Doctor 8217 s Son And His Mother
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Gossip
By Cassandra Morgan
It is impressive in its mass, staggering in its force, frightening in its
destruction. It travels faster than sound, faster than light, faster than
thought. It is mean, and it is harsh, and it is deadly. It doesn't care
who it hurts, or which lives it wrecks, or which souls it devours.
It is the thing called gossip.
And it is undefeated.
Everyone plays a part. A snarky comment here, a spicy rumor passed on
there, a tasty bit of innuendo everywhere. Oh, no one means anything by
it - they never do. They just repeat this tidbit and that one along the
coconut telegraph like a virus.
And so it was that Seth Rogers sat in the cafe next to the pro shop of
the St. Michael's Golf Course, sipping a Gatorade after a perfectly
ordinary 18 holes. It was a warm afternoon in Southern Ohio, and Rogers
had just spend another day chasing a white ball around a green field. He
rode in a cart, but the called it exercise.
Another golfer, Hank Simmons, walked into the restaurant and asked for a
BLT and an iced tea.
"Hit it straight and long?" Seth asked.
Simmons shook his head. "Fairly straight," he said. "Not very long. I did
hit it a lot, however."
"Tell me about it That's the thing about golf. We all stink. Some of us
worse than others."
Hank sat at the table across from Seth. "I spend too damn much money and
too much time on this shit," Hank said.
"Yeah. Let's cut all the courses back to nine holes."
"Maybe more than nine. How about 15?"
"Sure. Then when I shoot a 79, it would sound better."
The two men sat and talked about the weather, and the dogleg on 14, and
politics. Seth talked about his new driver. Hank said that sand traps
were the reason we didn't like the Middle East. The two switched to beer.
The guy running the cafe put the Reds on the television.
Finally, Seth brought it up.
"You hear about your buddy Wilson?" he asked.
"Jason? No, what about him?"
Seth grinned. "No one told you?" he said, snickering. "These days, he's a
her." He flopped his wrist as if to sugest that Jason was gay.
"What are you talking about?"
"I hear Jason went over the other side," Seth said. "He's a woman now.
He minces around like the grandest fairy at the ball."
"Bullshit," Hank said. "I saw Jason a few days ago. Well, maybe a week
and a half ago. He's the same old guy. A knucklehead, but a guy."
"Not what I hear," Seth said. "I think he's a RuPaul these days. Tits and
all. He even had the operation."
"You're full of it. You don't get those things overnight, and Jason
didn't say a word to me about it."
"I can see why he wouldn't. I wouldn't tell anyone if they cut my dick
off, either."
"They don't cut it off, dumbass," Hank said. "They....surgically alter
it. I mean, that's what I've heard."
Seth looked at Hank for a long while. "So you've checked sex-change
surgery out, have you?" he asked.
"No. God no. Where did you hear this about Jason?"
"Everyone's talking about it. Her name is Jasmine now. From what I hear,
she's a pretty good-looking homo. I mean, if you like that sort of
thing."
"Look, I still don't believe it. But even if Jason...Jasmine is a woman
now, it doesn't make her gay."
"No. Sucking dicks makes her gay," Seth laughed.
"No fucking way."
"Way. I hear she sucked Danny Cater's dick. Twice."
"You're lying," Hank said.
"If I'm lying, I'm dying," Seth said. "He butt-fucked her, too, in the
alley behind the Rainbow Room. I hear she squealed."
"I don't buy it. I've known Jason since high school. We played soccer
together. We've, uh, we've showered together."
"Did he offer to wash your ass?" Seth said, grinning.
"Stop that. Jason has been married to Darci for 10 years or so."
"Caitlyn Jenner was married to a woman for years. Had a lot of kids. Now
look at her. Same thing with Jason."
"Shit. Are you sure about this?"
"Yeah," Seth said. "I mean, I haven't seen her myself, but a lot of folks
are talking about it. Where these is smoke, there is fire."
"Jesus. Jason's really a chick now?"
"I always knew he was light in the loafers, Hank. You can tell. The way
he looked at guys just isn't normal."
"I...I guess not."
"Hey, Manny," Seth called out to the heavy-set man at the cash register.
"You hear about Jason Wilson?"
"The tranny? Yeah, I've heard about him. He's a pervert. Some guys will
do anything to be able hit off the ladies' tees."
