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Cinderfella By Heather St. Claire The first nine years of the life of Eldon Ross IV were filled with happiness. He was the only child of Marsha Ross And Eldon Ross III, and he was deeply loved and indulged. Though he was young and innocent, he knew his life was special; it even occurred to him that in some ways he was living a fairy tale. After all, he lived in a wonderful mansion overlooking the great metropolis below. He thought of their home as a castle on a hill; his father was a strong, handsome and brave as any knight or king; and his mother was as beautiful, sweet and loving as any princess. Now if only a fairy godmother would show up, and make his life complete by granting his fondest wish, and turning him into a girl. Not that his parents hadn't done their best to indulge his desire; they brought him all the dolls, dresses and other "girl things" that he wanted, and allowed him to spend as much time as he pleased as his alter-ego, Ellen. The youngster even had two bedrooms, with a connecting door. The first one belonged to Eldon IV.. There was a larger-than-life mural of an astronaut on one wall, a very menacing dinosaur on another. The bedspread was covered with the emblems of major league football teams. The shelves were crammed with video games and other boy toys; toys that mostly were played with by his male guests. The closets and dressers? Filled with boy clothing; although there were a couple of suits, it was mostly T-shirts, jeans and slacks, the kinds of things any youngster his age would wear; there were just so many of them, and they all seemed brand new. The other bedroom? That was Ellen's, and it was truly another world. The walls were papered in a pale pink decorated with small red rosebuds. A large, soft canopy bed was the centerpiece of the room. The toys on the shelves in this room were neatly arranged; mostly dolls, dollhouses, tea sets and books.....everything from the complete Oz series to Nancy Drew. Young Eldon must have been somewhere between three and four the first time he played dress up, putting on an old shirt of his father's and his oversize shoes. His parents, of course were delighted. The second time, he wore one of mother's old blouses, one of her wigs, a string of her pearls, and some lipstick crudely smeared across his mouth. This time, they acted charmed, but were a little concerned. "All children experiment, honey," his mother told his father. "I wouldn't worry." But when he donned feminine gear a second time and then a third, they saw the making of a trend. After several discussions, most involving themselves, some with a child psychologist, they decided to humor him for as long as his feminine inclinations lasted. "I think it's kind of sweet, actually," his mother said with a wistful smile. His father wondered to himself if her feelings had anything to do with her deep longing for a daughter, and their apparent inability to conceive a second child. But whatever the motivation, Eldon's tendency to spend more and more time as Ellen was fully indulged. In time, he acquired a second wardrobe, set of playthings, and finally, the second bedroom. Eldon was enrolled in a private school with other wealthy children; although he attended school as Eldon, many of his friends knew of his double life. Sometimes he would have male friends over for a long session of video games. But more often, Ellen welcomed her girl friends for an afternoon tea party with their dolls. The years passed, and the dual life of Eldon and Ellen continued. Although father was least pleased with the situation, he wanted to make his son and wife happy, and he was the most distant from it. Eldon III wasn't content with merely overseeing the family business empire from a polite distance; he took a very active role in managing it, determined to make it grow. "You're going to work yourself into an early grave, dear, and for what, dear?" Marsha said more than once. "We already have more money than we can ever use." Eldon III would nod indulgently and promise to cut back; he might have even meant those promises when he made them; but somehow, nothing ever changed. So, it was all the more ironic when Marsha Ross was the one to die of a sudden, massive heart attack. It came while she was playing bridge with friends. Naturally, both husband Eldon and son Eldon were devastated. The senior Eldon handled the tragedy the way most males do, with an outward mask of stoicism and plenty of grief bottled up inside. The child, not having been fully indoctrinated in male ways, cried, and cried and cried some more. The tragedy might have brought father and son closer together; but sadly, it was only the beginning of an increased distance between them. It was the night after Marsha Ross had died. The 10-year-old tentatively wandered into the living room where his father sat sipping on a scotch. Although