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Wes Boyd’s Spearfish Lake Tales Contemporary Mainstream Books and Serials Online |
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Wes Boyd’s Spearfish Lake Tales Contemporary Mainstream Books and Serials Online |
Since Daylight Savings Time had ended the previous Sunday, it was well after dark when Aaron and Scott turned into the parking lot of the Chicago Inn the night before the party. Aaron’s and Scott’s parents had both agreed to watch over their respective grandkids for party night, which simplified the babysitting problem immensely. Since both sets of kids had to go to Bradford, Sonja and Amber had cooked up the idea of the guys hauling them down there while the ladies made other preparations. The men had to be getting back, since there was still decorating to do, but they’d worked it out to grab a bite on the way.
There had been a lot of preparations going on over the past three weeks. The couples had gotten together several times to work on this detail and that; in that time, Scott and Aaron had renewed their old friendship, while Sonja and Amber had built a pretty good one of their own. It was refreshing; none of them liked to admit it, but they hadn’t done very well at making close friendships with any neighbors after college. The shared plans and intrigues built on top of Scott and Aaron’s old friendship were rapidly overcoming that.
The Chicago Inn wasn’t very busy when they walked in, but they were a little surprised to see Liz greet them. “Good grief, they have you working nights, too?” Aaron asked.
“Just some swapping around shifts so I don’t have to come in Saturday morning,” she shrugged. “Smoking or nonsmoking?”
“Since the women aren’t around I might just take the opportunity to have a cigarette, if I can find one to borrow,” Aaron said.
“I’ll snatch some out of my purse for you,” she smiled. “So do you guys have your costumes about ready for the party?”
“I’m not sure,” Scott shrugged. “Sonja’s setting it up, and she’s not telling me anything about what she’s been up to. Lord knows what she’s coming up with.”
“Same here,” Aaron shook his head. “The two of them have been thick as thieves with each other, but they clam up when we ask them what’s going on. I would not be surprised to be as dolled up as Miss America.”
“That’s kind of what I’m doing with Mike,” she grinned. “I don’t think I can push him too far, but he agreed to shave off his mustache, so I’ve got a start. This should be fun.”
“Yeah,” Scott shook his head. “I can just see you women laughing your heads off at us.”
“That’s what I figure,” Aaron nodded. “Are you and Mike driving up?”
“We were going to, but Emily got involved,” Liz reported. “She figured things were going to get a little wet, so she talked to Jason, and he’s borrowing a twelve-passenger van from somewhere. Emily and Kevin, Dayna and Sandy, Diane and Larry, Vicky and Jason, and Mike and me are going to all ride together. Vicky’s driving, she doesn’t drink at all anymore.”
“Makes sense,” Aaron nodded. “I’ll tell you right now, watch out for the punch. Amber had me stop at a liquor store in the rough part of town to get a couple of quarts of Everclear.”
“Jeez, Everclear!” Liz laughed. “She’s not fooling around, is she?”
“No, she’s not, and that worries me a little,” Aaron shook his head. “Roast goat and Everclear punch, Lord knows what the costumes are going to look like.”
“Hey, roast goat is pretty good,” Liz laughed. “I mean, I like it a lot better than venison. You guys want coffee?”
Both the guys agreed that sounded good, and they glanced at the menu while Liz went to get it. “What’s this Everclear stuff?” Scott asked.
“It’s 190-proof grain alcohol, the rummie’s delight,” Aaron shook his head. “Pretty powerful, but almost tasteless. You remember the story about Amber and me waking up in a strange bed together? I think that’s where she got the idea.”
“Sounds like a designated driver might not be a bad idea,” Scott shook his head. “Aaron, I think we created a monster.”
“No question about it. Christ knows what else our wives are up to that they haven’t told us about.” He let out a long sigh. “Well, we wanted to have an interesting story to tell. Scott, let me tell you, I learned one thing out of this already: be careful what you ask for. You might get it.”
