T.J.'s Experiment in Pink

by Anne O'Nonymous

 

PART EIGHT

I was the first one up on Saturday, so after a quick wash, robe and slippers on, I tippietoed downstairs and made a breakfast consisting of eggs fried in a butter substitute, soy sausage, home fries, grapefruit juice, and English muffins. By the time I had coffee ready, mom and Sandra were seated at the table. Now, I'm not sure about you, but to sit at a table with good food, good company, and an interesting discussion -- that's heaven for me.

After my second cup of Orange Pekoe, mom announced, "Sandra and I will be shopping today. Shall I get you a few more things?"

I stopped and thought for a minute, then replied, "Could you get me a package or two of those days-of-the-week panties?"

"All one color or mixed?"

"Oh, mixed if you can get them."

"Okay, and how about a list of what we need in the food department."

"Sure," I replied. While mom and Sandra prepared to go food shopping, I hustled my bustle (that's only a figure of speech for now), and checked the 'fridge and shelves for items we needed. The Saturday shopping expedition was a house routine: they shopped, I did the laundry, mopped and cleaned the kitchen. With a list made, I sat down and waited.

Mom was the first to finish. She wore a white blouse, tan slacks and a pair of white, beaded moccasins. Sandra came down next, in a lemon-color blouse, blue slacks and docksiders. Both looked tastefully elegant! (Comment: Why is it that some women look feminine no matter what they wear?)

"List ready, Tea?"

"All ready. How about some ice cream – Rocky Road, maybe?"

"Seeing as how you were so good at work this week, all right."

The two ladies left to do their shopping, and I went up to get the rest of the laundry. A week's wash was soon in the basement awaiting the washer and dryer.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Have you ever walked into a house and instantly knew the feelings of the occupant?

Nancy knew, and Sandra, following close behind, heard the music – "Isle of the Dead" -- and knew. "TJ, where are you, sweetheart?" first from one, then the other. A frantic search started, neither woman wanting to see the possible consequences.

Upstairs, they found TJ curled up in a fetal position on his bed, the music blaring loud enough to be heard outside. Tears on his face had soaked the sheets on his bed. Upon seeing his mother, TJ managed a weak "mama, I'm s-o-o sorry."

"Tea, sweetheart, are you all right? I heard the music, and . . ." She left the rest unsaid; both knew the reason.

"Mama, why do people like to hurt each other?" he questioned with a tear-stained face.

"I don't know, sweetheart! Come on downstairs, I've got some ice cream," Nancy said, comforting her too sensitive son.

Downstairs, a table of groceries waited to be put away. Entering the kitchen, he offered, "Sandra, let me help you put those things away."

"Tea, you had me worried! You sit down, and I'll get this stuff away in no time – then we can have some Rocky Road, okay?"

"Okay, emm, how did you, ehh, know I wasn't, err, feeling good?"

"When you get depressed, you play 'Isle of the Dead' or Barber's 'Adagio.' It was almost loud enough to be heard outside!"

"That bad, huh."

"Yep! What happened?"

"I was on the net, and my curiosity took me where I shouldn't have been. What I saw was upsetting to me, sis."

"Oh my god! How bad?"

"It . . . it . . . I just don't know! It kind of makes me question what I am."

"Hey, ice cream ready?" came a voice from the doorway, trying to sound cheerful.

"I'm ready to scoop it out now!"

Sandra scooped out a large bowl of Rocky Road ice cream for each of the group. As Sandra and Nancy ate and conversed, TJ sat lost in thought.

Those sites were disturbing, especially what they did to men. Were they all man haters? If these women did what was on those sites, what would be their victim's future? Would they have any? And why did they force men into dresses?

Nancy noticed her son's silence. She knew he often got depressed over things he had no control over and hurt him deep inside. He took on the world's troubles as his own, and suffered.

"Hi everybody! Hey, ice cream – can I join the party or am I intruding?" The voice of Fran interrupted the quiet.

"Sure, Fran! Grab a spoon and bowl, and dig in," Nancy responded.

"Thanks. So what's new?"

"TJ went on the net, and got a fright," Sandra said.

"Aw, poor TJ – did them bad people scare my little snookums?"

