Time is a fluid.
As so many other authors in the past have mentioned with time travel stories, time just doesn't like to be pinned down, and the more you try to do to keep it the same, the more that it changes. I think that this is even more evident in reverse. The more that you change, the greater the chaqnges become given just a little time.
Think of it as ripples in a pond.
In our own lives, we see it with the introduction of things like EverQuest or Cell Phones. Even greater has been the impact of so-called Smart Phones. Our lives now are so much different that they used to be even ten years ago, let alone twenty. I remember, from my personal Geek heritage, when DOS was considered the king of all operating systems. I even uninstalled Windows 3.11 because of the problems it caused with the speed of my machine.
I loved all of my controllable Batch Files, and I even knew how to make interactive menus with them.
Yes, this is geekier than most of you can probably stand.
Windows 95 changed the market. Sure, I hear some of you Apple diehards say that MAc OS was first and did it better, but I have to disagree. Even with all of the problems that it had, Windows 95 brought the GUI interface to the masses, and in so doing, changed the world forever.
I personally believe that without Windows 95, the internet would never have come into it's own.
What does this have to do with the story you ask?
Everything and nothing at the same time.
There was a time when CPU speeds were doubling every six months. That is no longer happening. We've reached a plateau, and nothing that the engineers do is fixing that. Sure, they still get faster, but at a glacial pace compared to what used to be happening.
We've reached the limit of what technology can do for us.
Unless we can manipulate things, accurately, on a smaller scale.
Enter a world where someone, seven years ago, figured out how to actually make nanotechnology feasable. In seven years, a lot has changed, and a lot has remained the same. I'll not go into all of the changes, as that is part of what a good story is all about.
I am simply here writing a few of my thoughts as to the why of what I'm doing.
No, there are certain falacies that I willingly court in the writing of this story. That is the author's perogative. I recognize tham and accept them. That doesn't mean that the story is falacious. All it means is that I accept bending the rules a little bit in order to explain certain parts of the story.
This is the reason it's called 'willing suspension of disbelief'.
Thank you, everyone, who reads this, as it really warms me when my works are read. I hope you enjoy the ride,
Liadan
“So…you going to the wedding?”
Generally speaking, my brother is a good guy. I have to speak in generalities, because when you get into the specifics it breaks down a little. Like right now. He’s sitting here, playing Monolith, and pestering me about going to another family wedding.
It’s not that I have anything against family weddings, don’t get me wrong. It’s just that they make me depressed: The girls standing around in their beautiful dresses, smiling and sharing their secrets; the beautiful bride in hear beautiful dress; and any of a number of other little things that just make me ache inside.
I want to be a girl. I want it so badly that it hurts in a physical pain. I feel my heart breaking a little bit as I think about what this new wedding will mean.
The last of my first cousins is getting married, so it will be the last wedding. My parents were the first to marry on my dad’s side of the family. They were second on my mom’s. And mom and dad came from good sized families.
I have fourteen married first cousins. Fourteen moments in which I have been stuck there in a suit and tie, wanting to be stuck there in a beautiful dress.
Yes, I meant stuck. You see, we have this tradition in our family that the wedding party is made up of family. Even the best man and the maid of honor. I like the tradition, but you still have to stand around for a couple of hours in a receiving line, waiting for people to arrive so that the real party can begin.
Not too bad. I get to see all the pretty dresses as they pass by, and no one expects anything different from me other than standing there with a wooden expression and a fake smile plastered on my face.
So, while it is sort of expected that I show up to the reception, I’ve bowed out.
Somewhere down the line I decided that fourteen wedding parties were enough and I didn’t need a number fifteen.
I am the second oldest of all of my cousins. That means that by the time any of them were ready to tie the knot, I was right there. I was best man to three of them, and groomsman to the rest. One of the guys I was best man to was actually my cousin’s fiancé at the time.
That was likely the most difficult bachelor party of them all.
“Cray? You there, man?”
I’d gotten lost in my own thoughts as I considered his question.
“I’m just not up to it, Jeff.”
“It’s the last one…well at least till you get married.” He says with a smirk. The smirk is because he thinks I’m gay.
He’s half right. I am attracted to men. Thing is, so is any other hetero girl. “Jeff, I’m not getting married.”
So many times in the past I’ve explained this to him, and my parents, and grandparents…and a lot of other members of my family.
“Why not just ask Angela? You two have been dating forever.”
“Maybe I will.” I say sarcastically.
“No need to be rude.” He responds.
I leave his room, and walk out to my car. I still don’t know what possesses me to spend time with him. He is my brother, but he’s also one of the most bigoted people I know. Harsh, I know, but necessary to say.
I’m still upset with him, as I take a seat in my electric blue Neon. The only reason I purchased it is because it was the exact same shade as this nail polish I drooled over as a teen. The car comes to life in a little purr. I think that’s part of the reason people think of it as a car “for girls.” It is unassuming. It has a little bit of power under the hood though, and I’ve shocked some people with the speed that I can get it off the line.
He told my parents that I’m gay. That’s most of the reason I told them the truth. I tried to explain to them what it means to be transgender. My mom kinda got it, but my dad doesn’t get it at all. He thinks that it’s a phase, or me lying to myself.
I tried to explain that I identified with characters like Jamie Summers and Wonder Woman and he blew it off saying that they were “Very Masculine” in their behavior. Even my mom glared at him over that one.
My dad is a product of his upbringing, and for a genius he can be a little dense. No, he really is a genius, technically speaking. He has a 135 IQ. Mom is a bit below that at 130.
My brothers fall generally in the same range. My sister has a 148.
Not sure why I mention her. I mean, she is the second smartest in the family. I top out at a lofty, nosebleed waiting to happen of 169.
No, my grandmother, dad’s mother, is the second most bigoted person I know. She successfully indoctrinated my dad to such a degree that he doesn’t even question some of the stupid things that come out of his mouth. Like the fact that it is impossible for there to be a beautiful female scientist, because beautiful women don’t need to apply themselves mentally.
Sorry, that’s the family I live with.
I drive home as I continue to ponder the inequities of life. I wave to Angela as I pass her heading for my apartment. Living next to her is nice. I can go over and talk to her whenever I like. Makes life easier living as me.
Or I should say the only me that I’m allowed to be.
I have no plans of transitioning as it would hurt my mom too much. And my sister. I really don’t think I could disappoint either of them like that. I really respect their opinions.
Tonight, I indulge myself a bit and take a bath. I take baths on a regular basis so I can just soak and forget things for a while. The water soothes me. Not as much as swimming does, but at least a little. Of course, that act shows me my other shame.
No, not my maleness. My weight. I am so far overweight that it pains me to even see myself in the mirror anymore. At six-five I should be around two-hundred, or I should say I would prefer to be that weight. I’m almost three-twenty.
I would consider making it a bubble bath, but I have to at least pretend to be a guy.
It hurts to pretend.
For some reason, I'm more restless than normal, so I quickly get out of the tub and head to my living room. I sit there naked and dripping on my plush carpeting and my supple leather couch.
I should really dry off before sitting down, but I don’t. It’s because of times like this that I have a tab at an upholstery shop. I get this couch re-upholstered a couple of times a year. I have to have something to spend my money on.
Even with these little splurges, my bank account is a lot larger than I’d prefer it to be. I want to spend money, but I feel guilty spending it on myself. I tried the whole dating thing, but it never went anywhere.
So, I live in my modest apartment, in a modest part of town, and live my modest life, while my money sits and compounds.
I turn on the television and surf for a bit before I hit a commercial for a new ‘nano-potion.’ I wonder once again if the invention of nano-tech in 2005 was really worth it. The world is such a different place than it was back then, but isn’t that always the case?
One moment you’re convinced that the iPod is the most advanced piece of technology in the world, and the next you are poping an iEye contact in so that you can watch in the comfort of your own mind…or so the advertising goes. I have enough problems putting in prescription contacts.
Yes, I wear glasses. One thing I will admit, nano-constructed invisible frames are the best thing to ever be invented. I even forget I am wearing glasses sometimes, to be honest.
Maybe that’s what I should spend my money on: corrective surgery. I consider that for a few moments letting the inane advertising wash over me. All of these potions are the same. They’re all supposed to make you beautiful, successful, and/or get you laid more. No one has ever really explained how a potion laced with bio-mechanicals is supposed to do that for you.
“Hey, Cray. You in?”
“Angela? Wait a moment.”
“Nothing I haven’t seen, and besides, you’re not my type and you know it.”
It’s meant in fun, but it still hurts.
“Just because I’m fat…”
“It’s because you’re a woman, and you know it.”
“Not that I look much like one.”
“On one of those kicks are we? So, Cray, when can we meet for the after party so that you can tell me all about the clothing at this wedding?”
“Not going.”
“What are you talking about? You always go…”
“Not this time. Frank wanted a non-family member as his best man. He’s only marrying in after all. That means that unless we want an uneven number of participants, I got the option to sit out. My brother Jeff is trying to convince me to take his place. He hates weddings almost as much as I do, although for different reasons.”
“Yeah, can’t miss out on raid night.”
We both laugh. It’s an old joke with us. The advent of immersive games sort of spelled the end of the ‘traditional’ massively multiplayer games, but it spawned games in a similar vein. More specifically it spawned one game. No one really competes with Monolith.
The joke was that Monolith had none of the things that populated the ‘old school’ online games. No raiding or such…
I smile for a bit and think of the old days when I could play a female character in those games and let myself be…me for a couple of hours a day.
Monolith doesn't allow you to present as a different gender.
“Hey, don’t worry about it. You and I can have another movie night?” Angela makes it a question, even if it didn’t seem like it should be.
“I guess…”
“Wow, you’re really down on yourself this evening.”
“Angela, I’m fat. And if that wasn’t bad enough, I’m masculine. Not just male, but masculine. It’s part of the reason I started binging in the first place. I ate to feel better, which made me guilty, so I ate to feel better…”
“Look, hon, we’ve all been there. Every girl…”
“But that’s just it, I’m not a girl, and I’m never going to be one!”
“Liadan, sit your ass back down on that couch and stop yelling.”
I shut up and sit down. It is the shock of hearing her use my name. Not the name my parents gave me, but the one she gave me. It’s Celtic, or something, and means Lady, I think.
It reminds me of who I wanted to be every time she used it. She saves it for special occasions, and chewing me out for self-pity is one of them.
“Liadan, you know you are a woman, in your heart. No matter what you look like, you are a woman.”
“But I don’t look like one, and no man would ever…”
She looks at me with an arched eyebrow.
I blushed. “I meant that no heterosexual man would ever want me.”
“Is that really a problem?”
“You know my parents…”
“I do, and one of these days you’re just going to have to do something and expect them to follow along. Make your own choices, Li.”
“Just cause my name is pronounced Leedan, doesn’t mean you get to shorten it into a boy’s name.” I say and stick my tongue out at her.
I begin to really relax as Angela and I talk for a little longer. I grab the single piece of female clothing I own, a flower printed kimono, and come back out to the living room again. She brushes my hair for an hour or so, and we talk. I’m still not going to the wedding, even if it is a Social event. It’s just not the same in a tux, even if it is tailored perfectly. Tuxes are designed to be looked at, not moved in.
Not like a dress. Sure, many dresses are designed like tuxes, form over function, but even so, you still have some freedom of limb at least.
“I’ve never known anyone who loves getting their hair brushed as much as you do,” Angela says as she finishes plaiting my tresses. I just smile in contentment. My hair is almost to my butt, when I leave it loose. The only thing that saddens me about it is the grey.
“I’m too old, Angela. If I transition now, what will be the point. I’m set in my ways.”
“Thirty-seven isn’t old.” She chides, “And it’s not like you’ll have children.”
I begin to cry. It comes out of nowhere, this feeling of hopelessness. Angela just sits behind me and holds me. She’s a good friend. I feel so feminine sitting there in the kimono she bought me, with my hair in a braid down my back.
She speaks softly to me, but I don’t understand her words, and before I know it I’m asleep.
I wake up to the sound of my phone. I turned off voicemail a couple of years ago because I hate returning phone calls. It rings for about five minutes before I finally find it and answer.
“Hello?”
“Cray?” It’s my mom’s voice.
“What time is it?”
“Four am. Look, sorry to be calling you so early, but Jenny’s sick.”
“And…”
“And I know I’m going to regret saying this, but could you be a girl for the wedding?”
This has to be a dream. I try to temper the feeling of my heart soaring with the knowledge that it will hurt all the more when I wake up.
“How am I going to do that?”
“Your dad is going down to the store to pick up a Femin-U potion.”
“A what?”
“We saw it last night on TV. Apparently it transforms you into a girl for about a day. Then you turn back. We figure we’ll get one for the fittings today, and then you take another for the wedding next week.”
“How ‘bout I decide this when I actually wake up?” I ask.
“There’s no time. Kate is picking you up in about two minutes.”
My doorbell rings.
“That’ll be her. Love you, sweetie. You’ll do fine.”
I’m so dazed that I go to the door in my kimono with my hair still braided.
“Hey, sis,” Kate says.
“Sis?”
“Well, at least for today, and it looks like you’ve already gotten started.”
“No, that was me last night,” Angela says from my couch.
“You two have a sleep over last night?”
“Sort of…your sister was a bit suicidal again.”
“I was not,” I say, but my blush gives me away.
“Thank you for taking care of her, Angela. You ready, Liadan?”
My sister is the only person in my family who knows my name. She knows me, really, since Angela was always her best friend. She is my only real friend. Well, the only friend Liadan has. The two girls just smile at me, and then Angela makes a move to leave, “Well, I’ll see you later then, Liadan, Kate.”
“Hell no,” I say, “if I’m doing this, then you’re coming with me, Angela. I’m sure we can get you an invite to the wedding.”
“An excellent idea if I do say so myself,” Kate replies.
“But I don’t have a thing to wear.”
“Good thing we’re going to a dress shop, then, isn’t it?” I ask with a smirk.
“Dad said he’d meet us at the house where you can drink the potion and change clothing.”
“Change?”
Angela smirks at me, “You dad doesn’t want you showing up at a dress shop in drag.”
“But…”
“She means dressed as a guy, Liadan,” Angela supplies.
“Oh,” I say with a smile. Say what you will about my dad, at least he’s consistent.
We pile into my car and I turn on the radio to a girl-rock station. The three of us are soon signing along, even if my baritone seems a little out of place with the grrl-power lyrics.
I’ve always wanted to be able to go out with my sister and Angela as just ‘one of the girls,’ and for the moment it looks like I get my wish. We’ll see what tomorrow holds.
We get to my parent’s home about five am, and I'm rushed inside by my father. When he’s like this I have trouble thinking of him as dad.
“Look, Cray, I figure that this is the best way to cure you of this little obsession of yours.”
“Obsession?”
“With being a girl. You’ll go to the reception, and at the end of it, you’ll realize what it really means to be a woman. It’s not all dress-up and pretty clothes. Women just think differently that we do.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Here.” He pushes one of the standard bulbs of potion at me. It’s a translucent royal blue color. There’s no label on the bottle.
“You sure this is the right one?”
“I took off the label in the store. I didn’t want anyone to see me carrying a bottle of this stuff home.” He was blushing furiously.
“I’ll have Kate get it for me next week then.”
I quaff it down, and giggle a bit. It tickles on the way down. That’s likely the little nannites slipping out through the lining of my throat. Most of them anyway.
Nothing happens, so I go to look through what my mom has gathered for me.
“What do you think, sweetie. I’m sorry it’s pink, but we have limited choices…”
There’s a pink hoodie and a pair of pink sweat pants with a white stripe down each leg. The sweats are too short, and the top is a little tight, but they mostly fit. Mom is blushing when I change. I have no qualms stripping off my boy shorts and slipping into a pair of white panties. They’re grannies, but I don’t really care right now.
“Well, I hope…” I feel strange, and talking becomes a chore. The room spins, so Angela and Kate help me onto the bed. I lie there feeling everything spin for what feels like hours, and then I start to itch. Where I'm itching makes me smile.
It’s all I can do not to scratch my chest in a most unladylike manner. Everything begins to shift under the clothing they provided. The discomfort grows a bit as I wait. It's almost unbearable in the moments before it fades away completely.
I get up and look at myself in the mirror. No, it’s not perfect. I’m still me…but a more feminine looking me. The little stubble I’d grown since last night is gone. The hairs on my arms and legs had fallen out as well and come back in very fine. The hair on my head is another matter. It had only grown about four inches, but it was blonde. I hadn’t been blond since I was in grade school. I smile at that.
“Mom…” I begin, and notice my voice is higher. Not a lot, but enough. It now sounds…furry. That’s all I can really describe it as. It sort of sounds sexy.
“Mom, I think I’ll need to shave before we go out.”
She looks at my face and frowns.
“I don’t see…”
I pull up the leg of my sweats, and she blushes.
“Oh, I completely forgot about that, Cray.”
“Please call me Liadan, Mom. At least for the two days I get to look like this.”
“Use my bathroom while I distract your father. And I should have a bra that will fit you well enough until we can get you one of your own. You’re sort of poking out.”
I look down and blush. My nipples are clearly visible through the fleece fabric of the hoodie.
“I don’t think any of us thought it would work so well,” Mom says.
“I knew it would,” Kate replies.
Angela just laughs as she leads me off to the bathroom.
“What are you..?” I begin to ask.
“Checking out the new bod,” she says.
“But…”
“We’re both girls now. And I’ve seen you naked.”
I strip down and am disappointed to find I still have a penis. There had to be a catch somewhere, I think. Angela is looking at the thing critically.
“I think it’s a little smaller,” she says.