he was surrounded by luxuries, and the room commanded a panoramic view of the city below, these wonders were lost on him, as he privately nursed his grief. So it wasn't a surprise that the youngster had a little trouble gaining his father's attention. "Daddy? Daddy, can you hear me?" Finally, the senior Eldon snapped out of his trance. "Wh-What is it, son?" "I was wondering about what I'll wear to Mommy's funeral." "Why, you'll wear your black suit, of course." "Daddy....I was wondering if I could get a black dress. I'd like to go as Ellen." As much as he tried, the father couldn't suppress the sudden rage that gripped him. "Absolutely NOT!" he roared. "You will not make a spectacle of yourself at your own mother's funeral." "But, daddy--" "No buts, young man! We are through discussing this!" Eldon ran to Ellen's bedroom, where he hurriedly pulled off his boy clothes, climbed into his softest nightgown, leapt into bed, and cried himself to sleep. Meanwhile, his father set silently staring into the void and cursing himself for his temper. He shouldn't have acted like that with the boy, he knew. He was only a confused child; he couldn't understand how it would scandalize people if he were to show up dressed as a girl. Maybe it was time to do something to about this compulsion of his son's....it would only make life more difficult later on if it wasn't dealt with. "I think it's time for you to start spending less time as Ellen," he said when he sat his son down for a heart- to-heart talk a few days after Marsha Ross' funeral. The boy listened, mostly in silence, and nodded in agreement. But the senior Eldon grieved by spending even more time at his business, leaving his son alone, except for the household staff, and of course his fantasies. Ellen would don a pair of tights, one of his favorite green velvet dresses with a lace collar, slip into a pair of Mary Janes, and sit in front of his vanity, brushing his hair. Sometimes he would be happy, lost in the fantasy; other times, he would miss his mother more than ever, and his heartfelt sobs would echo through the otherwise empty residential wing of the house. Young Eldon wasn't surprised when his father began to date again about a year after his mother's death. But he was still taken aback on the night of his 12th birthday when he learned that he would soon have a stepmother. "You know Mrs. Pelf...I've really come to care for her deeply." Priscilla Pelf was a formidable woman in many ways. She was strikingly beautiful; not only had she been born to money, she had married into an even greater fortune. Jackson Pelf had given Priscilla everything she was aiming for; social status; two daughters; and a tidy inheritance when he died of cancer at the age of 39. Someone comparing Priscilla to Eldon's first wife might have said Priscilla was the more beautiful of the two; and in an objective sense, they might be right. Everything about Priscilla was perfect. Just...too perfect. Not a blonde hair out of place, not a flaw anywhere on her skin, not an ounce of extra fat. There was a strange coldness about her, almost as if she was more of an animated mannequin than a living woman. Priscilla's daughters, Rose and Tiffany, were much like their mother; they had an outer perfect beauty that masked an inner coldness. They had learned the family lessons too well; that the only things that mattered in the world, the only things that could be counted on, were money and status. At first, of course, the Pelf women had been supremely sweet to young Eldon; Priscilla had always called him a "handsome young man," and Rose and Tiffany had talked about how wonderful it would be to finally have a little brother. Rose was 15 and Tiffany was 13; all three children would be heading into their mid-teen years together. Eldon got his first indication that their blended family would not be a smooth one when father, son, and the Pelf women took a tour of the house. When they got to Ellen's bedroom, Priscilla raised an eyebrow and said, "What's this....I thought you didn't have a girl?" Eldon senior cleared his throat. There was an awkward silence. Finally he said, "This room...these things...they're Eldon's. He likes to pretend sometimes...." All the superficial warmth had drained from Priscilla's face; young Eldon saw an expression of frightening coldness. "Pretend what?" she asked. "Pretend that he's a girl." His father had barely been able to whisper the words. The girls didn't do a very good job of hiding their amusement; and that brought out a wrath in their mother that startled the older Eldon and put true fear into the younger one. "That's ENOUGH!" she hissed. "We will never speak of this again! Tiffany...this will be your bedroom, after we move in." "But daddy--" Eldon said. "No buts, son," he said, "It's time that you outgrew this. I agree with Priscilla. I don't ever want to hear about this again." "Yes--yes