And When I Return Ch. 13

"Ladies and gentlemen, I want to explain Anna to you. First of all, Anna's male name is Jason and she's from Toronto. She's married to a wonderful lady. And no, she's not a gay transvestite; she's strongly heterosexual, to the point that if she did choose to have a sex change she would be a lesbian. I've had the joy of training her for the past two weeks and have grown to love and respect her a great deal. Feel free to ask anyone questions about her or to her, because I feel it's important for people to understand the transgender state, and not to condemn it just because it is incomprehensible to you. It's incomprehensible to them too, I assure you." She smiled and turned to Anna who nodded that yes, that was true.

"So, relax, have fun, drink lots, eat lots, and talk lots. And get the hell out of here before 11:00!" she said, laughing as she led everyone to the bar.

At first Anna was frozen in place, as if he was a statue on a pedestal, but he began to feel even more awkward simply because of that, so he went to the bar and poured some white Chardonnay and began to mingle. The women were wonderful, asking him all sorts of questions about the gown or the ear rings or the shoes, sometimes saying things like, "It does feel wonderful to dress up like that occasionally doesn't it?"

The men were more direct. "You look good." "Those boobs look real. Are they real? How do you do that?" "Do you have to wear women's underwear too?" But there were some classics later on as the alcohol took effect, like, "So, you're not gay but you like to wear women's clothes huh? Jeez, it must be hard to find a date, eh?"

But the ultimate classic was from an awkward but handsome young man, perhaps a financial type who said quite late in the evening, "So, you're heterosexual, attracted to women?" There were some slurred words. "So, when you're dressed like this... Those breasts look great by the way...uh, when you're dressed like this and when you look in the mirror, does it, I mean, do you turn yourself on when you see yourself or what? I mean, now that'd be awesome, wouldn't it?"

Before Anna could compose himself enough to answer, a young woman behind the man turned around quickly and said, "Ryan, I can't believe you said that! You're cut off baby. I'm so sorry Anna; he's obviously got his own set of problems." And she pulled him away, whispering angrily in his ear.

Periodically Anna sat on the sofa or various chairs around the room, but he could only last in sitting positions for a short period of time. The corset pushed into his upper thigh and up against his breasts when he sat, and the mermaid style of the gown forced his legs together to his knees and beyond. Despite the five inch heels, he preferred to walk about.

Going to the bathroom late in the evening proved to be difficult. It had never dawned on him when watching the Academy Awards that the beautiful women in their stunning gowns dreaded having to go pee. And for him it was even more difficult, for when he tried to bend over to lift his gown up to his waist, he couldn't breathe while doing so. And sitting on the toilet with mounds of lace and ruffle all about, it was extremely important that the pee entered the toilet and didn't spray or splash on the gown, the disadvantage of owning a penis. But once completed, he still got that thrill of looking at himself in the mirror, checking his makeup and adding a new layer of lipstick before rejoining the guests.

Fiona was busy making sure all the plates were replenished when empty, all the wine bottles replaced, and in addition to that she was taking pictures, both still and video. The mood was light, with ABBA and Queen and Bob Seger playing in the background.

The end of the party was an anticlimax, several actually, as it died with a whimper, not a bang, guests leaving sporadically over an hour's time, saying their good byes especially to Anna. Surprisingly Bertie was the last to leave.

She took Anna's hand in both of hers and said, "You're beautiful Anna. Don't let anyone tell you you're not." She paused and stared at Anna for a few moments, smiling and shaking her head, and then she added, "You know, my husband was a cross dresser. He was actually quite attractive as a woman and we had a great deal of fun with it. I miss her terribly. But she never, ever looked as good as you. Run with it Anna. Have fun with it."

Anna was shocked and touched, noting how Bertie had switched from masculine to feminine pronouns quickly and easily when talking about her late husband. "Thank-you Bertie. Thank-you so much. You've been so sweet to me and I love you for that. I'm so sorry that your husband passed away."

