The Scarlet Ribbon                           by: Janet Stickney                         JanetLynn17@Hotmail.com

 

I hated it. The constant drone of the nearby mill, the crime, drugs, and prostitution all wore on me like a millstone. I had graduated first in my class, but because so many kids dropped out, I wasn't sure that meant much. My Mother had taken off a few years back, and I never bothered to look for her. I had never known my father, probably a trick my Mother had turned. I had managed to get through school with the help of the woman that ran the boarding house I lived in. Mrs. Benson was a widow, a kindly woman that took me off the streets and encouraged me to finish school. In return for the room I stayed in, I helped her keep the house in repair and worked at a used clothing store about three blocks away. Now that I had graduated, I began to put in more hours at the store. Sorting through some new arrivals, I found a box that had Mrs. Benson's name on it! I took it home that night and gave it to her.

Her apartment always smelled like fresh cut roses even though I had never seen one. She smiled at me when she opened the door and let me in, wiping away the traces of flour on her hands. "Hello Michael. Come in." I held out the box, her name clearly etched on the top. "I found this today, and thought that you might want it." I saw her start to tremble, and helped her to a chair. "Have you looked inside Michael?" "No Ma'am." I sat as she opened the box. Her eyes started to water as she lifted out a scarlet ribbon. She held it out for me to see. Attached to each end was a small gold medal. "Do you know what this is Michael?" I shook my head no, so she told me. "It's given to girls who are named the Queen at the Sussex Cotillion every year. The winner and her Maid of Honor can, at any time in her life, submit a name to be a debutante. I was going to name my daughter Gloria, but she was shot and killed buying drugs. Now, I guess it's just a memory."

My name is Michael Grant, and as I lay on my thin mattress that night I wondered if I should tell Mrs. Benson about my secret. Ever since I had started working at the store, I had been buying clothes, hiding them, even though Mrs. Benson never went in my room. Because I was malnourished as a child, I had never been very big. Now full grown, I stood just 5' 6" tall and a staggering 125 pounds soaking wet. My dark wavy hair had grown long because I didn't have the money to get it cut, and now, well, I didn't want to cut it. I pondered the question as I lay in bed, falling asleep, dreaming of being Mrs. Benson's debutante. During the night I made a decision that would change my life, one way or another, and it took all of the courage I had to do it.

The next day I knocked on her door and asked her if I could confide in her, and when she said yes, I said that I would come back around 8 that night. My room was the only one besides hers that had a private bath, so I carefully prepared myself. I had what I thought was a wonderful outfit and I caressed it as I headed to the bath. When I returned to my only other room, I was hairless, my hair shiny from the water. I didn't have very much in the way of under garments, just a single bra and one slip. I put the bra on, stuffing the cups with my homemade breastforms. They were just old nylons filled with birdseed. The slip went over my head stopping just above my knees. I stood at my small mirror and in the dim light began my makeup. The foundation, then a dab of light green on my eyes. I had found an old rose blusher, which I used on my cheeks. I took the dress from the hanger and slipped it over my head and smoothed it out. It buttoned up the front, and with each button closing, I felt better and better. I sat on the bed and put my feet into a pair of black heels and stood up. At the mirror again I used a brush on my hair, clipping barrettes in my hair to keep it away from my face. I put the lipstick on carefully, trying to do the best I could, but in my heart I knew that I would never pass anything more than a cursory examination. The black dress was a shirtwaist style with white piping on the sleeves. The hem was just at my knees. My fake breasts pulled at the material in an unfamiliar strain, but I found that exciting. Promptly at 8, I opened the door to my room and drew up my courage before I walked down the stairs to see Mrs. Benson.

I stood in front of her door, wanting to tell, yet afraid of what she might say. I looked upon her like the Mother I never really had, and didn't want to hurt her; but over the last few years we had talked about many things, and she never once recoiled, so, slightly scared, I raised my hand and knocked on her door.

Mrs. Benson opened the door and saw me standing there dressed like a girl, which to her surprise didn't startle her. "Come in dear, sit down and I'll make us some tea." I sat on the chair, but my bottom occupied only the barest edge of it, like I was going to run away. She returned with a tray, sitting it between them. "This is what you wanted to tell me?" "Yes Ma'am. I don't know why, but I sometimes feel like I have to dress like this, and I thought that you might..." Tears started to cascade down my cheeks as I tried to find the words to tell her what I felt. "Your the Mother I always wanted, and I thought that I could be your. I wanted to.. I thought that you would understand." Mrs. Benson sat there, heard a cry for help, and love, all at the same time, and knew that this girl loved her too, and knew in her heart she would help if she could.