“What?” I say and look into the mirror wall next to the tub. I’ve looked at myself often enough to know what I look like down there. I have often wanted for it to just shrink away and disappear. It's definitely smaller, and a small rush floods me. I smile at Angela and hug her.
“Watch where you throw those things,” she says rubbing her nose.
I giggle and blush at the same time. Apparently I gave her a face full of boob without even thinking about it.
It’s embarrassing, even if we do, mostly, look like girls. Well, Angela looks completely like a girl. I just mostly look like a girl now. I can’t help smiling as I think about it. Angela gives me pointers on how best to shave my legs. I get a couple of nicks and cuts, but when I’m done I have smooth legs.
Angela helps me moisturize, and when I’m done my legs are so smooth. I’m about to get dressed when my mom comes in.
“Good, you didn’t wash your hair.”
“Mom!” I say, trying to cover up.
“I changed your diaper, girl. You have nothing I haven’t seen before.”
I blush and she and Angela just laugh.
“I see you didn’t wash your hair. Good. Angela, you want to use this, or do you want me to do it?”
“What’s going on?” I ask.
Angela begins to smile, and I’m even more mystified. Mom has a plastic tube in her hands.
“I’ll do it,” Angela says.
Mom hands Angela a pair of nano-control gloves which she puts on. “Sit, Liadan.”
I do, still mystified. She spreads the goop from the vial on my hair and I begin to realize what exactly is going on. With these limited-use nano-machines you can get a professional dye job at home.
We leave them in for almost thirty minutes and then Angela carefully brushes them back into the vial. As soon as my hair is free, I step into the shower and use the ‘Clean to make any remaining nano-machines inert.
When I’m done, I finally do what I’ve been avoiding since they first put in the dye. I look at myself in the mirror again.
I’m still overweight, but my weight has definitely shifted into more feminine areas. My hair is now blonde and fits well with my naturally light blue eyes. “My butt is huge,” I say in wonder.
My mom and Angela laugh. After smiling happily again at them, I get dressed again. The Bra is a little uncomfortable. Everything else fits a little differently. I realize for the first time how much energy must have been burned to make the change. The hoodie isn’t as tight. I’d think that it would have been tighter, as more was moved up top, but it’s almost, but not quite, loose. Definitely looser. That makes my smile electric. I’ve lost weight.
I’ve been afraid to try any of the weight-loss options on the market because I’m afraid it will make my bad eating habits worse.
Even so, I love that I’ve lost some weight, and I step onto the scale to verify. My smile splits my face. I’ve lost twenty pounds in two hours. Sure, I’m still three-hundred pounds, but it’s less than I weighed before.
We head out of the room and pile into the car. Kate and my mom will have final fittings today, as will my female cousins. I’ll be getting a first fitting. If it weren’t for the money that my family had put into Sandy’s Boutique over the years, I doubt that Sandy would be willing to do this for us.
First we head to the mall. The styles and sizes are almost confusing. We measure me, and then begin to try out any of the bras that fit. 48DD. Yes, I’m huge. But the bra is beautiful, and I begin to feel beautiful when I put it on.
We’re about to leave when Angela pulls me off to another part of the store. There are panties here. She hands me a pair in pink with a little lace that match the bra. Now I really do feel beautiful. The panties cup my ample bottom.
We head back out to the car after paying, and I wear my new underwear out. The sun seems to be shining a bit brighter now, or maybe it is just that I am really looking around at my world.
While we drive, Kate and Angela play with my hair and I just luxuriate in it. They’re doing some type of plaited pile on top of my head and I wonder what it will look like when it’s done. I don’t have an opportunity to check as they’re still finishing up as we get out of the car and head into the shop.
“Ladies, welcome, welcome I have your dresses over here. And who is this amazon?”
“Sandy, you goof. It’s me,” I say to the man. I haven’t been into Sandy’s for a few years. It wasn’t even his when I went in last time. He was still working for someone else. Last time I was in here was to help Kate get fitted for her own wedding dress. She has a ten-year-old son now.
“Cray..?”
“Liadan if you please,” Angela says.
“Well, might I say that everything fits now,” Sandy says with a smile. “When you came in the first time I was wondering a bit why you weren’t getting fitted for a dress. It might have taken seventeen years, but here you are.”
I blush furiously, and mom does as well. Apparently I don’t keep it as secret as I’d hoped.
“So, I assume that we’ve got to make one of those peach monstrosities for you?” he asks.
“Peach..?”
“I just have to show you,” he says. He hands a couple of dress bags to my mother and sister, and they go into the back to get changed.
“And who is this young lady?” he asks turning to Angela. She blushes herself at the compliment as I’m sure that she doesn’t think that thirty-three is young.
“This is Angela, my neighbor.”
“Oh, are you two…” Sandy begins and both of us shake our heads.
“No, I’m into guys,” Angela blurts out.
Sandy gets a thoughtful look on his face, and then smiles at Angela. Angela shyly smiles back.
“Sandy, just ask her out.”
The both gawp at me. “Angela is currently single. Her boyfriend dumped her a couple of months ago,” I turn and address Angela, “Sandy isn’t gay, even though most girls assume so.”
They both laugh a bit at my statement, but any further banter is halted by the return of Kate and our mom.
Sandy’s right. These dresses are…silly. They have yards of cloth, and are gauzy and airy. They’re made for a much smaller woman than either my mom or sister. Almost as if they were designed for pixies or something. I’m so not looking forward to seeing myself in one of them.
Sandy checks the fit and then turns to me. He directs me to strip down to my underwear, and I do. I feel really self conscious about it, but he’s nice, and professional. I suddenly get why people think he’s gay. I’ve never known a guy who was so able to control is actions, and knowing him like I do, it’s even more impressive.
He was one of my best friends in high school. I blush thinking of some of the fantasies I’d had about him in the past. I quickly smash down those thoughts because I’m hooking Angela up with him. And I’m not really a girl.
He gets my measurements and then measures Angela while I'm getting dressed. He's just as professional with her as he was with me. When he finishes, and she dresses again, we head out. I assume we’re heading home, but we find ourselves at a store I’d never seen before: Dahle’s.
I walk inside with my mother, and realize where I am and almost panic.
“Mom, I shouldn’t…”
“Liadan. Every woman needs more than one dress. And even if you only end up being a woman for a couple of days, you need this. I know your dad thinks this is temporary, but I’ve seen something today that tells me that we need to make this work, and likely on a more permanent basis. You never smile anymore...except you've been smiling a lot today.”
I don’t know what to say. I’m almost in tears as my mom, sister and girlfriend lead me into the racks. It doesn’t take me long to lose my self-consciousness in the fabrics and styles of the store. Everything there is designed with the ‘larger’ woman in mind. Mom is a little big, but I never considered the difficulty that she’d have purchasing clothing from a more mainstream store.
We end up finding a light dress that flatters my form. It has a sheath underneath a light gauzy surface. The material of the over dress seems to peek at my full-bodied form that the dress underneath hugs.
I feel extremely sexy in it.
We purchase the dress and I wear it out of the store. We head over to another store.
“What are we doing?” I ask.
“Well, Liadan, we can’t really go for a girl’s night out with your hair like that, can we? We need to get it styled a bit, and after that, we can have some fun,” my mom says with a sparkle in her eyes.
I look up at the sign above the door that reads Locks Nessie as we go inside. “Hello, Hannah,” the woman there greets my mother.
“Hello, Nessie,” my mom says with a smile, “We need to get Liadan here the works.”
“Let her hair down so we can get a look at it.”
They pull out the pins and allow it to fall free. She walks around me a little bit and she sniffs a couple of times to herself.
“I’m going to have to take off about ten inches. She has split ends all through it. The dye job is adequate, if a little amateur. Hiding gray I assume? Makeup, necessary. Nails…well, they are short. Extensions?” my mother nods, “okay then. Pedi too I imagine.”
She bustles me off to a chair and went to work. Even with her out at the ends of my hair, I feel so relaxed there listening to her cut and trim. I’m in a real hair salon, and she’s really styling my hair. I must have fallen asleep I was so relaxed as I’m startled awake by a sharp pain in my ear.
“Ow.”
“One more and we’re done. Your mother picked out a couple of heart shaped studs for you to wear.”
Another quick jab, and I can feel the rapidly warming metal sitting in my ears. The feeling quickly fades to the background as she turns me to face the mirror. I’m not gorgeous. I don’t think I’m even pretty. I’m definitely a woman, though. I smile at Nessie through my tears and hug her. My hair weighs so much less than it did, but I don’t mind. It's a feminine hairstyle, and it still goes half the way down my back.
We go out to eat and check out the guys in the restaurant. I’m a little shocked at first with my mother and sister, as they’re happily married women, until my mother explains it to me.
“Just because we’re married, doesn’t mean we can’t look, and besides, we’re mostly looking for you and Angela. A girl can’t ever get enough help finding the right guy.”
I relax into it, and realize that we spend at least as much time talking about what the guys seem to be like as how they look.
All too soon the night is over and I head home with Angela and we part ways. I hang the dress in the closet, put my earrings on the nightstand and slip out of my panties and bra. As gravity again pulls on my breasts, I feel sorry about losing them. I carefully clean my new underwear in the sink and hang them up to dry.
When I wake up, I’ll be Cray again, but for at least a few moments more I’m Liadan, and I cry with the weight of the loss. Today has been the best day of my life, and the only thing that keeps me moving forward is the thought that I’ll get to do it again next Saturday.
Before I fall asleep I turn off my 'minder.
I turn on my ‘minder before I’m even aware of my surroundings. It’s habit after all. Something feels off, but I can’t quite place it. My sleep addled mind finally realizes that the weight on my chest isn’t depression this morning. I still have breasts.
I know it’s still only temporary, but I smile up at the ceiling and slowly open my eyes. My breasts. The thought in and of itself is glorious to me. It would only be better if I could be thinking about another piece of anatomy that was denied to me.
I don’t let it get me down. I get up and smooth out my sheets and then check the time. I still have a couple of hours before my appointment, so I figure it’s more than time to get some ‘girl time’ in. I initiate the dry-wash on my bed and head into the bathroom to get my first bubble bath in years. It’s just a cap-full of my unscented body-wash, but it does sud up nicely. The slick feel of the water and bubbles on my new bits is so wonderful. Not is a sexual way, but in a self-validation way. I hope that I still look like this for my entire session today.
This is tougher than I ever thought it would be. I hope my parents know the problem that they’ve stirred up with this. This partial preview that I’ve gotten does not make me want to be myself any less. It only makes me want to be myself more.
The ache I feel at the loss is even more intense than the night before and I cry again.
I get up and dry myself off and realize something. I only have the one thing to wear. It makes me smile. I really like the dress, and it looks good on the current me. My bra and panties are dry, so I slip them on. It’s like coming home. I put on the dress and try to slip the earrings back in…but there are no holes.
I look at myself in the mirror, trying to find the half closed ones that are where they were…but my lobes are perfectly smooth. It’s as if I never got them pierced. I consider for a moment self-piercing with these studs, but I relent.
I have no makeup to put on, but I do have a hair clip that Angela gave me a couple of months ago. I gather up the top portion of my hair into a pony tail, leaving the bulk of it free beneath. Then I go about the task of gathering clothing up for after I change back.
I pack it into a small bag that almost looks like a purse. I smile at the thought. So many things make me happy today that I don’t know what to do with the emotion. I grab my keys, and throw my wallet into my almost-purse and head out the door.
I run my hand over the roof of my car and look at my nails. The extensions were covered in a light iridescent color. I check the time and realize I would be thirty minutes early to my appointment. I drive to the mall and head to the makeup counter in JC Penneys.
“May I help you, Ma’am?”
I smile brightly at the young woman behind the counter. “You don’t by any chance still have electric blue nail polish, do you? I used to get it when I was a teenager, and had a nostalgic longing for it today.”
“Let me check.” She taps into her store inventory link and stares off into space for a moment. She’s back with me before I even have the time to get impatient.
“Yes, we do, and I don’t even have to go into the back to get it.”
I wonder sometimes if all of this ready access to information hasn’t made us all a bit lazy. It seems to me that even ten years ago, people took the time to get to know what inventory that they actually had in a store. I pay the woman and take the small bottle out to the car with me. It goes into my purse as well.
I smile at the thought. I’ve been a woman for a little over twenty-four hours and already my purse is gathering all sorts of odds and ends.
I drive to the clinic and sit down in the waiting room. The bottle is in my hands and open almost as soon as my derriere collides with the seat. I apply the polish to my talons, and survey the results as they dry. The blue doesn’t, quite, match my outfit, but I don’t really care at the moment. It will clash less with my grey t-shirt and jeans when I go back to being Cray.
“Cray Allenwood?”
I stand up and walk back with the nurse. She takes my weight, blood pressure, and temperature and then leads me to the Doctor’s office. As I wait, I wonder if maybe it isn’t time to find someone in a private practice.
“Look at you!” Dr. Waters says as she walks in through the door.
“Good morning, Dr. Waters.”
She smiles at me. I think my grin is infectious.
“What’s all this, then?”
“My parents got me a Femin-U potion yesterday.”
“I’ve not heard of that. New nano-tech?”
“Apparently. They heard about it on Thursday night, or yesterday morning.”
“And they’re okay with this?”
“It’s supposed to be temporary.”
“Ah, hence the rather large purse you have with you.”
“I like the size of my purse.”
“With anyone else, I’d question it, but you are such a large woman that it seems to fit.”
I blush at the statement. She called me a woman.
“Before we get started, I’d like to download the data from your ‘minder so that I can go over it over the next couple of days.”
While she hooked in and began the process, I remembered once again why I’d had one of these implanted in the first place.
Simple devices, actually, these Data Recorders, Trackers, and Reminders. They're used almost exclusively by the department of corrections. Some high end professionals have simplified versions of them installed, without the GPS feature, because they can be very useful.
Mine was installed when I jumped in front of a bus a couple of years ago.
The driver’s reaction time was better than I’d hoped it would be. I’d been charged with public endangerment and been put on indefinite probation.
The minder captures surface thoughts and translates them into text in a small storage cell. It can hold about a week’s worth of information. It can also remind me of appointments. Like my weekly therapy session with Dr. Waters. If I’d know that it would give me a perfect reckoning of the time, I would have gotten one implanted long before I was required to.
“So, Cray, how do you feel?”
“I could just say ‘great’ but I know that’s not what you’re looking for. I feel like myself, I mean really myself. I see the world and it just feels more vibrant to me. It’s like…for the first time since I really noticed that there was something wrong with my body…it’s like there is color in the world again.
“You know, when there is a long cloudy day? And you are outside, and everything gets so washed out, but it is cloudy for so long that you get used to how washed out everything is? Well, you are thinking, this is normal. This is how everything is supposed to be. And then, for a moment, the sun pierces the clouds and the world comes alive again?
“That’s what it feels like right now. I realize how far away from normal my life really is. I live in this gray world and for the first time ever the sun came out and everything is alive.”
“Cray…”
“Liadan, please.”
“Liadan?”
“Angela gave me the name. She thinks it fits. I like the sound of it.”
“Liadan, then. I’ve said it before, but I have to say it again. You need to transition. You will end up killing yourself otherwise.”
“You can’t know that…”
“I see you sitting here before me, for the first time a truly content person, and I do know that. You’re not going to be able to go back, Liadan.”
“I will, I’ll just…” I stop and I think about it and I realize that she’s right. I can’t go back to being Cray, not really. For the first time in my life, I’d actually allowed myself to be the woman I felt inside. I’d taken a bubble bath this morning and just soaked. I’d painted my nails!
I'd become a vibrant blue, like the polish on my nails and I was going to just go back to being gray?
“Liadan, I think that I need to meet with you more than once a week for a while.”
“But…”
“No buts. I know you can afford it. And even if you couldn’t, I’d afford it.” She hands me a business card. “Come by my office on Tuesday.”
“You don’t work here?”
“Heavens no. I volunteer here once a week,” she said with a smile.
I don’t know what to say. I’d made assumptions, but I'm wrong on two counts. The second was that Dr. Waters really did care about my well-being. That one gets to me and I begin to cry a bit.
I feel the almost pressure of the change come onto me, and I struggle to breathe. It’s easier than yesterday, though, and I’m not completely flattened by it. My beautiful breasts are absorbed back into me, and my fat moves around again. I actually watch as the hair on my arm shifts back into the thicker, darker, male variant.
Dr. Waters is looking at me in shock. “You said an over the counter potion did this?”
“Yes, Doctor.”
“Get changed. I think you’ve lost a little more weight.”
I change into my Cray clothing. It’s not as bad as I thought it would be. The nails remind me of who I really am, and every time I see them, I smile. We go and get me weighed, and I’m down another ten pounds.
Apparently it’s easier to change from a girl into a guy.
“This is reckless. How could anyone put a product on the market that causes you to lose thirty pounds in twenty-four hours?”
“Twenty-nine and change actually, Dr. Waters.”
She looks at me with a question and I just tap the side of my head.
She smiles, “Of course. You have a record of the time always with you. I doubt this could happen to a better person. I’ve got a record of the change already.”
“Doctor?”
“Your ‘minder tracks hormone levels, well, all of your blood chemistry actually. They do it with any ‘medical’ condition. Helps psychiatrists track whether or not their patients have been taking their meds.” There seems to be a little disgust in her voice as she says this.
“Ah.” I say, when what I’m really thinking is that I’ll be glad when I can get this thing removed. The downside to nano-tech, in my opinion, is that the realm of what is possible is entirely too great sometimes. Just because you can do something, doesn’t always mean you should.
We head back into the office, and I sit down again. I stare at my nails for a moment or two to center myself.
