Golfing in Pink - 4

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Golfing in Pink –4


By Katherine Day


(Copyright 2014)


(To fill a vacancy on his sister’s golf team, a boy is persuaded to join the girls. It is a transforming experience. This is a four-part story.)

(Thanks to Eric for assisting in this story. Any errors or inconsistencies are the fault of the author)
4 – The Future

“Darling, I’m so proud of you and you look absolutely stunning,” Harriet Warner said, greeting her son and his sister as they entered the home on the night of the reception.

Sonny looked at his mother and did a quick pirouette, his arms moving daintily.

“She was easily the prettiest girl there, mom,” Tess said.

“She’s lying, mom,” Sonny protested.

“You were and you know it, Sonja,” his sister said, emphasizing the name Sonja.

“Sonny,” their mother said, suddenly bursting into tears.

“Mom, mom, what’s wrong?” Sonny said.

“Oh, Sonny, Sonny. Come hug your mother.”

He moved onto the couch, next to his mother and let her draw him onto her bosom. Harriet Warner was a tallish woman, slender and toned, much as Tess was. Sonny felt small in his mother’s arms, feeling weak and dependent and he began crying as well.

“Have I lost a son and gained a daughter?” Harriet said finally.

Sonny removed himself from his mother’s hold and sat upright next to her. “Mom, I love being a girl, really,” he said, his eyes still red from his brief cry.

“Look we’ve mussed your dress, dear,” his mother said. She stopped crying and looked at him.

“Isn’t this dress just adorable on me?”

“You’re such a girl, sis,” Tess chimed in.

“Now, go change, both of you,” their mother ordered. “As a celebration for your tournament win, I baked a nice cake and we can have a feast in a few minutes. OK?”

“Your red velvet cake, mom?” Tess said.

“Yes, honey. Your favorite.”

“Goody,” said Tess and Sonny together, bring a laugh from their mom for their girlish enthusiasm.

“See, we’re sisters, Tess,” Sonny said, turning a running into his room.

Ten minutes later, Tess and Sonny reappeared in the kitchen. Sonny wore a shift-like gown in light yellow with spaghetti straps over his slender shoulders, while his sister wore plain green cotton pajamas with the emblem of the Green Bay Packers.

“I have made a decision,” Harriet Warner said after the three had finished their cake. Tess had a second helping, while Sonny expressed worry about “getting fat” and rejected the offer, still reassuring mom the cake was as delicious as ever.

“And I think it’s the right decision, noting Sonny’s worry about his weight,” their mother began. “It’s the kind of a thing a girl would do, turning down extra cake.”

Sonny wondered what she was getting too. Was she thinking that he should try to become more masculine? Was she upset with his effeminate mannerisms, his love of female clothes, his lack of physical strength? Did she have some scheme in mind that would get rid of his girlish feelings?

“It’s obvious that Sonny may in fact be a girl, even though he’s got a boy’s anatomy,” Harriet Warner said.

“I feel that way, mom,” Sonny said.

“Therefore, I think you should start seeing a specialist to determine if we should start you on a plan to change you into a girl. I’ve made appointments for you with two doctors, first with our GP and then with a psychiatrist. I’ve already talked to Dr. Cianciola and she understands your situation. She’ll give you a physical and talk to you a bit and then, if she agrees with me, we’ll go ahead with the psychiatrist to see if you should continue.”

“Oh mother, I love you,” Sonny said, suddenly bursting into tears – tears of joy.

*****
In the weeks before the start of Sonny’s senior year of high school, the boy saw the two doctors, just as his mother had suggested. Part of the huge Bestcare Health System (the area’s dominant medical provider), Dr. Phyllis Cianciola was a handsome fortyish woman and had become the Warner family’s primary physician in the last two years. Sonny had seen the woman doctor only once before his critical appointment in mid-August. At the first meeting a year before, Dr. Cianciola, whose office was decorated with well-polished trophies along with pictures of her as an accomplished tennis player, proclaimed that Sonny was in good health but that he should get more exercise and build muscle tone. She even had recommended several exercise groups, but Sonny ignored her advice.

Sonny’s tense nerves caused him to shiver intermittently as he waited in the large clinic where Dr. Cianciola practiced. Eventually he was called to wait in a small examination room with two chairs, a small desk with a stool on rollers and an examining table. The room was painted white and with the stark light from fluorescent bulbs gave it a cold, forbidding feeling. Sonny felt chilled and tense as he waited in the small enclosure for what seemed hours for the doctor to arrive. It was likely only ten minutes before the doctor greeted him with a business-like handshake. After a cursory, sit-down command, Dr. Cianciola turned to her laptop that Sonny presumed showed the results of his recent laboratory tests and other medical information.