Seth laughed. He looked at Hank as if he were a reporter and had just
found an independent source.
"That's funny, Manny," Seth said.
"Yeah. She spent the afternoon competing with the ball-washer," Manny
said.
"You're killing me, Manny," Seth said. "Nothing like making fun of
sissies."
"Hell, what else are sissies for?" Manny said.
Seth turned back to Hank.
"See. The guy's in panties now. He wears dresses. He dates men."
"My God. I can hardly believe it."
Seth shrugged. "Some guys like dick," he said. "I guess one of us was
bound to. That damned closet is pretty big, you know?"
"Still, Jason is ..."
"Jasmine," Seth corrected him. "She's a knob polisher. A dick-smoker.
Gayer than springtime."
"Fuck," Hank said. "I hope nobody beats her ass."
"Someone might," Seth said. "If her ass gets big enough, she might like
it. Why? You thinking about her ass? That ass all covered in panties?"
"Stop it," Hank said. But just for a second, maybe two, Hank couldn't
help wondering what Jasmine's ass looked like.
* *
Darci Wilson moved slowly through the book store, searching for a book by
Pat Conroy. "The River is Wide," was the title. She had to read it and be
prepared for a discussion for her book club by the following Friday.
She looked through the titles. They had "The Prince of Tides," of course.
And "The Great Santini." But they didn't have "The River Is Wide."
'Darci!" she heard a voice. She looked up and Tara Ramsey, accompanied by
Allie Jensen, were standing in front of her.
"Oh, hi," Darci said. "What kind of trouble are you two making?"
"Just shopping. Did you buy the Conroy yet?"
"No. They don't have it, and I don't have time to order it online. Do you
think Barnes and Noble has it?"
"Maybe," Tara said. "I'd check if I were you."
"Maybe you can get your girl to find it for you," Allie said.
"My...girl?" Darci said.
"Get off it, Darci," Tara said. "We've heard all about you taking Jason
to fairyland and making him your bitch."
"My...bitch?"
Allie laughed. "Yeah. Tell me: Is she pretty? Do you really make her wear
maid's dresses? Does she have to call you Mistress?"
"I want to know if you make her curtsy and serve you drinks on a tray. I
mean, now that she's your sissy and all."
"What are you two going on about?" Darci said. "What's all this talk
about sissies?"
"Oh, so you're going to play I've-got-a-Secret now, huh?" Allie said.
"Don't sweat it, girlfriend. The word is out. To tell the truth, I'd like
to put Charlie in a dress, too. I'd love to see him mop the kitchen."
"Hell, I'd even like to see Billy put his plate in the sink. How did you
do it, Darci? How did you get a guy like Jason to give up being a man? Is
he being punished? Did he cheat on you?"
"You two are off the deep end," Darci said. "I'm not going to discuss my
private life with you. Certainly not in the middle of a book store."
"Hey, we didn't mean anything by it," Allie said. "Hell, I admire you. I
think every woman should feminize their men. If they didn't like it so
much, there wouldn't be nearly as many crossies out there as there are."
"Yeah," Tara said. "I'd let Villy wear a dress if it meant no more macho
bullshit. The world needs fewer men and more maids."
"Girls, I appreciate your opinions," Darci said. "I really do. But my
marriage is mine, you know? I'm not going to discuss it. No offense."
Darci walked quickly toward the exit of the store. Behind her, Tara and
Allie stood stunned taht she seemed to take offfense.
After a pause, however, Tara grinned.
"Did you catch that that wasn't a denial?" Tara said.
"Which makes it a confirmation," Allie said.
"I can't wait to see Jason in his little maid's dress," Tara said.
"Or out of it," Allie said.
* *
And so Tara told Brenda, who told her husband Gregory, who told his
sister Maggie, who told Kathy, who told Teresa, who told her bridge club,
which included Lexie, who told James who told Bobby, who told J.R., who
told Abby, who told Belinda, who told Gus, who told Kayla, who as a in
group that included Kiki, who told Penny. Breanna heard about it from
Nick, who was told by Susan, who heard about it from Toby, who read about
it in an email from Donald.
The rumors were like electrical sparks in the air, riding on their own
energy. Pretty soon, it seemed that everyone had been told, and the new
gossip became old, and the old gossip because accepted fact. They talked
about Jasmine at the salon, and in the bars, at a meeting of the
Rotarians. Everywhere.
