Nandita To Nandini
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Butch And Stacy 3 free porn video
Butch and Stacy
Synopsis: Matt is upset about losing Butch. Mrs. Wilson tries to deal. I
go to church and meet potential friends and at least one potential enemy.
The girls did not seem put out by Matt's reaction to my makeover, but then
again they didn't know I was really a guy, which made his reaction much
more meaningful to me.
They scampered downstairs to sample the lasagna, and praised Matt's caesar
salad.
"So Stacy!" Cho chirped. I saw Matt wince at the name. "When will we meet
at the mall on Monday?"
"The MALL?" Matt exclaimed. "Don't tell me you all are going even further
with this makeover thing? Remember, all Butch really needs are some T's,
jeans and underwear!"
They scoffed at him. "Stacy is taking a new direction and giving Butch a
rest, so that means yes a new and more appropriate wardrobe, AND a nice
trip to the salon!"
Matt groaned.
I just replied "Ten o'clock would give me time to get ready, check the
balance on my debit card, and get lost at the mall before finding the rest
of you I guess."
"Oh don't worry about getting lost", Cho said. "All the city bus lines tie
into the downtown-mall run, and so with one transfer you will end up like
everybody else does, at the main gate. We'll just meet inside at the all-
for-a-dollar store."
I nodded, "cool", and asked what I should bring.
"Just your card and your body" Natalie answered.
"We are going to dress you completely, from the skin out!" exclaimed Sarah
with a grin.
Matt sounded like he was choking. Sarah just kep on grinning.
"Are you gonna eat that or pick at it?" Matt asked. Natalie just handed
him her leftovers, and so did I. Anxiety had dampened my appetite.
"I didn't make any dessert, but we do have some choco-chip cookies" my old
friend said.
"No ice cream, I don't suppose?" queried Cho. Matt looked in the freezer,
but shook his head.
"Well then, cookies will be fine" said Cho, and accepted a couple. So did
Sarah, which gave Matt an excuse to grab a handful for himself.
A few minutes later the girls offered their thanks to our host, and
reminded me of our date. They walked off with their heads bent together,
chatting eagerly. It looked like I had made their day, and maybe their
summer!
Matt leaned over the table at me. "Are you really serious about going
through with this? You could just pretend to be a 'tomboy' and get your
typical skateboard type gear, and they would not suspect anything."
I nodded. "You're right. I'm not real confident about any of this. But
they asked me if I was anti-female and I am not and did not want to appear
to be. And then they were so nice to me, so welcoming and accepting! I
hate to let them down."
Matt said simply "What about letting ME down?"
I had no response. He had a right to be upset; he was my oldest friend,
and this was quite a change.
We trudged off silently to the family room and watched a war movie until
his mom came home.
"Hi boys! Mm, something smells good, and you saved some for me, and a
nice salad too!" she called out, and then walked in on us.
Her jaw dropped, and she stared from me to Matt and then back to me again.
As she plopped into the nearest chair, we both began explaining at once
about the muddy clothes, the swimsuit, the girls and their
misunderstanding, our reasons for not disillusioning them, and how the
washer had damaged my remaining stuff.
"Ah, it's an old clunker; it's telling us to trade up!" she said, taking
it remarkably well, I thought.
"But why the hair style, and makeup?"
I took over and explained about how they had befriended me (even when they
dicovered that I had padded my chest; especially when Francine made
herself vulnerable by showing me her own enhancer!) and how they invited
me into their clique and made me feel special. Matt had been my only
friend, and now I had three new ones, and fine ones too, really decent
people.
Then once I agreed to be a member, they had informed me that my agreement
meant that they now had the obligation and power to help me be myself,
and that meant a makeover "for my own good."
"And how do you feel about this...Stacy? Can you make it through the
summer pretending to be something you are not?" Mrs. Wilson asked
tentatively. She leaned forward with her elbows on her knees, and looked
me in the eye.
