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The Bachelorette ? by: Alana The third date with five men and Trista didn't go quite how any of the men would react. The limo pulled up in front of a dress shop. Trista got out, grinning wickedly. The men followed. They all thought they were going to help Trista pick out something to wear. Once inside, they faced make-up girls, fashion consultants, production assistants, and salesgirls all of them staring at the men with mysterious smiles on their faces. "OK, boys," said Trista, "we are going to make you beautiful." The men laughed nervously and glanced at each other. Some of them started to realize that this group was made up of the five thinnest bachelors. "What do you mean?" ask Jamie. "OK, I'll tell you the truth, here. We are going to make you over into beautiful ladies. Now, anyone who thinks he can't handle this, anyone who's not secure enough, anyone who's scared to wear a dress because you think you might like it, you're free to leave now." It was clear that they were serious about this, and that the men were expected to be good sports and go along with it. So they did. There was no leg waxing, but they were spared nothing else. Make-up, pantyhose, lingerie, a wig, then they were fitted for high heels and helped into the dresses Trista had picked out for them. She laughed like a hyena when she saw them all come out in their pretty dresses. "Don't you look sweet," she said. "Well, let's head on back." The men tried not to show it, but they were panicked at the thought of the other men in the house seeing them this way. In the limo on the way back, Trista did her best to assure them that this was all in good fun, and in fact, it was only the guys she was really interested in that had to do this. Just as a little test, just to make sure they really wanted to be with her. She confided that anyone who would've said no would not have gotten a rose that night, and that all five of them were sure to get a rose. Trista introduced them to the other men by opening the front door and saying, "Gentlemen, I'd like to introduce you to five more brand new bachelorettes!" The five reluctant crossdressers came in, camping and hamming it up as much as possible to show that it was all in good fun, and they were just playing along with the joke. The other men all laughed and applauded. The five of them really thought that they'd be allowed to change once they got back, but no, it looked like they'd be wearing their dresses all throughout the rose ceremony. They stood around and made embarrassed small talk with the other men. Most of the men couldn't get through a complete conversation with them without laughing. The five of them were unused to high heels, and had to sit a great deal of the time. Then the rose ceremony began. As promised, Trista gave roses to the five reluctant crossdressers first, although she couldn't get through it without laughing. "Will you accept this rose?" she asked Russ. Russ was in a tight black sparkly cocktail dress. Russ answered in the affirmative. "OK, let me pin it to you dress," she said, and laughed. The ceremony ran came down to its end. Chris, the host, stepped up beside her and said, "Trista, this is the final rose." Trista thought to herself, "What would we do without you, Chris?" The final rose was given to Charlie, the one she had already decided on as her future husband. Then the men went up to their rooms, and discovered the worst surprise of all. All their clothes had been taken and replaced with dresses, lingerie, pantyhose and high heels. "What? NO!" said Jamie. It was then they found out that they were expected to continue to dress like women, right up to the moment when they left the show. But they were free to leave at the next rose ceremony. And the next day came the leg waxing. Not only legs but arms and chest as well. Their screams were heard throughout the house. The five men were pretty pissed off at having to dress like women, and the other guys had a great time making fun of them. The five reluctant crossdressers did their best to be good sports and pretend it was all just a big joke, but privately they were pretty damn mad. They all said they were leaving at the next rose ceremony. Security in the house prevented any of them from grabbing clothes from any of the other guys. The producers made it clear to Trista that the next dates that the 'girls' went on would have to be damn good if she expected them to hang around. The first individual date was with Russ. They were going to have an elegant meal together in a penthouse overlooking the city. The make-up people showed up early to give him a close shave and spend hours working on his lipstick and blush and eye make-up. They put him into panties, pantyhose, a bra and a white satin corset so tight he could hardly