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PLAYING IN A DRAFT By Persephone © 1/12/2003, Persephone This is a work of fiction. That stuff that isn't real, you know, like it has never happened and probably never will, but is still fun to read. You know, like magic, science that doesn't exist, medical procedures that would never produce the results as written and so on. Please don't comment about how the things I write would never work or never happen. Of course they won't. It's fiction, duh! This is the story of a young man inexorably drawn deeper and deeper into his own plot to avoid the draft until there is no way out but to live the life he claimed he wanted, but didn't... at first. Chapter One - The Problem The promises of a politician are written in smoke on the wind. We all know that, so why do people believe them? I guess it's because they want it to be true or because they are all optimists and think that, maybe this will be the promise that is actually kept. Fools! After over two hundred years of American politics, we should know better when we hear things like, "No new taxes," or, "I will represent my constituents," or "I will not reinstate the military draft." It was that last 'promise' that had Jim and I upset and was the reason for my current situation. It seems that the military was unable to meet its recruiting quotas. (Wars will do that) Their personnel were stretched too thin and their rotations for 'undesirable' assignments were becoming far too frequent. The politicians finally decided that it came down to reinstating the draft as the only viable solution left to bring up their numbers. They just couldn't deal with the concept of not being the police force for the world. No, we had to keep doing that so the draft was the only answer. Jim came over to my house and as I opened the front door, he shoved a piece of paper at me. "Here Cary, check it out. Look what I just got in the mail today," he said. That's me, Cary Andrew Jr. I was named after my father. Duh. He was named after my grandmother's favorite actor, Cary Grant I looked down at the paper and got a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach as I read it. Across the top it read: 'Selective Service System, Order To Report For Armed Forces Physical Examination.' Then it had his name, James Michael Ward, the local board number and address and the date that it was mailed. Below that, it read: 'In accordance with the Military Selective Service Act as amended by (50 U.S.C. App. 451 et seq.) July, 9 2003 you are hereby directed to present yourself at the local Military Processing Center (MPC) for Armed Forces Physical Examination by reporting at...' and it gave a time and date to report and the address of the local M P C. This was not good. I looked at Jim and asked him what he was going to do. He said, "I don't see that I have much choice. I have to report as 'directed' or they will send the Federal Marshalls after me, but I do have a plan." Jim graduated high school the year before me. He was nineteen and I was just about eighteen. I would be graduating in another seven months and probably be in the same fix as he was so I had a great deal of interest in what his plans were for avoiding the draft. I wanted to go to college, not into Army Basic Training. "A plan?" I responded. "Sounds like your plan is to let yourself get drafted." "Not really. You know the 'Don't ask, Don't tell" policy that the military has?" "Yeah. But that's for the homos and your about as un-gay as a guy can get. Hell, you porked half of the girls in your senior class. You got Jeanie Kravitz knocked up and had to pay for her abortion. You were one of the major jocks all through school. No one you know would ever buy that line." "Maybe not anyone that I know, but the draft board and the guys at the physical don't know me and if they question it, I'll just tell them I'm coming out because I don't want to violate Army policy. I'll tell them if I was actually drafted and had to live with all those naked guys in the dorms I just couldn't control myself. Once I tell them that, then they can't draft me. It's foolproof." "Don't say that. You know that old saying, 'Every time you come up with something that's foolproof, someone comes up with a better fool.' This is the Federal Government you're dealing with. The have all the best fools working for them. Can't you be a conscientious objector or something like that?" I asked. "No. That won't work. They just draft you anyway, make you a medic and then send you to the front lines with band-aids and no gun. No, this is the only thing I can think of," Jim said. Two weeks later, Jim reported to his physical as directed. He had done some research on the internet and was certain that he could make them believe that he was 'as queer as a three dollar bill,' as he put it. Well damn if it didn't work. It just didn't work out exactly as Jim had planned. Remember the part about a better fool? Well Jim ran into him. Jim showed up on my doorstep right after his physical and when I opened the door he looked like shit. "What the hell happened to you?" I asked. "I'm fucked, Cary! Totally fucked!" "Why?" I asked. "What about your plan? Didn't they believe you?" "Oh they believed me alright. I had everything down pat and I completely convinced them. The United States Government fully believes that I am gay and they were extremely happy to inform me that I would be a charter member in the first ever, newly created by act of Congress, all gay army unit. I was sworn in today, given my orders and a plane ticket and I have to be at the airport on Friday morning for my flight to basic training." "Oh shit! Your plan didn't work. What are you going to do now?" I asked him. "Do! What the fuck can I do? I'm in the fucking Army! If I don't go they can get me for desertion. I'm screwed and I'm in a unit of nothing but fucking homos. I'll probably get literally screwed in basic training." "What happened to the 'Don't ask, Don't tell' policy?" "They changed it last week. No one liked the policy so some California congressman came up with this plan for all gay units. This way they can work with the rest of the Army but they will live separately just like they do with the women. That way none of the straight guys have to get all worried about picking up the soap in the shower," Jim said with a crooked smile. "Yeah, but now you do. Can't you tell them you were just kidding or something?" "Not now. They had me fill out a 'Statement Of Sexual Orientation' an 'SOSO form' they called it. Then I had to sign it. If I change that now I'm guilty of making a false statement or some shit like that which is a court martial and jail time. No, I'm royally screwed. It's two years in the SOSO Army as they call it. It's the first ever all gay unit for me or a court martial and time in Leavenworth." "Well maybe it won't be all that bad," I said optimistically. "I don't know. I started to get harassed before I even left the processing center. As I was leaving a huge Marine sergeant said to me, 'When you get issued your uniforms they won't be camouflage pattern, they'll be pink paisley,' and he laughed. I think that's just the beginning of a real bad two years for me." Chapter Two - The Solution I saw Jim off at the airport and expected to see him again after his basic training but he never came home on leave. I got a lot of letters in the beginning but they tapered off quickly and then stopped altogether just short of two months after he left. I was worried about him and wrote but he never answered. I was also worried about being drafted myself. I knew that even if I got into college my deferment would only be for the current semester if I received my notice. The government was going to keep me on the edge waiting for my number to come up until I was twenty-six years old but what could I do about it? Nothing! I went on and graduated high school and was off to college. I really lucked out, I got the