Ryan's Story (Part 1) free porn video

Saturday evening. It had been a busy day at the shop. Ryan Baxter stood on the platform waiting for his train. It was a journey he had been making for a couple of months now, ever since he had got the job in Scene, a shop specialising in clothes for the younger crowd. The train would take him from the city centre to his home on the outskirts of town where he lived with his mother, Diane. As he stared around the station platform, watching his fellow travellers go to and fro, he mused on how his life had changed in the last couple of months. No more school, but instead, at sixteen, he had his first real job. It was not really what he wanted. He had expected to stay on at school, but his desire to help his mum and the family finances, meant taking a job as soon as possible. His mum had been upset and protested vehemently but deep down she knew the extra money would really help. He did enjoy the work, surrounded by young people, dealing with fashion, but, at sixteen, he was paid minimum wage. But still he was helping his mum pay the bills now and that made it worthwhile. Maybe in a few years he would be able to return to his education, but for now, needs must! As Ryan glanced up at the station clock to see that he still had a couple of minutes to wait before his train would arrive, he failed to notice a good looking, well dressed woman approach him, although his attention was finally drawn to her when she stopped a few feet away and seemingly stared directly at him. Not entirely sure what was happening, Ryan stared back for a few seconds before finding himself compelled to look away and return his gaze to the station clock. After a few seconds he became aware that she was moving beside him and he became aware that she was going to speak to him. He looked down from the clock, a spontaneous flash of admiration passing through his mind, and waited for her to speak. "Excuse me. I'm sorry for just approaching you like this, but I wonder if I could have a word with you?" The lady in front of him did not seem to present a threatening figure, so he agreed. "Yes, I suppose so." "Do you mind if I ask your age first?" Unsure why she asked this or where the conversation was going, Ryan hesitated, but decided to answer anyway. "I'm sixteen." Ryan looked along the line and saw his train appear. It would be at the platform in a another minute. I'm sorry. I don't know why you would want to speak to me, but my train is just arriving. I've only got a minute." "OK, I'll be really quick. My name is Susan Grant. Can I give you my business card please? I run a modelling agency and I'm just about to catch my train home too. I've noticed you a couple of times before, and to be honest, as soon as I first saw you, I knew you could be the person I've been looking for. I believe that there could be a future for you, modelling, with my company. And good money to be earned by both you and my agency. I run a well known, legitimate agency. Please google my company or me personally to find out about it and me. If you're comfortable with what you see and are interested to hear what I have to say, please give me a phone and we can arrange to have a longer chat". With that, Ryan's train pulled to a stop at the platform. Ryan stared at the card, not fully understanding what he had just heard, but he decided there was no harm in taking the card anyway. He tried to think of something non-committal in reply. "OK. I'll give it some thought." And with that Ryan took the card and boarded his train. As it pulled out of the station he couldn't help but cast an admiring but puzzled glance at Susan Grant as she headed along the platform, no doubt to catch her own train. The train was busy but Ryan was lucky, and he found a seat just beside the doors. He sat down and stared at the business card which he still held in his hand and tried to re run the conversation he had just had with Susan Grant. Something about modelling he remembered, and despite himself, he began to think that maybe there could be some extra money in this for him and his mum. Ryan's basic mobile phone was no good for the internet, so at the moment he was unable to investigate Susan Grant or her company, so eventually, baffled but intrigued, he put the card in his jacket pocket and decided to wait till he got home where he could use the house laptop and wi-fi to find out a little more. "How did your day go?" Diane Baxter shouted to her son as he came through the door. Their home was a small, unpretentious, but neat and tidy flat in a low rise block. She was not long in from her own work, in the offices of a small building company and had just began preparing dinner. "Fine." He had planned to do some research first but he couldn't stop himself spilling some of his story from his journey home. "Although something odd happened at the railway station when I was waiting for the train to come home." Diane immediately had a flicker of concern. Something "odd" might mean something "not