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The King's Outstreatched Scepter free porn video
The King's Outstretched Scepter.
This is a story of how a King's Outstretched Scepter saved his Queen, her
people and granted an11-year old their long held dream.
Hamantaschen! I awoke suddenly; one of my last memories was my family
looking at pictures, in our Purim photo album. My parents' have been
taking pictures of our family dressed in Purim costumes, forever. The
first picture in the album shows them in college. It continued yearly,
through last year. Of course, this year's pictures were still in our
digital camera. I have dressed or been dressed in a Purim costume every
year since I was a toddler. My first picture in a costume was probably
taken when I was about 16 months old. I was dressed as a Hamantaschen...
My older brother, Michael and sister, Ellen's first pictures were
identical; they were also dressed as Hamantaschen. I guess mom and dad
thought it cute and wanted their three kids dressed exactly alike, at
least once in their lives.
As I rubbed sleep out of my eyes, everything seemed strange. I felt
different. I then recalled the events of yesterday, especially of last
night. I remembered the tingling I felt during the reading of the
Megilah. It started, just as King Ahasuerus stretched out his scepter to
Queen Esther. My thoughts and recollections were becoming somewhat cloudy.
Was what I was thinking and feeling real? Is that it! My oh my, do I hope
so. It would be fantastic!!! My dreams realized!!!
By the way, since you are listening into my thoughts, let me introduce
myself. My name is Robyn Esther Mazel or my Jewish name is Rachel Hadassah
bat Yackov. What? Is that what I just said? It can't be! Can it? Why is
it that I remember that my name, is may be was, at least until yesterday
was, Ronald Ian Mazel, or my Jewish name was Raphael Yitzchak ben Yackov.
"What is going on", I exclaimed to myself. I was a boy wasn't I? Or am I
a girl? Why am I using a girl's name? A girl's name that I had wished was
mine for many years.
You may ask, why it is important that you know my Hebrew name. Well, it's
important because, it seems that everything that is happening, this
magnificent and magical change occurred last night, Saturday night, during
the Purim service at our synagogue.
For any one who does not know what Purim is, I will explain. Purim is a
Jewish holiday that occurs on the 14th of the Hebrew month of Adar
(usually in March). It celebrates a great victory of the Jewish people
over wicked Haman (Boo Hiss - sound of a grogger), the villain of the
story, who wanted to kill all the Jews. He was as evil as Hitler (Yamach
Sh'mo). The hero of the story is Mordecai, who was the leader of the
Jewish Community living in Shushan the Capital City of the Persia. The
heroine, is his cousin and ward, the beautiful and courageous, Hadassah or
Esther as she is normally known. The other main protagonist is King
Ahasuerus, the King of Persia, Medina and 70 other countries from India to
Ethiopia. King Ahasuerus, who could be very evil, had his wife, Queen
Vashti, killed because she refused to attend a massive banquet he was
throwing, wearing only her crown. After he killed her, he held a beauty
contest to find a replacement. Esther won and became Queen.
Haman (Boo Hiss - sound of a grogger), who was one of the King's top
ministers and advisors; hated Mordecai and the Jews. He hatched a plan to
have each and every Jew in the Kingdom killed. He chose the day to do so
my casting lots (Purs) and the date to do so was Adar 13. Haman (Boo Hiss
- sound of a grogger) convinced the King to do so, and an edict was issued
allowing the massacre. Mordecai learned of this and advised Esther of the
plot. At first Esther was hesitant to act, but then Mordecai cautioned
her, that her failure to act would not protect her. Esther agreed to help
her people and concocted a plan.
After fasting for three days, she would approach the King. This was very
dangerous; because anyone not invited to see him, and came within the
Royal Throne room was subject to death. Remember, the King was very
erratic and had killed the previous Queen. Esther had not seen the King
for thirty days was fearful. Nevertheless, she decided to risk her life.
She hoped and prayed that the King would allow her to enter the throne
room and talk with him. She knew that he would signal his acceptance, by
extending his hand with his outstretched Golden Scepter. She approached
the King; he smiled, and stretched out his Scepter. Esther was not in
danger, she was safe.
Through some cunning and planning she advised her Husband the King of
Haman's (Boo Hiss - sound of a grogger) plot to kill all the Jews and
that, because she was Jewish, which the King and Haman (Boo Hiss - sound
of a grogger) did not know, she would suffer the same fate as her kinsmen.
