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Author's Note: Apologies it this sounds too close to a recent work about fraternities that someone recently posted. An alternative direction was just too tempting to resist. Apologies for the ending too, which might seem abrupt for those of you looking for more than a "G" rated piece. I'm drawn to them, even though the rating is so much harder for me write within. ~Stacy
I didn't really expect to get into one of the frats. I was a runty little kid with mediocre grades and no real activities or interests. Partly by how easily alcohol hit my little body, I didn't even drink much.
But Dad had been a frat-boy himself and insisted I join one. Aside from lifelong friends, future contacts, and all the other aspects of a fraternal brotherhood, he thought it would build character, which I apparently needed.
I couldn't get into his old frat, even as a "legacy". After striking out almost everywhere else too, one fraternity, which I'll call B-House to protect the guilty, was surprisingly receptive. It wasn't a "losers" fraternity.
We were all lined up. Steve, the president of B-House paced as he spoke.
"Now you might be wondering about all this hazing that supposedly goes on during rush week."
I, and the other eleven pledges, looked around nervously but didn't speak.
"Officially, we do not haze."
He let that sink in before continuing.
"We are, however, allowed to present non-harmful "challenges" for you to pass. The purpose of the process is to build a common bond; as sense of shared toil toward a common goal; a way to truly become brothers."
I'm sure I shared the excited look on the other pledges.
"Come with me," he said simply.
We followed, confused, in a single line. Not knowing if it was OK to do otherwise, we snaked behind him like a line of ducklings across campus. Classes wouldn't start for a week and a half, but we were herded into a classroom.
"What's going on?" the guy behind me whispered so that only I could hear.
I shrugged. What WAS going on? Why were there a similar number of girls in the already classroom too?
"Sit," Steve commanded.
The girls were bunched on one side. We sat on the other. The only two standing were Steve and an older girl up front.
"I'm Steve, President of B-House."
"And I'm Janet, Mistress of G-House. You might be wondering what is going on."
All the pledges, the guys and the girls, looked around nodding. Steve waited before breaking the silence.
"The challenge for you all, and I mean ALL," he added with a meaningful glance to the girls, "is to help the Chosen Ones succeed. Janet?"
"Who are the Chosen Ones?" she took up. "Well that will be entirely up to you. In a moment, Steve and I will leave you alone for one hour. At the end of that hour, you will tell us who the Chosen Ones will be, one from each house."
"Our two houses are like brothers and sisters," Steve piped in. "You'll see that we do quite a bit together and each help the other house out wherever possible. You can make your choices separately or together, but you do have to choose. The challenge is this. The Chosen One from B- House will swap with the Chosen One from G-House."
"Swap?" one of the female pledges asked timidly.
"Yes," Janet answered. "Swap. The boy will go through all our initiations and rights, while one of you will do the same at B-House."
She smiled before continuing.
"The challenge for all of you will be to make sure that the respective Chosen Ones are completely believable. No one outside our two houses is to ever know about this. This is about supporting each other; helping each other; but it is also about trust in your brothers and sisters. If that trust is broken, then all of you will fail and not be accepted into the final rights."
We had already been sworn to secrecy. We watched Steve and Janet leave. The room erupted into disbelieving comments and snippets of conversation. It was Pam who quieted the room and spoke up.
"Are we going to do this?"
There was grumbling on both sides of the room.
"Well are we? I know I don't want to be a Chosen One, but I do want to join G-House. Does everyone else feel the same? Show of hands."
Eventually, reluctant though they were, everyone's hand was up.
"OK. Then the first thing we should do is pledge to go through with it if picked. I'll go first. My name is Pam and I solemnly swear that I will do my best to help my sisters and brothers if (god forbid) I am picked as a Chosen One. OK? Who's next?"
One by one the pledges from G-House made the same pledge, some even with their right hand raised. They looked to our side of the room.
"Shit guys," one of us said before standing.
"My name is Mike and I solemnly swear that I will do my best to help my brothers and sisters if (god forbid) I am picked as a Chosen One."
"Easy for you to say," someone else said. "No one's going to pick you to be a girl."
"I can't help what I look like," he said defensively, "but I really would do it. I want to get in. It's only a pledge thing anyway. No one said you're supposed to like it. In fact, I'm pretty sure you're not. I'm not going to be the one to ruin things for everyone here when Steve and Janet come back."
One by one, the other guys stood up and made the pledge. I was nervous. I couldn't help what I looked like either, and was scared that my pledge would mean more than the other's. After everyone else in the room finished, I was the only one left. If I was chosen, could I really do it? At that moment, with everyone's eyes on me, I felt more pressure from what would happen if I didn't. Even my not making that stupid promise would prevent EVERYONE from getting in.
