Don’t Knock It

by Emily Ross

 

"Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it."

"What?" said Johnny to his flatmate.

"I said ‘Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it’," replied Dan.

"What’s that supposed to mean?" Johnny pressed the off button on the remote control as the credits scrolled up the screen. Dan said nothing.

"Are you trying to tell me something?" asked Johnny. They’d been watching a programme on cross-dressing. It had been Dan’s idea. Johnny had wanted to watch a programme about a heavy metal band he thought he liked.

"Maybe I am," said Dan enigmatically. "Maybe I’m not."

"You are trying to tell me something," said Johnny. "Do you like to show your feminine side, Dan? Do you like to wear pretty dresses?"

"What if I do? There’s no law against it."

"Well fancy that," Johnny laughed. "My flatmate and best friend is a transvestite."

"I prefer the term cross-dresser," said Dan.

‘So he’s admitted it,’ thought Johnny. ‘I wonder what clothes he’s got. I wonder what I’d find if I went into his room now.’ He almost got up to force his way into Dan’s room and search for women’s clothing. ‘Better not,’ he thought. ‘We both need our privacy.’ He smiled to himself.

"What are you laughing at?" asked Dan.

"Nothing."

"No. What are you laughing at?"

"I was just trying to imagine what you look like in a little off-the-shoulder number." Johnny couldn’t help smiling.

"And what’s so funny about that?" Dan was getting more heated. He was beginning to regret coming out to his friend, something that he’d been trying to do for some months. A few lagers watching the television had loosened his tongue. He hadn’t planned to say anything this evening. It just came out when Johnny made some politically incorrect comment about cross-dressers at the end of the programme.

Johnny said nothing. He realised that he’d overstepped the mark. "Anyway," Dan continued, "you don’t need to imagine what I look like. I’ll dress up for you tomorrow night."

"Look, you don’t need…" Johnny tried to be the peacemaker.

"No. You want to see what I look like. I’ll show you." Dan was getting aggressive.

His friend tried again to calm things down. "Look, Dan, I didn’t mean to upset you. Let’s just forget about it. OK?"

"No, Johnny, it’s not OK. I can’t just forget about it even if you can. I’ve said I’ll dress for you and dress for you I will. I’ve got a half day tomorrow. You won’t get in from work until around seven. I’ll come home early in the afternoon, get changed and then cook something for both of us, ready for when you get in. OK?"

"OK."

-

Dan and Johnny both woke up next day in what Johnny called an ‘Oh my God mood.’

‘Oh my God,’ thought Dan. ‘I’ve told him. And I’ve promised to dress this evening.’ He hadn’t really got a half-day at work. It was just that if he got up early he could complete his calls by early afternoon. He sometimes did this so that he could spend the afternoon dressed alone in the flat. Only he’d never dressed in front of anyone else before.

He had a lot to do. He was out of the flat before Johnny was awake.

‘Oh my God,’ thought Johnny. ‘My best friend Dan’s a tranny. I’ve known him five years and never suspected anything. Personally I’d prefer to be still in the dark. Is he gay? He’s had lots of girlfriends? What about Kristin? She’s away at university in Bristol and only comes here at weekends. Does she know about this? And now he’s going to dress up for me tonight. What will he be wearing? Jeans? Trousers? Highly unlikely. Not much point in dressing as a girl and wearing trousers. He’ll wear a skirt. Or maybe a dress. The trannies in that programme all wore skirts or dresses. Short ones mainly. Would Dan wear a mini? What will his legs be like? What shoes will he wear? High heels? Would he wear make up? Perfume? A wig? Jewellery?’

Johnny sat at his desk in his office trying to concentrate on his work but it was no good. Thoughts kept flying around his brain, still thinking of what Dan had told him, what would be happening later, what Dan would wear. ‘What about underwear? He’ll have to wear a bra, of course, to give him boobs. But what about a lacy camisole, a petticoat, panties? Will Dan be wearing panties? Lacy ones.’

Johnny did not need to have any worries on that score. Dan was already dressed in jade green French knickers with a matching camisole – under his male clothes of course. Nobody could tell what he was wearing but it made him feel really good. He too was finding it hard to concentrate, his mind always returning to the prospects for the afternoon and the evening.

What was he going to wear? He’d already ruled out his favourite two outfits. Well one of them was a French maid’s uniform; black dress with a white lace trim, white apron and cap, black fishnets and stilettos. It wouldn’t give the right impression.