“There is that,” he nodded. “Whatever happens, I don’t think it’s going to be dull and boring.”
“That’s pretty clear,” Aaron agreed as Liz came back, carrying a pack of cigarettes, a lighter, and her order pad. She set them down and asked them if they’d figured out what they wanted yet. Both Scott and Aaron said they thought the meat loaf special sounded pretty good. “Scott,” he asked after Liz left with their order, “What do you really think about this dressing in drag thing?”
“I’m of several minds about it,” Scott sighed, pulling a cigarette from Liz’s pack and lighting it. “The bottom line is that it doesn’t really mean anything and we all know it, so we might as well let them have their fun. On the other hand, I’ll admit to a little curiosity, and they’re right, there’ll never be a better opportunity to peek over the gender fence without it really meaning anything.” He let out a sigh. “Aaron, did you ever find yourself envying women for the way they can dress? I don’t mean how they can dress and look like women, but the range of stuff they can do and we can’t?”
“I don’t quite follow you.”
“I don’t follow it all myself,” Scott admitted. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot the last couple weeks. Let’s talk about dressing nicely, like office nice, not blue jeans and T-shirts like both men and women can wear, like Liz over there,” he said, nodding in the direction of their waitress in blue jeans and a “Chicago Inn” T-shirt, the normal uniform in the place. “I don’t know about your shop, but in mine for men it’s suit and ties all the time. Once a month we have a dress-down day, but that basically means no tie, they get testy if you wear a sport shirt.”
“They don’t insist on suit coats for the office staff at my shop, but they like to see us in a tie,” Aaron shrugged. “Mostly because a lot of people have to spend time on the plant floor, like I do. But senior staff, yeah, it’s suit and tie.”
“Right.” Scott nodded. “But damn, if you’re a woman, you can get away with almost anything so long as it looks nice and businesslike. You take a woman in my shop, at any level, and there’s almost no limit to how mannish they can dress, and by that I mean right up to suit and tie. We’ve got one gal – she’s a little butch anyway – who often wears a tie with a woman’s suit, with a skirt. Or, she’ll wear a suit with pants, but kind of a frilly ribbon bow tie, just to point out that she’s still a woman. But there’s hardly any limit on a woman going feminine, so long as it’s neat and not too hot.”
“Well,” Aaron shrugged. “Men like women to look pretty.”
“True, but women like to look pretty, at least some of the time, mostly because they want to attract our attention. It doesn’t necessarily work the other way. But they’ve got so many tools in their toolbox, so many ways they can look pretty, compared to men that I’m a little jealous.”
“Wellll . . . yeaah,” Aaron frowned, getting the idea a little.
“Take another example,” Scott said. “Swimsuits. Women have a broad range of stuff they can wear to show off their bodies. Some of it’s pretty spectacular. Men, we just have swim trunks, except in the rare situation where guys with the bodies to get away with it can wear something like a Speedo. We’re really not using the swimsuit to show off. They are. The point is, I envy them their range of options.”
“I guess men and women look at clothes differently,” Aaron shrugged.
“Of course they do,” Scott nodded. “Back after the reunion, we sat for hours listening to Eve talk about how she changed from being Denis. I keep thinking that she’s the only person I know who really knows both sides of the fence.”
“When you put it that way, I’ll admit to a little curiosity, but I’m not quite that curious.”
“I’m not either, but I don’t mind saying that, while I think that the idea of dressing in drag is pretty queer, it might just be fun to take a little peek over the fence. And hell, I might even learn something.” He stubbed his cigarette out in the ash tray and added. “If I didn’t think that I’d never have let myself get talked into this deal in the first place.”
Sonja’s technical editing and website development work was sporadic – it was done on a piecework basis; sometimes she was very busy at the computer, and oftentimes she wasn’t. While it would have been nice to have her working a regular job and drawing a regular paycheck, Scott had also come to appreciate getting home to find her there, ready to help him unwind from what could sometimes be tense days, and sometimes boring ones.
