Class Play              by: Alyssa Davis

 

"No, no, Sally. You don’t have enough feeling!" I shouted. I had been assigned as student director for our senior class play, under the supervision of Mrs. Pearson, our drama teacher. We were into the second day of rehearsal and Mrs. Pearson was still sorting out talent. This was a combined audition and rehearsal. In twelve short weeks, we were to perform, in front of an audience, what seemed like an impossible task.

"Let me show you what I mean." I jumped up on stage and demonstrated to Sally how I thought the lines should have been acted out. The story was about two television news anchors, a male and a female, who were competing for the lead position on the news program. The lady, the junior member of the team, was trying hard for the job, taking it very seriously, while her male partner, convinced that he was secure in his position, didn’t consider her a threat to his job and, instead, was constantly trying to hit on her for a date, causing a major distraction. In this scene, Sally’s character was conducting an on-camera interview with a prominent person. She was acting out her lines, but not very convincingly, not as if she was portraying a person struggling for her career. I took Sally’s position in the interview and read her lines, projecting my voice and attitude with the confidence of an experienced anchor woman, complete with feminine hand gestures and voice inflections as I wanted her to do. When I had finished, Mrs. Pearson, watching from the audience position, applauded, saying, "excellent Mark, you did that very well. That’s how I also see the part played." She approached the stage, motioned me over to her and said quietly, "I want you to take Sally’s part and let her direct. You know exactly how the part should be read. Your talent should be in front of the curtain, not behind it."

"But Mrs.Pearson, the part is written for a female. Diane is an anchor WOMAN…we cant change that," I proclaimed with alarm...(another act). My heart was beating fast...I would love to take a girl’s part. The thought of it excited me in places that felt good. I’ve been playacting as a girl for years, ever since my older sister Ann started dressing me in her clothes when we were little and having pretend tea parties. With Ann’s help, I’ve learned to enjoy pretending I was a girl; watching real girls, how they dress, walk, talk, gesture, their makeup and hairstyles, everything. I’m totally fascinated by the feminine mystique. I never have associated well with boys. I’m too frail for most athletic activities and I don’t care for them anyway. Demonstrating to Sally how her part should be read came natural to me, and Mrs. Pearson thought I was acting.

"Yes, I’m aware that it’s a woman’s part, Mark, but this is theater and a good thespian can play any role. You’re a talented young man, I know you can handle the part. You’re not a very large boy and could easily take a female’s part, and you read the lines so well. You prove to me that you’re capable and you’ll get your A grade for the course. Consider it a test."

At 5’5" and 127 pounds, I was slight for a boy but fine for a girl. She was correct about my gender swapping. I knew I could be a passable girl.

Mrs. Pearson was unknowingly asking me to do what I have dreamed of and I was to be rewarded with an A grade as well! I reminded her that there were romantic scenes in the play that would be very awkward for all of us...two males kissing on stage. She said that added to the challenge of me presenting myself as a woman...if I could convince everyone, the visual impact would be diminished. She wouldn’t let go. Actually, I really didn’t want her to; I was hoping she wouldn’t accept my mild protests. I had to make it look like I was being coerced. She reminded me that Ann was in her class last year, performed a difficult part in their class play, did an excellent job, and she expected no less from me. ‘Oh darn,’ I thought, ‘I always have to walk in my sister’s shoes....now I get to walk in the rest of her clothes, too.’

So, I started to learn the lines for Diana, the anchorwoman. On Friday afternoon, Mrs. Pearson called me to her office for a chat. After a lengthy approach, she finally addressed the subject that good actors traditionally get into the character for their role, even as they study for it. It helps tremendously. I was almost afraid to ask what she had in mind, but I didn’t have to...she said I should be crossdressed when I study my lines and thereafter, as much as possible to feel like the woman I was portraying and get in the proper frame of mind. She realized I couldn’t attend class in a skirt, but I could certainly dress in an androgynous style and wear girls underwear under my clothes to keep me in the mood. With that in mind, she had arranged to get me excused from physical ed. so I’d have no problem in the locker room with my peers. She also took the liberty of talking to my sister and my parents who all agreed to help me with the part. I guess she did everything but arrange for me to have sex change surgery, and she wasn’t going to argue the issue, not that I was going to give her any. When I arrived home that day, Ann was ready for me. This is what she was always waiting for...I guess we both were. She knew my innermost feelings.

"Mark, Mrs. Pearson called me! She told me about the part you’re playing and wants my help."

"Yes, I know, she told me too, and of course you refused, right?"