“So, you got your nails done yesterday. I’m surprised you didn’t get your ears pierced.”
“I did, actually. They healed overnight.”
“Not unheard of, but a little strange. Liadan, as I was saying before. You need to stop this. You need to let yourself be…yourself.”
“I’m Cray…”
“No, you’re not. You’re always Liadan. You’ve been Liadan for as long as I’ve known you. Haven’t you ever wondered why you’re probation keeps getting extended?”
“A little.”
“Because you’re still a threat to yourself and others.”
I look at her, my mouth open. I’d never thought that it could be her fault that I still had to come here. Not that she’d admitted to anything, but the implication was there. I don’t usually cry, but I begin to cry again. It isn’t that I'm sad, or anything, I just feel…loved. Dr. Waters loves me. Not in any sort of sexual way, and I'm really not into women in that way, but in a way that left me feeling comforted even sitting across the room from her.
I cry silent tears that leave me feeling washed clean.
A smile lights my face when I'm done. “So, you’re going to keep me on probation until I transition?” I ask with a smirk.
“Of course not. Just until I’m convinced that you’re not going to kill yourself. Do your parents even know that you did this?”
I blushed and looked at the floor. This was one of the little things that I’d kept to myself. Good little boys and girls don’t want to change gender. Good little boys and girls don’t feel this depressed. And, most especially, good little boys and girls don’t try to commit suicide.
They knew that I was in counseling, but they thought it was to become a good little boy.
Well, two out of three aren’t bad.
The familiar panic grips me as I begin to consider the very real possibility of losing my family if I chose to go forward with what I needed to be myself. My chest tightens, and the fear takes me, and soon after the depression, and I lose that smile that had been with me since yesterday morning.
“Oh, sweetie. I’m sorry. I forget sometimes that it would be almost as hard on you to transition as to stay the same.”
I cry a few bitter tears, again with the crying, and just sit there miserable for a few moments.
“I want you to seriously consider having a talk with your parents this next weekend. This can’t go on. They need to come around, and fast, or you’re not going to be around much longer. Tell them everything that happened. I think they’ll understand.”
I’m not convinced by her words, but I try to put on a smile for her sake. It doesn’t look like she’s convinced. We schedule an appointment for Tuesday and I leave the office.
The weight of once again being Cray sinks into me as I go out to my car. Everything passes in a blur as I drive. I have no clue where I’m going to, and sort of slip into autopilot. My surroundings only really register on me as I’m sitting there looking down at my dresser and the two golden hearts that are calling to me.
Physical pain is nothing to the ache in my heart, and I simply push the posts through my now healed lobes. I then strip off all of my Cray clothing and slip into the dress. It doesn’t fit right anymore. I actually consider ripping it off, but I carefully remove it and put it into my closet.
I again hand wash my only pair of underwear and lie down on my bed. The texture of the ceiling changes as the light does. It is such a slow process, but it is a process. The light slowly fades and still I lie there, naked on my bed. I have no desire to be. I’ll just lie here until I die. I can do that. No one will notice I am gone for a few days.
The depth of my depression masks the quiet sounds of someone else in my house. I feel arms around me and I just cry. Angela says nothing to me, and I fall asleep in her embrace. If any woman could get me there, I think it is Angela.
Too bad she’s not a lesbian.
I awake alone, and again just stare at the ceiling. I wonder if the ‘minder can record dreams. Usually it is off while I sleep, but the thought makes you wonder.
The plan, for as far as I am planning right now, is to lie here forever. Maybe Angela will miss me, but I can’t go on.
My stomach betrays me as the smell of bacon wafts through the air. I head out to my kitchen to find her cooking for what seems to be an army, but is probably just two people. I sit down at the table, but she pushes me out of the room.
“You’re mother is coming, so get dressed.”
I get the only thing I know fits me, my kimono. It is so feminine, and I feel like myself when I wear it.
If I survive the week, I simply can’t be Cray anymore.
I never really want to admit it, but Dr. Waters does understand the situation more than I sometimes give her credit for.
I’m sitting there staring at the table when there’s a knock at the front door. Angela goes to answer it and my mom comes in and has a seat.
“Why haven’t you removed the nails yet?” she asks me.
“Mrs. Allenwood? I think there’s something…”
“Are you two sleeping together? Are you pregnant Angela?”
“Mom, I’m straight, okay? I wouldn’t sleep with Angela…well, I wouldn't have sex with her,” I amend as I think about two nights recently.
“You’re…wait…”
“Liadan is a woman, Mrs. Allenwood.”
“You’re old enough to call me Miranda I think, Angela. Mrs. Allenwood just sounds so…”
“Stodgy?” Angela supplies.
“Not what I would have gone for, but it’ll do.”
She appraises me for a few moments in silence. I begin to feel uncomfortable under her scrutiny. “This is all so sudden…” mom begins, but I cut her off.
“No, mom. It’s not. I’m under mental health probation and have been for almost two years.”
“What? Only crazy people…”
“I am crazy, mom, or at least a danger to myself. I stepped in front of a bus and almost got myself killed.”
“You need to pay more attention…”
“You don’t understand, mom. I did it intentionally.” There is no emotion in my voice as I say this. I’m neither angry nor sad nor happy nor whatever. Dr. Waters has called it ‘without affect’ in the past. The stress is on the A not the E.
I think it’s that complete lack of emotion that really gets to her. It’s like I’m some sort of machine just repeating words that have been fed to me.
“I’m sorry, I need to think about this, Liadan. I need to wrap my head around this mess. When your sister suggested that we let you be a girl for the wedding, I never knew…but she did, didn’t she.”
“Liadan is one of my best friends, Miranda, and Kate is my best friend. Kate and I talk almost as much as Liadan and I do.”
“And you’re sure…” my mom begins, but at the look of shock on both of our faces she stops.
“So, you’re gay like Jeff said?” my mom begins again looking at me.
“No, mom. I like guys.”
She begins to open her mouth and then stops. A look of comprehension dawns on her, and she begins to smile.
“Of course you like guys. You’re straight. And straight women are interested in men.”
I smile at her, but it’s a sort of sad smile.
“Straight guys aren’t interested, though.”
“They will be, honey. You were beautiful on Friday, and this coming Saturday you’ll be beautiful again. We’ll figure this out.”
“What about dad?”
“We’ll figure this out. You always did borrow too much trouble for your own good. Either he accepts you and he’ll be a part of your life, or he doesn’t and he won’t. That's his loss, not yours.”
“But he’s your husband…”
“Doesn’t mean we can’t disagree. Now, I don’t agree with divorce in most situations, and I have no plans right now to divorce your father, but I want you to know that if it’s necessary for your safety, then it will happen.”
“But mom…”
“Don’t ‘but’ me, young lady. It’s not proper to argue with your mother.” She says this in a sort of proper snooty way that reminds me of her mother, my grandmother. Not that my grandmother was snooty, she just loved to ‘put on airs’ for the humor of it.
It seems that I am from a long line of strong women, who I’ve been letting down with my behavior. I adjust the kimono and sit up straight.
“There you go, much more ladylike. Your grandmother would be proud.”
“Would she really?”
“I think so. She told me many years ago that you weren’t like other boys. She never used words like transgender or anything like that, but I think she understood.”
My grandmother had been the first one to tell me that I should let my hair grow long. She’d also been the first one to sit with me and brush it out for hours. I’d talk to her as she brushed it, and I just felt so content. When she’d died I felt so lost.
The same thought occurred to my mother.
“Two years…that was shortly after my mother died, wasn’t it?”
I nod, and shed a couple of tears. Mom moves the seat around the table and sits next to me with her arms around me.
“I don’t know why I’m so emotional this weekend. Every little thing seems to be setting me off.”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were a little hormonal,” Angela says and the two of us look at her, shocked.
No, it can’t be. I can’t be hormonal, can I? A little smile plays across my lips.
“We need to get you into a hospital to get you checked out, young lady.”
“I’m not all that young, mom, and I have a hospital in my head,” I say as I tap the induction plate behind my ear. Well not exactly tap it. It’s under the skin, grafted to my skull, like they all are, but you know what I mean.
“You were chipped?”
“As part of the whole probation thing, mom. Yes.”
“I’m so sorry, sweetie.”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s actually kinda cool. I always know exactly what time it is, I never forget anything I really need to remember, and I have a calendar of events with me always.”
“I’d wondered why you suddenly became a bit more thoughtful and called my on my birthday the last couple of years.”
“I’ve been considering getting it upgraded to include a phone.”
Mom looks at me a little shocked before I crack a smile to let her know I’m joking.
I’m much calmer after mom leaves, and spend time watching old movies with Angela and crying my eyes out. I’ve seen them before, but for some reason they just hit me harder right now. Angela spends the night holding me again, and I feel the love.
Monday is work. I leave the earrings in because I am tired of playing a role, and as ome of the owners of the company there’s not much my boss is going to say about it.
I stick the connection pad to the side of my head and interface with my computer. We’re in the middle of a new project, so I spend some time zipping from one update summary to another. No, I’m not actually in the machine, but the ability to type at the speed of thought is quite handy. That and the fact that I just have to think about opening a file or folder and it does.
I don’t play the games we make anymore because they’re too easy. Even with the whole sight/sound interface that most gaming systems use, they still have a controller of some-sort.
With my ‘minder I am the controller. When my employees found out they sort of banned me from the weekly office death match tournament.
Not that I mind, much. We’re working on a game right now that caters to the chipped. It’s a lot more difficult to program than we thought it would be, but that’s fine. My company has more money than even I do.
After checking on the progress that’s occurred over the weekend, I sit back for a moment and think about things. My life is perfect, or as close to it as some people would ever wish for. I’m well off. I have a loving family. I have more money than I could comfortably spend.
Even with all of this success, I feel empty, and know that without that one not so little thing my life is meaningless.
I call my partner into my office through the company chat system.
“Hey, Cray, What’s up? Love the nails and earrings by the way,” Steve says as he enters the room.
“Um…”
“Oh, sorry, let me change this a bit. Wow, Cray, what’s up with the long nails with that very flattering shade of blue on them. Are you wearing earrings? What’s going on?” The stilted, almost melodramatic, manner he delivers these lines in has me laughing. He smiles at me in a way that makes me blush.
“Steve…”
“I know, you’re a woman, and about damn time you started showing it.”
“What..?” I begin.
“Yes, I know you’re a woman. When I first started realizing that I was attracted to you, I thought I might be bi-sexual.”
“You’re…”
“Let me finish, woman,” he says with this smile that takes the sting out of it. “It was only after I realized that you were the only ‘man’ that I was attracted to that I started really paying attention to you. You may look like a guy…most of the time…but you’ve never really acted like one.”
My heart skips a beat as he looks at me in that way again, and my breath catches in my throat.
“Now, just to let you know, I find you attractive, but I’m not sure it will work out between us.”
“Because I’m a guy…”
“Because you’re my business partner. Seriously, Cray…”
“Liadan. If you’re going to refer to me as a woman, then you might as well address me as such.”
“Ok, Liadan.” He says, and again my heart skips. The smile on his face just melts me. I'm so lost in the shape of his lips that I can hardly miss when he starts talking again, “it just won’t work. This whole thing only works because we respect each other enough to disagree with each other when it really counts. You keep me moving in the right direction, and I do the same for you. If we ever had a relationship…”
“It would end up about the same way and you know it. What you’re afraid of is if this whole thing falls apart. Admit it. I mean, having my ex, here, working with me could get very awkward, and what would the employees think if their bosses were sleeping together…”
He blushes bright red, obviously embarrassed by my open manner of speaking.
“Look, Steve, we’re not dating. Not saying we can’t if a big lump would be the gentleman and just ask me out damnit, but we’re not currently dating. I know it would make things…complicated here at work, and I’d prefer not to date you looking like a guy, but we could make it work, if you wanted to.”
I’d been steeped enough in the culture to know how guys react to social situations, and while there are some guys who don’t mind the girl taking charge, Steve isn’t one of them. For a moment I think I might have been a little too forceful about it, but then Steve gets a smile on his face.
He starts walking toward me, and I panic and try to back up a little.
“What are you doing?”
“Something that I’ve thought about for a very long time now.”
I freeze as I watch him moving toward me. I want to tell him to stop, or part of me does, but part of me is cheering him on, and feeling, suddenly, very feminine.
My heart races as he draws closer, and then his lips touch mine and the world goes away for a little while. I can feel his stubble against my smooth face, and the press of his lips against mine. I so want to continue, but I need to stop and I turn my head.
“Steve!”
“I really like you, Liadan. And I’d like to date you. Hell, it almost feels like we’ve been basically dating for five years now, what with all the time the two of us spend here alone.”
“I never knew you felt that way.”
“Which is part of the reason I never pushed it. That and half the time I thought I was imagining things, and I was so afraid that if I brought it up you’d reject me.”
“But why me?”
“Because even when you look like a guy, you’re sexy as hell to me.”
I blush. I can’t help it. These damned, I assume, hormones are really playing havoc with my mind.
“So, did you just want to kiss me, or was there another reason why you called me in here?”
He’s still leaning over me, and somehow it makes me feel small and vulnerable, but in a good way. I’m nine inches taller than him, but sitting like this, with him leaning over me, I feel encompassed by his maleness and it takes me a moment to focus my thoughts.
“No, I called you in to tell you that I’d be starting to transition and that I would be presenting myself as female, if maybe slowly at first.” He starts to back up and I quickly lean forward and kiss him before he gets out of range.
“But the kiss was a welcome surprise,” I say when we come up for air. I’d meant for it to be a light peck, but he had other ideas and wrapped his arms around me.
“Well, I’ve been informed. So, we staying in tonight to work some more on the project?”
“Sure,” I say with a smile. For once, I realize what he’s saying when he plans a dinner for the two of us over lines of code and graphical assets.
“We really have been dating pretty regularly for the past few years, haven’t we?”
“Yeah, we have. I’ve tried getting in other relationships, but I keep comparing the girl to you. And no one compares to you.”
He says this last as he’s leaving the room. It hits me hard and I just sigh. I sit there staring off into space gently rubbing a finger over my lips for a few minutes before shaking myself and grabbing my phone.
“Hello? Dr. Carrin Waters speaking.”
“Doctor? It’s Liadan. I think there might be something wrong with my hormones.”
“Oh, Liadan. I was going to call you. Yes, there is something seriously off about your blood work. I need you to come to my office so we can discuss it.”
I sit there shocked for a moment or two. The silence is deafening.
“What’s wrong with my blood work?”
“It’s better if we discuss this in my office. I’m free in about an hour.”
“I’ll be right over, doctor.”
I tell Steve I’m going to be stepping out for a couple of hours, but don’t tell him why. A girl has to keep a few secrets. It’s all part of the feminine mystique…supposedly.
Again I slip behind the wheel of my Neon and I drive away from the building where I spend a great deal of my life. If it weren’t for game design I think I would have gone mad long ago. I chuckle a little at myself as I look at my fingernails. I’m not entirely sure that I didn’t go mad already.
I catch glimpses of myself in the rearview mirror, and for the first time, my reflection screams female at me. It isn’t just the earrings. The lack of makeup should be enough to say guy, but it doesn’t. I look at my eyebrows, and wonder if they were shaped a bit while I was getting my hair and makeup done a couple of days ago, and then it hits me.
My hair is in a much more feminine style. Sure, my face may still have some harder lines to it that people normally associate with masculinity, but the fat deposits are softening it some…
I pull my eyes from the mirror and slam on the brakes. The car in front of me is stopped at an intersection, and my bumper appears to be only inches from his. I wonder for a moment if maybe it would be possible to link a ‘minder into an automatic navigation system, letting me pilot a car without needing to look at the road, and then laugh at myself.
There is a reason that I got into software design. I really love technology, even if certain parts of it scare the hell out of me.
I’d never have gotten a ‘minder if it hadn’t been forced on me. I’d read too much sci-fi as a kid, and a lot of it talks about the problems of such intimate technology.
My mom had talked about getting it removed, but I knew that wasn’t really an option. Sure, you could remove the core computer and GPS, but the Nano-filaments that connect into most portions of your brain were permanent.
I smile to myself as we get underway again. I’m a cyborg, although people really don’t use the term properly: CYBernetic-ORGanic hybrid. That’s what the term actually means, but so many people have lost it through the misuse of all of the Terminator-esque movies.
“Come with me if you want to live,” I say in a horrible Schwarzenegger impression. I smile at myself in the mirror, not seeing the resemblance at all. It’s still a little funny, at least to me.
Dr. Waters’ office looks like a home, and looking around at the neighborhood I’m in I realize it is a home. She’s pretty brave, in my opinion, welcoming the insane into her home on a regular basis.
I walk in, let the receptionist know who I am, and have a seat. I look at my nails, smiling at the blue that they still are, and wait to be let in. I’m a couple of minutes early, and so I wait a couple of minutes before I’m called.
“Liadan, I’m glad you could make it on such short notice.”
“What’s wrong, doctor?” I say, starting to get worried. Her expression strikes me as one that you put on to tell someone they have a terminal case of dead.
“You have a Virus,” she says.
“Oh, is that all…” I say relieved, but she doesn’t look happy.
“No, not a virus. A Virus with a capital ‘V’.” At my confused look she continues. “There are two primary types of nanotech. The first is mechanical. It’s what most everyone uses, because it is much easier to…kill I guess is the right term for it. Electromagnetic pulses are enough, and render them inert. ‘Clean is actually Nano-cells designed to emit timed pulses after they come in contact with water. Everyone knows how to use it; short range, clean and simple.
“The second type is a custom engineered virus. Virus nanotech is supposed to be reserved for medicinal use only. It treats cancer especially well. I’ve personally administered it to a couple of patients with brain tumors in the past. The problem is that there’s no easy way to eliminate it.
