Wonderland Fantasy

by Anne O’Nonymous

 

Part 1

This all started when I had just finished school, with no prospects of going any further with my education, and was living with my eighteen-month-older sister. I didn’t have any work prospects, as jobs were hard to come by in the area where we resided. See, it’s a medium-sized town servicing, mainly, farmers and workers at three factories. Usually, I had a summer job at one of the local factories, but this year no one was hiring.

To tell the truth, I was living off my sister and I hated it! Well, at least I could do the housework, shopping and cooking for her as compensation. I love my sister very much – if it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t have made it this far in school. She encouraged me to get good grades, keep out of trouble and stay away from bad influences.

Yeah, right! As if a very shy, bookish, five foot three inch me had any way of getting into trouble. But, this has almost nothing to do with my story. Here’s how it goes.

It was a Friday and I had a nice dinner ready when Jan, my sister, came home. Usually, during dinner, she would tell me every little detail of her day at Chantel Frocks, but this day she was strangely reticent. She seemed to be deep in thought, mumbling responses to my questions about her day.

"So, how did the ducks do in the office typing pool," I inquired.

"Oh, all right, I suppose," Jan replied, sipping on her after dinner coffee.

"That’s enough! Sis, what’s on your mind? I haven’t had a decent word out of you since you got home! Something’s not right. Would you care to fill me in?"

"Oh, it’s nothing, really."

"Sis, don’t do this to me. Don’t shut me out! Something is definitely on your mind, and I want to know. Please, maybe I can help."

"Okay, Dave, I’m stuck! About two months ago, the company acquired another smaller one. They make a specialty line: prom gowns, tailored suits for the first interview, cotillion and bridal gowns for the younger brides. To make a girl feel really feminine, they also have the softest, laciest underwear available. The idea was to open stores in malls near girls’ schools and high schools with predominant female populations. We already secured permission to use ‘Wonderland,’ so we could use an ‘Alice’ theme." Jan halted a minute to compose herself.

"Okay, sounds good. Go on."

"Alice would be used at store grand openings, in TV and in-store ads, and a catalog as a model. Here’s the way the sales would go – if we don’t have it in stock in the store, the customer goes through a catalog and orders it. Alice would model every item in the catalog, from shoes to bridal veil. At a modest charge, we would alter any item to the sizes given by the purchaser, and ship free. Our stress would be on customer service."

I could see where Alice would be central to any marketing strategy. "So, why not the Mad Hatter, the Red Queen, one of those Tweedle guys, or some other creature? Why Alice?"

"Alice is a girl, you ninny. Alice, as I saw her, is a sweet, pretty, feminine girl. That’s what she stands for. Wonderland is to be a place of old-fashioned femininity, where a girl can see lacy petticoats, camisoles, pettipants and other soft things. Not some denim, leather or some similar clothing. The whole idea is to bring back softness."

"And your problem is?"

"I don’t have an Alice! I was delegated to find the role model. She was not to be a professional model, as if you could find one out here. I had a girl in mind, Laura Kingston. I called her – ‘Hi Laura. It’s me, Jan Parker. I got a job that you might like.’ I go out to see her, on company time, and she is huge. She’s pregnant with her third child. Can you believe it? Now, I’m stuck."

"Gee, that’s too bad!"

"Yeah, I was thinking I might get a promotion, now I wonder how much job security I have. Oh God, suppose they let me go because I failed at this."

I could see dampness around her eyes. My sister has such beautiful blue eyes, and I hated to see them red with tears. I was always a sucker that way. "Gee, sis, I’d like to help, but as you can see, I’m a boy."

"Yeah, thanks anyway. I really could use an idea."

"How about one of your girlfriends? They might be able to assist you."

"Asked. All working at good jobs, ones they like. Well, I still have until tomorrow afternoon’s meeting to pass on the bad news."

Now, don’t get me wrong! I really would do anything for her, but sometimes there is a limit. I wouldn’t even think of being Alice. Uggh, the thought of girl’s things sent shivers through me.

"Davey, if I lose my job, we could lose the house. There are still several payments due on that second mortgage. I’m stuck – and I just can’t think of a way out."

Big guns out now! She was right; we might be evicted. Well, she hasn’t asked – yet. I looked at her, and she looked at me. I could see the wheels turning and her sizing me up. I was the right size, fairly thin, with light brown hair. Phew, Alice has real blonde hair.

