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Henrietta By Annie James Helen Williams, director of the new Broadway play scheduled to open in the fall season, had toured with the play throughout its first year. After a summer break, the cast had been reassembled in New York and following one week of rehearsals the play was due to open on the first Friday of October. It was now Tuesday and she faced an unprecedented emergency. On the way to this morning's rehearsal, both the male and female leads as well as their two understudies had been hospitalized with life threatening injuries when their taxi had been broadsided by a truck. "The show must go on," thought Helen, as she sat at her desk in mid- morning after the company had been dismissed for the day, "but how?" As she reviewed in her mind the remaining cast members, it was very evident to her that none of them possessed the necessary physical attributes for the parts. Who, that was capable of learning the necessary lines, could be obtained on such short notice? With a sigh she called in her assistant and they began the process of telephoning agents. By mid-afternoon they had made no progress. It was then that she became desperate enough to consider amateurs. As a favour to her brother, who was a High School Drama teacher, she had spent two weeks of her summer vacation conducting a workshop for some of his better students. In fact, she had used this very play as the vehicle for her teaching. As co-author and part owner of the script, she had had no difficulties with copyright, and had actually produced a scaled down production as a class project. She thought back over the students, to consider if any possessed enough talent for a beginning on the professional stage. She remembered two; the girl and the boy who had played the lead roles. Both displayed real talent, and yes, she was desperate enough to risk using them! Immediately she phoned her brother. It took another half hour before he could be free of his class to return her call. To her further dismay, he did not know the whereabouts of either student. Both were seniors and had graduated in the spring. He would make inquiries and would get back to her. Getting back to her took only about fifteen minutes, but the news was not encouraging. The girl had just left for Europe with her parents, and the boy had left last week to enroll at University. Meanwhile it appeared that one agent had an actor and an actress ready and willing to take on the challenge. When she hung up from talking to her brother she gave approval for her assistant to carry on with the necessary negotiations, with emphasis on settling the female lead first. Then she returned to the problem of making the necessary contact at the University. Yes, the Registrar's office confirmed that he was enrolled. Yes, the Dean of Students confirmed that he had taken a room in the College Residence. No, there were no individual phones in the building, just a pay phone in the lobby. He would have a notice posted on the bulletin board advising Henry Thorson to call collect to either her home or office number. Yes, he would have the notice marked 'Very Urgent'. When she and her assistant finally left the office at seven-thirty, nothing had been decided, but there was nothing more that could be done since even the West Coast offices were beginning to close. Her mood was very depressed when her telephone rang just before ten. "This is the operator Ma'am. I have a call from a Mr. Henry Thorson. Will you accept the charges?" A moment later she was talking to the lad himself. "Thank you very much for calling back Henry. I certainly appreciate it." "That's no trouble Mrs. Williams. I can't imagine what you would want with me, though." Quickly Helen explained her problem and how it had come about. "Would you be willing to come to New York to help fill in?" she finished. "Gee, that sounds wonderful, but I am already enrolled here and I have paid the tuition and all." "We would pay the University anything they demanded to release you. Provided the play is a success you will make a fabulous salary for a beginner." He was flabbergasted at the figure she named. "Gosh, that's tempting, but ...." "You're not likely to get another chance to start in a starring role. You would even have your own dressing room." "How long do I have to think about it?" "My decision will be made by nine in the morning. We open Friday. If necessary you can call me back before midnight, or after seven in the morning" "I'll think it over very carefully and call you first thing tomorrow, with my answer." Helen had to content herself with that response. As she prepared for bed she thought about Henry and his potential as an actor. She remembered that he was the only student who had taken her advice seriously when she instructed everyone to learn all the parts in the play, not just their own. He had been able to prompt others when they forgot their lines, and he had successfully filled in for others when they were absent. She had used him often to demonstrate the techniques she wanted them to learn. On one occasion during a practice he had even filled in successfully for the female lead. She went to bed still worried about the possibility that this last hope would not materialize. The telephone beside her bed rang at the same time as her alarm. When she confirmed to him again that his would be the starring role, his answer was, "Yes, I'll come at the salary you named." Feeling greatly relieved she quickly arranged to wire an airplane ticket to O'Hare airport and told him to phone her from there about his arrival time in New York. Chapter Two Her good spirits were dashed again when she arrived at her office at eight-fifteen, to learn that the negotiations her assistant had been instructed to make had been unsuccessful. There was still a hope of getting the male actor though, provided the decision were made before ten this morning. Very discouraged, she sat down at her desk to consider her assistant's only suggestion. "You'll just have to play the role yourself," was the advice. "But I'm too old to play a teenage girl, especially with such a young leading man. Besides I can't properly direct if I'm part of the cast," moaned Helen. "How good an actor is your teenage star?" "He has lots of talent but only limited amateur experience." "Have you considered making him the heroine?" "Certainly not. How can you suggest such a thing?" "You were very enthusiastic about his performance at your workshop. You told me yourself that he was better at the female lead's role than the girl you had chosen." "Yes, but that wasn't done in costume, and he didn't have to be kissed by the male lead." "Well if you don't want to play the role yourself, and you won't adopt my suggestion, I guess I had better notify the agency to start refunding the ticket sales. What is it going to be?" Helen was silent for a long time. Finally she spoke again, "Cecile, you used to be the best make-up artist in the business. Would you be prepared to take on a special project.?" "You know I try never to let you down." "Then it's settled! As soon as you finish completing the negotiations for William Adams, you're going back to your old m(tier. If you answer the phone when Henry calls to say when he is arriving, be sure to have him give you all his measurements before he hangs up. You and I will have some shopping to do this afternoon." Helen let on that she was disappointed when Henry called to say that he was unable to catch a flight arriving before seven-thirty that evening. In reality she was relieved. This would both postpone the inevitable and give Cecile and herself some time to make preparations. They spent the whole of the afternoon doing just that. Meanwhile, an unsuspecting Henry Thorson fretted away most of the day in the Chicago airport. On his landing in New York, Helen was waiting at the arrival gate. She quickly loaded him and his bag into the car and drove to her apartment. After