college of my choice, a nice scholarship, and Jeanie Kravitz offered me a room with her and her brother Bill. Yeah, the same Jeanie Kravitz that Jim had gotten pregnant. She had no hard feelings about Jim or the pregnancy. She said, "It takes two to Tango. I was as responsible as Jim was and he did his part in helping me out." She really was a nice girl and a good friend and her brother was a great guy too. Bill was going into his junior year and had gotten a nice furnished apartment for himself and Jeanie to live in. It had three bedrooms and they offered the extra one to me to help with their expenses. It beat the hell out of living in a dorm so I jumped on it and moved in with them a week after I graduated from high school. I figured I might as well. It would give me time to get the lay of the land and I was out of the house on my own for the first time in my life. Best part was, I was almost seven hundred miles from home. A couple of days after I moved in with them Mom forwarded a letter to me from Jim. I tore it open, anxiously wanting to see what was up with him. As I looked at the writing on the lavender paper, I wondered if it was really from Jim. The handwriting seemed different somehow but more than that were his choice of words and phrasing. Dearest Cary, I am so sorry. Please forgive me for not writing to you for such a long time. I have been so very busy with basic training and then technical school and now my new job plus adapting to the Army and my new way of life in this unit. My new roommate, Bob, in the dorm is such a wonderful guy I can't believe how lucky I am. He's tall, well built, and so good looking you just wouldn't believe it. I'll send pictures of us sometime soon. Anyway, what I'm writing about is that I found a way for me to get out and for you to avoid the draft. Wish I'd thought of this one first. Oh well. So, what I found out is that although they accept gays in the military now, they don't accept the transgendered because there is no place to fit them. Get it? They aren't male or female during their transition and they usually aren't gay in the usual sense so they just don't fit neatly into any slot. No one wants them living in their dorm. I've studied up on it and told the shrink that I'm TG. He's tested me and said that I'm right, I am transgendered. So with the shrink for proof the Army believes me. The doc has had me on shots and pills and some other stuff for almost six months now while the Army is processing some kind of paperwork to discharge me. The stuff sure messes with my mind and body but I know this is going to work. It's foolproof. You should study up on it and go for it yourself. It'll work for you too and keep you out of the mess I'm in. Well, I just wanted let you know. Your BFF, Jamie. XOXOXOXO I sat there in the living room of the apartment staring at the letter and finally said, "What the Fuck have they done to him?" Jeanie looked up from the TV and asked, "Done to who? Or is that whom?" "Jamie! Shit! I mean Jim. Mom forwarded this letter from him but something is way screwed up!" "Let me see it," she said as she snatched the letter from my hand and started to read it. After a minute she looked up at me with a shocked look on her face and said, "Oh my God! They're turning him into a girl! This reads like a letter from one of my girlfriends, not Jim. Or any other guy I know for that matter. Even his handwriting has changed." I looked at her and said, "I just hope he gets out of the Army before he goes too far around the bend. But it does look like he finally found the answer to avoiding military service." "Yeah, but at what cost? He is right about one thing though, it would work for you. You would only have to pretend until you got your deferment and then it would be all over." "No fucking way! There's no way anyone would believe that I wanted to be a girl," I shot back at her. Jeanie gave me a serious look and said, "They believed Jim and he's five foot eleven, weighs about a hundred and eighty pounds and is a jock to the core. Look at you. What are you, five foot eight and maybe a hundred and forty-five pounds dripping wet? Jim always had a buzz cut but you've had hair down your back all through high school. He was a major jock but you were class valedictorian and head of the geek squad. Honestly Cary, it always amazed me that you two even talked to each other let alone being best friends." "Yeah, well... But still..." Jeanie cut me off in mid protest with, "No buts, Cary. You could pull it off easily and hardly have to do a thing. I could help you out and I know Bill would help too." Bill looked up from his Sports Illustratec and said, "Huh? Help who? With what?" "Go back to sleep, Bill," Jeanie shot back at him. "I don't know Jeanie. I'm just not sure it's such a good idea. This is Jim's second 'foolproof' idea and look where the first one got him," I said. "Granted but that's Jim. He's just a dumb thick-skulled jock. Look, we'll both cruise the internet and do some serious research. We've got the time. It's over two months before classes start. Plenty of time to check it out and get you prepared. Ok?" "Alright. I'll agree to checking it out but that's all I'll commit to right now," I answered. And that was how it all started. Chapter Three - Preparation Well we did a lot of checking and reading on the Internet and in the psyche section of the library at the college. It was decided that it was the perfect plan for me. I didn't decide, Jeanie did and Bill looked up from the TV and grunted. That meant he agreed. I was out-voted. Jeanie took the bull by the horns and told me I needed to go on a diet. She said that I needed to get down to about a hundred and thirty pounds or less according to the female weight charts she found on line. I protested, "But before you implied that I was thin and now you want me on a diet to get even thinner?" "You're a little light for a guy but you're about fifteen to twenty pounds too heavy for a girl. You need to lose and you are on a diet as of now so you can get your weight down by the time classes start. It'll make your story more convincing," She answered. "Well that's just fucking great! What do you have planned next?" I asked and was immediately sorry that I had. "Glad you asked," she quickly returned. "I did a lot of research about 'girls' in transition and made a list. First, watch you language. Girls don't talk like that... well at least proper girls don't. We will have to work on your vocabulary and word usage. Second, I have it all worked out right here on this pad. The whole idea is to give you an androgynous appearance leaning a bit towards the feminine but nothing too overboard." Now wait just a minute there. I don't want to look like some flamin' faggot." "You won't. Not any more than I do," she said with a giggle. "Don't worry. I don't plan on having you turn into some lisping, limp-wristed caricature of a gay man running around trying to redecorate our apartment." "What then?" I asked, fearful of her answer. "Simple. To start with, we concentrate on your diet. You start joining me three nights a week here in the living room doing my aerobics so you can get in shape. You need to be toned but not muscular. You will also join me when I go jogging." "Next, we make a trip to the local stores where we we'll pick up some assorted things for you like soap, shampoo, conditioner, some skin creams and moisturizers, bath oils, razors, brushes, combs, and other general maintenance things. All quite simple really." I groaned and asked, "Is that all?" but she was far from finished. "For the immediate future, yeah. Once you get close to your weight, I can pick up some new clothes for you at Goodwill and the thrift shops in town. You'll need them because you'll be thinner plus, you need to wear outfits that are more coordinated and somewhat more feminine. Then later we will make a trip to the mall to get your hair styled and a manicure but that won't be until your