"I don't want to upset Matt, he is my oldest and best friend and I hope he
always will be. But let's face it, I have always been pretending to be
something. My clothes, my attitude, my sports and occasional fights and
even my nickname, they were just a way of pretending too. I tried to
pretend to be a normal guy, but nobody was convinced. I could not get
accepted on any school teams; I had to go to the Y, which didn't count
because their teams are all coed. The only ones who would sit with me at
lunch were girls. It was just like I was pretending to be a guy but not
fooling anybody!"
My cheeks were warm; this was sensitive personal information and I had
never opened up about it before, not even to my mom.
Mrs. Wilson nodded her head slowly.
"So you are caught in this role as a girl, and feel morally obliged to let
the girls help you discover your "Stacy' side?"
Yes, that would be a fair way to put it.
She ran a hand through her hair. "Stacy, there may be more going on here
than meets the eye. That's all I feel free to say right now, until I
contact your mom. But she needs to talk with you, and it's only
secondarily about what happened today."
Now I was on fire with curiosity but all she would say was "I care about
you and support you in this, Stacy. And please call me Aunt Liz, won't
you? After all, we are just like family."
Matt snorted, but his mom scolded him. "If you can't be a friend, at least
respect your mother in this" she said. He made no reply. "I expected more
maturity from you, Matthias Jerome! If you have nothing more to say, then
you know how to find your bedroom" she said firmly. He got up, walked
there, and closed the door. At least he did not slam it.
"Would you like to go to church with me tomorrow, Stacy?" she asked.
"That would be nice, but I don't have anything suitable to wear."
"Oh I'm sure Zoe didn't take her good outfit to horse camp", Aunt Liz
mused. "Let's go upstairs and see."
She soon located a summer weight white dress with an embroidered bodice
and high waist; it had puffy cap sleeves with a mesh netting which came
over the rest of my arms, helping disguise my muscles. White hose went
with this, and white patent leather shoes. A little round straw hat
(white, of course) with a turned up brim would be pinned on the crown of
my head, and I would wear small white lace gloves.
I swallowed hard.
Here was another step to be taken, from casual to formal, and in front of
many strangers.
Aunt Liz smiled and kissed me on the forehead.
"You'll be fine", she said, before I went to bed myself. "I can guarantee
one thing; you'll be the prettiest guy there!"
I actually was chuckling about that as I prepared for bed, selecting a
simple sleeveless cotton nightgown. Aunt Liz had a way of easing my fears,
that was for sure.
It seemed like mere moments until I was awakened by the sound of a spoon
beating on the back of a pan. "Rise and Shine! Wake up and smell the
coffee!" called Aunt Liz' familiar and welcome voice. I did smell hot
coffee! And bacon too.
I ran downstairs and found the table set, with coffee, juice, bacon and
eggs and toast. And my aunt. But no Matt.
"He won't get up, and refuses to come to church" she sighed. "I swear I
don't know what to do with that boy. He says to tell them he is sick,
because he is. I'm sorry Stacy, this is unlike him. You need his support
right now, but he is being backward."
"I understand, Aunt Liz" I replied. "If I suddenly found out that Matt was
turning into a girl, I'm sure it would take me a while to get adjusted to
the idea!"
She choked and sputtered into her coffee, surpressing a laugh. "Yes, that
would be quite a picture, wouldn't it? But I doubt he would ever be the
prettiest guy in church!"
She helped me get ready, and showed me how to use double stick tape to
hold the breast enhancers in place. She redid yesterday's subtle makeup,
put a couple clips in my hair,carefully pinned the hat in place as the
crowning glory, and had me look at myself.
I could not accept that this sweet looking younger girl was me. Some
stranger named Stacy was staring at me with timid eyes. I remembered
looking at girls like her, a couple years ago, and wishing I had the nerve
to ask one to go out with me.
Many people greeted us at church and asked about me; Liz explained that
this was Stacy, and that our families had always been extremely close. She
was always careful to avoid any gender-specific pronouns, and never called
me "niece", but the implications were clear.
It was a pleasant building, sunny, not too big, and the people seemed
friendly. Midway through the service, a motherly looking lady stood up in
the choir loft to sing. Aunt Liz explained that their choir went on hiatus
during summer months so they made do with guest soloists.