sir," he said, fighting back tears. The wedding was lavish as it could be. Rose and Tiffany were both lovely in their purple bridesmaid dresses; young Eldon, whose blonde hair was just beginning to darken a bit, looked very handsome and very uncomfortable in his black tuxedo. The senior Eldon wore a white tux; but the star of the event, by far, was the bride. Priscilla's dress had the longest train, it seemed, since Princess Di's. The ivory satin gown with a beaded bodice had cost more than a new car. The loss of his first wife and the urgings of his second had finally persuaded the senior Eldon to loosen his iron grip on the family business. Right after the reception, the newlyweds left for their honeymoon, a four-month cruise around the world. Eldon trusted his bride when she said the girls were responsible enough to look after themselves and their new stepbrother. The boy had resolved to keep to himself as much as possible, and do nothing to anger or provoke his new sisters; but this was to prove to be useless. His parents had only been gone a couple of days when the two girls came into Eldon's bedroom. He was stretched out on his bed, reading a comic book. Rose stood on one side of the bed, Tiffany on the other. Rose leaned forward; though she was just 15, she already had a well-developed bosom. Her position, and her low-cut top, gave Eldon a good look at her female charms. Tiffany assumed a similar pose, although the effect wasn't the same, since she was just beginning to develop. "Hello, little brother," Tiffany said. "Or should we say little sister," Rose chimed in. "We think it's mean of mother to make you stop dressing up like a girl, if that's what you want to do." "Really?" Eldon said with a sadly naive hopefulness. "Uh-huh," Tiffany said. "In fact, we insist on it." Rose had momentarily stepped out of the room; now, she came back in carrying a garment bag. She unzipped it to reveal a French maid's uniform in black satin. "We got this just for you," she said with an evil grin. "We're going to help you try it on." Almost before he knew what was happening, the girls had Eldon stripped down to his undershorts. Rose handed him a pair of lacy black panties. "Take those off," she said, pointing to his briefs, "and put these on. We'll turn around." "But--" he said weakly. "No buts!" Rose said loudly. "DO IT NOW!" The girls turned around and found Eldon wearing the high-cut panties. There were tears forming in his eyes. "What's the matter, dear brother?" Rose said in a voice dripping with false empathy. "We thought you loved dressing up as a girl. All we want to do is help you." "Yeah," Tiffany agreed. "And all you have to do is help us in return." "Oh...okay," Eldon said innocently. The two girls helped him into an a-cup black bra that matched the panties. They had small packets of birdseed that provided filler of just the right size and weight. Next, they introduced the boy to his first garter belt. They had sheer black stockings for him to wear; he managed to get them on without running them, much to his relief; but his hands were shaking so badly that he needed help to attach the garters to the tops of the stockings. Now, Rose reached for a shoebox she had carried into the room. Out came a pair of patent leather pumps with three-inch heels. "Put them on," she ordered, ignoring the boy's protests that he had never worn high heels before. "If you want to be a lady, you have to learn to walk in a lady's shoes, Ellen, dear," Tiffany said. They ordered the boy to walk; he stumbled pretty badly on the plush carpet. Tiffany looked at her big sister, "I think we should make her practice walking on them half an hour every day." Rose thought for a moment. "No, make it an hour a day." It was finally beginning to sink in to poor, sweet, innocent Eldon that they weren't doing this for his benefit. After the girls had tired of watching their brother totter around they called him over. "We might as well finish the outfit," Rose said with an air of boredom. The two sisters slipped a short, tight black dress over him; he noticed the attached white apron. It was a maid's uniform, just as they had said! "Come here," Rose said, grabbing her stepbrother roughly by his arm and dragging him toward her bedroom. Soon, she had forced him into the chair in front of her vanity. Soon, the two girls were using their brother's face as a canvas to express their most vivid makeup fantasies. He found a face staring back at him that was caked in foundation and powder. Everything was just...too much! Too much lipstick, too much rouge, too much eyeshadow...and two shades of it blended besides....Poor Eldon couldn't decide if he looked like a pre-teen hooker...or a clown. The girls finished off his outfit by placing a long blonde wig atop his head, and pinning the maid's cap to that. They had him stand and pose while Tiffany shot a series of photos. "Okay, Ellen