Chapter X: Barbecue (Part 2)
Monday 27th June. Before I left for school this morning I got a call from Sandra.
“What you doing after school, Sim?”
“Nothing.”
“Want to come get your ears pierced? I’ve heard about next Saturday. I’ve seen a picture of your costume. If you get them done today, with luck you’ll be able to wear earrings by the weekend. I’ve seen some that would be perfect. What do you say?”
“Yeah, sure, San. Can I meet you somewhere?”
“I’ll wait for you outside school. We can walk to the jewellers in the High Street. They’re fine for piercings and that’s where I’ve seen the earrings I want to get you.”
Sandra was waiting for me when I got out. I saw her tall black-clad figure as soon as I left the school buildings, attracting attention from the boys as they left through the school gates. We went straight to Tilly’s the jewellers. While I sat there getting the piercings, Sandra was buying earrings. It hardly hurt at all. They put a pair of little gold keepers in for me, and we went for coffee next door.
“What did you buy?”
“Here. Happy dressing-up.”
I opened the little box. Two tiny ice-cream cones with pink ice-cream scoops!
“Wow. Perfect! Thank you, Sandra. That’s so clever of you!”
“You deserve it. I’ve hardly ever seen anything so cute at that outfit you chose. I want you to wear it when we go out to dinner together.”
“Yeah? I will if you say so.”
“Oh, I insist!” And she leant over the table, took me by the chin, and gave me a gentle kiss on the lips. Sitting back, she added, “I’m taking Alice on Saturday. Shall I pick you up on the way? We need to be there by about eight because there’ll be preparations to make, and I’m going to be doing your make-up.”
“Thanks. Yes, that would be great. I’ll be ready by half seven, then.”
“Perfect!”
Wednesday 29th June. My piercings are fine. I’ve been washing them as instructed and I think I’ll definitely be able to wear my new earrings on Saturday. This evening I was in my bedroom when my aunt called me.
“Simon? Mrs Travers would like to talk to you.” I ran down and grabbed the phone.
“Hello?”
“Hello, Simon. Cynthia Travers here. Good news. Your costume arrived this afternoon. It’s all ready for you. There’s even a little headband hat. I was just wondering what you would like to do.”
“Oh, thank you so much! Could you just keep it there? I was planning to come over early on Saturday with Alice and Sandra. Sandra’s going to help me get ready.”
“Of course. Fine. Why don’t you have breakfast here? All you’ll need is shoes and socks, but your aunt says she’ll arrange that. It looks lovely, by the way. There’s even a little headband hat to go with it.”
“Gosh, I can’t wait!”
“Oh, and Debbie said you should probably have a tray if you wanted to play your part properly. So I’ve found you a little round plastic one you can carry. It’s not very big but you could probably serve a couple of burgers or ice-creams on it.”
“Great! That’s very thoughtful of you. I’m really looking forward to it.”
After I’d put the phone down Bea said,
“I looked closely at the picture. I think the little girl is wearing tap shoes. Unfortunately you don’t have anything like that, but I was thinking your pink Mary Janes would go perfectly. You could wear them with white ankle socks or tights.”
“Ankle socks please, aunt. I want to look as like the girl in the picture as possible. Did you find my underbriefs?”
“Yes, darling. Here we are.” She produced a tiny pair of frilled pink latex panties from her drawer. “They’re very fine but the rubber is strong. When you put your costume panties on over them, the frills will look as though they belong to them. Not that anyone will see them underneath that gorgeous skirt, but it will all help you feel like a real girl. Here, take them now and keep them in your room till Saturday. And here are your shoes and socks as well.”
She dumped them into my arms and I scampered off upstairs excitedly. Things were really coming together now!
Saturday 2nd July. I was up before seven, had a shower and washed my hair. I dressed in shorts, T-short and sandals. I packed my few accessories in my rucksack, together with my toothbrush and toilet bag in case I needed them. My aunt had found a pink leather evening bag, no bigger than a purse, with a silver clasp, into which she’d put an embroidered handkerchief and a little bottle of scent. This time I accepted her gift happily. The concept of girlhood no longer seemed remote, not the possibilities unattainable. I waited nervously for the girls to arrive.