good", but as she looked at Ryan, he did not seem upset or stressed in anyway, so, as that feeling subsided, she asked. "What was that then?" Ryan smiled at his mum. "Give me some time to check a few things out on the net, will you. And then I'll tell you. Don't worry. It's nothing bad." And with that he grabbed the laptop from where it lay on the kitchen table and headed for his bedroom. He placed the business card in front of him and checked the name one again for an accurate search. The agency was called Top Class Models, and Ryan typed this into the search box and added the name of his home town. In an instant, right at the top of the search results, was the link that took him to the company website. Immediately he could see it was a very professional and slick site, and after reading about their history, the type of customers they serviced, their ethos, testimonials, and then seeing pictures of their models and creative staff, he was convinced Top Class Models was indeed a thriving and respectable concern. A further search of Susan Grant revealed some interviews and reviews on business websites and links back to her agency. An image search even showed him pictures of the woman he had met that late afternoon. Ryan guessed that she would be in her mid to late thirties, and looking through the pictures, he thought that she could easily be one of the agency's models herself. At that, he heard his mum shout. "Dinner is on the table. C'mon and tell me about this 'odd' thing that happened at the station. You've got me intrigued." Ryan walked through to the kitchen where his mum had set two bowls of spaghetti bolognese on the small table. He sat down opposite his mum and pushed the business card across the table. "I was standing on the platform, when this lady," he nodded at the card, "came up to me and said that she thought that I could do some modelling for her company. She gave me this card and asked me to give her a call if I was interested." Diane's first thought that Ryan was not the vision of a male model that immediately sprung to her mind. He was slim built and fresh faced and with his longish shoulder length, muddy blonde hair, and not exactly macho. But guiltily, she quickly realised there was all types of modelling that required all types of people to do it. "Did she say what she had in mind? Give you any more information?" "No, not really. There wasn't any time. My train had arrived and was at the platform. I do remember her saying something about me being able to make good money and that's not something we could afford to ignore" "Oh, I'm not sure about this." "I've just done some research on the agency and Susan Grant and everything seems to be totally legit and professional. Mum, I don't see what I have to lose just giving her a call. If there is some extra money to be made it would be stupid not to at least think about it. Let me show you their website." No more was said for a few minutes as they finished their food, then Ryan fetched the laptop and found Top Class Models. Diane scrolled through the various pages of the site and turned to Ryan. "Yes, I agree. It looks like a proper, well run agency. I guess it's up to you. Like you said, I don't suppose there is anything to be lost by making a phone call." "OK, I'll give her a call when I get to work tomorrow." Being the junior member of staff, Ryan worked six day a week, including Sunday. Monday was generally his only full day off. His mum, on the other hand worked Monday to Friday and Saturday morning till 12pm. It meant that, at present they had little time during the day together. But it allowed them to survive, just! The rest of the evening they watched some television. No more was said about Top Class Models, though both of them wondered privately what if anything would come of tomorrow's call. Early Sunday morning was quiet in the shop, but Ryan waited for his first break at 10.30am to give the agency a call. There was two numbers on the business card, one he guessed was for the agency and the other, which was a mobile number, he assumed was Susan Grant's own phone. He wasn't sure if he would get a reply on a Sunday morning, but he decided to try the agency number first. Almost immediately his call was answered by a female voice. "Good morning. Top Class Models. Can I help you?" "Hello. My name is Ryan Baxter. I met Susan Grant and she gave me her card and asked me to phone her if I was interested in having a chat about some possible modelling she had in mind. I was wondering if she was available to have a word with at the moment?" "Yes. She is in her office. Hold on a second, will you, and I'll find out if she can speak to you now." And after a few more seconds, "I'll put you through to her now." "Hello, it's Susan Grant." Ryan repeated his introduction. "Hello. My name is Ryan Baxter. We met at the railway station yesterday and you asked me to give you a call if I was interested in having a longer chat with you about some modelling you had in mind. I wasn't