"My name is Brian," I said with a very dry mouth, "and I solemnly swear that I will do my best to help my brothers and sisters if (of god please forbid) I am picked as a Chosen One."
"Great," Pam said immediately, as if a simple point of procedure had been gotten out of the way.
She seemed to just naturally take charge and was soon speaking with Mike, who had first stood up on our side. They determined that both houses should choose together instead of separately.
A big girl named Stacy was the no-brainer choice from G-house. She had rowed on a crew team in high school, which gave her broadish shoulders and a boyish outline, particularly with her near lack of a chest.
"I'll do it," she said meekly.
With that, Stacy got up and walked over and sat with us on the B-House side of the room. Everyone applauded. Some of them even slapped her back like she was just one of the guys, which brought an almost reluctant smile to her in spite of her nervousness.
I was right to be scared. They picked me without so much as a debate.
"oh shit," was all I could whisper numbly.
The room got quiet. All eyes were on me. Time was running short before Steve and Janet would be back and I could torpedo everyone's chances if I couldn't do it.
"I'm not going to like it," I mumbled.
"You're not supposed to," Mike said quietly.
"I can't believe I'm doing this."
I stood and slowly walked over to sit on the G-House side of the room. There was almost thunderous applause. All the girls came around me. They encouraged me; thanked me; praised my courage (which I didn't feel); touched my forearm; or even hugged me. Like the guys had taken in Stacy, I was taken in like I was just one of the girls.
Steve and Janet came back soon after. They were very pleased that we had worked together and seemed very impressed with both Pam and Mike's leadership. Pam's idea of making an oath before making our choices was particularly well received. It was no surprise that the two of them were picked to lead our group of pledges throughout our college career. They would be heading our houses as seniors.
Stacy stood with the guys and followed Steve out. I stood with the girls, not believing that I was walking in line behind Janet.
We were all silent. The looming sorority house took on a horror-story feel as we approached. It wouldn't be the last time that I wondered what the hell I had agreed to do as I filed in through the front door.
All the women of G-House started congregating in the wide area inside the entrance.
"Ladies! Gather 'round," Janet called out unnecessarily. "I'd like to reintroduce one of our pledges, Stacy. Say hello Stacy."
"Hello," I said sheepishly hating every moment but still unwilling to ruin it for me and the other pledges.
"Now now," she said turning surprisingly to Pam. "Stacy doesn't sound happy, which means that you and your fellow pledges aren't rising to their part of the challenge."
Janet turned back to me. Her words reminded me that I wasn't doing this alone. They also reminded me that my "performance" impacted the pledges around me as well as those back in B-House.
"Say hello Stacy," she repeated. "You are one of us and happy to be here."
I paused for the briefest moment; plastered on a false smile; and honestly tried as a feminine voice as I could manage, which came embarrassingly too easily from my small frame.
"Hello," I said with mock cheer.
"Hi Stacy," the other's called out as one.
"I'm Sandra," one added.
"And I'm Rachel," said another.
On it went until everyone said their name. Janet smiled.
"There will be a quiz," she seemed to joke. "Beth will show you your new rooms. Be ready at nine for your first house meeting."
Beth showed us into three large rooms with two sets of bunks in each. Pam arranged us in fours. I was rooming with her, Erin, and Adrianna, who went by Adri.
Adri looked at me and said, "He's going to be rooming with us?"
"It's SHE now and she's one of us," Pam corrected. "And we'd better get HER presentable by nine."
Adri looked at Pam, Erin, and me before nodding.
"OK," she said. "Let's do this."
"Do what?" I asked nervously.
"Turn you into a girl."
Their laugher seemed to lighten things a little, but I still felt like a prisoner walking my final steps on death row. They wanted me to strip and put on a tight black Lycra panty.
"You ARE one of us now."
"That's a two way street," I pointed out.
"I guess it is," quiet little Erin shrugged. "Put them on Stacy."
I felt like such an idiot. In any other circumstance, I would have been thrilled to be getting naked in a room with four girls. I was too scared to be aroused and the only reason I pulled those panties on so quickly was that I wanted to cover up. Though embarrassingly small, they still frowned at my little bulge and suggested I try pulling things back under my legs.
I was amazed at how little showed under the almost painfully tight Lycra. It looked almost like I didn't have anything "down there". But the girls frowned. I suddenly felt Erin's hands pull my panties down from behind.
"Relax and don't move."
There was a ripping sound. She had taken the backing off a panty liner and stuck it to the inside before pulling my panties back up. It was too fast for me to blink. She had brazenly pulled my "stuff" back in the same motion, pulling them even tighter back than before.
"There," she said with a satisfied grin. "I guess you're on your period Stacy."
