Becoming Antonia Part 24.

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Helga was able to tie up one of their girls in the corner with the puck, and I signaled Tracy for a double hit. She and I started at the two in the corner struggling for the puck.

Becoming Antonia Part 24

Written by Toni Trepasso
Edited by Holly Logan, with my many thanks to her.

 

The season came quickly. At least it was upon us quicker than I would have liked it. But it was nice to get to meet the girls on my new team away from the ice at that party Cindy and Tracy threw. Come to find out, a couple of the women on the team, were mothers, and a couple others, were also lesbian. It felt good to know that Tracy, Cindy and I weren’t the lone strangers in that department.

As the party started to wind down, Sarah and I were talking with Tracy about what to expect for the upcoming season, and Cindy was saying good bye to some of those who were leaving. During a break from that action, Cindy pulled me aside and asked if Sarah and I would stay until everyone else had left, saying that she had some things to talk about with me. I agreed, since I didn’t want to have anything stand in the way of being friends with Phantomss sister. Once the four of us were alone, and sitting in their kitchen, she started her interrogation of me.

“So Eric tells me you two were good friends in college.” she said, as if she were fishing for something.

“Alright,” I sighed, “what did Phantom tell you about me?”

“Not much. Just that you used to play hockey with him, and he thought you could help turn the team around.” Cindy told me.

“Did he tell you how he and I met?” I asked her.

“Just that you were in the same fraternity, before they got their charter.”

“Did he also tell you that it wasn’t a co-ed house?” I asked.

“No. I just assumed...” she started to look confused.

“Alright, did he ever mention that one of his brothers had a bad accident earlier this year?”

“Yeah, something about falling down from ‘Gomez’, (that is what they call the hill behind the U) and landing in a pool of something behind the Bio-Chem building at the U.”

“Alright, did he say anything else about what happened?”

“No, just that they rushed the guy to the hospital.” she told me, looking concerned.

“I need you both to swear that what I say here, gets repeated to no one.” I said, looking back and forth between Tracy and Cindy.

“If this is about you being a transsexual. He did mention that.” Cindy told me.

“Remind me to kill your brother next time I see him.” I said raising one eyebrow to her. “I’m not a transsexual. What I landed in behind the U however, did cause me to change into the woman you see before you.”

“Huh?” they both asked together.

“The pool of whatever, I landed in behind the Bio-Chem building, caused my DNA to think I was supposed to be a female. Here, look.” I said as I pulled the small photo book out of Sarah’s bag.

They took the book, and started to flip through the pages. They could watch me change, day by day for the two months I was in the hospital. As they worked their way through the book you could watch each of their jaws open a little farther with each passing page, from the shock at what they were seeing. On the last page, they both looked up at me, then back at the book and then back at me.

“I think you’re going to have to stand in line to kill my brother, Toni.” Cindy told me, not looking to happy about things. “That little shit never told me any of this. Not that it would have mattered. But here he made me think you were a TS, and you’re really a woman.”

“So you aren’t disturbed by any of this.” I asked and felt Sarah grab my hand for support.

“I’m more disturbed that my brother didn’t trust me enough to tell me the truth.” she told me with a smile. “Now I know why he was so cryptic when I was asking him about what kind of player you were.”

“I’m just a skater who is willing to sacrifice my body do keep the puck out of my team’s net.”

“No, you're just a skater who hits harder than any NHL player I’ve ever skated with.” Tracy piped in, which caused us all to giggle.

“Well, I think you’re safe from those hits now. Just remember, if you’re tied up in the corner, and you hear me yell, hit the deck, because it’s not going to be pretty.”

“I think you’re pretty.” Sarah finally broke her silence, and kissed me on the cheek.

My wife to be, and I headed for home, and I started to pack. Our first road trip started tomorrow, and I was going to be skating in my first “real” game since college almost ten years ago. We’d be skating against the LA Queens, and part of me couldn’t help but laugh at the fact of that name probably being better suited for a team in the San Francisco LGBT league. But they are the women’s semi pro franchise of the LA Kings, so I knew the game was going to be a tough one, as there was no love lost between the two organizations.