sure if I would be able to contact you on a Sunday, but, well, I thought I'd try and give you a call anyway." "Yes, yes, of course. I'm really glad to hear from you so soon. I'm glad you called. And, by the way, a model agency is not a nine to five, Monday to Friday kind of place, so yes, I can often be found here, along with other staff, at the most unsocial times. Anyway, I'm hoping that since you've called me that your interested in trying your hand at modelling." "Well I'm interested to hear what you have in mind. I looked at your website last night then talked it over with my mother and we both decided that I should at least give you a call." "That's good to hear. I didn't expect to hear from you so soon. Obviously we didn't have enough time to establish if you were even interested or not, but I'm certainly glad you called. Also that you've spoken to your mother about this. That's good." "Well, to be honest, if there's a chance that I can earn a little extra money, it's something we have to consider." "You said a little extra money. Do you have a job already?" "Yes, I work in Scene, a clothes shop. I'm actually there now. I'm on my morning break. But I don't earn much, and since it's just my mum and me, any extra money would be a help." "I know Scene. You're just about a twenty minute walk through town to our offices. Listen I have an idea. Is your mother working today? Is she available?" "She does work, but she's at home just now. Maybe only out for some shopping." "When do you finish this afternoon?" "We close at five on a Sunday." "How about you come to my office after work. And if possible I would like to send a taxi to collect your mother from your home and bring her here. I think it would be good if she could be here too. What do you think?" "I'd like that too, but I'd have to give her a call to check if that's all OK with her." "You do that. And if everything is OK, you can call me back, give me your address, and I can get the taxi arranged. Do that now and get back to me as soon as you can." A call to his Mum to check if she was happy with their arrangements, a return call to Top Class Models to confirm that she was and sort out times, another call to his Mum to let her know when to expect to be picked up, and everything was arranged. He had used up all his break. It was time to get back to work. Sunday was a busy day in Scene, but in the few moments Ryan had time to think, he surprised himself by how excited he was becoming about this meeting and he was beginning to clock-watch, waiting for closing time. But eventually closing time did arrive and Ryan set off for the Top Class Model Agency. He knew the city centre well and after a short walk he came to a four storey building he had seen and walked by many times before, but only now did he look at the bronze plaques at the entrance door, one of which pronounced that Top Class Model Agency was on the second floor. He walked past a couple of elevators, found the stairs, and climbed to the second floor. He soon found the agency door, entered and was faced with a reception desk at which sat the girl who he assumed had taken his call that morning. "Good evening. Can I help you?" "My name is Ryan Baxter. I'm here to see Susan Grant." "Yes, of course. I'll let her know you're here." She pointed behind Ryan to a seated area that had not been visible to him as he entered. "Your mother just arrived a few minutes before you. Will you take a seat over there please and Susan will be with you both as soon as possible." "Thank you." Ryan turned to see his mother seated on a comfortable looking settee, walked over, and sat down beside her. They barely had time to say their "Hellos" when Susan Grant appeared at the head of a corridor and walked over to meet them. She spoke to Diane first. "Hello. You must be Ryan's mum. I'm Susan Grant though Susan will do. Diane isn't it?" "Yes it is. Nice to meet you Susan." Susan turned to Ryan. "Good to see you again, Ryan." She pointed back to the corridor. "C'mon. My office is just down here. Let's go and have that chat." Ryan and his mum followed Susan to a largish well appointed, modern office that had a large glass window looking out over the city centre street below. In a corner there was two three-seater settees facing each other with a coffee table between them. Susan headed for one of the settees and motioned Ryan and Diane to take a seat opposite. "Can I get you a tea, coffee, soft drink, anything like that?" Both Ryan and Diane declined and Susan began by checking that Diane's taxi journey had gone as planned. After a few more pleasantries, and still talking to Diane, Susan asked, "I'm sorry if this is rude, please tell me if it is, but I'm kind of getting the vibe that it's just the two of you. No brothers or sisters." She did not want to say anything about a father but Diane quickly answered her question. "Yes, it's just the two of us." The reply was said pleasantly and in a matter-of-fact fashion, but no explanation about Ryan's father