All of us looked between my legs with stunned expressions. The added panty liner all but erased the evidence of me being a boy.
"Here," one of them said handing me a pink electric razor. "I guess you should do it everywhere."
"No!" one of the girls said storming in from another room with a group. "Arms and chest have to be waxed. You can't have stubble there."
I couldn't believe it. All twelve of us pledges were suddenly crowded into one room discussing whether to shave or wax me. Waxing it was, and not just for my sparse chest and frail arms. With so many girls to help, one attended to each of my limbs.
"OUCH!" I called out in pain with the first ripping tug of my light body hair. "That hurts!"
"Ain't it a bitch?"
"OUCH!" I said instead of answering as even more hair got yanked.
While they worked on me, they started to quiz me on not just their names but the names of the other women of the house. I was immune to the eleven young women tending to my nearly naked body. The waxing; the quizzing; and the fact I was still embarrassed to be there at all (and in panties no less) made we want to just crawl somewhere and hide.
"Janet meant it," Pam said nudging me in the side. "The quiz thing. You have to know everybody's name at the meeting."
We had a similar thing at B-House. Between winces from the waxing, I tried my best to follow the relentless drumming of my "sisters" names into me.
I was red and felt raw when they were done waxing, but there was no time to feel sorry for myself. The pink razor did get used, on my face, to make me absolutely smooth. I knew I wouldn't use it again for this "challenge". I wasn't shaving regularly yet and the time between shaves was still measured in weeks.
It was all so rushed. I was strapped into a black satiny bra, which was soon stuffed with tissues. An almost cruel satin waist cincher was somehow hooked closed around me. A black stretchy top with thin half- sleeves as well as a simple denim miniskirt were thrown onto me before I was almost pushed down into a chair in the middle of the room.
One started plucking my brows and doing my makeup. Another hastily used a needle to pierce my ears. Pam polished my toes a glossy subtle "peach", while someone else started gluing and polishing matching nails on my hands. It didn't seem real.
"What about her hair?"
Someone answered, "I've got a wig, a Jenifer Aniston wig I wore last Halloween."
"Great. We can get her extensions tomorrow, but tonight we'll use the wig."
It was still warm out. A pair of glittery flip-flops looked way too "normal" on me with that outfit, smooth thin legs, and my pretty little pedicure. They talked about teaching me to walk in real shoes tomorrow. Someone spritzed perfume on me.
"Oh my god," I whispered to my reflection in the mirror.
"I KNOW," Adri said almost bouncing. "You look so pretty!"
Everyone else agreed. I wanted not to believe it, but I did look pretty. Too pretty. The makeup was subtle but worked with now delicately feminine wisps for brows to utterly transform my face. It was a woman's face. Brian had been erased beyond recall.
My fellow pledges took their "challenge" seriously. Though my inner- Brian screamed that this was all wrong, I did my best to absorb the tips they started giving me. How to hold things with nails. What to do with my hands with no pockets. How to smooth my skirt to sit. How to cross my legs or press them together. All the while, the names of the women in the sorority were drummed into my pretty little head.
We found our way to the main meeting room downstairs. 9:00 struck. Unbelievably, no one said a word about how I looked. The existing sisters were singing a sorority song and passing out pretty personalized notebooks to us. Midway through the second song, we all realized that the notebooks had the songs hand-printed in them, and we all started singing along. My tiny feminine voice only sounded prettier with a sing- song lilt.
There were little speeches and histories of the sorority. There was more singing as certain points in the meeting. Each personalized notebook came from one of the senior sorority sisters. We were to copy them in our own writing and give our copies back in their place. It was explained as a way to link the different years. We were supposed to remember the names of every member for the last four years; and the mistresses all the way back to the beginning.
The books. The songs. The speeches. The history. The roll of names. All of it was secret, never to be revealed to anyone who wasn't a member of the sorority. I wanted to say something; to point out that maybe I shouldn't be let in on all these precious secret rituals. I wanted to state the obvious. I wanted to tell them that I'd be going back to my frat at B-House when all this was over and that they were violating their own rules of secrecy. But I didn't. Though it didn't seem right, I knew that I was intentionally being included in ALL of it. I was truly being treated as if I really were a girl named Stacy, a pledge who was joining G-House. It suddenly made sense why no one made a fuss over me. I was supposed to be just like any other pledge.
The other pledges seemed to come to the same realization too. Either that or their job at transforming was too good. After the house meeting, none of them said anything about what they did to me earlier. They just acted as if I really were one of the other girls. So they drifted into what girls do. They talked. They showed each other outfits as they unpacked them.
I didn't have much to add in their conversations, which were mostly about boyfriends which of the B-House frat boys were cute.