“In checking your blood work, I noticed some strange T Cells. They didn’t match any antigen profile I’d seen before. I assumed that you’d taken a Virus.”
“But…”
“I already contacted the company. They were unaware that any of the Virus version of the potion had made it onto the market.”
“What do you mean?”
“The potion you took is supposed to be a permanent solution. There are problems with it, though. In testing it never reacted the same way with all subjects.”
“If it’s supposed to be permanent…” I begin, but she interrupts me.
“Your body is fighting off the changes the virus wants to make. Your immune response changed you back into a guy. Unfortunately, the Virus seems to be multiplying to overcome your immune response.”
“How is that a problem, I don’t want to be a guy…” I begin to say before I start to feel weak.
“Liadan?”
Her voice sounds so far away. The room is spinning, and I feel nauseous all of the sudden. I try to move to the wastebasket, but I don’t make it. I vomit all over her rug, and notice there’s blood in it.
She’s trying to say something to me, but I can’t understand her. My throat feels raw, and I sit down on the ground, hard. The pain I felt on Friday was a gentle tickle compared to this. This feels like someone is pulling me apart…only from the inside. Then the burning begins. I want to cry out, but my lungs will not fill with air.
I lie there on the floor, curled tightly around myself, holding my legs to my chest, trying to blot out the world.
Sweat breaks out on my skin, and I am drenched in moments. It smells strange, but I don’t worry about it too much. The pain is overwhelming, and darkness engulfs me finally.
The soft beeping of machines slowly registers in my conscious mind. I’d been having a dream that I can no longer remember. The last piece of it that slowly slips away was about a white dress. I’m confused for a moment, wondering why a white dress would make me feel so happy before I realize something else.
I’m no longer in pain. Other than an increased weight on my chest, I feel lighter…a lot lighter. I try to open my eyes, but my eyelids seem to be the only heavy part of me left.
“Let me get that for you,” a soft voice says. I feel the lights turn off, and hear blinds drawn. Light generates heat. I could feel the sudden minor cooling of the room as the lights went out.
She, at least I assume it is a woman from the voice, removes something from my eyes, and I try to blink them open. They seem to be glued together, though, so she wipes my face. It seems she’s wiped away whatever was stuck in my eyelashes as I can finally open my eyes. Everything is blurry for a moment or two before I’m able to focus.
“How are you feeling?” she asks with a concerned look on her face. I don’t know her, but she’s wearing scrubs, so I assume I’m in a hospital of some sort.
“Parched,” I say, or at least croak. My throat still feels a little raw, but that’s probably because it’s so dry. My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth, and I can’t seem to work up any spit.
“Let me get you something, sweetie,” she says. As she walks away I wonder at that. She’s probably twenty-eight or twenty-nine, but the tone almost suggests that she was referring to someone younger than her…either very young boy, or a younger woman. I can’t decide which makes me less nervous.
She puts a glass with a straw in my hand and says, “Let me get Dr. Waters.”
She leaves me there in the semi-darkness and I nurse the liquid of the cup. It tastes like nothing, so I assume it is probably UltraPure. Some people like the lack of taste that truly pure water can provide. Me, I like the mineral taste more.
“Liadan, you gave us quite a scare there.”
“Not my fault,” I begin before something stops me. My voice is different. Not quite the furry tones of before, and it’s higher pitched. It sounds like sex. That’s about the only thing that I can think right then. It’s not just sexy, but one step beyond that. It’s like someone took everything that a woman’s voice should be and distilled it then added a drop of desire and a touch of moonlight.
I can’t help it. I smile.
“I see you’re beginning to realize what happened.”
“I changed again?”
“You could say that. More I’d say you really changed for the first time. I think the initial change was the Virus testing out the waters, so to speak,” she says with a smirk at the unintended pun.
“Why do I feel so weak?” I ask. Lifting the water took a lot out of me.
“You just went through the equivalent of major surgery, a marathon, long term starvation, and female puberty all at the same time.”
“Puberty?”
“Yes, you had your first period while you were asleep…among other things.”
“My…what!” I ask. I never thought to hear that term applied to me. Sure, I dreamed of maybe…but maybe was impossible even with modern science…or so I thought.
I sit there in a daze, and Dr. Waters just waits for me to process it.
My chest begins to itch a little so I put my hand up to scratch it and run into something much earlier than I intended. A smile splits my face as I bring my other hand up and check out my new protuberances.
I have breasts. I don’t know if they’re big, but they are there, and they’re mine.
“Doctor..?”
“Yes, you are most definitely a girl now.”
I squeal. I can’t help it. This is something that I’ve wanted for as long as I can remember, but never really had the courage to hope for.
“Calm down, there are a number of problems that I need to address first, Liadan.”
The tone of her voice sobers me. Something about all of this is striking me as strange, all of the sudden.
“First, you lost a lot of weight.”
“How much?”
“You’re down to one fifty.”
My mouth falls open.
“It seems that your body was using whatever it had to fuel this transformation. The changes that your body underwent were severe. Your bone structure changed, and you seem to be a bit shorter…”
“What?”
“Not much, only an inch or two.”
“How…why…”
“Good questions, both, but not that I have answers for. In the midst of the changes, you became sensitive to light and sound, so we isolated you in this room to make sure you were ok. Your GP is outside; I’ll let him handle the rest. I just wanted to assess your mental state before I handed you off to him.”
Dr. Jensen, my normal doctor, comes in then and pokes and prods me for a while. He also takes the blood work data from my ‘minder. I have to admit that never having to get blood drawn is nice, and might be worth keeping the silly little thing.
“So, Liadan, you seem to be a healthy young woman…sorry, I can’t get over your appearance.”
“What’s wrong with my appearance?”
He wordlessly hands me a mirror and I take a look at myself. I look younger, a lot younger, than I looked before, maybe nineteen or twenty. My face is almost transformed. Yes, it is still me peeking out of my blue eyes, but the bone structure has been softened.
“Wow…”
“You can say that again. Do you feel up to walking so we can measure your height properly?”
I let him help me to get out of bed, and self-consciously hold the back of my gown together. He smiles at me and helps me onto the scale. I stick my butt toward the wall so I can stand up straight with my hands to my sides. I’m still taller than him, and he has to reach up to settle the stick properly. I smile at that. When Dr. Waters mentioned that I was shorter, I’d sort of hoped that meant that I was less than six feet, maybe closer to five ten like my sister.
“Six one.” Dr. Jensen calls out and I have to smirk at myself. Well, unless I really want to tower over Steve, no heels. He’s only five eleven after all.
I find my mind drifting to Steve as we walk back to the room, and only the cool breeze on my backside reminds me that I am half naked.
“You seem well enough, and if I didn’t know what had happened over the past couple of days, I’d assume you were a perfectly healthy young woman.”
“But I’m not healthy, am I?”
“Actually, the Virus seems to have purged itself as soon as it made the modifications. Your immune system was the only thing preventing this from happening on Friday. We’ll want to check things out a bit more to make sure, but as far as we can tell you’re not contagious, and all active traces of your immune response have left your bloodstream.”
“Really?”
He smiles at me. “Yes, really. Now, I think there are some people who are anxious to see you. I’ll leave to begin working on your discharge papers.”
Kate and my mom enter the room and I smile at them. We begin talking about small things, like the fact that I look more like a younger sister than an older brother when I notice someone hiding in the doorway.
“Hello? I didn’t want to interrupt,” I hear a voice say. The tones send shivers up my spine because they are so familiar.
“Get your ass in here, Steve,” I say trying to be my old gruff self. It comes off a little more inviting with my new voice, though, and Steve is blushing when he fully comes into view.
“It’s not ladylike to swear, Liadan,” my mom says. We all laugh at that, and I smile at her.
“I know, mom, but it’s Steve. He wouldn’t have known it was me if I didn’t.”
“I know it’s you no matter what packaging you’re in. I’m in love with you, remember?”
I blush bright red at this statement, and my sister just grins.
“Is there something that you need to tell me?” mom asks.
“Your daughter finally admitted to me that she’s a woman on Monday, so I figured it was a great opportunity to tell her that I knew, and that I was in love with her. She’s kind of slow sometimes. We’ve sorta been dating for a few years now.”
“I’d wondered why no other girls had snatched you up,” Kate responds with a gleeful grin that just doesn’t end. I can’t blame her as my own is just as big.
“I wasn’t going to push it, because I didn’t know if she was interested in guys.”
“What? Really? You never caught me checking any of the new hires out? I mean, didn’t you ever wonder why I liked to do the interviews?”
“Wait, what?”
“You thought it was coincidence that there were so many good looking guys in the office?”
“To tell you the truth I never noticed.”
“Isn’t that against the law? I mean you’re not supposed to hire based on looks.” My sister says.
“Actually, there’s nothing against hiring a good looking work force, as long as you don’t say you’re hiring a good looking work force.
“And mostly it was a matter of hiring a better looking work force. If I have two equally qualified individuals, then I have to have something to differentiate.”
“I’m shocked, truly shocked,” Steve says in a severe tone. “I thought you only had eyes for me.”
“Steve, honey, it’s a girls prerogative to look, just like it is a guys. Just as long as it’s you I fantasize about…um…never mind that,” I say blushing furiously.
Steve can’t keep a straight face and he grins at me. “Well, as long as you fantasize only about me, then it’s okay.”
He leans over and I know he’s going to kiss me, and I ache to have him pressed against me. My mom clears her throat before he can accomplish his task though.
“Liadan, you two need to talk about some things, but let me put something bluntly for your partner in crime here.” She turns to Steve and puts on her mom face. “My daughter is a virgin, whether or not my son was. She is to remain in this state until you two get married. If I find that you’ve despoiled her, then it will be impossible for you two to get married.”
“Why’s that?” Steve says with a slight smile. The fear I feel is surely evident on my face and I shake my head slightly, hoping he will get the hint. Most people talk about dads being protective of their daughters. They’ve never met my mom.
“Because they’ll never find your body.” There is no smile on her face, and even I get chills. I’d heard more than one boy on the receiving end of that talk, and sometimes it amazes me that my sister got married at all.
“Ok, Mrs. Allenwood. Also, I’d like to assure you that Cray was a virgin before the change.”
“Steve!” I exclaim, blushing again.
“Well, unless you lied to me,” he says. His smile takes the potential sting out of the words.
The three of us talk quietly after that, with Steve just holding my hand. I hold onto it with all of my strength, sure that at any moment this fairy-tale will come to an end and I will wake up in my own bed, alone.
We sign the papers, and they let us leave. Mom brought the dress that I loved so much from Dahle’s, but it drapes on me. I’m still a tall woman, but nowhere near as big around. In fact, I almost imagine that Steve could encircle my waist with just his hands. It might not actually be that small, but the imagining is good.
“I’ll see you at work tomorrow, Steve.”
“Go shopping today then. I expect a well dressed woman if I’m going to be introducing her as my fiancée.”
“Steve…” I begin with a frown on my face.
“I can’t live without you, Liadan. At least think about it.”
“That’s not the problem,” I say beginning to laugh and cry at the same time. “You just assumed and you’re asking me in the middle of the hospital parking lot.”
”Oh, um, well, I should have thought that out a little better.”
“You should have bought a ring.”
Something seems to occur to him, and he pulls a small box out of his pocket. Before he can open it I put my hands over his and sadly shake my head.
“I can’t deal with this right now, Steve. I’m grungy, in an ill-fitting dress, my hair is a mess, and we’re standing in a hospital parking lot. When I think back to you actually asking me to marry you, I want to feel pretty and loved, not have it feel forced.”
“You’re always pretty, Liadan.”
I blush at that, but I’m scowling, even though inside my heart is racing and all I want to do is kiss him…and more than just kissing possibly.
“Steve, it’s a bad idea for us to get married.”
“If this is about work…”
“No, this is about the fact that every time we have an argument you’re going to disarm me with one of your wonderful compliments and I’m going to be putty in your hands.”
He begins to smile, but I shake my head. “Steve, I like you, I might even love you, but this is too much for me right now. I need time to think, alone, and you need to ask me out on a real date first.”
He opens his mouth to speak, and I hurry to stop him.
“Not right now. Wait a while first. I need some time. Call me later.”
I walk over to my car when my phone starts ringing. I answer it and Steve’s on the other end of the line.
“So, is it later yet?”
I can’t help it, I giggle.
“No, Steve. It’s not later. How about I call you, or I see you at work tomorrow.”
“You could always come in today. It’s only ten in the morning.”
“I literally have nothing to wear, Steve.”
“Come in nothing then.”
There is something…inviting in his voice and I blush bright red and want to smile at him, but I don’t. He wouldn’t see it anyway, “Go to work, Steve. I expect you to give me a full accounting when I get there tomorrow morning.”
“Yes, princess.”
I laugh and hang up. I drive my little Neon home, after adjusting the seat a bit. I get home and I can’t get out of the car. I sit there and shake, unable to get my new body under control. I realize that I said ‘no’ to Steve because I’m so very afraid. I’m afraid to really love him. I’m afraid to be loved. I’m afraid of the thoughts I’m having even now: that death is a better alternative to life.
I can imagine myself letting it all go. A red bathtub, or a bottle full of pills, it doesn’t matter much to me. I could even see starving myself to death. At least that has the option of being slow enough that I could always stop partway through. Then there’s the bus route.
I stepped out too early last time. This time, I could wait…or just run out onto a freeway.
I want to destroy my body completely. I hate that I am beautiful. I hate even worse that I am actually desirable. No one should be allowed to love me when I hate myself for the feelings that I am having now.
I love the feel of this dress across my breasts. The nipples may be covered in the pretty pink bra that no longer fits with my new measurements, but the tops are still sensitive, more sensitive than my old chest anyway.
I love the feel of the silky underdress as it moves, and I hate that I love it. I love the way my hair frames my new, softer face, and I want to claw out my own eyes so I can’t look at myself anymore.
The tears begin to stream down my face, and I can’t stop. This little scare with the hospital has shown me that people would miss me, and it would be selfish of me to end it all, but I really want to end it all.
“Just let me go back to being Cray!” I scream at the roof of my car. My new voice doesn’t sound good when I scream. As a guy, I could yell, and at least it was allowed. My new voice…not so much. It just goes all strangled and hoarse. It’s a voice meant to entice or respond with subtle disapproval, not castigate.
I hate my new voice. I hate my breasts. I hate my vagina. I hate myself so much right now because deep down I don’t hate any of it. Oh, I want to. I so want to. But deep down, I want to wrap these long legs around Steve and…my breathing becomes a little shallow as I think about what I’d really like to do.
It sickens me how much I need Steve.
“Liadan?”
I ignore the voice. Maybe she’ll go away.
“You’ve been out here for almost three hours. Open the door.”
I shake my head. Go away, I silently scream at Angela. Instead I look at her, and I see her get scared.
“Open the door, Liadan. Please? Open it now?” She’s beginning to cry, and so I cry harder. I can’t let her in. She’s already seen too much of my soul, and never turned away. If she sees this last part, she’ll turn away for sure.
I whisper because I can’t bring myself to speak, “Please, just leave me. I’m not worth it.”
“Sweetie, you’re worth it. Please, let me in.”
“He was right…I’m just a little whore and that’s all I’m ever going to be. All I can think about is how dirty I am. I’m a dirty little whore. He was right, and I was wrong. I can tell. I’m wet over the thought of what Steve could do to me…what I want him to do to me.”
“You’re scaring me, honey. Open the door.”
I’ve never told anyone what happened. I can’t bear it. I’d thought that I might one day open up to Dr. Waters, but it was too late now. He was right, and I was wrong.
“Liadan…open the door!” Angela is frantically pulling on the handle, but it’s locked. I turn on the ignition, and she runs away. I knew it would be too much. I hadn’t even gotten to the really ugly parts yet, the parts where he showed me how much I loved it. How my body responded to him.
He must be right. Not even a day has passed and already I want to lie down with another man.
I sit there, staring out the front window of the car for a couple of moments, and reach over to put the car into gear.
The passenger side window shatters inward, and a frantic Angela is opening the door and climbing inside. She puts her arms around me and turns off the car and I cry into her shoulder.
“You are not a whore, Liadan.”
“You don’t know me…”
“Yes, I know you. You’re not a whore. You are a good person.”
“No…” I’m shaking my head, protesting, but she won’t let me go. I’m so weak now. I can’t pull away. A wave of weariness washes over me and I yawn so wide that my jaw cracks. Angela and I laugh through our tears and she helps me inside…only it’s not my apartment that we enter.
“Angela…”
“I know. We usually do girls’ nights at your place. I thought we’d try mine today.”
“Angela! I can’t…”
“Of course you can.”
“I’m wearing all the clothes I own.”
“Lucky for you I wear my dresses on the long side. They should still, in general, fit you. You’re really skinny now.”
I look at her like she’s crazy, because I know she must be. There’s no way I’m as skinny as she is, and I tell her as much.
“Fine, I’ll prove it.”
She drags me into her bedroom, and tosses me a pair of her jeans. My legs are longer than hers, so I look questioningly at her. She just nods. I slip out of the dress, my first dress, and then slip into the jeans. No tugging. No fuss. They fit a little tighter in the behind than I’m used to, and they are snug around my new parts, but surprisingly comfortable.
I never knew that jeans could feel like this.
“I figured you wouldn’t believe me about a pair of baggy shorts, and since I never go in for hot-pants…”
“I wouldn’t have…but…” I gesture at the six inches of ankle I am showing.
“Yes, you have lovely ankles,” she says with a smirk.
“No, they’re a little high, aren’t they?”