"Would you like me to help you be a better woman? Is that it?" I slowly nodded my head yes, and she smiled. "I want you to be happy Michael. If I can help, I will." I ran to her and hugged her close to my chest. With my head on her shoulder she told me that they would start the very next day. Back in my room later, I felt as if a heavy weight had been lifted from my chest. At 8 the next morning I heard a knocking on my door and opened it, seeing Mrs. Benson standing there with an armload of clothes. "These belonged to Gloria. Let's see what fits you." The very first thing she gave me was an unopened package of panties. I found these in her dresser, I hope they fit." I went in the bathroom and ripped the package open and pulled out a pair of white cotton panties. They fit perfect! I "tucked" myself and went back in the room. "Have you ever worn nylons Michael?" I shook my head no as she handed me a pair.

She coached me on how to put them on, the nylon against my smooth legs was a sensation I would never forget. It was electric. I immediately saw how they made my legs look better, and stood up. The bra I had worn the night before was a little big on me, but Gloria's fit just right. I put my fake breasts in the cups and we quickly decided that I had to release some of the birdseed. I poured it into the wastebasket. When I had re-tied the knot and put them into the cups, I saw right away how much better the bra fit. "Come in the bathroom Michael and I'll show you how to do makeup."

The foundation color I had was okay, so I dabbed it on, and under her instruction, smoothed it out evenly. Then she handed me a small box with powder in it. "Pat this on and in a minute or so we'll brush away the excess." I did as she told me, and after I brushed my face, I saw the nice, softly smooth skin of girls my age. The eye shadow and eyeliner were more difficult for me to master, but my desire gave me the skill I needed, and when I was finished, my eyes looked dramatically better than last night. I put the same slip that I had worn the night before on, and she handed me the same dress. This time she clipped some white earrings on my lobes and a white beaded necklace around my neck. Then she gave me a small gold watch, which I put on my left wrist. I slid my feet into the black heels and stood in front of the mirror.

"Let me do your hair Michael. Then you can look." I smiled at her as she took me by the hand and led the way to her apartment. She took me to the kitchen and had me sit down. My hair, still clean from the night before was unruly, so she wet it down and began to trim it lightly. Using rollers and a gel, she set my hair, then had me sit under her dryer, the plastic cap holding the heat in, drying my hair in just 30 minutes. Using a brush, she began to restyle my hair, and it fell just as she had anticipated, my natural waves, enhanced by the rollers made it easy for her. Using the scissors she again trimmed my hair so that my bangs didn't hide my face. When she was done she allowed me to look in the mirror. What I saw staring back at me was a pretty, 18 year old girl! There was no doubt in my mind now. I wanted to be a girl for as long as possible!

"Now that you're presentable, let's go downtown" she said as she handed me a lipstick. I started to say something, but she stopped him. "You asked me for help Michael, and I'm helping you. Now take your purse and let's go." I was more than a bit shaky as we stepped out of the safety of the house, but as we walked along towards the bus stop, I began to realize that nobody was looking at me as if I was a boy in a dress, and began to calm down. We got off in the middle of a large shopping district, Mrs. Benson leading the way. The first store we went into didn't even have a sign on the front door, but the owner greeted Mrs. Benson like an old friend. "Gretchen! How are you? Lord I haven't seen you in ages." "Carol, this is. Michelle. She lives with me now. We, she, needs some of your special attention." Carol looked at Michelle a bit closer and saw that it was a boy and smiled. "Right! Come with me dear, let's get you fixed up." "I'll be back in a few hours Michelle, just do as Carol says." I was left standing there with not the faintest clue as to what Carol was going to do, but because I trusted Mrs. Benson, I was ready for whatever was going to happen.

