Crystal's StorySite storysite.org

This narrative contains adult subject matter. It should not be read by anyone who is not entitled to have access to adult issues under any and all laws that govern the reader’s rights and privileges. As it relates to transgender issues, those who find the subject matter offensive should stop now and read no further.

This eighth part of a continuing story is about a teenager with an alcoholic father. It may be read separately, but the context is enhanced if you read all seven of the prior segments: ‘Changes -’, ‘More Changes- ’, Some More-", Still More-", "Unexpected-", and "Permanent Changes for the better".

 

Final Changes for the Better                    by: Virginia Kane

 

Part Eight

Chapter One.

Miss Morgan said I could start addressing her by her first name at home, as we were getting used to living with each other. She burst in on Jane and I while we studied up in my room. (We were almost caught studying each other’s teeth with our tongues). "Donna, I have some great news! — Oh! Hi Jane. I forgot you were coming over today to study. Oops!"

"Donna?" Jane looked at me out of the corner of one eye. "I knew you were a lot different than other boys; DONNA, (stated with considerable sarcasm) but not that different. I picked up on your soft skin and your smooth face long ago, and I like the fact that you don’t try to be so rough and tough like most boys do. I even tried to notice whether you got aroused when we kissed a lot. I guess you could have used something down there to fool a naïve dodo like me and look male. Now, I’m not so sure a masquerading lesbian hasn’t duped me, but good! Either of you care to let me in on Miss Morgan’s little boo-boo?"

I jumped up and the two of us stood there staring at each other with our mouths open, waiting for the other to say something. Neither of us came up with a good reply as to why Terry would call me Donna. It was obviously not a slip of the tongue, as Terry’s tone of voice clearly and casually addressed me as Donna.

"I, uh, I, uh. – She kids around like that sometimes, because I have to wear back braces at times. I told you about the braces. It’s just a silly dig, Jane. That’s all."

"Uh, huh!" She didn’t buy that one. "Can I poke around and see what your braces look like, DONNA? I got a sneaky feeling yours look a lot like mine, with lace and satin panels to hold in your tummy, and long garters to hold up a pair of nylons. Question is: why do you want to wear them? That bad back routine is starting to sound somewhat flimsy. Are you or were you a girl in transition?"

I had to make my explanation sound believable. "No, no! I’m all male, Jane, and I always was. We simply decided it would be far cheaper for me to wear the plain girdles made for girls for my back. They are no different than the ones the doctor had the truss shop make up for me, except a lot cheaper. When I wear one, Miss Morgan, Terry, likes to tease me, because I’m sensitive about getting caught in one. No one can see when I wear a corset under my sweats, so it doesn’t matter. Why spend twice or three times as much for the same thing just because it was custom made to fit me?" I was hoping my overkill didn’t backfire.

"Surrrre! Hee, Hee, Hee! I’ll bet you have one on right now!" She pointed to my not so flat zipper. "I can tell you like having it on, too!" I turned red as a beet.

"Ask Terry! She’ll tell you. I only wanted to save money because dad and I were on ‘relief’, and had no medical insurance coverage until about a month ago."

"Okay I believe you, but can I see what they all look like anyway, in case you’re fibbing about not wearing them because you like them? If you’re telling me the honest truth, opening up all the drawers in your dresser and letting me have a quick glance into your closet shouldn’t bother you one bit. After all, you tried to see mine, a while back. I see no reason why I shouldn’t see yours. Do you?"

Miss Morgan saved the day. "Some things still in the dresser drawers are mine, Jane. Donny is still getting settled in. In fact, I was coming in to tell him I got word from the realty office where I listed his home for sale. We received an excellent offer on the house. Donny will be staying here with me for a while, at least until he finishes high school, and we expect his father will be hospitalized for a long time, so owning a house is a needless burden. Why not take a break from your studies and let me fill Donny in on what this will mean?"

"Sounds fine to me, after I have a look for myself. Did you lose a lot of weight in the past few months, Miss Morgan? Donna, I mean, Donny certainly wouldn’t fit in any corset that you would wear. If there are any larger fancy girdles in these drawers, they must be his or someone else’s."

"Okay, okay. No sense trying to beat around the bush. Donny has some fancier girdles to wear at night. They are lighter in weight and easier to sleep in. See for yourself. They cost less and feel nicer than the ones we had made for him at the truss shop. They’re in the center two drawers."

"No, I trust you. I don’t mind. He can wear whatever he likes. I didn’t want you to think you were pulling any wool over my eyes. That’s all. Besides, we discussed our common need for back support the first time he walked me home. I think it is a bit naughty. I like the way I feel when I’m all laced up, myself. Gentle as Donny is, I’m not surprised that he’d discover the same thrill, once he tried it. I can’t find blame in him for liking the same nice things I like, can I?"