appearance has improved and we know what we have to work with," she explained as she read from her list. I didn't like the sound of all that in the least and objected vehemently to getting a haircut and manicure but she assured me that it was all quite necessary and that I wasn't getting a 'haircut' but a trim and style to make it look better. She said I would have to be paying a lot more attention to my appearance. I still didn't like it. As the days went by I was starved half to death. She had me pick up some multi-vitamins in the health food store to maintain my health while dieting. With the diet, aerobics and jogging we were doing, I dropped ten pounds in the first few weeks and was down to a hundred thirty five pounds but Jeanie never let up. I wrote back to Jim, or Jamie, whatever. Besides filling him in on news from home and the college front, I told him I was going to try his idea and gave him a brief outline of Jeanie's plans. He didn't answer my letter. I figured at the time that he was too busy with his own problems. During that time, Jeanie had what she called 'Girl 101 Training Classes.' Every day she would set up some sort of training. She taught me how to shave my legs and underarms. I didn't have hair anyplace else except my head and crotch. Hell, I wasn't even seriously shaving my face yet. I could get by with a quick spot shave once a month or so. Then she also had me taking baths a couple times a week in some oily stuff that made my skin soft and slick. Then she also made me use moisturizer all over my body after every shower or bath. Jeanie had different creams for my face too. There were night creams, morning creams and daytime creams. I hated all the fuss and time it took but I will admit that as far as making me look softer and smoother, it worked. She was right about that. I was just looking forward to when I could stop all the high maintenance nonsense and get back to my normal routines. One unplanned benefit was that my skin blemishes and slight acne completely cleared up leaving me with a soft smooth blemish free face. Jeanie had me using a different shampoo on my hair and I had to use conditioner and brush it a lot. My hair became fuller, softer, and had a sheen to it like never had before. Jeanie taught me all about different kinds of hair. Dry hair, oily hair, straight hair, curly hair. She was merciless when it came to me taking care of my hair and general appearance. She had me learning different ways I could wear my hair. I had to practice putting my hair in a high ponytail first and then she moved on to using barrettes at the sides, a large hair clip in the back down low and then a medium hairclip at the back with just the hair from the sides of my head in it and the rest down over my shoulders and hanging down my back. From there she moved on to buns, pigtails, single and double braids and the worst of all, the French braid. What a pain that was to learn. She also taught me the French twist and some other 'up dos' as she called them. I learned about Scrunchies, ponytailers, hair bands, combs, brushes, curling brushes, blow dryers, different size curling irons, hot curlers and wearing curlers in my hair over night. I saw absolutely no need for me to learn any of this and told her so but she countered with, "Of course you have to learn this. You may not wear your hair in any of those styles out in public but if you truly were a transsexual with that long beautiful hair of yours, you know you would be experimenting with different styles. This way you can talk about it intelligently if needed. Now you know what a pain it is to maintain long beautiful hair and can commiserate with other women about it and they will be able to relate. You can't learn that from reading the style magazines that I've had you studying, you have to live it." Deep down I realized she was right. I could definitely tell someone not only how to do the different styles but all the pitfalls and what a pain each was to do. I just slumped in my seat and said, "Ok, but I'm not going outside in any of those hairdos." She laughed and said, "Of course not. You'll just wear them around the apartment. Unless you want to wear one for some special occasion or to coordinate with a style of outfit you're wearing." Jeanie's enthusiasm was beginning to worry me. Was she losing sight of the original goal or was she just seeing it better than I was? I shrugged it off. Jeanie was also a bear about my fingernails. I learned how to take care of the cuticles and to shape them with an emery board, never clippers. They weren't real long or anything but definitely longer than I was used to. She had me keep them about a eighth of an inch past my finger tips and in very neatly rounded ovals. Not a guys fingernails at all. Then there was the clear stuff she said was vitamins and strengtheners. Looked a lot like nail polish to me. She also kept attacking my eyebrows. At first it was just a trim and pull out a few wild hairs but it seemed that every time she did that, there was less left of my eyebrows. They slowly became more well defined and at the end of the five weeks I looked in the mirror and saw neat, trim, slightly arched and tapered eyebrows. Not a guy's by a long shot. She had snuck them up on me. . That along with the new appearance of my hair, which she insisted I wear down rather than in my usual low ponytail, and my weight being down to one twenty-five, I was definitely looking more like a girl. I was way past androgynous as far as I was concerned The aerobics had concentrated on slimming my waist and toning my legs, butt, arms and shoulders but hadn't added any muscle that I could see.. The Army was looking like a viable option. Speaking of the Army, during all this Girl 101 training, I had written to Jim several more times telling him what we were up to and giving him an idea what I looked like but he still wasn't writing back. I figured that the Army had him pretty busy with his job, training, and him trying to get out. Then, as if some unspoken goal was passed, Jeanie announced that the mall trip was on. Saturday morning she said that she bought me some clothes at Goodwill that would fit my reduced size and that I had an appointment at the hair salon. She said I needed to get all cleaned up and ready to go so we could be there by eleven o-clock. Jeanie had me take a bath in her smelly-good oils, shave, shampoo and condition my hair, and then use the moisturizing lotion all over my body. She was right about one thing at least, my skin never looked so clear and was never as soft and smooth as it was then. I actually sort of liked running my hands over my soft smooth skin, especially my legs. I don't know what was I thinking but it was definitely strange. Anyway, when I finished, I dried off and wrapped my hair in a towel as she had taught me, then put on my robe and went to my room. Jeanie was there waiting for me. She sat me down in a chair and worked one of her creams all over my face and neck and then removed the towel from my head. After carefully combing out my wet hair she began to blow dry it while working it with a round brush. When she was done it hung down full and straight past my shoulders with a slight curl under at the ends. Feminine was the kindest thing that could be said of my appearance. I did not want to be seen in public like this. Then Jeanie declared that it was time to get dressed. I reached for my jeans and the t-shirt that I'd worn the day before but she stopped me. "You can't wear those," she flatly stated. "Men can wear things several days in a row but a girl never would. Besides, they smell and don't fit you right. I have those new things that I told you about for you to wear." As I turned I saw her point to a pair of jeans and a shirt along with some other things on my bed. She handed me a pair of plain white panties and told me to slip them on under my robe and to 'tuck' myself back while I was at it. I held them between my thumb