dear, it's going to be like this," Rose said without a drop of compassion in her voice. "When you come home from school every day, you are to practice getting dressed, getting made up and walking. You will do all of these things until you can do them on your own." Ellen nodded. "And then what?" he said shyly. "Why then, dear sister, you will be our maid and personal servant. You will bring us snacks, you will do our homework for us, you will clean our rooms, Ellen....Ella.....You're just like Cinderella!" Rose said with a mocking laugh. "Or Cinder-fella," Tiffany said. Then the girls began a mocking sing-song chant, "Cinder-fella, Cinder- fella, Cinder-fella." They fell onto Rose's bed, dissolved in laughter. Tiffany spotted something out of the corner of her eye; it looked like Ellen was about the cry! "Don't cry, damn it," she snapped! "You don't want to ruin your makeup." It took all of Ellen's willpower to hold back the tears. He had wanted to dress as a girl--to be a girl--and to have sisters and a new mother. Now it had all happened....and it had turned cruelly, cruelly wrong. But somehow, in his heart, he told himself that he had to make the best of this. He would become a pretty girl, and a good maid; they could order him around, they could twist his wishes, but they could not, would not, break his spirit. Over the next several weeks, Ellen spent every day after school and all day on weekends preparing for his new role. He would walk around for an hour at a time in heels until his calf muscles were throbbing. Once he had mastered the three-inch heels, he had to learn all over again in four-inch ones...and then in five-inch stilettos. Rose and Tiffany were cruel, but not sadistic. Rather than give Ellen a case of shin splints, they let him rest periodically, his feet in a tub of warm water. Of course, that tub was placed beneath Rose's vanity, and he had to spend the whole time practicing applying his makeup. One mistake, and he would be ordered to wash it all off and start over again. Once he had mastered the arts of walking, dressing, and putting on makeup like a young lady, they put him through a course in some of the finer points of femininity, including body language and mannerisms. One day, after Eldon had come home from school and completed his dressing routine, he appeared for inspection by his sisters. They looked Ellen up and down carefully, and much to his surprise and pleasure, pronounced him ready to begin his new duties. If Ellen had feelings of relief, they were to be short-lived. It seemed that no matter how carefully he dusted, vacuumed and scrubbed in the girl's bedrooms, they would find a stray dust bunny under the bed or something....and punish him be sending him to bed without his supper. Of course, this had one benefit for the already-small child; he began to lose weight, and the slim black and white maid's outfit was soon fitting better than ever. On the cook's night off, Ellen was given the task of preparing supper; his first efforts usually wound up being tossed down the garbage disposal; they would end up ordering a meal delivered from one of the city's finer restaurants. But with persistence, he soon developed into a good cook. Of course, any good maid has to be able to handle the laundry, and Ellen soon found himself with all the washing, drying and ironing he could handle. He felt feelings of warmth as his bras and panties went into the machines along with his sisters'; but he couldn't help the pangs of envy that came as he ironed their beautiful outfits; so many fabrics, so many colors, so many styles; while he had nothing in the way of feminine apparel to wear anymore but his maid's uniform. The girls found new ways to make Ellen's life more difficult. During their parent's extended absence, Rose had taken up smoking. "Now look, Cinder-fella," she told Ellen squarely. "When my mother and your father get back, they better not be able to find one trace of smoke in my room or my clothes; if they do, there's going to be Hell to pay!" Shaken, Ellen nodded in agreement, but didn't say a thing. One day, as Ellen was getting into his maid's outfit, he realized that his parents were due back in a little over a week. Following instructions, he knocked before entering Rose's bedroom. She was sprawled on her bed, talking to a friend on the phone, and chain-smoking. As he made his way through the blue cloud, Ellen wondered how on Earth he would ever be able to rid the room of the lingering odor. "Um, Rose? Excuse me?" he said meekly. "Oh, hold on, Brad!" she said, sounding exasperated. "What is it, Cinderfella?" "Our folks are due back next week...and I was just wondering...." "Oh, s---!" she snapped. "You are right....." Into the phone, she said, "Brad, sweetie, I gotta go--call you later? Bye." The phone clicked shut, and Rose knocked on the wall, calling, "Sis! Get in here now!" Ellen was sent out of the