"Oh yeah, right…you bet I did...and you get to start immediately! Can you believe it...we don’t have to hide anymore," she whispered, "You can be out in the open." Without hesitation, she handed me an ensemble of her underwear…hose, panties and a bra. "Put these on...from now on, their yours. We’re going to be sisters!"

"Don’t get carried away, Sis. It’s only a part in a play. It’ll soon be over, then back into the closet." I went to my room and willingly changed into my new things. I had put on the panties and was struggling with the bra hooks when she came in and helped me. She reminded me that next time, I should hook it in the front and rotate the bra around, putting the straps on last. "Better get used to that," she said, "it’s going to be a regular thing for you now." I did know, but in the excitement, I forgot. Then, she handed me a slip, skirt and sweater to wear. I padded the bra with tissues. I had always felt so natural dressed this way. My female persona emerged as my appearance changed from boy to girl…the real me.

I knew I’d have no problem playing Diane, the TV anchorwoman. I’ve been playing Marla, the name Ann gave me, for years. Since we were very young, we’ve been having dress up parties in secret with Ann using me as her personal "Barbie Doll" and I have enjoyed every minute of it. That is, I enjoyed the clothes, but it never progressed into where she taught me many feminine mannerisms. It wasn’t her intent to transform me into a girl, but rather just to use me as a clothing model. But the interest was always there, and I learned much on my own.

"This will surely help put you in character," she said, jokingly. I finished dressing, cross dressing, and went downstairs to study. With Ann’s clothes and my long hair, I easily looked every bit like a girl. Mom saw me for the first time and commented on how pretty I looked. She had never seen me dressed to this extent, it was a well kept secret, but now, she wasn’t surprised...Mrs. Pearson had gotten to her also. I stayed home all weekend and openly lounged around the house in my sister’s skirts and dresses. Ann and Mom loved my new look and went out of their way to treat me like a real girl. Dad stayed neutral, but was glad I was making the best of an awkward situation. Oh yes, I agreed with him...it was painful to be put through this, but I was up to it. Ann, now in earnest, performed her duty and coached me on all the fine points: how a girl sits in a skirt, how she walks, talks and acts. We’d play acted a little before, but now it was to be for an audience. Mom filled in what Sis left out. My mother helping me do what I always wanted to do but kept secret from her for years...how ironic!

Every morning, I routinely put on my panties, pantyhose, and a bra (without any pads) under Ann’s slacks or jeans and tops, and went to school. It took only a short while for my erection to subside from the sensation of these delightful items against my skin. I had worn girl’s underwear many times, but never around other people, especially my peers. At first, I felt a little strange, embarrassed, "different", thinking I’d be noticed, but very quickly, the "feeling" become very natural. I wore Ann’s sweaters or a jacket so my bra didn’t show, always wishing that I could let it be seen. It was odd, looking at the girls now in a different light, and knowing that I was wearing all the same clothing they had on. Something I always wished I could do. Mrs. Pearson was right, I found myself identifying with them even more...like we had something special in common. I think I was acting different to them, maybe a little more effeminate, certainly more in common, because they became unusually warm and friendly with me after school, even offering to help me study. Of course, the word was out that I was playing a girl’s part, and the girls loved it. Odd, the boys sympathized with me...they knew Mrs.Pearson!

As directed, I continued to wear Ann’s clothes at home, with the family’s consent and encouragement! I even got the courage to venture out in public dressed in more feminine attire such as dresses and heels, with Ann. This took more courage from me since I had never done so in the past. I had to adjust to being seen in skirts and dresses…and the sensation of feeling of being so naked and vulnerable with the cool breezes flowing up my skirt. It was wonderful! Her friends thought I looked wonderful and appreciated what I was being forced to do. My small size, long hair, and cosmetics, with Ann’s help, made me a passable young lady, especially in high heels. I even tried, for contrast, going out in my own clothes, with minimal makeup, and was still mistaken for a girl. It was great. I seemed to be in a perpetual state of sexual euphoria. Must learn to control that. For the play, I might have to tie my maleness back...a bulge in my skirt would be disastrous. I was taking nightly bubble baths, pampering my skin with lotions and cremes, and conditioning my hair to enhance it’s body and sheen. I didn’t have to do all this, but I wanted to maintain " the mood" and also found it delightfully satisfying to do feminine things. My effeminate gestures and mannerisms became instinctive, impressing Mom and myself. Maybe too much so. I mustn’t lose sight of the fact that I was a boy and would have to revert back, but I did so enjoy being a girl. And, I was receiving so much encouragement. Mom was very pleased that I was so involved in the school play, especially with such an important part but she also had adjusted to having two daughters.