Nancy gave Fran a hard look, and stated, "TJ went to a place where he found all was not peaches and cream in the world."

Fran screwed up her nose, lowered her head, then replied, sadly, "Damn, me and my damn mouth – I just can't keep it shut. I'm sorry."

"Hey, Fran," TJ said as he came around to comfort her, "It's all right." He pulled her up and gave her a kiss and a tight hug, as he rubbed her back gently. "You sit down and have some ice cream with us, please."

Fran smiled at TJ, then stated, "Damn kid, you ARE the greatest."

Soon the discussion started:

"Mom, there were some stories that had mothers doing things to their children . . ."

Nancy winced. She knew exactly what he was talking about. "Well, honey, there are women out there who do bad things to their kids! But, for the most part, those are just stories – stories written to excite certain people."

"Like a murder mystery, huh?"

"Right!"

"And sissy. Mom, am I a sissy?"

"Tea," Fran interrupted, "there are a lot of varieties of what are called 'Transgendered' people. You are a kind, gentle, loving person. You have a lot of feminine qualities, yet you are male in many ways, too."

Nancy entered with, "Men like to feel strong and protective of females. They think that being 'Macho' will attract the opposite sex. To some, 'macho' means 'real man,' and yet that is an outdated idea. If you are on level ground and you put someone else in a hole, you still aren't raising yourself up."

"So you need to give a name to someone else smaller and weaker than you, put them in a hole so to speak, and one way is to call them sissy, or pansy; anything to put down their manhood, make it 'questionable,' or make them less than you," Sandra added.

"Then, again, there are males who prefer being called a sissy," Nancy added, "because it emphasizes their feminine qualities and detracts from the 'macho.' They prefer the more lacier, frillier, feminine styles of clothes."

"What about these 'feminized men'? "

Fran started, "How do you feel about Sandra, Nancy and me, Tea?"

"Gee, I love all of you," Tea replied, blushing, "I think, if it was at all possible, I'd marry Nancy Mueller, Judy, and you, Fran."

"You see, Tea," Nancy answered, "You have honor and respect for females. There are many men who think of and treat females as second-class citizens, thus to be feminized means to be lessened in status. So, when a story about a chauvinistic jerk being dressed in pretty, frilly things is written, it's quite like catching a murderer and seeing him punished."

"Gee! When I wear a dress, I feel great. It's like I'm a different person. At the office, as Terri, I . . . I . . .well, I feel privileged to be among so many nice ladies."

"Maybe you should pay Ms. Mueller for the pleasure of working there!" Nancy said facetiously.

"Well, I wouldn't go THAT far! Still, I don't understand where I fit into this, emm, group or sphere or whatever."

"Okay, TJ. You are a normal, healthy young man . . ."

I had to interrupt mom. I knew what I was, and had to correct her. "Whoa! I am NOT normal or healthy. I am a pervert as I'm doing something against nature!"

"Again, you are a healthy young man. You are kind, compassionate, loving, gentle, and NOT a pervert. I will not allow you to think otherwise."

Sandra added, "Tea, in some cases, to improve a metal's qualities, you add certain chemicals – like adding carbon to iron, or cadmium to nickel. You are an amalgam of male and female! You express what is good in men, and add to that what is good in women. You are my brother, I love you very much, and don't you ever think there's anything wrong with you."

"But what about those people hurting others? Sadism, I think it's called."

"Well, it's like auto racing, skydiving or anything else dangerous. It gets the adrenaline and endorphins flowing -- a chemical rush. You got the same feeling when you protected that young girl by standing up to that bully. Remember how giddy you felt; why, you could hardly get the words out to tell me all about it."

"Y-e-a-h! God, I felt great."

Sandra added: "Remember that cat?"

Damn, why did she say that! He nodded his assent, and fought back the tears that came to his eyes as he recalled the incident.

Fran added, "Tea, love, think of it as this: each person is a human first, then a gender. Some do not want to be a gender, only a human – because being a gender means you mostly conform to stereotypes of that particular gender, and not to humanity as a whole. Others want to get a feeling that gave them pleasurable sensations no matter how strange it must seem to other, 'normal,' people. Some want to return to times when they were happier or felt safer."