The other outfit was a schoolgirl’s uniform, white blouse, school tie, short pleated skirt, white ankle socks and black Mary Jane shoes. Dan liked to plait his hair and tie it up in little ribbons. He didn’t think it would give the right impression either.

As he drove to another client he had plenty of time to think about what he would do later in the day. He’d have to wear a skirt, of course. Or a dress? Not too short. He didn’t want his friend to think he was a slut. Not too long either. He didn’t want to look frumpy. ‘What about that black dress?’ he thought. ‘No. It’s much too short. What about the black skirt? It’s about two inches above the knee. Maybe three. It goes nicely with black or plain tights. Tights? What about stockings? They’re so much more feminine. I’ve got a black seamed pair somewhere.’

‘Hold on. Will he be able to see my suspenders? What will Johnny think if sees I’m wearing stockings? No I’ll stick to tights. I’d like to wear a petticoat. They feel so nice as they rub against my legs. A little bit of lace showing can be sexy and feminine without being tarty.’

‘That’s settled,’ he said to himself as he drove to his last call. ‘The black skirt, white blouse; that means I’ve got to wear a white bra, matching panties, the lacy white waist slip, nude tights and what shoes? The black stilettos? Could I wear them all evening? They’re not very comfortable. What would Johnny think of me in them? Oh, what the hell. I like them; it’s got to be the stilettos.’

‘What about my hair? The blonde wig? It’s nice but it makes me look like a bimbo. The long brown one? What about the shoulder length bob? Dark brown and very attractive. The long one will make me too hot. Let’s wear the bob.’

All settled, Dan suddenly panicked. ‘What if Johnny told my secret to somebody else?’ he wondered. ‘What if he confided in a mutual friend like Kevin? Or Carl? What if he told Kristin? Oh my God.’

He got out his mobile. He rang Johnny’s mobile number. Johnny was still in his office.

"Hello."

"Hi, Johnny, it’s Dan, You haven’t forgotten about our plans for tonight have you?"

"No," replied Johnny. "You’re not backing out, are you? Mind you I wouldn’t blame you if you did."

"No, I’m not backing out. I’ve said I’ll do it, OK? I was just ringing to remind you not to come home early. I don’t want you coming home before I’m ready."

"Sure, Dan," said Johnny, "I’ll be back at seven. I won’t use my key. I’ll ring the front door bell. Just so you know it’s me I’ll ring it three times, ring-ring-ring. OK?"

"And Johnny…"

"Yeah."

"You haven’t told anybody else about this, have you?"

"Of course not. I won’t tell a soul."

"Thanks, mate. Bye."

"Bye. And I promise not to tell anyone. "

Dan folded away his phone and put it in his pocket.

‘What am I thinking of?’ thought Dan as he continued his rounds, trying to get them over as quickly as possible. ‘I can wear any of the colours of the rainbow and I choose to wear something drab and black. Black is for funerals – or for men! I must be more adventurous what can I wear?’

His mind wandered through every item in his wardrobe. What image did he want to portray? He decided he wanted to be feminine, fun and fashionable. He wanted to be exciting, lively and the centre of attention.

He then thought about what image he did not want to portray. He decided he didn’t want to be butch, boring or dull. Nor did he want to be a tart with too much make up and too little clothing.

Dan eventually settled on a pink skirt with a cream and red floral pattern. (Feminine) It was knee length but tight so that if he crossed his legs it rode up his thighs a little. (The centre of attention?) He would wear nude tights, white high heels and plenty of jewellery; anklet, bracelets, necklace, rings and ear-rings. (Fun)

He decided on a pale blue top that revealed a little bit of midriff. (Fashionable) The top was tight enough to ensure that the bra line underneath was clearly visible. (Exciting?) On the top was printed the word, GIRL. (Lively)

A splash of make up, a spritz of perfume, bright red nails and the blonde wig (Why not look like a bimbo? Is there anything wrong with that?) and he’d be ready.

As he left his last customer Dan could tell he was shaking with anticipation. He could hardly get the key in the ignition. He drove like a maniac in a hurry to get back to the flat.

Once there he locked the front door behind him and started his transition. It was two thirty. First he had a long, hot bubble bath. He washed the dirt of the day off himself but also shaved his legs, body and armpits so that he was completely hairless. Out of the bath he slipped on his dressing gown while he found his gaff, panties, bra and tights. Then he shaved his face with a new razor blade and then painted his finger and toenails bright red as he had promised. He was still shaking as he did his fingers and kept telling himself to calm down and not to rush.