I was dumbfounded beyond replying. Anything that I would say would only make matters worse. I stood back and let Miss Morgan continue. She was doing fine.

"You’re a very open minded girl, Jane. Don’t you feel a teeny bit threatened by his venturing into ‘forbidden territory’?"

"No, not as long as he doesn’t want to ‘be’ a girl. I wear male clothes for knocking around, all the time. They wear better, and are cheaper, too. Why get bent out of shape if a sensitive guy like Donny gets curious and wants to know what the big attraction the fashion scene has? Maybe we can explore together.

I do have my own computer. My mom doesn’t know enough about computers and the Internet to lock out porn sites. I found some interesting things without her knowing, some ugly things, some quite nice. Our generation is light years ahead of most adults. We learned how to ‘surf the net’ in school. It’s all we kids talk about sometimes, especially the girls, because our parents are so fuddy-duddy and secretive about adult issues. As long as we don’t get too carried away, it’s harmless fun. How’s a girl going to learn how to protect herself, if she doesn’t understand what some people out there are like?"

"That’s true, but it can be dangerous, Jane. You should be very careful what you reveal about yourself on the Internet, or you’ll find trouble when you look for it."

"I’m glad you are computer literate, Miss Morgan. I saw your ‘box’ in your room. You seem to understand how it is with us kids. Donny isn’t savvy at all. Being poor, he never had much of a chance to learn. I could help him get up to speed in no time if you give him permission to use your computer."

"Maybe after we all get to know one another better, Jane. We’ll see."

"Say, don’t you want to tell Donny about the house offer?"

Well, for a while, I thought I was only a part of the woodwork.

 

Chapter Two.

Terry filled me in on all the details. The realtor secured an offer for slightly more than the appraised value of the house because the prospective buyer worked nearby and wanted to buy a "fixer upper" that could be expanded as his family grew. I was hesitant, because of memories I had of growing up in that house, but I couldn’t deny the urgent need for ready cash and the growing nuisance of my daily trips maintaining the place. The neighbors did provide me with some pocket money for doing chores, but I could continue doing that after it was sold by riding over on my bike and talking to Mrs. Sullivan. She was always on patrol in her windows and knew everything that happened on the block.

After paying off the mortgage, the expenses of sale, and the advances the bank made to overdue creditors, we’d still yield a tidy sum. Keeping the place would only add to the bills. "It’s up to Dad, Terry. I’ll miss the place, but we can’t keep pouring more money into it for nothing. Neither dad nor I live there anymore."

"Your dad will approve. It was he that asked me to place it with a reliable broker a few weeks back. I think he’ll be glad you won’t have to truck back and forth to keep an eye on it. If it makes a difference, the prospective buyer is one of the Sullivan sons. Seems he manages the family business, now that Mr. Sullivan retired. He can watch over his folks better, too if he lived next to them."

"Mrs. Sullivan will be the one doing all the watching. She’s always in one window or another. She is nice, though. She was the first one to offer me odd jobs to help make ends meet after dad went into the hospital. She didn’t pick on me at the block party, either. I’ll miss her too, in a funny kind of way."

"Oh, I don’t know. I think we’ll be seeing her sooner than you think. Her recent second deposition revealed some startling new facts. The man that used to live across the street hit your other next-door neighbor’s Volvo. She didn’t see it happen, but heard a crash and watched him pushing his disabled cycle into his garage to hide it. She said he was so high on drugs he could barely walk."

"Normally, that Vincent Black Shadow was always in the driveway, on display.

Why didn’t she come forward sooner?"

"Said she didn’t want to meddle in other peoples’ business. We checked into his background and found out that he is related to someone at your dad’s company. He moved in right after your mom passed away and moved back out to about twelve blocks away right after your dad went into the hospital. He intentionally instigated a belligerence campaign at the block party with rumors and innuendo. He cited several bad things about your dad from times before he even lived in the neighborhood and said some things about your dad that weren’t true.

Seems he flashed a lot of money around at the block party, too. Before that, he was always mooching gas for his cycle or his mower off of other neighbors. He was always broke! I don’t think he bought either house but claimed that he did. Your lawyers are working on who did and who is renting the house across from your old house now. He’s a single guy. Doesn’t seem to work, but has a lot of visitors, seedy looking people, according to Mrs. Sullivan. She’s afraid of him."

"What are you saying?"

"Hard to say, without enough proof to back it up, but it’s possible the first man, the one with the fancy motorcycle which smashed into the Volvo was put there by the company to find ways to discredit your dad, and cause trouble for him."

