Andy
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Andy by Transbonder, translated by Leah from the German
FIVE
Svenja could barely wait until the things we ordered arrived. I looked
forward to my breast forms more than anything else. With them I could now
leave a button on my blouses undone like all the girls did.
There was something I had done increasingly in the last several days:
Observe other girls. Above all, what they were wearing. But also how they
managed certain situations in a skirt or with long, loose hair. More than
once my watching was noticed, and I got a glance of displeasure. Or even a
surprised one if I was eyeing a less attractive girl.
It would definitely take a long time until I could do a lot of things with
grace and self-confidence. I did have an advantage in just one area: in
make-up. Many girls start out with the theory that more helps more, and
normally that doesn't look very good. I could offer a course, I smirked to
myself.
And one thing I guaranteed did not want to learn was the bitchy, affected
mannerisms. In this Svenja and Biene were ideal examples of their gender.
Why hadn't I thought of that before? I answered the question myself:
Because I had held beautiful appearance and sexy clothing to be the
pinnacle. Nothing else had registered. Now everything was reversed.
Since I hadn't gotten much money yet, I regarded these experiences as my
biggest plus. Without babysitting I would never have learned that.
##
Of all our orders, the breast forms arrived first. Svenja laid the package
in the garden house. Carefully I unwrapped it. Just simply breasts. I had
no experience in evaluating how genuine they looked - except for magazines
- but these looked startlingly genuine. Even the aureoles and nipples were
reproduced. You could see by the gleam that they were artificial. But in a
bra or teddy no one would see them.
Expectantly I drew on the teddy, which Biene had given me today. Wow, now
that was sexy! My others were totally plain in comparison. I put the one
breast in the cup, then the other. I had no mirror, but in looking down
things looked very convincing. That looked highly realistic - and
unbelievably sexy.
The skirt that Svenja laid out was just right for me. It was the shortest
yet. That doesn't exactly mean it wasn't still moderate. In school several
girls wore even shorter ones, but to me that just looked pretty vulgar.
This one here was just right, made of light-colored rough wool material
with a hint of pleats in the bottom third. In spite of the coarse
material, its overall effect was anything but unattractive, but rather
elegant. And it emphasized my legs, which were clad in a silky shimmering
sheer pantyhose.
And there was a blouse and a thin pullover with a deep cut neckline.
Voila! The university student. The ballerina flats went with that, but for
the first time I wished I had a pair of sexy pumps. I already knew where
these thoughts would end. My poor money.
##
When Mrs. Weber saw me, she was amazed. "Wow, Andrea. What's up, you look
so sexy. Do you have a date with your boyfriend?"
It had been a long time since I had blushed, I was overdue. In order to
make up for the long period without blushing, I reddened especially
brightly. I felt how my face glowed.
"Eh, eh..." So much for the first part of my response. After that it got
better: "I, eh - I." See? Those were two different words. An improvement
of 100%, that's quite respectable.
"I have no boyfriend." Well OK, I got it out.
"That means the male gender hasn't been paying attention. I cannot imagine
that your situation will stay that way for very long."
Huh, what? I and a boyfriend? I sure don't need that!!!!!
I didn't feel very feminine at this moment, but I would have undoubtedly
been shocked if I had seen myself. A sexy girl, fairly attractive with her
long legs and a sweetly reddened face, her glance shyly tipped downward
showing the long black eyelashes which were emphasized with just the right
amount of mascara.
Mrs. Weber was surprised at my reaction. She had never seen me act this
shy before. But she quickly developed the suspicion that things were the
exact opposite. Where there's smoke, there's often fire.
Has she stuffed her bra? She appears bigger today.
She looked more closely. No, as far as she could tell under her blouse
there was just black lace on her breasts. She already manipulates her
clothing like a grown women, she thought. You can just recognize a tiny
bit without actually seeing something. Subtle. And she acts so innocent.