a light snack he settled into her spare bedroom for the night. She cautioned him that he would be wakened early because of the need to prepare for a dress rehearsal in the afternoon. He took a copy of the script to read over before turning out the light. In spite of his excitement he slept well. Helen called him at six. They shared a light breakfast before driving to the theatre at seven. No one else seemed to be around as she hurried him inside and into a dressing room. He was left sitting on a sofa going over the script once again. Chapter Three After his first time through the script, Henry took a few minutes out to examine the room in which he found himself. Obviously the previous occupant had been a woman, as attested to by the clothing which still hung in the closet and filled the drawers. Her theatrical costume was displayed on a dressmaker's dummy and several wigs were displayed on their forms on the dressing table. Through the bathroom door he could see lipstick and other cosmetics sitting beside the sink. They did not look like the theatrical makeup displayed at the dressing table in the main room. He was pondering this when the door opened without warning to admit a woman of about twenty-five. "Good morning," he said in a friendly voice. "Mrs. Williams put me in here. I hope I'm not intruding. I'm Henry Thorson." "You're not intruding at all Mr. Thorson. This is to be your room. I am Cecile Langley. I will be your backup person. I'll do your makeup and so on. Right now Helen told me to help you go over your lines." "I'm pleased to meet you, Mrs. Langley," he responded, offering his hand. She shook it warmly. "It's Miss Langley, but you should call me Cecile. Everyone uses first names in the theatre." "Then you should call me Henry." "I would, even if you didn't ask. Would you like a cup of tea before we get down to work?" She proceeded over to one corner of the room where there was a small counter with a hot plate and some dishes. She carried the kettle to the bathroom sink to fill it and returned to plug it in beside the hot plate. While they waited for it to boil she asked, "What part of the script do you want to go over first?" "Act 2 seems the hardest for me to remember," he answered. "Act 2 it is." She turned the pages of her copy and started to read the female part aloud. He responded without making much use of the copy in his hand. "You seem to have Richard pretty well in hand." she remarked. "Do you know Anne's part as well?" Without waiting for his answer, she walked back to the corner to fill the teapot from the now whistling kettle. She returned carrying a tray with the tea things and a plate of cookies, which she set on a small table between the two chairs on which they sat to eat their snack. After some small talk as they sipped their tea, they went over Act 2 again, trading parts as she had suggested. Act 3 followed with Henry playing first the male lead and then the female. By the time they had gone back and completed Act 1 in a similar fashion, the morning was almost over. She had kept him hard at it, paying attention not only to the dialogue, but also to where each actor would be standing on stage, and to all the additional actions which would be required in the final productions. "You can take a five minute break," she finally offered, "while I find Helen, who is going to join us for lunch." While she was gone, he continued to review the script, trying to make certain that he would be letter perfect during the actual rehearsal. Both Cecile and Helen were carrying trays of food when they came back into the room, and the three sat down for an informal lunch together. During their meal Cecile asked several questions about just how some of the scenes were to be played. Henry listened intently to the director's answers and added several questions of his own. Helen answered patiently, carefully explaining exactly how she wanted the scenes played. She did not linger long after eating though, and hurried on her way after explaining that she had to speak to other members of the cast. "When do I get to meet the others?" Henry asked of Cecile. "This is such an unusual situation that you won't be introduced to them until after rehearsal," she answered. "Right now you had better have your shower and shave, so I can get you into your costume and get your makeup on you." Cheerfully he entered the bathroom and began to undress behind the closed door. "Leave the door unlocked when you get into the shower and I'll hang your underclothes on the back of the door," she called. Ten minutes later, when he had turned off the taps and stepped out to dry himself, he found only a single pair of underpants waiting for him. They fitted closely and had no fly front. "Is this what they wore in the 1700s?" he asked plaintively. "They're not very comfortable and they're not too practical." "They must have served the purpose, so you'll have to make do." "Don't I get some kind of bathrobe." "Don't worry about it. I've seen bare chests before." Somewhat diffidently he stepped back into the room. She stepped toward him. "Turn around now," he was told before he had time to recognize the garment she was holding in her hands. She slipped it around his waist and quickly did up the rear fastenings. "Now pull in your stomach while I tighten the laces." "Did men wear girdles at that time?" he asked as he realized that a waist cincher was rapidly reducing his girth. "I don't know whether this is accurate period costume or not, but Helen said you must have a narrow waist. This is the only way we can accomplish that. Now pull yourself in some more." "This is torture," he complained as she tied off the laces. He had still not turned around when she handed him the shoes which had no discernible difference between left and right. "No stockings?" "No stockings. You're only a peasant, after all." It was only when he had turned around to face her and could see the garment she was now holding that he suddenly began to question how he was being costumed. "That's not a tunic," he exclaimed, "that's a skirt!" "So?" "Men didn't wear long skirts, even in the middle ages." "They did if they were in the church, but you're not playing a man." "What do you mean. Richard is certainly a man." "Oh," said Cecile, in all apparent innocence. "Do you mean Helen didn't tell you? You're not playing Richard, you're playing Anne. William Adams is playing Richard. I hired him myself." "William Adams, the Hollywood actor?" "Yes." "But Helen said I was to play Richard. I'm certainly not going to make a fool of myself by trying to play a girl's part." "I agree with Helen that you're not going to make a fool of yourself. I think, if you remember correctly, she promised you a starring role, but she didn't promise a particular part. The very reason she hired you was that she had seen you practising both parts and she knew you could do either." "Where are my clothes? I'm going to leave right now." "The clothes you wore this morning?" "Certainly." "Why I put them down the laundry chute. They're already on the way to the cleaners. They'll be back by the time you need them again. You will look awfully silly if you go out of the theatre dressed the way you are now." "Well, I'm not going on the stage dressed this way either." "Of course not! You'll need your skirt and blouse. Now calm down and look at this rationally. If you succeed in playing this role during the rehearsal, and none of the cast guess that you're a male, you will have passed the ultimate test for an actor. Helen and I both have full confidence in you. If you don't go on, Helen will have to play the role herself, and we both know she is too old for the part. You'll have a great future in the theatre if you carry this off. Here, slip this skirt on." He was still standing there indecisively as she placed the coarse woollen skirt over his head and drew it down so that his legs were covered. After fastening its waist she turned to find two foam pads and