"You should join us Stacy," Pam said with an almost worried look on her face.
"Everyone's talking about boys," I said.
"That's what we do."
I looked at her but didn't get what she was trying to say. She tried again.
"That's what WE do Stacy."
"Oh," I said not quite believing my ears.
"It might be easier to talk about the new Brian at B-House, you know, THAT way."
"I wonder what 'he' looks like," I said.
"Probably as good as you do"
So I forced myself to fake interest in their interests, which meant boys, makeup, boys, outfits, and boys. I tried my best to make it seem sincere.
When bed time rolled around, I did get a little thrill. Though it wasn't much, I did catch more than a glimpse of skin as they put on their nightclothes. I was given a black satin teddy to sleep in myself. It didn't clash with the bra and panties that they gave me sleep in to maintain the illusion; something that would be taken care of the next day too.
It was strange waking up as Stacy. It felt weirdly less like a costume being her for a second day. Thankfully, I wore a robe to the shower like the "other" girls. There wasn't much to see. The quick little that I did see was heaven, but it was less of a big deal than I would have guessed. Maybe it was how I was treated. With or without anyone saying anything, they treated me like I was one of them. Their indifference to me being in their showers made it hard to get excited.
I was set up with a new outfit, a simple yellow sundress with short ruffled sleeves. The flouncey wisp of skirting came to about mid-thigh and went disturbingly well with the low cork-wedged sandals they wanted me to wear. Some makeup, the cash from my forgotten wallet, and a house key went into a little white purse with a long thin strap that I slung over my slender shoulders.
"We've got a busy day," Pam said.
"Oh joy," I said sarcastically.
Adri gave me a short look.
"We're going shopping for clothes and things for you Stacy. Most girls would LOVE a day like today."
"Like this," Erin added with a giddy clapping little bounce, "Oh JOY! We're going shopping!"
"Oh JOY! We're going shopping!"
"With the bubbly little bounce Stacy."
"Oh JOY! We're going shopping!"
"Isn't it going to be fun?"
"I can't wait!" I added with the same mock enthusiasm.
This was going to be hard. Classes weren't starting for some time. It was pledge week and we weren't even registered for them yet. Eleven of my sisterly pledges would have nothing to do, no other "challenges", but to train me to be a perfect young woman.
My cover was temporarily blown twice. The first time was at the beauty parlor, where the word "pledge" was all the explanation needed for the Jennifer Aniston wig to be recreated with laboriously woven hair extensions, a cut, and a color. The second time was at a "medical appliances" store, where alarmingly realistic silicon breast prostheses were being discussed. Aside from hearing how the adhesive would hold them in place for as long as two weeks, size became a horrifying topic that I had no say in.
"The B's would look more normal on a girl her size."
"But we've stuffed her to about a C already. They'll look natural enough."
They had me try both on in my bra. There wasn't much of a debate. The medical technician demonstrated how to attach them to me with the adhesive. I walked out of the store with the weight and jiggle of real breasts tugging on my chest, thankfully held by my bra. They were a healthy C, a little bigger instead of a little smaller than the tissue they replaced.
Pam did her leader thing.
"Twelve outfits, one from each of us, should do. OK?"
There was a lot of nodding.
"We'll split lingerie, shoes, accessories, and anything else afterwards."
More nodding and we were suddenly shopping. The others kept pointing out how I might improve my walk, or choices of words, or food choices and portions at the food court. As tops and skirts were being matched with shoes and accessories, they started teaching me how to coordinate; and what was appropriate for what season or setting. But attitude seemed just as important for me to get right.
"Oh that looks so CUTE! Here. I've got to try this one right now," I cooed as enthusiastically as I could.
A group of twelve freshmen women attracts attention as a mall near a college. There were big groups of guys from the frats and dorms too. The other G-House girls were more than happy to mix with them when they came over to us.
Pam whispered close when the first group approached.
"You need to act excited about boys coming our way too."
"It's hard Pam."
"It's for all of us. I know you're working at this and it's got to be hard on you, but so are the other girls; so are Brian and the pledges in B-House. What if one of our sorority sisters came out with us?"
"Then I'd act excited."
"You've got to get used to it now so it comes more naturally, so you don't accidentally forget. You've got to try. For ALL of us. OK?"
The "for all of us" was the uncomfortable reminder that made me nod my head.
"Good. Here they come. Sell it to them. None of those boys can ever know that you're not a G-House pledge named Stacy. Well. You are I guess. Oh you know what I mean Stacy."
"Here they come!" I answered instead with a giddy excitement. "They all look so CUTE!"
"Don't they," she bubbled conspiratorially.