"That’s hard to believe! Why would anyone purposely lie and make things difficult for us with the rest of our neighbors? We had enough of trouble keeping up the mortgage payments and the utilities. We were on a fast track to foreclosure when I first met you, Terry. They could have waited a few more months and we’d be gone. If it wasn’t for you---"

"It’s harder to prove, Donny. Your lawyers are very competent. They won’t stop searching until they find out if there is any connection between those two men and the company. It’s better for us to steer clear of your old house for the time being. I can hire professional movers to take everything personal that you want to keep out of the house and place it into storage before the sale."

Jane looked bewildered. I hadn’t told her much about dad’s illness, or why I was living with Miss Terry Morgan. Her finding out about my wearing women’s girdles was plenty for her to wonder about. As it was, we were done studying for the day, so we two went back into my room, and I tried to explain things. She was a real peach about it, and afterwards promised not to tell a soul.

I walked her back to her place and we cuddled in the hallway for a while. She told me she thought I would look neat in a fancy Victorian corset. "Donny? If you want me to, and I can spend a whole day with you, would you be willing to let me help you put a woman’s corset on? It would be great fun for you to have a friend who likes to wear them, too; one that likes corsets as much as I do. I’m dying to see how you look in one, you know. I’ll wear one, too. We can go out somewhere and have a ball, all laced up. Maybe we can go to a shopping mall, where lots and lots of people will see us and never know what you are wearing underneath your male clothes. Won’t that be a gas?"

"Whoa! No way! I’m not going anywhere dressed up in a woman’s corset! What if something happened and I was found out? I only go to aerobics wearing a brace, but never a fancy corset. Even there, I take it off while I still have my sweats on, and sneak it into my gym bag before I take a shower. Sometimes, that’s scary. If one guy ever catches me, I’m dead meat. They’ll make a scene, call me names like ‘queer’ or ‘homo’. No way, Jane! I only sleep in the fancy ones because they are lighter in weight and more comfortable. But, if you’d like, I’ll wear one for you for a while at my place, Saturday. Compromise?"

"Well, okay, but I still think going to the mall would be fun. What will you tell Miss Morgan? She knows that I know about your corsets, but will she put up a stink if she sees me seeing you in one?"

"Terry? I doubt it. She helped me get those corsets. I never would have without her support. She said the braces would help me exercise properly, and she was right. When I’m wearing one, the movements flow, not jerk and snap.

A corset helps control the moves, so I don’t injure myself with the excess flab I have. After I wore the plain ones for a while, Terry bought me the nicer ones to sleep in. She sleeps in them too. Says they help keep her well defined shape."

"Excess flab? You don’t seem that heavy. You don’t need controlled support!"

"I did when I started. I lost a lot of weight since this spring. I guess I could get away without wearing a corset while exercising, but I’m used to it now. Makes me feel like I’m more graceful. Reminds me to be careful and I can workout much harder without worrying about a spinal spasm or a muscle tear. If you want to, you can join me in my aerobics classes after school. You’ll see what I mean."

"I will if I can wear a corset, too. Would that be okay?"

"I guess. Miss Morgan had the trainer prepare a schedule of exercises for me at the start. Then I progressed under her guidance to more difficult routines."

"Her guidance? You have a woman trainer?"

"I do since I moved in with Terry. I started with a male trainer at the community center, but now I go to her health club. It’s three blocks from her place. I can jog there in no time. We can jog over together whenever you’d like."

"Does your trainer know about the corsets?"

"Yes, but only the plain ones. She doesn’t know about my stash of pretty ones. If Terry didn’t goof up today, Terry would still be the only one who knows about those. She’s like a big sister to me, rather than a guardian. It’s okay, though. I’m glad you know now. I finally have someone my age that shares my big secret. It feels nice, knowing that you don’t mind and won’t make fun of me. As a fat kid, I was usually the brunt of people’s jokes. I can imagine what it would be like if they knew I would be wearing corsets. Wow! Would I be in for it!"

"Yeah, that’s true, but think of the fun we could have if you’ll wear one and they don’t find out. Nobody wonders what kind of undies a guy wears. They don’t even wonder about the kinds girls wear."

"Oh yes they do! Guys do. That’s all they ever talk about! No thank you!"

Jane’s mom rattled the door before opening it. She felt we two spent enough time together for one day and shagged me home. I skipped all the way back to Terry’s apartment, thinking about how I’d look dressed up as a girl in a mall, getting long looks from guys who wondered what kind of undies I wore under my dress. Such a rush! Whooh-whee! I wondered if Terry ever felt like this!

 

 

Chapter Three.

The house was sold right after Thanksgiving and our meager belongings went into a monthly rental storage shed. I could retrieve anything I wanted using my own key, as long as I didn’t clutter up my room too much. We sold or junked most of the tattered furniture.

Mrs. Sullivan’s son bought all of the kitchen and laundry appliances at a bargain price, even though we knew he didn’t need them. That was awfully nice of him. I helped him move all of old appliances into the basement and his good stuff into place upstairs. Didn’t hurt my back a bit, lugging that stuff about. My aerobic exercises were proving to be better for me than I ever imagined.