place them as falsies in the front of his waist cincher corset. His costume was completed with a low-necked peasant style blouse also made from homespun wool. He seemed lost in thought and said nothing while silently obeying her next order. "Sit at the dressing table while I make up your face." He continued mute while she completed the application of greasepaint and prepared his face for the effect of the stage lighting. When she had added his wig, a rather hideous mass of tangled hair, he looked truly the kind of Liza Doolittle waif in whom only a Professor Higgins would be able to discover any trace of beauty. "Now," declared Cecile, "We have three quarters of an hour to spare. We'll go through Act 1 once more." Chapter Four Henry reluctantly took his place on stage for the opening curtain. He had not met any of the other actors and would recognize them only as the characters they represented in this familiar play. Cecile had kept him very busy in the time leading up to the opening curtain, but now he could feel the butterflies in his stomach, even though he knew that the audience consisted only of the Director, the Producer and the others officially connected with the production. The curtains parted and he forgot himself as he became immersed in his role. As one of the stars, he was on stage most of the first act and stood in the wings waiting for his cue whenever he had a momentary respite. Just before the first intermission he faced his 'Richard', the actor William Adams, for the first time. "My God," he thought to himself, "am I going to have to submit to that man kissing me?" Luckily the scene ended before the look of disgust which crossed his face could be seen by the audience. He had no chance for introspection between scenes. Cecile took him by the arm. "Hurry!" she urged, "You have a big costume change." When he emerged from the dressing room for his next scene it was as a transformed individual. Gone were the ill-fitting shoes, replaced by dainty boots with high heels; gone was the homespun skirt, replaced with layers of taffeta petticoats beneath a linen skirt; gone was the peasant blouse, replaced with a high-necked white silk blouse with long flowing sleeves; gone was the untidy hairpiece, replaced with a carefully combed and styled wig. Nor were the clothes the only change. Revised facial makeup, coloured fingernails, a necklace and earrings all proclaimed that this was a member or pseudo member of the upper classes. Once more he threw himself wholeheartedly into his role, and the second act proceeded without a hitch. It ended with Richard and Anne (William and Henry) strolling hand in hand across the stage. Again Cecile rushed him back to the dressing room for a costume change. The pace was not quite so hectic however, and he had time to express his fear of the final love scene. "How can I possibly let that man kiss me?" he moaned. While she fastened the long row of buttons up the back of his magnificent satin ball gown with its form fitting sleeves and bodice, and its sweeping skirts, she tried to reassure him. "Just remember that it is all an illusion for the benefit of the audience. When he takes you in his arms, no one can see your face. Just keep your teeth tightly together and don't let him take any liberties." When the crucial scene finally came to pass just before the closing curtain, it proved less of a strain than he had expected. William immediately recognized that his stage lover was not willing to do more than pretend. He backed off quickly and whispered in Henry's ear. "That was a very fine performance, my dear. If you keep up this standard, we'll have a very long run, and I'm sure by the end of it you will welcome my kiss.!" Henry was saved the necessity of a reply by a standing ovation which the other actors, and the crew standing in the wings, gave for the two star performers. "I'll be looking forward to meeting the real you at supper," finished William as Cecile pulled Henry by the arm, away from the crowded stage and back to the dressing room. "What did he mean he'd see me at supper?" asked Henry as the door closed behind them. "The whole cast is invited out for supper, courtesy of the producer," answered Cecile. "That's where the director will make her final remarks. She will introduce you and William to each other and to the other members of the cast. There will be lots of champagne and lots of toasts. Everyone will probably have a little too much to drink and go home to sleep it off so we can all start on the right foot tomorrow, the big night." Chapter Five In the emotional release that accompanied the realization that he had successfully portrayed a female character on stage Henry was almost giddy as Cecile worked to remove his costume and makeup. "I did it! I actually did it!" he said happily, "and no one even guessed." She opened the back of his magnificent satin gown and urged him to withdraw his arms and step out of it. After placing the dress on its hangar she handed him a white terry cloth robe and ordered him to sit at the dressing table. She carefully placed the wig on its form and started in to cream away his makeup. He removed his own shoes and stockings and then squirmed a bit as he twisted on his chair while obeying her order to remove his underpants. She made no comment as he succeeded in slipping them off while keeping himself primly covered. "Here. Hand them to me." Cecile carried the discarded garments across the room and returned carrying a wispy piece of silk and lace. He had actually drawn the delicate nylon panties up as far as his knees before he realized what acceptance of the garment implied. Sudden panic seized him. "I don't need these. I'm not dressing to go back on the stage," he complained. "Where are my own clothes?" "I already told you. Your other clothes are in the laundry. You have to wear what I have here for you." "Have you got a pair of jeans for me?" "Certainly not. You can't go out to dinner wearing jeans. Hurry and pull those panties up." He said nothing more for the moment as he attempted to comply. Where the greasepaint was already cleared away, she saw his face beginning to turn red as he seemed to encounter difficulty. "Would you turn your back please? I can't get these into place properly." Cecile said nothing to indicate she realized his problem was caused by a sudden unwanted erection. Instead she turned and crossed the room again. When she returned he was sitting quietly but the flush was not gone from his face. She handed him another garment. "Put this on. It will control your problem." She politely turned her back while he struggled to pull the lycra pantie-girdle into place and arrange his privates comfortably. Cecile resumed the task of cleansing his face. "Do you want to continue wearing the waist cincher, or will I get you a lighter bra?" she asked pleasantly. "I'm not going to wear a brassiere," he stated firmly. "I'm not a girl." "Very well. You can continue with the waist cincher." she answered in a conversational voice. The realization suddenly hit him that he would not be able to remove the restrictive garment without help. "Aren't you going to undo it for me?" "Not if you won't cooperate by wearing a bra." He sat sullenly while she continued to cleanse his face. Finally it was Cecile who broke the silence. "Okay. Put on your scuffs and come to the bathroom. I'll have to wash off the rest with soap and water." Beside the sink she removed his robe and started in to scrub his face and neck. She handed him a towel to dry himself. While he was doing so she picked up the lady's shaver from the counter and, before he could voice an objection, began clipping off the hair under one armpit. Henry bowed to the inevitable in this unequal contest of wills. "I guess you can undo the laces now," he said in a resigned voice. "You mean you will wear a bra instead?" "Do I have any choice?" Cecile did not reply, but set to work to loosen and remove the restrictive garment. He sighed