As Marla, I was even into helping her set the table, doing dishes and other domestic chores. This, of course, delighted Ann. Mom openly admitted she was going to miss having another daughter after the play. That pleased me...she considered me a daughter. And I admit, I loved being her daughter. Mrs. Pearson was right, you do get into the character by living the part. I was feeling very womanly, and as I read my lines, they were noticeably becoming very natural.

The dress rehearsal date was approaching. I had asked Frank, my leading man, to come over so we could rehearse alone together before doing our thing in front of the other cast members. It was to be a major adjustment for both of us. He was pleasantly surprised to see me so pretty while dressed as a girl, in a skirt, blouse, and high heels, although he knew Mrs. Pearson had ordered me to do it. We practiced our roles, repeating until we were satisfied, and skipping the romantic parts. Frank was impressed by how ladylike I was in the part and how perfectly I read my lines. I told him I’d had a lot of practice at home, and I was feeling the character, being in woman’s clothes all the time, something professional actors do. He was surprised that I actually followed through with crossdressing full time and had taken to so well. I couldnt tell him my real feelings, that in my heart, I was a girl!

After several sessions together, we decided that we had everything down except the love scenes which we knew had to be done. I invited Frank for a final run-through. For this, I dressed especially pretty for him, wearing a casual cotton dress revealing my extra-padded bra, tan stockings, high-heels and my hair up with a few strands hanging on each side, along with pendent earrings. In this outfit, I looked petite and very feminine. I wanted Frank to forget that I was a male. We went through our roles one last time, skipping nothing. I decided to make it even more real for Frank, so I had also put on pink lipstick and a dab of perfume behind my ears and on my bosom. I told Frank it would add to the realism. We came to the part were Ron, the anchorman, convinces Diane to date him, and, at the end of the date, where she stops feuding and warms up to him, he kisses her. We were both nervous. Neither of us looked forward to the impending kiss, but this is Theater Arts. Frank took me into his arms and planted a quick kiss on my lips.

I said, "is that it? Is that how you kiss a girl on a date?" I asked, trying to be professional.

"I cant forget you’re not a girl, Mark," he replied shyly.

"In this part, I am a woman, Frank. We’re actors, remember? Keep telling yourself she’s a woman. Close your eyes, use your imagination! And my name is MARLA."

Frank looked at me, surprised, then smiled. He hesitated, than pulled me into his arms and kissed me fully on the lips.

"That’s a little better. But watch."

I grabbed Frank and kissed him full on the mouth with my mouth open, holding him tightly. I had no problem feeling that I was a woman. I was dressed for it and completely in character. He could taste my lipstick and smell the essence of my perfume. He could feel my soft skin. My long, silky, womanly hair. I think the image of my femininity hit him. He relaxed and pulled me tightly to his body, becoming the aggressor at which time I submitted. His lips parted, our tongues met. His mouth tasted so sweet. I had gotten to him like a woman kissing a man, and I was the woman. All that getting into character had affected me. I was getting aroused, and so was he. We both got erect, our hard members becoming obvious to each other. I liked what I was doing to him...but I also enjoyed what he was doing to me. I didn’t want to stop. How will I ever be able to get out of the female character, I wondered? We broke the kiss and Frank slumped into a chair. He began to blush as he tried to cover his bulge in the presence of a girl.

"Now, my dear, am I not a woman?" I asked, sounding and feeling very much like one. In a sense, I knew what I was feeling towards Frank wasn’t right, but how could anything so good be so bad?

"I…I’m not sure, Marla. I’m beginning to wonder what you are? I know you’re really a male, but you look, act, and kiss like a woman." He called me Marla...I liked that.

"Thank you, Frank, I’ve worked very hard to get that effect. We’re going to have to do that in the play several times for three performances, so get used to it," I warned. I was ready.

I was enjoying myself. Frank was a big guy, and very handsome, something I had just begun to notice. Kissing him wasn’t all that bad, in fact, it was great, although I’d never kissed a boy before, but then, I’d never felt this much like a woman before either. I had become totally immersed in this role of Diane, the TV anchor, or was it Marla?