At twenty to eight Sandra’s car drew up outside. I was watching from the front window. I grabbed my bag and ran to meet her at the door. Today no black leather. Jeans and a blue shirt knotted around her waist. Ankle boots. She threw her arms round me and lifted me off the ground for a second. She set me down and I ran to the car and jumped in the back behind Alice.
“Hi Sim. Big day. Yay!”
“Yeah.”
“You have earrings as well, I’m told.”
“I do!” I took the box out of my pocket and passed it to her. She lifted the lid and laughed.
“Oh my god, perfect! I can’t wait for you to be all dressed up.”
Sandra climbed back into the car and we set off for Debbie’s house.
“What are you and the others wearing?”
“We’ve all got different costumes. They all have weird names. I’m ‘Baby Doll’. Debbie’s is called ‘Poodle’, for no better reason than that there’s a poodle on her shirt. Then there’s Ophelia. She has ‘Could it be Magic’ – that’s an amazingly cute little pink and blue outfit. Several of us wanted that but she bagsied it first. Then there’s Ruth, Helen, Maia and Viola. Ruth has got something called ‘Top of the Class’ I think – which she definitely isn’t! Viola is “Dance Music’, which is really nice and simple, a bit like yours, but a stripy top and a shiny pink skirt. And Helen… let me think. Oh, yes, Helen is a really pretty black and purple dress called ‘Stole the Show’. Maia? She always has to be different. She thinks she’s like, really cool, if you know what I mean. She’s chosen these sort of black spandex leggings and top, with a black scarf round her neck. She reckons she’s going to wear them with ankle boots, though if she does then it’s not really a dance costume, is it? I mean, you can’t do modern dance in ankle boots, can you? I think the only reason is she wants to look grown up so she can flirt with Mike.”
“I thought you liked Mike.”
“Oh, he’s okay. I don’t care really. I didn’t want to invite her anyway.”
“So why did you?”
“Because we had to invite Helen, we both like her. And for some reason she and Maia are always hanging out together. So we had to take them as a pair.”
“Complicated. Yeah, I’ve noticed Maia is a bit snooty, like she’s better than everyone else. I hope there’s no friction at the barbecue.”
Oh, no, don’t worry Simon. I think we can all manage to get on with each other for a few hours. I like all the others anyway. You can make up your own mind about Maia, and you’ll get to see all the costumes yourself. You’ll be as pretty as any of them, I can tell you!”
When we arrived at the Travers residence, there were already three half-dressed little witches running around.
“Simon!” cried Chloe excitedly, “What are you dressing up as? Are you wearing your purple pants? Or new ones?”
“You’ll have to wait and see, Chloe,” I said. “So you’re the blue witch, then?” She had blue hair and blue lipstick and a blue leotard beneath swathes of black gauze.
“Yes, I’m the blue witch, Charlotte’s the green witch, and Amelia’s the pink witch.”
“Which witch is the most witchy of the lot?”
“I am, of course, because blue witches are the most evil ones of all!” And she gave me her most evil grimace and cackle. “But wait till Alice has finished putting our black make-up on and then you’ll be really terrified!”
“Well, I’ve got to get dressed, Chloe. I’ll see you later.”
“Purple and pink ones, please, Simon!”
“Come on,” said Sandra, “let’s get you ready.” She had brought her make-up case from the car.
“You can use the big bedroom,” said Mrs Travers. “You’ll find Simon’s costume on the chair.”
“Thanks, Cynthia,” said Sandra, and led the way. “Go and get dressed first. Call me when you’re ready and I’ll come and do your make-up.” She left, laying her case on the bed and closing the door behind her. I saw my costume neatly folded on the dressing-table stool. I unfolded it carefully and held it up against myself. I looked at myself in the full-length mirror. I have to admit I was trembling slightly with excitement. My first girl’s dress! I laid it on the bed and opened my rucksack. First, on went the latex underbriefs, followed by the pink spandex briefs. Just as auntie had said, the pink latex frills looked as though they belonged to the costume panties. Then the costume itself, which was all in one piece. I unzipped the front zip a few inches, pulled it over my head and got my arms through the sleeves. The body of it was so stretchy it was very easy to put on. I pulled it down until the waistband fitted snugly around my waist, and zipped up the zip against to the collar. I walked up and down a little. The crisp, shiny skirt, supported on its frothy underskirt, bounced a little as I walked, lightly tickling my thighs. I pulled out my shoes and socks and managed to get them on without having to sit down and crush my skirt – not that it would have mattered, but I felt irrationally concerned about creasing it. I returned to the mirror, still buzzing with nervous tension, and tried to take in my transformed self. It was stupid, I thought, considering the outfits I had been wearing, that this simple costume should have such an effect. I stared at myself. I could easily be female. I started to understand how those kids had no difficulty believing I was a girl. My face no longer looked like that of an adolescent boy, the way I had got used to seeing it. If it hadn’t been for my mass of unkempt hair I could almost be a girl. I was breathing hard, and feeling slightly dizzy, so I sat down on the stool, making sure I didn’t sit on my skirt. I forced myself to inhale slowly and deeply, until I felt a bit calmer. Then I called Sandra.
