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The Interview free porn video
So, what to wear; will he want or maybe expect girly or is that a
clich??
Somewhere a little on the girl side of middle will have to do.
The idea for this has been rolling about a while. Various things I've
read mixed with some personal experience and no, I haven't had this
particular interview. One of these days...
This is a work of adult fiction.
No resemblance to reality should be inferred or expected.
Copyright KLS 2008.
The Interview
By Kristina.L.S.
The second cup of coffee helped to open the eyes and get the blood
moving. I'd worry about finding a loo nearer the appointment time.
Guaranteed I'd need it. Even with food, which for some reason I couldn't
face this morning, coffee had a slightly draining effect a few hours
later. Thank god it wasn't till 10.30. At least I had a few hours to
look semi normal; normal was probably a stretch on a good day, but
hey... I'd give it a go.
So, what to wear; will he want or maybe expect girly or is that a
clich?? I stood there in thought for a few minutes, mentally running
through my meagre wardrobe.
Somewhere a little on the girl side of middle will have to do.
Stripping off the old T and cotton beach pants that served as jammies, I
stood naked and appraised the reflection in the mirror. Long and lanky,
knobby knees and feet and hands a smidgen bigger than they should be.
Face, well... not too bad but hardly Elle Macpherson...then who was.
Figure? Naeah... Not bad. The boy bits were a little smaller than they
used to be but still sort of worked, not that that was a plus. Bubbies a
smallish B, well hey, they were all mine and felt good. As long as you
didn't run...how the hell any woman could run with those bouncing about
I'd never know. I actually liked running so favoured sports bras, what a
glamour puss huh. Yeah well tight budget, so multi purpose won over
glamour.
Slipping on the pale blue lycra briefs and matching bra took a few
seconds as I pondered the outer layer. It was a bit overcast so
something with a little warmth.
Sheer pantyhose a faded cotton cami T and a twill mans shirt loosely
tied on top and to bottom it off a full cotton circle skirt falling mid
calf. That cr?me frangipani print outline on the navy looked pretty good
I thought. Matched the shirt and set off the faded red cami. Shoes?
Hmm... the slip on suede flats in charcoal that matched the pouched
shoulder bag.
Ah the face. A quick slap of moisturiser followed by some finger-
smoothed foundation, dash of eyeliner and a swipe of smoky grey shadow.
A dusky rose blush brushed on the cheekbones and antique rose on the
lips. Hmm, too dark? No it's fine. Then the sealer, a dusting of powder
to set it all and give that smooth un-made up glow. Snort, as if.
Jewellery? What bloody jewellery? I had a ropey gold chain and one inch
hoop sleepers on... well they almost never came off, that covered the
jewellery thing. Watch? Nah had the mobile, that'd do. Quick squirt of
red door... grab the bag and out the door.
Christ where did that hour go? Traffic might be a bitch and I do not
want to be late.
Made it in and across the city with twenty minutes to spare. Coffee?
Hell no, I'd be squirming soon enough. Found a Maccas and used their
loo. Did a quick touch up and popped a breath mint, can't be too damn
careful can you, not that I'd be kissing the bastard, but even so. First
impressions and all that. Bloody hell, girly etiquette lessons and I
already knew I'd be watching the posture and deportment so much I'd
probably walk into the glass door and break my nose. Well it was
fractionally bigger than desired and needed a trim. Might not be the way
to go though. Took long enough to work on the voice as is... didn't
want to start sounding like Fran Drescher.
Ok, ten minutes. Might as well go in and wait.
The lift pinged and my stomach was tumbling about, though the lift had
little to do with it I think. At least the receptionist seems nice.
"Hi I have a...."
"Yes, do you have a referral? Ok, good just take a seat; he'll be with
you shortly. " She wandered off with my envelope in hand.
Bloody hell girl why so nervous, you've done this before? Well sort of.
Yeah well I was nervous as hell that first time too. This time he's
supposed to be a bit of a bastard. Test the mettle, see if you add up.
Shit, me add up? Crap, let's see, Who Weekly, Cosmo, the local paper or
Wheels. Pulled the phone, ok he's late... and you've crossed your legs
five times in as many minutes.
"He'll see you now, just down the hall, knock and enter. "
I stood and looked where she pointed. A short hallway with a door at the
end. Felt sort of like the gallows for some reason. Some imagination
huh.
A moment later I knocked, heard a muffled, " come..." and opened the
door.
I stopped with my hand on the door knob half through the door and took
in the room.
A view across to the south of the city, book shelf along one wall,
crammed with files and medical texts. Two chairs my side looking comfy
enough and a desk right of centre. The big leather chair behind that
desk held a figure that seemed tall and solid. He was slouched down and
stretched with his ankles crossed in front of the flat monitor and
gazing over his half glasses at the screen, his hands crossed on his
chest. He looked more like an eccentric truck driver that a
psychiatrist. Without moving he spoke.
"Here, before you sit, take a look. How is old Bradley by the way?" He
flicked what I assumed was my referral so I guessed he meant my regular
psych, Dr Brad Whitstone.
Moving so I could see the screen I took in the images of me entering the
reception room and sitting and waiting and then walking down the hall.
Trying to be objective I looked ok... not too manic anyway. Damn I need
to pee again.
"Take a seat."
So I did as he dropped his feet and rested his still crossed hands on
the desk.
"So, you want to get your boy bits rearranged into some approximation of
girl bits, hmm?"
"Um, yes... that's right."
"Why?"
"Why?"
"Yes. Why?"
"Um.." Shit stop umming. "Well, I suppose so that I can look and feel
the way I should."