They’d both met last season in the first round of the playoffs, and after the fight that took place during the warmup skate, the Hot Flash only had one line to play the whole game with. The other thirteen women on the team had received three game suspensions each, for fighting. So needless to say The Queens swept the Hot Flash, in their best of five series. I knew there was still bad blood when there was a package sitting in the locker room after our last practice. Stacy opened the box to find a Ken̈) doll dressed in a Hot Flash jersey, and a skirt. The note in the box said, “Look out queer. Stay off our ice.”

Now I probably don’t need to say this, but I was shaken at the fact that these women had taken the time to not only threaten me, but someone had sewn up a replica jersey and sent me my first doll. I’d never owned one as a kid, yet, here I was with my own. Although be it a twisted representation of me. I knew I was biologically a woman, but for all intense and purposes, most of the team and the rest of the league viewed me as a trans-gender hockey player. I was a bit apprehensive about going to the game, but Tracy assured me that if they tried anything with me, they’d have to answer to her. So it made me feel a bit better, since she’s a bit bigger, and a whole lot more, if you’ll pardon the phrase, ‘butch’ than I am. Perhaps the other team wouldn’t give me too much shit in the game.

On the bus ride, I placed a call to Jen and told her that I’d leave five tickets in her name at “Will Call” for the game the following night. Since it would be good to have at least one person in the crowd that wouldn’t be booing my good plays and cheering when I got hit.

Once we checked into our hotel, as a team, we all went to dinner at a little place Stacy knew from when she went to college at UCLA. It wasn’t much to write home about, since it was supposed to be an Italian restaurant, and the food tasted more like what you’d find in a can at the supermarket. On the way back to the hotel, I wanted to stop at a news stand and picked up a couple of things to read.

I saw a picture of Jen on the cover of one of the local rags, and picked that up, along with a motorsports engineering magazine that I used to read when I was working in racing. Once back in my room, I started to read and was shocked that my friend was being lampooned in this rag.


“... I for one find it appalling that people in the public eye still choose to drive gas guzzling beasts. Take for instance Hollywood darling Jen Stevens, and our own Governor ‘Muscle Head’, they have been seen driving the worst offenders in the automotive industry, the Hummer H1. Ms. Stevens also is known to take weekend pleasure trips down the PCH in her Dodge Viper.

We as citizens of the Great State of California, should let these eco-offenders know that we will not stand for their gross disregard for the environment. There should be a boycott of any project Ms. Stevens is involved with, and Governor ‘Muscle Head’ needs to be impeached.”

I knew that this was the nonsensical rambling of a deranged lunatic tree hugging hippy wanna-be, but Jen is my friend, and I knew that I had to do something to help her out. I was trying to figure out what, when I came across an article in the latest ‘Racing Engineer’, that told of how normal cars and trucks could be converted to E85 Ethanol. As I read the piece, I saw that it wasn’t that hard to convert a car over, so that would help solve the problem with the Viper, but since her Hummer was diesel powered, I’d have to come up with something else.

The next article I read was about Hydrogen Fuel Cell vehicles. The piece went on to say that LA had the greatest number of refueling stations of anywhere in the country, and that a company out of Santa Fe was producing them just as fast as the orders came in. I saw that the whole operation wasn’t that difficult to do, just do an engine swap, plumb the new fuel lines, and swap out the engine control unit. The company claimed that they produced horsepower level on par with most normal diesel engines and could be pumped up even higher, yet still retain the fuel efficiency of a four-cylinder. I had a plan of attack, now all I needed was to get Jen to agree. I mean, it’s the least I could do, since she’s been there to help show me that just because my body has changed, doesn’t mean that my life has to be any less fulfilling.

We all headed to the arena early, so we could try to avoid any possible problems. Judging from the package the team got, or should I say I received, that was addressed to the team, there could be an issue with either the fans, the other team, or both. I put on my headphones and tried to push that all out of my mind while I listened to some Dropkick Murphy’s. Their song “Time To Go” has always gotten me up for a hockey game, and it seemed fitting since our ‘away’ jerseys were about a perfect match to the song.