##
When Mrs. Weber had gone, Mark came over to me. He caressed my thigh and
seemed to appreciate the way the pantyhose felt. His hand didn't go beyond
the hem of my skirt and then caressed along it.
I didn't know what I should do. At his age didn't boys normally consider
girls to be stupid? And their clothing, too?
Cautiously I stood up. When I saw him next to me, I realized for the first
time how short my skirt was. If I wasn't careful, Mark could look under.
Not a very agreeable thought, if he were to see a highly out-of-place lump
there.
I needed to divert his attention. "And, what shall we make for supper
tonight?"
"Something with a lot of garlic!"
I had to grin. What had happened to French fries and fish sticks?
Obviously that they had lost out to garlic.
"Hmm, would you like something hot?"
"Sure, why not? Then we can have ice cream afterwards."
What a good for nothing! It wasn't so much that he liked hot things, but
the ice cream later.
"OK, then I have a suggestion. Spaghetti Arrabiata. That's a little hot
and has a lot of garlic."
"Great. I'll get the garlic ready." As a matter of course, he got the
garlic and a knife.
"Mark, you've got to understand one thing: You can only use the knife when
I'm with you."
"Sure."
"Promise?"
"Okie, dokie."
That was the same thing as a sworn oath.
##
Next day Biene greeted me with, "Man, you stink like garlic!"
Oops, had that been a bit overmuch? Hopefully Mrs. Weber didn't get upset.
"What are you doing over the weekend?" she asked me next.
"No idea. Saturday I have to cook for my mom."
"Why?"
"Mom doesn't believe that I can cook. Because I've just started to do it."
"You cook?"
"Yes, every day at Mrs. Weber's."
"And how come I didn't get any when I was there?"
"I guess, you should have hung around a little longer."
"Can I come on Saturday?"
"I'll have to ask Mom."
"What do you have to ask?" queried Svenja, who came up to us just then.
I rolled my eyeballs. "Have Biene tell you. I gotta go."
##
The whole time I was planning what I should cook. Biene and Svenja would
come. I had to save face, because they would razz me without mercy
otherwise.
Should I cook something I'd already made? It wasn't that much yet. And I
wasn't all that sure that my success couldn't be laid at the door of
beginner's luck.
I walked through the supermarket trying to get inspired by something. But
what usually worked so easily for me brought no success this time. Did it
all depend on the fact that I'd been wearing a skirt? I nearly believed
that it did.
Unconsciously I stopped in front of the cosmetics. Hmm, this nail polish
almost had the same color as one of my tights. In a flash I picked up the
little bottle and took it to the cash register. I had barely paid and my
inspiration seemed to be present again. Goulash. I'd not eaten a really
good goulash in ages. And this time it would be hot enough, and with a
sufficient supply of garlic. I smirked at the thought. My apartment would
be a guaranteed vampire-free zone. And Biene and Svenja would be very
lonely girls on Sunday.
Oh well, having enough room on the bus is not so bad.
##
On Friday I was disappointed in not going to Mrs. Weber's. My boots had
arrived, and I couldn't try them out!
I could now understand girls when they wanted to dress in something neat.
They got really serious about it. I had spent so much money for them, and
now I couldn't give them a trial run. Frustration.
Later I lay on my bed and listened to Music. While I relaxed, I reflected
some more. I could scarcely wait to try on a pair of feminine boots with
heels. Was something wrong with me? That surely wasn't normal!!?!?
Had babysitting in girl's clothing changed me so much? Just a week or so
ago I would never have come up with these thoughts. I would have made a
giant detour around lace and frills. And now...
I liked how I looked in girl clothes. But I also liked being a boy. How do
those fit together?
I had always liked a sexy outfit. On Biene for example. Now I liked it,
too, when I tried it on as well. Was I a transvestite now? And what
exactly was that anyway? Apparently only men became transvestites. Why?
Didn't women want to?
No, women could simply dress in anything they wanted to. A skirt, a pair
of pants or just anything, no problem. Everything was acceptable. But as a
boy I wasn't permitted to wear a skirt. No, not quite right, I thought. No
one was allowed to know of it. Either that I was a boy or that I wore
skirts...