Our little feminine crowd swelled with the mix of boys. Talk was light and charged and filled with obvious flirtations, which I couldn't avoid even if I wanted to. Instead, I flirted back, just like the other G- House pledges, smiling coyly and twisting my new blonde hair like any of them.
The boys were all "we" could talk about after they left.
"I think that one liked you Stacy."
Pam caught my eye.
"Really? Which one?" I asked with as much excitement as I could muster.
"The tall one with the broad shoulders."
"You THINK so?!"
"He WAS kind of cute, wasn't he?"
One of the other girls jumped in.
"Cute?! Stacy. He was out and out HOT! And he wanted you!"
The other girls laughed. I tried to add a happy little pride to my forced giggle of a smile.
There were more clothes, and more boys. The sheer volume was overwhelming and I was exhausted from it all when we got home. After dinner, House Mistress Janet gave me a slip of paper with an address and number.
"You'll want to call you're parents," she said.
It wasn't my parents address or number.
Janet kept talking as if nothing were unusual.
"I'm sure they want to hear from you; and how you've pledged here at G- House. You should call them regularly, like a good daughter would."
I stared in disbelief, thinking how impossible it would be to make that call. I then thought of my real Dad's reaction to a similar call from the other "Brian" at B-House. Janet read my gaping blank stare perfectly.
"Don't worry. Steve and I talked to both sets of parents. They know. They think it's kind of funny actually."
Back in our room; I stared at the number for a long while. I couldn't dial.
I just stared at the phone, which startled me when it rang. Adri picked up.
"Stacy. It's for you. It's a BOY!"
"It's Brian from B-House!"
I tried to add a look of giddy excitement as I took the phone.
"Hello?" I said.
"Stacy? Hi. It's me. Brian."
His voice sounded, well, boyish.
"Yeah. Hi. Did you get a slip of paper from your House Mistress?"
"Maybe we should meet first. You know. Get to know each other a little bit before calling home."
"Can I come by now?"
I looked over at Pam, who didn't hear what "Brian" was saying but who was watching me closely.
"Oh that would be wonderful. I'll be ready."
"Great. Bye, uh, Stacy."
"See you soon Brian."
I hung up the phone; paused; and turned to my three roommates excitedly.
"He's coming here!"
Erin took the opportunity to give me another lesson.
"Next time say something like, 'Umm hmm. Wait! He's coming HERE?! I have to get ready! Do I look alright?' Just saying umm hmm isn't the kind of thing we would say if a boy was coming for one of us."
I corrected myself and allowed them to show me how to do a quick primp for a boy. One of the girls from another part of the house poked her head in.
"There's a boy downstairs for you Stacy."
"He's HERE?! I'm not ready! How do I look? Do I look OK?"
"You look perfect Stacy."
"OK," I sighed, pretending to smooth my skirt out nervously. "Wish me luck!"
I caught "Brian's" eye as I came down the stairs. I think both of us were stunned. There was no other boy in the entranceway. But the boy I saw looked NOTHING like a girl. He had a short haircut, broad shoulders, and a casual confidence that screamed "boy". There were no breasts at all, just a broad chest that made it look like Brian worked out even. The weirdest (and ego crushing) part was seeing that this Brian looked so much better as a boy than I did, which only made me realize just how convincing I looked as a young woman.
"Hi Stacy," he said smiling a little sheepishly.
"Hi Brian," I answered, finding it strange to call him by my own name.
"Can we go somewhere?"
"I don't think we're going to have much privacy here."
"Feel like a little walk then?"
"That would be great," I said in my pretty little voice.
Brian held the door for me and I walked out with him. Looking back down the path to the house, I saw a lot of faces in windows.
"They're looking at us," I said. "Give me your hand."
"Maybe we should hold hands. You know. For the act."
I put my dainty little hand in his. My pretty polished fingers looked so weirdly right twined with his. Brian was taller and bigger than I. Even though I knew who we were, I actually felt feminine in "his" presence. He started talking.
"Holding hands is good. It fits with an idea I had. I was thinking Stacy. Maybe we could be girlfriend and boyfriend."
"Hear me out. We both know who we really are. Right? And we're supposed to look and act like the real things. I'm supposed to be interested in women."
"And I'm supposed to be gaga over boys," I said completing his thought.
"Yeah. So I was thinking. We can be girlfriend and boyfriend and avoid that whole thing. And there's another benefit."
He took a crumpled slip of paper with my parent's phone number on it out of his pocket. Suddenly, I was jealous that he even had pockets, but I pushed the thought aside to listen.
"If we're dating, I tell this set of parents how my girlfriend is doing."
"And I can say how my boyfriend is doing. It's a great idea Brian."
We walked and got to know each other a little. We stayed in character, mainly because other people were passing as we walked. It started getting cooler in the start-of-school weather.