breathe, and then showed him the dress they expected him to wear. A glittering beaded white satin evening gown with long sleeves, so tight it fight him like a sausage casing. A wig, some jewelry, and three-inch white pumps completed his outfit. All throughout the process he tried to act like it was all just a big joke and he had no problem with any of this, but inwardly he was cursing Trista and swearing he would be out of the house at the next rose ceremony, rose or no rose. He smiled as he made his way to the limo to see Trista. She was wearing a black silk evening gown with a full skirt, and it didn't look anywhere near as uncomfortable as the frock he was wearing. He had to take tiny steps all the way to the limo. She smiled as he approached, and tried not to laugh at him. They greeted each other, and she allowed him to hold the door for her, even though he had a much more difficult time getting in the limo than she did. "You look nice," she said, remembering that she had to show him a real good time so he'd stay around for more humiliation. "Thanks, Trista, fun is fun, but why are you making us do this? Why do we have to dress like women?" "It's just for fun," she said. "Couldn't you let us go back to dressing like men?" "Oh, you don't want to do that. Besides, wearing pretty dresses can be fun. Give it a chance! I'm wearing an evening gown; why shouldn't you? No one will see you other than me and a few waiters." "The other guys have been making fun of us pretty badly." "Oh, I wouldn't worry about the other guys. They won't be around for long. I told you that it's only guys like you that I'm really interested in that I forced into dresses and pantyhose?" "But why?" "Why? I'll show you why. Lift your skirt. Go on." He pulled up his tight evening gown. Trista told him to pull it up farther, and he did. "Look at those pretty legs! Beautiful legs like those, going to waste in pants." He dropped his skirt, and scowled. "Oh, come on!" she teased. She tried to tickle him a little in his beaded gown. He smiled a little. "Do you think I want a guy who takes himself so seriously he has to be macho all the time? Lighten up and have some fun! You're wearing a beautiful gown and you look so cute and pretty!" "You wouldn't ask me to dress like a woman if we got married, would you?" "I might. But you'd be free to say no. But you can't say no now, because I'm in charge, remember? And this doesn't affect our date, really. We're still a man and a woman on a date, even though we're both wearing evening gowns and pantyhose and high heels and lipstick. They're just clothes." So Russ started to relax, and to ask Trista about her life and her parents and her past, just like he would on any other date. When they got to the luxury hotel, they managed to get all the way up to the penthouse without too many people seeing them. The waiters smirked when they saw Russ in his gown, but they did their best to treat them like any other couple, except that they helped them both with their chairs. They ate on the terrace. They took their orders, and as they were waiting for the food, Trista said, "So, I haven't had a chance to ask you much about yourself." "Go ahead. Ask me anything." "OK. When did you decide that you wanted to be a woman?" she said, and laughed. Russ tried to laugh too, but he mostly just looked like he had a sick look on his face. "Just kidding. I know I'm making you wear a dress, but no kidding, you really should dress like a woman more often. You look really pretty. We could double date together." "I thought you said this was just like any other date." "You're right. I'm sorry." She went on to ask him about his likes and dislikes, doing her best not to laugh and to forget that he was dressed as a woman. The food came, and they continued to talk all through dinner. Russ scowled at the fact that his lipstick was coming off on the wineglass, but Trista didn't comment on it. When the dinner was over, someone inside the penthouse turned on some romantic music. Trista stood up and asked Russ to dance. Trista let him lead. In the middle of their dance, Trista reached up and grabbed Russ by the neck and started kissing him. Then she let him take over the kissing. Russ leaned in and became more aggressive, though it was hard to get close to her, what with her real breasts coming right up against the fake breasts in his bra. At one point, as they paused for a breath, Trista said, "See? Just like any other date." When he got back to the house, most of the guys who got to wear pants just ignored him. Most of them were more embarrassed about his forced crossdressing than he was, and they didn't know what to make of the fact that the "girls" were getting most of the individual dates. Russ slipped out of his heels as soon as he got to the indoor carpeting, and went up to his bedroom