He took off the dressing gown and put all on the underwear. Then he sat on his bed and slid on his tights, taking extra care not to snag them. He stood up and examined himself in the mirror. It was amazing how much better his legs looked in the tights. ‘But wouldn’t stockings be better?’ he wondered.

Dan was tempted. He found a pair of white suspenders and nude stockings. Sitting down again he peeled off the tights and circumspectly slipped on the stockings and slowly slid them up his thighs. He stood up again and wrapped the suspender belt around his waist, did it up and straightened it. He carefully pulled each of the four straps through his panties and attached them to the stocking tops.

He studied himself again in the mirror. ‘That’s good,’ he thought. He was already feeling excited but tried to ignore the sensations.

Then he started to find all the other things he would need; he got out his make-up and put it all on the top of his chest of drawers. He didn’t have a make-up table. He found the perfume and his small amount of jewellery from which he’d have to choose an anklet, bracelets, a necklace, rings and ear-rings.

He had already decided on the blonde wig but he got all three of his wigs out of the drawer, just in case and put them on the bed.

Dan then opened his wardrobe. Hidden at the back were his feminine clothes. It wasn’t cheap keeping two different sets of clothes one male and one female. Dan felt a little guilty that he’d spent some of his money on skirts and dresses when he really needed a new suit for work.

He scrutinised every outfit, imagining how he looked in it, trying to remember when he’d last worn it and the sensations it had given; the school uniform skirt, blouse and tie – he’d worn it for a whole evening a few months before when Johnny was away at a conference. It looked great with white ankle socks and Mary Janes with the long dark wig in plaits, tied in ribbons. It felt great too.

The cheerleader’s costume that he’d recently bought through mail order. Dan loved the short pleated skirt, the white socks, the stretchy top and, of course, the pom-poms. Not for now though.

The two short dresses. Both very suitable for an evening in a club for neither long enough to wear for Johnny. Shame, thought Dan. He loved the feeling of wearing them.

The French maid’s uniform; black dress, white lace trim, white lacy apron and cap. It looked and felt great with black fishnets and stilettos. Dan looked at the clock. 3.45. He was alarmed that an hour and a quarter had already passed and he wasn’t dressed. There wouldn’t be time to wear it…

Hold on. Dan was tempted again. ‘I don’t want to do the cooking in the clothes I’ll wear for Johnny,’ he thought. ‘And I’ve got to iron them and clean up. What better outfit to wear than the maid’s? If I keep these stockings on, I’ll save time.’

In a few minutes he was wearing the maid’s dress, the apron, the blonde wig, the cap, stilettos and a little make up. He would shave and do his make up again before Johnny got home.

‘Wow,’ he thought as he looked in the mirror. ‘You look good.’ He found the ‘GIRL’ top and the pink skirt and got out the iron and ironing board. For 15 minutes the maid ironed the clothes and then tidied up, always bending carefully to make sure he didn’t expose his panties or suspenders – even if there was nobody to see them. He felt elated in his favourite costume. The bra was constricting and tight. The suspenders were not built for comfort. The shoes awkward but they all made him feel wonderful.

He then prepared the dinner – moussaka, something he could leave in the oven until Johnny arrived which would allow him to do the final touches such as his make up.

-

The food was ready. Dan’s watch said six o’clock. Plenty of time. Still another hour but he was shaking like a leaf. He went to the loo for the third time in ten minutes. He went to the cupboard and found the vodka bottle. He poured himself a large one and added Red Bull and ice. That made him feel better. He laid the table and finished preparing the salad. When he was happy that everything in the kitchen was perfect, he went back to his bedroom. It was a shame to take off the maid’s outfit.

He slipped on his dressing gown and went to the bathroom. He removed his make up and shaved again. Back in the bedroom he put on the ‘GIRL’ top and the pink skirt. He slipped on the high heels and the jewellery. He brushed the wig until he was satisfied it looked good and then started on his make up. ‘Not too much,’ he kept telling himself. ‘You don’t want to look like a tart.’

He thought he’d done a good job. He sprayed the perfume on his neck and a dab on each arm. His watch said 6.47. He was ready for his date and there was time for another vodka.

He checked the food in the oven and then sat in the living room with his drink. The lipstick stain on the glass made him smile nervously. ‘Oh my god,’ he thought. ‘What have I let myself in for?’

