Becoming Zandra - Part 4

ALL STORY LIST | OTHER PARTS

Downstairs Zandie. It’s a good thing you came to us.’ I added my choice of Chinese food to the list. When we all assembled downstairs, I found an atmosphere. Jacquie was tearful, and Sue quietly sitting watching an early evening TV program. Gemma went to Jacquie. ‘I’m sorry Jay, she’s OK with it. I know how impulsive you are and I thought, No, really I was not thinking.

Zandie says she is strong enough to make up her own mind, and from our friendship at school, I know she is.’ ‘I’m actually here and you know, I am not really a ‘she’.’ I said. It was disconcerting to hear myself referred to as a girl. I mean I didn’t really object, in fact, I liked it, but it was so strange, they had already changed my sex. ‘The hard truth is that I am a boy and only dressed as a girl. I am dressed like this for a purpose, to make some money to pay the rent. I am really Alexander Gregson girls.’ ‘Oh yes, that is so obvious, of course, you are.

Look how you are dressed, just as Alexander has dressed for the last eighteen years, since he came out of baby grows.’ I blushed. The sarcasm from Gemma quite hurt. Sue looked up from her TV program. ‘Look, whoever you are or want to be, I am the neutral one here. You are Gemma’s old friend. Jacquie has sort of taken you in hand as her project and if I may say, has done a terrific job converting you from, I don’t know, what Gemma told us was a boy on the verge of a nervous breakdown into a pretty girl. I didn’t see you before she got her hands on you, but I hear you looked terrible.

Now, look. When we came in from work last evening we found not Alexander but Zandra, pretty, in a mini, cooking tea. You spent the evening in the role and then today you walk in here looking even more girlie if possible, in a completely new outfit, right down to your black patent three-inch heels. Fucking boy? As far as I am concerned tomorrow, you can come in wearing jeans and a baseball cap, in Doc Martens and you will still be Zandra to me.

I can’t keep changing names and pronouns according to what you feel like wearing. So shut the fuck up Zandra and suck it up.’ She turned back to her TV program and turned up the volume. ‘I think that has told me. I’m sorry, call me whatever. What does it matter?’ ‘Are you staying dressed in your working gear? I think you should go and change. Come down again soon, wear whatever you want to Zandie. I have a feeling, and Jacquie is convinced, you would rather be Zandra than Alexander. It doesn’t matter, honest. You look better as a girl with some makeup than the pasty-faced boy you were when I saw you six weeks ago at your parent's funeral.’ I turned and left the room feeling as though I had somehow lost some of myself.

One thing was sure, I should not sit about in my work clothes all evening. I took off my blouse and hung it in the tallboy, the skirt too, using the little side loops to suspend it from the hanger. I stowed all the other new clothes in the tall boy. I smiled as I did so. I owned all these girl clothes. I caressed the little blouses, size twelve I saw. Well, that was handy to know and I looked at the skirt labels, also size twelve. Shoes six and a half.

I picked up the skinny jeans, and caught sight of myself in the mirror, standing in panties and tights, and a bra. I giggled. I put the skinnies on a hanger too and picked up the mini skirt and the top Jacquie had lent me and put them on. I checked my face in the mirror. I picked up my handbag, my new handbag, my only handbag, and found shadow and mascara.

I used more eye shadow, and dark grey and applied another two coats of mascara. I used the brighter of the two lipsticks, the one Jay had told me was better for evenings. I turned in front of the mirror and made sure I was altogether. I took a deep breath and opened the bedroom door and went down to the living room.

No one said anything. It was as if I was just one of the housemates. Surprisingly, it was Sue who patted the settee beside her, having forsaken her armchair for once, inviting me to sit with her. I did so. I was biting the inside of my cheek to maintain control. I knew that coming down like this, as Zandra I was making a definitive statement.

