Crystal's StorySite


My First Girl's Swimsuit

(an almost true story)

by Caprice Bellefleur


Someone recently asked me if I had ever worn a girl's swimsuit. I have. In fact, it was my very first public crossdressing experience (not counting wearing my sister's tights in my fifth grade school play).

At a high school dance we did a skit of the "Miss Junior Class Beauty Pageant," with all the contestants being played by boys--wearing girls' swimsuits. A girl in my homeroom on the skit committee asked me to be in it. I said no at first--I was very shy, and the thought of being up on a stage in front of hundreds of my classmates, even dressed as a boy, scared me to death. But as I thought about it that night my desire to crossdress was even stronger--it overcame my fears.

So the next day I told her I'd changed my mind, and she gave me a song to learn--a somewhat altered version of "I Enjoy Being A Girl." She told me I wouldn't have to sing it alone (thank goodness)--our "talent" competition was to be done in trios. She also told me not to tell anyone in school what the skit was about--the committee wanted this to be a complete surprise.

A few days later a rehearsal/costume fitting was held--at the home of one of the most popular girls in the class--someone I was too shy to even say hello to. Most of the 12 boys, and the 6 or 7 girls of the skit committee, some of them couples, were also very popular. I was amazed to be included. There were also a couple of parents there, besides the ones whose home we were in.

The costume fitting came first. The girls had collected every girl's and woman's swimsuit they could find--they had to fit a rather wide range of sizes. I realized the cast had been chosen quite deliberately to be as wide a size range as possible. I was there because they needed a couple of fatter boys to add to the popular ones. (I never thought this was done out of any meanness--they just wanted a variety of body types.)

I was the second shortest, 5-2 if that, and somewhat chubby. The smallest was the school's varsity wrestler in the 95 lb division. There were a couple of 200+ pound football players, and the 6-4 center from the basketball team.

Somehow they found swimsuits for all of us. I got a green one-piece, little flowers embroidered on the bodice, with an underwire bra built in. We went into a couple of bedrooms to change. I have no idea how I managed not to get a hard-on. Maybe it was because I was with a bunch of other boys doing the same thing.

We trooped out, back to the living room. The girls giggled and applauded. Then we saw that the boys from the other bedroom had breasts! But one of the parents said that the school would not allow this, to a chorus of boos. The boys reluctantly removed their rolled-up socks from their suits.

One boy had broken a shoulder strap, and another's suit was uncomfortably tight, so they were given replacements, which they hurried off to put on. Eventually we were all set.

Next, the girls proceeded to put lipstick on us--the brightest shade of red they could find. The girl who did me I was a cutie I had known (and longed for) since seventh grade. And here she was, her hand holding my chin, putting lipstick on me. I was in heaven.

One of the girls suggested that we all borrow high heels from our mothers or someone, but the 6-4 boy said, "I wear size 14s--where am I going to find high heels that will fit me?" The idea was dropped. (drat)

The script was explained to us. None of the boys had any lines other than the songs. The emcee would be played by one of the girls, wearing a man's suit. We formed our trios, and each group ran through its song. We were given all the details of where to be when, the night of the dance. And that was it. Time to go back to boy clothes.

We headed back towards the bedrooms--but not before one of the boys grabbed his girlfriend and planted a huge kiss on her cheek--leaving a very large lip print. Everyone roared with laughter, and the girl turned redder than the lipstick. She grabbed a tissue, then ran off to the bathroom. "Now you know what it's like when you do that to me," he called after her.

Another of the boys made a move toward his girlfriend, but one of the parents stopped him, saying that was enough of that. So we all turned and went to change.

I took off the suit and put on my clothes. By then all the other boys in the room had cleaned off their lipstick, using tissues and a jar of some cream that we had been given. But I was determined to keep mine on as long as possible. "Hey Bill," one of them said, "don't forget to take off your lipstick." Everyone laughed.

"I won't," I replied, and continued tying my shoes.

"I think Bill LIKES wearing lipstick," teased another--though I don't think he really knew how right he was.

I got some tissue and the cream, and cleaned my lips. "Is this better, Mr. Lipstick Inspector?" teasing him back. (I don't know how I got the nerve to say that, shy little me, but somehow I could. Maybe it was the fact that we all had just been boys in lipstick, and girls' swimsuits to boot.)