Tom Sullivan told me he planned to "finish" the basement and make a rec. room down there with a pool table and another for ping-pong and another for playing cards. He said he could use a lot of help on weekends with the remodeling.

With the extra money I was making from my former neighbors, I bought Terry Dad and Jane some moderately priced, but nice Christmas presents. I was never lucky enough to have any spare money and what I was earning was burning a hole in my pocket.

It was my first chance to buy nice things for people that really mattered to me. I even bought the older Mrs. Sullivan an inexpensive pendant watch and a pocket radio so she could see what time things happened in the neighborhood and listen to the news reports on the headset without waking up Mr. Sullivan. Terry thought it was a bit forward of me, but I knew she’d like them, anyway.

I was hoping I could soon afford my own computer, rather than using Terry’s. We talked about it and she told me to be patient. She had a lot of files on hers and didn’t want to take a chance that I’d "crash" her hard drive. She’d see what she could do about backing her stuff up, first chance she got.

Jane’s mom had to work Christmas day, so we all got dressed up to visit my dad on Christmas Eve to take him out to a gala dinner with Jane and her mom.

Everything went perfectly. I got to wear my new suit, first one I ever had. I picked it out myself with two pair of pants and a vest that reminded me that men once girdled their stomachs, back in the olden days. Formal men’s vests and a thing called a cummerbund were remnants of the disappearing culture according to the tailor, just as bustiers, teddies and lace-up, satin nighties replaced corsets and girdles once worn by women in days gone by. The old lecher seemed too willing to share that wealth of info with me.

Janie drove her mom’s car so the adults (except dad) could drink a Christmas toast of light wine. Dad, Jane and I shared in the toast. The waiter brought us minors a drink called a Sloe Virgin Martini (Grenadine with white grape juice). Dad’s drink in a tall flute was a house special: "Catalpa Cocktail" (no alcohol) but it tasted just like champagne, according to Terry. Jane’s mom tasted it, too and agreed.

We had a marvelous dinner in a private alcove. Afterwards, Terry and Jane gave the rest of us a big surprise by carrying in the presents from under our respective Christmas trees. We all took turns opening our gifts, having a wonderful time. My first gift looked like a dress shirt box wrapped in elegant foil, but it was too heavy to be a shirt. You guessed it. My own Pentium laptop and Office 2000! Wow!

I could hardly wait to get it home. Home! A strange word for a dumpy fat kid that felt his world was falling apart around him, not so long ago. In a little more than six months, I had a great "big sister", a sweeter than pie girlfriend. --- Dad had his hand over Jane’s mom’s hand, too. She didn’t seem too upset with his interest.

Terry seemed awfully quiet all evening. Otherwise, it was a splendid change of pace. We had lots of reason to celebrate. Terry’s gift to dad was a consultation with a new specialist, a friend of a friend. She’d be in town in a few weeks to go over the findings of dad’s doctors and re-evaluate his options and chances for getting a kidney transplant.

Just as we were leaving, a man rushed up and took Terry in his arms, planting a big kiss on her lips. She introduced him all the way around as Ron Helm, her very best friend, an actor who just returned from up a nine-month engagement in a stage-play, and arrived in town too late to join us for dinner, but came as soon as he could. The look in Terry’s eyes said it all. She was in love with him.

After driving dad back to the hospital, Jane’s mom invited me to stay over, on the couch in the living room, with the door to her room open, and Jane’s room closed just in case. She made it plain that she trusted us, but it was a holiday, and the temptation to cuddle all night was simply too great. Terry laughed and suggested we could have easily gotten it on already if we were of a mind to, and Jane’s mother shouldn’t worry about her daughter’s virtue. "Jane isn’t that kind of girl!"

"Oh, I know that, Terry. A mother has to let her child know she is standing guard once it a while! Makes me feel important and needed. Kids today are so well educated and informed; parents don’t have much to do in raising them anymore.

Things were so different when I was growing up."

Terry and her boyfriend soon ran off together. Jane and I looked at one another and smiled. We knew how they were going to celebrate Christmas together. I knew it wasn’t exactly what Jane thought it would be, but well, it wasn’t right to spoil Jane’s imaginary visions of a torrid night of love. It would be torrid all right, but not quite what Jane was thinking.

 

Chapter Four.

For two weeks after Christmas, Jane and I were inseparable. When decency demanded we part company, we resumed our interludes via computer. We were of one mind, with total compatibility. Near the end of the Christmas break, she talked me into making good on my earlier promise to let her help me put on a real Victorian corset. I thought she was referring to my lacey night corsets.