She must have been waiting outside the door.
“Oh, my…. You look…. You’re beautiful!”
Too much, I thought. I can’t deal with my own reaction and hers all at the same time.
“I’m just a bloke in a dress, San,” I said, deadpan.
“Oh, no, you’re a bit more than that. And you’re not even finished yet.”
She made me stand up again, and fussed around rearranging the costume, straightening my socks, and running her fingers through my hair, trying to get it to lie down.
“There’s nothing for it. It’s the gel. Sit back down on that stool and face the mirror.”
She opened her case and pulled up a chair beside me. She started by combing my hair back from my forehead as hard as she could. I emitted a little cry of protest.
“Don’t complain. I’ve only just started.”
She worked a foamy gel into my hair and combed again. After a while the bulk had disappeared and it lay relatively flat on my head. She applied a doubled-up hairband to keep in place, and then somehow wound the ponytail into a tight bun, which she secured with innumerable hairpins. “This is almost long enough to plait, young man!” When she was satisfied it was quite secure, she picked up the little headband waitress hat, and slid it firmly in place.
“There. First phase done. Do you have your new earrings?
“In my bag.”
She found the box and replaced the keepers with the little ice-cream cones.
“Perfect for this outfit, aren’t they? Now for the face.”
I still wasn’t in any way relaxed, but as Sandra started to work on my face, her hair tickling my cheek and my nostrils full of her scent, I experienced a sense of immense well-being.
“No eye-liner. Too hard. The merest touch of pink eye shadow, a little mascara, a little face-powder, a hint of rouge. That’s all you need. Oh, and some appropriate lip-gloss, of course.”
I was pretty calm, right up to the lip gloss. But as she started to paint my lips, working with such intense care and precision, I began to become aroused. I was gripping my thighs in a determination to keep absolutely still, and she must have noticed my fingers were digging into my flesh.
“Relax, Simon. I’m nearly done here.”
I tried to reply but she shushed me. “Keep still. You can speak after it’s dried.”
At last she was finished. She sat back to admire her work.
“That’s about the best I can do. Wait till you see yourself.”
I was breathing through my mouth in order to dry the lip gloss. I got up and went back to the mirror. I was so dumbfounded I felt nearer to tears than smiles. I turned to Sandra and held out my arms. She put hers around me and hugged me.
“Oh, you poor thing! You look as though you’re going to cry! Come on, you look amazing!”
“Yes. Thank you.”
She squeezed me hard for a minute.
“Oh, goodness. You certainly look like a girl, but you don’t feel like one down there, you naughty boy! Why so excited?”
“It’s you, idiot!” I managed to articulate.
“Well I’m afraid you’re going to have to wait a while, love. And me too. You’re Simone now, at a girls’ party. So behave like her! Here, have a squirt of scent!”
Sandra opened the door and ushered me out of the bedroom. I could hear a hubbub of female voices in the living-room. As I got to the doorway I could see all the girls were now in their costumes, showing them off to each other excitedly. I walked in. As the girls noticed me they stopped talking, all except Maia and Debbie, who seemed to be having an argument.
“I told you not to wear boots!” Debbie was saying, “It’s supposed to be a dance party!”
“So? I can dance in boots. I always do when I go to the club.”
“Not on our lawn, though. You’ll ruin the grass!”
“Well….” Maia began. But then she noticed Debbie had stopped arguing and was looking at the doorway. She followed her gaze.
“May I introduce…Simone!” said Sandra.
They all stared, speechless. For once I didn’t mind.
“H-how did you do that?” stuttered Debbie.
“Simon?” said Ophelia, “is that really you?”
