndon," Lisa said, "I was suggesting to Bethany that she should see about filling out an application with the club. We need help back in the office."

"Oh!" Mrs. Herndon exclaimed. "You're here to see about the opening for a hostess?"

"Well, not exactly," I said.

"Why not?" Mrs. Herndon asked. "My dear, we would simply love to have you!"

"Well," I said, stammering, "I'm not…you know…"

"Not what?" she asked. "I can tell you that you are certainly pretty enough."

"I said the same thing," Lisa chimed in.

"I'm not a girl," I whispered.

Mrs. Herndon smiled sadly. "Even if we weren't desperate, which we are, we could still do far, far worse than hiring you, I'm sure. Are you worried about hearing remarks around the office?"

"Well, there's that," I said.

Mrs. Herndon shook her head. "Any catty comments would be made out of sheer jealousy, and if they become a problem, I'll see to it that they cease."

"It won't be a problem, sweetie," Lisa said.

"But what about my job now?"

"What it is?" Mrs. Herndon.

"Delivering pizza," I whispered. The elevator door opened, and I realized that we were on the top floor. This was where Lisa worked.

We stepped out onto a marble floor, the clicking of our heels gently echoing up an exquisitely appointed hallway. At one end of the hallway, windows overlooked the city to the east; at the other end was an unmarked antique-white door with a brass handle.

"Lisa," Mrs. Herndon said, "Do we have a uniform for Bethany? I'm sure we can at least use an extra hand tonight."

"That's why I'm here," she said. "I'm not scheduled, but I thought we might need some help in the office--we still have those membership files to update. And we do have a uniform," she smiled, looking at me and winking.

Mrs. Herndon opened the antique-white door and held it open for Lisa and I. Behind it, we saw Carrie sitting at a magnificent oak receptionist's desk in her uniform, a nametag pinned to her suit jacket. She smiled and said, "Good afternoon Mrs. Herndon. Hello Lisa. Hello…" Her voice trailed off.

"Good afternoon, Carrie," Mrs. Herndon said. "This is Bethany, and she is going to need a nametag as soon as possible."

Carrie immediately picked up a pen and jotted this down. "Is Bethany going to be working for us?" she asked.

"Can you show her how to print up those billing packets?" Lisa asked.

Carrie nodded. "Tonight?" she asked.

"But don't I need to fill out an application?" I asked.

"We'll get you an application," Lisa said. "Thank you, Mrs. Herndon. Come on, Bethany, I'll help you change."

"You want me to work tonight?" I whispered as I followed Lisa up a hallway carpeted with rich shag carpeting that was soft under my heels.

"Just for a half-shift," Lisa explained. "Carrie will show you what to do, and we can grab a bite to eat on the way home."

I followed Lisa into a small coatroom which contained a rack of clothing. "Are sure I still look O.K.? I'm going to need to shave eventually."

She touched my cheek. "Not yet though," she said. She poked down the rack and pulled out, in quick succession, a skirt, a jacket, and a blouse, all exactly matching the outfit I'd admired on her so often.

"What about shoes?" I asked. Lisa, I knew, wore enclosed, cream-colored pumps with her uniform, and not strappy navy blue stilettos like mine.

She winked. "Don't worry," she said. "I've got this all planned." She handed me the hangers of clothing and led me out of the cloakroom. I followed her through a door marked "EMPLOYEES ONLY" and up another, plainer corridor to an unmarked door marked "PRIVATE". "This is like our little changing room," she said. I followed her inside.

The room was small. Lisa locked the door. "Do you need help with your buttons?" she asked.

I turned away from her. "Probably with my skirt button," I said, as I more or less managed to get the first of my blouse buttons unbuttoned. I felt her behind me waistband of my skirt loosen, and I stepped out of it as I pulled open my blouse, carefully slipping my hands through the narrow double-buttoned cuffs.

I studied myself in the mirror in my bra, cincher, pantyhose and panties as Lisa pulled a shopping bag from a little compartment with her name on it. She set aside a shoebox, and tore the tag off a nude-colored satin camisole trimmed in lace. "Put this on over your head," she said, "but watch out for your makeup!"

I figured out which side was the front side and carefully pulled it down over my head. It was soft, silky, and sung against my body. I could feel something happening in my pantyhose but before I could look down, Lisa had finished unbuttoning my new blouse and was handing it to me.

I shuddered as I touched the sheer material. Still balanced on my heels, I turned the blouse around and found the sleeves. Plunging my long-nailed hands into the soft sleeves, I drew the front of the blouse up against my chest, pulling the collar around my neck and feeling the little buttons in the back. Lisa immediately began to start buttoning me from the bottom up, and I fumbled to button the small buttons on the narrow, dainty cuffs with my long nails. I managed to get one of them buttoned as I felt Lisa moving up my back, pulling the blouse tighter and tighter around my new camisole. "Hold your hair, sweetie," Lisa said, and then I could feel her at the back of my neck, buttoning the last of the buttons. "Now turn around so I can unbuckle your shoes," she said.

I did. As she knelt at my feet, I looked at myself in the mirror as I fumbled to button my other cuff. When I saw myself in the regal, sheer, high-necked blouse for the first time, I gasped. The faux ascot that delicately circled my neck looked quite regal and elegant; I also noted with satisfaction how feminine the small shoulder pads looked as well as felt.

"Lisa?" I asked, as I felt my left shoe loosen.

"Yes, sweetie?" she asked.

"Did I ever tell you what happened when I went to the men's room in my hoopskirt right before the Heritage Day parade?"