"You'll have to undress dear, down to your panties." I went in a small room and undressed as I was told. Then Carol began to transform me. It was tedious and a bit smelly, but in less than three hours a girl named Michelle stood in front of a mirror. I was looking at a perfect female form! All sign of my maleness was gone! I had perfect 36 B breasts on my chest. Carol had fashioned lifelike breastforms that glued to my chest, defying all detection. The panty was made to resemble the female, complete with a small triangle of hair. Inside of it, I had to insert myself into a condom like sheath so I could relieve myself, the special panty was made so that I would not have to take it off and still be able to find relief everywhere. "You'll need this glue honey. Make sure that at least once a week you take them off to let the skin breathe or you might get an infection, and flush the panty as well. Make sure you always keep them clean." I got dressed, noting that my panties now showed the cleft of my fake mound and smiled. The bra fit better as well, the new breasts swelling against the material rising to create a nice cleavage. I stepped out of the changing room right in front of Gretchen. "How is it Michelle? Do you like it?" "I love it Mom!"

It slipped out, and immediately Mrs. Benson liked it, but I covered her mouth in surprise. "It's okay Michelle. I kind of like it. I haven't had anybody call me Mom in a long time. Send me the bill Carol, and thanks." She led me out into the bright sunlight of the afternoon. "Hungry Michelle?" "I sure am!" "Let's find a diner and we can talk." Once they were seated in a booth, Gretchen came right to the point. "Now that we've met, I've been thinking that you should compete in the Sussex Cotillion Michelle. I have the ribbon, and you have the beauty, but not this year. Next year. You'll have an entire year to become Michelle, in mind and actions, and it'll be easier for you." I started to interrupt, but she stopped me. "I have a house on Long Island that I haven't seen in several years. I think that we should move there.. Michelle and I that is." I was stunned! I never knew much about Mrs. Benson, I always thought that she stayed in the city because she couldn't afford to live anywhere else! "I didn't know you had a house on Long Island!" "There's a lot you don't know about me Michelle. Let me tell you."

"My Grandfather was a successful lumber dealer. He built us a house on the island, right on the point. Father added to the business, and almost doubled the size of the crew. My husband worked for him, and when daddy died, Howard took over the company. He tried, he really did, but he lost it all. Everything except my trust funds and the house which was in my name. He took a job at the mill, worked there 36 years and keeled over with a heart attack. He had always asked me to take Gloria back to the island, but she didn't want to go, so I stayed in town. Now that you want to be a girl, and seem to have adopted me, now I can take my daughter back to the island." I didn't know any of this, but would be glad to leave the city. I took mom's hand, and holding it, told her "I'll be the best daughter I know how to be.. Mom." "You'll need some better clothes Michelle, especially underwear. Some new dresses and a suit I think. I won't have my daughter looking like she stepped out of an ad for a refugee center."

Trying on bras was a new experience for me, but I loved it! I found myself surrounded by satin and lace, all colors, and types. I bought three bras, a corset, a corsolet, some slips, a camisole, panties, pantyhose, three pairs of shoes, four skirts, four blouses, two suits, shorts, and several tops. Laden with packages, we took a cab home. I was tired, but smiling as I hung up all of my new clothes. That night, she told me that we would leave the next Wednesday for the new house. I had never, not once, been outside of the city proper, and looked forward to it. The two of us packed, boxed, and crated everything for the move, calling a mover to haul things out to the house. We went to the garage where mom kept her car, and she drove us out of the city. I had decided to wear shorts because of the work, and Mom did too. The air seemed clearer, the scent of the ocean on the wind and the smell of freshly cut grass reached us as we got closer to the house. Mom turned into the driveway and went up the long strip of pavement. The house sat well off the road, a red brick edifice covered in ivy, the white of the trim shining in the sunlight.

The old house smelled stale, and had a thin coat of dust everywhere. "Let's open some windows and air this place out Michelle." We uncovered the furniture, and then mom took me on a tour of the house. The living room was quite large with a massive fireplace on one end. There was a den, the furniture very old, the desk a roll top. The kitchen was big as well, but everything seemed to work. Up stairs there were five huge bedrooms, all with their own bath. "This was my room Michelle, maybe you would like to use it." I felt my eyes light up when I walked in. The view of the ocean was magnificent! The bed was an old four poster with a canopy. The dresser was empty, but in the closet there were several boxes. "Yes! I'd like that a lot!" "My room is down the hall. Let me show you." The master bedroom was at least twice as large as the one I would use. "We'll need some help to get this house cleaned up. You clean your room and I'll call for someone to help us." I walked into my new room with a bounce in my step.