But the last several weeks there had been times that Scott got home to be met by Brianna, a high school kid up the street, who could be pressed into babysitting after school. Sonja had been doing quite a bit of shopping for the party – she often wasn’t willing to get into details, but he knew she’d picked up a few unspecified things for Amber, who had a tougher time getting free during the week. He had been getting pretty curious about what she’d been up to, and knew he was now going to find out. Just go with the flow, he thought as he opened the garage door. Let it happen.
“I’m a little surprised to see you here,” he said once he got inside. “I’m getting used to being greeted by Brianna’s zit-filled face.”
“You just barely caught me,” she smiled. “I just got back from hauling some stuff over to Aaron and Amber’s. She took the afternoon off. Look, if you’re hungry, maybe you’d better grab a sandwich or something, it’s going to be a while before we eat. You know how it takes a woman longer to get dressed than it does a man, and it’s going to take us even longer with you, so we need to get started.”
“I could stand a sandwich,” he agreed, “if nothing else other than to settle my stomach.”
“There’s some meat loaf in the fridge,” she nodded. “Are you getting a little nervous about this?”
“‘Getting’ isn’t exactly a fair word to use.”
“Relax, Scott,” she smiled. “It’s all in fun. It’s Halloween, anyone would understand.”
A few minutes later, he’d finished the sandwich and followed her up to the bathroom. “Take off your shirt and pants,” she ordered, “Then start off with getting a really, really close shave. Use the electric, then go over it with a blade.” It took a few minutes, and he started to put the shaving stuff away. “Not yet,” she smiled as she picked up some electric hair clippers. “We’ve got more to do. We’ve got to clean up your chest, arms, and legs, too.”
“What?” he frowned.
“The dress I’ve got for you would look pretty silly with a hairy chest showing,” she smiled. “Details, Scott, details.”
“But Sonja,” he protested. “Isn’t that going a little too far?”
“Come on, Scott,” she smiled sweetly. “Do it for me. It’s going to be months before you’ll be wearing shorts or a short-sleeve shirt again, it’ll have plenty of time to grow back. Remember, the contest is to do realistic, not a caricature. Besides,” she added, giving him a little kiss, “Maybe it’ll help you understand just a little bit about being a woman.”
“All right,” he sighed. “What’s with the hair clippers?”
“I can clean up the long hairs with it, so we don’t clog up the razor,” she told him. “Besides, I have to raise your sideburns a little. Come on, it’s not like you have to give up a mustache like Liz’s husband.”
“She told us about that last night,” he reported. “But I don’t remember telling you.”
“Amber mentioned it,” she smiled as she switched on the hair clippers.
The nearly all-over shave took a while; Sonja even had to shave his back a little. Second thoughts were running rampant all the way, but he realized he was committed now; there wasn’t much to do except go along with it. Finally, she declared it about as good as it was going to get and told him to take a shower, wash his hair, dry it thoroughly, and then come into the bedroom. Several minutes later, he came out of the bathroom, wearing only a towel. “Are you ready to get dressed?” she smiled.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
“All right,” she said, handing him a pair of lacy black bikini panties. “Put these on.”
Scott would rather have touched a snake. “Sonja . . . ”
“Hey, the idea is to have you feel like a sexy woman, right?” she smiled. “Nothing makes me feel as sexy as sexy underwear, even if I’m the only one who knows I have it on.”
Realizing that protest was useless, he shrugged and pulled them on.
“There,” she smiled. “Doesn’t that feel sexier already? They’re sheer and soft and nice, not like the rough cotton jockeys you wear, just like a maiden’s touch, as smooth as a second skin.”
“You’re laying it on a little thick,” he smiled.
“Oh, but you love it, don’t you?” she smiled. “I can see that it’s turning you on already. Scott, we don’t have time to do anything about it right now, but I promise you that we will later. And I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re a lot more turned on.”