"No sweetie, what?" she asked, looking up. Then she gasped and lunged for a nearby box of Kleenex as I rushed to pull down my pantyhose and panties.

A moment later, we were both giggling. "How did you do that," Lisa asked, "with any…um--"

"Friction?" I asked. I looked in the mirror again at the results of my makeover. "I guess I'm really enjoying this," I told her.

She nodded. "Well, I'm glad you warned me," she said. "That was…"

"I know," I said. "It was pretty impressive on this end too."

Lisa giggled again as she wadded up one last piece of tissue and tossed it into a nearby wastebasket. "Well, you're O.K. to pull up your drawers again," she said. "Let me get you your skirt."

"And shoes!" I said.

"And shoes," she said, handing me a cream-colored skirt. She pointed at the box she had set aside earlier and I eagerly pulled the skirt up around my waist.

This skirt was more utilitarian than the one I'd been wearing all day, heavier and slightly looser around my waist, clasping rather than buttoning in the back. I reached up under the satin lining to pull down the tails of my blouse, and felt a satisfying tugging around my neck. Then I pulled the top off the shoebox. Inside was a very elegant pair of cream colored pumps. I put them on the floor and then lifted first one leg, then the other, to step into them. My lined skirt slid smoothly up my thigh to accommodate my unladylike stance; slipping into the shoes, I rose an additional three inches. They fit perfectly and were so much more comfortable than the strappy shoes I'd been wearing all day.

"How do I look?" I asked Lisa. She was hanging up my other blouse and skirt.

"How do you feel?" she replied.

"I feel…elegant," I said.

She nodded. "And you look elegant! Surprise, surprise!"

I traced my nails down the front of my blouse, looking in the mirror all the while. "Do I leave my purse in here?" I asked.

"We'll label one of these compartments for you," Lisa said. "Now that you have a name!"

"Bethany," I said.

"Bethany," she repeated.

I could see the lace trim on my camisole through the sheer blouse material. "I guess I need my jacket," I said, fluffing my hair back and touching the little buttons on the back of my neck.

"Just one other thing first," Lisa said, reaching behind me for something.

"What?" I asked. I turned around.

Lisa stood there smiling, holding out to me what I immediately recognized as her grandmother's pearls.

I gasped.

"I know how much you love these," she said.

"But they're yours!"

"I want to see you in them," she whispered. "Hold up your hair again," she said.

I did. Lisa came up to me with the open necklace in both hands and put them both around my neck. As she fiddled with the clasp, I reached down and touched her waist with both of my hands. She giggled. Then she let go of the necklace, and it draped elegantly with my blouse.

Lisa tried to pull back, but I wouldn't let her go. She squirmed, but I persisted, and after a minute or so, we parted to survey each other's lipstick damage. "You're going to go away and leave me alone up here?" I asked.

"I'll be back," she said. "As soon as possible."

As though on cue, there was a knock on the door. "It's Carrie!" we heard her calling.

We both sighed and let go of each other. I turned to look at myself in the mirror in pearls, while Lisa unlocked the door. "I've got a nametag," Carrie said.

"Thank you, Carrie," Lisa said. "We're almost ready."

"Turn around, Bethany!" Carrie called. "I want to see you!"

I turned.

"Oh my God!" she shrieked. "Bethany, you rock!"

"Is that good," I asked.

"Thank you, Carrie," Lisa said. "We'll be right out." She was pinning the name tag to the breast of the jacket.

"I'll be up front," Carrie told us.

Lisa sighed. "Are you ready, sweetie?"

I was. I thought she was going to hand me the jacket, but she shook her head and motioned for me to turn so she could help me with it. I stuck out both hands and felt my long nails and my arms within the wonderfully silky blouse enter a pair of satin lined sleeves; when I pulled the jacket over the shoulders of my blouse and fluffed my hair back, the effect was instantaneous. The delicate little cuff buttons at my wrists where they protruded from the sleeves, the way the jacket matched the skirt…I buttoned the jacket, forming a 'V' that perfectly framed the faux ascot and pearls…my shaven ankles were perched on an elegant pair of crème colored pumps…and on my chest, the name: Bethany.

"I'm going to get paid to do this?" I asked.

"It's up to you," she said. "Come on. I did need to get to the cleaners before they closed."

I followed her up the hallway of the employee area out to the vestibule outside the elevator on the top floor. I paused to look out the window at the east end of the lobby as Lisa pressed the down button.

"Carrie's right through that door," she said, pointing. "You'll do fine."

"Thank you," I told Lisa. "You always know how to make me feel…"

The elevator bell rang. Lisa smiled as the elevator door opened. "Hold that thought," she said as she stepped inside. "You'll do fine," she said again.

I nearly stepped inside the car to kiss her again, but the door suddenly slid shut, and I was left to only stare at my full-length reflection in the shiny panels as I heard Lisa's car depart with a whir.

I took a deep breath and adjusted my jacket, admiring my newly trimmed and arched eyebrows, my sparkly little starting earrings. This was who I was, and what I looked like. I was on the top floor of the tallest downtown building, and there was no men's clothing anywhere in here for me to wear now. I absently fingered the soft high collar of my blouse, admiring Lisa's grandmother's pearls, and realized that I didn't even have a ride home if Lisa never came back to pick me up, and yet I felt oddly secure about myself as I never had before.

Suddenly, I was Bethany…and Bethany was me.

I took another deep breath and primped my hair one last time. Then I turned and began to walk to the entrance of the club, my heels clicking across the marble.

I knew I would never deliver another pizza again.

  

  

  

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