with relief as the pressure eased and was left standing in front of the sink, clad only in his panties and girdle. He enjoyed the feeling as she sponged his upper body with a dampened cloth and dried him with a towel. He said nothing as she removed the few hairs on his chest with the razor. "Step up on the toilet so I can do your legs," she ordered. For just half a second he hesitated, before complying. He remained quiet as the razor did its work. Back in the outer room she seated him again at the dressing table facing the mirror. He studied himself in the glass as she strapped a self-padded satin and lace bra around his chest and adjusted the straps. "Here are your pantyhose. See how I put my thumbs into one leg right to the toe. Hold up your foot so I can slip it on." She pulled it into place up to one knee. "Now you do the other leg." He did not answer, but did as ordered. "Now stand and pull them the rest of the way up." "Okay, here is your slip." He raised his arms to allow the sleek nylon garment to slide into place. As she adjusted the shoulder straps, he could see its lace bodice highlighting his artificial bosom. Its silky material fitted smoothly about his waist, flared gently over his hips, and ended in another flurry of lace at mid- thigh. "Sit down again while I make up your face." He stared in fascination at his reflection in the mirror as she applied the cosmetics. She worked quickly, but with consummate skill, deftly adding blusher over a base foundation. She took time to tweeze a few hairs from his brows before applying the eye shadow, then brushed his lashes with mascara. When a blond pageboy wig had been placed on his head, he could scarcely recognize his own image. "Stand again while we get your dress on you." The drop waist dress of yellow sharkskin with its bateau neckline and short sleeves went on over his head. When she drew up the long back zipper, the dress emphasized the attractive lines of his slender figure. After the addition of a gold watch, necklace and earrings, followed by a final touch of lipstick, he stepped into a pair of black pumps with stiletto heels. "Now practise walking back and forth across the room while I change my dress and freshen my own face," she told him. The creature who obeyed this last order truly displayed an unmistakable aura of feminine allure. Chapter Six "Cecile, there is no way I can carry this off. It's not like acting on the stage." "Then how come you are modulating your voice so successfully?" she asked. "But I don't have any script to follow." "Helen and I have every confidence that you can ad lib whatever lines you need. You've often done that on stage. Anyway I'll be beside you to prompt if necessary. Come over to the cupboard and get your coat." He was astounded at the luxurious gray fox fur coat which she held for him to insert his arms into the sleeves. The satin-lined garment seemed to caress him as he squared his shoulders and did up the front fastenings. He was swept by a wave of erotic excitement which for the moment overcame his fears. Cecile had put on her own cloth coat, handed him a black purse to carry, took him by the arm, and led her reluctant prot?g? out into the hallway. Walking along the now empty corridor and lobby, with his shoes sinking into the thick carpet at each step, Henry pondered his strange experience in complete silence. As soon as they stepped outside, the click of his heels on the sidewalk resounded over the noise of the street. He stood at the edge of the curb while Cecile hailed a taxi, and was erotically thrilled again while entering the cab, as the fur of his coat slid smoothly across the car seat. He continued to say nothing. His self-absorption was such that he was scarcely aware of the directions she gave to the driver. Recovering his awareness of the world around him, he remembered to smile at the doorman who took his arm to assist him out of the car. Cecile led them through the hotel lobby and down a short wide stairway to a private dining room. Before opening the door she paused to whisper to him. "Now remember. You are the star of the show. Be gracious to everyone and call each person by their first name when they are introduced." His level of nervousness rose sharply. The buzz of conversation stopped as they stepped into the room and all eyes turned toward them. "There you are, Henrietta," called out Helen. "Everyone is just dying to meet you." She walked over to give him a hug and to buss him on both cheeks. Henry was conscious of her body pressing against him for the brief moment. As she stepped back she called out, "Waiter! Miss Henson's coat." He reached with one hand to unfasten the front of the fur and slid his arm out of the sleeve as a flunky in a starched white jacket stepped up to assist. He had to shift his purse from hand to hand to free his other arm. Henry straightened himself and looked at the gathering. It felt awkward to be holding a purse, and he was very conscious of the posture enforced by his high heels. Helen turned back toward the room and raised her arm for silence. "Ladies and gentlemen," she began, "I am most pleased to introduce the actress who has made it possible for our show to continue. We would not be here today if she and William had not come forward to fill the gap in our ranks. I give you, Henrietta Henson!" she stepped aside and lifted Henry's free hand into the air. There was a wave of polite applause and a line began to form in front of Henry. At its head was William Adams. "I'm sure William needs no introduction, Henrietta," said Helen. The actor stepped forward, made a sweeping bow, then took Henry's hand in his and leaned forward to place a kiss on his cheek. "It's a real pleasure working with you, Henrietta," he announced, "And I do look forward to getting to know you better." "I'm sure the pleasure is all mine, William," Henry lied politely. Each member of the cast and crew stepped up in turn to be named by Helen and greeted by 'Henrietta'. Henry was careful to repeat each person's name as part of his response and to smile his most engaging smile. A few of the cast members bestowed their ritual kiss on his cheek but most were satisfied with a handshake. As he shook the last hand, Cecile appeared at his elbow to hand him a glass of wine, which he sipped while continuing to make small talk with some of the junior cast members. Each time he lifted the wine to his lips, the sight of his own red fingernails and the light stain of lipstick on the rim of his glass, reminded him again of his new estate. Henry feared that he would be forced into sitting with William Adams when they were called to the table, but fortunately William was trapped by several junior female members of the cast into dining with them. From the table where he sat with Cecile, the crew chief, and an elderly wardrobe mistress, he could observe that William appeared well pleased by the attentions of the young women. Henry spoke as little as possible, but made a sincere effort to appear gracious. Afterwards Cecile complimented him for his efforts. "I liked the way you spoke to George and Rita," she said. "Rapport with all the members of the cast and crew is the mark of a true star." Henry remembered to go sparingly on the wine as a series of toasts were drunk to the hoped-for success of the play and to members of the cast and crew. Nevertheless he was beginning to feel giddy by the end of the dinner. Cecile called the waiter to bring his coat and he stood near the door while almost everyone came up once more to shake his hand. Most of them were also by this time emboldened to kiss him on the cheek. He felt slightly unsteady as Cecile led him back through the lobby of the hotel and asked the doorman to call them a taxi. At the same time he felt a sense of relief that he had acted his role successfully without anyone suspecting the truth. Even William had seemed to accept it as normal and in character when he refused an invitation to go dancing with the