“Nah, they’re just the wrong cut to be considered capris, although you could almost pull it off.”
She grabs me a shirt and a pair of shorts, and I change the jeans for the shorts.
“That bra really doesn’t fit you, does it?”
“No, the band is too big. The cups almost feel right, but the positioning is off.”
I get the shirt on, and it is so short it bares my belly-button.
“I can’t wear this…” I begin but she interrupts me.
“You are going to wear this. I need you to really embrace this. You’re a pretty girl, Liadan.”
“This is slutty.”
She gets really angry at my comment, and drags me over to her full length mirror.
“Ignore for the moment that’s you in the mirror. Tell me what you see.”
“A girl.”
“Go on, I know you’ve got a better eye than that.”
“She’s wearing a cream shirt and shorts.”
“And,”
“And she looks like an innocent girl next door, okay? But she’s not. She’s a slut and a whore and willing to jump any…”
She slaps me, hard, and I put my hand to my stinging cheek.
“You are not a whore.”
“But…”
“You want to have sex. Hallelujah.”
“What?”
“It’s normal.”
“No, it’s a sin.”
“If having sex is a sin, where do all the religious little boys and girls come from?”
I open and close my mouth a couple of times. I have nothing to say about that. The thoughts won’t come. I’m usually better at making arguments than this, but I just can’t, probably because I’m unwilling to cede my position.
“But…”
“Premarital sex, sure, that’s a sin, if you believe in that sort of thing. No one says anything about post-marital sex.”
I blush at the implications. An image of me in a white dress comes to mind. The fantasy continues with Steve’s hands as they slowly…
My knees buckle and Angela helps me over to her bed.
“I thought going weak in the knees was a turn of phrase.”
“For some, maybe, but not for you. I have to admit to being glad I had somewhere to sit a time or two at work.”
“Angela!” I say blushing bright red.
“What? It’s true. There have been some really fine looking guys come in. Steve’s not that bad either.”
I hide my face at that so she can’t see my grin and my even fiercer blush.
“I can’t be having this conversation with you.”
“Why not? I’ve been dying to have it with you for months. You need it. We need to get you out of your shell.”
“Can we get me out of my shell in a different shirt? I really don’t feel comfortable in this one.”
“Sure.”
She grabs a different shirt, which only goes down to the waistband of the shorts, but at least it covers me.
I go and look at myself in the mirror. The new clothing changes my outlook. I could see the sex kitten hiding under the surface with the other shirt. This one, however, just removes the underlying message. I see a cute twenty-something looking back at me.
I shake my head and the girl in the mirror mimics me. Her grin just makes her look even younger, and more innocent. The pain in her eyes belies the innocence on the surface, but it is an innocence that was destroyed by another, not given up by her.
I smile sadly at her, knowing everything she went through, and apologizing with that smile. She does the same for me and we both feel comforted.
“So…who’s this ‘he’ that you mentioned before?” Angela asks me quietly.
I break down crying again. Angela helps me over to the bed, and I collapse onto it. I hug my knees to my chest and just lie there on my side. There is nothing I want less than to think about…him. My life has become a lie. I've become everything that he told me I was, everything that he wanted to make me believe.
Here I am in a body that for the first time really fits me and all I can think about is how much I hate myself for wanting it.
Even if I can’t talk to Angela about this, at least I think about it. I know I need to get it out, but I can’t find the words. They stick in my throat, and the obstruction almost feels physical. Again and again I open my mouth. No sound escapes but my strangled sobs.
Every time he touched me I scrubbed myself raw trying to get the feel of him off, but even now, I can feel him.
I hear someone enter the room, and finally find a voice to say something, anything. “Mom?”
“No, I’m not your mom, but I hope it’s okay that Angela called me.”
“Dr. Waters?”
“I gave her my contact information while we were at the hospital. So, apparently there’s something on your mind that you need to tell me?”
I begin to shake my head no, when she puts her hand to my head to steady it. She quickly has the information downloaded and begins to look it over. That’s fine with me because I really don’t feel like talking. I can push him down again. It’s the only revenge I feel strong enough to take. I hate him more for making me feel helpless than for what he did to me…although making me feel helpless was a major part of what he did.
“So, I see you’re experiencing a severe stress reaction to something, and as this seems to be something in your past. I’m going to go out on a limb and say PTSD.”
“Come on, doctor. You and I both know that the information is pretty much screaming that at you. I know that I’m traumatized.”
“Well, if you’re so self-aware, then why don’t you complete my diagnosis for me? Tell me what happened.”
I almost begin talking right here. For a moment, before I opened my mouth, I felt so comfortable. So loved, and then my mind turns to him and it all slips away again.
“No one can love me,” I mutter. “I’m just a slutty girl. Worse than that, I’m a boy who wants to demean myself.”
“So, it’s demeaning to be a girl?”
“A boy wanting to be a girl is about sex. I must be a homosexual, but afraid of the idea of being homosexual. Or I’m so self-deluded and screwed up that I’m mistaking my normal sexual attraction of women for wanting to be a woman. No man really wants this for himself.” I gesture at my beautiful body and begin to cry again.
Oh, how I want this. I want it so badly that it aches even now. I’ve had a period so I’m probably fertile. I want to be a mother. I want to be a wife. Not in a 50’s sense of loss of identity to the man, but in an equal partnership.
I feel this so strongly that I don’t even realize I’m speaking aloud when I say, “I want to be Steve’s wife.”
“Oh?” Dr. Waters says with a little smile.
Even in the midst of my fear I smile and blush. How can tears turn from pain to joy without ever stopping? And then go back again.”
“Sexual attraction is normal and healthy, Liadan.”
“But I’m a boy!” I try to yell. Again my voice goes all strangled and weak. I let out a wordless cry. I want to be able to scream and yell occasionally, but nature has other ideas apparently.
Dr. Waters laughs softly at that, and I can’t help it, I laugh a little as well.
“Stop that!” I say, trying to be severe, but unable to get it at all. I can’t help it, I break down laughing.
“Now, want to tell me about it?”
“No.”
“Liadan, I can’t do anything unless you help me. I never even knew there was this depth of pain in you. If you want my honest opinion, then you have to share your life with me. It is a good possibility that this is why you couldn’t transition before, especially if your dad…”
I looked at her in horror. “How could you even think that?”
“I don’t know what to think. Most abuse of children happens…”
“I was fifteen, hardly a child.”
“And hardly an adult.”
“He wasn’t an adult either. He was eighteen.”
“According to some definitions, that makes him an adult.”
“I didn’t see him that way. I thought he was cute, and I was so confused by it. In high school I stuck to myself because I really didn’t get people.”
“What about Steve?”
“What? No. Steve and I met in college. He was my roommate in the abortive attempt I made to live at the school dorms.”
“Abortive? You never told me this one.”
I begin to blush hotly and avert my gaze.
“I was so turned on by him changing that it made me uncomfortable. Both of us, really. It was hard not to look at him, and so I found other accommodations.”
“But you two stayed in touch?”
“His parents were paying for his schooling. He helped me to get a private room in off-campus housing.”
“And I can’t believe that you got me off subject so easily.”
“Sorry. I just…hate talking about him.”
“What was his name?”
I open my mouth to speak, and realize that in the past twenty-two years I may not have forgotten him, but absolute refusal to remember his name had worked. I would not dignify him in my memory with a name, and so now he didn’t have one, but this embarrasses me for some reason.
“I can’t remember,” I say, avoiding her gaze.
“Why not?”
“He took my power, my self-image, and he destroyed it, so I didn’t want to dignify him with a name.”
She looks at me a little shocked and I blush.
“Sorry, I should probably remember.”
“No, it’s not that. I’m amazed that you were able to take even that much power out of this. You are scarred and disfigured by this encounter, maybe even more than if he’d physically marred you. No one ever saw the scars because you covered them all up, and showed the world an apparently smooth emotional complexion.”
“Apparently I’ve been wearing makeup for over twenty years and never knew it,” I say with a smirk.
“And an expert job you did, too. It’s my job to notice the cover-up, and I saw nary a crack in your soul.”
“A little poetic don’t you think, doctor?”
“Maybe, but not overly so. So, this older boy…”
“He was the first one who made me feel…alive. His smile made me want to dance…or to sing. I wasn’t really good at either one, but I would have tried it for him. I would have done anything for him to actually smile at me.”
“What happened?”
“I dressed as a girl…”
“What!” Her eyes were wide, and she was half rising to her feet from where she’d been sitting on the end of the bed.
“For Halloween. Let a girl finish why don’t you.”
“Oh, sorry, I thought that maybe you’d dressed…”
I blushed again and averted my gaze.
“You little minx. Of course you dressed up in women’s clothing. Your sister’s I assume?”
“And some of it almost fit. I hadn’t really bulked out across the chest yet. I think it was swimming in my junior and senior year that helped that to happen.”
“Wait…you’re telling me that you were raped…”
“You can’t rape the willing,” I say almost bitterly.
“Did you want to have sex with him?”
“No, but…”
“Then it was rape.”
“But…”
“No, buts. If you didn’t want it, then you didn’t want it. Your body may have responded, but that’s what your body does. It’s called an autonomic response for a reason.
“Your body will even respond if you’re asleep, but you can’t want it then. You’re not even consciously aware of what’s going on.”
“But…I…”
“Ejaculated?”
I nod, unable to even look at her. I feel dirtier now that I’ve admitted it than he ever made me. It felt so…good, but at the same time I didn’t want it to feel good. I hate myself for how much I wanted that, how much I needed that, and yet never wanted or needed it at all.
“I’m just a little whore.”
“No, you’re not.”
“But…I want to let Steve screw my brains out.”
“And?”
“What and? I’m not supposed to want that.”
“He’s a boy, you’re a girl. I shouldn’t need to explain the mechanics to you.”
“But I’m not really a…”
“Could have fooled me. I’ve seen you naked, remember?”
I shake my head, not wanting to believe what she’s saying. I can’t believe what she’s saying.
“How many times?”
“What?”
“How many times did he rape you?”
“One. After that, part of me wanted…”
“How many times did you have sex where you were not a willing participant?”
“I don’t know. It went on for five or six months before he was killed.”
“You didn’t…”
“No…but I wish I did. Apparently one of the girls he raped got pregnant. Her dad found out and took a baseball bat to him.”
“How young was the other girl?”
“Twelve.”
“Sorry…tell me about Halloween.”
“I came to school dressed in a Sailor Moon outfit. I know, generic anime, but I knew that my sewing skills were up to it. I had my sister help me with my makeup. I wore a wig, of course.”
“How did that go?”
“I was using it as a test run,” I continue. I’m lost in the memory, my last happy girl memory, before he ruined everything.
“I was building up the courage to talk to my parents about…how I felt. I loved the attention I got in the costume, and I even got some really nice compliments from some of the girls. It was perfect. To top it off, he asked me to meet him at his house after school.
“I remember how my stomach fluttered when I found out about it. I was so happy. I think I must have radiated joy to those around me. I felt…beautiful.”
Dr. Waters just sits there quietly as I continue to relate what happened so many years ago.
“I arrived at his house…such a nice house…he kisses me and I pull back. No, I’m not that type of girl…not all girls just want to do that to you…he’s undressing, and I can feel myself getting aroused…I’m shaking my head no…please, I don’t want…he’s stronger than I am, and he forces me onto the ground. He tears my panties…no…no…no…I don’t want to, not like this. I don’t want to…but I can feel it building as he continues…every once in a while pleasure just bursts through me…”
I break down sobbing and Dr. Waters just holds me as I cry.
“Doctor, I’m so afraid that he was right, and I’m afraid that even if he was wrong that I’ll feel like I’m there with him again if Steve and I…I want to die.”
“Liadan, you were raped.”
“You can’t rape the willing.”
“Bullshit.”
I look at her shocked.
“The sexual drive is one of the most powerful that we have. We are hard-wired to want to procreate. It is part of who we are. Sex is a natural part of life. You need to embrace the fact that you are a sexual creature. No, I’m not saying to have casual sex, nor am I saying you should dress provocatively.
“You are going to want to have sex. Most people do. This may lessen a bit as the level of testosterone in your blood drops, but…”
“I have testosterone in my blood?”
“Most women do, though not generally as much as you do. Don’t worry, it’s not nearly as high as ‘male you’ had. Just higher than normal. There is some causal linkage between testosterone and female sexual response.”
“Oh, then as soon as this testosterone…”
“Don’t believe it. Female arousal is at least as much mental as physical. If you’re this ‘turned on’ by Steve, I doubt it is all the hormones.”
“He asked me to marry him.”
“I hope you said yes.”
“But I’m a guy…”
“Really? Strip.”
“What?”
“Naked now.”
I get out of my clothing and Dr. Waters walks me over to the mirror.
“I want you to spend some time looking at yourself in the mirror. I’m going into the other room and talk to Angela for a bit.”
She leaves me there looking at myself in the mirror. I’m a little on the skinny side, at least to my own eyes, but I have curves, the dangerous kind. I spend some time examining myself, both visually and tactilely. Nothing sexual, but I want to get the feel of my new body. I want to know where all the parts are. I even spend some time looking at my new vagina.
My vagina.
Mine.
The thought sends little pleasure spikes through me. There is no way that anyone would mistake me for anything other than a girl.
I get dressed again, relishing the feel of clothing on my skin, and head out to where Dr. Waters and Angela are talking quietly.
“I half expected to hear you moaning from the other room.” Angela says when I appear.
I blush, again, but I can’t help it. It’s not that I didn’t think about doing just that just to get a ‘feel’ for my new body, but I want to explore it with Steve for the first time. Not that I tell either of them this. I just smile. I have the same desires as I did before, they’re just focused in a different direction.
Dr. Waters bids us goodbye, and Angela and I go shopping. We start from the ground up, as it were, and get me some everyday lingerie. Then we get the sexy lingerie. Then we go to town and buy me a wardrobe.
“I knew you were rich, but dayum girl, we must have bought up half the store.”
A lot of my clothing comes from regular stores, as a skirt is a skirt, and a top is a top. They just fit a bit shorter on me than other women. Other women, the thought still gives me a warm feeling that I am considered a woman now.
We find enough clothing to really start my wardrobe, but again we find ourselves a Dahle’s before the end of the day. I may be wearing really skinny clothing now, but my legs seem longer. I think I lost most of my height in my torso. Maybe I don’t need heels to make my legs look longer, they are long enough as it is.
Jeans and slacks are my primary purchases at Dahle’s but I get some other things, like a skinnier version of the dress I just loved last time. It doesn’t seem to fit my new shape as well, but I buy it anyway, to remind me of that feeling from the first time I went shopping with my mom as a woman.
Its only when we get home that I realize that I’ve been happy. As we shopped, filling out my wardrobe, I’ve been happy. It’s not the shopping that makes me happy either. I was treated as I appeared to be in every store that we visited. I am a woman. Inside I have been for years, and the outside now matches that. The store clerks treated me as a woman, and I think that is a good portion of how much I purchased. I’d never have purchased this much if I stopped to think about it.
Not that I am a skinflint or something, just that I don’t think I should go out and purchase things for the sake of purchasing them. Even thinking that, I realize that I’ve only purchased the bare essentials. I’d spent years acquiring a wardrobe for Cray. Now, I’d only spent a day trying to do the same for Liadan.
Angela helps me to get the purchases into my apartment and I tell her I have stuff to do. She smiles at me and leaves. I think that she’s not as worried about me as before. I’m not as worried about me either.
That does leave me with a question of what to do with myself, however. With the cry, the counseling, and the shopping, I thought it would be later, but the clock on my wall tells me that it is just a little after three.
Knowing that everyone else wears casual clothing where I’ve decided to go, I get into a t-shirt and jeans.
Every time I imagined being a woman, I was wearing clothing that was distinctly female. It was a dress, or a skirt and blouse. Something along those lines was always a part of my fantasy. While the cut of the clothing was female, there was nothing I was wearing that I couldn’t as the male me. It isn’t a hello kitty t-shirt. There aren’t any sequins on the rear pockets of the jeans.
My outfit was as gender neutral as it could be, and still be form fitting.
I look at myself in the mirror and smile. I am still a woman, even in this.
A realization comes to me. Even when I was wearing guy clothing, I was a woman. Even with a penis, I was a woman.
Being a woman is not defined by how people see you, but it is defined by how you see yourself. Sure, it can be affected by clothing, makeup, and so many other things, but when you are sure of your gender, it comes through no matter what the packaging says.
Most people, I think, rely on the packaging to define their gender.
I take a few minutes to get a light lipstick to look right, but I leave all of my other makeup items where they lay. My complexion doesn’t seem to need it, and neither do I.
I’ll use much of it later, because a woman occasionally needs to show a new face to the world, but today, I think I will go au natural so to speak.
The wind whistles in through the broken window on the passenger side, a stark reminder to what really started this day. I know I’ll have to get it fixed, but currently it stands as a reminder that people really care about me.
I pull into the parking lot and find a space. I know I should just park in the one reserved for me, and everyone inside knows my little blue neon by sight, but I can’t do it. That was Cray’s parking spot, and while we share the same history, I’m not Cray anymore.
Walking across the parking lot in ballet flats is so much different than the shoes or sandals I am used to. They do something to reduce my height. Not much, I’m afraid, but anything is better than truly towering over every guy I meet.
I smile at that. Guys are something foreign for the first time in my thinking. Before all of this happened I was locked away in myself, knowing I was a guy, physically, and wanting nothing to do with it. Somehow that crept into my relationship with the male gender in general, making me resent them.
Now, however, I realize that resentment, and notice it’s leaving. Guys are something…interesting to me now.