Two minutes to seven and the doorbell rang. Three times, ring-ring-ring, as Johnny had promised.

Dan finished the drink. Stood up and tottered into the hall, taking deep breaths to hide his nervousness. He tugged down the hem of his skirt and opened the front door. Johnny stood there with a bunch of flowers and a bottle of wine.

He stepped across the threshold, "Dan?" He found it hard to believe it was his friend.

Dan nodded hardly able to speak.

"Wow," said Johnny, "you look…" He paused. Was it for effect? Was it to find the right words? "…out of this world."

"Thanks," said Dan hoping it was a compliment. Johnny stood still for a few moments eyeing his friend up and down, taking in what he was wearing.

"Oh, these are for you, Dan," said Johnny handing over the flowers awkwardly.

"Thanks, but please don’t call me Dan. I’m Tanya, OK?"

"I’ll try to remember."

"I’d better get a vase for these."

Dan led the way into the kitchen. He bent down very carefully to get a vase from a low cupboard, knowing full well that his skirt would ride half way up his thigh. He had realised that this would happen at some stage, but he hadn’t expected it so soon. Fortunately his stocking tops and suspenders seemed to remain hidden from view.

He found the vase, noticing all the time Johnny’s reaction out of the corner of his eye. He stood up and put down the vase so that he could smooth his skirt down again. Then he filled the vase with water and put the flowers into it making an effort and arranging them nicely. "They look great. Thanks," he said. "Now if you’re ready, you open the wine and sit down, I’ll dish out."

Johnny did as instructed. This meant that he couldn’t see Dan’s legs as he sat down opposite. Neither had much of an appetite and neither said anything over dinner. Johnny thought that to ask about the obvious subject would be intrusive and to try another topic of conversation might look like trying to avoid the subject. So he said nothing.

Eventually when he’d finished – or at least eaten what he could manage – his curiosity got the better of him.

"Can I ask you some personal questions?"

"Of course. If they’re too personal I don’t need to answer them!"

"Dan," said Johnny, "sorry, Tanya. How long have you been … you know …?"

"Wearing skirts?" Dan replied.

"Yeah," Johnny nodded.

"I don’t know. Since I was about fourteen, I think."

"And how often do you do it?"

"It depends on opportunity. Living here with you I don’t get much time on my own. Maybe a couple of times a month," Dan said honestly.

"Have you ever been out dressed as a girl?"

"God, no. You’re the first person to meet Tanya."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"So nobody else knows. What about Kristin?" asked Johnny.

"I hope she has no inkling at all."

"Do you want to have the operation? Cut it off?"

"Oh no," said Dan horrified. "I don’t want to be a woman, just dress like one occasionally. I’m a normal red-blooded male; I’m not gay, I fancy girls but sometimes I like putting on make-up, a dress, nylons and high heels."

"So why do you do it?" Johnny’s curiosity was growing.

"I wish I could explain. Why did I first go into my mum’s bedroom and try on one of her skirts? It makes me feel good," Dan replied.

"Can’t you stick to Valium?" Johnny asked smiling. "Or vodka?"

"No it makes me feel really good; exhilarated, elated, euphoric. I’m floating on cloud nine. It’s better than any drug. And then there’s the excitement. The fear of being caught makes my heart pump faster and faster. The pleasure intensifies. I can’t describe it, Johnny. The only way to find out is to try it."

"Well perhaps not," said Johnny threatened.

"Coffee?" asked Dan searching for an opportunity to change the subject away from his peccadilloes. He stood up and walked over to the kettle.

"Yes, please," said Johnny. "So it turns you on?" he asked returning to the original topic of conversation.

Dan turned to Johnny as he filled up the kettle and gave a guilty nod.

"Sexually?"

Dan nodded guiltily again. He hadn’t expected such an inquisition. He didn’t need to say anything at all but Johnny was his friend. They’d known each other for years. There was a strong bond between them. He wanted and needed Johnny’s support.

"Do you fantasise about making love to a woman dressed as Tanya?" Johnny continued.

Dan nodded again.

"What about Tanya having sex with a guy?" Johnny inquired further.

"No way!" Dan replied. The kettle boiled. He stood up again to make the coffee. "Two sugars?" He knew it was two sugars. They’d lived in the same flat for two years.

Johnny ignored the question and continued his own questions. "You say Tanya’s never been out. Do you want to go out as Tanya?"

Dan nodded again. "In the right circumstances," he said enigmatically.