“I remember Eve telling us about how she had to tuck her dick and balls when she was Denis,” he said. “I don’t know about that.”
“I think we can get away without it in the dress you’re going to be wearing,” she replied. “I don’t remember if it was Eve or Shae who said that she didn’t do it all the time, only when she had to. I’d think it’d be uncomfortable if you’re not used to it. OK, next up, your garter belt.”
“Garter belt?”
“Scott,” she sighed. “How many times have you told me that you think a garter belt and hose are sexier than pantyhose?”
“That’s on you.”
“And tonight, on you,” she smiled, handing him a black garter belt. Without comment, he slid it on. He knew from watching her in the past that the straps had to be threaded under the panties, so he did so without her asking. “Good, you picked that up already,” she smiled. “We might as well do the hose now. Normally I’d put that off a while, but we’ve got to do a few things special.”
She had to coach him in how to put on the dark nylons. It wasn’t just a case of grabbing them by the top and pulling them up; they could be damaged that way. “Scott, you know to keep your knees together, and not cross your legs except at the ankles, right?” she smiled.
“Yeah, I think I figured that much out. Sonja, I have to say that’s an interesting feeling, the sort of, oh, smooth friction glide when they slide over each other.”
“Yes, I like that, too,” she smiled. “Don’t you just love that smooth, silky feeling all over your legs? Isn’t that cool? When I first started wearing nylons, I wore them all the time, even under my jeans.”
“It is pretty neat,” he grinned.
“Congratulations,” she beamed. “Now you’re exploring your feminine side a little. I’ll bet you didn’t even know you had one, did you?”
“It is a little different.”
“It’s a lot different, we’re just getting started. Now for your bra.”
“But I don’t need a bra. I don’t have breasts to support and shape like you do.”
“Yes, but you’d like some, wouldn’t you?” she grinned. “Come on, Scott, I can tell from the way that you play with mine that you’d love to have a pair of your very own, wouldn’t you? You adore breasts, don’t you? Come on, confess it!”
“I sure like yours,” he grinned. “But the fact remains that there’s nothing to work with on me.”
“There is, a little,” she said. “Granted, you don’t have much, but I know girls who don’t even have that much. You just have to make do. Now, I’m going to have to put this on you; it hooks in back and we don’t have all night.”
The bra proved to be a strapless long-line bra, black and lacy, with lots of stretch. But, as she hooked the clasps up the back, it seemed more and more like they were heading into forbidden territory; Scott was having feelings he couldn’t describe, and was just a little embarrassed to reflect how turned on he was. The cups were not large, but were both padded and underwired to give some shape, and he discovered that the padding was not just padding – it gathered up what little semblance of breasts he had and pushed them towards the center. Amazingly enough, he could feel that his nipples weren’t covered in padding, but just the thin lace fabric of the bra top. Looking down, he could see a little bulge above the bra line. “There,” she smiled as she finished up. “Doesn’t that make you feel more feminine, more sexy? It feels really nice, now, don’t deny it! Think of the band as me hugging you, and the cups as my palms holding your breasts up and molding them, massaging them gently as you move. Think of this bra as my love surrounding you and containing you.”
“You’re laying it on a little thick,” he replied genially. “But yeah, I feel a little of that. It is kind of sexy in a way.”
“I think it is, too,” she grinned. She’d just finished fastening the row of clasps on the back of the bra, now she reached around and wrapped her hands around his breasts, and tweaked his nipples with her fingers – only now did he realize just how aroused and sensitive they were. “Oh, I love you, Scott, I do,” she whispered in his ear.
Somehow, things changed with that; his reluctance was starting to fade away, replaced with curiosity and interest at the strange feelings that were being aroused by the feminine apparel. Just bits of cloth, but with such power, such mystique!
“Now we’re ready for the dress,” she said. “I sure hope this works. I took your measurements and set up Amber’s dress form to alter it.” She let out a sigh. “If it doesn’t fit, we’ll have to go to the backup; there’s no question of it fitting, but it’s nowhere near as spectacular.”