“Everything looks good and you’re healthy, Mr. Warner,” she said finally.

Sonny nodded. He was suddenly wary of what the doctor was about to do. His mother had assured him that Dr. Cianciola was fully aware of his desire to change genders and that she was sympathetic to his situation; yet, the doctor betrayed none of the warmth and understanding that he was expecting. He sat frozen in position, his hands folded on his lap, his knees together.

“What makes you think you’re a girl, Mr. Warner?” she said directly.

“I don’t know, it just feels right, I guess,” Sonny replied, quickly recognizing the emptiness of his answer.

Dr. Cianciola said nothing. Her eyes were aimed directly at him, finally forcing him to turn his head to avoid looking at her.

“Well, I’m always sad and depressed, except when I dress up and feel like a girl,” Sonny began. Soon, he gushed, spilling out his episodes of being dressed by his sister, his forays into her bedroom when she was gone and finally the joy of playing in the golf tournament as a young lady named Sonja.

“Is that all?” the doctor said when he finished.

“Doctor, please, you must understand. I can’t be a boy. How can I grow up to be a man? I feel pathetic as a boy. Please, understand me . . .”

Sonny burst into tears, crying profusely.

The doctor moved into the chair next to the boy and took the sobbing boy’s hands in hers. Dr. Cianciola’s hands were large and hard and her touch was gentle.

“There, there, my dear,” the doctor said. “I do understand, darling. I do.”

Though he was confused by the doctor’s sudden change of behavior, Sonny felt warm and comforted. He wondered if the doctor understood his situation.

The doctor stepped away and sat down at her small desk in the examination room and smiled. “Yes, my dear, I think you’re right.”

“You mean it, doctor?” Sonny said, almost ready to cry again.

“Yes, but what I think doesn’t matter. We’ll have to make sure about this.”

Dr. Cianciola agreed he should follow up with the psychiatrist to continue exploring whether a gender change was appropriate. His mother was called into the office to formally agree to the appointment, since Sonny was still a minor.

“Mrs. Warner, I think you have a lovely and very pretty child here,” the doctor said. “I assure you he – or if it’s safe to jump the gun – she is a very healthy young lady and from a physical standard perfectly equipped to handle the drug treatment and any surgeries she may require.”

Dr. Cianciola smiled and leaned over to pat Sonny’s hand.

“Thank you, Dr. Cianciola,” Sonny said. “You had me scared for a few minutes.”

She merely smiled, before ushering Sonny and his mother from her office.

*****
Dr. Amil Gupta was short, dark man with slender soft hands. He greeted Sonny in a most courtly, courteous manner and after a few simple questions, Sonny found it easy to explain his feelings; he related his life and background to the doctor in detail, being prompted only by a few short questions. As he talked, Dr. Gupta looked at Sonny, nodding occasionally and even showing a hint of a smile. Everything about the man was reassuring.

He dismissed Sonny after a half hour and told him to wait in the outer office while he brought his mother in to speak privately with her.

Harriet Warner left the office fifteen minutes later and greeted her son.

“Let’s go, dear,” she said, without explanation.

“What did he say, mother?”

“We come back next week for his answer, dear.”

“What do you think? Will he, mother? Will he?”

“I don’t know, Sonny. He was very noncommittal, but I’m assured he’s really very good and understanding.”

“Oh mother, it’s just gotta happen. Mother, it has to.”

A week later, Dr. Gupta said that Sonny should begin living as a girl as often as he could. He suggested that he live outwardly as a boy to complete his senior year in school and for any job he might have. Otherwise, the doctor said, Sonny should live as a girl whenever he can, even on outings as long as it wouldn’t compromise his school or work situations. After four months, Dr. Gupta was to meet with Sonny again to see if he should start on hormones. If all went well, the doctor would recommend that Sonny begin taking further steps to become female. Any gender reassignment surgery or other surgery would begin a year or so after that.

As recommended by the doctor, Sonja returned to high school as a boy, though his growing effeminacy was becoming more and more noticeable and subjected him to occasional bullying and harassment. He found new friends among several girls, most of whom were top-ranked students as he was. Sonny was able to switch from an elective course in computer science to a fashion design course, where he was the only boy among some twenty students. There he was quickly accepted, largely because of his basic openness and kindness to other students and he found the artistry that went into dress design to be particularly fascinating.

He even modeled his own creation and won the admiration of most of the class for his courage in dressing as a girl before the others. He looked ravishing in his dress – a wrap-around purple cocktail dress – and several of the girls afterward asked him to model their own dresses. Even though he was tempted, he wisely turned them down.