"Which are?"

It was obvious that this was a question that Dan had thought about a lot. "Well I’d need a chaperone; someone to look after me, buy me drinks and keep me away from leering males. I’d only go to somewhere which is TV friendly, perhaps a TV club where I’d blend in and it wouldn’t matter if I was read?"

"Red?" Johnny asked.

"Read. Recognised as a guy. If there were other cross-dressers there, I might pick up tips from them about clothes, make-up, movements, you know. You’re asking a lot of questions, Johnny. You seem uncomfortable. Are you uncomfortable with me in a skirt? Would you prefer it, if I changed back to Dan?"

"You can wear what you damn well like. I don’t mind what you wear. If you want to wear skirts all the time, go ahead. I won’t object. Go around the flat dressed as a St Trinian’s girl if you want," Johnny said.

Dan smiled. "How did you know I’ve got a St Trinian’s uniform?" he said.

"Have you?" Johnny asked not sure whether Dan was joking.

Dan blushed and nodded again.

"I went on the web today at work," said Johnny. "I found out a lot about cross-dressers. There are thousands of them on there."

"Yes. Tanya’s one of them," Dan said.

"Really? I must look for her. Well they all seem to like dressing in short skirts, school uniforms, cheerleader outfits and French maid’s uniforms." Dan was blushing more than ever. "You’ve gone beetroot red, Tanya," said Johnny. "Are you telling me that you have a school uniform, a cheerleader outfit and a French maid’s uniform?"

Dan nodded.

"Well next time the flat needs dusting will you dress as the maid?" Johnny joked.

"I’d love to," Dan replied seriously. "Would you like me to try it on now?"

"Well," said Johnny, "in for a penny, eh? I’ll tell you what. Don’t put on the maid’s costume, put your school uniform on, I’ll clear away and wash up. OK?"

"Sure."

The evening wasn’t going exactly to plan. Dan had revealed more of his inner self that he’d intended and now he was putting on a short pinafore dress over his blouse and school tie. He wore the same stockings as before and black platforms and had tied his hair in two bunches with pink ribbons.

Dan examined himself proudly in the mirror. Just to look at himself aroused him. He was grateful that his penis was constrained by the gaff so Johnny wouldn’t see the effect the school uniform had had on him.

He went back into the kitchen just as Johnny was drying up the last of the plates.

"You like?" said Dan, teasing, doing a quick pirouette to show off his new outfit.

Johnny whistled through his teeth. "Oh my God," he said, "you are so feminine, so realistic, it’s hard to believe you have a dick under there!"

"Well I have, buddy, I have."

"That’s what worries me."

"What do you mean?" asked Dan.

"Well you detected I was uncomfortable. You felt it was because I didn’t like you dressed as a girl. You’ve been very honest with me, so I’ll be honest with you. The reason why I’m uncomfortable is that you are so gorgeous. I fancy you. I fancy a bloke."

"And that makes you feel uncomfortable?"

"Yes."

"Well don’t worry," Dan said, "the feelings aren’t reciprocated. Remember I don’t fancy blokes and you’re going out with Sally. OK?"

"Sure, but you know you said you wanted to go out as Tanya? With a chaperone? Can I be the chaperone?"

Dan thought for a moment and said, "What are you doing Friday night?"

 

Friday night

"You’re not going out dressed like that," said Johnny.

Tanya felt hurt. He’d been planning Tanya’s first venture into the outside world for months, no years. He’d mulled over in his mind what clothes, what shoes, what wig, what make-up he’d wear. OK, he’d needed quite a few vodkas to give him the courage to do this but he’d planned it all, every detail.

"Why not?" Tanya asked Johnny innocently. He’d spent two hours making sure he looked good. He felt Johnny could at least pay him a compliment.

"Don’t you think that dress is too short?" Johnny asked by way of an explanation.

"Too short? Of course it’s too bloody short. You saw that TV programme, you’ve been on the Internet; trannies love short dresses." It was too short, much too short. It barely covered Tanya’s arse but he loved that dress. It was black with spaghetti shoulder straps. It fitted Tanya like a glove. OK his panties were nearly showing but he liked it.

"You’re practically asking to be raped."

"Johnny. I’m a bloke."

"You can still get raped."