room; while the two sisters conferred, Ellen waited in the hall; finally, he was called back in. "We obviously can't let them see you as Ellen," Rose said. "But I still think they're going to be traveling a lot. So you're off the hook when they're here...but when they're not, we've got our maid back. Understand?" Ellen nodded. Before too many more days had passed, the big front doors of the Ross house swung open, and Eldon III and Priscilla were back. Young Eldon came running up to his father and threw his arms around his legs, embracing him as if his life depended on him keeping a firm grip. "Oh, Daddy, I've missed you daddy," he said. Big Eldon smiled, but also seemed a bit discomforted at the intensity of his son's emotions. "Easy, little man!" he said with a slight chuckle. Meanwhile, Priscilla was greeting Rose and Tiffany with polite hugs, and young Eldon couldn't quite believe it....air kisses! (Later, Tiffany told them that their mother had started having them do that about six years earlier, in order to prevent her makeup from being smeared.) Over the next month, Ellen was able to dress about five times, when their parents were delayed by business, social or civic activities. All went well; Ellen was able to complete his duties and change back to Eldon's clothes with plenty of time to spare. The sixth time was a different story. The senior Eldon was gone on a three-day business trip, and Priscilla wasn't due back from a charity dinner until at least 9 p.m. So it was quite a shock to all three of the teens when they heard the front door open a little after seven. Ellen was serving dinner to each of the girls in their rooms, using silver trays; he had placed a single fresh rosebud in a vase on each tray. He had just finished serving Rose, who was putting out a cigarette, when the bedroom door swung open. "What the HELL is going on in here?" Priscilla screamed. She sent Ellen to his room with a stern, "I'll deal with you later, young man...I have to talk to my daughter first." Ellen went to his bedroom. He sat nervously on the edge of his bed for a couple of minutes? Should he change? Should he wait for his stepmother? His insides seemed to be churning...he thought he was going to be sick to his stomach. Soon, the door to his room swung open; Priscilla stood there with her two daughters; they were all smiling. Eldon's heart sank; he knew this wasn't a good sign. Priscilla advanced on Eldon. "Well, missy, I'm glad to see you haven't changed. I like the idea of having a personal maid, instead of just the household help....from here on, you'll be my maid, as well as the girls'. I want you to draw a hot bubblebath for me now, and help me get ready for bed. Oh, and you're probably wondering about Rose. Well, if she would have asked, I would have told her I had no objections to her smoking; I started when I was 15, after all. For lying, she's going to be grounded....for a day. Now get moving!!!" "Yes, ma'am," Ellen said meekly. It seemed like his nightmare was only getting worse. Now, only his father wasn't in on Ellen's continued existence. From time to time, the youngster thought of telling his father; but then he remember his father's increasingly stern disapproval of his crossdressing, and his stepmother's warnings not to speak up. Over the next five years, the three women took increasing advantage of poor Ellen. Whether it was lighting their cigarettes or cleaning the furnace, it seemed as if there was no job too demeaning, or too dirty, for Cinderfella. The senior Eldon quickly soured on the marriage, and began spending more and more time on business; which was very much to the liking of Priscilla and the girls. Ellen became increasingly melancholy in his dual, secret life. One of the saddest nights of the year for him was the annual "Winter Sunrise" dance at the Lakeside Country Club, where the Ross family held a membership. This was the traditional "coming of age" event for young men and women in the city's social elite. The year Rose turned 20, she was looking forward to her fourth "Sunrise"; it would be the third time that 18-year-old Tiffany had attended. For Eldon, who was now 17, he had never attended, and it seemed that he never would. After all, he had to put all his energy into getting his sisters ready; from pressing their petticoats and dresses to helping them with their hair and makeup. As he stood behind Rose, combing out her blonde bouffant, the girl smiled at her brother. "That's good, Ellen, very good. You might have a nice career ahead of you as a hairdresser...unless we keep you on as our maid." She began to laugh; a cruel laugh, and Ellen began to cry. "Oh, poor Cinderfella....bet you wish you were going to the sunrise dressed as beautifully as Tiffany and I are....well, too bad...the days of fairy godmothers are long gone!" Before long, limousines had arrived to whisk each girl and her date to the country