Jacquie said, ‘We better go and get the food Sue. Do you want to come Zandie?’ ‘This girl is staying in,’ I said. Sue took my hand and shook it. Jacquie standing behind me ruffled my hair and kissed the top of my head. ‘You better run a comb through your hair again now,’ she laughed. Gemma sitting in the other armchair came over and sat beside me.

She took my hand and caressed the back with her thumb. “Looks like all the girls are home on a Saturday night then.’ Sue and Jay departed. ‘Let’s get things ready for when they return.” ‘Yes,’ I said. We put plates to warm and laid the table up with all the sauces and cutlery we thought we would need. ‘You are all right with me like this?’ ‘Yes of course, if it makes you happy. I should have seen how you are long ago.

I don’t know how I missed it. I suppose we were so close I only saw what I expected to see.’ ‘And we will have a nice meal and you are OK with Jacquie.’ ‘Yes of course,’ said Gemma. ‘Thank you, Gem. I am so lucky to have you as a friend.’ ‘No wonder you had a breakdown with this going on too. And after dinner, I am stripping Zandra’s hair, arms and legs, and anywhere else.’ It was going to be a merry evening.

After dinner, a very hot chicken Szechuan and Singapore fried noodles inside me, my three housemates set about my body. Sue settled for giving me a manicure while Gemma and Jay used hot wax on my legs, taking one each They worked up from the ankle applying the wax and stripping it off in one quick pull. It hurt, but not that much. It became embarrassing when they reached my groin.

They asked me to tuck tissues into my knicker legs and brought the wax right up to my nether regions. I closed my eyes and pretended that what so obviously resided in my panties, was not there. I had to spread my legs so they could do the inside of the thigh, then the bikini line. It was the most embarrassing moment of my life. I was then turned and they did the backs. By that time Sue was working on my other hand. When my legs were done they did my arms and the back of my hands, up to just above my elbows.

By this time I had neat nails, nicely rounded, and to my surprise, finished in black and shiny nail varnish. That really turned me on and I was relieved to be prone on the bed, my penis safely out of view, squashed so it could not fill with blood. Damn thing. I was half-turned so they could do each underarm. They hadn’t finished. They had a conference and decided that a bit of my face also needed attention, behind my ears and the sideburn area which was only bum fluff. ‘All done.’ Gemma said, at last, brightly. ‘I’ll get you a robe to put on then we can go down and watch TV together.’ I waited while they departed.

I had lain there still wearing the new bra and pants. I suddenly felt embarrassed, but it was a nice feeling. They were treating me exactly as if I was a girl. A week ago I was feeling desperate as though the climb out of the pit of despair was like crawling uphill in mud. A week ago I was cross-dressing in the woods, feeling like a ruddy pervert, hating myself, and punishing myself for it afterward. Now I lay in recovery, in bra and pants, feeling elated, excited by what was happening to me and what I would have to do tomorrow, getting into my working gear and spending the evening as a waitress.

The door opened and Gemma entered with a robe. She threw it over me and as I sat up put one arm and then the other in the sleeves. It was the palest blue and silky. ‘Are you OK?’ she asked tenderly. ‘Mmm. Thank you. Do you think I am mad?’ ‘No. Why do you say that? I do want you to be honest though. You are putting up token resistance to feminization. Have you dreamt of this happening to you?’ I tried not to look at her, but she used a finger under my chin to raise my eyes to hers. ‘Do I take that as a yes?’ I nodded. ‘Often?’ ‘Quite a lot. Well, always.’ ‘All the time we were at school?’ ‘Always, from when I was tiny.’ ‘But you have never done anything about it?’ ‘No. I mean dad, he would have had a fit. Perhaps that would have been a good thing.’

‘And did your mum not know. I mean she never said anything to me when we used to study together.’ ‘No, I never told her. I used to play in her cast-offs as a kid, miles too big of course, then dad put his foot down. I longed for more girly clothes and, things even envied the pencil case you used. I do wear girl’s underwear. I self-harm.’ ‘I never realized, that is why this has all been something of a shock and I blamed Jacquie for turning you, but it has always been there hasn’t it?’ ‘Yes, Gem. That is one reason I valued our friendship so much.