"Ehhhh. How was dinner? I thought the chicken came out nice and tender."

"Don’t change the subject, please. I’m desperate."

"NO, sis. I know I’m not the most manly of subjects, but please don’t make me any less than what I am now."

"Look, sweetie, have I ever treated you as being less. Have any of my friends? You were, are and will be the best friend I have. I will not ask; you’ll have to offer yourself to me."

Needless to say, I caved in! To help her out, I would go to the ends of the earth, walk on fire, but now I would have to go farther than many a man would, even for his wife.

"Jan, if you really want, I will be your Alice – until you can find a replacement." There, I said it! Funny, but I feel really good about this, though I can’t let Jan know. She would ride me to death – "You prefer the pink or the baby blue panties!"

"OH, that’s wonderful! You are absolutely the greatest. I’ve to call the girls for tomorrow."

I braced myself for the dozens of kisses she rained down on me. What have I done! Was my manhood gone? Why didn’t I stand up for myself? Simple -- she asked. And what’s this about the girls?

"Jan, what girls?"

"Why, silly, to help get you ready for your big day. I’ve a meeting with most of the company officials tomorrow to announce the introduction of ‘Wonderland,’ and show off Alice – the spokeswoman (spokesperson?). Wait till you see who’s going to be there!"

As I washed the dishes I could hear Jan on the phone talking, giving orders, answering questions and so on. She was happy now, and I was beginning to feel real good about what I was doing for her. "What the hell, if she’s happy, then I’ll do whatever she requests!" I thought.

"Everything’s all set," Jan cried out happily as she returned to the kitchen, "I’ve got help for tomorrow to turn you from Dave to Alice. It’ll be great, you’ll see!"

Oh, what have I got myself into. Was my life as Dave over, or was this a start to something better? Tune in next week for "Dave’s Other Life."

The rest of the night I avoided thinking about tomorrow. I had been taught that girls’ things were private, and to keep away from them. I never had the slightest interest in what girls wore, so now I was in for an education.

"Dave, the group will be here around nine thirty in the morning, so we have to get up a little earlier than usual."

Needless to say, I didn’t sleep too well that night. Nightmares of dates with high school jerks and a few geeks filled the dreamscape. I’m not that way! What’s going to happen to me? Will I find myself looking more at boys than girls? Will I be forced into accepting "girlhood" and the attendant boy-girl relationship? Just where is this all going to end?

The morning dawned too early for me – I awoke in a cold sweat! I definitely did not want to do this. I wanted out, but I promised, and, reluctantly, I went into the bathroom to prepare myself for the day.

"C’mon, Dave, breakfast is ready. Pancakes and sausages with blueberry and maple syrup, OJ, and coffee."

Gee, the condemned man at least had a hearty meal!

At the table, Jan was enthusiastic about how cute he was going to be. "We have a pretty sky blue dress with a white pinafore – that’s something like an apron, pantalets, knee-high white stockings, and black Mary Janes. Ohh, you will be soooo adorable."

"Sis, I don’t want to be adorable! Boys aren’t adorable – they’re rugged, studly, hulky or hunky, but definitely not adorable. I’m . . . I’m having, well, in rethinking about it, I don’t know if I can do this."

"So, you’re saying you’re chickening out, is that it? Dave, I could say, ‘After all I done for you, you do this to me’ or ‘I’m holding you to your agreement,’ but I won’t. If you can’t do this for me, okay."

Great! Now I did it! I waited for the waterworks to start, but they didn’t. She turned, looked at me with a wan smile, and remarked, "I’ll inform the girls and my bosses while you’re doing the dishes," as she started towards the telephone,

Okay, think fast and get yourself a reprieve. "No, sis, that’s not what I meant. I’m referring to the fact that if I play the role of ‘Alice,’ I’m fooling a lot of people. I don’t know if I can be that good enough! They’ll see through me in seconds!"

"That’s just it! It’s a marketing gimmick. Imagine a boy modeling girl’s wear, and being seen in dozens of stores, ads and television commercials. It’s only been done a few times locally, and you’ll be seen nationally."

Still, I was afraid, not for myself but for Jan. Suppose they don’t buy the idea, and she doesn’t have a backup plan. Really, the only way to test the water is to stick your foot in.