club. About that time, Priscilla left as well, Ellen was alone in the house, with orders to clean out the refrigerator and mop the kitchen floor. As he walked into the kitchen, Ellen found a lovely woman, with long flowing jet-black hair, clad in several layers of colorful robes, waiting for him. "Who...who are you?" "Why don't you guess," she said, not unkindly. "Lets see....my Fairy Godmother?" She smiled and clapped her hands, and said, "You got it, ace!" "I thought the days of fairy godmothers were past?" She was chewing--and snapping--a big wad of gum. Ellen couldn't help but chuckle a bit. "You're laughing, girl, I like to see that! And yeah, generally, we don't get much work any more...but this case was just too classic....I HAD to swing into action." "So I get to go to the Winter Sunrise I suppose? I don't think I've got a pumpkin and mice that you can change into a coach and horses...and am I really going to have a midnight curfew?" Now it was the Fairy Godmother's turn to laugh. "Boy, you're full of questions, aren't you, honey! Well....for one thing, the coach and horses are passi, dear. You don't have a car of your own?" "Not yet....Priscilla doesn't think I need one yet." "Oh, she doesn't? Well.....you know that beat-up old pick up out in the garage?" She held up a set of keys. "Until you get home, it's a new Mustang convertible. Red." Ellen looked a little dumfounded. "You still don't believe me kid? Okay, time for the good stuff!" the Godmother said; Ellen suddenly noticed the woman held what looked like a magic wand in her hand. Nodding at the wand, the fairy laughed and said, "It's really just a prop for show; but everyone seems to expect it." She gestured, and Ellen's maid uniform disappeared, leaving him in just bra and panties. Then, another nod, and the really remarkable changes began. Eldon felt a warmth from head to toe; then a momentary flash of pain, as his bones seemed to liquefy. In a way, that's what was happening, as his skeletal structure had to be reshaped from male to female; the change was most pronounced, of course, in the pelvic area. All of this happening in just a matter of seconds, too quickly for the new Ellen to realize what was happening; but if she could had watched in slow motion, she would have realized the next step was the reshaping of the fat and muscles covering that new skeleton; some of the excess fat moved to her hips, buttocks and breasts; the rest just melted away. Miraculous changes were taking place inside of her, too. Her penis and testes had drawn up inside of her, leaving a new, female sexual cavity. The testes repositioned themselves and became ovaries; while the prostate gland served as the raw material for her new uterus. Most of her body hair vanished; the remainder became very fine. Her skin took on a new softness and radiance. Her Adam's apple vanished as her voice box changed. She wasn't aware of it, but the blonde wig atop her head had now become her own hair; and her facial features, already delicate for a male, were becoming even more refined and beautiful--larger eyes, a narrower nose, more prominent cheekbones, fuller lips. Her natural good looks were further enhanced by the appearance of makeup. Ellen had already had a soft, girlish voice; but now he spoke in a very sweet soprano. "Wow," she said quietly. "You're for real! This is just so......so unbelievably wonderful." "Well, beautiful, we need to get you outfitted properly...let's see," and with a flick of her wand, dark-toned hose appeared on Ellen's shapely legs; her feet were shod in a pair of clear pumps with three-inch heels. A large petticoat appeared around her waist; over that, she wore a dress with a full, billowing skirt of dark blue taffeta; the blue bodice was studded with sequins; her bra changed to a strapless model, as his dress was sleeveless and shoulderless. "Oh," Ellen gasped, "This is so gorgeous." "Yeah," the Fairy Godmother said, "Not bad if I do say so myself....you just need a few more finishing touches." one more flick of the wand, and Ellen was wearing elbow-length white kid gloves; a pearl necklace; diamond earrings; and a diamond tiara. She gasped, and asked, "How...how can I ever thank you?" "Just get going, lovely one, and have the time of your life....No midnight curfew, but you should be home by 2 a.m.; this spell will wear off then." Ellen gave her Fairy Godmother a big hug and raced to her Mustang. As she sped toward the country club, she asked herself if it was all a fabulous dream; she answered that it must be; but then told herself if that was the case, she hoped she never woke up. She pulled into the almost full-lot, wondering where she would find a parking space, when she spotted a gray-haired man in a club jacket! Of course! Valet parking! She happily turned the keys over to the old gentleman, who tipped his cap and held the driver's door open as she got out. It had been a mild