Tanya realised that Johnny was right. The outfit was provocative; high-heeled ‘fuck-me’ shoes, black fishnet tights hugging his legs and the ridiculously short dress. Underneath he wore an extremely uncomfortable corset which gave him a lovely figure and a realistic cleavage. Three times Tanya had nearly changed his mind about what he was going to wear but with a little Dutch courage from a bottle of vodka and he’d stuck to his plans. ‘Why does Johnny have to be so negative?’ he wondered.

"Johnny. This is what I’m going to wear." Tanya put his foot down.

"OK," Johnny said as if it was none of his business. It wasn’t. He was just Tanya’s chaperone.

The two hours Tanya had used to get ready had been well spent. His make-up was just how he wanted it. He thought it was a good job. Yes he was probably wearing too much eye-liner but can’t a girl live a little?

Tanya studied himself in the long mirror. His mind was a mixture of appreciation and trepidation. He looked good but this was a step into the unknown. He looked at the delicate watch on his wrist. 8.50. He’d ordered the taxi for nine.

‘Oh my God,’ he thought. ‘Ten minutes. In ten minutes I’ll be going outside dressed only in a tiny dress. I’ll freeze. No that’s the least of my worries. A lot of worse things could happen than freezing.’ He took another slug of the vodka. ‘It’ll be all right. You’ve planned this for ages. What can go wrong? Johnny will look after you.’

Johnny looked as worried as Tanya. He was going out with a girl wearing a dress up to her armpits. Only the girl wasn’t a girl. And he would be going to some tranny club. He’d rather be dead than go there…

The doorbell rang. ‘Shit. That’s the taxi. No chickening out now, girl,’ Tanya thought to himself. He couldn’t give up now. But if anyone had offered him a way out, he would have accepted straight away.

He took another swig of vodka. Once more he noticed the lipstick stain on the glass. ‘Shit, shit, shit. I’ll need to redo my lipstick.’ He fished it out of his bag.

The doorbell rang again. "Come on. Do that in the taxi," said Johnny. "Now remember. Act normally," he instructed.

‘Oh yes. Act like a normal transvestite on her first night out. How can that be normal?’ Tanya thought. Johnny answered the door.

"Taxi, sir?"

"Yes, my … er … girlfriend is nearly ready. OK, … , darling?" he called ostentatiously to his friend.

"Yes," Tanya managed to mutter in his best feminine voice as he appeared in the hall. He taxi driver was studying his legs.

"Come on then," Johnny said.

The taxi driver turned and headed down the stairs. Johnny and Tanya followed him, Tanya at Johnny’s shoulder. Johnny held open the front door for his flatmate. "Ladies first." He emphasised the word ladies.

Tanya smiled at his attempt at a joke, realising Johnny was as nervous as he was. Tanya stepped out first into the open air. It was freezing. He felt an icy blast wrap around his legs. The fishnets were no protection and the wind seemed to blow right through to his panties. His whole body was cold. It might have been only ten paces to the taxi but it was ten paces too far.

Although Tanya was moving as quickly as he dared in his heels, Johnny raced ahead of him and opened the rear door of the cab. This was the first time Tanya had got into a car and he forgot all about how he should do it. He slipped one foot in and felt his dress rise up giving Johnny a full view of his undies. Too late, there was nothing he could do but climb in as quickly as possible and put it down to experience.

In the cab Tanya touched up his lipstick as best he could. All too soon they were in the city centre and pulling up outside the club. Johnny paid the cabbie, slipped out of the cab door and hurried round to the other side to open the door for Tanya. Tanya was more careful getting out than he was getting in but he still couldn’t prevent that dress riding up. He was beginning to regret wearing it.

He pulled down the hem of his dress and made for the front door of the club.

"Look confident," said Johnny. "Head up. Smile."

The couple walked past the bouncers, paid the entrance fee and slipped down the stairs into the basement. As they entered the club the noise and smoke hit them. It was dark except for a well-lit bar on the far side. Johnny and Tanya strolled over to the bar. On the right hand side was a dance floor where a few people were dancing. To the left were several tables where three groups seemed to be sitting, laughing, joking, drinking.

"A pint of lager and a large vodka and Red Bull, please," said Johnny to the barmaid. Tanya tried to work out whether the girl serving them in a short black dress was really a man. Johnny paid and suggested they sit on two stools at the bar. From here they would have a good view of what was happening.

Johnny balanced on one stool sipping his pint. Tanya found it difficult to perch on the stool without his dress riding up again. Eventually he adopted a position, half standing, half-leaning against the stool that he felt was decent.