Sonny graduated in June as an honor student from high school, fully ready to begin his life as a girl. He returned to the Country Club job that summer as Sonja, working as a banquet waitress; it feared that his return the snack shop might raise some to question how his change from boy to girl might affect the children. In fall, he would attend the local university as “Miss Sonja Warner.”

*****
When Sonja entered the same local college, she ran into Belinda Mayfield who had been her friendly competitor in the golf tournament. Sonja was interested in political science and enrolled in a liberal arts course at the college, where she and Belinda ran into each other when both enrolled in a philosophy class. The opening day for the fall semester was unusually warm for September and many of the students – including Sonja – wore shorts with light shirts. As she entered the classroom, Sonja felt wary and nervous, uncertain whether she’d be able to fit in with the students at the university level. In the first class she had on that first day – a required freshman English course – she noticed that none of the students talked much. It was a whole new world, she realized, where strangers were meeting for the first time, each somewhat worried about the others’ reaction to them. Not at all like high school, Sonja realized, where it seemed all of the students seemed to know each other and where she (though still presenting herself as a boy) was regularly identified as either that “girly boy” or “sissy” by some or as a “courageous boy” by others due to his effeminate mannerisms. Either way, she was never invisible in high school. Here, she realized with growing confidence, she was merely another burgeoning young lady. She could be herself. What a marvelous feeling!

Upon entering the beginning philosophy class – the second class of that first day – Sonja spied a pretty African-American girl seated alone in the back of the room. At first, Sonja didn’t recognize Belinda, but a second glance told her it was the athletic golfing competitor from the tournament. She wondered whether to approach the girl: Would she remember her? Then, the other girl saw her, and her eyes lit up and she eagerly waved Sonja to an empty seat across the aisle.

“Sonja? Is that you?” Belinda said, rising from her seat and accepting her with a warm hug.

“Belinda. How lucky. We’re in the same class.”

“I know. I was afraid I wouldn’t know a soul here.”

“Me too,” Sonja smiled.

Sonja needed much reassuring, having had only hormone replacement therapy to emphasize her feminine features; sexual reassignment surgery, breast implants and facial surgery would have to come later when she could afford it.

Her friend, too, was unsure of herself, in spite of being a truly beautiful, nicely proportioned African-American woman. Belinda was truly smart, bordering upon being an intellectual. She was on a full scholarship at the university as a freshman planning to take pre-law courses. Having grown up with a single mother who was often on a drug binge, Belinda had been regularly cared for by her grandmother, except for her difficult middle school years when she was in foster care. It was then she discovered the nearby branch library, which served as her refuge from the cruelties of her life and introduced her to the world of books.

By Belinda’s senior year in high school, her mother had been able to get herself off drugs and the girl was able to move back with her mother. It had made a great difference to Belinda who realized that perhaps she could make a good life for herself. Though she was two years older than Sonja, she had taken a job to earn sufficient funds to help pay the expenses of her mother’s household. Now, as she was entering college, Belinda found herself in a different world, a world that was almost totally white. It was a troubling trip for her and she found Sonja’s warmth and sincerity to be a welcome place of comfort.

Their friendship blossomed after that. They studied together when they could, sometimes in the university library, sometimes in the crowded student union and sometimes at Sonja’s home. Belinda also became close to Tess and Harriet Warner, almost becoming a second sibling. Belinda and Sonja were affectionate with each other and often hugged and kissed. Neither one wanted a sexual encounter with the other; their embraces were chaste, but warm and comforting.

“I wish I could have you study at my place, but it’s just too chaotic, besides mom’s boyfriend doesn’t like that I have so many white friends,” she complained several months into the friendship. The two shared a tiny table at a campus coffee shop, Belinda sipping on her skinny vanilla latte and Sonja on a cup of herbal tea. They had split a scone, the crumbs littering the table.

“I like your mom, Belinda,” Sonja said.

“She’s been great once she got clean. But she always works hard. I just wish she’d dump that boyfriend,” Belinda said.

“He’s scary,” Sonja agreed. “When we met, he eyed me up and down like I was a piece of meat.”

“Yeah, he’s a sexist pig. He told me I should bring you over to the house again, and I’m sure he figured you’d want to see what he calls his big, black friend. One day when mom was gone, he forced me to look at it, and I was scared he’d rape me. I screamed and ran into my room and locked the door. He pounded on the door and I said I’d tell my mother and he threatened me that he’d cut me up so badly that nobody’d ever want to look at me anymore. I keep my bedroom locked now when he’s around.”