day, but it was a cool evening, and Ellen was grateful that her Godmother had also provided her with an imitation mink jacket. She felt indescribably beautiful and elegant. Still she hesitated; "I don't belong in there," she told herself, "This isn't real." But then Ellen heard a voice in her head, "Oh yes it is, babe, and after all the trouble I went through, you're going to get your keister in there, and you're going to have fun." Ellen had to smile when she heard the voice of her tart-tongued Fairy Godmother. The talking-to had the desired effect; she picked up her skirt and began walking up the grand stone staircase leading to the club entrance. The great oak panels swung open; the doorman said, "Good evening, Miss," and soon Ellen was inside. She couldn't believe the number of attractive, beautifully dressed young men and women who were inside; some congregating at the bar, some on the outdoor patio, most on the dance floor. As she moved about--glided, might be the best word to describe the graceful way she moved through the great old clubhouse. As she looked around, she felt that all eyes were turning in her direction; and she was right; for in addition to her beautiful form and dress, there was something inescapably magic about her. Ellen had made her way out onto the patio; although the night was chilly, she had to admire the clear, starry sky. There weren't too many people out there; just a few of the more committed smokers. Ellen was staring off into the vast expanse, when she suddenly heard a familiar voice. "Ellen! Oh God, it is you! But how?" She turned to find Rose finishing off a cigarette and staring at her. "Dear stepsister," she said. "I'm here, and I'm really female...but don't ask me how...you'd never believe it even if I told you. Now, try to stay out of my way in there, please!" Rose stood shaking her head and muttering to herself. "Did I see what I just saw?" After a long pause, she said, "No. No way. I couldn't have." Then she went to tell her sister.... Inside, Ellen picked up a cup of punch, and was daintily sipping on it when she felt that someone was staring at her. She turned and discovered she was right. Although they had never met, she instantly recognized Chad Wentworth, son of the owner of the city's NFL team, and a college all-star quarterback. All the sports talk shows and magazines were abuzz with the question of whether Chad would play for his father's team the next year or not. All Chad would say was, "Hey, guys, I've still got another college season left." He seemed almost too good to be true; he was an academic, as well as an athletic, all-star. Ellen gazed up at the tall form; the muscular chest; the broad shoulders; the strong chin with a prominent cleft; the sparking blue eyes and wavy brown hair; and instantly fell in love. "Hi, there, I've been coming to this dance for six years now...but I can honestly say I've never seen anyone as beautiful as you." Ellen found herself blushing deeply. "Oh....don't you say that to all the girls?" she finally said shyly. "No, I've never said it before in my life! I swear on my dear Grandmother's grave!" Ellen thought that maybe his grandmother was still living; but something about Chad's manner told her that he was utterly sincere. "So what's your name?" "Ellen." "Ellen what?" Now she was a bit alarmed and momentarily stumped. If she said "Ellen Ross," then it would be easy for Chad to track her down...and discover that she was really a he. She thought for a moment, and for some reason, an image of Captain Kirk on the bridge of the U.S.S. Enterprise popped into her head. "Ellen Kirk," she said. "Well, Ellen Kirk, may I have the pleasure of this dance?" She smiled broadly, holding out a gloved hand. "Thank you Mr. Wentworth, I thought you'd never ask." As they swept across the dance floor, Ellen found herself enveloped by feelings of warmth and comfort she hadn't known since her mother was alive; but while reminiscent of those feelings, this was something richer, more mature, more all-encompassing. They danced and talked and laughed until almost 1:30 in the morning. Chad kept pressing Ellen for details of her life, and she kept being evasive. They kissed several times; each kiss sending a jot of warmth down Ellen's spine that she could only define as heavenly. Finally, she reluctantly broke his embrace and started to hurry toward her car. She got to the bottom of the stairs, and looked around frantically for the parking valet. The lot was almost empty. "Damn!" she said softly. She went running back up the stairs...no mean feat in her heels, and asked the doorman what had happened to the parking valet. "Oh, Mr. Simmons? He wasn't feeling well....went home about half an hour ago." "Then where are my keys!" Ellen cried. "Sammy, the night watchman should have them." "Well, where is he?" "Oh, I don't know....let me see..." He reached for a walkie-talkie on the