Everyone agreed that Jasmine was a woman now, and she had had breast
augmentation and tattooed makeup and a tramp stamp the said 'sissy' on
her lower back. People said he wore maid's dresses and little girls'
party dresses and liked tiarras. She dated ex-convicts she had met in
bars and at the halfway houses. She had to get penicillin for an STD. She
had been arrested for solicitation but blew the cop to get out of it.
There was disagreement over whether she had already had SRS or had just
scheduled it.
Jasmine was a prostitute, some said. Or she was a submissive. She danced
at the Drag Line on weekends because she wanted to be a drag queen.
During the week, you could find her in the Greyhound Station men's room.
Someone had seen her at Macy's. Someone else had seen her in church.
Someone had heard she had a sex chat room.
As for Darcy, she was the witch who had planned all of this. She was
dating a woman from the University of Cincinnati who had taught her all
about being a domme. She liked using a small whip. She liked to pee on
Jasmine. She fucked Jasmine with a dildo.
Darci was going to divorce Jasmine, the word was. She was going to throw
her fat ass out in the street. That was after she made a cuckold. Or
Jasmine was going to be her maid, and she was going to clean for
outsiders, too. Or they were going to be lesbians together. Jasmine was
going to get even bigger implants, maybe a DD.
Someone should pass a law against the transgender , someone said. Someone
should protect our schools. It wasn't normal. But talking about it was
delicious.
On and on the whispers flew. You couldn't walk down the street without
being hit in the eye by a rumor. Hell, sometimes, the person spreading
the gossip didn't believe always it themselves. It didn't matter. All
lies were welcome. The nastier the better.
No one seemed to know from first-hand knowledge, of course. But everyone
had been told this item from that person who heard it from a cousin who
got it from a bartender who knew a guy who was married to a woman who
worked with someone who frequented the porn stores.
Jasmine was a skank, some said. A deviant, others said. A whore. A
healthy woman who was catching up on her sex life. A fag who couldn't
help herself. A hooker who was raising money for her breasts. The hooker
you went to when you couldn't afford a real woman.
She was all things to all bystanders. And she drew strong reactions --
hate, scorn, envy, lust, admiration, disgust, mockery, revulsion, desire.
She was Jasmine. And she was a pariah.
* *
Gossip is relentless, and its teeth are sharp. It can be mean and
humbling. It has been pointed and unforgiving.
Sometimes, though, it can contain a grain of the truth.
Jasmine Wilson stood in the middle of their bedroom. She was wearing a
soft yellow dress with a billowing skirt. She had a blue scarf on and
blue heels. Her nails matched the red of her lipstick. She smiled into
the mirror and twirled as her wife applauded.
"I wonder what people would say if they could see you now, girlfriend,"
Darci said, grinning. She pointed her cell phone at Jasmine and took
another picture. "They'd think you were off to blow a sailor."
"Funny," Jasmine said. "Give the gossip-mongers an inch, and they'll talk
about me all over again."
"Well, people do like to jabber, don' t they, Jazz?" Darci said. "But
you're worth talking about."
Jasmine moved around the room, light on her feet. After all, she had
practiced for years, from the time when she had worn her sister's Gina's
clothes. It never changed, this energy she drew from dressing.
"I can see a little bulge, Jazz," Darci said, giggling. "Keep that up,
and I'll get you a cage. Do you that would feed the rumor mill?"
Jasmine grinned. She knew her wife was just joking. But then a cloud came
over her face.
"Why did we have to do it this way, Darci?" Jasmine said. It wasn't the
first time she had raised the question.
"We talked about this, Jasmine," Darci said. "You were the one who didn't
want to just come out all at once. You said it was like jumping into the
deep end. Remember? So we decided to let it leak, like politicians and
sports teams do. A word to the hairdresser here, a hint to a waitress
there, and suddenly, everyone knows about you. Gossip can be a good thing
if you use it right."
"Christ, Darci. By now, everyone knows."
"And they won't be surprised when they see you walk into a store in a
dress, Jazz," Darci said. "Everyone's been onto you for weeks. There will
be no more scandal, no more outrage, when you come out.."
"There might be some outrage," Jasmine said.
"Some, maybe. From women who think you're screwing their husbands."