The King allowed the Jewish people to defend themselves and they achieved
a great victory. Haman (Boo Hiss - sound of a grogger), and his ten sons
were all hung, Haman's (Boo Hiss - sound of a grogger) gallows was one he
built especially for Mordecai The Jewish people of the time had a great
victory. Afterwards the Jews celebrated their victory. If you really
want to know more you can read the "whole Megilah."
So, we still celebrate Purim today. How do we do it? Several ways. We go
to synagogue and hear the Megilah read. Whenever Haman's (Boo Hiss - sound
of a grogger) name is mentioned we all make noise, yell and shout and
swing a grogger. We give gifts, and have parties. But most importantly for
me, all the kids and some of the adults get to dress up in costumes. Some
of the costumes relate to the story and others don't.
Growing up, I knew that my parents loved me. They gave my siblings and I
all they could. Anything we needed was given to us. I do not mean just in
monetary things. They were there when we needed them. They helped us when
we needed help with school work, took us places and generally listened
when we talked and discussed our problems.
I do not know what they would have said or done if I had talked to them
about my greatest and deepest secret. My heartfelt and deep desire to be a
girl. A desire that I had had since I was at least five years old. I hoped
they would not have laughed, because they never laughed at anything we
said, even if one of us came up with a really stupid idea. But I was
afraid and never told them. When I prayed to change, I was careful to do
it silently. Even though I wanted desperately to dress like a girl, I
never did so. I never even tried on my sister's clothed even though her
room was next door and we shared a bathroom and a hamper. The most I ever
did was touch her clothes lovingly, when I helped with the wash. I never
even thought of wearing my mom's clothes.
Only two people knew anything about my hopes and desires, my Bubby Elaine,
and my cousin Susan. Susan was my mother's sister daughter. They lived
only three houses down the block from us, and she was 3 days older then
me. A fact that she never let me forget. We went to the same school and
were in the same class. We used to do many things together, and hung out a
lot. One time, when my parents had to go out of town for a convention for
my dad's business, my brother, sister and I got to stay with family or
friends for five days. I stayed with my Aunt Dottie and her family. Susan
and I were together almost the whole time. I must have been eight at the
time and already knew that I should have been a girl. Susan and I spent
the entire five days together. Since we were only eight, and no one
apparently thought too much about it I got to sleep on a cot in her room.
I was envious of her pretty clothes. I was envious of all of her dolls. I
was envious of her gorgeous room. I got so envious and excited being so
close to everything I desired that I blurted out how I felt. I remember to
this day what I said. I shouted, "Susan you are so lucky to be a girl. I
wish I was a girl just like you and Ellen. I just love everything about
being a girl. I know I am one inside." I immediately froze. My deepest
secret was out. I knew that I was doomed. Luckily for me, at least I
thought so at the time, she thought I was being silly and said so. But she
also said, "Okay Robert, if you want to be a girl, I will let you be one
for the rest of the week." I took the name Robyn and spent the rest of the
week - 4 glorious days, playing with her acting like a girl whenever we
were alone. I got to dress once or twice, but only for a few minutes. I
felt so happy and content, but it all ended too quickly. I do not think
anyone knew what happened; at least no one brought it up again except for
Susan. We occasionally talked about my girl time. I believe that she has
kept my secret.
As I said the other person that knew was my Bubby Elaine, who is my dad's
mom. She knew my secret. How did she learn of it? I would say it was Bubby
or Grandma's intuition, something that I know both of my grandma's
possess. But, I think I might have given it away, at least partially. The
kitchen, especially when she was baking was bubby's realm. She was always
baking and the smells emanating from her stove were would cause you to
salivate. Bubby was a no nonsense lady. All of her grandchildren, all ten
of us were recruited to help in the kitchen when we came to visit. Boys
and girls helped equally. The punishment for not helping or griping too
much was to not share in the sweets that popped out of her oven. That was
a fate that no one, not even my oldest and most macho cousin would
contemplate.
I forgot why, but for some reason, I was visiting Bubby alone. There were
no siblings or other cousins present. I was helping her bake. Being a
fastidious person, she always had her helpers wear an apron. She had
dozens for us to choose from. I did not realize it, but, as it turned
out, I always picked the frilliest, most delicate and feminine apron
available. No one but bubby seemed to take notice of this. So on this
occasion, when I was alone with her, she offered me the pick of the
aprons. But Bubby was crafty. She arranged the aprons in such away that
the plainest aprons including the ones that Zaide used to use when
grilling were on top.