"So they achieve those goals in stories, pictures, and acting out fantasies, is that it?" Tea said, a light going on, "And these clothes give me a good, pleasurable feeling – because when I wear them, I feel closer to Fran, you and Sandra."

"No matter what others say, Tea, you have a right to your happiness as long as no one else is hurt. If dressing in clothes of the opposite sex makes you feel good, then go for it," Nancy stated in no uncertain terms.

TJ nodded, comprehending what was said. A simple experiment brought out a lot of things he couldn't understand at first; but, slowly, pieces of the puzzle were coming together. He was like a match – used one way, a building could be destroyed, and in another, a warming fire to cook food.

Fran spoke up: "Remember that yin-yang symbol? Two parts to make a whole. Keep that in mind, honey, and you'll be all right!"

Insight comes
not from lightning flashes outside,
but those fireflies within.

Feeling much happier, I asked, "Hey, Fran, want to stay for dinner?"

"Whatcha havin', " she inquired.

"Since it's my turn to cook, a meatloaf with chopped onions and mushrooms, green beans, corn and apple pie, if there's any left, with coffee."

"You're welcome to stay, Fran," Nancy stated.

"Sounds good, and I'll help!"

"Love to have you," I replied, enthusiastically.

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

It was much later, while enjoying apple pie and coffee, when another discussion started.

Terri opened the can of worms: "I can now better understand those men on that show. I feel a part of me that I enjoy; but why don't more men accept this other side?"

Sandra had an unusual answer: "Weak versus strong. Hard versus soft. Giving versus receiving. Man – the chest-thumping superior: woman – his weaker, inferior counterpart. It may be that most men view this as a weakening of their masculinity. Geez, you would think they didn't have much to begin with."

"Testosterone poisoned personality!" added Fran, between forkfuls of pie. "They think that by putting on panties, all of a sudden they'll start growing breasts."

Nancy let out a loud laugh, then said, "I'd like to see some of them playing baseball or football with well-filled 52DD bras."

That thought left us all in stitches!

Fran stayed long enough to watch a movie on TV, after which she left. While mom watched a political discussion on abortion, Sandra helped me with the dishes. When they were finished, I was ready to hit the sack.

In bed that night, Sandra joined her loving sibling. A hug, and the two cuddled up together.

"You know, Sandy, I feel like a fool," I said.

"About what, Tea?"

"Today! Mom accepted me, and what I was. That should've been enough, but I had to question it, and upset mom."

"Okay, let's say you make a scientific breakthrough. You publish the results, then what happens?"

"Well, other labs would try to duplicate the results."

"So, wouldn't you say that they are suspicious of the published data?"

"I see, sort of an independent inquiry on my part, right."

"Right! You know, Tea, a lot of people would suspect us sleeping together like this."

Her statement puzzled me. I liked having her close, the aroma of her perfume, and the feel of her body next to mine. Then again, I liked being with all of her friends, too.

"Sandy, I love being with you! If they think something 'evil' is going on, it is their idea, not ours. I would like to think that we enjoy each other's company. You know, there's something I don't think I'll ever understand."

"What's that?"

"Why is it that people seem to enjoy telling others how to live? I mean its not suggestions, but 'you must do this' kind of thing."

"I don't have an answer for that, but as Tea or Terri, you are a good person, nice to be with, and I came in here of my own free will – so, to heck with them, right?"

"Right!"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

After a Sunday breakfast of pancakes, with honey-maple syrup, and sausages, the trio in slacks tackled various chores around the house. Nancy ironed; Sandra made beds and vacuumed upstairs, while I tackled the dishes and downstairs vacuuming. Trash was gathered and readied for pick-up. Bathroom and kitchen floors were mopped. Around eleven o'clock, the group broke for a midday repast.

Around noon, Nancy Mueller showed up, followed by Jean, Judy, Toni, Fran and another girl.

Mom greeted the girls then left to do some work on her, actually the family's, computer.

After I received the almost-obligatory hug and kiss from each girl, the new one was introduced by Judy: "Terri, I'd like you to meet a neighbor, Virginia Parkins. Gina, this is Terri Matthews." As we hugged, I felt an almost instant bonding.