It was like a dream. Never in my wildest imagination did I ever figure I would be in a house like this one. I looked in every nook and cranny before I stripped the bed. It took me all afternoon, but I managed to have everything but the carpets clean. I went to the linen closet looking for clean sheets, but there were none. Walking down the spiral staircase, I saw mom sitting by a window. "Something wrong?" "No dear. Just letting all of my memories come back." "Does the washer work? We have to wash the sheets and linens before we use them." "I don't know, let's find out." It worked, so I started the laundry, doing all of the linens I could find. Mom went out to the grocery and we ate soup and sandwiches that night for dinner. The next day, plumbers, the Phone Company, and a maid service showed up. With our help, the house cleaned from top to bottom and shined like new by that night. The floors glowed under the new polish, the aroma of polish and wax throughout the house. Once again we collapsed from the work. On Friday night, mom told me to get "spiffed up" "we're going out to a real nice place for dinner tonight."

In my room, I stripped off my clothes and once again looked at myself in the mirror. Even though I knew where they were, I had a hard time finding the seams on the special panties and breastforms. In the bath I started the tub filling. It was one of the old cast iron ones that would allow you to stretch out and relax. I poured in some bubblebath which I found (dated 1934), and luxuriated in the warm water. I shaved my arms and legs again, and under my arms. The last thing I did was to shave my light beard. I stepped out of the tub and grabbed a towel, and then, in my bedroom I decided to wear a pair of the satin panties, so I chose the white ones. They had lace around the legs with a small lace insert for a design. They hugged my now rounded bottom and made me feel sexy at the same time. I sat on the bed and pulled on a pair of pantyhose feeling that sexy sensation I liked so well. At my vanity I began my makeup with the new foundation we had bought, along with new eye shadow, eyeliner, and blusher. The creamy foundation went on easier as I smoothed it out, making my face one even color. The powder was the new translucent type, which I patted on, then waited for it to be absorbed by the foundation. I brushed away the excess and took the eyeshadow in my hand.

This time I used a light blue with a rose highlight. The deep black eyeliner went on easier, a swiftly drawn black line appeared on my upper lid, then I used a black pencil under my eyes, smudging it with my finger. Then I used a rose blusher on my cheeks. The dress I had selected was a royal blue sheath. It was sleeveless with a square cut neckline, the hem almost 2" above my knee. I took the corsolet and wrapped it around myself and began to fasten the hooks. It was tight, but I saw how much it reduced my waist, my new breasts swelling in the cups. When I was done I reached in and settled my breasts just so, making them swell a bit more. The dress slid over my head and I had to struggle a bit to get the zipper, but finally I had it closed. My hair wasn't very messy, so I used a brush to straighten out the few errant hairs and spritzed it with hairspray. My lipstick was a deep red, and from my jewelry box I took out gold earrings with a blue enamel insert and clipped them to my ears. The necklace, also gold, hung just above my breasts. A gold watch, and two small rings along with a gold bracelet and I stepped into her new black patent leather heels. In front of the mirror I saw a real lady. One last thing, I used some perfume I had found. I took my purse and went down the stairs.

Mom was waiting for me when I walked down the stairs. I took one look at her, and my mouth gaped open. She looked wonderful! Not at all like the dowdy old woman that I had been staying with. Her gray streaked hair was gone now, a lustrous brown instead. Her figure was nothing less than smashing. The dress she wore was all white with red accents. "Damn! You look great!" "So do you dear. You look even better than I did at you age." I was right about mom, at 56, she was not the dowdy old woman she seemed to be. She had money, a lot of it, and her figure which had been hiding under her loose fitting clothes, was very nice. Made up and well dressed, she was a woman any man would be proud to have on his arm. We drove to a small restaurant, which overlooked the ocean. Many heads turned and watched us as we were escorted to our table, which made me smile.

The waiter brought coffee, mom waiting until he left before she spoke. "Michelle, there are a few things we have to discuss. You and I can't maintain the house. It's simply too big; I am considering hiring a maid to help us, but that will mean that you will have to be very careful. You can never let her see you at any time, ever, not dressed as Michelle. Another thing is your lack of identification. We need to get you a new Social Security card for one, and since you have never driven a car, some lessons and a license. That brings up the question of your name. If you are going to be my daughter, then you should have to have my name. I called my attorney and he will be at the house with some papers for you to sign, which will legally change your name to Michelle Roberta Benson. Then you have to think about more permanent changes. Like your own breasts." I was more than willing to have my own breasts, change my name, and get a new identity, which mom saw as soon as I smiled at her. We had a quiet dinner, the band started promptly at 10. Mom was asked to dance, and she accepted his hand as he led her to the floor. I watched her as the smile on her face grew bigger.