"This dress isn't so warm," I complained. "Maybe you should walk me back."
"It is pretty on you though."
"Thanks," I said actually blushing.
"I mean it. You look very pretty Stacy."
Brian couldn't hide a slight disappointment behind his sincere comment. I somehow knew that "he" wasn't thrilled to admit that I made for a prettier Stacy.
"And you look amazingly handsome," I said with a similar tone.
"This is going to be an interesting challenge. Isn't it?"
"It sure is, but it doesn't change the fact that it's getting cold. We should go."
He put his arm around me and drew me into him. However you wanted to look at us, we were a guy and a girl, which made it easy for me to nestle into him further for warmth as we walked. There were more faces in the windows when we made it back.
"I think you're going to have to kiss me to make this work Brian."
"I was going to say that a lipstick mark might be good for me to come home with," he laughed.
He lowered his head. I actually had to lean up on my toes for our lips to touch. I felt that wave of femininity wash over me again as I yielded to his more masculine presence. It was a good kiss. It didn't feel like an act.
"I liked that," I said looking up into his eyes afterwards.
"I did too."
"Maybe we won't have to act so much after all."
"Maybe not," he smiled.
He left after the door closed and my pledgemates descended upon me inside. They demanded to know EVERYTHING. Like a giddy school girl, I went into all the excited details of holding hands; getting cold; him holding me close; and the kiss.
I heard a strange voice answer my call.
"Hi. I'm calling from G-House, one of the sororities here."
"I know. It sounds exciting dear. Here. Let me get your father on the line."
"Stacy?" a deep voice said.
"Hello Sweetie," he said hesitantly.
"Before I tell you two anything else," I said quickly, "I met a boy named Brian."
"Brian?" they said almost together.
"HE is a beautify boy. HE could almost be like a sister to me."
"Ohhhhhh," my new mother said catching on. Then I heard her say to my new father in the background, "The boy she switched with hon."
"Ohhhhhh," my new father said to her also in the background.
He spoke up, back on the line with me.
"How is he doing?"
"He's doing fine. Fraternity life seems to suit him. No troubles. Since we've met, I think he's even having fun with it."
"That's sweet of you to tell us Dear," my new mom said.
The conversation was strangely normal, even though I spent most of it talking about my "boyfriend". I talked to Brian not long after I got off with them. His experience was very similar.
The days ticked by slowly and my intensive Stacy-training was only broken by G-House rituals, initiations, and whatever time I could spare for my boyfriend, Brian.
"Registration is tomorrow," he said.
"So is induction. We're going through the final initiation ceremony tomorrow night."
"Yeah. So is B-House. Well. Here are the classes I need you to sign up for."
"You mean we're going to have to sign up for each other?"
"I guess so. I don't see how we get around it."
"But there'll be I.D.'s and signups and everything else Brian."
"You have a better idea Stacy."
"Maybe we can get our houses to let us register as"
"Nope," he cut in. "I can't tell you how many pushups Steve made me do for even asking. I thought I was going to blow it for all of us."
"Shit," I whispered so that only he could here.
"That's not so ladylike," he whisper-teased back.
"Seriously Brian. What are we going to do?"
"Here's the class list."
"Mathematics. Ugh! I do OK in math, I guess, but I just hate it."
"You really do sound like a girl. I just happen to like it."
I game him my list, a bunch of business classes. It was his turn to cringe.
But there was nothing for it. We signed up for each other's classes in roles that had been relentlessly drilled into us. I stared at my pretty laminated I.D. picture in disbelief. Brian's came out good too. He looked handsome. I was in a daze all day, barely thinking about the induction ceremony at all. How could we fix things if no one was ever to know? How could we later go to the administration, when we couldn't tell them any of it?
It was hard not to get wrapped up in the nervous excitement of the induction ceremony as we all got dressed up for it. I wore an ankle length cream-colored dress with frilly short sleeves and exposed shoulder blades on my back. Matching pumps and tasteful pearl jewelry made me look much more sophisticated than I was prepared to see.
There was singing; there were candles; there were simple tests and group oaths. With a little air-kiss near both cheeks from Janet (to not spoil out makeup), I was inducted into G-House as a full member of the sorority. I was now Sister Stacy.
Brian and I both assumed that membership would simply transfer to our respective houses; that upon initiation, our "challenge" would end and we could go back to our normal selves. But no one said anything after the ceremony. No one treated me differently. I chalked it up to them not wanting to spoil the congratulatory dinner at a local restaurant, which was planned since we were all dressed up anyway. But nothing was said after dinner either. No one talked about changing me back or bringing me to B-House. No one was saying goodbye.
I was getting worried as we undressed later and my roommates were putting on their nightclothes.
