Andy
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Andy by Transbonder, translated by Leah from the German
TEN
I found myself in a ticklish situation. At home I only wore girl clothing
and would even live the whole vacation as a girl with my mom. And I
couldn't even tell her that I babysat as a girl.
Or could I? I didn't know how to go about it.
I went into the bathroom and removed my make-up. I couldn't do anything
about my new hair style. Besides I liked what Mom had done so
elaborately. This was clearly better than the wig. Not just to look at,
but also from the comfort of wearing it. After I removed my earrings, I
pulled on my nightgown and went to bed.
As I fell asleep I was reflecting on the fact that I would only be a girl
for a limited time here at home. Just about exactly four weeks, one of
which had short interruptions at school.
I didn't know whether I ought to be glad about that or not.
##
Although it was Sunday, I had wakened relatively early. Barely nine. A
stroll into the kitchen showed that by way of exception I was awake
before Mom. After a shower, in which occurred for the first time ever
that I didn't get my hair wet, I stood before my wardrobe closet. It had
filled up rather nicely. Unfortunately there were a number of things
present which were too childish for me. I would probably be a rather
young girl during vacation. At least the other things weren't as foolish
as the pink dress. And I had even gone shopping while wearing it without
causing a riot.
I chose the festive set of a black skirt with weskit and blouse. With
sheer black pantyhose and pumps that couldn't be so bad. But I had
neither of those. Next time shopping I would buy at least the pantyhose.
Those weren't so expensive.
Yesterday Mom and I had already begun to wash lingerie. The weekend work
of an employed mother. But we only got to my tights today. And so there
was nothing else to do than open the package that Mom had given me.
Oh man, my stomach was really in a twist! All four had a picture of a
princess in the vicinity of the ankle. Two were for the most part pink,
which I immediately laid to the side. One was white with colorful
circles, but the feet were sky blue with posies. No.
So, the last one. Mostly white. At the calves was to be seen an anime
princess under which stood in squiggly letters who this was: Snow White.
Also a few small colorful blossoms and that's all that was needed for the
dream of a three-year-old girl.
But I had promised Mom I would be a little girl this weekend. No matter
why she wanted that. And so I drew on the tights.
The skirt was made of black velvet. It was meticulously furnished with an
edging of very smooth material. Instead of an elastic band at the waist,
it had a real waist, which closed on the side with a button and a zipper.
At least the blouse buttoned in front. Even if I could never understand
why the buttons were on the wrong side. Around my neck the tapered collar
was of scalloped lace, which also appeared again on the sleeves.
Now I had to open up the skirt once more in order to tuck in the blouse.
Then the sleeveless weskit and with the Mary Janes Mommy's darling was
finished. My hair style fit in perfectly.
I stood in front of the mirror and observed myself. Much too sweet. But
something could be done about that. With a bra it would appear less
childish right away. And then, exactly as I had earlier thought, a pair
of sheer black pantyhose and a pair of pumps, and I would look like a
stylish teenager. The next time. How often had I promised myself to buy
some pumps?
I had nothing better to do, so I called eBay up on my computer. Quickly I
clicked through to the shoes and checked out what there was.
There, that was perfect. Black pumps with a classic design and heels that
weren't too high. For thirty-nine Euros I could buy them right away. And
that's exactly what I did. I was giving myself these shoes as a Christmas
present. I hoped that they would still arrive in time.
I heard Mom in the kitchen and went to her. She looked at me and smiled.
"Hi, Darling. You look sweet."
In fact I felt a little good about the compliment. Even if I liked Mrs.
Weber's compliments about my outfits better.
"Mom?"
"Yes?"
"But I'm your little girl just for today?"
She sighed. "Yes. But you scarcely have enough of something for big
girls." And nothing at all for boys, I added in my thoughts.
"The worst are these tights, Mom. With sheer pantyhose that would look
totally different. Can we buy some tomorrow?"