##
Saturday, shortly before noon. I still lay in bed. This was clearly better
than a Monday. Couldn't Mondays be made into Saturdays?
I walked into the kitchen in my pajamas.
"Morning," I greeted Mom.
"Good morning. Already had enough sleep?" she said mockingly.
"Just right. That was playing catch-up. Is there anything for breakfast?"
"Look at the clock. It's reached noon. Make a yourself a cocoa, and in a
half hour we'll have lunch."
"That'll work."
As I slurped my hot cocoa, Mom said, "I hope you have gotten everything
you'll need for cooking. I've already been shopping and wouldn't really
like to do it again, since it'll be packed with people now."
"No problem, Mom. I think I have everything. Is anyone coming other than
Biene and Svenja?"
"Yes, my friend. I told her that you allegedly learned to cook overnight.
She doesn't believe it."
"Well OK, tomorrow she'll believe it."
Mom looked at me perplexed. But I said nothing; Pretty soon she would
notice the larger quantity of garlic. I could do nothing other than grin a
little.
"What is so funny?" Mom was suspicious. "You're not going to play some
kind of joke with the meal?"
Oops, I'd have to watch out. Almost gave myself away. "No, Mom. Just a
normal goulash, without tricks." And goulash requires a lot of garlic.
"Good. I can't really imagine you're wanting to annoy your two
girlfriends." She looked at me so strangely, what was it with her? "You
complained so much about the scratchy pullover that I bought you
something."
I looked at her expectantly.
"I suspect it has something to do with puberty that your skin feels more
sensitive."
Puberty. That was a delicate subject. Somehow it kept plaguing me off and
on. For example the break in my voice. It began, and then stopped again
before it really was in place. My voice was somewhat deeper, but not so
much as with the other fellows, who had brought their puberty to
completion already.
Naturally I had to go to the doctor. He thought everything was completely
normal. The changes of puberty didn't come according to some schedule. As
far as my development was concerned, I was completely in the normal range.
There were boys who underwent change of voice only years later. Things
would come along.
Naturally I wished for the attributes of becoming a man such a beard
growth as soon as possible. At any rate up until last week. Now it was not
so bad, that there wasn't so much on my chin.
It was clear to me that I couldn't plan for my job very far into the
future. A further advance of puberty could quickly make it impossible to
be able to appear as a girl. I now hoped in the reverse of what I had so
recently wished. I had just spent a lot of money. For girl clothing.
Mom interrupted my thoughts. "Are you listening to me at all?"
"Of course," I hastened to say. Sometimes I could lie without turning red.
"Like I said, try on the things I bought you. You can at least wear them
at home."
Ha, what had I missed? I drank the rest of my cocoa and took the bag Mom
gave me up to my room. There I shook the contents on my bed.
A kind of jogging suit, underwear and socks. At first glace everything
looked normal. I picked up the underwear. Hmm. That was really soft. I'd
never had anything like that before. I pulled the undershorts on. No slit.
That wasn't so unusual; a number of my shorts didn't have one. But these
shorts looked more like a bikini bottom for Biene. Although there was no
little bow or anything like that, it was clear to me that these were
girls' panties. And the undershirt was for sure not for boys. There was
nothing at first glance that proclaimed this was feminine, no lace, no
spaghetti straps or anything like that. It was the overall impression.
Absolutely never to be worn in the boy's dressing room.
But it fit me, and it felt really good. What the hey, I thought to myself,
no one sees underwear anyhow. And if Mom knew what I had been wearing....
The socks were of cotton, that was obvious. Said so on the packaging. But
such fine cloth I'd never had. And they were kneesocks, while I usually
just wore socks. They would look great with one of my skirts, I thought.
The jogging suit was unremarkable at first glance. When I had it on,
however, it looked very similar to Mrs. Weber's. The material was a bit
like velvet and it had a shine to it. Not that noticeable, but certainly
not the normal jogging suit. I liked it. But what made Mom buy me these
things? This was clearly girls' clothing.