While getting dressed, I thought it was because I was bored that I was coming in here, but I now realize that I want to be seen, and by the people I respect the most. The receptionist does a double take as I walk through the door. No one outside the office has a t-shirt like the one I’m wearing. I never told anyone that I got one for myself in a ladies fit.
It’s a mockup of the logo for our new game. The shirt is sort of a company uniform right now, and most of the guys wear it at least once a week. I realize that I need to start hiring more women. Not for any sort of equality, but just so I have some people I can talk to. Sure, I love the guys, to death, and some of them are really great to look at, but I never made friends with any of them. Steve has a much better relationship with them than I do.
“Miss, I can’t let you go in there.”
“It’s alright, Casey, I know I look, and sound, different, but I belong here. Steve should have explained…”
“Cray? No, it can’t be…”
I smile at the woman. She was one of the first people that Steve and I hired. She’d stuck with us through every single one of our successes and failures.
“I prefer Liadan,” I say with a smile.
“Of course, Liadan, and it really suits you better I think.”
“Thank you.”
“When Steve told me what happened, I expected to see Cray tromping around in a dress. Kind of like yesterday, only with breasts.”
“There was nothing wrong with me yesterday.”
“I noticed the nails and earrings.”
“Well, I liked the earrings, and the nails suit me, don’t you think?”
“Maybe in a color other than blue. They kinda scream, ‘I’m trying too hard.’”
I look at her and blink, and then smile. She is a little scared until I smile.
“I think you and I might just have to hang out sometime.”
“I’m not into…”
“Girls? Neither am I, thank god. Otherwise it might be a little awkward with Steve asking me to marry him.”
I blush at what I just said, but Casey squeals.
“You mean we’re having a company wedding?”
“I haven’t said yes.”
“What are you waiting for, girl? He is really good looking, has an excellent job, and I think he might just love you.”
“Casey, it’s not that simple and you know it.”
“Sorry, I got caught up in how natural you look that way. Everything fits now, which didn’t fit while you were pretending to be Cray.”
There is an awkward moment or two so I smile at her and say my goodbyes. Work grinds to a halt as I walk into the main area. Our developers and designers are organized into groups. Their backs to each other with an open space in between. It allows for easier collaboration, while still promoting good work practices. It also means that every one of them can see me as soon as I walk in. Some further back have to stand, but the general change in atmosphere causes all of them to have a look. The room is silent as I make my way to my office.
I can’t help it and I address them before I shut the door behind me.
“You do realize that this game is on a schedule?”
I say it with a smile, as it’s one of my frequent in-jokes. We never publish a release date until we are completely ready to release. It drives our fans crazy, but we have never missed a release date yet.
There are some nervous chuckles, as a couple of them get it, but they still don’t quite get it. Steve comes out of his office, “What’s going on out here?” he asks before seeing me. His mouth drops open.
“What do you think of the shirt?” I say with a smile. His eyes of course drop reflexively to my chest and I see him blushing.
“You little minx.” He says and the room bursts out laughing. I think they realize what I just did. Steve certainly does.
“Steve, you and I have a lot to discuss, like your not preparing the office for my eventual return. Casey actually stopped me wondering who I was.”
“Who are you?” a voice from the back calls.
“This is Cray. She is going to be going by the name of Liadan from now on, as Cray doesn’t seem appropriate anymore.”
“You go, girl,” says Henry. There’s some nervous laughter over that.
“Look, I’m still me, I just upgraded my packaging,” I say.
“It’s a great improvement,” says someone else.
“I’ll have you know she’s spoken for,” Steve says.
“Oh really?” I ask.
Steve colors, so I decide to throw him a bone. I kiss him on the cheek and then turn back to the guys, “nothing is going to change around here. We still have a game to finish, and I’m still noticing lag in the interface, Randal.”
“What lag?”
“The lag where I think about opening the menu and I have to wait until I die because the system stops responding.”
I’m looking at Randal and watch him color. I told him three times in email the problem, and only told him publicly to underscore a point.
“I’ll get right on it.”
I enter my office, and affix the pad behind my ear. I shoot off a quick email to Randal to meet me in my office. I look up to see Steve standing there. I gesture to a seat off to one side and wait for Randal to show up.
“You wanted to see me, Cray?”
“Well, it looks like listening isn’t really your strong suit, is it, Randal.”
“No not really,” he says to my chest.
“Randal, do we need to fire you for harassment as well as incompetence?” I say in a matter of fact tone.
He looks up at me startled. I think my bland expression calms him down a bit. I see Steve cringing in the corner.
“Randal, I’d planned on doing this yesterday, but events prevented me.”
“Events?”
“Yes, a medical emergency. That being said, Randal, I shouldn’t have brought it up in front of the company. If you’d like another chance to fix your mistake, you can have a fix for that bug in to my office by end of day today.”
“That’s only two hours!” he whines.
“Really? Then you’d better hurry. I mean, it’s not as if you have three weeks to complete it.”
“I never saw…”
“The multiple emails I sent you about it?” Steve asks, heading me off. He knew I was about to rip this poor young man a new one. “Or any of the emails that Liadan sent you? I checked your inbox. All of them were marked as read.”
“This isn’t fair!” Randal fairly screams.
“Then you’d better get to work, hadn’t you?” I say, calmly.
“Who are you to tell me what to do you b…”
“You’ll watch your tone, Randal, or I’ll be kicking you out of there,” Steve says, but I hold up a hand to stop him.
“Randal, I’m your boss. That’s who I am. Steve here is also your boss. Steve would likely want to fire you right here,” I say and Steve nods.
“That being said, I’m planning on giving you another chance. This is your last chance. Here’s the problem you have. I actually looked into the cause of the problem. I know why this is happening. I could have fixed the problem last week. It took me a little over half an hour to find it.”
“This is a set up.”
“Nope, it’s a test, Randal. If you pass, you keep your job. You fail, and you don’t.” I say it, again with a smile. I’m not happy to be calling him to task, but I am happy to be me. I get to do what I love, making games, and I get to do it as me.
I think I’ve thrown off Randal, and he sort of nervously walks out of the room. I giggle a bit and Steve smiles at me.
“What’s gotten into you, Liadan. I’ve never seen you so…”
“Bubbly?”
“That works as well as anything else.”
“Because I am really happy with myself.”
“Something changed since this morning.”
“I changed. I buried some of my demons. I’m not perfect…”
“You are to me.”
I see the sincerity in his eyes, and I blush, “I meant I still have issues, silly man.”
“And who doesn’t? Seriously, it freaks me out a little bit how much I love you.”
“What? You’re not…”
“Never. I’d never take back what I’ve said. You’re going to have to get used to me chasing you.”
“And if I tell you I don’t want you?”
“Then you better mean it, because I’ll be gone.”
The floor dropped out from beneath my feet. The idea of him leaving me was more than I could stand. I couldn’t even find word to voice it for a moment.
“I’ve decided I’m no wilting flower. You asked me to marry you, so I’m asking you to a cousin’s wedding. No, I’m not saying yes, yet, but it’s a possibility.”
“You’re asking me on a date?”
“Of course I am. You are, after all, interested in marrying me.”
“Then I’ll go with you to this thing as your date.”
“Good, since I don’t plan on letting you go any time soon.”
He smirked at me, and I just pushed him out the door. I did have work to do, after all. Seeing him wasn’t the only reason I’d come into the office. Sure, it had been a big part of it, but it wasn’t all of it by a long shot.
The pain has been growing in my back for a while now. It’s only in the past couple of minutes that I really began to notice it, though. I stretch my arms above my head, linking my fingers and just luxuriating in the feel of my body. It isn’t that I hated how my old body felt, but it was beginning to get old. The aches and pains of life were getting to me. Now…I feel so full of energy. It’s the best feeling in the world, even better than the feel of my breasts on my chest, and a smile just blossoms on my face. My arms are still hanging toward the ceiling when a voice interrupts the zen feeling I have.
“Who are you really?”
“What? I’m your boss.”
“You may be able to fool everyone else, but you don’t fool me. Stuff like this doesn’t happen.”
I look at Randal, shocked. “You doubt I have the authority…”
“You are just a woman, and so you have no place here. This is a guy’s business.”
“It’s video games, Randal.”
“Yeah, and it requires logical thought, not emotional connection. You can deal with people, sweetie, but you can’t fool me into believing you were ever a man, especially a man’s man like Cray.”
Randal is one of the people that I didn’t hire. He came from another company, by way of a year unemployed. Steve thought him enough a steal that he hired Randal without ever discussing it with me. Until this moment, I never doubted that choice.
“Be very careful what you say next, Randal,” I say very quietly. There is a slight quaver in my voice, and by Randal’s smile I think he sees it as fear, not the anger it represents. Too many men read shaking as fear. I’ve always shaken more in anger than fear, but Randal has never seen me angry. Now that I’ve almost completely rooted out my depression, it seems that my emotions are so much closer to the surface. This anger came from nowhere. I got up from behind my desk and moved toward him. I can’t keep my hands still, and keep clenching my fists.
Randal completely misses it, though.
“You listen here, missy. You’re too young to be what you claim. No one will ever take you seriously, but if you play your cards right…”
“What?” He’s actually trying to sexually harass me? I’m visibly trembling at this point. I can feel the white hot point in my gut that is burning away everything but his face. I don’t remember the name of my former assailant, but Randal is a perfect target for the rage that has recently taken the place of all of the fear that I ever felt about that man.
Nature abhors a vacuum, and filler thy name is Randal.
“Oh, I think you know what I mean.” He moves toward me and pins me against the desk. For a moment I feel panic. I’m a teenager again and he’s going to rape me for the first time. I feel as he puts his knee between my legs, trying to force them apart.
Unfortunately for him I’m not a teenager anymore.
“Randal, this is your last chance. Back off now, or suffer the consequences.”
“What are you going to do little girl?”
In answer I bring my knee up into his boys…hard. He collapses onto the ground. I don’t let up. I kick him twice in the balls, hard. When he pulls his knees together and curls into a fetal position, I begin to kick him in the head, the back, the ribs, anything that I can reach. I hear something crack, and then it’s repeated like a gunshot in a staccato echo as I continue to kick him. Even when he relaxes I continue to kick him. At some point I began to cry and I just keep kicking him.
Some arms pull me away from the lump on the floor and for a moment I struggle, trying to get at the next assailant.
“Liadan, relax, it’s just me. He can’t hurt you, relax.”
I turn into Steve and just cry. They’re big wracking sobs that drag the emotion out of me. I have no control over anything and the strength goes out of me. I feel his strength as he lifts me off the ground and takes me to the couch in my office. He lays me down there, and I feel him begin to rise. Blindly I reach out for him, not wanting to let him leave me. I can’t handle it.
He sits back down and I just sob into his back. I can hear him talking to someone through my sobs, and wonder idly who it could possibly be. It’s not enough to get me to really come out of the fugue I am in, but the curiosity is there. He stops talking and just wraps me into his arms, and the last of my tension leaves me. I fall asleep at this point, loosing track of the world around me. The dream that comes shows me events different from the ones that occurred; Randal has pinned me to the desk, and he is ripping off my jeans. I can’t act. I am frozen to act. My legs won’t move, and I can’t think. I scream, and arms enfold me. I push against them, and again Steve’s voice is calming me, letting me know I am safe.
I’m sobbing again.
I’m fitfully dosing again, afraid to fall completely asleep. When I’m awake Steve can protect me, but asleep I’ll have to face the demons alone. Someone enters the room, and Steve begins to rise, but I pull him back to me.
“Stay with me.” I murmur.
“Liadan, we have to leave. The officers want to speak to us.”
“This piece of shit tried to rape me, I put him down. There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Ma’am, we’re going to have to ask you to come with us.”
“Steve…”
I’m being pulled away, I hold tightly onto Steve, not wanting to leave him. I can’t handle leaving him right now. I begin to whine, a low sound in my throat.
“Look, go take a look at the surveillance video. The offices are also wired for sound. You’ll be able to see exactly what happened. We’ll cooperate completely with you in this.”
I feel myself shutting down completely. There’s nothing I want to do, nothing that feels like me anymore. I was so sure of myself just a few minutes ago. How could I have been so foolish? Life won’t let me be happy. There must be someone who can help me. I pull out my phone. There is only one person who I need to talk to now. I dial the phone and hand it to Steve. “Ask her to come, please. I need…please.”
That is the last that I can say before once again I completely lose touch with my surroundings. I’m being lifted up, and held in someone’s arms. There aren’t any tears left in me, so I just lie there in wordless agony and listen to a heartbeat.
His heartbeat.
It is slow and steady and lulls me into a sense of peace. I drift off into a dreamless sleep. There is a sense of presence in the room, that pushes into my subconscious, but it isn’t enough to wake me up.
“Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to get up.”
“Officer, may I ask your intention?”
“We need to arrest her. The video shows that she clearly over-reacted.”
“Really, that’s what you see? You do realize that she is a rape victim?”
“He never…”
“Not tonight. She was raped, repeatedly, over the course of six months as a teenager.”
“Who are you?”
“Her court appointed psychiatrist, Doctor Karen Waters. She was remanded to psychiatric care when she tried to kill herself.”
“You mean she’s chipped?”
“Yes. She is.”
“Oh…then…well…ma’am…Dr. Waters, we still need to take her.”
“She is not in a state that I can comfortably allow you to take her.”
“I don’t think you have a choice.”
“No, officer, you don’t have a choice. I am a court appointed psychiatrist. She is in my custody from this moment until she is arraigned.”
“If you’re sure…”
“I am. Thank you for your concern, officer.”
I fade out again, and the world goes away. I think I’m being moved but nothing matters to me. There are car doors closing, and sense of movement again, but Steve is with me, so I am relaxed, if not happy. There is a sense of emptiness in me, as if all of my emotions, my thoughts, my self has been drained out of me.
I wake up, and sunlight is coming in through a window. It’s not my window, and the surroundings are unfamiliar to me. There is a subdued elegance to it, and I really wonder where I am. The door opens to allow Dr. Waters into the room.
“Good morning, Liadan, how are you feeling?”
“Feeling?” The question makes no sense to me. It should, but there is no connection between me and the words. I struggle to make a logical connection to them, but there is nothing there. I tell her this, “I don’t understand what you’re asking me.” My head is stuffed with cotton, and the world is detached from me.
“Emotionally?”
As I wake up a little more, I realize what she is asking.
“I feel nothing, Dr. Waters.” I want to cry, but there aren’t any tears left in me. I want to scream, but I can’t. The scream is caught in my chest and will not come out. I am nothing. I feel nothing.
“It’s a good thing I intercepted those officers last night…” she begins, but a tone interrupts her. “I’ll be right back, Liadan.”
She leaves me in the room, and I get up and shuffle to the window. I look out onto the expanse of lawn, and I want to feel something. I want to recapture that sense of peace I had last night, but I can’t. It’s gone like any hope I had at a good life. I’m going to jail for the murder of that piece of scum, all because he tried to rape me.
The scream comes then and I collapse to the floor. It is primal and I wonder at it coming out of me at all. It isn’t the sobs from last night, but I feel the impotence in it. I feel like clawing out my own eyes so I never have to look at the happy people around me. I want to destroy my ears so I can’t hear the lies they tell themselves. There is no happiness in this world. It is a fantasy we build for ourselves in order to live with the horror that reality brings to us on a daily basis.
Time loses all meaning as I sit there in the corner. There are jagged edges in my mind that I almost gleefully probe, just to feel something. The pain of what might have been keeps me captive. The shattered hopes and dreams that were offered to me for a brief moment bloody the future and leave it a desiccated corpse of might have been.
The light is no longer streaming in through the window when Dr. Waters finally comes back into my room. Steve is with her.
“Liadan, I need you to get up. We have someplace to be.”
“Yes, Dr. Waters.”
“Steve, could you get her cleaned up?”
“Me, but…”
“I think it is best if you do it. She needs to feel someone who loves her doing this. It’s can’t be impersonal right now.”
“But…” He blushes profusely, and a hint of a smile brushes my lips. He is embarrassed to see me naked. An impish thought to strip off the gown I am wearing strikes me. Before I can do more than take two handfuls of material his hands clamp down on mine.
“Oh no you don’t, Liadan. Let’s at least get you to the bathroom first.”
That seems to have cured him of his embarrassment, at least for the moment. He leads me down the hall, and into a large communal bathroom. I can’t do much more than drag myself along beside him. I wonder for a moment where I am, but only for a moment. I’m alone with Steve, and he is supposed to see me naked. The same impish thought strikes me and I pull off my gown and am out of my underwear as he turns on the water. I feel nothing at the act, and the action is enough to have drained what little life drove me to it.
I stand there passively waiting for him to turn and look at me.
He tests the water for what seems like forever before he is satisfied and then turns toward me. “Lee…”
That is as far as he gets before he catches site of me. Shock registers on his face, and he turns the brightest crimson I have ever seen anyone become. He shifts his pants uncomfortably, and for a moment, panic seizes me. I know what he wants…but then he has pushed me into the water and is wiping me down with a washcloth.
Part of me wants to feel his hands on my body. That part of me is sending signals to places I only recently acquired. I tingle.
Part of me is afraid of what he would do if he was touching me. I know that he only wants one thing, that’s all men have ever wanted of me. They want to screw me and throw me away.
No, not Steve, never Steve. It’s all I can do not to
Eventually I relax and take some small pleasure in the act of being washed by the man I love. I want to help him, to do something to assist…to take him into me…somehow…but I can’t. It takes all of the energy that I have to just stand there, and I wonder for a moment if I am drugged.