Well, I stopped her in time, said "I’ll do this for you," made her happy again, and wondered what fate had in store for me.

"Oh, God, you are so wonderful! I promise I’ll make this up to you, somehow," Jan said, "Would you please do the dishes, while I get a bath ready for you?"

As I washed and dried the breakfast dishes and put them away, I could hear Jan moving around upstairs. I idly wondered exactly what a young girl in that era would be wearing. The sudden ringing of the front doorbell jolted me back to today.

"I’ll get it," Jan cried out as she came down the stairs.

Curious, I wandered into the living room. There I saw four women, all fairly attractive and each attired in a woman’s business suit. On the floor were four shopping bags. I watched as my sister grouped the ladies and introduced them.

"Dave, I’d like you to meet my coworkers who will be working on you: first, Amy Chou; next, Paula Kent; next, Tina; finally, Joanne McGuire. Tina’s last name is spelled C-z-y-c-h-o-w-c-z-y-s-k-i, so everybody calls her Tina. Ladies, I’d like you all to meet Dave, our new ‘Alice.’ "

"Hi," I managed to stammer back. Maybe this won’t be too bad. Come on, Dave, let’s be positive – a situation is only bad if you allow it to be.

"Okay, Dave," Jan began, "First, I have a bubble bath waiting for you upstairs. Wash your hair with the shampoo and conditioner, and leave it slightly damp. Make sure to get rid of that ugly hair . . ."

"Sis, I don’t have hair on my body, legs or arms," I quickly stated. While others had hairy arms and chests, this was another trait that kept me from the male fraternity.

"The hair under your arms and that patch around your, emm, genital area. After your bath, pat, don’t rub, yourself dry," she continued, "and use my body lotion that’s on the sink. Use my Lilac Bath Powder and powder yourself dry, put on the things hanging on back of the bathroom door, then come to my room. Amy, can you set up down here, in the kitchen?"

"Sure, no problem. I’ll have everything ready."

"Good. Joanne, could you help Amy?"

"Okay. I can do the nails while Amy colors the hair, oops, sorry."

"It’s okay, he’s bound to find out, sooner or later. Paula, can you have everything ready upstairs?"

"I’ll do it now," said Paula as she scurried up the stairs.

Jan seemed to be acting like a drill sergeant. This should be given some kind of name, like Operation Alice or Dave To Alice or Operation Petticoat. Wasn’t that a movie of some kind?

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

Well, I managed to get through the bath, found I liked the bubbles. It was a very different experience. Did the shaving, patting dry (why do girls pat dry, boys rub – must be something in the genes), and used the Lilac powder. I smell like a flower show now and I rather like it. Hair is damp, prepared for whatever Ms Amy has in store.

Putting on boy underwear is easy – the hole is in the front. I tried holding the pale blue cancan panties several ways. Aha, the label doesn’t go between the legs, so it must go on one side or the other. Well, the leg openings feel right. The sensation of putting on this soft, forbidden item of clothing is giving me a hardness in a certain area. Now, the matching training bra (What does it train? The girl, the breasts, or both!) goes on. Whoops, inside out. The padded bra gives me a pair of bumps on my chest, ones that would grow in time on a real girl. Followed by the shower sandals, and a somewhat short robe.

"C’mon, Dave! We don’t have all day!" Jan exclaimed, "You can admire yourself later."

With trepidation in my heart, I slowly opened the door and called to Jan, "I’m coming." I walked the short distance to Jan’s room and entered. On the bed was outfit I would be dressed in later.

"Dave, come sit by me," Jan said, from her position seated on the bed, "I want to say something."

I went and sat by her, and she wrapped an arm around me and stated emphatically, "You are really the greatest to do this for me, but I must ask: Is this all okay with you? Once we start, there’s no turning back."

I thought about this for a few seconds. My sister practically raised me, helped me with schoolwork, and did everything any mother would do. As I said, I love and trust my sister more than life itself, and now it was time to prove that love and trust.

"Sis, whatever you want to do is good enough for me!" With that simple statement I resigned myself to whatever the Fates had in store for me, be it good or bad.

"Great," Jan practically shouted, "now let’s get down to Ms Chou’s salon and make you into Alice!"