A handsome young man asked me to dance, and for the first time in my life I was held in the arms of another man. His hand in the middle of my back, his warm breath on my neck, and his take control manner reassured me. I found it easy to follow him around the dance floor as we swayed to the music. Once we were back at the table, we had another coffee, and then left for home. Over breakfast the next morning we talked about the major changes taking place in my life. Mom had attended a local finishing school, but it was so long ago that she wasn't sure that it was still around. If it was, then, she said, I was going to go there. It would help me with poise, manners, and a host of other feminine traits she said I would have to learn.

I spent the day sorting things out and exploring the entire house. In the garage, I found a 1931 Phaeton! It looked brand new, except that the tires were flat and it had a coat of heavy dust on it. In an attic storeroom, I found trunks filled with clothes from days past, but in one trunk I found several very elegant dresses. After I had washed up, I went to my room and removed the breastforms and the panty. I felt naked somehow without them, but I acknowledged that it had to be done. In the bath, I carefully washed everything out and left them to dry. Feeling undressed, mom and I watched television that night. Monday morning I put everything back on and got dressed in a skirt and blouse. Wearing the minimum of makeup I could get away with, mom and I went to see if the school was still there. It was. Mrs. Walton was an older lady, but very proper and elegantly dressed. I was admitted as a student for the fall session. Then we met with the attorney who, after hearing my story, asked if mom had considered an adult adoption. "No, but Michelle and I will talk about it later." I signed the forms, and he left.

Over the next few weeks, we developed a routine, which included driving lessons for me. With my new name legal, I finally had my permit. By the time school started, I had a driving license. Helen, the maid we had hired, was about mom's age and the two of them got along very well, Helen took charge of the house. The only room she didn't clean was mine for obvious reasons. I drove myself to the school, dressed in a white pleated A-Line skirt with a red blouse. From the moment I stepped foot in the school, I worked harder than I had ever worked. I had classes I never knew existed, like comportment, poise, manners, hair care, makeup, dress, speech, and even classes in how to stand or sit. How to set a table, what was proper to wear, and when, what was unacceptable conduct for young ladies, and by the end of a single month I was tired, but mom said she could see that I was changing. I was becoming a lady.

Dr. Smith saw me twice a week for my injections of hormones, checking my weight, blood pressure and so on every time. By the time Christmas came I had abandoned the breastforms, being quite able to fill a bra myself. In every way I had changed, not just physically, but in my mind as well. With every gesture, and reaction, my poise, and speech, was more feminine than mom and I had ever imagined. I had spent hours looking at many of the old clothes I had found in the house, but when I began to examine the magnificent gowns in several of the trunks, I became very excited. I hung them up and checked every one for stains, tears, or anything else that would render them not wearable. Most were fine, a few had turned into rags over the years, but I had discovered that I had almost twenty dresses that were perfect except for a good cleaning. I selected the one I liked the best, and in my room, all alone, I put it on.

The dress would best be described as extremely feminine. It was basically white, an off the shoulder gown with satin between my waist and breasts, on the sleeves, and under skirt. The rest of the dress was trimmed in white lace, small pearls sewn into the fabric itself. It displayed my breasts almost to my nipples, flowing to the ground in a circle almost 6 feet across. I loved it and was twirling in front of the mirror when mom came into the room. "Oh my God!" I turned to see her turning almost ashen white and thought that she was going to faint. "Are you all right?" She had recovered, sitting on the bed looking at me. "I'm fine dear. I was startled when I saw the dress I guess." "Did I do something wrong? I'll take it off if you like." Mom stood and walked around me, her mouth in a tight line. "No. You look wonderful. It suits you." In my excitement, I showed mom all of the other dresses I had found. "I haven't tried them all on yet, but this one was so pretty, I couldn't resist it." The smile on my face made her smile.