She arrived early on Saturday, two days before school started again and helped me into a brand new corset, one she secretly ordered by e-mail and bought for me, one made for evening wear, not sleeping. It was extremely stiff with wire struts every two inches, running from top to bottom. It was jet black satin and had four garters on each leg, with tiny rosettes and bows adorning each garter. Terry made sure I was properly "gaffed" before she let Jane join us in my bedroom to lock me into the "iron prison".

I was so excited, but in pain from the restricting jock strap Terry had me wear. After five minutes of agony my ardor subsided and my pain came from the tight lacing they insisted was necessary for the proper effect. Breathing required my conscious effort and made me wonder if having a truly narrow waist was worth all the effort.

My weight was below 160 pounds at the time. Not very low for my height, but with my swimmers muscles on my arms and my legs; my bulky trunk bore most of that. I wasn’t really indecent in front of Jane, as I wore a black cami with thin spaghetti straps that covered much of my torso. Jane had me depilate with her hair removing cream the night before, so I felt smooth as silk from neck to foot.

The big surprise was when they tied off the laces and told me to turn and face the tall mirror on the back of the bedroom door. My waist was half the size of my chest and hips! A lot more chest than hips was squeezed out of the tight tapered tube on my body and my pecs looked just as big as Jane’s breasts, but were pointed down instead of straight out from the extra loose skin that once covered the fat that disappeared from my chest due to my diet and workout regimen.

The two of them worked like demons possessed. They sat me at my desk chair and Terry rolled sheer shiny black nylons up my legs, while Jane worked from behind and put a demi bra over my free floating orbs. She reached into each cup and pulled up my flesh so it sat on top of the pad inside of each bra cup. I gulped in amazement. I had breasts!

Terry told me to close my eyes and not open them until she told me to, brushing and painting my face, while Jane worked on my long hair. When they finished, they told me to look. Three girls stood in the room: Terry, Jane and Donna.

I swooned in delight as Jane’s fingers lingered on both of my nipples, adjusting the placement of my flesh in the bra’s cups. She hugged me from behind and licked me behind my right ear, causing discomfort below.

Terry was first to comment. "Eh, not bad for a first effort, Jane. What would you say? Does Donna have a chance? Will she turn the boys’ heads today?"

I broke in. "No! No way. The deal was a compromise. We stay here. I’m not going anywhere like this. I don’t even know if I can walk in this thing. It’s like a vise. How can I go out? These ‘boobs’ will show right through a sweatshirt, and my waist looks tiny. I’ll look like a sexy girl that likes to tease guys mercilessly, no matter what I wear on top of this!"

"So true, so why hide it? Terry and I will be right beside you, Donna. As long as you keep your voice down to a seductive whisper, no one will be the wiser. We’ll have all afternoon for you to practice your walk and hand gestures. Then it’s off to dinner we go!"

"No, Jane. Please. You promised not to force me into going out in a corset. Why did you buy this guillotine? It’s cutting me in half. How will I be able to get in and out of the car? It’s impossible! How do girls manage?"

Terry spoke. "With a little practice and a lot of care. You’ll be surprised what you can do when you must perform with grace. Your aerobics prepared your body. All you need to do now is prepare your mind. It won’t take long at all. Trust me."

Terry was a grueling taskmaster. She had me pace back and forth throughout the apartment, bending leaning, twisting in place and lifting my legs as high as they’d go to "worry" the corset and conform my body to it’s contour. After about an hour of careful prodding, the corset "settled" and didn’t feel quite as tight. In another hour, it fitted comfortably, and I was getting into the rapturous feeling of confined body-shaping control. She let me rest and blotted my "sheen", without mussing my damp makeup. She explained how girls must be careful not to smear or let a loose drop of perspiration ruin the illusion the makeup creates. I felt like a China doll.

Jane stepped out of Terry’s bedroom with a plastic covered dress that looked like it came right from the cleaners. She assured me it was fairly new and cost her mom a fortune. It was hers, but if I tore it, I’d buy her a new one, so I had better be careful. First, she let a full tight slip glide down over my head. It caught at the breast and hip, so she had to tug it down into place, twice. The tapered slip clung my corseted body, making the curves seem smoother, more natural. Then the black and silver satiny tight dress followed, giving me curves where only a girl should have them. I stood and studied my reflection, reveling in the apparition before me, unbelieving it was me; fat, frumpy, Humpty-Dumpty Donny.

The low neckline let my pushed up pecs show. Terry applied a foundation to the crease between to highlight my "cleavage". When I looked into the mirror on the back of the door, I was all girl! There was no way anyone would know what lay hidden at the juncture of my protruding muscular thighs. I looked like I was built for action and ready for a real man to sweep me off my feet! I stood there and wondered with trepidation for long minutes how I would react if a man tried.