“Go, go, Black and Gold!
Old time hockey, bar the door,
Clear the track, it’s all out war.
Light the lamp, throw the hit,
Black and Gold, never quit.”

Once out on the ice for the opening skate, you could feel the tension between the two squads. I’ve seen some rivalries from the different teams I’ve played with in rugby, but this seemed more like we were about to go to war, as opposed to play a game. Tracy and I took our spots on the bench since the coach was putting in the ‘agility’ line, as she called it, first. That meant Cindy, Stephanie, Beth, Tina, and Sasha would start out for us. There was almost a fight before the puck drop, but both teams held out, until that hard black disk hit the ice.

Once that happened, Cindy, Beth, Tina, and Sasha were knocked down and that left Stephanie to try to break up a five on one break away. Our only saving grace was having Stacy in the net. She made a quick glove save and you could hear the ‘BOO-birds’ show up in earnest. After having a replay of the opening face off, followed by an icing call against us, when Stephanie cleared the puck, the coach tapped Tracy and me on the shoulders and told us to end this. We both looked at one another and I couldn’t help but smile when I saw that look in her eyes that I know I get when it becomes ‘hitting time.’

Helga, Bridget, Mary, Tracy and I went out and got ready for a few minutes of fun. On the drop of the puck, I elbowed the girl I was standing next to, right in the jaw, and saw her hit the ice. With no whistle, the play went on, but I could still see her laying there. Helga was able to tie up one of their girls in the corner with the puck, and I signaled Tracy for a double hit. She and I started at the two in the corner struggling for the puck.

‘SEX WITH BANSHEES!’ I shouted at Helga, who knew from watching Cindy to fall to the ice.

Tracy and I somehow managed to time it just right, because we both hit the poor girl from the other team at the exact same time. Her helmet came off, and she went down like a sack of wet mush. That was when all hell broke loose. Both benches cleared, and it became ‘go time’, for both teams.

One girl tried to swing her stick at me, but I quickly yanked her off her skates, and had mounted her, almost like a UFC fighter. After the first couple of punches, I broke through her face shield and her face started catching the full force of my blows. Someone yanked me off her, and before I could react, I caught a handful of punches to the jaw. But that soon ended when I clotheslined the girl and helped her lay down on the ice. She looked tired, so I thought I'd help her out by giving her a little nap.

I looked up and saw that Cindy was getting doubleteamed by two of the bigger girls on the other team, so I went to help her out. Apparently Tracy had the same idea, as we each grabbed one of them and squared off like a classic hockey fight. The girl I was with, made a grab for me, and I quickly brushed her off, shoved her head down and pulled the back of her jersey up over her head. By the time the refs got to me, I had only landed a few punches, but that was enough for them.

Tracy and I both received fifteen minute majors for fighting, while a handful of the other team was ejected completely. I wasn’t happy having to sit in the penalty box to watch the remainder of the period, and I made my frustration known as I threw both my helmet and my stick at the glass on my way in. The only good thing about it all, was the other team knew we weren't going to take their shit anymore, so the rest of the period went pretty clean.

With about a minute left before intermission, I heard a tap on the glass. I really didn’t want to deal with any rabid fans at this point, so I grabbed my stick and turned to face whoever was trying to get my attention. To my pleasant surprise, it was Jen, and I quickly lightened my mood up. She smiled and got into a play fighting stance, which caused both Tracy and me to crack up laughing. To watch a classy, beautiful woman like Jen stand there, trying to do her best imitation of Mohammad Ali was pretty funny. I saw her mouth the words, “I’ll see you after the game.” I nodded back to her, as both the period and our penalty minutes were up.

Back in the locker room, the coach was happy that we finally got some retaliation on the other team. Her joy was short lived, as the officials, and the league president came in to talk with her. After what looked like a spirited discussion, in the office, coach came back out and looked at me with a snarlk of disdain on her face.

“Toni, you need to go see the league doctor,” she told me.

“For what? I didn’t even get a scratch on me in that fight,” I asked in confusion.

“Just come with me, Miss,” the league president told me. So I did, having no real choice otherwise.