excuse, "Oh, it sounds lovely, but I'm sorry. I couldn't. I feel a headache coming on." As he settled on the seat of the taxi and snuggled in his fox coat, Henry took this first opportunity to review in his mind the events of the past two hours. "Henrietta Henson," he mused. "I wonder why she chose that name. Anyway I guess she could hardly call me Henry Thorson. And some people shortened it to Etta. I'll have a hard time remembering to answer to that." Rousing from his introspection he asked, "Where are we going now, Cecile? Back to the theatre, or home to Helen's." "We're going to my apartment." Cecile replied. "But all my things are at Helen's." "Whatever you'll need is available at my place. If there's anything we've forgotten, we'll pick it up tomorrow." When the taxi let them off, Cecile paid the driver and led the way to the door of her apartment building. "Don't leave your purse behind," she reminded Henry as he stepped from the car. He retrieved it and clutched it tightly as she unlocked the outer building door and led the way to the elevator. Inside her flat he stood while Cecile took his coat to hang in the closet. He headed straight for the bathroom as soon as she told him where to find it. In his haste, he almost wet himself during the hassle of lowering his underclothes. He sat while his bladder emptied itself of the accumulated wine, then wiped himself and struggled to dress again. When he had pulled himself back together he returned to the living room. He was about to just flop in a padded chair, but thought better of it and settled down demurely with his legs crossed at the ankles. He looked down at his nylon clad knees and used his hand to adjust the hem of his dress. When Cecile returned from her own toilet break he asked, "Well, where do we go from here? I won't be able to keep up this impersonation for long." She did not answer directly. "Let me help you get into something more comfortable and you can ask Helen when she gets here." she offered a hand to help him rise from the chair and led him into a bedroom. Thinking this would mean a return to his normal mode of dress he followed willingly. First she unfastened his necklace and placed it in a jewel box on the dresser. Then she unzipped his dress so that he could step out of it. She handed him a hangar and he hung it himself in the closet. "Now over your head with the slip." "Shouldn't I take off the wig first?" "Not yet. We'll do that last." In a moment he was standing in just bra and pantyhose. She forestalled him reaching behind his back to unhook the bra by saying, "You can sit to take off your shoes as soon as you lower your pantyhose and girdle." These garments had reached his knees and he was sitting to deal with the shoes when she ordered him to raise his arms again. Another garment slid over his head and down as far as his hips. "I'll help you with the shoes." Cecile bent over to remove each shoe and finished pulling off the pantyhose and girdle. She reached for a pair of satin slippers from under the dressing table and placed them on his feet. "Now stand again." The delicate peach coloured satin nightdress slid down to cover his legs, its lace trimmed bodice enticingly covering the twin bumps on his chest. As he looked at himself in the mirror, he could once more feel his confined sex straining against its imprisonment in his nylon panties. Henry was nonplused. He had thought that 'something more comfortable' meant his own clothes. He did not resist when Cecile held out a heavy satin dressing gown. He slid his arms into the full sleeves with their narrow wristbands, and himself did up the large buttons on its lapover front. A part of the lace bodice of his inner gown continued to display in the vee neck. "There, I bet you feel much more comfortable without the pantyhose and girdle. Let's go back out to the living room to wait for Helen." They watched television for the next half hour until a buzz on the intercom indicated that Helen was on her way up. She was effusive in her praise of Henry's acting, both on the stage, and afterwards in the hotel. While Cecile went to make a pot of tea, she began a detailed analysis of each scene of the play as it had been performed in the afternoon and indicating just what changes she wanted for the morrow. Henry's original question about the impersonation outside the theatre was brushed off until last. "How long do you have to impersonate Henrietta Henson?" she repeated. "First of all, off stage you are not impersonating anyone. Henrietta Henson is the stage name we chose for you. You can hardly be accused of impersonating yourself." "It's certainly impersonation to pretend I am a woman." "Don't think of it that way. You're just dressing as an actress is expected to dress." "I can't promise to keep that up for very long." "Don't fret about it. Just take it one day at a time. Cecile has been given the full-time job of caring for you. She will see that nothing goes wrong." Henry did not find the discussion very reassuring, but had more or less resigned himself to doing what they required of him. He knew that he was being paid far more than he could earn in any other occupation, and he recognized that this was a golden opportunity to get started in the theatre. Reluctantly he gave his promise that at least for the present he would cooperate fully. Cecile returned with a tray of tea and cookies which they shared before Helen's departure. Henry was unaware of the crushed pill which Cecile had slipped in his cup before adding the tea and cream. When Helen had gone Cecile took him back to the bedroom to show him how to clean off his makeup and how to wash out his pantyhose. She suggested also that he should wash out his panties, but did not stay to supervise while he did so. He crawled between the silk sheets of his bed, still wearing the peach nightdress and without removing his bra. A persistent erection kept him awake for a long time. Chapter Seven Henry wakened early next morning, but it took several minutes for him to recognize the room he was in and to remember the events of yesterday. As his consciousness returned he found it a renewed delight to shift his position and feel his satin gown slide smoothly between the silk sheets. He reached up with his hands to feel the twin lumps on his breast formed by his padded bra. Rising to go to the bathroom he found it a further delight to slip into his satin robe and slide his feet into the matching satin slippers. The view of himself as he passed the dressing table mirror prompted him to take the wig from its form and place it back on his head. When he finished on the toilet, (he had sat to protect the skirt of his gown), he retrieved his now dry panties from the towel bar and drew them into place to offer some restraint for a threatened erection. Hearing no sound from Cecile, he decided to look in the kitchen for something to eat. The refrigerator contained eggs and bacon so he located a frying pan and turned on a top element of the stove. He had just located the butter when Cecile came into the room. "Good morning, Etta," she greeted him from behind. He turned to see that she also was dressed in her housecoat. She stepped forward and surprised him by touching her lips to his. "You make a very inviting picture this morning," she added. "You're very attractive yourself," he responded, more aware of her genuine charms in this relaxed atmosphere than he had been during the previous hectic day. She handed him an apron to protect his gown, and donned one herself. Then together they prepared breakfast. Afterwards they sat drinking coffee. "This morning we can relax," she told him, "We don't have to be at the theatre before two in the afternoon and then only to redo a couple of scenes for Helen. You won't even be in costume. That will only come when we go back to the theatre at six to prepare for the grand opening." "You forget," he laughed, "I'm in costume now." Pleased by his relaxed manner and evident intention