to take off his gown. He had to hike up his skirt a little to ascend the stairs. When he got back to his room, his roommate Jamie was lying on his bed in a tight leather skirt and a lustrous white silk blouse with ruffles on the sleeves and cascading ruffles down the front. Slightly dark pantyhose and black patent leather pumps completed the outfit. His face was beautifully made-up, and the blonde wig they gave him was the same color as his hair. He was lying on his side, reading a magazine, his legs more or less entwined. "How'd it go?" asked Jamie. "That is one crazy chick," he said. "The more you look like a woman, the more she seems to like it. She must be a little bit bisexual. Unzip me, will you please, I've got to get out of this gown. The corset is cutting me in half." "Oh, boo hoo. Take a look at the dress she's picked out for me tomorrow." Jamie pulled his dress from his closet. It was a pink satin and chiffon dress with ruffles and lace at the neck and sleeves, a sash meant to be tied in a bow at the back, a faux overskirt in a pink and white floral pattern, and a full chiffon skirt with sewn-in petticoats trimmed in white eyelet lace. "Yikes. Even a woman would look ridiculous in that. Have you tried it on?" "Only for them to alter it." "Try it on. Let me see you in it." "You'll see me in it tomorrow." Russ converged on Jamie, and said, "Come on, try it on. Take off your blouse." In a teasing way, he started to unbutton a few of the buttons of Jamie's blouse. "Cut it out!" said Jamie, buttoning himself back up. When he saw how much it bugged Jamie, Russ couldn't help but keep unbuttoning his blouse and pulling it out of his skirt. "Cut it out! I'm not gonna unzip you if you don't stop! What if the guys come in and see you taking my clothes off!" That was enough to make Russ stop. "OK, just kidding. Unzip me," he said, turning his back to Jamie. Jamie unzipped him, and Russ wriggled out of his corset while Jamie unzipped his black leather skirt to tuck his blouse back in. "What are you going to wear the rest of the night?" asked Jamie. "Something comfortable." "Yeah, good luck with that." "No, this isn't too bad," he said, reaching into his closet and finding a pink cashmere sweater dress. He managed to pull it over his head without his wig coming off. He caught sight of himself in the mirror. "What are we doing?" he asked. "What do you mean?" "What do I mean? I'm in a pink dress and you're in a skirt and a blouse! Why is she doing this to us? This is going to be on national TV," he said, pointing to the camera mounted into the wall. "I'll never live this down. All my friends will make fun of me for the rest of my life. What woman could possibly be worth all this?" "We signed a contract. We can't leave until the next 'rose' ceremony. And security won't let us leave, and they won't let us borrow any pants from any of the guys. I checked." Russ sat down on his bed with his knees wide open and let his hands fall between his legs, which caused his dress to ride up. "Great! So we're stuck like this! Wearing pantyhose and high heels and lingerie until she says otherwise." "Yeah." "How can you be so calm about it?" "Unlike you, I really would do anything to be with Trista." "Yeah, sure. I'll bet you like wearing dresses. I'll bet your closet at home is full of dresses. You've even got a girl's name." "Shut up! And don't you ever try to strip me again!" "Yeah? Or what? What are you gonna do?" He grabbed Jamie's blouse and ripped it down the front, exposing his slip. "That's it," said Jamie, and jumped on Russ, knocking him down. They rolled around on the floor trying to strangle each other, their nylon- clad legs entangled. Russ grabbed one of Jamie's brastraps and yanked it, and felt it snap. Jamie grabbed his opponent's head and started pounding it against the floor. "Catfight! Catfight!" They looked up and saw some of the guys gathered at the doorway, laughing at them. They looked at each other. Some of their lipstick had gotten on each other's clothes. They got up and tried to straighten their clothes with as much dignity as possible under the circumstances. Jamie had to hold one of his falsies in place against his chest. Security came into the room and removed Russ, and told him they were putting him in another room. "We'll make sure to go back and get all your pretty dresses for you," said one of the security guards, laughing. Russ didn't react. "You'd better put on another bra," said another guard to Jamie. "OK guys, break it up, nothing to see here. Two of the girls got in a little fight. Someone got caught stealing accessories or panties or something." Ryan pushed his way past the guys in the hallway and into the room, Saying, "Excuse me." He was wearing a purple silk dress with a tight skirt, white collar and cuffs, long sleeves, and a black patent