A cottage by the sea.
Fiction by Johnny Cumlately
Is cross dressing hereditary? Is it in the genes? Brian still doesn't know, but a legacy from his aunt changed his life.
Brian Parry had been an only child, born to rather elderly parents. He had done well at school but when he was 17, David, his dad, died suddenly of a heart attack. After he died, his mother became aware that there had been large debts which had virtually eliminated any inheritance and meant that the family home would have to sold. Her grief and worry about this led to her own death only a few months later. All Brian's hopes of going to university to study law had therefore vanished and he not only had to cope with trying to sort out his father's affairs, but needed to start to earn his own living.
In one respect, he was lucky. His involvement in the sale of the house brought him into contact with Mr Wright, an estate agent. Mr Wright was about 60 and was the owner of the small agency. He recognised Brain's abilities and agreed to take him on as a trainee on a modest salary which was just sufficient to pay the rent on a one-room flat and cover basic subsistence. Brian learnt fast and was soon an indispensable assistant so that when Mr Wright wished to retire 7 years later, he was happy for Brian to take over the business which prospered under his management.
Brian's only living relative was his aunt, Mary - his father's sister. Mary had never married and therefore carried the same surname of Parry. Brian was 32 when he had a letter from a solicitor telling him that Mary had died suddenly and that he was the sole beneficiary of her small estate. She had been more than 10 years younger than her brother and was then in her early sixties. She owned a cottage just outside the seaside village of Tanmouth on the South Coast where she had lived on a small pension as a retired school teacher having taken early retirement some years earlier, before she went to live in Tanmouth. Brian had made a point of keeping in touch with her over the years and had managed to visit her a few times. He remembered her as a very nice well dressed middle aged lady who was always glad to see him. He cancelled a business commitment so that he could go to the funeral which was attended by the solicitor and just few local people. He had to return home afterwards but arranged to come down again to deal with the disposal of her cottage and effects.
A few days later, Brian found himself putting the key in the door of the cottage as he had so often needed to do in a professional capacity with various properties in the course of his work as an estate agent. The cottage was up a narrow lane behind the village which went on only as far as a farm. It had a superb view over the bay and the nearest other house was a couple of hundred yards nearer the village.
His feelings on this occasion, however, were much more personal as he found the cottage meticulously clean and tidy, as if Mary had just gone out for a walk. It was all exactly as he remembered from his few visits. The furnishings and knickknacks bore ample evidence of their female former owner and he wandered around rather lost in his own thoughts. Only a wilted vase of flowers and a small quantity of stale food in the kitchen betrayed Mary's absence.
Upstairs, he went into the larger of the two bedrooms which had been Mary's room. There was a faint small of her perfume and he idly opened several drawers and wardrobe doors. He was surprised how many clothes she had possessed, as he knew that she had lived a very secluded life. More surprising was finding a couple of wigs in one of the drawers. He remembered Mary as always wearing her hair quite short and slightly greying, but these had long shoulder length brown hair.
On an impulse, he put one on his head and looked in the mirror. He did not recognise the person looking back at him. She was a rather butch looking girl with a five o'clock shadow. He found powder and a lipstick on the dressing table and a few minutes later, the girl in the mirror certainly looked more feminine. He took a floral print dress out of the wardrobe and held it against him, feeling both guilty and thrilled. Although he knew he was looking at his own image, the girl he saw was a living person. She moved when he moved and smiled when he smiled. It was a moment he would never forget as he knew instinctively that he must explore a new part of himself which he did not previously known existed. He had never before wanted to dress up, but now he knew that he would not be able to resist trying on all Mary's clothes.
He stripped right off and put on a pair of panties and a girdle which controlled his growing erection. A bra needed stuffing with tissues to give some semblance of having breasts. He put the dress back on and a pair of open-toed shoes with two inch heels which forced him to step very carefully as he went downstairs into the kitchen to make some tea.
He was sitting in the living room when he heard a car stop outside. It was too late to retreat before there was a knock on the door. Feeling very self-conscious, he opened it.
"Hello. I'm Barbara from the farm up the road. I saw your car so just stopped by to meet you. You must be .." she paused "... Mary's niece. She was always a bit vague about relations. I thought she once told me she had a nephew."
Brian had to think up a suitable reply very quickly. "No. I'm Briony Parry. You're right, I am Mary's niece. As you have probably guessed, Mary has left this cottage to me and I will have to decide whether to keep it as a weekend retreat."
"Well, it's nice to see you. I do hope you decide to keep it. If there is anything you want, we're only up the road at the farm. Don't hesitate to ask. I won't keep you now. 'Bye."