and index finger like they were contaminated or something and said, "These are women's panties! I can't wear these." "You want to convince people that you are serious about being a transsexual don't you?" "I don't give a rat's ass about 'people.' All I care about is the Draft Board." "And what if they check out your story? What if they ask for verification? You not only need to be convincing for them but to anyone they might question. And what are you going to wear if you get called in for a physical? You need to get used to these clothes and feel comfortable in them or they'll know right off you're faking it. Now just put them on and quit whining. Besides, your boxers would never work under your new jeans." Still holding them up, I said, "But these are way too small for me. They'll never fit me." "They're control panties. They have stretchy elastic stuff in them. Their ads say it's to help control any unsightly bulges and give you a smoother appearance," she said smiling. I gave up, turned my back to her, and started to work them up my legs. They were tight alright, and once I had myself 'tucked' they did hold everything in place. Quite uncomfortably in place I might add. I closed my robe again and turned back to Jeanie. "There, hope you're happy. If you pull a bra out of that pile of clothes I'm running away and joining the Army voluntarily." She laughed and said, "You don't need one, yet," and she told me to take off the robe as she handed me a pink cotton shirt. I knew it must be one that she bought for me because I would never wear a pink shirt. "It's pink!" I said. "It's not pink, it's rose. There's a big difference." I put it on and found that it wasn't a shirt. I found out it was actually a blouse when I tried to button it up. The buttons were on the wrong side. I stopped and gave her a look of, 'What the fuck?' She just smiled and said, "It's a man tailored blouse. It looks just like a man's shirt but made for a woman. I found several for you. Now button it up and put on these jeans." I managed the reverse buttons fairly easily and then took the pair of jeans from her and looked them over. It was no surprise that they were women's but styled very much like a man's. I could see where this was going and didn't like it one bit. "Why do I have to wear women's clothes?" I asked her. Jeanie gave me that frustrated look that only a woman can do and said, "The combination of the aerobics and your weight loss have brought you to sizes that you can't get in the men's section. You're a thirty-six up top with a twenty-seven inch waist. Your hips are at thirty-three inches. Up top you are a size eight to ten and on the bottom you are a size six to eight. Overall, you are a size eight. Now put on the jeans. We don't have the time to waste debating about what to wear." I thought to myself, 'Oh boy! I'm a size eight,' as I pulled up the jeans, tucked in the 'blouse,' buttoned them, and pulled up the zipper. They fit. They fit real well and so did the pink, ah rose shirt. "Ok, so now what?" I asked somewhat sarcastically. "Your jeans are a bit loose in the butt. Ideally there should be more of you back there but guys don't have the extra padding us girls do in that area. They'll just have to do. Now put on these socks and those tennis shoes." She said as she looked me over and handed me some pink ankle socks and pointed to the shoes. Once that was done she ran a brush through my hair again and declared me fit to be seen in public. "There. Now let's get going. We have a few things to do before your appointment." "Like what?" I asked as she pushed me towards the living room. "I'll explain in the car on the way. We need to get going." "I want to see what I look like in the bathroom mirror. See what you've done to me." I said as I started for the full-length mirror in the bathroom. Jeanie grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the front door. "Gaaaahh! Just like a woman. All worried about the way you look. You're fine. Let's go," she said as she pulled me along. Well that did it. Her telling me that I was acting like a woman was all it took to make me forget about the mirror. I figured, 'What the hell. I have on jeans and a shirt so how bad can I look?' Once in the car and under way I noticed the clock. "It's just past nine. What's the big hurry if I don't have to be there until eleven? And, what are the other things that we have to do before the appointment?" I asked. "Ok, Cary. Now I don't want you to freak out on me so just stay calm and let me finish before you say anything," she started out. I was immediately worried and started to say something but she cut me off and said, "No, Cary. Please just listen to me. I'll explain my reasoning and if you absolutely disagree then we won't do it. Ok?" "Ok. I'll listen. But I have the final say on whatever brilliant plan you have now." "Absolutely. These aren't things we could do if you refused anyway. You have to agree. First, I think you need to get your ears pierced. I've read those stories on the internet and in almost every one about a transsexual, forced or otherwise, it has them getting their ears pierced. It seems to be like a right of passage or something. So, in order for you to present the proper image to the draft board I think you need to get it done. I'm sure that if you think about it honestly, you'll agree. Right?" I sat for a few moments and thought about it and she was right. I didn't like it, but she did have a valid point. "Ok. I'll do it," I answered her dejectedly. Jeanie smiled and said, "Good. Now there's one other thing that I really think you need to consider seriously. If you want to convince the draft board that you are a transsexual, then you need to be willing to do your best to look like you want to be a woman. As you are right now you are looking real good but you are lacking in one major area. One of the main things that visually differentiates men from women is breasts." I couldn't keep quiet on that one. I had to speak up, "There is no fucking way I'm going to get breast implants like in those stories. If you think for one tiny second that..." Jeanie cut me off quickly, "You said you would hear me out so just be quiet and listen! Please? There's no way I would suggest implants. They're too permanent and too expensive. We can't afford anything like that even if you wanted to. No. What I have in mind is those breast forms. You know, 'falsies.' There's a shop in the mall that caters to women that have not been treated kindly by Mother Nature or, need help due to medical problems. If you want to get these, you can wear them or not as you choose. Understand so far?" she asked. "Yes. I understand, but why would I want to wear them?" Jeanie stated simply, "Because you want to be a woman. Or at least that is what you want people to think. It's that simple. When they call you and you go to the physical, the more feminine you look, the better. So, our first stop will be at 'Carol's Intimates' to get you fitted and buy the forms for you. Now they aren't cheap, but Bill and I pooled our mad money and you can easily make up the difference for them and the rest of what we're doing today. Now, any questions?" It was a lot to consider, but at the same time, it really wasn't all that much either. Pierced ears, haircut, and breast forms, that was all, and I reasoned that all three would actually help in the long run so I said, "No. No questions. I'm just not thrilled with any of this and will be happy when I can get back to normal. Hell, with all you've put me through to avoid being drafted, I've considered going to see the Navy recruiter about enlisting. Navy basic training has to be easier than the diet and weight loss along with the aerobics, jogging, and 'Girl 101' that you've put me through," I said sarcastically but with humor in my voice. Jeanie laughed and, without taking her eyes off the road, she swung out her right arm and hit me on the shoulder. "You haven't seen anything