leather belt that matched his high heels. Some of the guys intentionally made it harder for him to squeeze through, rubbing up against his dress. He told Jamie that they were apparently going to be roommates, now. He waited until the guys had cleared out, then sat on the edge of the bed and crossed his legs. "You can't let this get to you. Trista is only doing this to test us. Remember, she said that we're her favorites. That's why she's doing this. When she finds out what happened with Russ, I bet he doesn't get a rose." "Yeah. Listen, I know it's early, but I want to turn in for the night. I have to get up early tomorrow to get my make-up done." "Is that the dress you're wearing?" asked Ryan, pointing to the pretty dress on the floor. "Yeah. You'll see me in it tomorrow," he said, and hung it back up. He took off his black leather skirt and let it drop to the floor, and took off what was left of his blouse. Ryan looked away, out of modesty. Jamie wriggled out of his slip, and flipped his one unbroken bra strap off his shoulder. He got out of his bra the way the ladies at the dress shop showed him, yanking it around until he could reach the part that unfastened. He didn't realize at the time that he'd need to know this technique for quite as long as he would. "Why don't they just make bras that fasten in the front?" Jamie wondered. Ryan made an unintelligible response, since he was still averting his eyes. Jamie grabbed a bra out of his lingerie drawer and put it on, and put the falsies in it. The rules were that the five "girls" had to wear at least bra and panties to bed under their nightgowns, but most of them kept their pantyhose on because it was chilly at night and the nightgowns were sheer. Jamie got into a nightgown and went to bed, and Ryan excused himself, turning off the light on his way out at Jamie's request. Security, despite what the guard said, never bothered to move any of Russ's dresses, or Ryan's. They only bothered to move their high heels. Ryan and Russ were the same dress size, so it was thought to be too much trouble. The next day Jamie got ready for his picnic date with Trista. He was up early to get a close shave, and the make-up people took three hours to make him look pretty for Trista. He struggled into his lingerie and pantyhose, calling for help with the corset. Then they helped him into his dress and high heels and wig. His dress was too short to cover his knees. Once he was in his dress and it was all zipped up and tied, Jamie looked at himself in the mirror. He had a sick feeling. But he kept telling himself, "Come on, it's just a bit of fun. Just a joke. You can take a joke can't you?" But still, he knew that the guys were all waiting outside to see him in this ridiculous dress. He stayed inside the room as long as he could, until someone from the show came in and told him Trista was waiting in the foyer. He left the room. He tried to smile at the hooting and the catcalls and the whistles and the applause, trying to be a good sport, but still he kept feeling sick inside. He grabbed the railing and descended the stairs as best he could in his three-inch heels, going slowly because he couldn't see his feet with all his petticoats. Finally he got to Trista. And Trista laughed at him, like he was the funniest thing she'd ever seen. Jamie couldn't have known that Trista wasn't even planning to let him into the final four, so she was ready to laugh and enjoy herself on this date. She was wearing a coat, a warm blouse, and jeans. Jeans! "Don't you look sweet!" she said. "Ready to go, Jane?" Jamie waited until they were outside to say, "Trista, why aren't you wearing a dress?" "It's too cold today to wear a dress." "Then why am I wearing one?" "Because I told you to. Besides, you're a lot tougher than I am, aren't you?" She held the limo door for him, and he got inside, sweeping his voluminous skirts in with him. "You look so pretty," she said. "Thank you. So do you." "Oh, I don't look half as lovely and feminine as you do. So how do you like wearing pretty dresses?" "I don't." "Oh sure you do! You love it! No one could look as good in a dress as you do without loving it. You should wear dresses all the time, with your figure. You were born to wear them. Are you wearing a corset?" She lifted his skirts and petticoat up for a peek, and he pushed them back down." "Stop it!" "Oh, the lady is modest." "I'm not a lady." "Then why do you wear pretty dresses all the time, Jane?" "Because you made me. And my name isn't Jane!" "You're in a pink satin dress, pantyhose, high heels, and you're wearing lipstick. What do you want me to call you? Butch?" "Why did you make me dress like a woman? Just to make fun of me?" "Hey, I'm in charge now, and if I say you have to wear dresses and pantyhose and high heels to be with me, then that's what you