"I don't get it," I said in my Stacy-voice out of habit.
"Get what?" Pam asked.
"When is this all supposed to end? When do I go back to B-House?"
House Mistress Janet knocked before entering.
"Hi Sisters," she beamed.
"Hi Mistress," we responded automatically after the ceremony.
"This isn't official," she smiled. "I'm just Sister Janet right now."
It was too much. I had to speak up.
"When is this all supposed to end? When do I go back to B-House?"
"Back? You're not part of B-House Stacy. You're a sister of G-House, and always will be."
"What? Like an honorary thing?"
"There's nothing honorary about it. You're a full member of the sorority. No one is allowed to know our secrets, our rituals, the very soul of our sisterhood without being a member Stacy."
"You'll let me stay here as a guy?"
"No one is ever to know Stacy. Ever."
I stared at her in disbelief. At that moment the phone rang. Adri picked up. She always picked up.
"It's Brian," she said handing the phone to me.
"This is bad Stacy."
"I know. I'm talking to Janet right now."
"Then you know. What are we going to do? No. Wait. Call me back when she leaves."
"I love you."
"Love you too Brian."
Janet looked at me with an almost sad look of pity in her eyes.
"He's such a nice boy," she said sincerely.
"I know." After a pause I added, "So you're saying I'm stuck like this?"
"Too many people know you as Stacy now. You have to keep up appearances. No one can know."
"Bull shit," I said in an almost forgotten Brian-voice that seemed coarse and ill-placed in that setting.
"I know," she said softly. "But hear me out."
"I'm listening," I seethed.
"No one can know because they would close this house down. They would close ALL the B-Houses down and expose its members to ridicule. It would devastate all the sisterhood back to its very beginning. It would devastate the three upperclass sisters who went through the same thing as you."
"Here? Right now?" I asked in shocked disbelief and falling into my Stacy-voice a little too easily. "Who?"
I couldn't believe it. I couldn't think of any of the girls who might not have been born that way. Thinking of how I looked in comparison to my former pledgemates, I realized that they might actually have been some of the prettier ones of their year's.
"No one can ever know," she repeated simply. "It would destroy them, and others like them, all across the country. Could you do that to them? Could you do that to your sisters? Don't you care for them at all?"
"I do but. I. I just don't know what"
I started crying. Big heaving sobs gripped me as I wept like the girl, which I ironically worked so hard to become. My roommates, my sisters, and Janet gathered and put their arms around me to comfort me. They sobbed along with me.
"I love you all," I finally managed to say. "I'll keep the secret."
"You will?" Pam asked simply.
"Um hm. I could never hurt so many people I care about."
"Oh Stacy! We'll help you get through it. We'll protect you and make sure everything's OK."
We cried some more. Janet eventually left us and I called back Brian. He shared a similar story. After saying we'd figure out a way to deal with this, we hung up and drifted to sleep.
We talked long the next day together. Dropping out seemed like our only option; but we had already paid for our classes and truly "no one knew". Reluctance to part with each other might have played some part of it; but we were comfortable enough in our "roles" that we decided to go through the semester so we could transfer the credits.
The call home to my new parents was difficult to make. I told them the lie that Brian and I had come up with together, that a clerical error was going to make it hard to stop playing our roles for the semester. I told them that to get away with it; we had to keep up appearances and that I would still be calling them. Telling them of a planned visit with my boyfriend, Brian, seemed to make it go easier on them too. By the end of the call, they were laughing at the silliness of college pranks gone bad and reminiscing about their own old stories.
Classes were hard, but Brian was a good tutor. I studied extra hard because my grades were going to follow Brian to her next school. Being Stacy got easier every day. Putting on makeup or doing my hair became just a part of my morning routine. I stopped thinking about the fact that my shoes had heels on them or that I was in a dress at all. They started being "just clothes". The feminine gestures, mannerisms, choices of words, everything, became natural out of sheer habit.
Brian and I really did fall for each other too. But it was hard to see him as the woman. I couldn't even remember what she looked like the first time I saw her as a pledge. The illusion was so complete that both of us were reluctant to spoil it. Our making out was mainly just kissing. I loved the feel of his weight-calloused hands sliding over my diet shaped thighs, but we never progressed beyond it.
"Stacy!" my new mom beamed at Thanksgiving. "You look beautiful! And this must be Brian! Here. Let me have a look at you!"
She looked at Brian with a big smile on her face before continuing.
"Why aren't you the handsome one?! Come in the two of you. Come in! Jack! They're here!"