Then, as unobtrusively as possible, I slipped the red-stained tissue into my pocket.

We grabbed our swimsuits and returned to the living room. One of the girls whispered something to her boyfriend, and walked away. He then announced that we had to wear jockstraps under our swimsuits during the performance. I looked at the girl--she was really blushing.

Saturday was the dance, and at the appointed time the boys slipped out to the locker room to change into our costumes. When we finished we all started back. It was really weird walking down the empty school halls, in girls' swimsuits (any swimsuits actually)--to the sounds of our bare feet on the hard floors.

We got to the back stage area, where the girls were ready with the lipstick. This time a different girl applied mine. I didn't know her that much--she had just recently transfered to our school. She was very short, looking me directly in the eye even though she was wearing heels. I was the last one she had to do, and when she finished her hand lingered on my chin a second or two longer than necessary, turning my head slightly. She smiled and whispered to me, "You know, you're really the cutest one."

Fortunately, my jockstap did its thing.

(Unfortunately, I found out later she had a boyfriend back at her old school.)

Sashes bearing our titles were pinned to our suits. I was Miss Petunia--everyone was a flower. We were arranged across the stage, behind the closed curtain. I noticed that a couple of the boys had on eye-shadow--added by their girlfriends in the hubbub I'm sure. And one boy had breasts! He had managed to sneak a couple baseballs in somehow.

We heard them announcing the skit would be starting, and after a couple of moments one of the girls announced, "Ladies and gentlemen, may we present the Miss Junior Class Beauty Pageant!" and the curtain was thrown open.

It was pandemonium. Everyone was roaring. The laughter didn't begin to die down for ages. And we're up there, trying not to laugh ourselves, striking beauty pageant poses as best we could.

The girl playing the emcee did get things quieted down, and she announced that the first event would be the swimsuit competition. One by one each us was introduced, and we would then walk out on a runway they had put together out into the middle of the audience.

Eventally they got to me, and I was introduced as "Miss Petunia, a bashful blushing flower, who was almost too shy to enter the Miss Junior Class Pageant" etc. etc. or something like that. I walked out onto the runway, my eyes firmly planted on the floor in front of me, trying to act as bashful as I could. Of course, it really wasn't much of an act. I think I would have died had I made eye contact with anyone.

I got about two-thirds of the way down the runway, then I scampered back and hid behind one of the football players. Lots of laughs from the audience.

After we all were introduced (the boy with the breasts got the most applause, of course), the emcee announced that the final event would be the talent competition. We formed our trios, and went in turns to a microphone to sing our songs. We hammed it up as much as we could--not that a parody of "I Enjoy Being a Girl" sung by boys needed much.

Then the emcee was handed a set of envelopes from off-stage, and she proceeded to announce who won. There were one or two runners-up, and then the winner was announced. It was all scripted--we knew who was going to win. The emcee crowned him with a cardboard tiara, and he took his victory walk down the runway and back. We were then supposed to crowd around him to congratulate him, and the curtain would close.

But some of the boys had a different idea.

The winner was one of the two or three boys wearing two-piece suits--and his had a strapless top, with elastic bands at the edges to hold it up--a tube top, basically, only loose where a woman's breasts would be (actually it was a show costume, not even a real swimsuit. There was even a matching parasol.).

So when we crowded around the winner, a couple boys pulled down the top piece of his swimsuit. The elastic was stretchy enough that they easily got it past the hips. Then we cleared out so the audience could see.

I don't know if he was in on it or not. He sure acted surprised. The audience roared, and they hurridly closed the curtain.

I don't remember much after that. We must have returned to the locker room to change back to our boy clothes, and then returned our swimsuits somehow. I do remember getting back to the dance eventually. Everyone was congratulating us, at least for having the guts to do it, if not for our actual performances. And for an hour or so, I got to be one of the popular kids.

Was I suddenly part of the in-crowd? No. But I do kind of think it was a turning point in my life. I was respected for something I had done, by people who didn't even know me. I was still shy, but now sometimes people actually wanted to talk to me--they started the conversations. I managed to find a group of friends my senior year, not the real popular kids, but some nice ones.

All because of a green, girl's swimsuit.




2002 by Caprice Bellefleur. 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.