The music was loud but not so loud as to blot out conversation. They looked around, drinking in the surroundings. The customers appeared mainly female at first sight but Tanya guessed that they were mostly girls like him. There were a few men and a few genetic girls in each group.

After ten minutes or so, two convincing trannies got up and went to the bar. Both were very attractive. One was black, wearing a silver shiny crop top with matching hot pants. She also wore silver platform boots and a platinum blonde short wig. She looked sensational with a slim dark body. Her friend was white, with shoulder length dark hair, wearing a black dress that nearly reached her ankles.

"Hi," the black girl said to Tanya. "I’m Alicia. This is Penny. Are you new here?"

Tanya nodded. "Yes," he said nervously. "I’m Tanya and this is Johnny. It’s our first time here"

Johnny and Penny nodded hellos. "There’s always a great atmosphere," said Alicia. "Say. Do you want to dance?"

This hadn’t quite been how Tanya had planned it but why not? Alicia was gorgeous. He accepted. Alicia led him to the dance floor followed by Penny and Johnny.

-

"Thank you for taking me, darling," said Tanya as she brazenly kissed Johnny on the cheek leaving a big red smudge. They were safely in the back of a taxi going home from their night out. "Did you enjoy it?"

"It was OK although as most of the blokes there were wearing dresses, I felt a little left out," said Johnny.

"Left out? I saw you dancing close to Penny. I wonder what Sally would say if she finds out her boyfriend was having a slow dance with a tranny."

"For fuck’s sake, don’t you dare tell her," said a frightened Johnny. "Anyway what would Kristin say if she knew you’d been snogging Alicia?"

"I thought we’d been discrete and you hadn’t seen us."

"I didn’t but Penny told me that Helen had spotted you outside the ladies," Johnny smiled.

Tanya smiled too thinking of the lovely Alicia. "Well she was so dazzling, I found her hard to resist."

"I know. I’m jealous of you. Did you get her phone number?"

Tanya smiled again. "Wouldn’t you like to know?"

"I loved what she was wearing."

"So did I," said Tanya, "I almost asked her if she’d lend it to me."

Johnny laughed.

"Would you like to go there again some time?" Tanya asked her friend.

"Maybe, but…"

"But what …"

"Well you girls looked like you were having so much fun and I felt a little left out. You know you said that I should try cross-dressing and I said no. Well if we went again, I’d like to … you know … go as a girl."

Tanya let out a shriek of pleasure and kissed Johnny again, this time on the lips. "That would be such fun," he said. "When can we practise? What about tomorrow?"

"Well, maybe if you can borrow that outfit of Alicia’s."

-

"You’ve shaved your body all over?" Tanya asked.

"Yes," said Johnny.

"And you’ve put on the bra and panties?"

"Yes."

"Come on out then and we’ll get you dressed."

"Have you got the outfit?" asked Johnny.

"Yes. Alicia brought it round an hour or so ago. I’ve got the silver crop top, hot pants, platform boots and platinum wig. You are going to look so gorgeous," Tanya replied.

"And are you wearing the maid’s uniform?"

"Of course, madam."

Johnny unlocked the bathroom door. Wearing a robe to cover the underwear he went into Tanya’s bedroom where he was waiting to get his friend dressed, looking flawless in the black uniform with the white trim, apron and cap.

"Wow," said Johnny, "you look great."

"And so will you in a few minutes, madam. Now what can I call you? I can’t call you Johnny."

"How about Emily?"

"OK, Em, that’s fine by me."

Tanya helped Emily pad out his bra with tissues. Then he put on nude tights followed by the hot pants and crop top which fitted perfectly. The boots weren’t such a good fit but they were OK. Then came the wig which transformed Johnny into Emily. The make-up, jewellery and perfume followed. Emily studied himself in the mirror unable to believe how sexy he looked.

Tanya smiled when he saw his new creation. "Emily, you know that you said you fancied me?"

"Yes."

"Do you still?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Because I fancy you." Their lips met in a passionate kiss. They felt each other’s bodies; Tanya feeling Emily’s bare midriff, Emily feeling up Tanya’s dress. "Won’t you come to bed with me?" Tanya asked. "You’re irresistible in that outfit. No way are you going to give it back to Alicia."

Emily smiled. "It would suit you too. Maybe tomorrow I can be the maid and you can wear it."

"Sure," said Tanya, "now let’s go to bed."

Emily smiled again. "Come on, then."

 

 

 

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© 2002 by Emily Ross. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.