She looked at me again in that peculiar manner. "I'd never have thought
that my son would ask me for sheer pantyhose."
"Me neither, Mom." But I felt my old socks would look extremely silly
with this outfit.
##
Mom treated me as I appeared: Like a little girl. My hair was restyled. I
now had two smooth braids sticking out left and right and looked even
more than yesterday like a sweet little girl.
The bad part, though, was that I was beginning to like it. I liked the
girl in the mirror more and more. If I were to dress myself now, I'd take
the sweetest things of all.
By the time evening rolled around I realized that I'd had a really great
day. I'd been silly like I hadn't been for a long time. Something that I
was too old for, or so I thought. I had forgotten how much fun it was.
Hmm, wonder if we could do that again? Or even better: A little-girl
party with Biene and Svenja.
##
On the next morning I confirmed yet again that Mondays are monstrous.
Everything bad occurs then. It begins with having to get up. I had
learned from last week and had already removed my make-up and nail polish
before I went to bed. And Mom's creative hair styling was gone.
But we had wasted our time yesterday with silly games - not that I'm
complaining - so that we didn't begin the washing until late. And now
everything was still damp.
I had no other choice than to take another pair of tights out of the
package. I couldn't understand why my large supply of tights was already
used up. Had I in fact already worn them so long? Yes, it was far more
than a week. It started on the day when I made Spaghetti Aglio Olio, I
knew that for sure. That's how the more than ten pairs of tights had
indeed all been worn. By me. A boy.
When I reached for underwear I found out that the remaining two things
weren't what I expected, they were teddies. And not the type I wore when
babysitting, because there were no cups. Instead of those there was a
cute pattern. I'd better not wear that to school. If I had to go to the
toilet, I couldn't wear a teddy.
So I had to open the package of underwear. The pieces obviously belonged
to the tights, because they had the same motif.
In a flash not only did a princess look out from each calf, but one also
from my chest. Yesterday I would have found that neat, but not today.
Especially with the thought that I had to go to school that way.
The red tights were still suitable and the sweater, too. I'd had both on
for only a very short time, and they had been thoroughly aired out.
Ran the comb briefly through my hair, and I was ready.
##
After breakfast I pulled on my deerskin boots. It was honestly a miracle
that I wasn't written up because of my clothing. On the other hand -
several boys clearly looked more extreme than I did. One dressed only in
black and even had black fingernails. Plus several piercings. Another
apparently was the beneficiary of grandma's knitting and always wore the
funniest pullovers. Yet a third came in a suit coat, which earned him
unkind jibes. Especially whenever he wore a necktie.
Taking those into account, my clothing for sure was different than the
average, but I hadn't reached the extreme yet. My horse wasn't all that
romantically portrayed, more in an athletic manner, galloping toward the
observer.
I got along just fine even though I was wearing exclusively girl
clothing. If not... "Mom, where's my jacket?"
"It's probably hanging in the hall?"
"Not there. Just my new one." The one with the white fur at the hem, hood
and sleeves.
She came into the hall. "When did you last have it on?"
"When we bought the new jacket."
"I didn't bring it home. You?"
I shook my head.
"Then it was probably left lying in the store."
"Crap!"
"Andrea, watch your tongue!"
She called me Andrea so often that I barely noticed it any more.
"Yes, Mom, but what do I do now?"
"Now, I can't do the impossible. Either you go without a jacket..."
"It's below freezing!" I interrupted her.
"... or you put this jacket on."
"Then it's all over for me!"
"Why do you think so? Pull the hood down over your face, then no one will
see it. And no one will recognize you. In school you take it off in an
isolated corner and then hang it with the other jackets."
I looked at her distrustfully. "Would that work?"
"Show a little courage. You're behaving affectedly like a girl."
What else could I do? I was already late getting there. I put on the
jacket. The hood was large enough, so that I could pull it down over my
face. I was looking through the white fur.