of giving full cooperation today, she suggested that they spend the morning teaching him how to make up his own face, and some mannerisms he might employ to further reinforce his feminine image. "You can take your shower and shave while I load the dishwasher and get dressed myself," she finished. Over an hour of that morning was spent with Henry seated before the dressing table practising the application of facial cosmetics. Wearing a fresh bra after his shower, but otherwise clad in the same nightdress and robe, he learned about foundation, blusher, eye shadow, and mascara. More time was spent learning to roll his own hair in curlers and even some in tweezing a few errant hairs, previously missed by Cecile, from his brows. Having reached the decision that he would continue in the role of Henrietta, he intended to spare no effort in perfecting his techniques. In addition to that conscious decision however, was the fact that he enjoyed what he was doing.. His feelings of guilt submerged under the coercive nature of his assignment, he threw himself wholeheartedly into the task. Cecile showed him through the cupboards and drawers, in which the wardrobe prepared for his use had been stored, and encouraged him to make his own choice for the day. He chose matching undies with lots of lace trim, under a plain white silk blouse, and a pleated knee- length dark blue skirt. She confirmed that she thought his choice very suitable for the afternoon rehearsal. It was Henry himself who suggested that it would be helpful if he had his ears pierced. In keeping with his new character, he also joined Cecile in tidying the apartment and making the beds, and at mid-day helped in the kitchen to prepare lunch. After the dishes had been placed in the dishwasher, they spent some time choosing which items he should carry in his purse. When they set out for the theatre, it was as two smartly but tastefully dressed young women. 'Henrietta' wore open-toed pumps through which polish to match 'her' fingernails gleamed through a thin nylon mesh. 'Her' coat was stylishly cut, but of cloth rather than fur. With the striking wig replaced by her own neatly combed and curled hair, 'she' had definitely dressed 'down' from the lavish image of the night previous. At the theatre that afternoon Henry acted quite relaxed and friendly to all. He did not hide out in his dressing room, but circulated freely. He remembered to call everyone by name and insisted that several of the lesser players and crew members call him 'Etta' rather than 'Miss Henson'. In contrast to William Adams, he set an example for the others by his ready willingness to obey Helen's stage directions. Any questions he raised were designed for clarification rather than argumentation. Both Helen and Cecile were more than delighted by how he handled his unscripted 'offstage' role. It could not have been better done if they had been able to anticipate every interaction with others and design his words and gestures in advance. Somehow he had become that one crucial person in the cast who helped everyone to cope with the nervous tension induced by the impending opening. When the cast was dismissed at four, Henry and Cecile returned to her apartment. He was reluctant to obey her order to lie down and rest, in advance of the evening ordeal, but he did sleep soundly for about thirty minutes. Cecile rationed him to a glass of milk for supper and personally took charge of his makeup and wardrobe for the return to the theatre. The paisley silk dress and flashier jewellery she chose for him, along with the blond wig and fox fur coat were all intended to emphasize the star status dictated by his role in the play. This time they went directly to his dressing room without lingering for small talk with other players, and Cecile began at once to costume him for the first act. He had genuine butterflies in his stomach as he answered the call to take his place for scene one. He had acted only as an amateur before and had never played to a house of this size. There was no time for introspection though as the play got under way, and he soon forgot himself as he worked to bring his character to life for the audience. Between acts he was kept so busy with costume changes that he had no time to brood. He himself thought that he handled the climactic scene better than before, when he found himself wrapped in William's arms for that dreaded kiss. Still he yielded nothing to William's effort to turn it into a real kiss. The audience's response of calling the cast back for three curtain calls left everyone feeling elated. Henry joined in as cast members congratulated each other by hugging and kissing. Then it was back to the dressing room to be prepared by Cecile for a late night restaurant visit with the rest of the cast and that long nervous wait for the evening papers containing the critics' evaluations, so critical to the success or failure of the play. Henry, not having eaten before the production, found it an advantage to be able to order a full course meal. The wine had less effect on him and he was occupied with something other than small talk and speculation while they waited so anxiously. When the final verdict was in, he, no less than the others, breathed a sigh of relief. The play was described as a competent production, William Adams as an able professional who knew his trade, and Henrietta Henson as a bright new face who should rise far in theatre circles. 'Henrietta' found herself surrounded by members of the cast and the public, all wanting to offer congratulations. After a few poses for news photographers, with William and with other members of the cast, Henry and Cecile were able to escape to a taxi and return to her apartment. It required discipline on his part to complete the ritual of removing makeup and dressing for the night. Tired as he was, he scarcely had time to reflect on the events of the day. He was asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow. Chapter Eight After only two days and two nights of his incredible acting experience, Henry wakened to his third day with an almost take-it-for-granted attitude. Having encountered no real difficulty whatsoever in passing himself off as female, he recognized clearly that he was enjoying this novel adventure. After a moment of squirming in the bed for the sheer sensual ecstasy of feeling the silk about his body, he rose to don his satin robe and slippers as naturally as if that were how he had always dressed. Not that his pleasure was reduced by the routine nature of his actions. Yesterday, though he had hidden his feelings, he had still felt a bit of resentment about the coercion which had been used to place him in this situation. Today he retained no reservations and even felt in a vague sort of way that it had been his own idea. Certainly, he had consciously decided to continue in this role for the duration of the play's run. Following breakfast he made up his own face under Cecile's direction. After using the blow dryer to set the curls rolled into his hair, he again chose a modest skirt and blouse to wear over his ultra-feminine underthings. His preparations were completed with a final brushing of his hair and the application of lipstick, before he donned his cloth coat for a shopping expedition with Cecile. Oh how he enjoyed selecting the additional items suggested by Cecile for his wardrobe! That included a compact and a supply of the cosmetics they had found most effective. There was additional underclothing to choose, panties, bras, girdles, camisoles, half slips, and full slips. He tried on numerous dresses, but only one was purchased, a red crepe with a net overskirt and a low back. Of course it required colour coordinated lingerie as well. In the jewellery department it was his own idea to have his ears pierced, so when they sat down for lunch in the department store cafeteria, a gold stud in each lobe had already replaced the clip-on earrings which he had worn from