Not seeing the trap she had laid for me I rummaged through the aprons
looking for my favorite, one I had never worn before, a girl cousin,
always claimed it. I found it. Yes, it was frilly, it had bows, it was
pink, and it had pictures of little girls in aprons on it and said
"Grandma's granddaughter helper." I put it on without a thought or care in
the world. I did not realize it at the time but Bubby had been watching me
carefully. I now realize amazingly, that this had happened two years ago
while we were baking Hamantaschen. We started to prepare the filling, and
Bubby quite gently asked, "Raphael (she always called me by my Hebrew
Name") why did you choose that pretty frilly apron from amongst all the
others."
I heard the words pretty and frilly and froze like a dear in a car's
headlights. I started to stutter and all that came out of my mouth
probably sounded like "Huh, dud, and nuh." I finally in a quite tiny voice
said "Bubby it's an apron, I just grabbed the first one I saw." Well I got
one of Bubby's looks, a look that made you know that you were caught and
had better surrender quickly. She said, "Tatala, please never lie to me. I
can accept an explanation that I may not agree with, but never lie to me."
As I sunk lower to the ground, she continued, "You ignored all the aprons
on top, all the plain one's and even Zaide's apron. I saw you hunting for
something specific. You choose the one you are wearing on purpose. It is
the perfect apron for one of my beautiful granddaughters, but I am not
sure that it is one that I think most boys would wear." I immediately
started crying. She immediately scooped me into her arms, and starting
rocking me and saying "Child, Raphael, Robert, my love it will be okay.
Please stop crying and tell me what is wrong." After a few minutes I
stopped crying and calmed down. I said to her "Bubby, I am okay; lets get
back to the Hamantaschen." She would have none of that. I finally told her
my deepest darkest secret. I started crying again and knew the next thing
was that she would stop loving me, and would call my parents to pick me up
and never let me return again. But that did not happen. Instead she said,
"Maidalla, it will be all right, Bubby will try and make it better." She
had called me maidalla. Did she really say that? We then continued to
bake, and we discussed how I felt. She agreed to try and help me as best
as she could, and agreed not to tell her son, my dad or my mom. She did
make me promise to be careful and think very hard about what I was saying.
She did say that I would probably change my mind, when I started to become
a man. I knew she was wrong, but that was okay. At least she would not
divulge my secret. Whenever I visited her alone, she had my favorite
apron waiting for me. She also allowed me to play with all of the girl
toys, like dolls that she kept for her granddaughters. When I was there
with other cousins or my siblings, she had a special apron, put aside just
for me. It was not girly or frilly, but it was slightly feminine, but
still did not raise any questions from the others that were around.
As I mentioned before, part of celebrating Purim was to dress in a
costume. Costumes were of all types and styles. From traditional ones, to
more contemporary such as the latest super hero or rock star. It was
strange, but not totally uncommon to see a younger boy dressed like a
girl, or even a man dressed like a woman. The spirit of the holiday was
such to allow this to happen. In fact, as attested to by the family album,
I must have dressed in my sister's ballet costume when I was about four
years old. Knowing this I decided to become the girl I wanted to be, even
if it was only for the one night and maybe the next day. I started my
campaign; yes it was a campaign, before Hanukkah. I even asked that one of
my presents for Hanukkah, be a Queen Esther costume to wear for Purim. I
of course was ignored. But the seed was planted. I continued my onslaught,
on a regular basis. I did not give up. I went to costume stores and got
copies of brochures for Queen and Princess costumes. I went on the
Internet and downloaded pictures of what I wanted to wear. I fought a
battle to wear everyone down.
Luckily, I had two wonderful allies. My cousin Susan, who surprisingly
with her mom (had Susan told her my secret) worked on Mom. Susan said we
could go as twin Queens, and therefore I would not look out of place. But
my champion, and the one who finally carried the day for me was "Bubby the
Magnificent", my great heroine. From the start she argued my case, and
finally after having a private conversation with my dad, from which he
walked out very quietly (I wonder what happened there. I do not think that
I will ever know), my parents relented and agreed to let me be Queen
Esther for both Purim night and Purim day. I felt fantastic!
Grandma Ricki, my mom's mom, was as great a seamstress as Bubby was a
baker. She made her own clothes and always sewed costumes for everyone.