Gina was about my age, as attractive as the rest with pixie-cut honey-blonde hair, blue eyes, and dimples. The trace of makeup was nicely applied.

Now that was another thing! I seemed to notice more about females: their makeup application, how nicely they were dressed and their coiffure. Now shouldn't that make a cross-dresser a better husband? After all he pays more attention to how well his wife is dressed, and how much time it took to look that good. His compliments would be more sincere.

Sandra brought in a tray of snacks, mostly potato chips and various nuts, and I followed with cartons of juices and glasses on a tray. After filling the glasses, I was ready to leave, but Fran pulled me down beside her on the couch.

Sandra tapped a glass, then announced, "Gina, you're new here, so I must ask that anything you hear here, whatever you see, you keep quiet about outside of this room. Anything we say or do here is a private matter. Do you agree?"

Gina smiled, replying, "Is this some secret organization?"

Fran laughed. "No! We just don't want some things blabbed all over school or anywhere else."

Gina nodded her agreement, saying, "I can keep a secret! If necessary, I'll swear on a bible."

"We'll trust you. Okay, first thing: I think we can agree that Terri is now a full member of this group – any dissent?"

There was silence.

Sandy continued, "Okay, Terri's in! Gina, we have a secret to share with you. Terri is my brother, TJ. All the girls here adore him."

"Wait a minute," Gina replied, "I was given to understand this was a female only group – no boys allowed."

"Terri is my sister, TJ is my brother. Whenever we meet, it will be Terri that attends."

Gina giggled, then laughed pleasantly. "I may be a naughty girl for asking this, but, can we have a little fun with him?"

Toni smiled at her memories, stating, "Yes, we can – Gina. One thing, though, he has to agree, AND it has to be fun for him, too!"

Gina's grin was something like the Cheshire cat. "I thoroughly agree with you."

Oh oh, what was going to happen now?

"Gina, tell us about yourself," Judy said.

After putting her glass down, she moistened her lips, stood up and began: "My father was in the military. About three years ago, he left on a secret mission. We weren't told a thing. My father was a good man, and he left us well off. Four months ago, his body was recovered. Mom was never told where or under what circumstances his remains were found, only that the insurance could now be paid out. Last month, mom moved here from a home we had for twelve years. I met Jean in the mall, and she told me about friends of hers, and here I am."

There was something in what she said that made me feel so sad. She seemed to have had a loving father, and to have him taken away like that! I felt moved to go, put my arms around her and comfort her.

I did just that and heard the crying. I held her tight, stroking her hair, letting the pain of loss finally be released. Tears are good for many things, emotional release being only one of them.

Sitting down on our couch, I held Gina on my lap with her head resting on my shoulder. Occasionally I blotted her eyes with tissues, listening as the rest talked about other items. Holding a glass of orange juice, I let Gina sip at intervals and held potato chips for her to nibble on. There was this strange internal feeling of serenity – this was the real me, not what the pants and shirt said I was.

The soft, rhythmic breathing took me by surprise -- Gina was sound asleep. Sandra got a covering and put it over her as she lay on my lap.

"Do I bore girls that much?" I said, quietly.

Jean answered, "No, Terri. Gina has had problems sleeping ever since her move here. She must feel really comfortable with you."

There I sat, a pretty girl in my lap, sound asleep – curiously enough, holding her so closely, I felt more like a mother with her daughter.

Around two thirty in the afternoon, my little girl woke up -- her stretching arm almost caught my chin in the process. A dumbfounded look on her face told me she was completely unaware she had fallen asleep, on a stranger's lap.

"You missed all the excitement! A man broke in and made mad, passionate love to me," I said, rolling my eyes for effect.

Gina's opened her beautiful blue eyes as wide as humanly possible. Her mouth formed the classic "O," then seeing the smiles on the other faces, smiled and said, "Oh you!"

"Have a nice nap, Gina?" my sister inquired, "TJ does have that affect on girls."

Gina reached up, pulled Terri close and placed a big kiss on her cheek, then stated, "Thanks for being here."

Well, I blushed as pink as my panties.

 

To be continued –

Annie O

(Anticipating a question about the first person and second person change, it was deliberate on my part.)

 

 

 

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© 2003 by Ann O'Nonymous. 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.