But as the singer stood and looked out at us, she suddenly crumpled into a
heap! A man leaped onto the loft, saying "It's her sugar again! Call 911",
which they did, and she was revived by the EMT people much to our relief,
but still went to the hospital just to be on the safe side.
The pastor said " We are thankful our friend is safe! It appears we must
continue our service without the usual special music, unless someone feels
called to help us here without any notice or preparation?"
Instead of just going on with worship, he took a moment and looked out
over us all, as if asking the question again, silently.
Aunt Liz discreetly elbowed me in the ribs! I jumped, and the pastor
looked at me and said "Are you volunteering, young lady?" What? But Aunt
Liz said "I hope she is; she has a fine trained voice."
So I squared my shoulders and marched up to the choir loft. The organist
said "Will you need some accompaniment?" and ordinarily I would have
agreed, but of course we had not practiced and it might be better to have
one person unprepared than two. "Thanks very much!" I said, knowing how
brave he was to offer such a thing on the spur of the moment. "But if you
do not mind, I can share one of my favorites which sounds well a capella."
I clasped my gloved hands in front of me, stared out at the expectant,
uncertain faces below, and began "Be Thou my vision,. O Lord of my
heart..." . It was an old Irish tune, on a modal scale, the kind you can
play on the piano using only the black keys. It has a haunting, primeval
sound, that makes you listen for echoes when it is done.
"...Still be my vision, O Ruler of all." I concluded. Everyone was silent,
as though they were indeed listening for echoes. Then there came a
smattering of clapping. The pastor said "We do not ordinarily applaud
during worship, but let's make an exception, and call it an act of
praise!" And then the applause came pouring over me.
I lowered my head; there were tears in my eyes. I could barely find my way
back to our seat. Aunt Liz squeezed my shoulders and said "Well done,
soldier!"
I did not notice much about the rest of the service; there was a humming
in my ears, and I felt faint. Afterward, many people came up to greet me
personally and say how they appreciated the song. The pastor invited me to
come back and sing any time, and he was seconded by the organist who
happened to be the choir director. "In fact", the organist said, "I also
happen to teach music, and lead the school chorus! I would guess you are,
what, going into seventh grade?" I nodded; that would be Zoe's grade after
all, and I was wearing her clothes. "Well if you decide to stay here after
summer is over, we would be more than glad to have you! I can always use
someone with a voice like yours, and so poised, too."
Did I detect a trend? This was the second time someone had suggested that
I might stay here this fall.
A boy came up to me then, about my own true age or so, tall, with curly
sandy hair and ruddy cheeks. "Hi, I'm Evan", he said. "I sing in the choir
here, and do a solo or two in the summer. Would you like to do a duet?
I'll bet out director, Mr. Waverly, would jump at the chance to hear us
together."
I said sure, and gave him the Wilson's number for future reference. He
grinned. "See you later then!" he said as he walked off.
Lastly, a sullen looking girl approached us. She was deeply tanned,
solidly built, and had dark golden hair cut above shoulder length, and
deep blue eyes.
"He's gay, you know" was all she said to me. "Huh?" I asked. "Evan! He's
very 'out', so you can forget about him."
"What makes you think I am looking for somebody to hook up with?" I asked,
irritated.
"We all are, honey, some of us are just honest about it. Say Mrs. Wilson,
where's Matt today?"
"Oh he couldn't come; it's possible he isn't feeling well" she replied as
truthfully as was discreet.
"Well you just tell him I missed him" the girl ordered, and marched off.
"How rude!" I exclaimed.
"Yes, but boys ignore that you know, because of her good points." I looked
puzzled, and Liz gestured toward her bosom with a wry smile.
I reddened. "You mean Matt...?" She nodded. I looked down at my own meager
chest.
I shook my head, as if coming out of a trance. What had I been thinking?
"It's been a long day already, Aunt Liz", I said. "Can we go home?"
And so we did.
Cayleigh
- 25.04.2021
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