yet, recruit. Wait until we get to the hard part," and she laughed again. Chapter 4 - The Mall - Breasted, Pierced, Styled, and made up At the mall, Jeanie led the way straight to 'Carol's Intimates' where we were met by Carol herself. She walked right up to us, introduced herself and asked how she could help us. Jeanie jumped right in and said, " Hi. My name is Jeanie Kravitz and this is my friend Cary. I talked to you on the phone about getting breast forms for Cary." "Oh, yes. I remember. Carrie was passed over by the boob fairy and you want me to help her out, right?" "Exactly," Jeanie replied. "Fine then. You can wait here and browse around the shop. Carrie and I will go in the back and get her matched and fitted," Carol said as she grabbed my hand and pulled me along. In the back I was shown to a private area where she instructed me to remove my blouse and anything else I had on up top. The blouse was the only thing I had on so I was quickly stripped to the waist. "Oh my," Carol said as she looked at me. "You certainly do need my help you poor dear. You're as flat as a six year old but other than that you have a lovely figure. Well we can fix your problem right away," She declared. She pulled out a cloth tape and made a few measurements and then she had something that looked like paint chips that she held up to my chest until she found the one she wanted. She wrote some stuff down on a paper and then turned to look at me again. She stood with her hand on her chin and said, "Ok, honey. Judging by your size, measurements, and looking at how you're built, you should go for a B or a C cup. The B is what I would normally recommend but your shoulders are a tiny bit broader than most, very athletic looking. Looks good on you and a C cup would not look overly large or out of place. They might even provide a nice balance that would distract a bit from your shoulders. What do you say? Want to go for the C cup?" I had no clue what she was talking about and had no frame of reference. I knew a C was bigger than a B but that was the extent of my knowledge so I just softly said, "Sure," and off she went further back in the store. When she returned she had a couple of boxes and a few bras with her. She handed me one of the bras and told me to put it on. I just stood there with it draped over my finger looking at it and she let out a small giggle and said, "Sorry. You're not used to wearing a bra, are you?" I looked down, shook my head and said a soft, embarrassed, "No." Carol took it from me and held it up for me and I slid it up my arms and then she fastened the back. She explained all about a proper fitting bra and how to adjust it correctly. When she had that right she took out the breast forms and carefully put them in the cups and made some more minor adjustments, "There. They match your skin perfectly. Now let me get a look at you," she said as she stepped back and had me turn slowly. After pulling on the band around my chest and checking the straps over my shoulders again she said, "I think they look great on you. What do you think?" she asked as she turned me towards a three paneled mirror. "They're the perfect size for you. They balance out your shoulders and look completely natural. Well?" I stood looking in the mirrors in a partial state of shock. Suddenly the guy that looked a bit to feminine was completely gone and there was a young woman standing there in his place. My jaw moved up and down and my mouth opened and closed but I made no sound. Carol laughed out loud and said, "I take it by your reaction that you like them." I didn't know what to do or say so I just nodded. "Good. Then do you want these or do you want to try the B cup to see what they look like?" she asked. I was still dumbfounded with what I was seeing and managed to squeak out, "This is just fine." "Great. Then we'll finish up," she said as she reached into each cup and removed the forms. "You just stand right there and I'll be right back," and she left the room. A few moments later she was back and set the forms on the table. She told me to hold the bra away from my chest as she applied some kind of liquid to my chest. She looked at her watch and then talked to me for a bit about the care and maintenance of the forms. Then she carefully picked one of them up and placed it back in the bra cup and held it there against my chest. Then she did the same with the other form and looked at her watch. "We'll give them a few minutes to warm up and set and then I'll finish up and you can get dressed. While we were waiting Carol explained more about the care and maintenance of these breast forms. "These are the latest thing on the market. They will actually breathe to let your skin below breathe and get fresh air. They are almost like real skin. Because of that, you can keep them on for thirty, sixty or even ninety days at a time. The only limiting factor is your own skin underneath them. When it goes through the natural process of sloughing off, the glue will lose its bond and the forms will come lose," she explained. I panicked. "Glue?" I squeaked out. "They're stuck to me?" "Well of course they are, dear. That way they will react in a completely natural manner and move naturally as you move. They come with a tube of glue and a tube of solvent but the solvent is on back order. But you'll only need that to get them completely lose when your skin starts to slough off. By then we'll have some more in stock. Ok, now let's finish you up," she said as she unhooked the back of the bra and helped me to remove it. The breast forms remained firmly in place. I just stood there completely numb staring down at them as Carol put some liquid where the forms met my skin. She explained, "This is a liquid form of the same material that the forms are made of. It will blend with your skin and create a seamless transition to your own skin and completely hide the edge. See?" I did see. I looked in the triple mirrors and I had breasts, boobs, tits, headlights, whatever. The color matched my skin perfectly and I couldn't see where they left off and I began. Carol helped me slip the bra back on and told me to finish dressing and meet her out front. I put my blouse back on, flipped my hair out from under the collar, and looked in the mirrors. What I saw scared me. It was me alright but it wasn't the male me. After all that Jeanie had put me through for the past month or so, Cary was gone. A slim well-built young woman with a very nice appearance had replaced him. I shook my head hard, turned and headed for the front of the shop. Jeanie and Carol were talking at the cash register as they completed the transaction. As I approached Jeanie's eyes went wide as she looked me over, "Oh my Cary. You look fantastic. Carol, you did an amazing job. Well we better get going now." She grabbed my hand and gently guided me out the front of the store. Once out in the main area of the mall I turned to Jeanie and softly said, "They're glued on! They won't come off for three months. She didn't have the solvent for the glue. What am I going to do?" "Carol just told me about that. Don't worry about it right now. You look great and no one will know they aren't real. I'm sure there are other places that carry the solvent. We'll just get it someplace else and remove them later. Now let's get going. We don't have a lot of time." In my panic I hadn't thought about getting the solvent someplace else. I felt a lot better as we walked down the mall a ways to our next stop. Jeanie slowed down and turned into a place called 'The Pierced Ear.' "Ok, let's look around and see what we can find. I'm glad we hit a sale. Did you see the sign in the window? It's a 'Buy Two - Get One Free' sale." "Good. That should save us some money." I said. Jeanie pointed out a bunch of different types of earrings and described the difference between them. She kept asking me if I liked this pair or that pair. I told her I didn't care that much as long as they