Switch Mitchell’s - Chapter 3

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“Please, Dad, I mean, Daddy, please, no stop!” he called out. “These are going to be great,” his father said as he finally lowered the camera. Looking at his ‘daughter’, the man became overwhelmed with emotion and hugged her. “Thanks, uh, Daddy,” said Mitchell, trying to gently break free. Mitchell’s father looked at him, then kissed him softly on the cheek. “You’re just so beautiful, Kitten.” Mitchell stared back, horrified. “Okay, now, I’m ready to go.” Mitchell disentangled himself from his father and ran down the stairs to the front door. His mother was waiting for him. “Good luck, sweety. Here’s your purse.

You’re going to be great!” “Thanks, Mom,” said Mitchell as he grabbed the purse and ran out the door. Once out the front door, Mitchell lost his nerve again. Staring at the headlights of the car, his ride, he realized he had no idea who was inside, where they were going, or what they had planned for him. Mitchell stood where he was, petrified. “Michelle,” he heard his father call.

Mitchell instinctively turned to his father’s voice, only to receive another flash from his father’s camera. Mitchell turned back to the waiting car and ran to it. The back door opened, and he jumped in. “She’s quite something, our little girl,” said Mr. Everett as he put his arm around his wife on their front porch. “Uh hmm,” hummed Mrs. Everett in agreement. “How did your pictures turn out?”

“Let’s go inside and take a look,” he replied. The couple walked back into the house and closed the door behind them. Mitchell was grabbed by more hands than he could count and pulled into the car. Before he could get himself oriented, he was thrown across the back seat and the car raced out of the driveway.

The back seat was filled with bodies, and in the darkness, he couldn’t make out a single face. Then someone screamed. “Aee!” screamed Nadia as she hugged Mitchell tight. She laughed as she said, “Mi chelle, you made it! That was so cool!” As Mitchell’s eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, he realized that he was lying across the laps of three girls in the back seat, and Michelle’s friend Nadia was hugging him. Two more girls were in the front. “Nadia?” he said. “Nadia, I’ve got to” “Oh no!” laughed Nadia. “You’re wearing your cheerleader uniform!

Oh my gosh, that is too funny!” All the girls were laughing, and all talking at once. As the car swerved and bounced, Mitchell found he needed to hold onto Nadia for support. “My mother said I was supposed to. Look, can you tell me…” This started all the girls laughing again. “Of course! Miss Wilson expects all the girls to be in uniform tonight!” All five girls were laughing and talking so that Mitchell could hardly think. “Nadia, where is Miss Wilson?” he asked. Nadia was quiet for a moment. “Where is who?” she asked.

“Miss Wilson,” said Mitchell. “I need to speak with her, about tonight.” “Michelle,” said Nadia. “What are you talking about?” “I thought you knew,” said Mitchell in confusion. “There’s a presentation for Mrs. Wally tonight. Miss Wilson is organizing it. Isn’t that where you’re going?” All the girls were quiet by this time, listening to the confusing conversation. “Michelle, what’s wrong with you? There is no Miss Wilson or Mrs. Wally.

You and I made them up!” Mitchell was beyond confusion. “What?” was the only question he could think to ask. “You seriously don’t remember?” asked Nadia. “Last month, after you were grounded, we were at school the next day? You said that next time you were grounded, we should come up with a scheme to get you out? I said we could tell your parents you were supposed to give a speech at some charity dinner?

Then we made up Miss Wilson and Mrs. Wally? You remember, right?” “It’s all a scam?” asked Mitchell. “I made up the part about her husband and children,” said one of the girls he was sitting on. “Oh, Michelle, this is Julie, do you two know each other?” “Hey, I’ve seen you around the school,” said Mitchell. “Yeah, me too,” replied Julie. “Julie played the part of Miss Wilson in tonight’s production,” Mitchell was told. “You seriously don’t remember setting this all up?” asked Nadia. Mitchell couldn’t believe it. His sister had more scams going than he could count. Scams within scams. Scams running on autopilot, with no need of her assistance.