It was as though being with another girl, some of you could rub off on me, and a little of your femininity could enter my soul. At the same time, it was quite frustrating. I wanted to be you, have your clothes and hair and adornments.’ ‘That is a bit of a relief, knowing it is not us that have turned you. OK, so no more pretense.

I take it that when you are in the house, you will be Zandra.’ ‘I would like that.’ ‘And working too. That leaves college. I suggest you adopt an androgynous style, jeans are fine, the skinnier the better, and tops which are female but bordering on masculine. We will try some different hairstyles. It’s a good thing you have kept it long. So, Zandra, we know where we are. You need to thank Jacquie for bringing you out. She is a super girl isn’t she?’ I nodded. ‘She is, you all are. Sue is very direct but truthful.’ ‘Sue always calls a spade a spade.

I think we are going to like having Zandra here. It is going to be fun. Now we had a council when you were up here changing. We think you need some medical backup if you are serious, and before you admitted it, we thought you were anyway. As a start, you should make an appointment with the University Psychiatrists and Councillors section.

They are there to help any student who has problems and no, doesn’t say no, you obviously have an identity problem. You are doing this job. If they challenge your gender, you then have a defense, that you are gender non-specific or gender dysphoric and receiving treatment.’ ‘OK if that helps me stay within the law.’ ‘I think it will, and you do need help. I don’t mean to change you but to help you achieve whatever you want to be.

What I demand from you is that at least with us, you are totally honest, tell us what you feel, what you want.’ ‘Yes, I promise. Everything is happening so fast. Three days ago I was a moping, grieving, nineteen-year-old boy. Now I am an honorary girl, eager to get on with my life.’ ‘I am really pleased to hear that. It is a relief that we now know the real you. So come down and watch a film. Tomorrow we are devoting ourselves to further feminizing you.’ We watched a girlie film. I had never been into violent films, the worst I would watch, and I liked, were Indiana Jones. We watched ‘Working Girl, one of their favorites.

It was a beautiful evening. As we went to bed, Jay said. ‘We need to do more shopping, then, because you now need non-work clothes and some college gear that is more femme. No, it’s fine, I have the money, well it goes on the Visa which daddy pays, and he never queries it. We will have another shop, oh and as soon as you finish in college Monday, I am meeting you for a surprise. So shall we say Costa at four o’clock? And don’t be late.’

Sunday morning. I was up first and I was to find this was the usual pattern. I showered and dressed, bra and knickers. I felt my smooth legs and arms. I looked in the mirror and felt my chin. I was OK. I really would have to do something about that. I made my face, I thought not too bad. Then I looked more closely. I washed it off and started again. My hand shook as I used eyeliner. I stopped and tried again and this time my eyelid would not stop moving.

I took deep breaths and tried to relax. I used the handle of the brush to practice moving something across my eyelid until I could do so without my lid fluttering or my hand shaking. I used the foundation dear Jacquie had selected. At length I had my brows done to my satisfaction. I managed to do my eyeliner. Mascara was easier. I used pale pink lipstick. I surveyed the result.

It was much better. I looked OK, I did my hair, pulling it over to one side and fastening it with a clip Jay had used on me that first night before she did the plait. I dressed in skinnies and one of my new blouses and added my work shoes. I had to get used to them and they had to get used to me before tonight. I would be on my feet for four and a half hours, well at least five because I had to walk there and back. I was downstairs when Sue appeared. I had expected Jay or Gemma. ‘Hi, Zandie. Up early again. You look nice. Have you had breakfast?’ ‘No, not yet. What are you having?’ ‘Oh coffee and toast.