were small and not too noticeable. She held up a card with six small hoops on it and said, "Here's a nice set. It's a triple set. It has three different sizes of small hoops. What do you think?" "Yeah. They're nice." "Good. That's a start. This rack is all triple sets. We can get a better deal buying triple sets rather than singles. Here, look at this nice set of studs. How about them?" "Yeah. They're good." I answered. She continued to take cards off the rack or point to others and ask my opinion until she had six cards in her hand. "I think that's enough for now. These will get you started out and you can buy more later." I thought, 'Eighteen pairs of earrings is way more than a start. I doubt I'll be buying more.' Jeanie pointed to a stool and said, "You go sit on that stool over there while I pay for these and tell them you want your ears pierced." "I don't want my ears pierced but I don't guess I have a lot of choice," I said with a small smile. "Does it hurt much?" "It doesn't hurt at all here. They use a topical anesthetic to deaden the area. You won't feel a thing." Jeanie went to the counter, paid for the earrings, and returned with the clerk. "Cary, this is Alice. She's going to pierce your ears for you." "Hi Carrie. Your friend says you are taking advantage of our sale. You'll be so happy that you did. It's a great deal. Ok, now I'm going to use an antiseptic to clean your ears and then apply an anesthetic to deaden the area so you won't feel anything other than a little tugging. You'll also hear some snapping and clicking sounds but that's about it." Jeanie said she was going to look around while Alice was piercing my ears to see if there was anything that she liked. I said something about not liking the sight of blood and she laughed as she left me alone with Alice and said, "Don't be such a chicken Cary. There's no blood and you won't feel a thing." "Ready?" Alice asked. I nodded and she went to work. She clipped my hair back out of her way, cleaned my ears and then applied the anesthetic. While we waited for it to take effect, she explained the care and maintenance I would have to do until the holes healed. After that, she pinched my earlobe and asked if I felt any pain. I shook my head and told her, "No. Nothing." "Good. Then let's get started." She made some marks on both ears and then started with my right ear. I heard a bunch of clicks and pops and felt a slight pulling on my ear as she worked and then it was over. She swabbed it down with some more antiseptic and moved to my left ear. That one was also done in quick order. Alice released my hair from the clips and handed me a small hand mirror. "Here you go. Want to take a look? I just know you're going to love them when they heal. Triple pierced ears are really the in fashion statement now." I froze as I took the mirror from her and stared up at Alice. My mind screamed, 'Triple Pierced! She triple pierced my ears? There's three earrings in each ear?' I tentatively lifted the mirror to take a look. With my free hand I moved my hair out of the way and stared at my right ear. There they were. Three shiny gold metal studs with different colored faux gems in them, one clear, one light blue and one dark blue all in a neat row. I switched the mirror to my other hand and looked at my left ear. At first I thought it was the same but then I spotted a small gold hoop in the upper part of the back of my ear. "There's four," I squeaked. Alice smiled, "Your friend asked about that one and I just decided to throw it in free of charge. It really looks great," she said beaming. I forced a smile as I handed the mirror back to Alice and got up. "Thank you," I said to her still forcing a smile. Jeanie had returned and broke into my thoughts when she said, "It's time to get going Cary. We only have ten minutes until your hair appointment. Thank you so much, Alice." Out in the main mall area once again I did my best to keep from yelling at Jeanie. "Triple! You had her triple pierce my ears? And what's with that hoop? What the fuck..." She cut me off, "Hush! People will hear you. First off, I had no idea she was going to triple pierce your ears. She must have assumed that because I told her we were taking advantage of the sale plus we bought all triple sets. I was looking at other earrings while she was doing your ears. Second, the small hoop was my idea. It was a small surprise. I thought you'd like it. It looks cute. Now calm down. We need to get your hair done." A few shops further down we turned into the salon. My mind was working overtime wondering what was going to happen to me in this place. Out of two stops so far, I had wound up with breast forms glued on my chest that I couldn't get off and had my ears triple pierced when I expected single. Now I was entering this bastion of femininity. What unexpected things would happen to me here? The possibilities boggled my mind. Jeanie and I took a seat in the waiting area and she handed me a 'style book' for longer hair and told me to look it over to see if there was anything that appealed to me. As I opened it up, Jeanie got up and walked over to a young woman at the reception desk and gave her my name. I started looking through the book but couldn't find anything that I liked. They were all far too feminine. When I looked up I saw Jeanie further back in the shop talking animatedly with a woman wearing a sort of smock. She was moving her hands about her head and would occasionally pull on a lock of her hair or sweep her hair around. I had no idea what she was doing but instinctively knew it did not bode well for me. A few minutes later Jeanie was back sitting next to me and said, "I talked to your operator and gave her a few ideas for your hair but you two will have to make he final decisions after she gets a good look at your hair. Did you find a style that you like?" "No. They all look way too feminine. I guess the best thing is to just trim the ends and even things up a bit and let it go at that," I said. "Well you listen to what she says. She is the expert. She'll know what styles will look good with your face shape." At that moment the woman walked up to us and said, "Hi. My name is Joan and you must be Carrie. Welcome to 'The Mane Salon.' I'll be doing your hair today and Ginny will be doing your nails and make-over so follow me back to my station and we'll see what we're going to do." I walked back to her chair and sat down. I saw myself in the large mirror above her work counter and saw a nice looking but plain young woman reflected back. The breast forms attached to my chest were pushing out on my blouse and were blatantly obvious but not out of sync with the rest of my body and I could see the glint of light off the studs in my ears through my long hair. Much to my relief, and dismay, I could see absolutely nothing that indicated I was anything other than a fair looking young woman. Joan moved around me and fluffed up bits and parts of my hair for a bit and then stood almost in front of me staring at my face. She took my chin in her hand and moved my head this way and that while making various thinking sounds. "Ok. You have beautiful hair. It's long, thick, and in excellent condition but I think you need to highlight it. Your forehead is a tad bit high and your face is a bit long. I think we need to bring your hair down to diminish your forehead shorten the sides a little bit to give your face a more rounded look. Your eyebrow shape is good but I can see that you have been plucking them and the hairs are growing back in. I can fix that for you so you won't have to worry about it. How's that sound so far?" It didn't sound like much to me so I nodded and softly said, "Sounds good to me," although I was wondering exactly what she meant when she said 'highlight' my hair. I found out later. I'm sure you all know what happened. I wound up sitting there with a head full of tinfoil strips and some obnoxious smelling crap on my hair for half an hour