So many scams she apparently couldn’t keep them all straight and ended up running two in one night. All the girls were quiet as they waited for an answer. This was likely the best chance he would ever get to tell the truth. Instead, Mitchell eventually said, “Of course, I remember! I was just,  teasing.” The girls all laughed with relief, and the car drove on into the night with multiple conversations vibrating throughout.

After about twenty minutes of nonstop female chatter, Mitchell was becoming seriously worried about where these girls were taking him. “So Nadia,” he began hesitantly, “like, um, just where is it that we’re going?” “You haven’t guessed yet?” laughed Nadia. “Well, it’s just that we’ve been driving a long time,” said Mitchell. Nadia laughed again. “I hope you’re teasing again. We talked about this just last week, remember?”

Before Mitchell could answer, the girl in the front passenger seat shrieked, and turning to the back seat yelled, “Look, we’re here!” Mitchell couldn’t see anything from his current position, but he could hear and feel the bass rhythm of loud music. The car pulled over to the side of the road and stopped. One of the girls rolled down a window, and someone stuck his head in. “Hello, ladies,” he said. “I hope you’re planning to join us this evening.

My name is Kevin, and I’m here to help you in any way I can.” “Thanks, Kevin,” said the driver. “I’m Clarissa. Maybe you can point us to a parking spot!”

“I can do better than that,” said Kevin as he opened the back door. “Squeeze over, ladies, and I’ll take you there.” As Kevin tried to get into the already overstuffed car, the girls all squealed and laughed, hurting Mitchell’s ears. Mitchell tried desperately to move out of Kevin’s way. “I don’t think that’s going to work!” laughed Clarissa. “Why doesn’t everyone get out here, then Kevin can come with me to park the car.” Kevin began unloading girls from the car, one after another. Mitchell found himself swept up in the current, poured out of the car with the others, and finally landed on his feet on the sidewalk.

Mitchell was part of a huge assemblage of skirts, hair, red lips, and giggling voices. Kevin climbed into the passenger seat, then Mitchell watched as his only means of transportation out of there drove down the street and around the corner. Mitchell turned to find the source of the booming music. It wasn’t difficult to locate. The girls were standing on the sidewalk, in front of a large Victorian-style home.

Every light was on, and there were people everywhere, including the roof. The booming music vibrated through the air so that the house seemed to pulse with the beat. Then Mitchell noticed the sign over the front door.

It read “DTS”, Delta Tau Sigma. “This is a frat party,” said Mitchell as realization dawned on him. “You brought me to a frat party, dressed like a cheerleader.” Mitchell was so shocked, that he hadn’t even realized that he was standing alone. The other girls had already walked up to the house without him. Julie looked back, and seeing him still standing at the curb, ran back to get him. “Come on!” yelled Julie as she grabbed his arm and started him moving toward the house. “You’re being so weird tonight!”

Mitchell couldn’t resist. He was in shock and simply followed Julie’s lead. When they reached the front porch, Mitchell found his voice and turned to Julie. “I can’t go in there like this,” he said. “This is a frat party, and I’m dressed like a high school cheerleader!” “I know!” giggled Julie. “Are you ever going to be popular!” “Ladies,” interrupted an enormous man.

He must have been six foot four, and at least 240 pounds. He wore a black T-shirt that read ‘Security,’ and when he crossed his arms over his chest, Mitchell couldn’t help noticing that the man’s arms were probably thicker than Mitchell’s waist. “Ah said, Ladies!” he boomed in a voice as big as he was, drawing Mitchell’s attention from the man’s enormous arms to his enormous face. “Ah need ta see you’ invitations, an’ some I.D.” Mitchell felt incredibly tiny, facing this giant.

He fumbled with his purse, and said in his tiny Michelle voice, “I.D.? I don’t think I brought it, um, the invitations are” The man broke into a huge grin as he placed one tree-trunk-like arm around each of the girls, leading them up the steps to the front door. “Ah’m jes’ messin’ wit’ cha. This is la dies’ night. In fact, several nights is ladies’ night!” The man laughed so hard at his own joke, he temporarily blotted out the music.

He led Mitchell and Julie into the house, then called out, “Somebody get these two fine ladies some beer!” Then he went back to the front porch, closing the door behind him. Mitchell was immediately swept toward a bar that had been set up in the front room, and a beer was shoved into his hands. This was the first good thing that had happened all night! Mitchell lifted the beer and drained half of it before coming up for air.