"Yes, well, time moves on doesn't it? That's why you shouldn't waste any of yours. Good bye sweetie." They hugged briefly and she was gone.

Fiona, Diane and Anna were left looking at each other at the door, breathing heavy sighs of stress relief, as many hosts do after the departure of guests. The cleanup took about an hour, but Anna was excused from that due to the impractical nature of the cumbersome attire. He sat guiltily at the kitchen table struggling to stay high in the moment and to keep tomorrow's shadow from encroaching. He continued to drink Chardonnay, spinning the wine glass slowly around on the table and staring at the lipstick stain on the rim. He had gotten used to that, to the point that those feminine details were commonplace and not noticed. Now he began to notice again.

He held his hands out, palms down and looked at his hands with the long painted fingernails and then he lifted his dress and saw his painted toenails at the end of his shoes. He suddenly wanted to drink it all in, savor it, so the sensitivity returned.

The satin layers of the gown swished against his shaved legs in their stockings when he adjusted his seated position. He felt the anal plug shift; he had forgotten it was there. The corset continued to embrace him like a muscular hug from the top of his thighs to the base of his breasts. He placed his hands gently on each breast and felt his body warmth through them as he moved them. His hands moved to his face and explored his eyebrows sculpted now with that narrow feminine arch. Then he smiled as he remembered his new sun tan, a most peculiar one for a man.

Then a dark mood approached. These physical changes would only be explainable to Jenna with the truth. He had lied to her; in effect cheated on her, all for his selfish addiction to this, this façade of fantasy. And what was worse than the physical changes, something had altered within him, a realization that the status quo was not okay, was not good enough. He had a feminine side that had to be expressed. All his life he had fought against that, and now he lay defeated before her, before Anna. She had won.

"Excuse me ma'am," Anna said as he abruptly left the kitchen and went to his room.

Fiona and Diane looked at each other with concern and immediately followed him. When they entered his room, he was simply standing in the middle of the room staring at himself in the mirror moving his hands over his hips, waist, and breasts.

"I don't want this to end," he said, "How can I go back to that endless craving I had before?"

Diane went to him and embraced him saying, "I already talked you through that sweetie. You're in control here, not me, not Fiona, not Jenna; you are. You do what you feel you have to do. Sure, there are consequences for everything, but don't get to old age and look back saying that you should have done something else. Maybe you have to be Jason and try to abandon all your fetishes. Maybe you have to be Jason and just have a stress relief valve called Anna that you can visit when needed. Or maybe you have to be Anna all the time, in whatever form that may be. I don't know these things and neither do you right now. But I do know that you have friends here, right here, looking at you right now. The rest is completely up to you."

"Why do I have to be like this? I just want to wear these clothes. Why does that have to be so complicated?"

"I know sweetie, I know. It's okay. You know you can cry if you want."

"In my world," he stated sadly, "Men don't cry. That's the way I was brought up. Only women cry."

Diane hugged him close and reassured him, "Forget your gender, you can cry if you want to."

But he couldn't. It just did not come.

Diane and Fiona kissed him good night and said they would meet him for his transition back to Jason in the morning and that he could sleep in. When they left, Anna laid down fully clothed on the bed and turned out the light.

Then the tears came. Maybe it was Anna's persona, or maybe that's when all males shed their tears, at night, alone. Either way, it was like a breaking dam, and although he made no sound, his eyes simply filled up and wept freely like a deep brook. It didn't last long however, as practicality took over. Within minutes he got up and dabbed away the tears and renewed his makeup which had been disturbed. Anna didn't want the dress ruined.

He looked at himself in the mirror and closed his eyes, opening them again quickly. Anna was still there. Those tears had been a lapse. He forced a smile, and in doing so, it gave him strength to really feel the smile. He had known what was coming for days, and he had made plans as to what needed to be done; now he just had to be a man and face it.

And that made him snicker. He went back to bed and fell asleep, dreamless and at peace. The future was his.