While she wasn't happy at first, she agreed to make Susan and me, matching
costumes. I got to have mine made in pink and Susan's was in purple. The
outfits were beautiful.
Bubby, Grandma and Grandpa, Susan entire family, Mom and Dad, and Michael
and Ellen were all going to Shul together. We were all in costume, even my
older brother; he was sixteen and thought it was stupid for him to be in a
costume. But mom and dad insisted and he was smart enough not to make an
issue. Except for Susan and I the rest of the costumes were quite simple
and mundane.
Susan and I got dressed. Aunt Dottie and Grandma helped Susan dress and
Bubby and mom helped me dress. The gown was beautiful. They even placed a
tiny bit of makeup on me and Grandma, who still owned some clip on
earrings, gave me a pair to wear. Susan had real pierced ears; I wished I
had them too, but I knew to leave well enough alone and not risk that my
request to have my ears pierced would backfire. Susan lent me a necklace
and a bracelet.
The synagogue was packed, as it always was for Purim. Almost everyone had
some form of costume, even if it was only a silly hat worn by the older
men or a scarf or shawl worn by some women. As always the services were
running late. I knew lots of people there. Some were my friends. Some were
my neighbors. Some were kids from school, or my Hebrew School or my youth
group. I must have known at least 30 kids around my age alone. Most of
them recognized me despite my costume. That really was not surprising,
since most knew my parents whom I walked in with or my cousin whose outfit
matched mine. I was teased by some. Complimented by others, and I was
actually told how beautiful I was (I think they were kidding). Only three
kids, a girl and two boys gave me real grief, but they were the known
bullies. I just ignored them.
The Rabbi, gave a clop on the Bimah, and started the Boruchas. He began
chanting from the Megilah. The Megilah is a long piece of parchment on
which the story of Esther is written. The story is lengthily, and normally
takes about 30 minutes to chant for an average reader. It is read aloud in
Hebrew, and the congregation can follow in printed Megilah, that normally
have the Hebrew on one side and English across from it. I understand
Hebrew, enough that by catching some words, I can keep base with the
chanting. We were now approaching one of the critical moments, we were
getting to the part where Esther, my heroine, who I being dressed like I
had an affinity for, was planning on risking her life by approaching the
King. After all these years, I knew the story well; the Rabbi began
chanting the words which translated into English read "When the King
noticed Queen Esther standing in the court, she won his favor. The King
extended to Esther the golden scepter which he was holding and Esther
touched the tip of the scepter." As he chanted the second scepter, I felt
a strange tingling through out my body. The tingling which I never felt
before started at the bottom of my toes and worked its way up my body
touching and enveloping every inch of it. The feeling came and went
quickly. After it was done I felt different then I had before. That
feeling continued for the rest of the night. However, the tingling had no
immediate outward manifestation. I did not tell my folks or anyone else.
The Rabbi finished the reading, and we stayed around for another hour or
so, having Hamantaschen, soda, and other treats.
We got home at about 11:00 P.M. and I was tired. Mom helped me get the
dress off. She wanted to take the dress out of the room, but after arguing
I got my way and she agreed to hang the dress on my closet door. I did not
need to use the bathroom and jumped into bed. I did not change into
pajamas, and just left my underwear on and grabbed a tee-shirt. I fell
asleep staring at the dress, knowing that I would never wear something
that pretty ever again.
As I said at the beginning, I awoke feeling strange and different. I was
now fully awake. I was fully conscious. I was no longer thinking of
picture albums. I knew for sure that something wonderful, marvelous and
miraculous had happen last night. I knew that I was now a girl, truly, I
did. I felt it or saw it from the top of my head to the tip of my toes. My
brunette hair was now long, very long and silky reaching to the middle of
my back. My skin was smooth. My nose was pert. As I moved lower, I reached
my now, just budding, but noticeable bobbies. I had breasts, I had hoped
to have the pleasure of this sensation since, I saw how happy my sister
Ellen, was when she started growing hers about three years ago. I saw the
bra, yes my bra, my beautiful pink training bra that was laid across my
bright white vanity, that I had AA sized breasts. Small? Not at all. Their
mine, all mine and I knew they would grow. If I developed like my sister
was doing now, and like mom, and Aunt Dottie, then I will be quite proud
of them when I grew up. I looked at my hands and my toes and noticed that
I had nail polish on them. I seemed to recall that they matched the
lipstick I had worn last night, how nice. I remembered the King
stretching out his scepter to Queen Esther. The tingling started at that
moment. In reality he was stretching out his scepter to me. To me, to
Robyn Esther Mazel to Rachel Hadassah bat Yackov. The King was obviously
reaching out to me since I shared a name with the Queen. A miracle had
happened I had changed from a boy to a beautiful girl.