Most of the people were still half asleep, and no one paid attention to
the girl who was so frozen that she pulled the hood far down over her
face. For once I was thankful for Monday mornings and low temperatures.
I found a quiet corner and took off the jacket. If someone were to ask me
now what I was doing with that, it would be my girlfriend's jacket.
In the break between classes I met with Biene. "And, how was the weekend
as a little girl? You had a real case of the jitters about that."
"Jitters isn't the right word, I just didn't like these childishly sweet
garments."
"Didn't like? That means, you like them now?"
How do girls do that? Mom was just like that. They both noticed things
like that right away. When I didn't answer, she piped up, "Aha, I'm
right."
"Yes," I admitted muttering in a low voice. "I was so silly, and Mom was
so charming..."
"You don't need to make excuses. I understand it. I've already gone
through this."
"Yes, but..."
"No, but. I think you sometimes simply have to experience what it's like
to be in sweet things. After all, you're not going to wear them every
day."
If she were to see my underwear... "Good, I liked it. But since you liked
it, too, next weekend we can have a little girl party. I'm certain sure
you'll look sweet in a dress like that."
Now the ball was in her court. I saw that she hadn't expected that. She
had precisely the same hang ups as I did, it was easy to see. Teenagers
want to be grown up, and not younger.
"We'll see," was all that she could answer. Then she left quickly before
our talk could go in more directions that were uncomfortable for her.
##
In the next break I met Svenja. "Hi, Andrea. You really gave Biene a
shock inviting her to a childrens' party like that."
"What makes you think that?" I said with a serious look on my face. "You
are invited, too. Get a pretty little dress; you'll look really sweet."
She looked at me in disbelief. Had she copied this facial expression from
Mom? Then she fled without saying anything.
Those two were something! Didn't dare to dress in such things even though
they were girls.
But I had to talk with them. First, it now occurred to me that they'd
both called me Andrea -- and in school at that. Did anyone call me
Andreas any more?
##
Later Mom gave me the Mary Janes for Mark. Next day Mrs. Weber and I
agreed that I'd bring the dresses on Wednesday. I was anxious to see
Mark's reaction. It was easily possible that he'd fink out when the dress
actually lay there before him.
On Wednesday I had several things to carry: The dresses including
lingerie and shoes for Mark and me. All that took several bags. I had to
get up earlier so I could get the bags to the garden house before I went
to school. I certainly didn't want to get caught with all that.
Biene actually accepted the invitation for my "party." I didn't believe
it. Then I asked Svenja again and added a tale of delicious food. She
wavered. I felt sure she would accept no later than the next day.
I don't know why it made me so happy. In reality it was totally foolish.
But in the final analysis no sillier than the pajama party Biene had told
me about.
##
I'd thought of everything, I thought. But thinking should be left to
horses, they have bigger heads.
Finally I had all my lingerie in my wardrobe again after our washing, but
this morning I still was wearing the dreadfully sweet things. Even the
sweetest of all. But it made no sense in changing clothes twice.
I had originally intended as always to put on the things I had bought in
the garden house, and then the pink dress at Mrs. Weber's. But it became
clear that I'd better not change there. Mark could too easily see
something that he ought best not see.
I had also asked Svenja to lay out one of the padded bras. Because in the
pink dress there was no room for my breasts. Who would have thought of
such a thing in the making of the dress? Apparently the dress was cut the
same for all sizes without taking into account that girls grow breasts
eventually. Well anyhow, what girl, who was tall enough for this dress,
would put on such a thing?
I thought of a questionaire that we had to fill out in school some time
back. After name and address there were three possibilities to mark: (Sex
feminine), (Sex masculine) and (don't know). That had produced laughter
from some. The background for this was the principle that students must
always have a choice not to be able to answer a question. Someone who
applied this principle apparently hadn't given it enough thought. And
whoever had produced the dresses in different sizes hadn't either.