was offered by Diane and it wasn't mentioned again. Eventually, the talk turned to subject at the centre of their meeting. Susan eyes darted between Ryan and Diane as she attempted to speak to them together. "Right. Let me get to the reason we are here. What I'm going to say to you is a little unusual, but I would like if you would hear me out, then please, feel free to ask any questions you have. I don't know if you follow the modelling world at all, but there is now a certain type of model than is very much in fashion at the moment. Have you heard of, for example, Andrej Pejic. He's taking the modelling world by storm and there are others in the same genre following right behind. They are a new, and I think, lasting phenomenon. They are what's being called androgynous or gender fluid models. They are essentially attractive males who are also able to show themselves and model as female. They usually model androgynous fashions, that's clothes that are both for male or female, or completely feminine woman's fashion. I believe that you, Ryan have that "look". I have been looking for someone that I think could do this type of modelling for some time and I believe I have found him in you, Ryan. You are tall, slender and have the facial bone structure and fresh faced complexion, that along with your hair, gives you the exact qualities that I think would work for this type of modelling." Ryan and Diane turned and looked at each other, a stunned look upon both their faces. Ryan spoke first. "You mean you would want me to model AS A GIRL?" he asked emphasising the last three words. "Let me go on. In most cases the model is always known to be a boy, but portrays elements of both boy and girl, and it's the fact that it's a boy that is carrying off this feminine look that adds mystery and fascination to the clothes that some customers love. Some see their clothes as gender fluid, so someone who appears to be comfortable as both male and female suits them precisely. But what I see for you is a little different. I want people who see you in a picture or even possibly on a catwalk to see only a girl. Yes, they will know it's a boy, be aware of that fact, but their eyes will make them question this belief. There is a niche opening up in modelling right now and clients wanting this type of model. I believe you have the qualities, with a little coaching, to do this and to do it well. Here let me show you something" Susan turned her attention to the laptop on her desk. "Just let me open this folder. Let's see. Slideshow. This is what I'm talking about." She turned the laptop towards Ryan and Diane who watched a succession of pictures of males modelling various clothes from the gender neutral to the outright feminine. Some of the models retained masculine features, even beards, while still showing femininity, while others were totally pretty boys who passed easily as girls. There was head shots of boys in full makeup looking absolutely feminine and beautiful. Susan turned the laptop again. "That's the kind of thing I have in mind for Ryan. Makeup companies are also using this avenue of promotion." Diane sat silently trying to organise her thoughts. The first thing that crossed her mind was that just six months ago Ryan had attended his doctor, embarrassed and concerned about the swelling around his upper chest that appeared to give him small breasts. The doctor had examined him and told him that he had gynecomastia, and that this swelling was not unusual in young males, although more commonly, but not exclusively, in obese males. He had been told that this condition normally resolves itself in the late teens and that there was nothing to do at present. He had relayed this information to his mum and little more was said or thought about it. But now, somehow, when you added the fact that someone saw Ryan as a "feminine looking boy!!!" She was upset with herself that she should think it, but this seemed like another blow on her son's masculinity. And, she guiltily admitted to herself, she had, on occasion, wondered if her son might be gay. He had many female friends, but so far had shown no inclination or desire to have a "relationship" with any of them. No crushes whatsoever. To be honest, neither had he shown any signs that he as attracted to boys, but yes, it had crossed her mind. She had always known her son was " extremely good looking". It was what many people had commented to her. But she had never thought about his looks in a feminine way. Maybe those who commented actually meant something else. Maybe they saw a "a pretty boy" and her closeness to him stopped her from seeing that. She had read a couple of articles in her magazines about these androgynous models, but not for a second did she see her son looks in the same way. But now, for the first time, after listening to Susan, she turned to look at her son and was shocked to see that although the Ryan she knew was seated beside her, she COULD see what Susan meant. There was a certain beauty