I realized that I was wearing a very pretty nightie and matching panties.
I hoped, beyond hope, that what was to be seen under those panties went
along with the rest of my new body. The last I remember looking or having
anything to do with that part of my body was when I went into the men's
bathroom, just prior to the start of services last night. I had to pee,
and did so that time, like any normal boy. Even with the Queen Esther
costume on, I was still wearing boys' underpants, had to use the men's
room and just stood by the urinal and did my business. Was that going to
be the last time I stood to pee? My gosh, I hoped so. I then stood up,
placed a finger on the hem of my panties and pulled them slightly open,
and took a look. I must have scared the entire neighborhood and surely
woken anyone sleeping in my house by the scream of joy that came out of my
mouth. I no longer had that penis that I had hoped and prayed would
disappear, probably on a daily basis, since I was about six through two
nights ago. It had been replaced by, well since I want to be considered a
proper young lady, a vagina. No vulgarity from me, I won't use any of
those other words, like pussy, now will I?
I knew it wasn't a dream, I knew when I heard my mom yell from downstairs,
"Robyn, are you okay, is everything all right, why are you screaming like
a nudnik. She called me Robyn. Yes she did. The next thing, Ellen opened
my door, without knocking (which she never did, when I was Robert) and
yelled at me, "Get a move on Sis, get you tuch out of bed or we will be
late for the Purim Carnival. Hurry up and put your leotard, tights and
dance skirt. We have to give that dance recital Mom promised we would do.
A Ballet recital, how great. It was when I was five or six and taking tap
lessons at the same school where my sister took ballet, that I would look
at all the girls in their leotards and tutus and envy them, knowing that
that was how I was meant to be. That I was truly a girl and not a boy. I
wonder what we would be dancing. Something from the Nutcracker? Nah,
wrong time of year, and wrong holiday." I found the leotard, tights and
dance skirt in my closet, where I noticed all of my beautiful girl
clothes. How wonderful.
As I went down stairs, I took the time to look at our Purim album. I
opened the album and turned quickly to the first page that included me in
a costume. Were the pictures of me those or Robert or those of Robyn?
Robyn, please I wished! I looked, and it was still the same picture as was
in the book that the family had looked at yesterday afternoon. I got
scared. I was dressed just like the same Hamantaschen. There was no
difference. I was frightened. Was I dreaming? Was I still a boy? Did
nothing miraculous happen? Did the King not stretch out his scepter to me,
at the same time that he stretched it out to Queen Esther? I trembled with
fear as I turned to the page for the next year. The picture that had
always been there was of a little boy, who was dressed as Mordecai The
picture that was there now, it was NEW, it showed our family, but instead
of Mom and Dad, one girl and two boys, there were now two girls. The
little one, obviously me was dressed as a bride. I flipped through the
rest of the pages. There were always two daughters. I was always dressed
very girly, I was always, a queen, a princess, a gymnast, a ballerina, or
a cheerleader. I was never even once dressed like a boy would. All truly
wonderful girl costumes. Then I realized my fears on seeing that first
picture were for naught. A Hamantaschen looks like a Hamantaschen, no
matter if a boy or a girl is in the costume.
Glossary
Hamantaschen - Purim cakes in the shape of Haman's hat filled with prunes
or other fillings
Jewish/Hebrew name - Many Jews in the U.S. have a name often biblical in
nature that they use for religious purposes. This duality developed as
people strive to have a "non-Jewish" sounding name for secular purposes
and to blend in.
Megilah - Scroll containing the Purim story.
Grogger - A spinning device to create noise.
Yamach Sh'mo - basically translated "may his name be erased"
Bubby - Grandmother
Zaide - Grandfather.
Tatala- An affectionate diminutive term for grandson
Mamala - An affectionate diminutive term for granddaughter
Maidalla - A young girl.
Bimah - Platform from were certain prayers are said and the Torah read.
Clop -Hitting the Bimah with an open hand, to make a noise to get
everyone's attention.
Nudnik - a silly person
Tuch - Backside
Fawn
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