Brian waited a few seconds for the car to drive on before sitting down to gather his wits. It had been a difficult moment. "Briony", he thought. "That's a pretty name". It was the first which had come into his mind, maybe because it was close to "Brian". He also realised that if he ever met Barbara again it would have to be as Briony. As far as Tanmouth was concerned, he was committed.
He went back upstairs and an hour later had tried on about a dozen different outfits. Several more dresses, skirts and blouses and trousers and sweaters. He was delighted to find they all fitted him well - a bit tight round the waist perhaps but he could cope with that. Finally, he put just a few of them and some accessories and makeup in a suitcase which he found in the second bedroom, put all the others carefully away and put his own clothes back on. He locked up the cottage and set out on the three hour drive home.
Well before he reached his flat in the city, he had made a decision. He would keep the cottage and its contents. Next morning, he phoned the solicitor.
"Hello, it's Brian Parry here. Yes. I went to the cottage with my sister. We want to keep it. Can you transfer ownership to her? Her name is Briony. Yes, Briony Parry. Yes, of course I'll sign the necessary documents. Perhaps you could mail them to me so that I can get them signed. Good. Thank you."
Brian also went on the internet and did a lot of research. He found out a lot about cross dressing and specialist shops from which he ordered some breast forms and a gaff which arrived in a couple of days so that he was able to try them on with the clothes he had brought from the cottage. The forms fitted beautifully under one of Mary's bras and gave him a nice female profile and the gaff did a reasonable job in hiding his "bits". With a bit of practice with make up, he thought he made quite a passable girl
The days passed slowly as he dealt with business commitments before he could pay another visit to the cottage. He planned to take a long weekend off and was lucky now to have a reliable assistant to look after the business while he was away. He decided to go "en femme" and not take any male clothes with him so that he would have to "dress" all the time at the cottage.
Now, as Briony, she did not want her neighbours in the city to see her leave so got up early and was away before 6 o'clock with just the suitcase and some groceries in the car. She wore black slacks and a tee shirt. There was little traffic that early and she arrived in time to make herself a late breakfast.
On the door mat was a small pile of mail addressed to Mary, mostly adverts. But one hand-written envelope caught her eye. It was just addressed "Briony". Inside, the note read "Lovely to have met you. Sorry if I arrived at an inopportune moment. Do please walk up to the farm for a coffee next time you come. Mary was a very close friend and we need to have a long chat. I can give you a lot of help. Barbara." Intriguing! So later that morning, Briony set off up the road. It was about a quarter of a mile to the farm which initially appeared deserted. But there were sounds of a tractor working in a field and an old collie dog came to greet her, barking loudly.
Soon, Barbara came to the door. "Hello again! So you got my note. Please come in. I'll put the kettle on." She showed Briony into the traditional old front parlour with rather dated furniture. It was obviously only used occasionally. Coffee and biscuits soon appeared.
They exchanged small talk for a few minutes. Nice weather. Not much traffic? etc. Eventually, Barbara said "Mary was a lovely person and I shall miss her. She lived in the cottage here for about 10 years but was a bit of a recluse. I was the one who discovered her lying in the kitchen. She had had a massive heart attack. Did you know she was transgendered? She used to be a man but I always knew her as a woman."
Briony was completely taken aback but several things now fell into place. Mary had never married. The short hair and the wigs. The collection of clothes and how well they fitted Brian. Barbara's initial surprise when Briony and not Brian opened the door.
"I can see that you didn't know, but that's why we need to talk and why I think I can help you. Your efforts at makeup last week were not very convincing, and it was almost like seeing Mary when she first moved in."
"Oh dear! Was it as bad as that? I had never dressed in girl's clothes before, nor even had the urge to. But when I went into Mary's room, I just felt I had to put on one of the wigs and then the dress and some makeup and soon after, you came knocking on the door and I had to invent a story. But now it's as if there is another part of me I've never known about before and which is bursting to come out into the open.. That's why I here as Briony."
"It's certainly odd that you did that without knowing about Mary's true gender."
"Could it be hereditary? It's 15 years since my father died - he was a lot older than Mary - and I have no idea if he cross dressed secretly. I have an old photograph of my grandparents with two young boys who I must now assume to have been Mary and my father. There is a strong family resemblance between them and me. Anyway, all I want now is to be able to be Briony whenever I'm here at the cottage. I shall have to be Brian when I'm at home in my flat where I own an estate agency and must earn a living. Fortunately, I have a very able assistant who can cope in my absence so hopefully I can be here as Briony fairly often."
"Well. I can assure you that you will be very welcome in the village."
"Did many people know about Mary?"
"I think it must have been quite well known but we take things at face value and I never once heard anyone refer to it. Dr Clark must have known as she was his patient. He is a wise old bird, a very experienced GP. On a couple of occasions, I collected prescriptions for her and know that she took hormone pills."