Jan flew down; I walked! In the kitchen were gathered the conspirators. Amy was near the sink, working on some chemical mixture. Joanne had a bottle of polish in her hand, some implements and emery boards on the table. Near the sink was a chair, back towards the sink, with three books on the seat.

"Sit here," Amy said, motioning to the chair. "I’m fully licensed to do all this, in case you’re worried."

I sat on the books, which raised me up enough for the work at hand. It was then I realized that I was in girl’s underwear before five women, having left the almost-covering robe up in Jan’s room. Yikes!!

Amy draped me in a transparent cape, tying the ribbons in front in big bows. "Now this won’t hurt a bit," she said, in an effort to calm my nerves. I tried to be calm, but sitting there in underwear – is she kidding?

Won’t hurt a bit indeed! What about my pride as a male, my dignity – won’t that be injured? At least leave me something to hang onto. Or, maybe this pride and dignity is all false – a crutch; a big front put up to keep from feeling scared in this big world. Maybe we put up a front, and forget our inner strength. The strangest thought occurred: maybe this experience will strip away all the false, pretentious male trappings. It could be that, deep down, something good can come of this.

Tina came over and helped Amy tilt the chair back towards the sink, and Joanne slipped off the sandals, preparatory to painting my nails with a coral-blush polish. With my hair pulled back, flowing down into the sink, Amy started the process to color my hair an "Alice" blonde, asking, "So how did you do in school this year?"

We kept up a fairly good conversation as the team worked. Suddenly, it occurred to me that one wasn’t doing anything but watching.

"Exactly what is Tina’s role is all this," I asked Jan.

"Oh, Tina is the security," was her matter-of-fact answer. "She’s quite good in Kung Fu and has a black belt in Karate."

I managed to gasp out an "Oh!"

I could see a portable hair dryer, one of those dome-shaped things, sitting on the kitchen table ready for use. A second hand-held dryer stood by. Joanne was going to use that one to dry my nails. There was a distinct pulling on my hair as it was wrapped in curlers of different sizes. After a few minutes of tugging to get them tightly wrapped, a net was placed over the head and the chair was placed upright, so I could proceed to the next phase of the operation.

Sitting down in the second chair, the hood of the dryer was lowered, and I could feel the fan blowing the warm air. Joanne moved a chair closer, so she could finish with a manicure. (If a woman gets one, shouldn’t it be a womanicure?) She explained what she was doing as she went along, saying, "you’ll be doing this yourself in the future."

I watched closely as she painted, buffed, and polished the pinkish-colored nails, putting on a total of three coats plus a clear sealing coat, and, as we conversed, I got the distinct feeling that these girls were really enjoying what they were doing to (for?) me!

"Joanne, tell me truthfully, you are enjoying this, aren’t you?"

Joanne looked at me, smiled (What a beautiful smile!), replied, "When you are helping out a friend, wouldn’t you enjoy it?"

All right, what would you say?

A timer dinged, the dryer shut off, and Amy came over and lifted the hood. Joanne finished her work in the nail section, so it was Amy’s turn. She removed the net and proceeded to remove the various curlers.

"When we get you dressed, I’ll put the net back to protect your ’do," Amy said as she started to brush the hair.

Now, I was in a quandary. On the one hand, I enjoyed the attention and just being around these lovely creatures; on the other, I really wasn’t me. Then again, was this the real me, and had I been living a lie all these years. Or was there some other explanation as to my enjoyment. YES, I was enjoying this experience, and I’m no longer ashamed to admit it. Logical, no; quirky, yes. I guess a long discussion with my sister might shed some light on that subject – the odd thing is I am feeling closer to my sister than I ever felt before.

Amy brushed, fussed, brushed some more then consulted a picture she had kept hidden from my view. I was curious about the picture, but did not ask to see it.

"Okay, little sister, time to get you prettied up for your debut," Jan declared cheerily as she entered the room. She came over, looked at me then exclaimed to Amy, "Oh my God, she’s perfect! I would never have believed it possible. She looks so much like Charlotte Henry!"

"Umm, no, more like Daphne in Scooby Doo, only with blonde hair," Joanne contributed.

With headband and hairnet in place, I was now ready for the upstairs dressing. About time! I’ve been running around in girl’s undies for nearly two hours. Soo, up the stairs we trooped, to the final phase of Operation Alice, or so I hoped.

 

To be continued.

Annie O.

 

 

 

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© 2002 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.