Once I was in the trainer’s room, I was told that the other coach had filed a protest, saying that I wasn’t really a woman. I just let out a sigh, and shook my head. The doctor preformed a series of tests on me, including an MRI of my lower body, numerous x-rays, and my personal favorite, “Can you put your legs in these stirrups for me?”

Once I was dressed again, she let the president back in, and they went over the images of the MRI, and x-rays. The doctor told him that I was a complete, and healthy woman, and that she saw no reason for me to not be able to play. He nodded, and I went back out the tunnel to sit with Patty, our back up goalie. The game was pretty much over by then, but I still wanted to be close, incase anything happened. When the final horn sounded, we had won, 6 to 0, and the “BOO-birds” were flying high as we left the ice. Once back in the locker room, the doctor showed back up and handed me a folder.

“Go a head and keep this with you.” she told me. “It’s a copy of every test we did today, and a signed affidavit from me, saying that you are with out a doubt a biological female. I’m sure the other coaches in the league are going to try the same thing, since there is a rumor out there that you used to be a guy.”

I didn’t say a word, I just nodded and shook her hand. I gave the folder to the coach, and she added it to her briefcase, as I went back to get dressed.

On the way out of the locker room, I saw Jen standing there, with a grin on her face, as she saw me. “Still don’t think you can hold your own, do you?” she said with a slight giggle in her voice.

“So how were your seats?” I asked her, quickly changing the subject.

“They were fine. Perfect in fact, to watch you go all UFC on the other team.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what an enforcer does.”

“You held your own, but why weren’t you out for the second or third periods?”

“The other coach protested.” I sighed

“What, about the fight?”

“No, he didn’t think I was a real woman.”

“So where were you?” she asked, a bit puzzled.

“The league doctor gave me a complete physical, complete with MRI, and x-rays.”

“Don’t they have to take you to the hospital for that?”

“No, most NHL arenas have the equipment to do those on site. It saves time that way.” I told her shaking my head.

“What’s wrong? You passed. right?”

“Yeah, Jen, I passed. But that’s part of my problem.”

“How’s that now?”

“For the first time since I started playing hockey, I got reminded that I’m a woman. When I was out on the ice, it felt like old times, but that all came crashing down.”

“Look, your hiding from yourself isn’t healthy. I know it’s hard sometimes, but you need to face this head on,” she told me, as she put her hand on my shoulder. “You are a strong woman Toni. Stronger than you think you are. You don’t necessarily have to like it, but you do need to accept that you are a woman now.”

“Thanks Jen, I really needed this,” I told her with a hug.

“It’s alright, now come on, let's go get something to eat.”

I knew my team wouldn’t be leaving to head back to Santa Fe, until the next day, so that would leave me free to spend some time with Jen. As we left the arena and headed to the parking lot, I caught sight of the truck from the article so I thought it would be as good a time as any to bring up my ideas to her.

“Did you read the story they did on you in Entertainment Weekly?” I asked her bluntly.

“The one where they call for a boycott of my work if I don’t change my cars?” she asked me back.

“Yeah, that’s the one. I have an idea if you’re game.”

“Alright, shoot.”

“Well, the easy one is convert your Viper over to E85. The one that’s a bit more in-depth, is to convert this beast over to Hydrogen fuel cells.”

“I don’t know of any shops that can do that around here.” she told me back.

“I can do it for you,” I told her confidently.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah Jen, why not? All I’d need to do would be re-map the fuel injection on the Viper, and then clean out your fuel lines, and you’re good to go.”

"Could the Viper burn any combination of gas or E85 like my Caravan back in Syracuse?"

"It can be set up that way. It's all in the engine computer configuration."

“Alright, that’s one down, but what about my tank?” she asked me patting the dash of the Hummer.

“Well, that one will take a bit longer to do. I’d have to swap out the engine, then fab up some new mounts for the fuel cell motor, change the plumbing of the fuel lines, and then swap out the computer.”

"What about refueling it? Will I have problems getting the hydrogen easily?"

"The LA area should be okay but I'm not certain about other areas. There's a lot of interest in the technology though. Maybe the better alternative is a hybrid that uses a diesel engine. Diesel fuel is common and we can re-use the normal fuel tank."

"Could you make it use bio-diesel too? Like vegetable oil?"