to his boyish good looks. BUT STILL! HE WAS A BOY! She turned to face Susan once more, who started talking again to break the silence. "Look, I know this must a lot for you to take in and don't get me wrong if you decide to try this there would be consequences and some sacrifices to make. At the moment you have zero facial hair and I'm guessing not much body hair either. Hopefully, with your colouring, neither of these will get too heavy and dark, but both of these would need to kept under control either with laser or electrolysis on your face and waxing etc on your body. You would need to keep your weight at least similar to what it is now and keep your hair long. Keep your fingernails nice and a decent length. You would at all times need to be available as "model" Ryan. To be honest many, if not most, of the boys I've shown you before, perhaps already naturally had, or had already mastered many of skills required to portray themselves as female. These are skills you are going to have to learn and master. And," she added with a smile " you would need to learn to walk in heels." Diane turned to her son again. "Ryan, what on earth are you thinking about this?" "I don't know. I'm not sure what I was expecting to hear today, but I know it wasn't this. I guess I thought it might be for a clothing catalogue, or a still picture for an advertisement or something like that, but this WOW! Susan pressed on. "What I can say is, if you're successful at this it can be very lucrative for both you, and to be honest, us here at the agency too. Androgynous modelling is definitely all the rage at the moment. Is it just a trend? To be absolutely honest I don't know for sure, but now that it's here I think it's here to stay, and I certainly don't see it passing any time soon. Again, I don't mean to be rude, but I'm guessing that it can be quite tough financially for you both, and, Ryan, I believe that if you're successful, there are life changing sums of money to be earned by you." "You really think I can do this?" Ryan asked Susan. "I do, Ryan." "Mum?" "I don't know what to think." Her mind was in a state of confusion. Memories began to force themselves to the forefront of Diane's mind. Memories that had long since slipped from her thoughts but were now resurfacing again. Of a young Ryan, seven or eight at the time, paying more than a little interest to his mother's beauty routine. Asking questions about what she was doing and why. Why do ladies wear makeup and not men? That's not fair, is it? And another time, why do ladies get to have longer hair and do "nicer" things with it. He had been insistent that he didn't want his hair cut and she had allowed him to let it grow. Once she had caught him with her lipstick on. But she had put all this down to childhood inquisitiveness. After all, he did live solely with a female. And barring his keeping his hair longer, these events seemed to pass and had slipped to the back of her mind and been forgotten. Until now. Ryan spoke and snapped her back to the present. "If I said yes and wanted to give it a try what would happen then?" "What we would do at the agency is quickly arrange, a private shoot in the studio we have here in the floor above. Before you leave here today, one of the staff would take some body measurements from you. Get your shoe size. Stuff like that. In fact, even though you may need to talk this over together before coming to a decision, if we could do that anyway we'll be ahead of the game if you decide to go ahead. I hope that shoot would confirm to me that you have what I'm looking for. I'm pretty sure that it will. It would also give you a feeling for how comfortable YOU are in this role. If we both are happy and want to continue, you would sign for the agency and we would pay you a one-off moderate retainer." Susan mentioned a sum which was double what Ryan earned in a year at Scene. "These photographs would make up your first portfolio and we would then set about getting you paid work for which we would take a previously agreed percentage commission. How does that sound?" It was Diane's turn to speak. "This is an awful lot to take in and make a decision about." Again Susan took the lead. "Listen. I don't expect you to give me an answer right now. Go home, take some time, discuss it between the two of you and then get back to me. Just remember the iron is hot right now. Don't leave it too long if you want to strike. Is there anything else you would like to ask" "I've still got my job at Scene. I work six days a week with only Monday off. If I were to go ahead with this, how is that going to work?" "OK, then we would arrange the shoot on a Monday. After we've done our bit I think we will both have feeling for how it might go. I hope we would reach a point where you would have to make a decision about taking on modelling full time. Meantime, I'd hope the retainer would smooth any transition necessary. Now I'm just going to get someone organised for those measurements. She made a quick