"Do you know if she ever had surgery?"
"No, I don't know. But I don't think so. She certainly had female breasts but those were probably due to the hormones."
The conversation drifted on to more mundane things, before Barbara said "I suggest that I take you down to the village tomorrow morning and introduce you to Delia and Sam who run the village shop. Delightful couple who know everything about everyone around here. There will be much less speculation if I introduce you. You probably need to buy provisions anyway. About 10 o'clock? I'll check over your make up before we go!"
"Thank you. That's very kind of you. See you then."
Briony went back to the cottage confident she had made a good friend.
It was a lovely day and the tiny garden needed a bit of tidying up, so she put on some pull-on cord slacks and green wellies. The cottage gave onto the lane at the front with just a couple of window boxes, while at the back it was a typical cottage garden with a tiny patio. There was no grass but a profusion of perennial flowers which left little room for weeds so there was not much work to be done.
She spent the evening rummaging around and found a file of old papers in the bottom of a desk. There was another copy of the old photograph with the names David and Martin on the back and some letters which confirmed that the other boy was in fact Martin, who became Mary, and that her father, David, had known all about it. But attitudes were much stricter then and it was all hushed up.
Briony also found a small cupboard in the bathroom which contained medicines. Most were standard remedies for common problems but in a paper bag were boxes containing about three months supply of hormone tablets. She read the leaflet in the one of the boxes very carefully. It was clear that they had been prescribed by the doctor to maintain Mary's hormone balance as a female. The instructions were to take one a day. Briony could not resist the temptation to take a pill from the packet and swallow it, wondering what the result might be.
Next morning, she heard the car stop outside the cottage and met Barbara at the door. Barbara looked Briony up and down and said "I can see I'll have to take your makeup in hand. You really do need help with it." But 10 minutes later, Briony looked in the mirror and immediately felt confident about going to the village. Barbara had painted her finger and toe nails which were visible in the open toed sandals. With her long brown hair and another floral dress, she had a lovely cool summery look.
They went into the village shop, one of those establishments which seem to sell everything from newspapers to groceries with a post office counter. "Delia, I've brought Briony down to introduce her. She is Mary's niece. You can probably guess that from the family resemblance. She's going to keep the cottage as a weekend retreat, but I have a suspicion that before long it will have cast a spell over her so that she will want to make it her permanent home - just as Mary did."
"Very pleased to meet you, My Dear." Delia had a loud voice which could be heard all over the shop, so that several customers turned to look. "Sam - this is Briony, Mary's niece!"
Sam's head appeared from round the door of the storeroom. "Hello," he rumbled in a deep voice. "We miss Mary. She was such a nice person." Briony noted he said person not lady.
"I'm sure you will be very welcome in the village and soon get to know people. I expect the vicar will call - he likes to know everyone, especially if he thinks they might swell his congregation!"
Briony made a few purchases and was introduced to more customers before Barbara took her back up the hill to the cottage. After making herself a snack lunch, she decided to enjoy the warm sunshine. She found a lounger in the garden shed which she set up on the small patio and then went upstairs to find something suitable to sunbathe in. There was a bikini and a colourful sundress.
She tried the bikini. The top was OK with her breast forms but the bottom just didn't look right over her gaf so she settled for the sundress which was perhaps fortunate because as she lay reading she heard a car stop outside. The Rev Watkins had not wasted much time in coming to meet the new arrival!
She made him a cup of tea while they exchanged pleasantries.
"So you're Mary's niece. Mary was such a lovely - er - lady but she seemed to keep herself very much to herself. I think the only time I saw her in church was one Christmas."
"I'm afraid I'm not a regular church goer either and I shall only be spending the odd weekend here. Maybe if I was here all the time, I would make the effort."
"Never mind. It's still good to meet everyone hereabouts whether they come to church or not."
After quite a long chat, Briony was quite glad when she eventually listened to his car going back down the lane.
Soon it was time to drive back to the city. She tidied up the cottage and put another selection of Mary's clothes in the suitcase. She wore the black slacks so that she would not be too conspicuous if she met any neighbours when she got home again. She liked them having a side zip instead of a fly opening - it somehow made her feel more female. When she was only a few miles from home, she pulled into a layby and reluctantly took off the wig and breast forms and became Brian again.
He took another pill before going to bed but did not sleep well. He realised that he needed something better than the gaf to hide his male bits. He went on the internet, found lots of information on chastity devices and decided on an expensive she-male belt from Neosteel in Germany. He ordered their measuring kit as he wanted to be sure that the measurements he sent them would be absolutely correct. It arrived in a few days and, having checked very carefully, he placed his order. Delivery was promised in 6 weeks as they are made to order.