"Yup. In fact you use a bit of normal diesel fuel to get the engine started then switch over to the bio-diesel after the engine warms up."

"Good, I won't have any problems then if I take it on a longer trip and can't easily get the bio-diesel anywhere."

"Okay, a diesel hybrid that can use bio-diesel fuel is what you'll get."

“So could you do it before spring?”

“I can have the Viper done in a weekend. This beast is going to take a little more time, but I should be able to have it done by then, provided a company I read about that makes some conversion parts can get me what I need right away. I'm not certain is anyone has converted a Hummer before so it might be an all-custom job. So what’s going on in the spring?”

“I’ll be shooting at the Spa I told you about near Santa Fe and I don’t want to have to waste studio money flying there then renting a car.”

“You know, you should just get a motorcycle. They’re great on gas.” I told her with a giggle.

“Can’t, it’s against my contract with the studio. They consider that to be “Partaking in a Dangerous Act.” And they’d sue me if I ever hurt myself on one.”
“Fair enough. So when can you get me the Viper? The sooner I get started on that, the sooner I can get it done, and then start on this beast.”

“What’s your schedule look like?”

“Well, the team’s leaving tomorrow morning, and heading back on the bus. Then we have a week off, before we have Dallas at home. Why?”

“Wanna take the Viper home with you?” she asked me with a grin.

“I’d love to, but it’s probably not a good idea.”

“Why’s that?” she asked, looking confused a bit.

“Because I’d probably break out in a matching pair of silver bracelets attached with a lovely chrome chain.”

“Handcuffs? Why?”

“I’ve been known to have a bit of a lead foot,” I told her with a giggle.

“Well, just follow the bus, and you’ll be fine.”

“I make no guarantees.” I told her.

“Come on, Gertie has a stew on. I told her I’d be bringing you for dinner. After we eat, I’ll show you how to get back to the hotel.”

“Alright, I can probably have it back to you next weekend.”

“You’re sure that the Viper is going to be the easier one to do?”

“Piece of cake,” I told her as we pulled up to her place. And much like the house in NY, it too was out in the middle of nowhere.

“Actually I think Gertie mentioned something about baking a cake, too.” she told me with a grin, and I busted out laughing.

To be continued.

Jennifer Stevens appears courtesy of Bob Arnold, all rights reserved. Copyright 2002-2008 ©

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Comments

The Hockey Fight

So now that Toni has been OFFICIALLY declared by a doctor to be a real woman, can the fight in the hockey game be called a "Wham, Bam, Thank you Mamam" (giggle)episode for the other team? Toni and Tracy, her partner enforcer did an excellent job of protecting their other team members. Wonderful story, plus I am learning about hockey stuff I never knew or understood before. please keep it going. Janice Lynn

Groan!

Wham bamm thank you Mamam?

Ouch! What a pun.

I worry some half-drunk hocky player or fan will decide to prove Toni is not a woman by raping her and she ends up pregnant or at least terified and in shock.

Antoina has gone off into uncharted waters -- the dream had her back in racing, reality has her in hockey and staying with his/her intended bride. The questions remain though. What of Brit and Jessie? Has Antonia saved their lives by changing hers? How will dad fair? What of her relatives and of her lifemate? Will her son be born okay or will her being with Sarah bring harm to either of them?

What if this is the dream and the reality where her dad and Brit die and Jessie was injured is the real one and Toni is in a coma from the fall?

I'm am confusing myself now. So what else is new?

TWO stories at the same time, good luck!

John in Wauwatosa

John in Wauwatosa

*insert picture with evil grin here*

Remember the deal John... That's 7 guesses, so that means a $35 donation to Erin... LOL.

Seriously though. You'll have to wait until I post the next chapter to find out any more.

And I have to ask, have you been talking to Holly? She asked me the same question about the dream... You'll just have to wait and see.

Much love.
Toni

No, YTony

While I do some editing for John, and we do exchange emails on things, I swear we haven't discussed any of these questions or issues.
They are just the questions that are bound to come up, especially after the switcheroo you pulled on all of us in parts 15 & 16.