The padded bra would give me exactly so little by way of breasts as would
fit into the dress. Because I couldn't just show up suddenly without
breasts. If Mrs. Weber asked about my sudden reduction in size, I'd just
explain it in terms of a snug sport bra. I'd seen how Biene's breasts had
looked rather small in such a garment.
As I said, I'd planned everything so well. And in so doing, I'd forgotten
that today was Wednesday. Gym class. And I was wearing pink lingerie and
pink tights with princesses on them. In glitter.
I cursed the day on which Biene had gotten me to try on her things.
Everything had started with that. Otherwise I would never have worn girl
clothing. Why hadn't I stopped the whole thing in time? Why had I let it
get so far that at home I only had dresses and skirts? And these childish
tights?
I could have managed somehow to get boy clothing. Even if it didn't
amount to much, and it wasn't so comfortable to wear. But a package of
simple socks cost very little money. The same for underwear.
I decided that enough was enough. This wasn't going to go any farther.
Today and tomorrow I would still go to Mrs. Weber's as Andrea, and that
would be it. No more girl clothing. And certainly no party.
For now I didn't know of any other way to deal with the situation other
than to skip gym. Reporting myself as sick was not a good idea; my
lingerie would have been spotted very quickly. I only hoped that I could
pull off my truancy without a hitch. Staying after school, for instance,
wasn't a good idea at all, since I was supposed to be at Mrs. Weber's at
that time.
But at least with that I had luck. So soon before vacation many things
are not handled so strictly. My absence was not recorded. But with that
I'd used up my luck. Yet it wasn't till tomorrow that I was aware of
that.
##
School was out and I was in the garden house to change clothes. Even the
bra was pink. A few minutes later I had the dress on and was dressed
completely in pink, since my jacket was pink, too.
Under the white fur of the jacket a goodly portion of the dress skirt
peeked out with its bows and attached pompoms hanging down. But the skirt
wasn't long enough to conceal the oh so beautiful princesses on my
tights. The only thing not pink were the Mary Jane shoes from the Alice
costume. But that wasn't really helpful.
I scarcely dared to go out on the street in my get-up. Even the first
time in my skirt I wasn't as nervous as now. If someone who knew me saw
me! I pulled the hood deep over my face, took my purse and the bag with
Mark's things and set out with thumping heart.
I only met two passersby in the short distance. And they did look at me
curiously. The one woman just plain stared at me. Oh man, why couldn't I
have on a normal skirt! I was just happy about my intention of dropping
the party, and then I wouldn't have to put these things on ever again.
This was too much pink for an entire lifetime.
##
Mrs. Weber quickly grinned when she opened the door for me. I wished that
she had these things on, then I could laugh about them.
When I had taken my jacket off, Mrs. Weber and Mark inspected in detail.
Mrs. Weber was amused, Mark fascinated. These were dresses for children
and from Mark's big eyes you could tell we hit his taste perfectly.
Mrs. Weber then left with Lena, but would come back soon. When we were
alone, Mark said, "You really have a neat dress on."
Well, OK, at least someone liked it. After all I was wearing it just for
him. I was always wearing dresses for someone, for Biene, for Mrs. Weber
and for Mom. It was getting to be time to think of myself.
"I just put it on for you."
"For me?"
"Yes. Because you said, you would sometime like to dress like I do." That
was the understatement of the century. He had bugged me to the nth
degree.
"You have a dress for me?"
"Yes." I took the things out of the bag. His eyes grew round.
"Undress." Now I was eager. To my astonishment he undressed right away.
And it didn't seem to be a big deal if he were seen naked.
I pulled the underwear out of the package and gave him the panties. He
pulled them on without hesitating. But then with the camisole he first
admired the glittering princess before he pulled it over his head.
I took the package with the tights and laid the four different ones out.
"Which one would you like?"
Sure of his aim, he chose the one that was like what I was wearing. I
helped Mark get them on. Now he already looked rather pink. "Hands up."