the apartment. Cecile had readily agreed that she could conceal them with the wig for his stage appearances. They were able to continue shopping during most of the afternoon because no matinee was planned for this first Saturday and they were not due at the theatre until about six p.m. At that time Helen would give any instructions about changes to be made arising from the experience gained during the previous performance. That night's performance felt less hectic after the worries of opening night. The play was again well received, as witness the demand for curtain calls. Afterwards Henry and Cecile proceeded directly home. He was in bed asleep by midnight. Sunday was a relaxing day. With no performance scheduled they were able to lounge about the apartment all morning. In the afternoon a miniskirted 'Henrietta' accompanied her friend on a visit to the zoo. Henry's feminine education was enriched as Cecile explained how to deal with unwanted male attention as they strolled along the paths. He had ample opportunity that afternoon to practise what Cecile had preached. On the way home they stopped at the library, where he borrowed several books on Cecile's card. Mostly he chose mysteries, but one was a how-to about hair styles. He helped with the supper preparations and they spent the evening together in the living room, alternately reading, watching television, and just chatting. He required no help in preparing for bed. The pattern of his days was pretty well set in that first week. His daily activities did not vary very much. There was always time taken up with dressing, makeup, and setting his hair, but he quickly learned to do these things without help. He and Cecile were always together, at first because of the risk of him being accidentally exposed, but later just because they liked each other's company. They shared meal preparation, shopped for groceries together, visited art galleries and museums, and in general just lived the life of single girls in the big city. For the daily trip to the theatre he had to dress up to the hilt in one of his sexiest dresses and wear his fur. For each performance Cecile took complete charge of his costume and makeup, and certainly saw to it that he had that 'femme fatale' look as he exited the theatre after a performance. By the end of the second week 'Henrietta' was being stopped outside the theatre and asked for her autograph. At other times he tried to present a more modest appearance and avoid public notice. This became more difficult when his hair grew longer and Cecile took him to a beauty salon for a permanent. When he emerged from this venture into the inner sanctum of femininity, his own hair had been coloured and styled as an almost exact match for the wig he had been wearing to and from the theatre. The wig was no longer necessary, but it became more difficult for him to conceal his identity. He began to encounter autograph seekers in other places than the theatre. One other development resulted from his visit to the beauty salon. While there he saw an ad for the removal of unwanted hair, and it occurred to him that he could save considerable time if he did not have to shave his light beard twice daily. Cecile was delighted with his suggestion that he visit an electrologist, but conscientiously reminded him that if he carried out the idea, he would remain beardless even after this present adventure ended. He decided that this could be an advantage even for a male. After two months of daily visits to the apartment by a hair removal specialist, he was able to dispense with razor and shaving cream. An electric shaver sufficed for his legs and underarms. On occasion Henry had to comply with the orders from the producer and director to be seen in popular night spots. On such occasions, usually immediately after a performance, he allowed himself to be escorted by William Adams. On the following day the gossip columns always carried speculation about a romance between 'Etta' and 'Bill'. As this was good publicity for the play, the outings were always financed by the producer. Henry detested being wined and dined by the sexually aggressive William, but no other suitable escort was available. Invariably there was a contest of wills at his door as William tried to parlay a ritual good night into a French kiss, with the object of having his date invite him to stay for the night. Naturally 'Henrietta' was most uncooperative in this regard and resisted all his endeavours to initiate a sexual relationship. William retaliated by trying to start a rumour that Henrietta was a frigid lesbian. Recognizing that there was a lack of natural attraction between his star performers, at least on the part of Henrietta, the producer began to arrange for them to be seen both separately and together, with stars from other Broadway productions. Henry made himself always a friendly and cheerful companion, but no long term friendships developed, and several male stars were surprised and disappointed that their famous sex appeal failed to charm Henrietta into bed. Every obligatory social outing ended with Henry, sometimes with badly smeared lipstick, entering the apartment alone, to relax with Cecile over a pot of tea. She always offered a sympathetic ear as he related his difficulties with various escorts. Without Henry fully realizing what was going on behind the scenes, he had, at Helen's insistence, acquired an agent during the first week of his employment. The latter arranged for him to make occasional public appearances at fund raising events, where he would be called upon to give his endorsement of the particular worthy cause. As Henrietta's visibility increased the agent was able to negotiate an increase in his contract beyond what Helen had originally been authorized by the producer to offer. Among his other duties the agent arranged for publicity photos of this rising star to be taken, and took care of sending out autographed copies as a response to the increasing number of fan letters received. Henry was not overly pleased that, on a free night when he had persuaded Cecile to accompany him to a basketball game, he was recognized and introduced to the crowd over the public address system. There was an appreciative buzz of applause from the crowd when he waved as the spotlight centered on him. The agent however was more than satisfied to learn of this evidence that his publicity campaign was working. One morning as Henry was examining his smooth, hairless and scented body before stepping into the shower, he became aware of slight swelling in his chest area. In the course of a week the swellings enlarged until he had the definite impression of budding breasts. Suspicious of the cause he decided to confront Cecile. He wrapped a towel around his hips and called her into the bathroom. "Have you been slipping something into my food?" he asked suspiciously. She was expecting the question and to his great surprise answered affirmatively. "Yes, but what prompts you to ask?" "Look at my chest." She reached out tentatively to run her hand across his nipples. The effect on Henry was instantly erotic. He felt the nipples respond by stiffening and projecting forward. Between his legs an erection sprang into being and pushed out the front of the towel. Unable to speak he sat down suddenly on the toilet seat, in an attempt to hide his arousal. Cecile stepped forward and continued to feel the expanded flesh with her hand. "I hope you're not angry with me for not telling you. It was Helen who decided. She said it would help to calm your nerves as you adjusted to your role." "But it's giving me breasts," "According to the drug company's pamphlet, that is a perfectly natural effect. Also it's completely reversible when you stop taking the pills. I'll get it for you to read after you're dressed." He did not reply immediately, but sat there absorbing the new sensation as she continued her soft caress. She wondered what was going on in his mind. Finally he