For everyone's information, I did not read ANY of Becoming Antonia until after part 21 or 22 was posted. I was still catching up when I first talked to Toni. The meanie didn't even let me in on the sudden change after I agreed to re-edit starting with part 1 to where Zomba had begun working. I had a list of questions and suggestions for Toni, that all went in the ash can when I hit the switch of plot line.

Holly

One of the most difficult things to give away is kindness.
It usually comes back to you.

Holly

I'm not mad.

That is to say I'm not upset. I am mad... LOL. SHHHHH. The men in the white coats will hear you..... LOL.

I've thought long and hard about having the past 10 chapters be the "real dream" but I just can't bring myself to do that. It was hard enough to do it once, and besides, I don't want Brit or dad dead. Nor do I want Jess crippled. They are friends of mine, and Brit and Jess were upset when they read what I'd done.

Dad hasn't, nor will he read this story... EVER! At least not while I'm still alive. I know how he'd react to it, and me. That is why I never let him see Toni. It sucks, I know, but it's either that, or have him try to harm me in my sleep. I sleep better knowing that he doesn't know. I don't even let him see Toni, when I go to a Halloween party, New Years Mascarade party, or a Marde Gras party. NOT GONNA HAPPEN! He's too old school. I've tried to breach the subject with him in the past, by having him watch some different documentaries on Cross Dressers, and I even got him to watch "Trans Nation" with me. But his comments on thoses shows have shown me that he does not, nor will he accept Toni, as part of his life.

Mom's cool about it. She even had me come to Christmas so her new husband's family could meet Toni. Granted, that ended all sorts of poorly, but she, and my step dad accept Toni, which is ME.

The only time I think dad had an idea about things was when I came home from Mom's that day and had makeup smeared all over my face. He gave me a funny look, but just told me to get washed up. We've never talked about it, and I know he'll be pissed if it ever does get talked about. So I'M NOT SAYING A WORD.

I'm glad there are people out there who do enjoy this story. I'm a bit shocked by it all, to tell the truth. When I first wrote it, and sent it to Sapphire, I only sent it to get her oppinion on it. The next thing I know, she's making me a "Featured Author". Talk about shock. Then I come here, and find out that there have been people waiting on pins and needles for the next chapter. I've never thought my writing was that good. I know for a fact that there are better writers out there.

I feel honored that Bob has allowed me to borrow Jen, for a few cameo's. He's one of the better ones I'm talking about. To have an author of his caliber give me the green light to use his most famous charicter OH MY GOD! I about crapped myself when I read that he said yes. Then it took a couple of days to sink in that he was really Bob, and that he wasn't messing with me. He meant it. I could borrow Jen, and since then he's actually helped come up with a couple of ideas for future chapters. How cool is that.

I really have to say thank you to all those of you who have read and told me you like this story. I know I write for my own enjoyment, but it still feels nice, to know that a piece of shlock that I've come up with, had touched some people. I still don't think I'm that good, but who am I to argue with the "great unwashed masses"???

Much love, to the readers, and those who've helped with this story.
Toni

an idea

To add friction with the League to the stirring pot, how about a rumor campaign that the officials willingly, knowingly, made the medical exam during the game, and specifically made it last the rest of the game, to try and deliberately aid the Queens.
That kind of exam could be done afterwards, and if the rules were violated, the team of the offender would forfeit the game.

Normally.
And normally, that is what is done.

Since that was not done in this case, WHY was it done differently?
And were the tests more invasive, or take longer, that what would be a reasonable minimum exam time so that the player could get back in the game.
That minimum time was apparently exceeded.
Look, if the game were still going on, Toni's duties to the team would have had her going straight to the bench after the exam. I do count the needed time to redress (re-taped feet pads and uniform elements, pads themselves, uniform itself, and skates) against the exam time. Even if it meant going in street clothes to simply support her teammates. She did not, but rather went with home with Jen, ergo, the game was over. Since she, again apparently, dressed out in street clothes, the time taken was more than the rest of the game.

Maybe another coach could be caught complaining (at max volume on TV to the head official) that he (or she) could not get an opposing player pulled off the ice for the rest of the game, "like the Queens did last week".
;-)