Nikki runs out of luck
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Nikki, Part 7 free porn video
"God, this should not be this hard," I complain as I sit in front of my
dresser, staring at my anxious (but impeccably made-up) reflection.
"You've taken bigger steps that this before, much bigger steps," Sarah
reminds me, wrapping her arms around my shaking body. And she's right- I
have.
Ever since coming out to my parents two weeks ago I've been practically
shouting my new gender from the rooftops. My Facebook profile page has
been suitably altered with photos of Nikki taking pride of place and
photos of Nick being consigned to history. My friends were... Shocked, to
say the least. There was a lot of teasing- some of it quite unpleasant,
at first- but once it became clear that I was being deadly serious I
began receiving near-universal support (Sarah threatening to kick ass
helped, too!). Yes, I lost a few friends as a result of coming out. But
frankly, anybody who can't accept me for who I truly am doesn't deserve
to call themselves my friend. A lot of people have helped out by sending
me links to transgender help pages and interviews with famous TG people,
like Jamie-Lee Burke.
My bedroom's changed dramatically- it's now painted in a warm fuchsia
colour, with additional wardrobe and drawer space for clothes, and a
large dressing table on which I can do my make-up every morning (dad got
that first and assembled it the same day, saying he didn't want to have
to wait to use the bathroom!). I've been adding clothes and cosmetics
too, but only on an as-needed basis. The black denim skirt and pink tank
top I'm wearing now were part of my original 'collection' brought from
Sarah's house, as is the dark nail polish on all twenty of my nails.
Obviously, I've been diligently following my hormone replacement
schedule. I've been told not to expect instant results- it's not a simple
case of 'if you could take a pill tomorrow that turns you into a girl',
but by the time I start college in September I should start to see subtle
changes in my body, changes that are taking agonisingly long to make
themselves known.
But fortunately, through all of this upheaval, I still have my parents.
Every day, the parent-daughter relationship comes more and more naturally
to all three of us. Even though the summer's getting hotter with every
day that passes, I'm still getting told off every time I try to go
outside in a skirt or shorts that dad deems to short, and mum's told me
off for excessive make-up on more than one occasion- but then again,
she's asked me for make-up tips more than once, too!
Most importantly of all, however, I still have Sarah. She is truly my
rock, and whilst our sexual activities have, if anything, dwindled, we're
spending more and more time together, especially over our three-month
summer holiday. Sarah and Beverly are off abroad on holiday again this
year- a week in Greece this time- but fortunately it's not until the end
of July, giving me plenty of 'Sarah time' until we're separated for that
week.
"Nikki!" Dad calls from downstairs, startling me and sending my nerves
into overdrive.
"Oh god," I whimper, sniffing back tears.
"Remember!" Sarah says, cradling my head in her hands. "You are Nicola
Thomas. The law says so. Your doctors say so. Your parents say so, I say
so, and most importantly of all, YOU say so. So go down there, hold your
head high and force them to recognise you as such!" Still shaking with
nerves, I nod and slowly descend the stairs into the living room, where
my parents, and more notably, THEIR parents are all waiting for me.
"Hi nanna, granddad," I say nervously, waving at the four pensioners sat
in my living room.
"No," granddad Steven- my father's father- growls angrily. "I'm not
taking this! Come on Irene, we're leaving!" Before I can say a word in
protest, the elderly couple storm out of the house, clamming the front
door and not even acknowledging me with a backward glance as they do so.
Devastated, I turn to my two remaining grandparents, desperate for their
approval.
"Nanna Jean?" I ask, my terror apparent in my voice. "Granddad Bill?"
Much to my dismay, my grandfather simply shakes his head and look away,
the sight of me clearly so offensive that it's causing him actual pain.
"Nick," nanna says dejectedly, "why have you done this to yourself?"
"It- it's who I really am," I explain.
"But you were such a handsome young boy," nanna complains, seemingly
unable or unwilling to consider my feelings. "Won't you just stop this
all and turn back into a boy?" With tears in my eyes, I shake my head.
"I'm not a boy," I whimper. "I'm a girl." Granddad Bill- clearly badly
hurt by my decision- simply shakes his head again and stands up,
deliberately directing his gaze away from me.