“Why does your mom tolerate that?” Sonja asked.

“I don’t know but he does have a steady job and helps pay the rent.”

“Makes me wonder why I wanted to be a woman so badly.”

Belinda nodded: “It does, doesn’t it? But then, darling, as far as I can tell you always were female. It just took time to figure that out.”

“I’ve never been happier,” Sonja agreed.

The two then discussed the homework assignment their philosophy professor had given them; both were intense students, religiously following the reading assignments. It was obvious the two relished the learning process, something that united them closely.

“We’ve become best friends, haven’t we, Sonja?” Belinda asked when they took a break from their studies.

“Why would you even ask, Bebe?” Sonja said, smiling. “Of course, we are.”

Belinda nodded: “You’re the only person I’d let call me Bebe. God, how I hated that when grandpa used to call me that? But, with you, it’s sweet.”

“I was so happy we met on the first day at the university,” Sonja began. “I liked you immediately from the first time we met. It was cool the way that you and your teammates tolerated me in the golf tournament that day; I was scared stiff at what I was doing. It seemed like I was living such a lie.”

“Not really, since we were all told about it, which, of course, you knew,” Belinda said. “The tournament leaders urged all of the other girls to go along with you playing in the meet. Apparently, Brick Walters, your club’s president, was insistent, otherwise the Riverview Club would have no team, and he had organized this whole tourney. He can be quite a bully, you know.”

Sonja grinned. She knew full well how the buffoon could push to get his way.

“I’m glad he was that way, since I think I’d still be a boy if I hadn’t played in that golf tournament. For the first time in my life, I felt at home with people. You all accepted me.”

“You were easy to accept, dear,” Belinda said. “Everybody loved you. You’re so sweet and caring and you were such a friendly competitor, praising our good shots and commiserating with our duffs.”

“I’m not special Belinda.”

Her friend looked at her and smiled, “To me you are extra-special.”

Sonja sensed the warm affection within Belinda, and genuine feeling of love. It was not a sensual love based upon bodily desires but rather of genuine expression of appreciation between two caring friends.

“I don’t feel special, but how can I ever thank all of you for treating me as if I was one of the group – a girl just like everyone else. I never could find any boys who accepted me. I was always shunned as if I was the plague. But now, as a girl . . .”

“Oh, Sonja, my sweet, sweet darling,” Belinda interrupted, reaching across the table and gently taking both of Sonja’s hands in hers.

Conclusion

Three years later, Sonja Warner and Belinda Mayfield enjoyed a milkshake together, having finished eighteen holes of golf on a hot Sunday at the busy public course, Whispering Pines. Both girls had been busy with school and their part-time jobs and hadn’t been together for several months; they had shared a few brief phone conversations, and hadn’t spent any real time together since the last Christmas vacation period, when they spent a girls’ weekend together in Chicago going to museums and a few jazz venues.

They finally joined up on a warm July Sunday for their golf game. Because of the demand to play, courses often required sending groups out as foursomes, and thus strangers would play together. They were teamed up with two older men, who seemed to enjoy watching the two young ladies swing.

“Once those guys quit ogling, they were kind of nice,” Belinda observed.

“Yeah, that was strange. I felt they were trying to hit on us, but after the third hole, they stopped with their innuendoes. I wonder why? Are they racists?” Sonja asked.

“No, but remember after you sunk that long putt on the second green, I gave you a congratulatory kiss and I played it up a bit, didn’t I?”

“Yes, you did,” Sonja giggled. “I guess they thought . . .”

“Yup, they did, I’m sure.”

“Particularly the way you ran you hand up and down my back then. That was hot.”

“It worked, didn’t it?”

“A fine pair of lesbians, we aren’t, are we?” Sonja said, and they both began giggling.

When the giggles stopped, Sonja asked Belinda about the boy she had been dating.

“Davon and I broke up,” she said.

“Oh, darling, that’s too bad. He was certainly good-looking.”

“Yes, he was really a handsome guy. Besides, he was tall,” Belinda said.

“What happened?”

“Nothing much really,” Belinda said. “He was so full of himself and I could see he wanted a woman to bow to him.”

“And that’s not you,” Sonja said, smiling.

“Of course not. So, good riddance. And there are no men in my life now. Tall girls like me have trouble getting dates, since most men are too short,”

“You only deserve the best, Belinda,” Sonja said, reaching over to put her hand on the girl’s muscular forearm.

They both sipped their milkshakes for a moment without saying anything, until Belinda asked: “By the way, you hinted the last time we talked that you had a boyfriend. Are you still dating him now?”