“You bought more than one?”
“Actually, I’d already bought the backup when I saw this one in the Goodwill store. I’ve only got five dollars in it, but wow! I’ll be right back.” She turned and headed over to her closet, and reached into the side hidden from the door, and pulled out a spectacular blue dress, sparkly and glittery from being covered with sequins.
“Holy crap, Batgirl,” he said. “You only paid five bucks at the Goodwill store for that?”
“Only five,” she confirmed. “Probably whoever bought it new paid hundreds of dollars for it. But I understand why it was at the Goodwill store. There are not many places a woman can wear something this far over the top, unless her name is Vanna White. Fortunately, we’re going to one of them. I don’t think it’d look good on my skin color, but it ought to work fine for you. Let me help you put this on.”
The dress itself was preceded with a light-weight black crinoline that would make the skirt stand out. She helped him slide his arms through the spaghetti straps on the shoulders, and helped him slide it down over his body. Then she had him turn around and zipped up a short zipper in the back. “There,” she smiled. “How does that feel?”
“I can’t describe it, other than to say weak in the knees,” he replied honestly, moving around a little, feeling the swish of the hem of the skirt on his knees. It really was a heady rush – not only doing the forbidden thing of wearing a dress, but one that felt so smooth and slinky, so spectacular. “I can’t think of any way to describe it, anything to compare it to.”
“You know,” she said as she stood back and gave the dress a critical look. “You probably don’t. You’ve probably only ever worn men’s fabrics with hard, men’s names, like wool, cotton, polyester. Women’s fabrics even have soft names, feminine names. I mean think cashmere, chambray, chenille, cretonne, lamé, organdy, piqué, velvet, satin, tulle. And taffeta! What ordinary, normal man ever has the good fortune to wear taffeta?” She let out a sigh. “I guess I can say it fits. It might be just a touch snug in the waist, but I think I hit it pretty good. Sit down, let’s make sure it’s not too tight.”
He swung around to sit on the bed. “Scott, no!” she cried. “You just don’t plunk your butt down, especially with a skirt like that on. Come on, you’ve seen me reach behind my butt to smooth out a skirt as I sit down so it doesn’t get wrinkled from sitting on it. It makes the dress look like hell, it’s uncomfortable to sit on wrinkles, and it can get, well, pretty immodest.”
“This is more complicated than it looks,” he sighed, standing up to do it over again right.
“I grew up with things like that, but I didn’t think about it until I listened to Eve the other night. She had to learn all that stuff, Scott, learn it on the fly, and learn it while keeping it a secret from the rest of you kids. The more I think about it the more awesome it seems.”
“Worked out for her,” he agreed.
“It sure did,” she smiled. “Just like that magnificent dress is going to work for you. I’m relieved at that. OK, I want to get the genie outfit on next; it’s going to take a few minutes. I’ve got some shoes for you, you might want to try them on and do some walking in them. They’re heels, not very high, but it’s a little different.”
“Sonja, so far so good, I think,” he said as he took the shoes from her and slid them on. “But my hair looks pretty butch.”
“We’re not done yet,” she smiled as she stripped out of her slacks. “But we are getting tight for time. Try walking in those heels, and walk like a woman, not a man. Try to walk on the balls of your feet, heel and ball at the same time, not landing on your heel and rolling to the ball of your foot or else you’re going to fall flat on your ass.”
He tried it. It wasn’t easy. “I can do it a little,” he said. “But I’d hate to do it all evening.”
“Stay with it,” she said. “I’ll take some flat pumps you can wear, but wear the heels for now, they’ll force you to walk more like a woman.”
Scott tried walking up and down the room, while Sonja pulled on her costume. There was no simple way to describe it, even name it – they called it at different times, “the harem girl outfit,” “the genie outfit,” or “the belly dancer outfit,” and it was really pretty close to the last. It involved loose pants, a small top that left the waist bare, a wide hip scarf, and lots of bangles – Sonja jingled when she walked in it. She’d watched a couple of instructional tapes on belly dancing, and could sort of do a few of the simpler moves, and Scott thought it looked pretty awesome, even though it rarely got used. It was not a simple outfit, but Sonja had put it on enough that it went fairly quickly.