We went over that part one more time, this time Frank, at the proper moment, took me into his arms and, without hesitation, kissed me warmly on my lips. I submitted and returned his kiss. We held the position longer than we needed, but neither wanted to break. I gently stroked the back of his head while his hand began to grope me, feeling its way to my bra and it’s padded cups. I welcomed his touch. I reached down and touched his groin, hard with arousal, with my open hand. He pressed in closer. I had never touched another boy’s organ before, but I felt no shame. I was feeling very feminine at this moment and had forgotten that we were both boys. Finally, I pulled away.

"My goodness! You certainly take a girl’s breath away," I said, girlishly arranging my hair.

This time he gave me no argument about my gender. He asked me if I’d like to go out with him for some ice cream. I declined saying I didn’t dare to go out in public in girl’s clothes and I didn’t want to bother to change, but thanks anyway. I didn’t tell him as Marla, I’d been out many times with Ann. Frank left and I went up to freshen my lipstick, though I don’t know why. Ann noticed me wearing her lipstick, something I rarely did, and I told her why I was wearing it. She agreed what I did was a good idea to enhance my image for Frank to kiss me. That night, I slept in a silk nightgown...I didn’t want to break the spell.

The next day, we had the dress rehearsal, my first public appearance in woman’s clothes where my peers would recognize me.. This time, I had to go all out and look my best. My costume was a woman’s business suit: a short skirt, blouse, jacket, nylons and high heels. Necklace and earrings completed the outfit. I had my ears pierced so I could wear earrings. Ann had wanted me to do it years ago, but now we could use this part as the excuse. My own long hair was pulled back into a bun and tied with a black ribbon. With the theatrical makeup, I was stunning, especially with a naturally formed bra under my blouse, and everybody was amazed at my chest development. Mom and Ann had pitched in and bought me silicon breast forms for my bra. The shape and weight of my new bosom, proportionate to my figure, was so genuine, it gave me additional poise. I walked, acted, and sat like a real lady. I wasn’t the least bit self conscious...Mrs. Pearson knew what she was doing, getting me into character for the part so far in advance, and my sister’s coaching gave me confidence. The rehearsal went perfectly, and the kissing scenes went very well. The cast forgot that I was Mark, a boy, I think Frank did too.

He was relaxed...our kisses were short but very real man-woman embraces.

The play’s public performances went smoothly, and were followed by the usual cast party. Of course, I went as Diane, my character, in full makeup and with my hair professionally coifed for the play. I totally loved my appearance and I would not have changed if they asked me. The girls buzzed around treating me as if I was one of them, and I did feel like a real woman, thanks to Mrs. Pearson. I had even gotten dressed and had my makeup done in the girl’s dressing room where I was accepted by all the others without question. After all, I couldn’t very well do that in the boy’s room. While sitting in my panties, bra and slip, I was even invited to a slumber party! Of course, I accepted. Even the boys complimented me and said what a good sport I was for taking the part (like I had a choice), and how pretty I was. I think my small size and my acquired femininity had made people forget I was still a boy.

At the party, Frank quietly asked me leave with him and get a bite to eat. This time I didn’t decline. I was dressed perfectly and ready to be seen. We dined, and went for a short walk in the park, (I was wearing high heels) holding hands. I felt no guilt about that and, I guess, neither did Frank. We sat and talked for a while. He put his arm around me and asked me what my plans were, that is, did I intend to continue to dress as a girl. I replied that I might...that it was fun and I had begun to enjoy it. I asked him why he wanted to know. He replied that he thought Marla was attractive and he wanted to date her. He wanted to forget I was male. He wanted to call me Marla. I told him I loved the name, and yes, Marla would go out with him. With that, he kissed me, better than we had rehearsed, a warm, wet, passionate kiss. As a man kisses a woman. He had genuine feelings for me, this time. While embraced, we gently touched each other all over, escalating our desire, but quitting before we lost control.

I told Ann about Frank wanting to date Marla, while I was undressing in her room. She thought that would be fun for me to experience dating as a girl, especially since it meant that I’d want to continue to openly cross dress, if only occasionally. I knew I’d have trouble being a boy again. I never wanted to be a boy in the first place. She enjoyed having a sister and promised to help me. I told her Marla enjoyed being her sister and wouldn’t disappoint her. She might even wind up with a brother-in-law.

I got my A grade.

 

Epilog.

I continued dressing as a girl full time, in school wearing androgynous looking jeans and tops, and out of school in skirts and dresses as the occasion necessitated. For me, Mark ceased to exist.

After graduation, I became Marla full time, Frank and I became steady dates. I found employment as a woman and became engaged to Frank. We ultimately became life partners living as husband and wife. I had found my true self.

 

 

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