before she took me to a sink, rinsed it all out, and shampooed and conditioned my hair. Then she sat me back in her chair and parted my hair into sections and started cutting it a bit at a time. She combed it every which way and finally had it down over my face, but only for a moment. A couple of quick snips later and I just knew I had bangs. I thought, 'Shit! It's happening again.' Joan blow dried and brushed my hair and then did something with a curling iron. After that she took something out of a drawer and plugged it in and set to work on my eyebrows. Lest I wind up with those ridiculous thin high arches that some women wear, the ones that make them look like they are in a perpetual state of shock, I decided to speak up, "Don't pull anymore hairs. I like them just the way they are." "Don't worry honey. They're fine just the way they are. I'm only getting rid of the hairs that you plucked that are growing back in." "Oh. Ok." I was greatly relieved. I'd had enough shocks for one day. It took her quite some time and it hurt every time she pulled one. I thought at the time it was because they were so short. I found out weeks later when they didn't grow back that it was because she was doing electrolysis and that the hairs she was pulling would never return. I was stuck with those femininely arched eyebrows for life. After Joan finished up, she removed the cape from around my neck and said, "Ok. I'm done here. Time for you to go see Ginny and get your manicure and the rest taken care of." After she let me up I tried to see myself in the mirrors but she said, "Aw, Cary. Don't look now. Wait until Ginny is all done and see the finished product. It'll be more fun that way." Then she took my hand and guided me to a chair and introduced me to Ginny. I wondered what 'the rest' entailed and just what the 'final product' would look like. I would find out quite soon. After I sat down Ginny took my hands and looked at my fingernails. "Very nice. You take good care of your nails. This will be easy." I thought, 'Good. At least it doesn't sound like she is going to do much.' How wrong I was. Ginny soaked my fingertips, pushed and cleaned up my cuticles, ground off and reshaped the tips of my nails and then glued new tips on them. Then she ground down, filed and shaped the new tips until they were about a quarter inch past my fingertips. After that came the usual hardener and vitamin stuff but after that she pulled out a bottle of nail polish and said, "This almost exactly matches the color of your blouse. It's a great color for you," and she applied three coats. I had shiny polished pink fingernails, or as Jeanie called it, rose. Still looked pink to me. After that, she did a pedicure and that went about the same as the manicure except no extensions, and yeah, they were that 'rose' color too. So, I had ten rose colored fingernails and ten rose colored toenails. I was not thrilled but I managed to keep a big smile on my face. I thought I was finally finished when Ginny had me lean back in the chair and started to work on my face. I knew it. I just fucking knew it! There just had to be something to put me over the edge. That final straw. The last humiliation. I was leaving here in full makeup. Shit! Jeanie may have been innocent of any involvement in the rest of my transformation problems that day but I knew she had arranged this part. She had tried to put that goop on my face before and I'd refused. "You have amazingly clear skin, Carrie. You must take very good care of it," Ginny said as she got started. "What I'm putting on will be very light for day wear and will almost look like you're not wearing any makeup at all, but it will make a striking difference. You'll see," and she proceeded to apply moisturizer and a few light touches of foundation to 'even out my coloring.' The mascara, eye shadow and a light eye liner and a 'touch of blush for color' as she put it. Then an application of lipstick in a color to match my nails and I was finished. Ginny removed the makeup cape as I was getting out of the chair. "You can look at yourself in that mirror over there," she said pointing at a large mirror on the wall. Jeanie was by my side as I reached the mirror and looked at the image of the two of us being reflected back at me. I was completely shocked and all I could say was, "Holy shit!" That earned me an elbow in the ribs. Not very appropriate I know considering where I was and my apparent gender but I was not responsible for my actions at that moment. "Cary, really! Watch your language!" Jeanie said with a bit of a huff and shock in her voice. "Sorry, but look at what they did to me," I whimpered to her. "How will I ever be me again looking like that," I said pointing at my reflection. "Don't say it like that. You're actually quite striking. If you got that look of horror off you face I think you'd actually boarder on beautiful. Not bad at all for a skinny, geeky guy." I looked back at the mirror and my reflected image. My usual brown hair was now a chestnut color with blond and auburn highlights. I had heavy bangs that came down to my eyebrows and the hair on the sides in front had been shortened but it still hung down the side of my face and curled slightly under my chin. Further back on the sides it hung down past my shoulders and in the back it was still a quarter way down my back. It was totally and completely girl. I could see no way I would be able to look like a guy again without a trip to the barber shop. I took a few steps back to get a look at the total picture. My usual small feet, long legs in tight jeans, slim but nice hips and a small waist, a nice pair of breasts and a very nice face. The little added extras like the long, well manicured pink, err, rose fingernails, the hint of earrings sparkling under the hair and the subtly made up face just served to drive the final nail. "Come on Narcissus. You can stare at yourself when we get back to the apartment," Jeanie said as she took my hand and gently pulled me towards the exit. As we were leaving, Ginny handed me a bag and said, "Here. You almost forgot this. It's your makeup. The lipstick, mascara, eye shadow and nail polish that I used. You look fantastic. Come back and see us again." "Thank you. I will," I said giving her a big smile. What the hell was I thinking? I never wanted to set foot in the mall again let alone that salon. On the way out of the mall Jeanie told me to slow down. "You're not in a race. Take smaller steps. You walk like a longshoreman. Straighten up. Head up. Smile." "I can't smile when I'm pissed." "Force yourself," she said with a small laugh. "Oh. Hey. This is perfect!" she said as she took my arm and wheeled me into another shop. The sign over the door said, "Accessories Unlimited." We were soon browsing down an isle of racks that had every description of handbag and purse hanging from them. Jeanie went through them and made various comments before she said, "Yes. This one will work for you. It's about medium sized, has lots of pockets and compartments and will go with most outfits." Within moments we had paid for it and were back in the mall headed for the exit. At the car Jeanie stopped me before I got in and said, "Before you sit down take all that stuff out of your pockets and put it in your purse. You'll look a lot better without all those lumps and bumps in your jeans. That purse comes with a wallet, coin purse and a small makeup bag too. While we're driving home, transfer all the stuff from your wallet to the new one and put the makeup that you got at the salon in the makeup bag." As we got in, Jeanie tossed some bags in the back seat and I asked what was in them. "I did a little shopping while you were in the salon. I picked up a few more bras, some panties and other things that you're going to need." "What for?" I asked. "Because I made a call on my cell to the breast form manufacturer's 800 number and asked where we could get some solvent. I found out we can't. All