"I think we should leave too," he says, taking his wife's hand and
leaving the house, though less dramatically than my other grandparents
had. Stunned, I stand in the middle of the living room, my heart reeling
from the rejection.
"Nikki," mum says comfortingly, wrapping me in a tight, motherly hug and
allowing me to bawl my eyes out into her shoulder.
"Sarah!" Dad yells. "Get down here!" Almost instantly, my girlfriend is
by my side, leading me to the sofa and holding me tight, not letting go
until the pain subsides...
Thirty minutes pass, and I don't move from my seat on the sofa. I've
stopped crying, but my perfect girl's life has hit its first major snag,
and it feels like I've been hit by a wrecking ball.
"Am- am I really that-" I ask, my voice still quivering and interrupted
with sobs.
"NO!" Sarah says angrily, cutting me off before I can finish my sentence.
"Unless you were going to say 'am I really that beautiful and wonderful',
then the answer is no," mum says in agreement.
"They'll come round," dad reassures me. "This is a lot for them to take
in but they're not idiots, they're not completely shut off from the world
and they know that people like- people in your-" Dad stutters, trying to
find a way to finish his sentence that won't cause me undue offence.
"What your dad's trying to say is that you are a perfectly normal girl,"
mum says, even though I know she's not 100% sincere with what she's
saying.
"We all know I'm not," I whisper. "But I appreciate what you're trying to
say."
"'Trying' being the operative word," dad jokes, placing a loving arm
around me. "I've got used to the idea of having a daughter. And you know
what? I love having a daughter. And they'll grow to love having a
granddaughter. It just probably came as too big a shock for them to take
in in one go."
"I think someone could use some pampering to cheer herself up," mum says
with a smile. "Didn't you say that you had plans with Sarah today?"
"It's nothing we can't put off, if you're not feeling up to it," Sarah
says softly, linking her fingers with mine.
"No," I say defiantly. "You know what? Some pampering sounds really,
really good right now." Sarah grins and gives me a big, tight hug,
cheekily playing with my bra strap out of sight of my parents!
An hour later, I'm sat on a reclining chair in a sterile room, anxiously
awaiting my 'treatment'. Sarah's sat beside my chair, holding my hand
supportively.
"You will feel a short, sharp pain," the man who'll be conducting my
'treatment' explains. "It won't last long." I nod as the man rubs an
antiseptic swab over my earlobe, then positions his scary-looking
contraption over the body part and squeezes it shut. I'm slightly
startled by the sensation of the sharp metal entering my body, but once
it's in place it begins to feel normal, even welcome. Within 30 seconds
my other earlobe receives the same treatment, and I've given a mirror to
inspect the new gold studs in my ears.
"You may experience some bleeding," the piercer explains. "It'll stop
within a few days. If it persists, consult a doctor, but I highly doubt
you have any problems."
"Cool," I say, still grinning widely at my earrings.
"Now, the other thing we discussed?" Sarah asks, smiling wickedly and
forcibly taking my place in the chair!
"If you're 100% sure," the piercer advises, at which Sarah nods eagerly,
lifting her top. Less than a minute later, my girlfriend has a gold stud
poking through the top of her navel!
"I've got enough money for you if you want one too," Sarah tells me with
a coy smile. I hesitate a little- it's one things to get my ears pierced,
but this could get me in a LOT of trouble... Then again, I am sixteen,
legally I can choose what I do with my body...
I mirror Sarah's devilish grin and playfully shove her out of the chair,
sitting down and lifting my top. Within seconds, the piercer has swabbed
my navel with his antiseptic wipe and pushed a brand-new sterile needle
through it before fitting it with a gold stud of its very own.
"Aww, you are the best girlfriend ever!" Sarah says, giving me a tight
hug.
"Mind the belly!" I warn, not wanting my new, sensitive piercing to get
any pressure on it.
"Those will be sensitive for a bit longer," the piercer advises, clearly
entertained by the presence of two excitable teenaged girls.