"That dress is almost 70 years old Michelle. My Mother wore it when she competed in the Sussex Cotillion. I have a picture of her if you would like to see it." "Sure!" "You wait right here Michelle, don't change. I'll get the picture." It was a picture of a very pretty young girl that was obviously standing on the huge patio that faced the water. Her hair had been done up in a bun, her smile radiant even across the many years. "She was very pretty wasn't she?" I held the picture in my hand, an unseen force making me hold it tight. "I see that you were unable to fasten several of the buttons Michelle, let me see what else you found. There should be a corset in there somewhere." They looked through several boxes before we found it. She held it up so that I could see it. "That looks like something out of a torture chamber!" "It might be dear. Let's try it. The dress will fit so much better."

First she told me to wear a camisole. "It will help if the corset starts chaffing", then she wrapped it around me and began to fasten the heavy hooks. The laces, old as they were, still looked in good shape, and when mom began to tighten them, I huffed a few times as the laces got tighter, and my ribcage felt like it was being crushed. "Just a little more Michelle, Lift your arms and take a deep breath." With one last pull she managed to make the sides of the corset meet. I could still breathe, but my waist looked absolutely tiny, and I was unsure if I could bend over! "This is tight!" "I'm sure it is Michelle, but now the dress will fit much better. Let's try it." She was right. The dress looked wonderful on me, my tiny waist accented by the trim of the dress, my breasts lying in the cups of the bra, swelling against the new garment, almost overflowing the dress. "Want to try on some of the others while we're at it Michelle?" "Sure, why not."

We spent a pleasant afternoon trying on the dresses, mom taking pictures of me in every one. Several of them looked absolutely wonderful on me, so I set them aside for cleaning right away. That afternoon I also discovered the pain women have to undergo to achieve a perfect figure, and the complexity of some of the clothing. Besides the corset, I had to learn how to walk while wearing 7 or 8 petticoats, or a hoop skirt, and don't forget that every one of those dresses buttoned up the back, each with at least 30 buttons! That night we sat watching television, mom knitting, as she liked to do, when I saw a news flash come on. "Look!" It was an announcement that the Grand ballroom where the Cotillion was held was on fire! We watched the news as the announcer gave a description on the fire and how badly burned the building was. We could see the flames as they reached up and licked the sky, the glow of the fire burning away our hopes of my becoming a debutante.

The next day we went to the scene of the fire. The building was in ruins. All of the walls were down, only the faint aroma of burned wood hung in the air. "That looks like the end of our plan Michelle." She had really been looking forward to having a daughter in the pageant, and now. well, it didn't look like it was going to happen this year. "Let's go home mother. We can't do anything here." I drove us home, and on the way we heard on the radio that the ball was going to be held at the Palace. It was a huge hotel that catered to tourists, but for this event they postponed several events so the ball could be held there. "Looks like you were wrong! I'm going to be in the pageant I guess!"

As the time drew near, I began to wear the corset every day so I could get used to it, and after just a week I felt it was too loose! Mother and I went to the local lingerie store and I was fitted for another one, smaller, with a 21inch waist! I wore that one from that day on. On the morning of the ball, mom and I, along with Helen, went to the beauty salon to get the works, hair, nails, and a facial. I was in seventh heaven as they worked on me, every dream I ever had was coming true. When we left the salon we went straight home where I took a long hot bath, soaking in bubblebath that made my skin feel even smoother and softer. I checked every inch of my body for stray hairs, and shaved away any that I found. My facial hair was light, and when I shaved as close as possible I saw that I could almost go without makeup! mom came in and plucked my eyebrows into a thin, high, feminine arch. Then, I started dressing, a tedious process at best.

I decided to do my makeup first, starting with a foundation and powder, then eyeshadow in a soft green with gray and copper highlights. Eyeliner in sable black outlined my eyes, and mascara made my lashes longer and lusher. Wearing just the white satin panties, I slipped the corset around myself and fastened the seven hooks in the front. Pulling on the laces I compressed my waist and then tied the laces in a knot. I settled my breasts in the cups of the bra so that the nipples were just held in, then smiled at my reflection in the mirror, and went to the closet and pulled out the petticoats. They were stiff and when I stepped into them I saw just how wide the dress would be. Mom came in and helped me put the dress on, and fastened up all 30 buttons. She fussed a bit with the d'collet‚ of the dress, I wanted to show more cleavage while mother said no. We compromised, and I showed enough to interest, but not enough to create a show. I wore long sleeve white satin gloves that came to my upper arm, white satin shoes with pearls sewn on, a gift from Helen, and an old family ring on my right hand. Around my neck I wore a diamond choker that I had not seen before, with a matching bracelet. Mom used a lipstick pencil, then a brush to put my lipstick on, then I put on some perfume. My purse was a small white satin clutch bag with pearls on it.