Mitchell was immediately startled to hear an enormous cheer. Looking up, he found himself surrounded by huge men, so huge they probably referred to the security guy as ‘Tiny’. They were all looking at him, and howling like cavemen. Then they began chanting: “Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug!” Mitchell looked back at his remaining half beer. Realizing what he had to do, he raised the glass and drained it. He couldn’t help letting out a rather large belch. Mitchell laughed and took another sip of his beer.

He was sitting on a couch in one of the back rooms, rather cramped with three of this place’s seemingly infinite supply of gargantuan males crammed around him. It had been more than a little disturbing to be dressed as a tiny girl, surrounded by walls of muscle when he first arrived. But after a few beers, he figured out what he had to do. The guys in this place weren’t so bad. They were really like children enormous, muscular, drunken children, but still children.

And although Mitchell in his ultra-mini skirt was certainly a great distraction, all he needed to do was find other distractions to throw at them. The two that had helped him get to this point were beer and football. Mitchell’s initial appearance, and demonstration of his beer-drinking ability, had initiated a drinking competition.

The local Neanderthals quickly outpaced Mitchell, but that was to be expected. No one really thought a little girl like him would actually win the competition. But he encouraged the others to continue, filling over an hour with some of the most outrageous moments Mitchell had ever witnessed. As every one of the guys tried to outdo the rest, Mitchell relaxed and started having a great time.

Once the drinking competitions ended, Mitchell found the conversation steered easily away from himself when he asked a few questions about football. The mountainous men seemed to be just as interested in football as they were in beer. They all had stories to tell, just as many taking place in the locker room as on the field. Some stories needed to be re-enacted, right there in the living room, not an easy feat considering how crowded the entire house was.

When the football was tossed through the window, they continued using a lamp instead. Yes, these guys were just like children. Children the size of freight trains, with little or no impulse control. But Mitchell’s initial fears were gone. Mitchell laughed at the current antics. “You know,” he said. “I wanted to be a football player at one time.” Everyone nearby who heard stopped for a moment, to figure out what it was Mitchell had said, then burst into laughter.

Everyone nearby who hadn’t heard laughed as well because it was that kind of party. “You, a football player!” howled one of the guys on the couch with him. He laughed and stomped his feet, kicking over his beer. “Well,” explained Mitchell. “I mean, I was a little kid. I didn’t know I’d grow up to be, you know, small.” All the guys laughed. “Did you know you would grow up to be a girl?” asked one, to the hilarious laughter of his buddies. “Well, no, I guess not,” said Mitchell to more laughter.

“What position did you want to play?” “She could be the ball!” answered another, lifting Mitchell off the couch, and tossing him to another. Mitchell was tossed around the room for a while, shrieking and laughing, as he was just drunk enough to think this was fun. “Please, guys, eeeek! Put me down!” Finally one of the guys spiked Mitchell back onto the couch, yelling “Touchdown!” Mitchell couldn’t stop laughing as he tried to catch his breath. “That’s not fair, guys! I wanted to win the Super Bowl! I told my Dad I’d give him my Super Bowl ring!”

One of the more medium-sized mammoth men spoke up. “I’ve got a Super Bowl ring.” Mitchell laughed. “Right, like I believe you won the Super Bowl!” “Really,” the guy persisted. “It’s not mine, it was my Dad’s. But it’s upstairs in my room.”

“Can I see it?” asked Mitchell, clearly impressed. “Hey, you can even try it on,” he was told. The behemoth reached down with one massive hand and lifted Mitchell to his feet. As he escorted Mitchell out of the back room, the rest of the herd began howling. Mitchell turned back to speak to the group, as he continued to be propelled forward. “We’ll be right back,” he said. “Yeah, in about three minutes,” snorted one, to the great amusement of his friends. The house was crammed tight with bodies, making it almost impossible to get through the hallways.

Certainly, Mitchell would have given up if he was on his own, but his escort seemed to have little trouble clearing a path. However, when they reached the stairs, Mitchell saw no way they could possibly get through. “There are too many people on the stairs,” he yelled over the music. “I don’t think we’ll make it up.” “You can use the elevator,” his guide replied.