"One last thing," I ask the piercer, "could you get a photo of the two of
us, please?" The piercer laughs and nods, taking Sarah's smartphone and
photographing the two of us with our tops lifted, showing off our new
bejeweled bellies.
"You are going to get in soooo much trouble," Sarah teases as we enter
her house.
"Whatever," I say dismissively. "I already avoided a bollocking for
wearing thongs, and those hot pants we got last September. It's my body,
I get to decide what to do with it. And in fairness, it's not like it's
the most extreme thing I plan on doing with my body..."
"Very true," Sarah says, surprising me with a quick kiss. "You know, we
DO have the house to ourselves, mum isn't due back until after 5..." I
grin widely as I immediately cotton on to what Sarah's implying, and we
soon find ourselves in her bedroom, stripping each other off...
Twenty minutes later, our bodies still tingling, we head downstairs,
Sarah carrying her laptop.
"What was it you so badly needed to show me that ISN'T a part of your
body?" I ask, playfully grabbing a handful of Sarah's soft buttock.
"Do you remember when you first tried on my gymnastics leotard?" Sarah
asks. "I mentioned that I'd stopped doing ballet some years ago, but I'd
be willing to start again if you'd come with me? I've been thinking about
it long and hard-" Sarah playfully probes a hand underneath my skirt as
she says this, making us both giggle- "and I've found a new studio that's
opened that caters for adult beginners. What do you think?" Whilst the
idea of being a ballerina is, understandably, exciting, a part of me is
apprehensive- I'm not much of a performer, not by a long stretch. Sarah,
however, is more than comfortable in front of an audience, as her time on
the school's gymnastics team more than proved.
"I dunno," I say, to my girlfriend's clear disappointment. "I'd kinda
feel silly dancing around like a little kid."
"I did say ADULT beginners," Sarah repeats firmly. "If anything we'd
probably be the youngest there. And we wouldn't be wearing big, pink
frilly tutus either, the dress code simply says a black leotard or tank
top and any colour tights or leggings with a black dance skirt on top.
It'd be a good way to get fit AND improve your posture at the same time."
"How much would it cost?" I ask, warming to Sarah's idea.
"Not much at all, much less than you're making from your paper round,"
Sarah says with a smile. "And we can go along for a free taster lesson to
see whether or not we like it." I roll my eyes and smile- Sarah's clearly
got her heart set on this. She must have been missing her gymnastics team
more than I thought...
"And you're happy learning everything again from scratch?" I ask.
"As long as I'm learning it with you, I'm more than happy," Sarah says,
giving me a soft, loving kiss.
"Then I guess we're both ballerina girlfriends," I say with a smile,
causing Sarah to cheer and give me a long, tight hug.
Three days later, Beverly drops us off at the door of the ballet studio,
the two of us dressed identically in black spaghetti-strapped leotards
over tight black leggings, with flimsy dance skirts preserving our
modesty. Our hair is scraped back into severe ponytails, and on our feet
are leather dancing shoes. I'm not wearing my breast forms today- they'd
just get in the way, more than anything- but the leotard I'm wearing does
have a pinched front, giving the illusion of a tiny amount of cleavage.
"I... feel silly," I confess to Sarah as we ring the doorbell.
"GOOD," Sarah says, poking her tongue out at me. "Embrace that feeling,
the more you let yourself go the more fun you'll have!" We're quickly
buzzed into the building, where we come face-to-face with our dance
teacher- and she's nothing like what I was expecting.
"Hi!" The young, tall- at 5' 8", even taller than me- blonde woman greets
us with a warm smile. "You must me Nikki and Sarah, I've been dying to
meet you both!"
"...And you're Miss Fullerton?" Sarah asks, clearly taken aback by the
teacher's warm, friendly approach.
"Oh please," Miss Fullerton says dismissively. "My 6 year old students
call me 'Miss Fullerton', you can call me Krystie."
"Nice to meet you, Krystie," I say, daintily shaking the elegant woman's
hand. "I'm Nikki, this is Sarah. I... I take it you understand about
my... 'situation'?"