Sonja had her costume pretty well on except for the headpiece when the doorbell rang. “Get that, would you hon?” she said absently.
“Sonja, not on your life,” he shook his head.
“Oh, don’t worry about it,” she grinned. “That’s probably Tanya. If it’s someone else, just tell them the truth, you’re getting ready for a costume party.”
“Not a chance in hell,” he snorted. “And who the hell is Tanya?”
“OK, I’ll get it,” she smirked as she headed for the front door. “Tanya’s my hairdresser; she’s going to do hair and makeup for both of us.”
Scott shook his head. Things were already considerably more elaborate than he’d first supposed, and it looked like it was going to get worse. Helplessly, he wondered what Aaron was going through right now. Probably pretty much the same thing, he realized; Sonja and Amber had obviously done a lot of comparing notes. Walking slowly and tentatively on the low heels, he followed Sonja out to the living room, to see her showing in a short, solid, thirtyish woman with a flashy blonde hairdo, carrying a large leather case. “We worked that out about right,” Sonja said. “We’re just ready for you.”
Tanya looked Sonja up and down. “That’s quite an outfit,” she smiled with a shake of her head. She glanced at Scott, and got a broad smile on her face. “Can I buy a vowel? That dress has to have done time on Wheel of Fortune.”
“What do you think?” Sonja asked.
She walked over to Scott, who stood there speechless, mostly because he couldn’t find anything to say. “Not bad,” Tanya replied finally. “Boobs need a little work, but nothing I can’t fix in a jiffy. Move your arms back and forth a little so I can see what’s happening.”
“Don’t tell me you’ve done something like this before?” Scott finally managed to say as he complied with her order.
“Well, not quite like this,” Tanya grinned. “But I do makeup at beauty pageants some, and you’d be surprised at some of the things you don’t see to make a flat-chested girl show some cleavage. I’m going to have to get under that bra for a minute, though.”
It proved to be simpler than Scott thought – just taking the spaghetti straps off his shoulders and peeling the dress down. In seconds, he could feel the bra being unhooked. “What’s happening,” Tanya said, “is that as you move your chest is sliding down into the bra a little since there’s really nothing there to keep it in place.” She set the case down on the sofa, opened it up, and after a second’s digging around came up with some surgical tape. “We’ll just tape you up a little so they can’t get away. OK, put your hands on your sides up about nipple level and push everything together for me.”
In seconds, there were two strips of tape keeping things together. “It’ll feel a little funny for a while, but once you get that bra back on it shouldn’t be too bad. Like I said, you wouldn’t believe how many girls I’ve done that to.”
Sonja started putting the bra back on. “I probably ought to explain what’s going on here,” she said. “Amber and I talked it over. I know a fair amount about makeup, but for my skin color. The tricks and techniques are different for someone as light as you are, so she agreed it wasn’t unfair to have a little help. So I talked to Tanya, and she’s going to do me and show me a couple tricks I didn’t know, either. She does theatrical makeup and sells cosmetics. I’m interested in seeing what she’s come up with.”
“I spent a little time checking out pictures of belly dancer’s makeup,” Tanya explained. “It’s going to be a little more lurid than we’re going to do to you, Scott, but she’ll be able to get away with it with that costume, and she’ll know how to do it the next time. You want to go get that wig, Sonja? And honey, is there some way we can get a little more light in here?”