have to wear. You think I had any choice in the dresses I wore when I was on 'The Bachelor'?" They reached the picnic grounds, and Trista jumped out and ran around to open the door for Jamie, but Jamie got the door open first. He tried to get out, but his skirts gave him so much trouble that it seemed that half of his dress was left in the car. He got his feet to the ground and adjusted his dress. Trista laughed. She had the picnic basket. "Shall we?" she said, and offered Jamie her arm. Jamie took it, and sulked as they walked down to where the blanket was spread out for them under a tree. "Aw, what's wrong? Is little Jane mad?" "Be quiet. I thought this was just some innocent fun, but you're being really mean." The wind started to whip up his skirts. Trista laughed as he did his best to hold them down. They sat down together, Jamie leaning against the tree. Trista started unpacking the picnic basket. "I wish there was some way to show you boys how lucky you are that you get to wear a dress," she said. Jamie said nothing. After they were done eating, Jamie sat back against the tree and shivered. "Cold?" asked Trista. She took off her coat and draped it around his shoulders, but he shrugged it off. "Let's just go back," he said. After Trista had her dates with the other reluctant crossdressers, eventually the choices got down to the final four. It was three of the boys in drag, and Charlie, the one she had really wanted from the very beginning. As Jamie left, he said to Trista, "I can't believe you're sending me away, after you made me dress like a woman for a whole week." "Well, it's not a total loss. You get to keep the dresses." Russ asked her why Charlie wasn't required to be in drag, like them. She had her lie all ready. "Well," she said, lowering her voices as the cameras zoomed in closer, "don't tell anyone, but you see--- Charlie is a transvestite. He's been addicted to wearing dresses for a long time now, and he's just recently been able to stop it. When I ask you boys to wear dresses it's all just innocent fun, but asking him to wear a dress would be like giving a drink to an alcoholic. See?" Russ at least pretended to accept it, though he didn't like it one bit. When Russ when home to visit his parents with Trista, he was scared to death of what his father the football coach would say. As soon as they came in the front door, his father looked him up and down and said, "Come into your bedroom with me, son. I want to talk to you." Russ followed his fathers, accompanied by cameramen and security men. At least his father couldn't do anything violent with security men around. Russ was wearing a short, tight-fitting black dress with contrasting white collar, cuffs, and piping about the bodice. It was so shear you could see his slip. Trista, of course, was in slacks and a sweater. "They told me you'd be dressed like this but I couldn't believe it. Son, what the hell are you doing?" He shrugged, and a bra strap fell. He thought he'd wait until later to fix it. "They made me do this. I signed a contract saying I'd go along with anything Trista wanted me to do. If I don't I have to pay them a lot of money. Besides, she makes all the guys she's interested in do this. It's kind of a little test, to make sure that I really want to be with her." "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. No woman is worth all this." "Dad, we're near the end! I could be the one she winds up with!" "And then what? She's gonna make you dress like a girl for the rest of your life. She'll have you in dresses forever." "She wouldn't do that to me." "Look, son, there's your old clothes in the closet. Take off that dress and put on some real clothes! You've got to tell her you're not going to wear dresses any more! You've got to tell her you're going to be a man!" The security men edged forward to intervene, if necessary. "I am a man!" said Russ. "A man does whatever is necessary. That's what you said." "OK, you're right, son. You are a man. And that's a very lovely dress." In the next room, Russ's mother said to Trista, "Don't you think it's time you stopped all this nonsense? It's time you let my son wear pants, again." "But he looks so cute in a dress! He has lovely legs." "Come on, Trista, enough is enough." "Don't tell me you don't enjoy this idea, just a little. A woman in charge for a change? A woman wearing the pants, and making the men wear the pantyhose and the lipstick? And the high heels?" "Not when it's my son," said Russ's mother. "Oh come on, this time he's spent wearing pretty dresses could only help him be a better person. I'll bet he'll never again complain about a woman taking too long to get dressed." Russ's father came back in accompanied by his son. "If you want to have dinner with THAT," he said, pointing at Russ, "be my guest. I'm not having anything