There’s some of mum’s marmalade too. Join me?’ ‘Mm sounds lovely.’ I put the coffee machine on, topping up the water. Sue made the toast and I set the table. Gemma and Jacquie arrived. The kitchen was a bustle of activity until we were all sat and eating. When we finished it was time for lessons. There are so many things girls, because of their anatomy and dress, do differently. They began with sitting and moved on to standing, pulling my torso into shape, shoulders back stomach in, hip tucked under. We moved to a stationary stance, the weight on one leg and a hip thrust to the side, still keeping the upper body erect.

Sue showed me how to put all my weight on one leg the other foot resting lightly on the toe, so lightly that the toe was not damaged. I had to walk up and down the hall with a book on my head, chin up, proud, looking down my nose rather than through my brows. My hands had to be neat, thumbs tucked under which makes a hand look slimmer and clasped over my stomach or behind my back. They made me practice each moving time and again laughing when I got it wrong and congratulating me when I got it right.

At twelve we moved to speech and I had an hour’s speech therapy until I managed to maintain a fairly feminine tone. It was far from perfect, but they said, I had to stop feeling self-conscious, relax and Jacquie said, ‘Act out of your skin. Don’t be a blockhead, forget about Alex, you are not him and never have been, you are Zandra.’ I started to get it. I had to leave all my inhibitions behind and think about Zandra. Tea was produced with some chocolate biscuits.

It was one thirty. ‘Now we are all going to the Mall, shopping for Zandra, a complete set of clothes, chosen by us, paid for by my dad, but you will do the buying. Speaking to the shop girls will be good practice. I will change the pin on my card to something easy for you to remember and then change it back after. Let’s go girls. Oh, and change out of those skinnies, not good for trying things on. So there is a lot on the list, three pairs of shoes, some girlie pumps, another six pairs of knickers and some black and white chemises.

Three skirts, some girlie trousers, a couple of jumpers and three tops, a couple of cheapo bracelets, but nice, and maybe a necklace.’ ‘That will cost a mint. I will never be able to repay that.’ ‘Daddy says his treat.’ She smiled as we entered the Mall. She went to the cash point and changed the pin. ‘OK, here you are Zandra. The number for this afternoon is 1289. ‘Right Primark first for nightie and PJs.’ We moved from shop to shop, all three thrusting clothes into my basket and taking it turns to take me to the changing rooms, inspecting me with a critical eye. The store bags multiplied.

There were a few extras, a makeup bag, a hat, a hairbrush and a comb set, some conditioner for my hair, a scarf, and cheap jewelry, cheap but pretty and good for a late teen girl. These three knew so much about clothes and quality they could more or less tell at a glance, discarding things with a scowl. Most of my suggestions fell short or were totally ignored. I did get to choose my shoes. A pair with four-inch stilettos and a T bar, some patent flats, and some little slippery pumps, flat and flexible in a blue flower pattern. ‘Nice,’ Sue said and I swelled with pride.

They added a pack of black tights and some ten and fifteen denier non-run ones. Finally, we were done. I had gone to the counter each time and paid, practicing my female voice while one or the other stood by my side and gave a critique afterward. ‘Right quick teacake and tea.’ Gemma said and led us into my place of work. I started to turn red. We entered shopping bags thrust before us, giggling and Jay poking me in the back with a finger.

The place was half full and we found a table by the window. Guiseppe came to the door of his office to see what the commotion was. He looked straight at me and nodded. After tea, we left. We had gone a few yards when Jay said she had forgotten something and returned to the café. We wandered towards home taking side streets that were a shortcut. Jacquie caught us up. When we reached home they all helped in removing labels and tags and helped put everything away.

They laid out my outfit for the evening and to my surprise started pulling out my Alex gear, inspecting it, and dropping some in a pile. On the pile went all my man pants and man socks, a tie, a shirt, and a pair of jeans with no shape, and they were put in a plastic bag for the charity shop. These girls were just out of control. So was I.