Terry broke my reverie. "Well, do you think you can pull it off? Was Jane right? Could you walk through any shopping mall without being detected? Could be, my dear girl. I think so, Donna, and I know what it takes. You may cause a riot, but not one soul will see anything besides a lovely young girl that could be a model or a starlet. Every man will undress you in his mind’s eye and wish he was good enough to kiss your feet or touch the hem of your pretty dress."

"Do you really think so? No, don’t tell me. I don’t want men falling at my feet. All I really want is to make Jane happy. This could make her jealous, not happy. It’s too much. Can you tone it down a bit, Terry?"

"I thought you’d love a chance to get even with the jerks that always made fun of you when you were younger. Here’s your chance. You could have them eating out of your hand, willing to do anything for you, just to have you smile at them. Be a sport. Live a little. Go back to the mall near your old school. They haven’t seen Donny in over six months. They think Donny moved away when the house was sold. He has, and Donna moved into town. Make them eat dirt, girl."

"Terry! How cruel! Why would I want to do that? I’d be no better than they are by teasing them and laughing in their faces. I can’t do that! Why should I?"

"You’re right, Donna. I missed my chance to get even for what happened to me. I didn’t want you to miss your chance. I knew we could turn an ugly ducking into a beautiful swan, but should have guessed you aren’t a vindictive person, like I was a few years ago. Of course it wouldn’t be nice. Don’t give it a thought."

"Like hell, I won’t! Well, maybe just a little," I snickered, "for Jane’s sake. She wants me to strut my stuff through the shopping mall with her. I hope I don’t outshine her too much. She could hate me for it."

"With me here, girl? Not a chance. She’ll look better than you, after I’m done her makeup! Wait until you see her outfit. Girls can use padding and vise-grip corsets too, you know! Lots more than we boys do. I‘ve been secretly giving her beauty tips and body exercises to firm up her thighs and calves, just like I did for you.

I was to lie back and relax, until they finished getting Jane ready. Jane was much lovelier than I when she emerged from Terry’s bedroom.

The confinement pain within my restrictive gaff when she appeared reminded me that I was still a boy under all the delicate adornments.

They made me take my dress and slip back off. Then, they tugged and pulled at the laces again to get another inch of my waistline to disappear. I had a better figure than a Barbie Doll, and so did Jane. Breathing became difficult for a while. I eventually got used to the vise-like grip on my body. Jane and I sat and talked while Terry went to get ready. She decided she would tag along but stay in the background, only to come to our aid if and when we needed her.

Jane and I were both shocked when Terry appeared before us in a man’s suit, tie and all. She kind of looked like a guy, but traces of her femininity were impossible to disguise. I was surprised by the sound of the doorbell, as we weren’t expecting anyone. "Oh, that must be Ron. I promised him he would be the first one to see the ‘new’ you Donna."

"Is Ron from Christmas Eve here? Oh, I can’t let him see me!" I ran and hid in my bedroom. I didn’t want to go out among strangers, let alone have someone that I barely knew see me. What would he think? Terry knocked on the locked door, so I told her I wasn’t coming out. I asked her to send Jane in to help me remove everything.

"Come out this instant Donna! Ron is a gentleman and an accomplished actor. He sees others in costume all the time and has dressed as a woman himself.

Why are you behaving so rudely? Dressing up for the fun of it isn’t anything to be ashamed of doing. He simply wants to help. Having a man along will make my keeping a close eye on you two less obvious at the mall. He’s here to assure your safety, nothing more."

I relented after she explained and came out of my room. He looked me over and made a spinning motion with his finger pointed down, so I turned in a full circle for him. He smiled and said: "You look fine, Don, or rather, Donna. I’m sorry if you didn’t know I was joining you girls. Terry is right, you know. If some boys get unruly and try to make trouble, Terry wouldn’t be as effective as a mature couple. We won’t interfere, unless the situation warrants it.

Terry and I will follow Jane and you to the mall in my car. If you have car trouble on the way there or on the way back, we can leave Jane’s car, bring you back here, and the two of us men can go to retrieve her car later. I know this is your first time out as a girl, and Terry doesn’t want it to necessarily be your last due to some unfortunate experience."

I took a deep breath and nodded. What he said made sense.

When we got to the mall, it was crowded as usual on a Saturday evening. After my initial jitters, I calmed down, since not one person looked at me in a strange way to indicate they could tell I was an imposter. By the time we left the food concourse, after having a tall, cool drink, I was disappointed that no guys thought I was anything but a piece of fluff to ogle at. I wasn’t used to getting the attention from guys cruising the mall to take in the sights. Their glares made me uneasy, as they were obviously rating me or visualizing what I’d look like without a dress.

Jane spent most of the trip whispering to me how to move to look more attractive as we walked along. I wanted to leave, as the tall iced tea was too much to drink while squeezed into the tight corset. Instead, she drew me into the public ladies’ washroom. We were the only two in there, so I wasted no time and was walking out of the stall when Terry came in to freshen up as well.