counter. "Sammy?" It turned out he was in a far corner of the lot. "He should be just a few minutes." "Thanks," she said through gritted teeth. By this time, Chad was back by her side, "Ellen? You're not just going to take off on me like this are you? I thought we really had something special going." His voice was taking on a desperate tone. He grabbed her by the shoulders, though not roughly. "Come on, Ellen? I've never felt like this with anyone!" Tears were welling in her eyes. "Oh, Chad, I can't deny that I have feelings for you...but...you just have to accept me when I tell you it couldn't work!" The doorman stepped forward. "Is he bothering you, Miss? Do you need help?" At that point, Chad released his grip. "No," Ellen said. "I'm fine." The door swung open, and Sammy held out a set of keys. "You had the Mustang convertible, Miss?" "Yes," she said, quickly grabbing the keys and hurrying toward the door. "Thanks." She glanced at the wall clock. It was now quarter of 2...and with at least a 20 minute drive home..... Ellen ran down the stairs, losing one of her pumps as she went. She reached down, pulled off the other and held it in her hand, as she ran to the Mustang in her stocking feet. As she roared out of the lot, Chad stood on the stairs, holding the clear shoe. Traffic on the freeway was light at that hour, but Ellen knew that time was against her...she couldn't risk being stopped, so kept the Mustang just a few miles above the speed limit. But as the DJ on the car radio gave the station identification and the 2 a.m. news came on, she quietly said, "Oh no." A moment later, an old truck was rolling down the freeway. Ellen was behind the wheel; but it was Ellen, the disguised boy, not Ellen the belle of the ball. He made it back at about quarter after 2, and managed to sneak into the house unnoticed by his father and stepmother. When he approached his sister's rooms, he noticed they were both still awake; but strangely, neither of them approached him. Perhaps they had been too much in awe of the magic that had enveloped Ellen on this wonderful night. As he settled into bed that night, Ellen told himself, "Maybe it was all a dream...but what a beautiful one." The next day, Ellen resumed his traditional duties. It was as if there was an unspoken agreement among them not to speak of the night of the Sunrise. But something seemed to have changed; much of the sisters' cruelty seemed to have faded; Ellen thought it was almost as if they were just going through the motions. Still, Ellen thought that night would remain only a beautiful memory....until the night Chad Wentworth showed up. Neither parent was home, as fate would have it. Ellen was upstairs, cleaning Tiffany's bedroom, wondering how an 18-year-old girl could be such a slob....when he heard Chad's voice in the entry hall below. Ellen went to the balcony and listened. Chad was talking to his sisters; asking them if they had met Ellen that night, had talked to her, had seen her, knew *anything* about her. The tone of desperation in his voice was clear. When he heard Rose saying, "No, sorry, but.....I'm available, if you're interested, handsome," Ellen knew what he had to do. He quickly hurried down the stairs and presented himself. In the sweetest voice he could muster, he said, "Hello, Chad, I'm Ellen." Both sisters broke out in laughter. "Who do you think you're trying to kid?" Tiffany said. "This is our brother," Rose said in a voice dripping with contempt. Chad looked bewildered, but was carefully eyeing Ellen. "God, I think it is you....Is this some kind of sick joke?" Ellen hung his head. "No, I swear to God it was all real...that night anyway." Chad reached for a small canvas bag and pulled out Ellen's lost pump. "This is going to seem awfully corny....but the Ellen I was with that night lost this shoe. Why don't you try it on....I suppose if it fits, it doesn't prove anything...but if it doesn't, I can rule you out." Ellen nodded, and said, "Okay." He sat on a damask chair and kicked off one of his shoes while waiting for Chad to slip the pump onto his foot. He knew that it was hopeless, for his female foot had been at least two sizes smaller than his male one; but he took a deep breath, said a prayer.... ....and watched as it slid onto her foot perfectly! At that moment, Ellen was enveloped in a radiant glow, and instantly--and permanently--became female again. Without a word, the two lovers fell into each other's arms. The wedding came nine months later. Ellen, being charitable of heart, had asked both of her step-sisters to be bridesmaids. All the rest of the wedding was in such exquisite taste....much of the gossip at the reception centered on the bridesmaid's dresses. No one had ever seen quite so hideous a collection of bows, ribbons, bustles and laces; all in a rather sickening shade of bright pink. Well, I said she was forgiving. But she was also human! THE END