In a couple minutes, Scott was perched on a bar stool from the counter, while Tanya fitted him for a blonde wig that Sonja had come up with some place. “Not a bad wig,” Tanya mused. “Up close in daylight it’d be obvious it’s a wig, but it’ll pass for a party.” Scott couldn’t quite describe what she was doing, except that she was fiddling with his hair and the wig. “Not bad,” Tanya said after a few minutes, and a little work with a comb. “OK, honey, that’s being held on with both pins and double-sided tape, so it’s in place pretty solid. Don’t try to get it off by yourself unless you like getting your hair pulled. Have Sonja help, OK?”
Scott could feel the weight of the wig as it rested against his bare shoulders and back. It had a silky, sensual feel to it, not quite a tickle, just a slight touch that made him aware of it. “I’m wondering how this looks.”
“Looks pretty good, but let’s get some makeup on you before we let you see how good it is,” she smiled. “I’m not going to do a heavy makeup job on you like I am on Sonja, but we’re trying to do two different things. From what Sonja said, you’re not too clued into this, but generally speaking, heavy makeup usually isn’t good makeup, and the last thing we want you to look like is a double of Tammy Fay Bakker. We just want to accentuate some highlights without being overbearing, and get enough foundation on your cheeks and jaw to cover up your hair follicles.” She glanced down. “A little on your chest, too, and also the other part of my trick to give you some cleavage.”
She did that first, brushing a little light makeup on the exposed part of his “breasts,” and some darker makeup down in the “cleavage” itself. “A little fool-the-eye,” she explained. “It makes it look like there’s more shadow there than there really is, which makes it look like there’s more there than there really is. Now for the rest of it.” She turned to Sonja. “No eyebrow plucking, right?”
“I don’t think he’d be too crazy about it,” Sonja smiled. “I’d say no false lashes, either.”
“I don’t like them myself, most times,” Tanya said, reaching in her case.
Tanya spent the next fifteen minutes or so working on Scott’s face, with considerable time around the eyes. Sonja watched every move, obviously learning things she hadn’t known before. Finally, the makeup artist stood back, took a critical look, and said, “I think that’s about it. Not bad, if I say so myself.”
“A couple final touches,” Sonja said, fastening a blue-beaded and chrome necklace around Scott’s neck, and putting a pair of matching bracelets around his wrists. “I’d say we’re pretty well there. It’s over an hour since you started shaving. Now do you see why it takes us women a while to get ready?”
“I do,” he conceded. “Being that I don’t know how this looks, I can see why it takes so long, but I can already see that it can be worth the effort.”
“That’s why we go to the trouble,” Tanya grinned. “Hop up and go check out a mirror. Sonja, let’s get started on you.”
Scott got up and headed for the bedroom, where there was a full-length mirror while Sonja and Tonya trailed along behind. “Not bad,” he conceded, then let out a sigh. “I have to say that I look like a guy in drag, but that was the point, anyway.”
“Not really,” Tanya smiled. “Visually, you’re not that far from passing. There’s other things, voice, body language, the way you move, all of which would take a lot of practice. But I’d say that’s about as good as can be done under the circumstances.”
“Yeah, but I feel like a caricature of a woman,” Scott shook his head.
“I think you look pretty good,” Sonja smiled. “Remember what Eve said, she still worries a little about passing after ten years, even after no one picked her out at the reunion before she outed herself. That had to have been a stiffer test than being among strangers.”
“She’s right,” Tanya said. “You’re going to see yourself in your eyes, not through the eyes of others. Sonja told me a little about Eve, and even after ten years as a woman she still can’t quite make herself believe it. This is your first crack out of the box, babe. Don’t worry about it.”
“I suppose,” he sighed, as he turned to follow the women back toward the living room, where Tanya went to work on Sonja. “Just thinking about it,” Sonja said, “I remember Eve saying that she took that name, rather than Denise, so there’d be a little mental separation between who was who. You don’t look like a Scott right now, but I can’t think of a feminine version of the name.”
“How about Mary?” Tanya laughed.
“Seems like sort of plain,” Sonja shook her head.
“Yeah, but I was thinking, ‘Mary, Queen of Scots.’”
“Ohh, that’s baaad!” Sonja winced. “I like it!”