Now came the dress. I pulled the zipper shut and tied a big bow. Just
like my own dress. The aprons at home had compelled me to learn how you
tie a bow behind your back. Maybe it wasn't perfect, but that made no
difference to me.
In short order he was dressed identical to me. He wanted to see himself
in a mirror, but I held him back. "Stop, young lady. We're not finished
yet."
I laid my purse on the table and took rubber pigtail fasteners and a pink
satin ribbon out. Mark hat blonde hair down over his ears. Not very long,
but enough for two little braids, which I kept in place with the plain
rubber fasteners, around each of which I then tied a bow. The hair that
was not long enough for braids I pinned up.
A breath of blue eye shadow on the lids, the same pink lipstick as I was
wearing, and Mark was allowed to run to the mirror. There he admired
himself in great detail. Of Mark there was nothing left. Instead a little
girl stood there. And in her case the sweet garments were suitable, it
was as though they were made for her.
After some time I went to him and took his hand, because he had admired
himself enough. In the mirror the exact same looking sister of the girl
appeared. I was actually surprised at how I looked. Not as bad as I had
thought. But rather just like a big sister.
Mark seemed to like it as we stood hand-in-hand in front of the mirror.
That's why it took a little while until we finally left.
"What should I call you now?" I asked Mark.
"What do you mean?"
"You look like a girl. It doesn't seem right to call you what I usually
do."
"You mean, I can't be called Mark any more?" Obviously he hadn't thought
about this before. This strengthened my opinion that he didn't want to be
a girl, but that he simply liked the clothing.
"Sure, you can still be called Mark."
He looked reflectively down at himself. "You're right. I don't look like
Mark any more." Then he thought intensely. "Tina."
"You'd like to be called Tina?" Now my confidence was shaken.
He answered in a sing-song, "My name is Tina, my name is Tina, my name is
Tina."
##
A little later Mrs. Weber came back with Lena. I would have thought Mark
would be afraid to show himself to his mother. But that wasn't the case.
As always he went up to her to greet her.
"And who is this?" asked Mrs. Weber. She could hardly believe how her son
looked. It was plainly to be read from her face.
"I'm Tina, I'm Tina," Mark sang. "Look I have two pigtails." He pulled on
one. "Like Andrea. Before I could stop him, he pulled one of mine. Hard.
The wig shifted to the side.
##
I was completely benumbed. Panic had me firmly in its grasp. Finally I
managed to shove the wig back. Now it was all over. She'd call the police
immediately and I would be at the police station as a little girl - and
tomorrow in the newspaper.
"You don't need to be so frightened, Andrea," she said in a soothing
tone. "I've known for a long time that you wear a wig." And she'd never
said anything?
"Your wig isn't bad, but a person can tell that these aren't genuine
hair. For example, with real hair some are always shorter than others,
the long ones fall out and grow back in again. But these hairs are all
the same length." I'd never paid any attention to those details.
"Just don't worry about it, I had that once as a young girl. Lice. So bad
that nothing helped other than cutting everything off. I wore a wig for
at least half a year."
"Lice..." I echoed.
"See, with you, too. It's really not so bad, your hair will grow again."
"But it takes so long," I said without thinking.
"I know. But I have an idea. You have worked so well, and I really like
you a lot. I would really like a daughter like you." She paused. I didn't
know what I was supposed to say.
"I would like to give you a present. A really good hair piece."
"But that is much too expensive." I was familiar with the prices, because
I had looked for something better than my wig. It was simply
uncomfortable.
"Nonsense. I would like to thank you and make this a Christmas present.
Besides, I can afford it. I'll call right now to see whether Marie still
has an opening. That might be difficult so near to Christmas."
She went to the telephone and dialed a number. I sat there in some
confusion. Instead of the police I was getting a new wig. She wasn't mad
at me, thankful instead. I couldn't believe it.
##
I had just come from the bathroom where I had adjusted my wig. Mrs. Weber
had finished her call.
"Just a moment, Andrea."
I stopped and stood still.