"You’re doing fine. Don’t forget to refresh your makeup before you leave. Make sure the back your dress isn’t caught in the waistband of your panties!"

Jane was explaining how to apply lipstick when two matronly ladies came in. We stared at each other silently as the women went about their business without more than a slight nod to us. Under the bright lights in the bathroom, I was sure they’d detect my male features, but they didn’t. We left hurriedly, before either of them came back to the mirrored vanity.

We walked slowly down the main hall, waiting for Terry to come out and resume her tailing us with Ron. I was shaking like a leaf, expecting to be exposed at any moment. It never happened. What did happen was an unavoidable crossing of our path by two boys our age. The boys smiled at us, but I turned up my nose, following Jane’s lead. They boys fell into line about ten feet back and followed us watching our behinds move in the tight dresses.

We stopped at a dress shop display window. The boys were on us in an instant and tried again to strike up a conversation. Jane ignored them and started to jabber to me about some nonsense as if the boys weren’t there. They got the hint and kept walking. When they were beyond the storefront of the dress shop, Jane smiled. "Kind of cute, but their not our type." We giggled and I nodded vigorously.

We started back for the apartment without incident. Terry and Ron caught up to us in the parking lot and we all had a giggling fit about the trip. We spent most of the evening talking about every little detail, roaring in laughter over the slightest thing that happened at the mall. After we had a pizza delivered, and force fed it to ourselves, it was obvious that Ron was interested in being alone wit Terry, so I went to my room, and removed everything but the panty gaff with Jane’s help.

Jane and I took in a movie at a different mall. I had a hard time getting over how people scurry around in a mall like mice in a maze. My new experience made me more aware of the banal nature of strangers forced to negotiate their way.

We cuddled together during the movie. Jane kept interrupting my advances and my concentrating on the movie until I promised to ‘do it’ again. On the way home, she set the date for the following week for my next trip out as a girl.

The second trip out in woman’s clothing was far less exciting, as we wore casual clothes over those tight corsets. The third trip didn’t faze me. I was getting used to being out in public as a girl. After that, I was dressing up in the apartment for no apparent reason. It was innocent fun, and I loved every moment.

 

Chapter Five.

On my fourth trip out, Jane insisted we go to dinner to a restaurant with her mom. Jane had explained my ‘hobby’ to her mom, and her mother wanted to see for herself. To avoid any chance that I would be identified as a boy in a dress, we went to a restaurant on the far side of town. After he had our salads and waited for our entrees, the man who caused trouble for dad and I at the block party came in with the seedy guy who was now living across from our old house.

Neither one noticed me. After a while, a third man joined them. I recognized him from the dad’s annual company picnics. He was one of the corporate officers. The three talked for a while. The man from dad’s company handed the seedy guy an envelope, and took a small package wrapped in brown paper in exchange. Then he left, not eating. The other two remained, and had big steaks.

I explained who they were to Jane and her mother, and asked them to take their time eating, to see what else these two were up to. Half an hour later, another man joined them. The seedy one took out the envelope the company officer gave him and counted out a lot of money from it. He gave the money to the new man and the man looked about the room, furtively. Then he slipped the seedy guy a small packet under the table that he had hidden in the palm of his hand. From the cautious looks they all made, I immediately assumed it was drugs.

Then the latest arrival stood and slapped the seedy guy on the back. I heard him comment as he was leaving. "See you next week. Enjoy." He left quickly as if he was in a hurry. The seedy guy was all smiles. On their way out, they passed our table. I heard him tell the guy that owned the Vincent: "That cousin of yours is an angel, a perfect patsy. We can quadruple his weekly retainer to us as long as my buddy Rudy keeps up delivery ---his voice faded as he walked away.

I wanted to tell Terry what we discovered as quickly as possible. She’d know how to handle the information. After we paid the bill, we hurried to the front door. Jane gave the parking attendant the plastic disk to fetch her car. As we waited for the car to arrive, the two men came out of the restaurant. I didn’t see them until they were right next to the three of us.

They must have stopped at the men’s room on the way out of the restaurant, because I thought they were long gone when we left. I stood, shaking in my high heels as the two of them stood alongside of us and examined us like a pieces of meat. The cycle jockey stared at me as if he knew me, but wasn’t sure. Then his eyes lit up and my heart was in my throat.

"Excuse me, miss. Have we met? Should I know you? You look awfully familiar."

I kept my head straight ahead, and whispered as girlishly as I could. "I don’t think so sir, I’m from out of town, here to visit, to visit my sick uncle. It’s my first time in town. I doubt if we’ve ever met."

"My misfortune, miss. Sorry to impose, but I could swear I’ve met you before. I’d be happy to show you around town, see the sights, so to speak, if you’re going to be in town for a while. Maybe I’ll remember where we’ve met before."