“Wow! said Ruth, “You look like the real thing! I actually thought you were a girl when you walked in!”
“I feel like one,” I responded. “But you all look amazing! Ophelia, you look so glamorous! You all do! Maia, you look like Olivia Newton-John! Except for the boots, that is.”
“Told you so!” put in Debbie. But I could see Maia was gratified by my observation.
The next few minutes were occupied with the girls admiring my costume and make-up. Even Mrs Travers was impressed.
“I hope you don’t mind me saying so, Simon…sorry, I mean Simone … but you look so beautiful as a girl, quite as pretty as any of the others. If I didn’t know you I would assume you were a girl.”
“I don’t mind at all, Mrs Travers. In fact it feels quite natural to me to be dressed like this.”
“You wouldn’t have said that a year or two ago, said Alice. “Do you remember what you were like? Always getting in trouble, and into fights!”
“I’ve grown up. I’m not anything like that any more. It’s much better now. I couldn’t have had you as a friend back in those days.”
Alice smiled and gave me a hug. “No, and I would be very sorry if we weren’t friends, Sim.”
“That’s a point. You can call me Sim whenever you’re not sure whether I’m Simon or Simone. It’s good for either scenario! Or both.”
“Can you be both?”
“I usually am.”
“Come on everyone, let’s go outside and play some music!” said Debbie. And we were soon in the garden, dancing or sitting around in groups. I was with Debbie and Alice. Debbie said,
“Do you want to be in our club, Simone? Me and Alice? We collect information on everyone in the school. We know things you wouldn’t even believe. Do you want to join? And then we can tell each other all our secrets as well.”
“Sure, Debbie. I’d like that.”
And that was how it went, the whole morning. The other girls accepting me as a friend. No teasing, no poking fun or giggling at me amongst themselves. It was as if I was simply one of them. And I realised that that was exactly what I yearned for more than anything. To be accepted as an equal, to be confided in, to have real friends. I was too old to have this close comradeship with boys any more. That was all over when you reached about twelve or thirteen. But with girls it persisted, maybe into full adulthood! And after years of feeling marginalised, distrusted and labelled a “difficult” boy, I saw a way of being part of a society with whom I already had a natural empathy. I revelled in the experience. Every girl in the garden came and sat with me at one time or another. Often they talked to me seriously, I imagine in a way they would never have talked to a normal boy. They didn’t feel the need to flirt, they didn’t seek my attention in any sexual way, but they clearly liked me and I liked them. Perhaps for them it was just the novelty, but there was a sort of mutual respect and they clearly felt comfortable being with me. The only exception was Maia, who talked to me but who couldn’t refrain from seasoning her conversation with a hint of sarcasm, as if she regarded me as a fraud, or an interloper, or perhaps a competitor. I tried to explain that I hadn’t always been happy as a boy, or at least the type of boy I had been, and that my attraction to taking on the trappings of her gender was not artificial or assumed. But I could understand her distrust, and I expected to encounter it frequently in the future if my transformation became more permanent.
By about twelve, everyone was getting hungry. Grant had lit the barbecue, and then Mike arrived and started helping prepare lunch. They were grilling burgers and peppers, and cutting up loads of tomatoes and cuc-umbers and lettuce on a trestle table. Mike was grilling burger buns and bringing bottles of ketchup and mustard and sauce from the kitchen. The food smelt lovely. As burgers became ready, I performed my function as the principal waitress. The girls were sitting round in groups on the law, and I carried their food to them on my little tray. I practised putting the plates on the ground without bending over and showing my knickers. I was very ladylike. Only the witches were rude enough to try and see up my skirt, until I threatened, as their official waitress, to give their ice-cream desserts to the others. After I had served everyone else, both with burgers and ice-cream, I sat down with Alice and Debbie to finish my own lunch. Grant and Mike were lounging by the barbecue having a beer. After a while, Mike wandered over to where we sat.
“Can I join you?”
“Sure, Mike,” said Debbie. “Sit down.”
Mike eased himself to the turf, and sat sipping his beer, not saying much, looking around the garden. He was at college with Grant now. I recognised him vaguely from when he was at Queen Alexandra. He was fair, clean shaven, and has nice, open blue eyes. Quite attractive, in fact. I could see why Alice, and probably a few of the others, might fancy him.
“Enjoying the party?” he asked.