He also looked up hormones and found several suppliers of pills and breast enlargement treatments and ordered some double strength creams. Just as he had tried on Mary's clothes on an impulse, he did not stop to consider the long term effects of taking hormones. He was just determined that Briony should grow natural breasts with a modest cleavage.
Over the next few weeks he spent as much time as possible at the cottage, where, under Barbara's tuition, Briony became adept at make up and learned a lot about just being a female! She met more local people and began tentatively to take part in village social events.
The Neosteel belt arrived and fitted perfectly, although he took several days to get used to wearing it and at first kept the keys handy. He found it frustrating as he still had nocturnal erections which it restricted. Briony loved it as she felt more feminine knowing that her male bits were safely locked away.
Fate then took an unexpected hand. He received an approach from a large group of estate agents asking if would consider selling out to them. The figure suggested for the goodwill of his business was generous and, together with the sale of his city flat, would buy a modest pension for Briony. He did not need any persuasion and was further reassured when the buyers said that they would offer his assistant a job as their local manager. The deal finally sealed Brian's ultimate demise and he immediately made plans to live in the cottage permanently as Briony.
He also hit a potential problem. His solicitor had previously sent the documents for the cottage but they had required a witness for both his and Briony's signature. His good friend Barbara had duly committed perjury on Briony's behalf! However, as Brian would in effect cease to exist, it now became necessary to put the record straight. Fortunately, the solicitor was sympathetic and was able to ensure that it was all duly sorted out. Brian arranged for all his mail etc. to be forwarded to Ms Briony Parry. The solicitor was the only person who knew.
So just six months after his first visit to the cottage, he sold all his furniture and most of his possessions. He gave his better male clothes to a charity shop and binned the rest except for just two sets of clothes for while the final packing up was done. He turned the key in the door of the flat for the last time, handed it in at the office and set out for the cottage. A few miles down the road, he stopped where there was a suitable waste skip, changed into Briony's clothes and rid himself of the last of his male things. His transformation was complete and final.
Briony settled happily into her new life in the cottage. She was determined to lead a normal life and not become a recluse as Mary had. She attended several village functions and slowly expanded her circle of new friends.
Barbara would look in frequently at the cottage on her way past and one day found Briony obviously unwell with a dose of 'flu. Barbara insisted on calling Dr Clark who gave her a thorough examination before prescribing a course of antibiotics. He noted that her breasts were showing signs of development and her nipples were sensitive and tender.
The doctor seemed happy to stop longer for a chat. "I got to know Mary quite well over the years. So she was your Aunt? She made the transition very well. I've seen several similar cases but had no idea it might be hereditary. Must be in the genes. Are there any other cases in your family?"
"Not as far as I know, but my Dad died when I was 17 and if he did cross dress, he kept it a close secret."
"Anyway, My Dear, I'm glad I've met you. You must expect more bodily changes as time goes on. I'll be happy to prescribe more hormones whenever you need them. Don't be afraid to come and see me if you need any help or advice." Thus was another example of how she was made welcome with no awkward questions.
One village function she attended was of particular interest as it concerned a planning application for a development of new housing which was causing a lot of local controversy. She felt that new housing for local people would be beneficial to the community but thought that the plans submitted were inappropriate and would not blend in with local architecture. She managed to catch the chairman's eye and was able to express this view to the meeting. Her comments received a good round of applause. Afterwards, she was approached by a man she recognised as Jim Snow, a local estate agent who asked what she did before coming to the village.
"I worked with an estate agent in the city." She held back from saying she was that agent, but said she had enjoyed being involved for many years in all aspects of the business, including what she said would now be given the grand title of Sales Executive.
"Are you planning to retire completely now you're here, or would you be interested in part time work? I need an assistant. Perhaps I could buy you lunch and we can discuss it further. How about tomorrow, 12.30 in the Bull's Head?" Briony enjoyed the lunch, at the end of which Mr Snow had proposed that she work part time on a very flexible basis and receive a commission on the sales she negotiated. This suited Briony well as it would give her an added interest as well as providing additional income.
Jack, another local friend, was a retired widower who obviously had taken rather a fancy to Briony. Whether he knew her back ground she did not then discover but tactfully kept him at arm's length. Nevertheless, he proved excellent company and they enjoyed several excursions and meals out together.
Briony has been at the cottage for nearly ten years now and there is little more to tell. She is a very happy and attractive spinster, leading a full and busy life. But underneath, she is still Brian. She doesn't want surgery but she now has a lovely full curvy feminine figure and real long soft hair.
No wonder Jack enjoys her company but he does now understand why their relationship can go no further.
Is it hereditary? Who knows?
Fiction by Johnny Cumlately
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