"If by 'situation' you mean 'some people think that you're not really a
girl', then yes," Krystie explains. "But whatever! You're here to dance,
and if you say you're a girl, who am I to disagree?" Both Sarah and I
grin widely as we follow Krystie into the studio where the other new
students are waiting for us. As Sarah promised, we're by far the youngest
there- most of the other women are in their later twenties or early
thirties, with a few even older than that.
The lesson passes off very smoothly. Krystie is obviously an excellent
teacher, keeping the lesson moving but not pushing us harder than we're
capable of going, and at the end of the hour of exercises I feel ready to
do the whole thing over again! I'm especially pleased when Krystie comes
up to myself and Sarah afterwards, complimenting us on our performance.
"You two were so good!" Krystie says with a wide smile on her face. "Are
you sure you've never taken ballet before?"
"...Only when I was very young," Sarah confesses. "Not for several years
now."
"...Very first ever lesson," I say with a confident smile.
"Well you are seriously very good," Krystie continues. "I reckon you
could even be ready for pointe in less than 18 months if you keep at it,
maybe even dance on stage!" Sarah and I both giggle at our new teacher's
positive remarks. "On a related note, have the two of you ever considered
modelling, either as a career or maybe a side job whilst at college?"
"I dunno," I say, shaking my head. "Isn't 'transsexual model' a bit of a
clich??"
"Hey!" Krystie says with mock-hurt. "One of my very best friends is a
transsexual model, and she's no clich?! Seriously, I'm a model myself,
and I know potential when I see it. I can give you the details of my
agent, he has several under-18s on his books and he'd be happy to talk to
you and your parents about any work he can send your way. Just... think
it over." With that, Krystie has hastily scribbled down a mobile phone
number and a web address on a piece of paper and sent us on our way,
considering the new opportunities life seems to keep thrusting into our
hands.
I arrive home full of optimism, eager to study the literature Krystie
gave me as part of the 'welcome pack'. When I see my parents' faces,
however, my own face drops.
"Nikki," dad says softly. "Could you sit down, please?"
"Wh-what's happened?" I ask, my anxiety increasing rapidly.
"Your mother and I..." Dad begins, causing several worse-case scenarios
to run through my mind. ...Are getting a divorce? ...Have decided I
should stop being a girl? ...Are forbidding you from seeing Sarah ever
again?
"...We're being investigated by social services," mum says with a heavy
heart.
"What!?" I ask incredulously.
"My parents- your grandparents- called them," dad explains. "Apparently
they feel we're unfit parents for allowing you to live your life the way
you want to live it, and feel that we're somehow endangering you."
"You're not endangering me," I retort, my volume raising with anger,
"you're empowering me! I've never felt as happy as I've been these last
few weeks! And to prove it-" I withdraw Krystie's agent's card from my
'welcome pack'- "I got a job offer today from a modelling agency!" Mum
smiles at this unexpected turn of events.
"Nikki!" Mum says with clear delight in her voice. "That's amazing news!"
"Are you allowed to sign with an agency if you're under 18?" Dad asks,
clearly eager for some good news after his earlier bad news.
"Well..." I confess, realising I'd got carried away with myself. "It's
not actually a job 'offer', but my ballet teacher is also a model and
says she can get me- us- an interview with her agent if we'd like."
"...And would you like that, Nikki?" Mum asks sincerely.
"...You know, I don't know," I confess. "I mean, it would be good money,
and I have modelled before- for Sarah..."
"Don't make any quick decisions," dad advises. "Especially if we're going
to have a visit from social services, what we need is to show that all
three of us are acting calmly and putting a lot of thought into
everything we do." I nod- once again, dad has hit the nail on the head.
"Anyway, that's enough about that," mum says with an eager smile. "Tell
me about ballet! It's been years since I was last in a dance studio, what
did you learn?"
"Yeah," dad agrees, "come on, twinkle toes! You're wearing your costume,
show us a couple of steps!" I roll my eyes and describe my lesson to my
parents, trying to focus on the positive in my life, but at the back of
my mind, the impending visit from social services has me worried. And
more than just that- it has me ANGRY.