“Yeah, great,” said Alice. She was about to say something else, when who should arrive at our little gathering but Maia.
“Hi, Mike,” she smiled, striking a pose, “how are you?” With the emphasis on the last word, and looking him straight in the eyes with an assumption of familiarity.
“Oh, hi, Maia,” he replied. “Yeah, I’m good. You?”
“Yeah, good. All the better for seeing you.” Mike looked slightly embarrassed.
Alice looked at me and Debbie with an expression which suggested imminent nausea. Maia didn’t notice, instead seating herself between Mike and me and, folding her legs under herself with studied coquettishness, tilted her head to one side and looked at him meaningfully. She ran one hand down the shiny black spandex of her thigh and contemplated her red nail polish. Mike clearly felt awkward. In an attempt, as I thought, to divert attention from this performance, he leant forward so he could see me.
“Hello. I don’t think we’ve met. I thought I knew most of Debbie’s friends.”
“Oh, sorry Mike. Hi. I’m…Simone. I’m in Debbie’s class at school.”
“Oh, really? You must be new then.”
“Oh…yes. Just this year,” I lied, "so that’s why, you know, you wouldn’t have seen me before.”
“I like you costume very much. It suits you. The pink, you know, looks really good on you.”
Now he was ignoring Maia completely, and she was not happy.
“I’ve got to get back to my friends,” she snapped, and she jumped up and flounced off.
Mike simply ignored her sudden departure, and carried on talking to me.
“So what do you think of Queen Alexandra? Do you like it there?”
“Oh, yes, very much. You’re at sixth form college now with Grant, aren’t you? What are you studying?”
At this point Alice whispered something to Debbie, Debbie said, “Excuse us. We have to go see my mum about something.” And they were gone. I was left with Mike, who, after chatting me up for another five minutes, finally got to the point.
“Er, Simone, er, I was wondering if you’d like to go for a drink one evening? Maybe a meal too. I’m sure you’re busy, but, you know, if…”
For a moment, I wanted to say yes. He seemed really nice. But apart from anything else, it would have been grossly unfair to him. So I simply said, “Mike, you know I would, I think you’re really nice, but unfortunately I have a boyfriend at the minute.”
Poor Mike was overcome with confusion. “Oh, I’m sorry, of course you must have. Lovely to speak to you, though. I’d better go see how Grant’s getting on.”
“You don’t have to go.”
“No, I’d better. Lovely to talk to you.”
“And to you.”
I sat there alone for some minutes trying to analyse my feelings. They were complicated. First, amusement at his error, but a certain pride in the fact I was able to compound his error even at close quarters. Second, a minor surge of vanity, because I had been found desirable by a very attractive guy. Third, a degree of curiosity at the outcome if I had gone on a date with him, either maintaining the pretence of being a girl or admitting the truth. And fourth, and most disconcerting, the fact I had actually felt some physical attraction to him, and been forced to consider the possibilities of a previously unthought of type of relationship. I was pondering all these matters when the girls returned.
“So did he ask you out?” queried Debbie at once.
“Yes. I said I already had a boyfriend.”
“Oh, spoilsport! You should have gone for it.”
“That's great,” said Alice, slightly peeved, “I’ve been hoping he would ask me out for ages, but he never has. You waltz in here and he’s all over you straight away.”
“Never mind, Alice,” said Debbie. “It was probably just the costume.”
“You know it wasn’t anything to do with that.”
“Seriously though, Sim, you could easily go out with a bloke, you know. I bet a lot of them wouldn’t care you were a boy, not if they liked you enough.”
“But I don’t know if I’m into that, Deb. I don’t know anything at the moment.”
“Look! That bitch Maia is going over to him! She’s gonna tell him!”
And indeed she was. She was clearly put out. Glaring at me she went straight up to Mike and spoke to him, pointing in our direction. He looked startled, then turned red, then had a word with Grant, said something abrupt, and left the party without looking back.”
“Oh, dear,” said Alice, “I don’t think we’ll see Mike for a bit now.”
And it rather put a damper on our mood. But as Debbie said, “He had to find out sometime, so better now than later.”
We looked at each other glumly. “Well that’s today’s excitement over, anyway.” Said Alice. But she was wrong.
� Betty Pearl's Sissy Stories 20.1
Topic: Simon (Read 41315 times)