call. Ryan and the two women then swapped some pleasantries, and despite protestations that they would take the train, Susan insisted organising another taxi to take them home. She walked Ryan and Diane back to the reception, informed them that she had some work to finish in her office, and that she too was shortly about to head home. They said their goodbyes. A young girl who had been waiting at he reception informed Ryan and his mum that she just needed to borrow Ryan for a few minutes. The woman took Ryan into a small office and quickly got the measurements required, returned Ryan to his mum and told them the taxi would now be waiting. The taxi had no partition between the driver and Ryan and his mum in the back seats, so they agreed to wait until they got home before discussing the decision to be made after their surprising meeting. Back home, Diane popped the macaroni cheese she had prepared in the afternoon, into the oven. Strangely, Ryan found himself briefly questioning if macaroni cheese was an appropriate dinner for someone trying to watch their weight, but quickly realised how stupid he was being. This was part of the mixed diet his mum put on the table and it had given him the build he had today. Beside not only would saying something about his mum's meal not be well received, he also loved macaroni cheese. In the taxi home he had began to think of what direction their conversation might take, and he didn't want his mum to think that if he proceeded with the modelling, it was causing problems straight away. They sat down at the kitchen an each helped themselves to some of the mac cheese. "Mum, I think that I should give this a go." "Oh Ryan, I'm really not sure. I'm finding it hard to think of you wearing female clothes, wearing makeup, presenting yourself as a girl." "It would be like acting, mum. For a short while I would be a different character, then I would back to being me." "But what about the facial hair thing. Surely you would have no facial hair? Would that not look unnatural?" "Mum, I have no facial hair at all at the moment. Lots of the boys I went to school with are starting to show growth now. I'm not. Maybe, as Susan said, I wont be someone who has lots of facial hair. I'd just look like someone who likes to keep clean shaven." Ryan smiled. "And if I have to have some sort of treatment, think of all the time I'll same in my life by not shaving and think of the money I'll save on shaving products." "It's just so STRANGE!" "The way I look at it is, I do the first shoot. I'm no good. Story ends. Or Susan likes what she sees, I can handle it, she asks me to sign and I immediately have the same as two years wages from Scene. Mum, that's money we could with. The work doesn't come my way, I've still been paid the retainer. The work does come my way, then I'll be earning what Susan said could be life changing money, even if it's only for a short while. It all comes down to money and I don't think we have anything to lose" "Ryan we are not desperate for money. We get by." "Yes mum, we get by. But this might be the answer to us "just getting by". I want to do it for us. Also, at the moment, we have no day time together. We only see each other morning and nights. And, I hardly get a chance to see any of my friends, again only in the evening. This might be a chance to make things a little different" "It's just I don't like the idea of you doing something that's uncomfortable for you just to provide us with extra money," "Please mum, agree to let me try this and I'll give her a call tomorrow." He smiled again. "Nothing to lose." "OK, but you need to be able and willing to stop if you're not happy." "Fine. I promise." Monday was a odd day for Ryan. It was his only day off, but his mother was at work and almost all his friends were still at school, so after doing some chores around the house, he often found himself at a loose end. He often thought that he would be just as well working Monday too. But, this Monday he had a phone call to make. He was anxious to make the call but didn't want to call to early in the day in case it made him look over keen. But at around eleven o'clock he could wait no longer. This time, however, Susan was busy and he had to leave his number, and await a return call when she became free. Having built himself up to having the conversation with Susan, this delay was a little frustrating and he watched some morning television, while repeatedly looking at his phone, waiting for the return call. But eventually, nearer twelve o'clock his phone rang. "Am I speaking to Ryan Baxter?" "Yes." "Susan Grant for you." "Hello Ryan. Sorry about the delay. Busy Monday morning. Are you enjoying your day off?" "Bit bored actually. Maybe read a little in the afternoon." "OK. I take you and your mum had a chat last night." "We did." "And did you decide what you're going to do?" "Yes, and I'd like to go ahead with the shoot if that's alright." "Sure, that's good news. I'm glad your going to at least do that. Now let me