He finishes cleaning me, thoroughly but gently, and then dries me off. He takes a clean gown from a rack next to the showers and helps me to dress. His arms go around me as he guides me back to my room, and I lean against him. I wish, in this moment, that the nanites had taken more height. I am taller than him. How will I ever be able to fulfill the role that society expects if I am so much taller than he is?
I want to put my head against his chest as we are walking, but I can’t.
I sit down on the bed when we get to the room, and someone is brushing out my hair. I smile a bit again as the feelings released by the brush course through me.
“Well, at least you no longer look like a mad-woman,” Dr. Waters says. “Randal will survive, so at least there’s that. They are still considering charging you with grievous bodily harm, but I’m trying to get them to drop that charge.”
“Dr. Waters?”
I turn to see a woman standing at the doorway. “Yes, Wendy?”
“You need to call the district attorney’s office, something about Liadan’s case.”
She rushes out of the room, and I watch her go in amazement. I’ve never seen her move that quickly. Steve guides me over to the bed and he maneuvers me so that he is half holding me. I get the opportunity I missed earlier to lean my head on his chest, and I feel like smiling. I like this. I look up into his eyes and see him looking down into mine.
A smile plays at the corners of my mouth. He is everything that I need and everything I have ever wanted. I don’t know why I couldn’t tell him before, but I’m ready to say yes now.
“Steve…”
“Liadan,” Dr. Waters says from the door, “I have some good news.”
“’Good’ news?”
“Yes, it seems that they are, at least in the short term, dropping the charges against you.”
“What? But, I mean, video and…and…”
“The DA doesn’t want the political shit-storm that charging you and the person who assaulted you would cause in an election year.”
“Charging…” I’m usually not this slow, but today my mind just can’t catch up. I’ve sat up on the bed, hoping that changing position will help me to adjust my mental attitude.
“Randal is being charged with multiple cases of sexual assault. His DNA has been connected with a number of cold cases.”
“How can DNA be back so quickly?”
“Where do you think the technology for the complete rewrite you went through came from? They’ve been working on ways to detect DNA with nano-tech for years. They’ve got the complete profile down to a couple of hours now. With the nature of the case, they rushed it.”
“Wait…rewrite…”
“Oh, that’s right. I never told you. You are XX karyotype now.”
“How…”
“Look, that is beyond even my knowledge. The company has sent me their material so that I can at least continue to help with your treatment. I’ve passed it on to your GP as well, and it is part of your medical records.”
“What does this mean?”
“It means that medically speaking, you are normal.”
“What is normal?” I say as sort of a side comment to myself.
“We need to stop by the courthouse today.”
“I thought you said they were dropping the charges against me.”
“They are, but I’ve arranged to get you declared legally female.”
“Oh…oh!” A smile lights my face and I turn and kiss Steve. Really kiss him. My mind finally kicks into gear and when I stop kissing him I look down into his eyes and simply say, “yes.”
He looks confused for a moment, and then a smile splits his face, “you mean…”
“I mean yes, I mean I will marry you.”
He pulls the ring out of his pocket; of course he had it with him the whole time. As the ring slips on my finger I know that everything has changed forever. From this moment on, I am bigger than myself. It is better to say that we are bigger than the sum of our parts.
Steve and I together are greater than either of us were apart.
The ring weights nothing. The ring is a terrible weight on my finger.
Dr. Waters shoos Steve from the room before anything can get out of hand. I change into the clothing I was wearing yesterday and go with Dr. Waters to car her, and I’m babbling away, and I can tell she’s concerned, but I can’t bring myself to be worried about it. That should concern me, but even the thought it should doesn’t bother me in the least.
“Liadan, before we go in, I need to ask you something. Should you really be accepting Steve’s proposal right now?”
“But I love him.”
“I get that, but you’ve gone through a really traumatic experience. Do you want to forever link your feelings with Steve with this?”
“But…”
“I get the concept of moving on, but this might not be the best time…”
“Dr. Waters, don’t take this the wrong way, but screw you. I know it’s sudden, in certain respects, but even if it wasn’t formal, Steve and I have been, well, dating off and on for the past eighteen years.”
“What do you mean?” she says. She’s back in her normal mode of address now, not cold, exactly, but not friendly. She just…is.
“Steve and I were friends. We got jobs in the same companies, and the two of us broke off to form our own company together. Sure, he’s dated, occasionally, but I always thought that he would eventually marry a nice girl and settle down. In the past couple of days he told me he has been waiting for the nice girl to be ready to settle with him.”
“Really?”
I blush, “yes, really. He actually told me he thought he might be gay, or at least bisexual. He has loved me as I looked before, and loves me as I am.”
“You don’t think…”
“No, I was the only ‘guy,’ or so he says, that ever interested him. And I was never really a guy was I?”
“From the moment I met you, I could tell that you were never a guy. When you told me your story, all of your story, it was more a confirmation than anything else. It was like a puzzle with some of the pieces missing. You almost have the entire picture, but it just seems off. Parts of the image seem to be showing you something out of kilter with the rest of the image. You put in the last pieces, and everything finally fits. You fit into the normal stereotypes that people build up subconsciously as they grow.”
“Oh…”
“It’s not a bad thing. You are a woman, Liadan, and a beautiful one at that. Let’s go in and make sure the world agrees with us.”
In the end, it was nothing spectacular. We sign lines, have blood drawn, fingerprints taken, and so on. Then they take my picture and give me a new driver’s license.
I’m legally female.
The feeling of joy that fills me at this moment is greater than I can handle and it expresses itself in a smile. There is another feeling that is making itself known to me.
“Steve, could you give me a ride home? Or at least over to the office to pick up my car?”
“Sure, we got your car home to your house, so I can drive you there.”
“As long as there’s nothing else?” I ask, looking at Dr. Waters.
“No, we’re done here, Ms. Liadan Allenwood.”
Sure, it’s my name, and just my name, but having it intoned seems to make it more official than the pictures or license did. I rush over and hug her and tell her, “Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome. Now, you and your fiancé need to go on home.”
I wrap and arm around Steve’s and he guides me out to his car. I catch myself looking down at the ring on my finger in amazement. Such a little bit of carbon and gold, but the significance is greater than either it’s value or it’s artistic worth. This is a crystallized representation of his love for me, and my loyalty to him.
I realize in that moment, that my ring for him, when we are married, means the same thing. My love, his loyalty.
Why does the girl have to prove her loyalty first? But I do get to feel his love first every time that I look at it, and I guess that it’s a fair trade…for now.
There is a part of me that wants to make him prove his loyalty. Somehow I realize that it would have the opposite effect to the one that I want.
Steve talks to me as we drive, and I participate, at least a little. Mostly I am soaking up his love for me, hoping to get back to something resembling normal in my outlook. The sound of his voice soothes me, relaxing away the pains of last night.
I’m smiling at him, and happy at everything that is happening right now.
“So,” he says parking the car in front of my apartment.
“So,” I reply with a shy smile. “Would you like to come in?”
“I don’t know…”
“You’ve never visited my apartment before. Come on. It’s not like you don’t already have a promise from me, Mr. Ferrel.” I say gesturing with my ring.
He smiles at me and goes to open my door for me. I let him. He gives me a hand to help me out of the car. I smile up at him as he does, and allow myself to be pulled into his embrace.
We walk to my apartment arm in arm.
“Can I get you something to drink?” I ask as I head into the kitchen.
“Just some water, thanks,” he replies. This is normal for him, and I just smile. I could probably have guessed what he wanted, but it feels better to allow him the option to choose.
I bring him his glass and bring one of my own. We talk quietly for a while and then I put on a movie. It’s something he suggested, and I just lean into him. My breathing is shallow as I begin to realize that we are truly alone here. Steve puts his arm around my waist and the tingling from before is back.
I begin to feel moist below, and my breath catches in my throat. The spot where his hand touches my bare skin is on fire, and when he slowly begins to rub his fingers back and forth the fire spreads to my entire body.
He’s only touching this one spot on me and yet I can feel the pressure building in me. It’s not the same as it was when I was a boy, but I can tell when I’m becoming aroused. I can tell when I’m approaching climax.
And I’m approaching climax. It is like an entire new world has been opened before me, this realization that his slightest touch could bring this up in me. My entire body seizes up and my breathing stops as I peak, and I’m soaked below.
My breathing is ragged, and I have a goofy grin on my face.
“Liadan, are you ok?”
I nod, “Mhmm.” I stretch and put my hands over his.
“Did you just…”
“Mhmm,” I purr at him.
He pulls his hands away from me as if he was burned.
“Liadan…”
“Steve?” I say, a ball of ice in my stomach.
“I shouldn’t have come here.”
“No, don’t say that,” I plead.
“I have to go.”
“Stay with me. I’ll move to the other side of the couch, you don’t have to leave here.”
“I can’t stay here. We can’t do this.”
“Do what? We’re both adults here, Steve.”
“I’m not going to have sex with you, Liadan.”
“You already did, face it and own up to it.”
“I just touched you.”
“And that is enough. I love you, Steve.”
“I can’t stay here, I need to leave before we do more here.”
“Don’t leave me!”
“I have to. I won’t do this to you.”
“If you leave me…”
“Don’t say it, Lee.”
“If you leave me, don’t bother coming back,” I say with venom in my voice.
“You don’t mean that.”
I take the ring off and throw it at him. He’s just like all the rest. He screws me and leaves me. “Get out!” I scream my strangled scream at him.
He leaves quietly after putting my ring on the end table. I hear the door lock behind him and I begin to cry the tears that I thought were gone forever when I said yes to him.
The next day I don't get out of bed. I lie there looking at the ceiling. The only thing I can do is avoid thinking of the mistakes I've made in my life.
"That's it," I say talking to myself, "No more wallowing in self pity."
I get up and get some loose clothing on. It will be easier to get out of where I'm going. I grab my ring off the table on my way out the door and slip it into my purse.
I walk into Sandy's shop. "I think we need to take my dress in," I say with a little smile.
"Damn, Liadan, you look good."
"But I'm so much thinner than when you measured me before."
"Crap, you're right," he says with a smile. He hands me the dress and I strip down and change into it. It's falling off me, of course, but Sandy just clucks his tongue and begins making marks and pinning darts. It takes five or ten minutes but when he's done I catch a look of myself in the mirrors and it takes my breath away.
"Is that me?" I say in a little bit of awe. A few tears leak forth as I smile.
The dress has gone from something I'd never like to something that fits me better than any dress I'd tried on. "This dress is amazing. How did you make it for me without ever having seen me?"
"The same way I make most of my dresses; I saw it in a dream."
I laugh, "You're kidding, right?"
"Nope, I dream about crinolines and lace. Do you think any less of me?"
"I couldn't think any less of you, Sandy."
"Well, thank you so much…I can't even think of a good name for you."
"So, I'm not even worth an insult? Thank you sooo much."
He just laughed and I giggled like a little girl. He undid the zipper and let me out of the dress so he could get to work on the alterations. He had to have it ready for tomorrow after all. "Sorry about coming in so last minute. It's been a crazy week," I said as I was getting dressed in the clothes I'd come in wearing.
"Someday you'll have to tell me about it. Did you hear I'm going to be Angela's date for the wedding?"
"Really?"
"Your cousin wanted me to be there just in case she needed any alterations to her dress and Angela and I thought that if she was there as my 'assistant'…"
"You just wanted to see her there in a pretty dress."
"No, I want to help her out of a pretty dress, but seeing her in one is enough of a start."
"You're a bad man, Sandy."
"I just love that I can still treat you like one of my guy friends, even though you're now one of my girl friends."
"Um…"
"You haven't changed all that much. A little packaging, really, but you're still you. Don't ever change, Okay?"
"No, I won't change, and I'm not going to hug you even though that statement really makes me want to."
He takes me into his arms and gives me a friendly squeeze. "I'll accept that change. You're as huggable as you look."
I laugh and head into the bathroom to repair any damage to my makeup.
"See you tomorrow, then?"
"I should be done with this in a couple of hours, actually. I want to get a final fitting in tonight just in case there are any problems. I'll still have time to get it altered. I want you to be able to wear this dress whenever the mood hits you."
"Why?"
"Because it's the most beautiful dress I've ever created, at least when you wear it. I sort of feel sorry for your cousin."
"Why's that?"
"Because you might just outshine the bride."
I blush as I leave the store. I take a swatch of cloth with me to the makeup counter in a nearby store. I want some colors that will look good with it. I'm still wearing my metallic blue nail polish, and it calms me every time I see it.
Cosmetics in hand, I take a moment to reapply my personal color before heading in to work. The time I spent with Sandy has centered me. He was always a good friend in school, and it looks like nothing has changed. I wonder at his self control with all those beautiful women around him every day. He is definitely one of a kind.
I walk into the company and wave at Casey as I walk past. Steve isn't in his office so I head to mine and get to work. I code and test for a couple of hours before I just run out of patience.
I head out front to where Casey is still sitting. "Do you know where Steve is?"
"He's working from home today."
I'm sure I look disappointed, because she looked at me with pity in her eyes. "Is everything alright?"
"We had a fight, and I'd hoped to try to patch it up here. Un fortunately I'm not having any luck focusing on work right now."
"Then go to him."
"I can't do that. I'm a grown woman, not some lovesick teenager."
"All the more reason to go to him. Show him you're an adult about the whole thing."
"That's part of the problem, I think."
"He does care about you. I was sure he was gay, the way he doted on you before."
I smile sadly, "Apparently he saw through my façade easier than some other people."
"Nah. I just saw how feminine you were and assumed. Who knew that you really were the woman in that relationship?"
I stick my tongue out at her and head for the door. "Come on, go to him," She calls as I'm leaving.
I drive my little Neon to the dealership instead. I wait around while they replace the window that Angela broke out. I know I'm stalling, but what can I do. I really don't feel as though I did anything wrong, but the way that Steve is acting, could I be the wrong one here?
I make a phone call as I go out to my newly repaired car, "Dr. Waters…could I speak with you about something?"
"Go right ahead, Liadan."
"I had an orgasm when Steven touched me"
"How do you feel about that?"
"Wonderful, or I did until he left me."
"Tell me a bit more about the circumstances."
"Well, I sorta promised him we wouldn't have sex. Then, when I was a bit goofy afterwards I let him know what happened. I didn't plan to be so…I have no idea how to describe what his touch does to me."
"Are you afraid this is a side effect of the nannites?"
"Of course I am. Could it be? Could they have made me some sort of sex-crazed maniac?"
"Are you sleeping with strangers?"
"No. I didn't even sleep with Steve. He just touched my side, rubbing these small circles." My breath became short just thinking about last night. I can feel it building, and then I sigh and my body tenses again as a rush of pleasure goes through me again.
"Oh, god," I say almost in tears. "I just did it again. I'm so embarrassed."
"You just…oh. That's…embarrassing."
"Sorry, I'll go."
"No, Liadan. Maybe you and I should talk about this more, in person."
I nod mutely.
"So I can get the readouts from your 'minder."
"Oh," I say relieved.
I drive over to Dr. Waters' house and park my car. I grab my purse and head up to the door. It's only a moment or so that I hesitate, but then I knock, waiting for someone to answer. Dr. Waters opens the door and smiles at me. "Come on in, Liadan."
My answering smile is happy, if still a bit worried. My emotions are all over the map. I follow her into her office and have a seat. She hooks up the pad behind my ear so that she can get real time data. Sure, I enjoyed the last two times this happened, while they were happening, but that doesn't mean it doesn't scare me half to death now that I'm clear headed and can think about it.
"So, what happened after?"
I sit back, relaxing, not wanting to think about after, but knowing I had to tell her. "I think I accused him of rape, when what I did could almost be considered rape…couldn't it?"
"Did you intend to have an orgasm with him on the couch?"
"Well, not really, but when I started…climaxing…I didn't stop him from touching me."
"Did it feel good?"
"Oh yes. Completely. His touch took me where I wanted to be, and it was him with me, and I wanted to share that with him. I wanted to give him some of that pleasure back."
"I think this took both of you by surprise. I think that Steve is afraid of what sex with you outside of marriage will mean to your long term relationship."
"But…if I don't care…"
"Can you truly say you would respect him if he came in here and had sex with you, right now, on that couch?"
I think about it, and realize she is right. If he'd stayed, I would have hated him for it. When all the hormones and chemicals my body had been flooded with had passed, I would have been pissed at him for not respecting me enough to leave…and when he left I'd accused him of…
"What's wrong with me?"
"You're a beautiful mess, Liadan, but I think that Steve just wants to see the beautiful in you. Are you still engaged?"
"I think so. I threw the ring at him, but he just picked it up and put it on the table for me."
"Ok, it looks like the system is responding to your 'minder. I want you to think back on his touch again."
The response is almost immediate. I can feel the pressure building inside me, seeking for release…only this time it keeps building. My breathing becomes shallow. My thoughts shatter into little pieces, only to have the pieces shatter even smaller. "Steve…" I call out as it builds even more. I flush. Finally, when I can take it no more I peak and all of my muscles contract and I'm shuddering and sobbing because it's so beautiful and at the same time so very ugly and I'm exposed and dirty and alone.
Dr. Waters just holds me as I break into little pieces again, only not the good kind.
"I think your 'minder is broken."
"But…it still tells me the time, and I can still interface with my computer and…"
"And it keeps looping you into certain emotional states. I'm surprised I didn’t notice this before. It's causing a feedback loop. To a certain degree it's been making you a bit bipolar."
"What can we do about it?"
Dr. Waters gets up and walks over to her desk. She checks a couple of things on her computer while I wait patiently for a response. "Ok, it looks like we can have you in surgery on Monday."
"Surgery?"
"Well, it's the only way we can fix the problem with your 'minder. It shouldn't take more than a couple of hours, but you'll want someone there to drive you home."