"Your bow isn't right." She fixed something in back. "OK, that's a lot
better. We can't have you looking any worse than Mark, eh Tina," she said
smirking. "If the two of you are dressed like sisters. You must not have
felt perfectly at ease while you were walking here."
I nodded instinctively.
"You are really quite a special girl, to take on something like this
without asked for some kind of compensation. Not many would do it. To be
exact, I can think of no one other than you. That's why it makes me even
happier that I was able to prevail upon Marie to give you an appointment
tomorrow. You'll go there tomorrow right after school, and then you'll
come to me. Here is the address. I'll give you money for a taxi."
##
Later I asked her, "What should I make for supper?"
"Nothing. Today I'm cooking. We can't have your dress getting messy."
Before I could utter anything about an apron, she pointed to my legs and
added, "And a princess isn't supposed to work anyway."
I blushed. Again. And this time there wasn't even a good reason.
"I would like for you to observe how Mark acts. Play with him. Maybe with
stuffed animals. Later you can tell me what he did."
And so I spent the afternoon playing with Tina. She was thrilled by that.
Especially since we were dressed alike, which she frequently brought up.
Hmm, now I was thinking of him as feminine. No wonder considering how he
looked.
Now I understood a little better how I had managed to succeed as a girl.
I thought of Tina as a girl, although I knew that she was a boy. And Mrs.
Weber didn't know that I was a boy, so it was no wonder that it had
worked out. That had been a good idea of Svenja's to dress me so
feminine.
Or was there also something else I didn't know as in the case of the wig?
##
"You're giving these things to Tina?"
"I got them just for her."
She shook her head in disbelief. "I've never had a baby sitter who gave
me presents."
"Well, it's actually for Tina."
"I don't know whether Mark," she emphasized the name, "will ever wear
these things again. After all he is my son, not my daughter. And I
wouldn't want to start something in motion which later had consequences.
"Don't misunderstand me, I've found the idea to dress Mark as a girl very
good. He looks sooo sweet in the dress. You, too, by the way. Sport bra?"
I nodded. Man, this woman simply saw everything.
"On the other hand I don't want to reach the opposite result with a
misunderstood ban. But normally small children are very changeable and
quickly lose interest in a new toy and it will never be looked at again.
I'll simply wait to see how Mark reacts. It could be that I'll have to
ask a favor of you."
"Any time, Mrs. Weber. I can promise it now already." I liked her very
much, and she had been so generous with me. First the jewelry and now the
wig.
"I know, it is not simple for an almost grown-up girl, but if the
occasion arises to come again with these things."
Man, I wanted to stop this girl stuff. Tomorrow was supposed to be the
last day. And now I had promised her...
I couldn't believe it. The way Mark was acting, he would want to wear the
things again. It was very probable that Mrs. Weber would ask me to make
good on my promise. For what reason did this dress persecute me like an
infectious disease?
##
I absolutely couldn't get away from this dress. In the most literal
sense. I'd tried for quite a while to untie the bow Mrs. Weber had fixed.
Without any success.
If I didn't want to go home this way, there was only one way out. I had
to press Svenja's doorbell and be seen by her parents. Oh man, how
embarrassing!
And Svenja's mother didn't routinely ignore my outfit. It just wasn't
normal to dress like that. She wasn't sure whether someone like this was
the proper type acquaintance for her daughter. Only after ten endless
minutes did Svenja rescue me up to her room.
"What caused you to show up here in these things? Are you crazy?"
"I had no other choice."
Then I told her the whole story.
"Andrea, just how do you manage to stumble from one catastrophe into the
next?"
"I'm naturally gifted?"
----------------------------------
Note:
In order to be able to describe the clothing, indeed to know how they
look, I have sought pictures in the web. That is, several of Andrea's
things have examples in the real world.
http://www.fictionmania.tv/storyimages/ForeignL/Andy.htm/index.htm
Alma
- 11.04.2021
- 6
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