There was a little awkwardness with my new father at first. After I hugged him and left a little lipstick on his cheek, he introduced himself to Brian with a handshake. It was an uncomfortably large family gathering. The awkward scene played itself out several more times but soon settled into the abnormally normal chaos of a large holiday feast. In a bizarre way, it would have felt stranger if I weren't helping in the kitchen with the other ladies; while "the boys" drank beer in front of a football game. After all my practice, it was so easy to talk about each other's outfits, makeup, and Hollywood gossip. My situation was forgotten and I was simply another of the girls. The same seemed to be happening in the other room with Brian.
Somehow we made it through.
"That wasn't as bad as I thought it would be," he said on our way back to school.
"You must have been bored out of your skull talking girl-talk in the kitchen!"
"I really wasn't. Maybe I'm used to it, but they all seemed so nice. What about you? What do you know about football?"
"More than I ever would have imagined. It's hard to avoid it back at B- House. But that's OK. It's actually pretty interesting once you start to understand it. Still. Even I can't believe I was able to participate in a conversation about a nickel defense."
"You really don't know?"
"I haven't been around it like you. I'd watch some in high school and could follow the games on TV, but I never got THAT deep into it before coming here."
A similar play of events took place at my parents' house for Christmas break. But with the semester over, Brian and I were suddenly confronted by our plan.
"It might be simpler to finish the whole year," he said.
"I think it might," I added nervously, both of us knowing what that meant.
We signed up for the spring semester, thinking we had deferred any real decisions until the summer. We were wrong. Though everyone was happy to see us back; House Mistress Janet took me to the side.
"No one can ever know Stacy."
"I know that."
"Another semester means you're not just out of high school. Your body's eventually going to go through some bigger changes."
"I'll be fine Janet. No one will find out. No one will know."
"We can't risk it," she said and I felt my world falling apart. "If you're going to stay, you need to prevent it."
"You're shaving once a week now."
How did she know? She continued.
"We have access to medications, to hormones. I'd like you to start taking them."
"No one can know Stacy! Rachel can administer the shots for you."
"She's one of the others?"
"She knows what to do. She can help you, like you'll help someone else someday. She'll be waiting for you."
I dialed Brian as soon as Janet left.
"You're not going to believe what Janet just asked be to do!"
"Let me guess. Hormones?"
"How did. Ohhhhh. Well?"
"Someone here is waiting to give me shots as we speak."
"Me too," I mumbled. "Are you going to go through with it?"
"Only if you do," he said with a slight quiver in his voice.
There was a long silence before I finally spoke.
"Being Stacy isn't so bad," I whispered.
"You are a beautiful woman."
"And you're a handsome man Brian."
"I guess we're getting shots then."
"I guess so," I answered nervously.
"They're talking about mastectomies you know."
"They didn't say anything to me."
"We'll. They'll be growing instead on you. You can get your mastectomies another day."
"And you can get implants," I said with a forced chuckle. "I'm scared Brian."
"So am I, but I love you."
"I love you too Brian, but what does that have to"
"It has everything to do with it Stacy. Think about it. I'm in love with someone named Stacy. You're in love with a boy named Brian. We never even MET our past selves. I don't want to lose you. I don't want to lose the woman I love."
"I don't want to lose you either. I love you Brian."
We took our respective shots. G-House and B-House funded some other changes before graduation too. Though I promised myself I wouldn't, I ended up as the one giving shots to another freshman several years later.
After several more holiday visits, our families came to accept Brian and I as if nothing were different at all. They were all together, sitting in a beautifully decorated church. An organ swelled.
"Are you ready Sweetie," my 'new' Dad said with a hand at my lacy white elbow.
He led me down the long isle as the wedding march played. Amongst family and friends, I felt a joy like I had never imagined as I slowly stutter- stepped toward an awaiting Brian, the man I was about to marry.
I felt all eyes on me. There were whispers of how beautiful I looked in my gown. I was amazed that I had gotten down to my target weight and fit into it at all. The way the beaded bodice pinched my waist only accented my now-real c-sized cleavage pushing up over it. I saw the world through the wonderful gauze of my veil as "Daddy" brought me to Brian's side.
I couldn't believe that I stood there in a wedding gown, someone's bride.
There were words, vows, rings. It was all a blur.
"Do you, Stacy, take Brian to be your lawfully wedded husband; to love, honor, and obey; in sickness and in health; for richer or poorer; forever and always; till death do you part?"
"And do you, Brian, take Stacy to be your lawfully wedded wife; to love, honor, and cherish; in sickness and in health; for richer or poorer; forever and always; till death do you part?"
"Then by the power vested in my by God and the State of Connecticut, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."
Brian lifted my veil back and tilted my chin up toward him. He slowly leaned in to me with a look of adoration on his firmly chiseled face. He kissed me as a thunderous applause erupted and we started our new lives together.
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