I nod, unsure of what to feel about it.
"Liadan, it's not the end of the world. You're a strong woman. You'll get through this."
"How much of what I've decided recently is the 'minder and how much is me?"
"Is that what you're worried about?"
"What if I don't really feel what I think I do? What if I'm not really this," I say grabbing painfully onto my breasts.
"I don't think I have to worry about that."
"Why not?"
"Because I've spoken to Angela."
"What does that…"
"You've wanted to be a girl for a long time, longer than you've had a minder. You stepped in front of a bus, remember?"
How could I forget? In certain aspects I'd died that day. In one certain regard I'd only come alive that day as well. When I was lying in bed recovering from the implant of the 'minder, I'd decided that I was done hiding from who I was, that I truly needed to live my life.
Sure, I'd gone back on that deal, but at least I'd started down the path that lead me here, led me to being a woman.
"Help me?"
"I'll always help you. Now, let's discuss how you deal with Steve."
"I don't want to 'deal' with Steve. I want him to make love to me until I'm a pile of jell-o and then do it again…" I blush as I realize that I just said that aloud.
"I've told you before; it's perfectly healthy to have a libido."
"He wants to wait. I'm ruined, but he wants to wait for our marriage bed."
"Liadan…you're a virgin."
"How can that be? With all that boy put me through? I'm sullied. I'm debased."
"You've never willingly been with a man, Liadan. And I was referring to physically. Your body is pristine. You were given a second lease on life."
"My…wha…huh?"
"That was very elegantly said. You may have noticed all your scars are gone? All of them, including those left by…him."
I absently touch my behind, knowing the blood that he'd caused to flow.
"How…" I pause unable to continue. I'm crying, but I don't know if it is from joy or pain. I do know these tears are cleansing and I'm feeling better in my soul the longer they flow.
"Do I know or how did it happen?"
I just nod as I'm unable to form coherent thoughts enough to make words escape my mouth.
"Well, as to the first, my title of 'doctor' isn't just honorary. I read your charts while we were in the hospital. You had your first gynecological exam while you were unconscious on Tuesday. Count your blessings, girly. As for the other, I let the doctor know some of what had happened to you in the past so that he would check the other area."
"He? My gynecologist is a male?"
"No, the one that the hospital assigned is male. You get to pick your own."
"Oh," I said and blushed. The idea of some strange male looking at me down there made me blush harder. I shuddered.
"I just don't understand how girls can stand some strange guy poking them down there."
"I personally prefer a male. It's so weird to me considering a woman doing it. I mean, the male anatomy is designed to penetrate, so…"
"We are so not having this conversation right now."
She just laughs at me and I blush again.
"There is a reason that there are both male and female ObGyn's out there. Some women prefer another woman to be ministering to them in a totally clinical non sexual way, and some prefer a man."
I sit there thinking for a while. There's so much to consider. I'm in the middle of my ruminations when something really strikes me.
"I'm a virgin." I say it with a certain amount of fear. My first time was really painful. I thought that I'd never have a first time again. The room went grey and my ears began ringing. I'd almost gone to bed with Steve, and there would have been that pain again. I never wanted that pain again.
"Deep breaths, Liadan." I hear coming from a long way away. It's Dr. Waters.
"I'm a virgin." I saw again.
"Yes, I realize that."
"No, I can't go through that again. That pain. I can't…"
"Liadan, this isn't the same."
"But…"
"Yes, being raped hurts, especially when you're a virgin. When he loves you, and takes his time and makes sure your body is ready, you won't care about a little pain, and it isn't as much as the pleasure you two will be feeling."
"But…I'm scared."
"So was I with Mr. Waters."
"You're married?"
"I was, a long time ago it feels sometimes."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. I still love him, even if he's no longer with me. He made that experience wonderful for me. I'm sure Steve will do the same for you."
"I just realized. I have no idea what it will be like. I don't know how it will feel. That other part of me, that part that he took, I never have to offer to Steve. I leave it in my past as if it happened to another person."
"In a certain light, yes, you're right."
"Then, I'll just stay in the light."
She laughs a bit when I say this. I smile at her, just happy to be through this crisis of my own creation. No, not my creation. I wouldn't accept the parts that were given to me. I would take responsibility for my own actions only.
"Thank you, Dr. Waters."
"See you on Monday, Liadan."
I get in my car and smile down at my nail. They're blue. I love blue. I think that blue might be my favorite color. Screw stereotypes. I am a girl and I love the color blue.
I drive home in a happy mood. I look at the time and head out immediately again. It's a quick stop at Sandy's store. The alterations are perfect. I head home so I can get ready for my evening. I throw on a dress, get made up, and do my hair. Looking at my wardrobe, I realize that I have a lot of dark colors in there. I do have a number of blue dresses as well. I fine a not so dark blue dress and slip it on. With the sparkles in it, it looks a lot like my nails and car.
I have a matching pair of shoes that I slip onto my stocking covered feet.
I go with a black clutch as I don't have a matching purse. Some silver spiral drop earrings complete my look and I sprits some perfume and walk out the door.
The drive to the church is over quickly and I park and make my way inside.
"Who are you?" my cousin Fiona says. She's the matron of honor.
"Liadan, you made it," Kate says, coming over and giving me a hug.
"Who?"
"This is my new sister."
"Cray..?"
"My name is Liadan," I say glaring at my younger cousin.
"This is a joke, right?" she says looking nervous.
"At some point, if it will make you feel better, we can all get naked and show off how female we all are. Until then, we have a rehearsal to do."
She just looks at me a little shocked. My youngest cousin walks over and hugs me, "Thank you, Cray. This means the world to me. I heard what you sacrificed for this."
"Heard? From my dad? Well, my name is Liadan, Amy, and this is the best thing to ever happen to me." I'm smiling like there's no tomorrow.
"Liadan? You really are happy, aren't you?"
I just nod and smile.
"Fiona, be nice to Liadan. Liadan, love the dress."
"Thank you," I say with a smile.
We go and stand where we fit height wise. They want us to look pretty, and to have everything organized. Once we are set up height wise, with me on the far end of course, we go out and do the processional and the recessional.
Then we had to do the processional and recessional again, this time with me in stocking feet, because I was taller than Jim. Jim was the cousin that I was opposite in the lineup. In stocking feet he was a few inches taller. I shouldn't have worn the shoes. Sure, they matched my outfit, but they had a six inch heel.
For some girls, that would have put them on tip toe, but in a women's size 11 shoe it isn't that bad. A size 11 shoe means that in essence I have an 10 and a half inch foot. That meant I lost two inches in foot length. I would have been happier in a smaller size, but you live with what you have.
Regardless, I liked the heels as it made me the same height as I used to be as a guy. I was the tallest male cousin before, now I was the tallest female cousin…and taller than some of my male cousins.
"Sorry, Jim," I say as we're doing it again.
"Those are some of the sexiest heels I've ever seen. It makes me wish you weren't my cousin." I blush as he takes my arm and escorts me up to the front. "Need I remind you that you're married?"
"I knew there was another reason I couldn't make a play for you."
I playfully swat his arm and then walk to my place at the end of the line. Fiona and Ryan are the last ones to come up to the front. We wait for a moment or two and the Amy is being escorted down the aisle by her father. Even if she's in everyday clothing, I think she makes a beautiful bride.
The pastor, Julian Aires, says a few words about what we can expect from the ceremony. It's old hat to me. I've been through this same speech, or at least a similar one, fourteen times before. Then we're doing the recessional again and finally going back out to the cars. Jim appears at my side and gives me an arm to steady myself while I put my shoes back on.
"Jim?" Lois says as she approaches us.
":Hey, Lois. You're husband was just helping me get my shoes back on. I guess I'm wearing flats tomorrow."
"Lucky…do I know you?"
"I'm Kate's sister, Liadan," I say with special emphasis.
"You're…oh…you look good, Liadan."
"Thank you," I say with a little smile.
"See you at the dinner, Liadan," Jim says, taking his wife's arm.
I watch them go off and I feel a little sad. It's a sort of wistful sadness, knowing that is what I want; someone who will love me for me, flaws and all. Jim and Lois have been married for eleven years.
We're eating at a local steak house, and I drive over there quickly, but not too far over the speed limit. I'm the middle over all and the woman at the front desk escorts me back to the room that they've hired out for the evening.
"What's that doing here?" I hear a voice behind me say.
"I love you too, Jeff.""
"Jeff, you're only here because you're family. Liadan is in the bridal party. If you want to stay, you will be civil," Amy says to him.
"But?"
"Yes, you are a butt."
He gets an angry look on his face and glares at me.
"Amy, thanks for the assist, but I can handle my own little brother." I sashay over to him and put my finger under his chin.
"Jeff? I'm going to say this once, pay attention; Through no fault of my own, I am now a girl. It's permanent. As a girl I am entitled to wear dresses, date boys, and even get married, to a boy. I'm capable of having children, with a boy. So, I'll not be responding to comments like 'thing' 'it' or 'freak' bandied in my direction. Do I make myself clear?"
He just nods at me and goes and finds a seat.
"That was awesome," Kate says coming up to stand next to me. I give her a hug.
"I've been wanting to put him in his place for years," Amy says.
"You're okay, Liadan," Fiona says.
Fiona's statement is as good as I could accept from her. She is my dad's sister's kid so she has the same types of bigoted ideas as many in my family do. My mom's family is a lot more open minded. I walk arm in arm with Amy and Kate over to the girl's side of the table.
I don't know how it works for anyone else out there, but my family tended to segregate the girls and the boys at the rehearsal dinner. The bride and groom get the opportunity to sit at opposite ends of the table. It's as close to a Shivaree as we get in our family. Yeah, I know, it's a really old tradition, but we are a, mostly, traditional family.
The night before, starting at the rehearsal, we keep the bride and groom apart until the ceremony itself. One of my cousins had their ceremony at six in the evening. That was almost fun keeping them apart, especially since they played along and did their best to get together.
So, I sit at the table through the toasts and the friendship and the gifts.
"We got all of the bridesmaids a pair of earrings…if any of you…"
"Paul, shut up before you say something stupid," I say with a smile.
"Yeah, sweetie, I'm sure Liadan will love the earrings, even though they were originally meant for Jenny."
I open the small box and smile. They are a pair of hearts in Amy's colors. They're obviously meant to go with the pixie dress tomorrow, so I'm happy to wear them. Seeing my dad's look I quickly remove my current earrings and put the new ones in.
Kate sees what I'm doing, and who I'm looking at, and joins in with me. Soon, one by one, each of the bridesmaids put in the new earrings and looks over at my father where he is sitting. He just throws his hands up in exasperation and walks out.
I smile at my mom who gives me a little grin.
"Sorry about my husband," my mom says, "he's still getting used to the idea of having two daughters."
"That's fine, Miranda," her father says, "He'll just have to suck it up. I was worried that Amy would be the last of my granddaughters to get married. I'd always hoped that one of them would choose for me to give them away. If he's going to be an ass about it, then I'll get the opportunity to give Liadan away at her wedding."
I smile at my grandpa. Apparently his wife told him everything before she died, something I should have realized before this. He smiles back at me and gives me a little wink.
"I'm sorry if my drama took away from Amy's time, but it is her time. So, can we get back to it?"
"Thank you, Liadan…that name is such a mouthful. Don't you have a nickname yet?"
"Angela calls her Li, but she complains that it's a boy's name."
"Well…I say almost absently. It is spelled Leah — Dan…so I would be fine with Leah."
Jim pipes up from his end of the table, "great. I was wondering how long I'd be able to handle saying the whole thing, Leah."
The night gets back to normal after that with the exception of everyone now calling me Leah. They give out more gifts to the family, then the groomsmen give a gift to Amy to be opened on her wedding night.
Having been on that side of the table, I snicker a little, joined quickly by my married female cousins. We all know what's in the box. Amy looks clueless, as did all of my other female cousins on the night before their wedding. From the knowing glances of the other women, I can tell they enjoyed their gift. Sure, the guys meant it as a prank, but from the other side of the fence I realize that women…well…I don't need to go any further in that direction.
My aunts, including my mother's sister, give me hugs on the way out the door. I seem to be getting as much attention as Amy, something I'm embarrassed about.
"I'm sorry that I seem to have upstaged your night a little bit."
"Don't worry about it, Leah. My night is tomorrow. Coming here in that dress just allowed everyone to get to know you, and your peculiar sense of style."
"What's wrong with my sense of style."
"Nothing…if you like the color blue."
"I love the color blue. In fact, I've just decided that my bridesmaid dresses are all going to be blue. Blue is going to be one of my wedding colors. You know it represents loyalty, don't you."
"When are you getting married?"
I look into my purse and pull out my ring. "Whenever I can apologize to my fiancée," I say with a small smile.
"Put it on," I hear Kate say from behind me, "him seeing the ring on you will go a long way to apologizing."
"Especially since I threw it at him the last time I saw him," I say sadly.
"Why did you do that?" Fiona says coming up to us,
"Because I have hang-ups and issues," I look around at the women around me. They're my family, and for the first time I realize that every one of them accepts me as I am. If I'd known it could be like this I would have joined their ranks long ago.
"Can we go somewhere else to talk about this? I feel kind of uncomfortable talking about it here."
"Sure, and I nominate your apartment, Leah. You have your jammies, girls?" Fiona says.
"Jammies?" I'm confused as to what sleepwear has to do with anything.
"We always have a sleepover the night before the wedding. That's part of the reason Janie had a six pm ceremony."
"Guilty," Janie says.
We all laugh and link arms to go out to our cars. We convoy it over to my apartment and they begin to gather their supplies and move in after me. I see an impressive array of sleeping bags and blankets come in with them.
I sit on my couch waiting for the rest to come in and I see the surprise on their faces. This is the first time really any of them have seen my apartment. Kate's the only exception.
I see it new in their eyes. It is a masculine apartment, but there is a definite feminine touch to it. It have beautiful drapes and curtains on the windows. I have a multitude of throw pillows on the couch. The smell I always associated with Kate's and Angela's apartment in college has begun to permeate my house. It's that mixture of makeup, talcum powder, and hair products that seem to scream female more than any simple decoration. I have black and white photos on the walls of trees and mountains.
"Did you decorate this?" Janie says a little awed.
"Yes. I needed a space I could feel comfortable…although the couch has got to go. I've had my eye on another one for ages."
"Let me guess," Amy says as she picks up a number of my throw pillows. They don't really match my leather couch, but they perfectly match the sofa I've always wanted to have here.
I nod with a smile.
We all get ready for bed. I slip into some silk pajamas and my kimono.
"So, now that we're at your home, dish. Tell us what's going on."
I look at the concerned faces all around me and can't help it. I break down in tears and begin my story.
"When I was a teenager, I was raped."
Liadan Allenwood lives in a universe that has almost limitless possibilities, much like our own. One thing her Universe has that ours does not is the
I bring them up for a news article that was published after the events of Always a Groomsman, Never a Bride. Well, I'll let the article speak for itself.
The Recall that Saved a Company
By Chris Forth
In the months following the almost criminal acts of Suzerain Pharmaceutical, a division of Dharma Corp, a couple of things are abundantly clear: people want their products more now than they did before, and you can't buy this type of advertising.
It started out as a bit to provide a little harmless fun for frat boys, and some balm for the weary in the transgender community. They produced the now infamous Femin-U potion. It hit shelves at two in the morning on a Friday. The commercials, print ads, and internet banners went out the night before. It became a meme almost instantly. This was a product that writers of TG Fiction have speculated on for years, even before nanotechnology became a reality.
The initial shipment of potions flew off the shelves and within forty-eight hours the entire 100,000 bottles had been sold. If, as some have claimed, the entire batch had been the more potent GK909 we would likely have seen a horrific death toll. As it was the deaths of over a thousand people in two days from a single cause is bordering on catastrophic.
It is estimated that more than 60% of people who ingested the viral compound died as their bodies consumed themselves trying to provide energy for the transformation it called for. This number remains an estimate as many of the girls who survived are likely hiding in plain sight, unwilling to become yet one more of the "Femin-U Babes" that seem all too common on the talk show circuit right now.
This is only half the story, the half everyone knows about.
Dharma Corp was within six months of declaring bankruptcy at the release of Femin-U. They'd sunk all the money they had into the production of GK909. Femin-U was the closest they believed that they'd come to a workable, permanent gender alteration solution. They were pursuing human trials of GK909, but the FDA declared their initial animal testing to be too unsafe. Here is the reason: GK909 was designed for humans, and only really works for humans.
As of the time of this printing, they still haven't come clean about how many bottles of GK909 were shipped with Femin-U labels. They haven't even explained how GK909 was shipped at all. They're recall of the product on Saturday night was too late, however, as none of the product remained to be recalled. The fact that they recalled it before anyone was really aware there was a problem is telling about what likely happened in the company to cause this so called 'mistake.'
However, it did something even better than the publicity they needed. It proved that the GK909 serum worked in 100% of cases. The corpses that remained of the people who died where not only feminine looking, but were female down to their chromosomes. It also gave them what they needed to help make the application of the compound safe.
It would take two doses of two different compounds over a three week period and people would be safely, permanently changed. The first was a nanotech potion that helped the user to gain weight without really even trying. The second was GK909. Being a cheaper alternative to the traditional Gender Reassignment Surgery would have ensured its place in medical practice by itself. The fact that it was a better solution only went to seal the deal.
As of this printing almost nine hundred people have used the combination of potions to completely change from male to female with more than five thousand on waiting lists for more of the potions to be made and delivered to the medical professionals who are allowed to administer them.
It is a bright future for Suzerain and Dharma, one that will be carried on the shoulders of GK909.