"I'm not."
"You screwed Jill Carter's husband," Darci said. "Just saying."
"That was your idea," Jasmine said. "You encouraged it. You wanted me to
get in touch with my girl side."
"Oh, you touched," Darci said. "Especially with the back of your throat.
I thought Danny wasn't going to follow you home and propose."
"Danny was sweet," Jasmine said, reluctantly.
"Well, you should know," Darci said. "You kept tasting him. I didn't
think you'd like it that much. You were born for sucking cock."
Jasmine blushed. "It wasn't about the sex. Well, it wasn't just the sex.
It was the whole scene. You were there, and you were guiding me, and
well, it felt natural."
"Slut!"
Jasmine blushed. "But it wasn't just me who was messing around. You slept
with a woman, didn't you?"
"Yeah," Darci shrugged. "It's funny. Kelly dressed in jeans and men's
shirts, but no one ever gave her shit for it. But my husband puts on a
dress, and the whole damn town is buzzing about it."
"Maybe it was a mistake," Jasmine said.
"Hell, you begged for it, Jazz," Darci said. "Remember? We were still on
our honeymoon when you were into my wedding dress. It went from something
you did every now and then to something that consumed you. You were
wearing panties to work every damned day."
"Do you hate me for it?"
"Jazz, I love you," Darci said. "Always have, always will. I don't care
what you wear, and whether we sleep around or not. We're forever. So be
Jasmine. Just relax and enjoy life. But you have to accept that people
are going to talk."
Jasmine nodded silently.
"If you say so," she said.
Darci reached out and caressed Jasmine's hair. She ran her hand down to
Jasmine's breast, then further down. It slipped under the hem of
Jasmine's dress, then fondled the front of her panties."
"Do you like that, my jewel?" Darci said, searching her eyes.
"Yes, ma'am," Jasmine breathed. "I love being your man."
"No. Not my man. You're my woman. My sissy."
"Yes," Jasmine whimpered.
Darci smiled. "Now, why don't you do the ironing and then we'll watch a
movie, okay? Just two women being together. You can do the ironing
later."
"The ironing?"
"Didn't you hear? That's the latest rumor. Evidently, I've made you my
maid, because I'm so mean and all. I make you dress in these little
uniforms and wait on me hand and foot. You call me Dame Darci these
days."
"A maid?"
Darci shrugged. "To some, it's the ultimate submission, Jazz. It means
you accept that you're the lesser person in this house. You scrub the
toilets and mop the floors and cook the meals like a good little girl.
You wear the sexy little outfits where everyone can grab your ass."
"People believe that?"
Darci laughed. "They'll believe anything. You know that. But if. you
want, we can try the maid stuff. You know, for 10 years of so."
"God no," Jasmine said. "I like to be a woman. I don't want to be a
second-class one."
"You could try it on Sunday afternoons," Darci said, still teasing.
"Would I have to wear a maid's dress?" Jasmine said.
"Is the sun in the sky?" Darci said.
"Yes."
"Then you have your answer." Darci smiled as she said it. She was joking,
but as her smile widened, Jasmine thought her heart would melt.
Her ressolve, too.
* *
Darci rolled her cart through the produce aisle at Safeway's. Around her,
she could hear the whispers anew.
"It was her idea, you know," a pudgy middle-aged woman named Ruth said.
"She's the Mistress."
"Queen of the Darkness," her friend Marysaid. The friend was leaner. The
1940s called; they wanted its hair-do back.
"She's always been that way, you know," the heavier woman said. "She's
always told him what to do. And it's come to this."
"I hear he's her maid. Little hat and everything."
"Yeah. I hear sHe was sleeping with a guy, and she caught Jason going
down on him in their bed. Sperm was all over her face, and lipstick was
on his dick. It pissed Darci off, so she hypnotized her. Now she makes
her cleans and cook and iron. She's more of a servant than a husband.
She's being punished, so she has to be a maid all the time."
"Must be nice," the thinner woman said.
"Jealous?"
The thin woman laughed. "Maybe a little. Jerome could help out a little
around the house."
"Hah. I'd like to see your Jerome in a dress."
"And heels."
"God, he'd bust his ass."
"Do you think she ties him up?"
"Probably. If you have absolute power, it would be hard not to take
advantage of it."
"I bet. Do you think Jason was always like that?"
