College Chronicles Ep. 12

As I finished, she hugged me to her and railed against him.

"That fucking pervert! He's old enough to be a grandfather. OUR grandfather!"

I sniffled, and the depths of my pathos and self pity prompted a whimpered question.

"C-cin... What... What am I going to do? He... They'll kick me out if... If I don't..."

"Shhhh!"

Thankfully, Cindy cut me off before I could spin out worse and worse. With youthful, good natured energy, she pushed me off and bounced to her feet.

"Look, let's go. We're gonna cheer you up; you can't be in this mood for our date night. You look cute today by the--...you little bitch, that's my sweater!"

Her mock outrage brought a small smile to my face, and in a flash she had me cleaning my tears and reapplying my makeup. Then we were out the door and down the stairs.

Cindy was the best at cheering me up. She was the only person who'd ever gone out of their way to do so, but she was still the best. When we got in our Uber, the small smile had turned in a wide one, and when we exited, I was full on laughing, encounter with the professor forgotten.

We had alighted outside her usual hair salon; when she strolled in casually with me in her wake, it was like we were celebrities, suddenly whisked off our feet and into chairs. We gossiped, chatted, and laughed, all while I got my hair done, bob re-styled and curled until I nearly didn't recognize the flirty, gorgeous person in the mirror. Then we went to another room where we got mani-pedi's. I'd never even had someone else trim my nails, much less work on my feet, and I was giggly and shy the entire time, which amused Cindy and the two women working on us immensely.

Done with our pampering, Cindy paid another driver extra in cash to speed us back to hers, and rushed me back up to her room. There were two large boxes that I hadn't noticed earlier stacked in a corner; she pushed me towards them, nearly overflowing with glee.

"Open the top one! Jaxx isn't the only one who can get you presents!"

Pulling the cardboard box apart, I didn't know how to react to the white, sequined fabric inside. Cindy was so excited I wanted be happy, but I just couldn't make sense of her gift without seeing it on a body. Cindy had grabbed the second box, and I looked over to her in confusion; her actions answered my question as she began to strip down, smile wide and carnivorous.

"Come on, get changed! We can't be late for our reservation!"

I followed her instruction eagerly, doffing my clothing until I was down to just panties and bra-let. Then, struggling a bit, I pulled on the dress. It was tight, and the material had a slinky, pristine feel to it that just made me feel sexy. The design was one shouldered, with a neckline that came to around my collar bones, not exposing much chest at all-- which I was happy about, since I didn't have much to expose. The hemline came to my knees, but there was also a train on one side and along my back, reaching down to my ankles. The long, tight sleeves were studded with white sequins that continued on my torso and waist; every time I turned they caught the light, glinting with a promising shine. I stood before a mirror and spun slowly, captivated by my own appearance until I heard Cindy's good-natured laughter.

"I guess you like it then?"

I turned, ready to effusively thank her for the beautiful gift, but I was tongue tied by what I saw. She wore a simple but elegant black evening dress, long and cascading, with a slit up one side that exposed her shapely leg. I was lost for words; didn't know to respond to her or my new clothing-- so I simply nodded mutely, followed by a dumb, wide smile as she gracefully crossed the room towards me. When she kissed me it was like a firework going off in my mind, and I was still in a daze as she pulled me to the mirror, touching up my makeup to match the outfit change.

Then we were in another Uber, and I was laughing as Cindy regaled me with the stories of a sorority sister's dating mishaps. I had totally ceded control; the afternoon and evening had passed in a blur, and I was happy for Cindy to run everything, push and pull me from place to place, curt instructions all I needed to know. It was better that way, easier to forget everything else.

This drive was long, across nearly the whole city. We entered an area I'd not seen before; fast and business-like, pedestrians dressed formally well after normal working hours. The building we stopped outside of stood out only for its darkness: black walls, black tinted windows, and a simple black unmarked door. If I'd been with anyone but Cindy, I would have been panicking at something going seriously wrong. But I trusted her implicitly.