Mitchell looked around. “Elevator? Where is” He never got a chance to finish his sentence, however, as the monster man picked him up like a child, carrying him toward the stairs and saying, “Here’s your elevator!” Mitchell wrapped his arms around the man’s neck, laughing as his legs swung back and forth. He is carried up the stairs, screaming and laughing, “No! Not again! Eeek, put me down!” Mitchell was carried up the stairs and down a narrow hallway, past hundreds (or so it seemed) of partygoers. His ride pushed open a door with his foot and carried Mitchell inside.

There was a couple lying on the bed, and another making out in a chair. Mitchell’s con conveyance yelled, “Hey! Get out,” and the room quickly emptied. Once the door was closed, he finally set Mitchell’s feet on the floor. With the door closed, the noise from the party was much less. Mitchell finally felt he could hold a real conversation. “This is your room?” he asked. “Uh huh,” grunted the Neanderthal. “So you must be, Jerome?” said Mitchell, reading the names of some of the trophies scattered throughout the room. “So, where is your Super Bowl ring?” “Jerry,” he was corrected. “The ring’s in here,” he was told as Jerry opened his top drawer. Reaching in, he pulled out a black velvet box.

He snapped back the lid so Mitchell could see the ring. “Wow,” said Mitchell, almost speechless at the sight. “May I?” he asked, reaching out. “Sure,” replied Jerry. “Try it on.” Mitchell took the ring from the box, mesmerized by all the football-shaped diamonds. He stuck two fingers of his left hand into it, and it was still loose. Mitchell laughed. “It’s so big, and heavy! I could almost wear it for a bracelet.” Mitchell admired the ring for a few minutes. Eventually, he took it off, placed it back into the box, and shut it in Jerry’s drawer.

Turning to Jerry he said, “Wow, thanks so much! That was” He never got a chance to finish his sentence, though, as he found himself pressed up against the wall. Jerry’s massive arms pinned him in place, as Jerry’s lips pressed firmly against Mitchell’s. Mitchell struggled in vain against the wall of muscle that held him tight. When Jerry finally came up for air Mitchell said, “Jerry, this isn’t what I” He never got to finish that sentence either, as Jerry returned for a second kiss.

His massive hands moved down to Mitchell’s waist, massaging his exposed skin as he quickly moved his hands up and under Mitchell’s cheerleader top. With Jerry’s hands occupied, Mitchell’s arms were released. He tried shoving Jerry away, with no luck. He found it similarly impossible to prevent the steady creep of Jerry’s hands ever upward. Placing his own hands on Jerry’s face, he managed to move it from his lips to his ear, far enough that he could speak. “Jerry, please, I don’t want to do this,” he managed to say, as Jerry continued licking his earlobe.

Jerry massaged Mitchell’s chest through his bra and whispered into his ear, “You want this as much as I do. You’re a cheerleader, I’m a football player. This is what you came here for.” Mitchell struggled helplessly, trying again to move the massive biceps. As one hand squeezed his chest and the other fumbled with his bra hook, Mitchell remembered something he had learned in Health class. “No, Jerry! No means No!” he said as sternly as he could.

He wished he could sound more convincing, but speaking in a little girl's voice did not make him sound at all confident. However, it had the intended effect, at least for a moment. Jerry pulled away from Mitchell, far enough that he could look into his face. Jerry appeared confused, like a puppy that doesn’t understand why he’s been scolded.

But this look soon turned to anger. “What do you mean, no!” he yelled angrily. “You think you can come into my room, tease me till I’m ready to burst, then just say no? Well, sweetheart, it doesn’t work that way.” Jerry kissed him again. Mitchell pounded uselessly against Jerry’s arms. Finally, in desperation, he slapped Jerry across the face. Jerry backed off, startled by the slap.

But then he became enraged. Grabbing the front of Mitchell’s cheerleader top in one massive fist, he swung Mitchell through the air, around, and onto the bed. Mitchell’s short skirt flipped up, exposing him. Jerry was about to go back for another kiss when a curious look crossed his face.