the solvent they had manufactured was recalled because the government banned one of the chemicals in it. They're making a new solvent now and as soon as they get it into production it will be mailed directly to us. Unfortunately, with testing, manufacture, packaging, packing and shipping, it looks like it will be around two or three months. Maybe a little longer. You're going to be in bras for some time and you need more than just the one you have on." "But I can't. I have registration in a week and my picture ID, and classes after that. Three months from now is October. I can't parade around campus with tits for that long!" I almost screamed in panic. Your only other option is surgery which will leave you scared for life and we can't afford it even if you wanted to anyway," she returned. I sat in a silent daze the rest of the way home sorting out my stuff and putting it in my new purse. Chapter 5 - What's in a Name When we got back to the apartment, Jeanie took the bags from the back seat and we went in and directly to my room where she put all the bags on my bed. Then one by one she emptied the contents out on the bed, sorted, and folded them. "Ok. Now let's put all this away," she said as she picked up a multi- colored stack of panties and walked to my dresser. "Take out all your boxers and put them on the bed." "But I need them," I protested. "No you don't. Besides they don't even come close to fitting you anymore anyway. Get rid of those plain white t-shirts too." In went the panties followed by a small assortment of bras and some things she called camis. I found out later that was short for camisole. In the closet we hung some blouses and tops. I had no idea what the difference was between a blouse and a top but she seemed to know. We also hung up a few pairs of slacks and jeans. "I couldn't get too much because of our budget, but these things should hold you for awhile and we always have the thrift stores. Size wise we are the same now except you're taller. That's why I bought slacks and jeans for you. You can wear my skirts and might even be able to wear some of my dresses depending on the length of your torso." "Dresses and skirts? No way. I'll wear the jeans and maybe the slacks because they are the only pants that I have that fit but I don't plan to dress like a girl." "Now stop your childish little temper tantrum Cary and face the facts. You have C cup breast forms firmly attached to your chest for the next several months and there's nothing you or I can do about it. There's no way you can hide them so there are only two choices open to you. You can go to classes looking like a guy with breasts and open yourself to stares, jokes and ridicule or you can dress and act like the young woman you appear to be and blend in as just another girl in class. It's your choice Cary. You decide if you want to be the campus joke or just another student." Jeanie turned and walked out of my room and left me there to think and stew on my situation. After I calmed down a bit, I walked over to my mirror and looked at myself. In the salon, I looked at my reflection as if it was another person, and I admired her looks. Now I was looking at myself. That girl in the mirror was me and, although I could easily recognize the image as my own, it was definitely not male, not any longer and not for the near future. I had a woman's body shape. Maybe a little slim in the hips but my small waist made even my slim hips look feminine. I'd always had small hands and feet so they gave me no support for the male side. My last hope, my head, had gone over to the dark side at the salon. I stepped back from the mirror and sat down on my bed. My shoulders slumped and I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes. Jeanie was right and I momentarily hated her for being right and myself for looking like a girl. I turned and fell to my bed and was lost in sobs of grief for my lost manhood. Eventually I fell asleep. Jeanie looked in on me several hours later and gently shook me awake. "Time to get up sleepyhead. It's almost time for dinner and Bill will be home soon." I unburied my face from the pillow and looked up at her. "I feel like shit but I'm better now." Jeanie laughed and said, "You look like shit too. Your face is a mess and you hair is a disaster. Come on, get up and into my room girl. Grab your makeup kit out of your purse. We'll get you fixed up in no time." 'No time' was a half an hour. Jeanie sat me down at her vanity and brushed my hair back and started on my face. She cleaned off the mess that used to be my makeup and started to reapply it. "Why not just leave it off for now? We're home so who really cares?" I asked. "You need to care, that's who. As a guy you can run your fingers through you hair and call it good but a woman needs to look good all the time. You never know who will knock on your door. You need to be prepared." She continued on and returned my face to its previous condition and then attacked my hair. When she finished, I looked in the mirror and saw the young woman from earlier in the day. "You really do look lovely you know." "Yeah, I know. Thing is that I don't want to look lovely." "Well you have to admit that it will be better going to class looking like a lovely young woman than going to class looking like a guy that is trying to look like a girl, right?" Yeah, I guess." "You guess?" Jeanie questioned. "Ok, ok. I know it will be better that way." "Good. Now let's see what we can come up with for dinner." I was helping Jeanie in the kitchen when she said, "Sure is nice having help with the cooking. The two guys that live here never help me but now that you're here the job will go faster and I'll have someone to talk to." I turned to respond and saw her standing there with a huge grin on her face and just started to laugh. "Ok, I'll help you out with the cooking." "And the cleanup and the housework too?" "Sure. Why not." "Cool." We finished up just as Bill arrived home. Jeanie had him sit at the table and told me to take dinner into him. I figured, 'What the hell, he has to see me sometime,' and took the casserole in and set it on the table. After I set it in middle of the table and stood up straight I looked down at Bill. He was staring at me with his mouth hanging open. "Wow! You look great. What the hell happened to you, Dude? Or is that Dudette now?" "I guess it's Dudette, for the next few months anyway," I said and then gave him all of the gory details of my day at the mall while the three of us ate dinner. "Holy shit, man. I know she's my sister and all but you're telling me that you let her dress you in girls clothes, take you to the mall and get tits permanently glued to your chest, your ears used as a pincushion, and your hair cut and streaked like a chick? Not to mention the makeup and long pink nails. I know you were a bit of a geek but I thought there was more man in you than that." I felt the tears start to well up in my eyes and thought, 'Oh no. Not again,' but my thoughts were cut off by Jeanie. "Bill! You SOB. How dare you say anything like that. That was cruel and totally unlike you." "I know, Sis. Sorry. And sorry to you too Cary. I must say though that you do look damn good. Guess I'm just in a bit of shock at seeing you looking like such a damn fine chick and know that underneath it's you, the geeky nerd guy that lives here." I wiped my eyes and knew I made a mess of my makeup when I saw the black mascara on the back of my hand. Jeanie laughed and said, "If you're going to break open the waterworks this often we need to get you some waterproof, long lasting makeup." The rest of the evening was pretty much uneventful until I went to bed and found a nightgown laid across my bed. Jeanie was leaning against the doorframe to my room and said, "I thought that with your new assets, that might fit better. Besides, I think you'll like it," and she turned and left. I closed the door, undressed, and put on my pajamas. Or at l