I'd soon get to the bottom of this, I thought, as I went back to Mom.
"And, do you like it?" she asked anxiously.
"Yes, Mom. It's wonderfully soft, it feels just great. Thanks a lot."
She just sighed, as though something disagreeable had now been confirmed.
That brought me to a useful train of thought. First the pullovers, and now
these things -- Mom wanted to see how I reacted to them. I should probably
have declined them.
Doesn't matter, I thought to myself. Wait a bit and drink some tea. At any
rate these things weren't at first glance recognizable as girls' clothing.
I would have to think hard, if she were to come up with something clearly
feminine. But I didn't actually think that that would happen. Why should
she?
##
Then Biene and Svenja came over in the afternoon, and first of all we went
to my room.
"How are your ears?" Biene asked.
I put my hands up to my earlobes. "I haven't thought about them at all
today. Appear to be healing well."
"Great."
"The rest of your things came today," Svenja interjected. "Should I have
brought them over?"
I threw her a dark glance till I noticed that she was pulling my leg.
"Twit!"
"Uh, uh, that isn't ladylike, Andrea."
"Stop calling me that here. If Mom hears that!"
Biene pushed her hand under my sweater up over my back like she often did.
I found the feeling wonderful.
"Do you have new underwear?" she asked in surprise. "I never felt anything
so soft on you before."
"Mom bought it for me. Because I've been complaining about a scratchy
pullover."
"Let's see," she said and pulled my sweater upward.
The two girls critically evaluated my undershirt. "That's a girl's shirt,
a cami," Biene stated.
"I've noticed that, too. No idea, what made Mom do that. She probably just
wanted to find something soft."
"And you put it on?"
"Yes, why not?"
"Because it's meant for a girl, Dummy."
"And? I'm constantly putting on skirts and pantyhose."
"But then you are Andrea. Now you are Andy, and then it's not OK to wear
girl stuff."
"Oh." That hadn't really been that clear to me. "And what'll I do now?
Undress?"
"That doesn't make much sense. First and foremost it's a question of why
your mom bought you girls' things. Has she noticed anything? Did she maybe
see some make-up."
"Not that I know of."
"And what about the earrings?"
"She actually was only upset because I'd had my ears pierced without
getting her permission."
"Hmmm, I don't believe that she simply bought something soft. There's more
to it than that."
"I've suspected something, too, but what should I do?"
"In the first place you shouldn't have put these things on."
"But I like them! Much better than my other things."
"Well, at any rate it's too late for that."
"What do I do if she buys me even more? Should I just not wear it? Or say
something?"
"Good question."
We talked a while without reaching a conclusion. Then it was time to begin
cooking. We went into the kitchen.
As I was getting the ingredients together, Mom came in. "Put on an apron,
so you don't get your new suit messy."
Apron. I'd never worn an apron. But I also had never cooked here. "Do we
have any?"
"Of course we do. You've often seen me in one. And I have some for the
girls, too."
She brought three aprons and gave the girls and me each one. Mom had
certainly never worn these aprons. They weren't exactly plain at all,
instead had decorative frills all around. Very feminine. Indecisively I
looked to the girls. What should I do?
But they were no help at all; they simply tied themselves into the aprons.
Why would they have problems with that? These were aprons for girls, and
that's who they were.
After our earlier discussion without an answer, I didn't know what I ought
to do. Simply go along, I thought to myself. If they're all going to wear
aprons, I can, too. I put it over my head, and Biene tied me a bow in
back. The white apron over my jogging suit reminded me a little of a
waiter in a restaurant.
"You look like a girl," said Biene.
Mom looked expectantly at me. Biene winked so that Mom couldn't see, and
made a small motion of invitation with her hand. Ah ha, I'm supposed to
test Mom.