“Yes, we’ve been out a couple of times,” Sonja said, clearly minimizing her relationship.

“Sounds like a few more than a couple from the way you’re blushing, Sonja. And who is he?”

Sonja looked down at her half-finished shake, taking a moment to consider the question. “You remember Matthew who caddied for me in our tournament three years ago?”

“You mean the tall, skinny guy with the granny glasses? The brainy one?”

“Yes, that tall, skinny guy, and he’s more than brainy, too! You know he was the captain of his golf team in college and even considered going pro, but instead he’s a public defender now. He recently graduated from law school, but he’s not interested in being a fancy pants lawyer. He likes public interest law.”

“Really, that guy? What’s his full name?” Belinda asked, showing incredulity.

“Matthew. Matthew Kortus,” Sonja answered, her face beaming as her mind began to picture the tall, wispy haired young man.

“Does he know yet? About your boyhood?” Belinda asked.

“Of course he knows, Belinda. I never even had to tell him, since he was told by Juan on the day he caddied for me at the tournament.”

“He was? Wow. I didn’t know that.”

“Matthew told me that he and Juan had played lots of golf together and had become friends. Juan chose Matthew as my caddy since he knew Matthew to be open-minded about things like sexuality. He wanted Matthew to know in advance to be sure that he would be comfortable caddying for me. And he was. I was so lucky!”

“And he called you a few months ago after you hadn’t heard from him since the tournament three years ago?”

“Right! He was to participate in a charity golf tournament for the ACLU and needed a female partner. He knew I worked at the country club and that I still played a pretty good game of golf – for a girl. So he called me.”

“Just like that?”

“Well, he said he was desperate for woman partner who could golf and hoped I was interested in joining him. I accepted and now we’ve had a few dates.”

“And you’ve had sex together?” Belinda asked.

Sonja blushed, nodding in the affirmative. “He was my first man after the operation. And my only man!”

Belinda smiled.

“And it was great. I had five orgasms that night. Oh, Belinda I was on fire, so full of desire. I wanted him so much and, Belinda, he had so much to give, but I guess I wore him out.”

“Oh, darling, that’s so sweet,” Belinda replied. She got up and excused herself, saying she needed to use the bathroom.

In her friend’s absence, Sonja thought back to that night – just a week earlier – as she nestled in Matthew’s arms in their after-love, the scent of sex mixed with her perfume in the bedroom air. She felt so warm and protected. If this was love, she thought, could life ever be as sweet as she felt just then?

She remembered asking Matthew as the two lay together whether he could love such a “freak” as herself, a woman who could never give him children. “Don’t ask that now, darling and ruin the sweetness of this evening,” she remembered the young man’s reply.

She stiffened at his answer. Did this mean he was interested in her only for the sex, she wondered? Obviously he sensed her reaction, since he quickly recovered himself, saying, “Oh Sonja, my sweet, I’ll love you forever, really, I will.”

“Do you mean it?”

“Yes, even though it’s too early to think about marriage, I’ve been thinking about it,” he said.

Until then, Sonja had never imagined she would ever be married; it wasn’t reality for women like herself, she felt. Most men would want a total woman, she felt.

“We’ve not known each other for too long, Matthew, but I feel so close to you. I dream of being married, but, darling, I could never give you children.”

Matthew moved closer to you and the two nestled tightly together. He kissed her gently and then said: “You’re all woman to me, Sonja, and I can see us making a life together. We can adopt, you know.”

“Oh Matthew, I love you.”
Her musings were interrupted by the return of Belinda to the table. “What has you smiling so broadly?”

“Oh, nothing,” Sonja lied.

“It’s about Matthew, I’m sure.”

Sonja giggled and began blushing. Soon her smiles turned to tears and Sonja began sobbing softly. They were tears of joy. She so loved being a girl.

THE END

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Comments

Enjoyed It

Thanks for sharing.

Nice ending, but rather

Nice ending, but rather sudden, as we don't get to find out if Belinda gets herself a man to love as well. It would be fun to have a short epilogue where they both get married and have families who all become really, really good friends for life. Plue we need to find out what happened with Sonja's Sister and Mother over the years. Hugs, Janice Lynn

things worked out in the end

it looks like she is really happy. happier than she did as a he.

Wolf_0.jpg

Having compleated the course ...

I would say one good round deserves another ... round of applause that is. Bravo Bravo.

Very sweet

Bobbie Sue's picture

It is just the kind of story that I love to read.

Great story

That’s a really great ending.

hugs :)
Michelle SidheElf Amaianna