to do with any of this." He stormed out of the house. Russ, his mother, and Trista had an uneventful dinner together. When they got it down to two reluctant crossdressers and one Charlie, Russ was eliminated from the final three. Trista accompanied him outside. He was wearing a maroon silk dress and black high heels. He got all the way to the limo, his heels clicking on the pavement, then suddenly turned around, his full skirt twirling with him. He almost lost his balance on his heels, but made it all the way back to Trista. "I was just wondering," he said, "Why?" "Why?" asked Trista, and laughed. "Well, I thought it would be obvious, but the reason I didn't pick you to be my husband is because you're wearing a dress, for cryin' out loud! Did you actually think I would spend the rest of my life with a man who would wear dresses for two weeks? Did you actually think I would make you dress like a woman if I was really interested in you as anything but a big Barbie doll I could dress up and play with?" Russ was speechless. Finally he gathered his wits enough to say, "But this is what you wanted! You never gave us any choice!" "You had plenty of choice. You could've swished away at any of the rose ceremonies." "But you kept saying?" "I know, that I made the ones I really like dress like women for two weeks. I can't believe you bought it. Look, you've been led on, you been forced into uncomfortable dresses and high heels and made to go on all sorts of humiliating dates on national television, all the time thinking you had a chance at marriage, and it's the same sort of thing you enjoyed watching when I had to do it on 'The Bachelor'. So how does it feel?" Trista waited in vain for Russ's answer, but it wasn't forthcoming. Russ was too shocked. "Look," said Trista, "At least you don't have to wear pantyhose any more. Or high heels. Or a bra." She reached out and playfully snapped his brastrap, then turned around and headed back inside. When it finally came time for Trista to make her decision, Ryan walked into one of the vacant bedrooms to see what Trista had picked for him to wear. He got very excited when he saw what it was. "A wedding gown!" he said aloud. He knew, or thought he knew, that he was a lock. This was Trista's way of letting him know that she planned on proposing to him. Ryan slipped out of the white linen dress he was wearing, and the dressers and make-up people helped him into his beautiful gown of silk, satin, and organza, and all his petticoats. They helped him with his make-up and wig, and put the veil on top of his head. Then they helped him out to the pedestal to wait for Trista. It was October, and he was really cold in his wedding gown. The wind was really whipping up, and he was in an exposed location. He was warm below his waist with all his petticoats, but the bodice and sleeves offered no protection from the wind. He saw Trista heading his way, and smiled. She was wearing a beautiful sparkly white lace gown. She saw him, and laughed. She laughed all the way up the path to the pedestal. "Man, you guys will wear anything, won't you?" she said, still cracking up. Ryan just stood there shivering, trying to find a place to hide his hands from the wind. "Oh, are you cold, poor girl? You know, I've always wanted to do this to a man every since I saw it on 'Bachelorettes in Alaska.' Put a man in a wedding gown and have him stand out in the freezing cold, waiting to be proposed to." "Will you please just get on with what you've come here to say, Trista," he said, trying not to lose his temper. "Oh, OK. What I've got to say is, it's been a lot of fun dressing you boys up in pretty dresses and gowns, but if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go get Charlie to propose to me. You remember Charlie? A real man. A man who actually wears pants?" Ryan was speechless as he watched Trista head back down the path. Well, at least he got to watch her having a hard time walking down there in her tight gown and heels. The outfit she was wearing for Charlie. Ryan was frozen to the spot, unable to move, thinking of all he'd gone through for her, all the make-up he'd worn, all the pantyhose and lingerie he'd forced himself into, all the pretty dresses and gowns he'd had to wear. He'd been wearing high heels for so long, it was getting so it was almost painful NOT to wear them. And all because he thought she wanted it. And here she'd just been playing with him. The cameraman just kept recording his misery and humiliation. Finally a production assistant came up and told him that they had some of his clothes waiting for him inside. "Dresses?" he asked. It was getting so he couldn't remember when he didn't wear a dress. "No, your old clothes. Pants." "Oh," he said, and followed him back down the hill. THE END "You had plenty of choice. You could've