So I edged a little closer to Mom, raised the hem of the apron with my
hands and bent my knees a little. I had no idea of how to make a real
curtsy. "May I begin with the preparation of the meal, Madame?" I
murmured.
Biene and Svenja giggled, and for a moment Mom didn't know what to do.
Svenja came to the fore. "That's not the way to do that, Andrea." She
emphasized the feminine form of my name. "You are really not grand enough
for the gentry. Come along." With that she shoved me in the direction of
the bathroom.
"Let's see what your mom says, if you look more like a girl."
"Do you think that is a good idea?"
"Of course. At any rate, this is just a bit of fun."
Svenja began to make me up. Not all that discreetly, but not much
differently than many girls in school. Then we went back.
"So, she looks better, doesn't she?" said Svenja to Mom.
Mom sat there as if made of stone, when she saw me made up. I knew already
just how much I looked like a girl. But Mom didn't. She just stared at me.
"There's something missing," thought Biene aloud. She turned to my mom and
asked, "Do you have a white paper napkin and a couple of hair clips?"
Mom awoke out of her trance, but still wasn't quite herself. "Eh, yes."
Without a question she fetched the things for Biene.
Biene folded the napkin like an accordian and cut into it. In her fingers
there took form something that looked like the lace bonnet worn by some
servants. That she placed on my head and fastened with the hair clips.
"Perfect," was her opinion.
I saw that Svenja was having trouble controlling herself. She had one hand
pressed against her mouth and her stomach was in spasms.
Mom still didn't know what she should do. After she had looked at me for a
minute, she said, "I'll leave all of you alone now." She wanted to say
something more, but couldn't seem to find the words, so she left.
##
The girls helped with the preparation. Even then it took quite a while
until the lightly seared meat was in the roasting pan stewing in its own
juice.
Finally there was an opportunity for me to go to the toilet. Oh brother, I
thought to myself, when I caught sight of myself in the mirror. That's
really almost too much.
Biene had brushed my hair up front to the back and had fastened it there
so my face wasn't bothered. With the 'white crown' on my head and the
make-up I really did look like a serving maid or chambermaid. I was
tempted to take it all down, decided not to. Let's see how long it would
take till Mom told me that I should quit already.
We went up to my room again. Now the girls turned their giggling on full
force and kindled my sense of humor, too.
After we had finally calmed down, Svenja asked, "What are you doing
tomorrow?"
I shrugged my shoulders.
"Come to my house. You can try on your new things."
"Sounds good." That would be fun.
"Naturally you can come, too," she said to Biene.
"OK. I'm excited to see what you've bought."
"But think, Andrea. You have to change before to come over."
"Not a problem."
Would there ever again be a day on which I wasn't dressed like a girl?
##
The goulash was a smashing success. Totally without arrogance, it was the
best I'd ever eaten. And the others liked it, too, measured by the speed
in which it disappeared.
Mom was pretty withdrawn and kept looking at me. What was going through
her head?
I believed at any rate that it had been a good idea of Svenja's. Mom had
now seen me as a girl and would now stop buying me girl things, now that
she'd seen where that had led. I was satisfied. Everything would be fine.
After an hour, in which we conversed and entertained ourselves nicely, the
girls had to go home.
##
I helped Mom with the cleanup. I would have anyway. She washed most of the
time when she cooked. But she interrupted me, as I was clearing the dishes
from the table.
"Andrea..."
She had called me 'Andrea' again. "Yes?"
"I would like to ask you to do something..."
"Sure, of course."
"Not so fast. I've thought about it the whole time as to whether it's
right..." Her voice gave out. I waited.
"At any rate, when Svenja made you up, you reminded very much of someone.
Unconsciously I've already felt this, but now... I would like for you to
put somthing on."
"Yes?"
"It's an old Mardi Gras costume. Then you can tell yourself that it's just
a disguise." She looked agitated.
"No problem, Mom."
"But you don't even know..."
"Gotta be girl's clothing."
"How'd you guess that?"