"I don't know. But I don't think they woke up one morning and decided he
needed tits."
"What do you supposed came first? Wearing a dress or having sex with
guys?"
"That's a good question. I'd say he put on a dress, and five minutes
later, he let a guy take it off."
"Hah."
"Do you think he shaves? I mean, down there?"
"Why wouldn't he? All girly-boys do. They like to be smooth for their
guys."
"Why do you suppose some guys like that shit? I mean, I hate wearing a
bra, for instance. But girly-boys love them. The same with heels."
"They like pain, I guess,: Mary said. "So let me ask you this: What would
you do if Jerome asked you if he could wear one of your dresses?"
"Hell, it would never fit. Not with his beer gut."
"Okay. What if he wanted to buy one of his own?"
"I'd cut off his nuts."
"Would that deter him or encourage him?
The thin woman paused. She grinned.
"Maybe both."
* *
Gina Wilson leaned back in her chair and took full measure of her
brother. All things considered, she decided, Jason had grown up to be a
pretty woman.
"So you like this, huh?"
"You know I do. You know I always did. Even when I was playing in your
things."
"So you're going to stay this way? Be my sister forever?"
"It feels...right, Gina. You know?"
"That's what I hear. You're quite the celebrity around Cincinnati."
"Don't believe everything you hear."
"I hear a lot. Tell me, Jasmine. Are you really screwing the mayor?"
"Of course not. I've never even met the mayor. But he's not very popular,
and when he was giving a speech, someone yelled 'Collins sucks.' And
someone else yelled, 'So does Jason Wilson.' Next thing you know, someone
decided we sucked each other."
"Would you like that?"
Jasmine smiled. "Maybe."
"So it isn't true that you made a porn movie?"
"Ewww."
"No glory hole?"
"Of course not,"
"The butt plugs?"
"Those would hurt. I'm just a girl. Isn't that juicy enough?"
Gina laughed. 'You may have five of the top 10 rumors of all time. You're
right there with Elvin being alive and Tom Cruise being gay and the moon
landing being a hoax."
"And O.J. is looking for the real killers and Biden stole the election
and the mafia killed JFK."
"And the Loch Ness monster is married to Bigfoot."
The two of them dissolved into laugher. It was easy for Jasmine to be
with her sister. It always had been. Her husband was another matter.
"And how is the caveman?"
"Mike? He's good. He says hi."
"No he doesn't. Mike hates me."
"He's just confused by the feelings you stir with your beauty, sis."
"Bullshit."
"Hey, You'd like Mike if you saw him naked."
"That's all I need. Rumors about me and family members. The neighbors are
going to show up with torches pitchforks if I leave it up to you."
"Maybe that's what you need. A good forking."
"Oh, stuff it. My life is hard enough."
"That's why sex is better than life. In sex, things don't get too hard."
* * *
The next day, on Sunday, Jasmine was upstairs when the doorbell rang. She
was wearing a navy blue dress and blue heels as she made the bed. She
listened closely as Darci answered the door.
"Oh...hi, Hank. What's going on?"
Jasmine slinked into their bedroom and started to close the door. But she
wanted to hear, so she left it cracked open.
"Hi, Darci. I, I had borrowed Jason's hedge-clippers. I just wanted to
drop them by."
"Is that really what you wanted?" Darci said, grinning slightly.
"Um, yeah. Why?"
"Are you sure you didn't want to steal a peek at Jason? Just for fun?"
"What you do mean, Darci?"
"Oh, come on, Hank. I hear the grapevine. I know what kinds of things
people are saying about my husband, about your friend."
"Um, I've heard things, sure. But I didn't believe them."
"Of course you didn't. But you wanted to check it out for yourself,
didn't you?"
"Well, maybe a little..."
"Come on in, Hank. You and I can talk. Jason is...busy right now."
"Oh, okay."
"So go on, Hank. Ask."
"Oh, well, some people are saying that Jason is a girl now."
"Now? Right now? What time is it?"
"You know what I mean. I mean, these days he's a sissy. That's what the
word is."
"And you believe those words?"
"I don't know. I haven't seen Jason for weeks. But I hear someone saw him
in a dress at the movie theatre. Some one saw him at the grocery store,
and we was wearing a skirt. He's my friend, Darci. Is it true?"