think. Monday is your only day off, so how about a week today?" "That'll be fine." "Good. I'll be out of town on business from tomorrow through till the weekend, but I'll inform Talia Banks, she's one of our shoot coordinators, to set things up for then. She'll be in charge." "What do I need to do?" "You just have to turn up here looking exactly as you normally do, say, at 9.30. I would say give your hair a wash the day before, but I can see you know how to look after your hair. We'll do everything else. How's that?" "All good." "Look forward to seeing you next Monday then. Bye Ryan." "Bye." Ryan put the phone down and it crossed his mind that he had just agreed to a potentially lucrative career move, or an embarrassing way to look ridiculous and make a fool of himself. It was a lovely day, so he decided to get out of the flat and walk to, and round, the local park, his mind constantly turning over the events of the last couple of days. Arriving back at the flat, something Susan had said and which he had been thinking about during his walk, caused him to do something that he would never have done just last Friday. He went into his Mum's bedroom, opened a sliding mirrored door on the fitted wardrobe in which Diane put her clothes that required to be hung. On the wardrobe floor there was several pairs of shoes including three pairs of dress heeled shoes, one black, one a dark tan and one red. He took one of each of them out and examined them. He checked the size and saw that all three were a half size smaller than his own shoe size. The tan and red shoes had heels he guessed were about three inches in height, the black ones slightly higher. Maybe three and a half to four inches. He took out the other red shoe and carried them over to his Mum's bed, where he sat down. He removed the right canvas plimsoll he had on and took off his sock. He took the shoe, and slid his toes in, then tried to pull the back over his heel. It was tight but with a little push his heel slid in. He repeated the procedure with the left shoe. He turned up the bottom of his jeans, rose, and took his first unsteady steps in heels, He walked back towards the full length mirror on the wardrobe door slowly, concentrating on his balance. The shoes were tight, but not impossibly so, and he made it to the mirror where he looked down to see his feet in heels. It was such a strange vision. He stared a little longer before making some steps around the bedroom and into the hall. He was just managing. Suddenly, a wave of guilt swept over him. It dawned on him that this was invading his mum's space, using something of hers without her permission. He walked back into the bedroom, suddenly also concerned that perhaps he was damaging his mum's shoes and she would be able to tell that they had been worn by someone other than herself. He quickly removed the shoes, examining them for any evidence that they were not the same as he had found them, but fortunately they seemed undamaged, and he returned all the shoes to the bottom of the wardrobe. He left the room feeling guilty but also wishing he could have worn the heels a little longer. He walked to the kitchen. It being Monday, the roles were reversed and it was his turn to begin getting dinner ready for when his Mum arrived home. The rest of the week went slowly for Ryan. He had quickly become accustomed to his six working days a week routine, so the prospect of something new and different on the horizon was both exciting and a little scary. He met up with a group of male and female friends at a local club on the Wednesday evening, but decided not to tell them about his new venture. Not at this point anyway. On a couple of evenings he sat with the laptop and researched to try and better understand the androgynous model scene. Some of the "boys" were so girl-like, it really was hard to see the boy behind the female fa?ade. One thing he noticed was that in almost all the photographs the models did not smile. It appeared a serious face was required. Ryan found it absolutely weird that there was someone who saw, in him, the same properties that these boys had. Should he be annoyed or embarrassed that this was the case? He discovered, to his own surprise, that he was neither. The only thing that made him a little uncomfortable were the pictures where the model was bare-chested. It crossed his mind how strange it was, that the "girlish" condition which had caused him some embarrassment as a boy, might be a problem as he tried to be an androgynous model. Perhaps he should have mentioned this to Susan. Would it be a problem? Maybe not. He tried to put it to the back of his mind. On several occasions he found himself in front of the bathroom mirror trying to see what Susan saw in him. He tried to imagine what he may look like next Monday. How would they make him look? What would he look like given the full makeup "works" that he had seen given to some of the boys on his laptop? But he could only see himself. He was going to have to wait.