"You said, I reminded you of someone, when Svenja made me up. Well, only
girls wear make-up. That was a logical conclusion."
"Oh. And you don't have a problem with that?"
Was this the reason for the feminine clothing? I'd better not tell her
that I dress every day like a girl. "As long as no one sees it. And I
already look like a girl, or....?"
She didn't answer that. Instead she said, "As I said, it is a costume."
"Sure, yes. What kind of a costume?"
"Alice in Wonderland."
"Oh." Somehow there was a tingle in my stomach. This was different than
dressing like the girls at school.
Mom seemed almost relieved at my hesitent reaction. "If you don't want
to..."
"Sure, Mom. I'll do that for you."
"Good. I still don't know yet..."
"Mom, no problem," I said while I pulled my sweater over my head.
When Mom came back with clothes over her arm, I stood there in my new
underwear. She gave me some white pantyhose.
"Careful pulling them on, you can't do it just like a pair of pants."
Ought I tell Mom now, that I had considerable experience with pantyhose?
Better not. I pulled them on and pretended to being a little clumsy.
"Arms up." Great quantities of material rustled around me. It was a white
slip, decorated down at the bottom with innumerable tiers of the rustling
material. A petticoat. I ran my hand across the material. "Beautifully
soft." Did I say that out loud?
Once more I had to raise my arms upward, and now there came a sky-blue
dress over my head. It was exactly as long as the petticoat and had short,
fat puff sleeves. Mom fastened a host of buttons on my back while I
admired the unbelievable quantity of material around my legs.
When she was finished, she put a white apron over the dress, which
likewise buttoned in back and then was tied with a gigantic bow.
She sat on a chair and took one of my gleaming white legs in her hands.
Then she put a shoe on me in the style of a small child. They almost
looked like ballerinas and were also black, however, they had a strap
across the instep and shone brightly.
Now came a blond wig on my head. Long blonde hair fell into my face until
Mom tamed it with a hairband that matched the dress. On the top of my head
she tied a bow.
"Please, stand up so I can look at you."
I followed her wishes. It felt really odd as the petticoat grazed my legs.
Quite different than my long skirts.
Mom looked as though she was making an effort to hold back tears. "Almost
perfect. Just the make-up isn't right."
I had to seat myself again, and Mom busied herself for a while with my
face. First she removed my make-up, then she applied some new.
I was curious how I looked. From my perspective I could only see a large
sky-blue skirt.
"No, just wait," Mom said. She got some nail polish and varnished my nails
in a delicate pink. "Finished."
I went into her bedroom and stood in front of the large mirror. In fact,
an Alice stood there before me. Like direct from a Disney-film. My face
was also that of an Alice: somehow innocently girlish.
The whole thing made a deep impression on me. More than all my previous
experiences in girl clothes.
After a long time I returned to Mom.
"Und, how do you like yourself as Alice?"
What should I say? "Unusual, very unusual. I hardly recognized myself." I
didn't want to show too much enthusiasm.
She smiled. "There is hardly anything left of Andy, when I see you like
this." She gave me a light kiss on the forehead. "Come, let's clean up a
bit, OK?"
Mom left again, and I put the silverware in the dishwasher and then wiped
off the table. When I was finished, Mom still hadn't returned. I found her
in the living room bent over a photo album. Quickly she closed it.
"Were you looking at pictures of the other Alice?" I asked her.
"Yes."
"Can I see them?"
"No, not yet, not now. Later."
I resolved to look at this photo album, when Mom wasn't around.
"Let's watch television a little, Alice."
When I sat next to her, she put an arm around me. It had been eons since
she had done that. It didn't feel bad at all and I snuggled myself up to
her a bit later.
##
The film was over, and I was very tired. Mom undid the buttons on my back.
Nothing like a new wardrobe, I pondered, that you can neither put on or
take off by yourself.
Once again just in my underwear, I turned to go to my room. "You know,
Mom, maybe I'll go as Alice this Mardi Gras."
Annalisa
- 16.05.2022
- 13
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