spoke again without revealing his thoughts, "I guess I'll take my shower now. I'll meet you in the living room as soon as I'm through, so you can show me the paper." Relieved that he had not spoken angrily to her, she left the room. It was nearly an hour later that a fully dressed and made up Henry, or 'Henrietta', sat in a living room chair, nylon covered ankles crossed, to read the drug prescription paper. After skimming through it twice he asked, "How come you have these pills if I didn't visit the doctor?" "Bob Williams, Helen's husband, is a doctor." "You mean he was willing to prescribe without seeing me!" "She had a hard time persuading him, but after all he is her husband. I have had to make weekly reports. We promised to take you in to see him as soon as you show signs that the pills are working. I guess the time for that has come. Anyway you had the last pill yesterday. If you are going to continue we will need a new prescription." Henry was not quite sure what to think. Should he continue the pills until he possessed a full set of female breasts? What would he do after this role finished if they took some time to disappear and he wanted to dress as a normal male? A new thought came into his mind that he knew would require a lot of pondering. Did he even want to resume his male identity? Would he actually prefer to have this fairy tale continue indefinitely? But sexual satisfaction, how could he achieve that if he continued this masquerade? He certainly could not get it from a male friend. He was turned off by homosexuality. Besides a homosexual would probably be turned off by his very femininity. The worst part of his present imposture was having to accept ritual kisses both on stage and as he thanked an escort. It had been 'Oh, so very exciting!' to have Cecile fondle his budding breasts. Could he find a girl friend who would accept his feminized condition? They visited the Doctor's office that very afternoon. If any doubt remained in Henry's mind about accepting a continuing supply of the pills, it was probably eliminated by his reception from Dr. Williams. The latter addressed him throughout as 'Miss Henson', and acted as if it were the most natural thing in the world to examine a patient bearing all the outward signs of femininity but having male equipment. All the questions Henry could think to ask, and a few that did not occur to him received a clear and courteous response. They stopped at a drugstore to refill the prescription. His relationship with Cecile was unchanged except that now he carried his pills in his purse and accepted the responsibility for taking them. She no longer had to furtively crush them and drop them into his tea. She confided to him, "I can hardly wait to see that lush body of yours in a bikini." Chapter Nine Henry enjoyed shopping for new bras as his bosom expanded to double A, then A, and finally to B cup size. He was less inclined to display his naked chest in front of Cecile and did not invite her to accompany him to the change room while he tried the new bras for fit. The incident of her caressing his bare breasts was not repeated. Five months had now passed and plans were being made to end the play's run after one more month. Everyone now knew their parts perfectly, and all the suggested variations of the scenes had already been tried, so Helen, the director, had very little work to do. She was now reading other scripts, in preparation for choosing a play for a summer on the road and hopefully the fall season. 'Henrietta Henson' had created a name for herself on the New York stage and could anticipate further roles if she chose to continue her theatrical career. The time of decision for Henry was rapidly approaching. Now beardless, and with the expanded chest and hips of the young woman he purported to be, he was racked by doubts about his future. He had written home regularly to his widowed mother about his adventures in the theatre, but had not revealed to her, either the size of his considerable income, or the actual role he played both on and off the stage. He had mastered that role so well that it now felt perfectly natural to him. At the same time he was also becoming more and more frustrated sexually. He longed for a loving relationship with a girl, but how could that develop when he himself looked so genuinely feminine? There seemed no answer to his dilemma. He put off giving an answer to his agent, who was now pressing for authority to sign him to a contract for the next season. He dithered about the matter right up to the final week of the present production, much preferring to think about how he would dress for the dinner dance party that the cast was planning for the final weekly break of the season. When the time of the party finally arrived, the producer himself and one of the backers of the play arrived to escort Henrietta and Cecile to the party. 'Henrietta' had never looked lovelier. From the top of her blond head to the open toes of her dancing slippers she simply oozed sexiness. Her off-the-shoulder sheath gown was cut low to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of cleavage. Her narrow waist was emphasized by the close fit of the deep rose satin. Only the side slit up to her left knee made it possible for her to walk. Genuine pearls, in her necklace and pendant earrings, helped to set off an exquisitely made up face, and a gauze like silk stole covered her bare shoulders. There could be no rival as the prettiest girl at the party. Her escort was enchanted. Henry could also truthfully say that he had never before seen Cecile quite so beautifully turned out. Tonight the tall girl was particularly careful to present herself at her best. She had an agenda all of her own. While her black velvet pantsuit with its white satin blouse did not announce her as a 'femme fatale' it did show her figure to advantage. She chose both the suit and her carefully understated makeup, particularly so that there would be no question of her outshining Henrietta, Queen of the Ball. Nevertheless no man could fail to be impressed. With his fox fur draped over his shoulders like a cape, and with his beaded clutch purse in one hand, Henry took his escort's proffered arm and was led to the elevator and downstairs to be installed in the car. At the entrance to the ballroom, cameras flashed as he was paraded into the building and led to the checkroom. They sat at a table with Helen and her husband, as well as William Adams, squiring one of the show's female sponsors. The men hastened to the bar to bring back drinks, while their dates greeted each other, and looked around the room to nod to other friends and acquaintances. Henry's escort was an excellent dancer and he thoroughly enjoyed being spun about the floor on his partner's arm. With the practice he had had in the past months, his three inch stiletto heels caused him no difficulty whatsoever. He was asked to dance also by each of the other men at the table as well as by several members of the cast and crew so he was kept active almost the whole of the evening. Only William Adams offended him by trying to dance cheek to cheek. The whole gathering sat down to an extravagant dinner at ten-thirty, after which there were speeches and toasts. Finally they returned to the ballroom for another hour of dancing. Henry relished the whole affair to the fullest. Relaxed and secure in his role, he was happier than at any time in the past six months. At one in the morning, when he regretfully suggested it was time to go, his escort hastened to collect his coat. He and Cecile were squired back to the car and returned to the door of their apartment. Still somewhat light-headed from his intake of wine Henry found no difficulty in responding appropriately to the ritual good night kiss from his escort. Cecile, watching him over the shoulder of her partner as she was kissed good night, had drunk less wine and was not totally pleased to see the abandon with which he seemed to welcome