"I’m sorry, but no thank you."

Then, he added: "You’re uncle’s name isn’t Henderson by any chance, is it?"

My head reeled, and I felt faint. He knew! He must have read me! If not, he would soon figure it out. Fortunately, Jane’s mother’s car arrived and we rushed to get in and leave before he thought of some way to detain us further.

Jane’s mother turned and chided the man before entering the car. "You should be ashamed of yourself. She’s just a child."

The three of us went straight to Terry’s apartment to explain what we saw at the restaurant. In our excitement, we blurted everything out rapid fire, too fast to make much sense. After calming us down, Terry and Ron had us repeat every detail of first: the meeting with the corporate officer and second: the visitor the two men had given money to, and finally the cycle jockey’s self-introduction and corny pick-up line which hinted of the cycle jockey’s recognition.

"Did you come straight here from the restaurant?"

"Yes. Why?"

Ron offered: "If your admirer figured out who you are, he might have followed you here. We have to assume he knows who you are and can trace you here if he wants to. It may not be safe for you to stay here if you witnessed a drug deal."

"What’ll we do? Where can I go? If I leave here as Don, he’ll know for sure! As Donna, he’s bound to follow me and figure it out, eventually."

Terry responded. "First things first. We have to alert the attorneys what you saw at the restaurant. We’ll let them advise us. In the meantime, Ron can help you to change your appearance. He’s an actor. He’s an expert with stage make-up.

Ron, can you help Donny look older?"

"Sure, Terry. Say. They don’t know me. I can get Donny out of here as my date. If we’re followed, we can lead them to a packed dance hall and then lose them in the crowd. I know just the place."

An hour later, Ron took me to a dance hall, introduced me to an old friend of his, a middle aged woman named Ruth. She soon led me backstage into the ladies dressing rooms, switched wigs with me and redid my makeup to look like hers. She then changed her own makeup to look somewhat like me. I was surprised to find she wasn’t middle aged at all, but was dressed to look older. We exchanged only our blouses, as we wore similar skirts. When we rejoined Ron at a table, he introduced me to Ruth’s date, Tom. He was cleverly made up to look older, too.

Tom escorted me out of the dance hall and we left undetected. We went straight to Ruth’s apartment and called Terry to tell her we arrived safely and waited.

It was late when Terry arrived with two of dad’s attorneys and a police officer. Ron and Ruth called. They checked into a hotel safely, and awaited instructions. Jane and her mother both had gone home with a policewoman for protection, followed by Terry and the two lawyers. They were safe. No one followed them. The cycle jockey and his seedy cohort followed Ron and me to the dance hall. Terry saw the car pull away and tail us as Ron and I left her apartment, then she called the lawyers.

We didn’t know that the lawyers received the accounting report prepared by the independent accounting firm. A sales vice-president was diverting commissions due on customers’ accounts from several dismissed salesmen to his own personal commissions account.

As repeat sales dwindled from the inactive dismissed salesmen, he continued to discredit more sales personnel to keep up the volume needed to sustain his drug habit and to make the weekly payoffs to his newly established blackmailing cousin and his seedy partner. He was caught in a trap of his own making.

The lawyers hired detectives who found he also supplied recreational drugs to other key personnel, so his exploits were not limited to himself. Other corporate officers participated and knew of the company’s policy to cheat some of their salesmen and eventually fire them. They were careful to limit their unfair firing to those who had problems of their own, and would be least likely to cause trouble.

The case was no longer a civil issue over unfair employment policies. Their acts involved a criminal felony to defraud, coupled with felonious drug trafficking. The criminals were dangerous, as they did not know the extent of the discovery.

The police were not aware of Donna’s recent female impersonations nor could they avert the chance observation of the drug exchanges by Donna, Jane and her mom at the restaurant without potentially alerting one of the perpetrators and upsetting the entire sting operation at the last minute.

The criminals might still feel they could avert detection of their scheme if they silenced any witness to the criminal acts the wheels of justice require adequate proof, and therefore move slowly. Donna, Jane and her mom had witnessed not one, but two drug transfers. The foolproof sting operation to capture all of the culprits with possession of the drugs or "marked" money was already in motion.

Testimony from Donna, Jane and her mom would support the arrests and assure quick convictions, but until the culprits knew they were set up and caught in the act, there was the certain risk that the criminals might attempt to intercept and silence any witness. Therefore the three "women" would remain under very close police protection until all of the criminals were apprehended and safely in jail.

There was the chance that some drug trafficker up the line from pusher named Rudy would find a need to silence Donna, Jane and her mom.

 

 

To be continued.

 

 

 


© 2000
The above work is copyrighted material. Anyone wishing to copy, archive, or re-post this story must contact the author for permission.