Mom wore a ball gown in green, while Helen wore one in blue. We three ladies all looked beautiful! The limousine we had hired arrived and he quickly drove us to the Palace where we were all helped out of the car, and escorted into the ballroom. All of my training paid off, and I seemed to glide along as I walked to the table on the arm of a handsome young man. Mother was radiant as she followed along behind me, with Helen at her side. We had a nice dinner, then the girls were asked to begin. I was on the arm of the young man that walked me to our table, as we paraded around the perimeter of the ballroom to the sound of the waltz music. Next, each girl was asked to stand alone, slowly turn around, and curtsy as the judges made their decision. I never once felt nervous, even with every eye on me. I did not expect to become the Queen of the Ball like Mom; instead, I merely wanted to just be accepted as one of the girls. While the judges made the decisions, the orchestra played waltz music. The same young man asked me to join him on the dance floor, and he took my hand. He bowed and I curtsied, then he swept me into his arms and led me around the floor like a professional dancer. With no prompting from him, I seemed to know in advance his every move, so we became as one when we danced. Many of the couples moved aside to watch as Howard and I danced. When the music stopped we heard the applause from those that had been watching. I was blushing as he walked me back to my table.

The chairwoman of the event walked to the microphone, and reading from a paper, announced first the court, then the Queen of the ball. "Jennifer Balen, Mary Wakes, Heather Jones, Diane Thistle, and Michelle Benson. As each girl walked to the front of the room she announced their names and finally said that I was the Queen's Maid of Honor, to stand in for her in the event she could not go on. Veronica Ames was named the Queen of the ball. My escort, Howard Whittaker Bloch III was my partner in the victory dance. I had been named to the court, something I had never considered possible. It was an euphoric evening for me and I never wanted it to end, but it had to, and I went home with mother and Helen.

I slept late the next day, finally rising at around noon and quickly put on a skirt and blouse and went downstairs to the kitchen where the smell of coffee and toast filled the air. "You had a call this morning. I think it was that young man that escorted you last night." Helen handed me the number. "He asked if you would please call me back." I smiled to myself as I drank my coffee and ate a slice of toast. Mom joined us a little later, still radiant from the night before. "Did you get your ribbon Michelle?" "I sure did! It wasn't red like yours though. It was gold." "True, but now your daughter can be in the ball." I looked at mother with a start. "But I can't." "you can adopt. I did." Properly put in my place, I went to put some makeup on and brush out my hair before I returned a call. "Hello. Is Howard there please?" He came on the line and told me how much he enjoyed my company, and then asked me to join him at the country club that night for dinner. "I'd like that Howard. What time?" He told me what time, and as I hung up, I wanted to jump for joy! I told Helen and mom, then went to my room to pick out the perfect outfit. I selected a black chemise that hugged my figure and looked absolutely wonderful on me. Tasteful gold earrings and a gold watch were my only jewelry. My shoes were black patent leather like my handbag. I waited in the den for Howard to arrive while Helen and mother smiled at my nervousness.

As soon as I saw him, his face lit up, a smile creasing my own face. Mother and Helen were introduced, and he and I left for dinner. He was looking at me in profile when he stopped the car and looked at me. "You should have won last night Michelle. But Veronica's parents are big contributors to that event, so." "Its okay Howard. I was happy to just be named to the court." Then, he put his arm around me and kissed me. I was, by then, so feminine in my reactions that I let him kiss me again. "We should go eat Howard." For the rest of the evening he was a perfect gentleman; the only time he stepped away from that was when he dropped me at my front door. He swept me into his arms and kissed me, hard. I could feel his hand as it held me close, his warm breath on my neck, making me weak in the knees. At last, I went in the house.

Howard courted me for the next year before he asked me to marry him. During that year, under mom's watchful eye, I underwent the surgery to make me a true female, and on my wedding day I was able to please my husband in many ways, just like any other woman. Two years later, we adopted a little girl who became the apple of her father's eye and the joy in mom's life, something she thought she had lost so long ago. In time, our daughter competed in the same ball as her Great Grandmother, grandmother and mother, and for the fourth time in as many generations, she won a ribbon. A scarlet ribbon.

 

 

 

© 1999
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