I barely sleep that night- whilst dad's right in that social services
almost certainly don't have any case to investigate- everything I've done
has been legal and backed up by registered doctors and counsellors-
there's this doubt at the back of my mind that says I may very soon end
up living with a different family- or worse yet, be forced back into the
life I hated by my grandparents. The only thing worse than someone trying
to force you to do something you don't want to do is when they truly
believe it's for your own good...
The following day I rise early- earning myself much teasing from dad- and
carefully pick my look for the day. After pulling on my favourite bra and
thong, I carefully pin my hair back, exposing my new earrings, and apply
a moderately thick layer of make-up- thick mascara and eyeliner, but pale
silver eye shadow and pink lipstick. I redo my nails in a dark pink, and
pick out the day's outfit- a knee-length dungaree-style dress with a
white crop top underneath. After pulling on a pair of thin black tights
and my new 2.5" heeled ankle booties, I grab my bag and head downstairs.
"Looking good, Nikki!" Mum compliments me as I head straight for the
front door.
"Where are you going this early?" Dad asks, previously amused but now
obviously concerned by my early start.
"Out," I say. "Sarah's."
"No, there's no way you're both up this early," dad says, getting up and
blocking me from leaving the house. "You're going to your grandparents',
aren't you?" Knowing I've been defeated, I put on my best pout.
"They need to see that this is what I need!" I whine, nearly stamping my
feet in frustration.
"And they will," dad reassures me, placing calming hands on my shoulders.
"You need to give them time. So what if social services come round?
They'll see two loving parents and their beautiful teenaged daughter
living normal, happy lives." I sigh- I know everything dad says is right,
but I can't help this burning desire I feel to right this wrong in my
life.
"Sit down, take a deep breath," dad says, parking me on the sofa as mum
hands me a much-needed cup of tea. "We will get through this. We will
still be a family. I promise." I sniffle as I sip my tea.
"Is it really too much to ask for," I whine self-pityingly, "to have
grandparents who love me for who I am?" Seeing I'm hurting inside, mum
sits down beside me and gives me a long, comforting hug.
"No, of course it isn't!" Mum says firmly. "This has really got you wound
up, hasn't it?"
"Uh-huh," I moan, still sniffling.
"Try to focus on the positives in your life," dad advises. "And you've
got so many! You've got Sarah, you've got us, you're off to college in
September, you've got your ballet, hell, you've even got a job offer!" I
smile as I remember the scrap of paper Krystie all but forced into my
hands yesterday.
"That's more like it," dad says at the sight of my grin. "So now that
you're not going to do anything silly, what do you want to do today?" I
grin as I remember an offer made on the day of my coming out.
"I believe I'm still owed a make-over?" I cheekily ask my mother, who
simply laughs and hugs me again.
"After all you've been through, you deserve one," mum concedes. "And yes,
Sarah can come too!"
Later that afternoon, I step out of the beauty salon feeling like a whole
new woman. As promised, my eyebrows have been reshaped from their usual
furry mess into chic, sleek arches, my nails have been shaped and
polished to perfection with a long-lasting pink-purple varnish that isn't
coming off any time soon, and my hair has been restyled to give it much
more volume, and with it a cute bounce with every step I take. My legs
have been waxed smooth, giving them a glossy shine even when completely
bare. Naturally, Sarah has received the same treatment, and is looking as
beautiful as I've ever seen her. And, of course, mum couldn't resist
treating herself to the same treatments as well!
"You know," I say, squeezing Sarah's hand on the car ride home," I really
do feel like I could be a fashion model. It's like- and I know this is
silly- before I wanted to be a girl. Now, I want to be a WOMAN."
"I can DEFINITELY agree with that," Sarah says, linking hands with me in
our 'special gesture'. "Woman love forever!"
"For ever and ever," I say with a smile, giving Sarah a quick kiss and
earning us both a reprimand from mum! Yeah, not everything's perfect in
my life, but dad's right- in the few weeks I've lived full-time as Nikki,
so many things have gone right, so many doors have been opened for me and
so many opportunities lie at my feet. I have so many positives to focus
on- it makes no sense to focus on the negatives. I WILL, with Sarah and
my parents' help, overcome any obstacle placed in my way, because I AM a
strong, smart woman. I am Nikki. Hear me roar!
Mckenna
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