"... the way you should. I see. Isn't that just a little mad. Destroying
perfectly good tissue and organs to cater to some psychological
insecurity?"
Shit I had been warned he was a hard arsed bastard, but... ooh boy. "
Well if it's an insecurity I've had it for a long time and if I'm mad
then there's plenty more that're madder. A regular possessor of these,
um, bits... would likely scream and cringe at the idea. But then I guess
I'm irregular."
"Indeed so, but does that mean we the medical professionals whose job it
is to oversee the health of society should cater to the whims of the, ah
irregular amongst us?"
"Well I think a thirty year whim deserves some overseeing, don't you?"
The first sign of expression crossed his face then as he twitched the
corner of his mouth in... amusement?
He leant forward a little, "So got a boyfriend have you? Some other
irregular that wants to pretend he's a normal man by fucking some vague
impost of womanhood?"
Ah, I had to smile at that one, " A boyfriend? Hell I don't have a
boyfriend or a girlfriend or many other friend friends, or a fucking
family or a damn career or even a stable job because that whim of mine
gets in the way and upsets people. So if it's all the same to you and it
doesn't offend your ethical overseeing I'd like to get it sorted. I mean
I'd hate to waste all that angst and anger. Not to mention depression."
"Depression?"
"Yes, funnily enough I get a little depressed every now and then. Being
the object of so much admiration and love gets me down sometimes. The
next paparazzo that snaps me in public is gonna get his Canon telephoto
shoved up his arse and his tongue nailed with a wide swung Manolo." I
sighed as he sat watching, unmoving.
"Yeah, well I get a little depressed sometimes", I tried to stop
shifting in my chair. "I get lonely and feel sorry for myself ok. The
old why me's I guess, but hell why not. I have as much right to
screwiness as the next person. I worry about selfishness and the pain it
causes others and wonder at the anger that seems to come from nowhere
from people I don't know and why it has to be me that walks away. And
I.. well it's simply about being me. Not sex or clothes or any of the
other so called feminine accoutrements. Yes I wear a skirt and I do have
some makeup on and part of me enjoys and feels right doing it. But it's
not that..."
"So you wear skirts and makeup and yet that is not part of it? So if I
were to say, fine we will cater to your whim if you never wear a skirt
or a dress or makeup or anything considered feminine again. You can be
female as far as your documentation and to the degree medicine can
achieve it, but you can't show it openly, ever.. what then?"
"Then? Then I guess I'd agree and say screw you silently and do what I
wanted later. And if I couldn't I suppose part of me would feel as I do
now. Incomplete somehow, left out and excluded. Always some rule or
something to get past. I don't know; do you expect people sitting here
to lie to you? To try any way they can to get you to nod? Part of me
might want to, but I can't... I never could. Maybe that's partly why I'm
here."
I could feel a tear trickle down at that point. I knew I'd blown it. No
way would he say yes. He'd as good as proved it wasn't purely body
image. Bastard didn't move, just sat there looking.
"Look, what do you want? My life story and all the points that got me
thinking about what is a boy or girl and why am I different to him or
her or whoever. Do I pass some test that says I'm more girl than boy and
do I walk and talk right? Do I present well? Do I respond to colour or
body language and do I track the direction of sound accurately? Can I
read a bloody map? Do I know your check shirt does not match your
pinstriped pants? Is that award there crooked? Hell... there's a million
possible questions and as many answers. I may not be little miss perfect
girl. I don't do frills, I swear a bit and drink too much. I work on
cars, though that's more cost than desire, but it can be satisfying. I
cry at sappy movies and even ads on telly. I don't care much for sports
but I can watch some and enjoy. I work and live and try to be a regular
person. I just want to feel better when I stand naked in the shower.
Even if no one else ever joins me, I'll be me." I lapsed into silence
not sure where to go next. What did he want?
"Your life story? Not much there really is there. I read it a week back.
At least so far as Brad had noted it. Underachiever and chronic loner
seems about it. So if you get your wish are you going to slide into
depression because you need some other crutch to lean on and off
yourself in the bath? I know you tried once before."
"I... um, I didn't try really. I got close I guess but I walked away and
I think I'm past that point now. If I was going to kill myself I'd have
done it years ago. "
"So what makes you, a too tall gawky looking imitation woman think you
can live your life and be happy as some castrated freak of nature? A
laughable mockery of that you desire to be. You can't have family unless
you attach yourself to someone elses. In all likelihood you will live
and die alone, trying to prove a point to whoever wants to take note.
Prince Charming doesn't want you and Princess Charming isn't interested
either. So what do you want out of this?"
"Um, I suppose all that may be true. Maybe no one does want me and never
will. But that's no more or less than a lot of others. I just want to
feel comfortable to be me. Anything else is... well dreams. Nobody
knows, do they?"
He twitched again and the smile got wider as he sat back. Somehow it
became a conversation then, not a confrontation and the next hour and a
half drifted by as he chatted about all sorts and listened to my answers
and bounced topics about. He was good to talk to, imagine that.
He actually got up to see me out, all the way to the front door and bade
me, "Have a good day my dear. Give my regards to Bradley."
I rode down in the lift trying to decide whether I'd screwed up royally
or passed somehow. I noted almost absently the sun was out and it was a
lovely day. For some reason I had a wide smile on my face and people I
passed smiled back. A nice gentle Summers day, what's not to smile at.
Gee I can be a silly bitch sometimes. I think I laughed out loud. 'Sum-
mer-time and the livin' is eeeasy... That wasn't so hard. I do need a
loo though.'
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