Darci studied Hank's face, wondering how much of him was here because he
cared and how much was because he was a voyeur.
"You know people talk, Hank," Darci said. "I can't fight the whispers."
"I understand. I just wondered. I mean, people say it's your idea. That
you're in charge. That you're forcing him to do this."
"And why would I make my husband wear a dress, Hank?"
"Well, you, you would get a maid out of it."
"Hank, how much does a maid cost? A couple of hundred dollars a week for
a part-timer? That isn't enough to turn my man into a servant. Not unless
he a leaning that way to start with. Right?"
"Is that what's going on? Does Jason...Jasmine have a leaning toward it?"
"Why, Hank? Why does it matter? Are you interested in my husband, Hank?
Do you want him to put his lips around your penis and bob up and down? Do
you want him to get on all-fours so you can stick it in his ass? Or did
you want to slide your head under his dress and suck him off? Do you want
to be a girly, too?"
"I just want to know the truth."
"What's the movie line? 'You couldn't handle the truth.'"
"It doesn't bother me if he wants to be a girl. I promise."
"Do you now? And what do you want, Hank? You want to see her legs
sticking out of her dress? She has nice legs, Hank. You want to run your
fingers through her hair? He wears a wig, but it's human hair. It's nice.
You want to tug his panties down? Do you want to taste her lipstick? Do
you want to squeeze her breasts?"
"Darci...it's not like that. A guy just wants to know if his friend
has...changed."
Darci shook her head. Finall, she raised her voice.
"Jasmine, come here," she said.
There was no sound for a minute. "Jasmine...come her NOW!"
A moment passed, and Hank heard soft footsteps as they entered the room.
And there was Jason...Jasmine. She was wearing a cherry red lipstick, and
her eyes were lined, and her hair cascaded softly over her shoulders. She
stood awkwardly, the him of her dress impossibly revealing. Hank couldn't
help but notice the details -- her dangling earrings, and her long
fingernails, and the bangles around her wrists. She looked smaller, more
feminine than he would have imagined.
"Hello, Hank," Jasmine said shyly.
"So I guess it's all true," Hank said.
"Not all of it," Jasmine said. "Rumors are like wildfire. They burn out
of control. I was never a hooker. I haven't had an operation. Darci
didn't make me do any of it."
Hank nodded.
"You look good," he said.
"Thank you," Jasmine dipped slightly, an attempt at a curtsy.
"Are you happy?"
Jasmine smiled. "Yes, Hank. forget the scuttlebutt. This is who I am."
"And you aren't being forced?"
"Not even a little."
"So you've never slept with a guy?" Hank said.
"I didn't say that," Jasmine said, giggling.
Hank blushed. He was stunned at how attractive his friend was, and
stunned at how it was affecting him. To Hank, it all suddenly made sense.
Down deep, this was who his friend really was. Shame on him for not
accepting it sooner.
Darci looked at the two of them and grinned.
"Hank, would you like to join us for dinner? You can play 20 Questions
with Jazz. She'll answer all of your questions no matter what you ask.
Jazz is about to come out fo the world. When she does, I suspect she'll
need a friend."
Hank nodded. "Everyone needs a friend."
"Some of us need close friends, Hank," Darci said.
* *
Gossip gets old and stale. There is always a new rumor, a new twist, for
the prying public to dig its teeth into.
When Jasmine came out, however, it added life to this one. She was
embarrassed to have the world see her, friends and neighbors and
strangers, but it beat living in the shadows. If people were going to
talk, they might as well see what they were talking about.
It was when she started keeping company with Hank that the whispers
became shouts, however.
Hank and Jasmine were dating, the gossip said. Hank was going to have
surgery, too, and change his name to Hannah. They were going to get
married and adopt a lot of transgender kids. They were going to be sissy
wives and hire out as maids.
Another rumor said that, together with Darci, they were a threesome. All
of them were going to marry each other in a poly marriage. Jansimine and
Hannah were dating a pair of weight-lifters from Akron. They had jobs as
weekend strippers at Clancy's. Hank had designed a new chastity cage, and
they had all made loads of money. Hannah was the top. Or both of them
were bottoms, and Darci ruled the house.
What was truth? What was fiction? What was rumor and what was life ever-
changing? With gossip, it is always hard to tell.
Not that anyone cares about the truth.
Lauryn
- 03.06.2022
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