That trust was to be rewarded. The dark doors opened into a darker entranceway, which had me flashing back to Halloween night in the club. I clutched at Cindy's hand, and she squeezed back reassuringly, before pulling me forward through a double door.

The room we entered was more what I expected; an actual restaurant/bar dining room. The only lights were candles that lined every wall, giving the whole place a vibe that alternated between morbid and beautifully romantic. The subtle, flickering illumination made it difficult to see much further than a couple feet from us. I held Cindy's hand tightly and looked around, squinting at silhouettes that might have been servers moving between tables with shadowy patrons. I could hear the buzz of light conversations, all mingling into a shifting undercurrent that coated the room in soft sighs.

I'd felt self-conscious wearing my dress in the Uber, on the road outside our location. But inside the restaurant, with some mystery removed and wrapped in the warmth and darkness, I was strangely at ease; almost comfortable. Even a dark shape's soft voice only made me jump slightly when it intruded on us.

"Excuse me... Do you have a reservation?"

"Yes. Under 'Arugula Depp.'"

Cindy answered with confidence, and I double-took at the strange name. But the host accepted it without pause and motioned for us to follow. Cindy tugged me along as she followed them, winding us through small tables with exclusively paired diners.

We sat, and when I could be sure the host had walked away, I leaned forward and questioned her.

"... Arugula... Depp?"

"Don't judge! They gave me it. It's like a code name, or something."

I was surprised Cindy was so excited, it sounded kind of strange to me. I verbalized my doubt, feeling safe, almost alone with her.

"A... A code name... for a restaurant?"

She sighed, and even in the darkness I could feel her eyes roll as she explained.

"It's a pop-up restaurant. It doesn't even have a name! They only operate one day every other month, and the location always changes. AND, it's super exclusive. You have to know someone who knows someone. I wasn't going to argue with whatever they wanted to call me!"

"Oh... Ok... So... Do they give us menus, or...?"

"That's the cool part. You don't order, they just bring you a meal!"

"What? What if you... Don't like it?"

"Oh Sami, chill! I don't think that's ever happened!"

As if summoned by our conversation, a waiter swooped in with two wine glasses and a bottle, pouring then leaving without saying a word. I was still dubious, but the wine was sweet and fruity and so good, soon Cindy and I were embroiled deep in conversation. It was easy to forget everything else in that dark room, to whisper and mumble and let our voices join the hushed vibrations of others. There was all the excitement of being out and waited upon, but the intimacy and comfort of a date night at home. It freed me of anxiety about my dress and everything else in my life, left nothing in the world but Cindy and me and our winding chatter, talking about everything and nothing all at once, pinging off topics in a stream of consciousness pace that only increased as less of the wine remained. When food arrived I could hardly see it, didn't even know what it was. But it tasted delicious, and our conversation was replaced for a few minutes by the simple silence of dedicated consumption.

Then I heard the clink of utensils being placed down, and Cindy gently cleared her throat.

"Okay... So, you asked me a couple of... good questions. And you deserve answers..."

Even in the dim light, I could spot the sympathetic glint of her iridescent eyes. She was radiant with beauty and compassion, and my curiosity about what was happening to me suddenly seemed negligible against the blissful peace of our special, exclusive dinner date.

"So about the--"

"--Wait!"

I blurted the word out, anxious to cut her off, and in my haste almost shouted, interrupting the gauze of sound that wrapped the room. But I couldn't feel the judgemental, curious eyes of the other diners, and they quickly reasserted their soft buzz. I COULD feel Cindy's questioning gaze from the across the table, needed to explain myself.

"I'm... I'm sorry Cin... I just... I don't... "

Her hand grabbed mine, squeezed it reassuringly. She gave me the strength to string words together.

"I know I asked... I just... I want this... To last. Can... Can you tell me later?"

"Of course, babe."

And just like that she dropped the issue, and we went back to eating and talking and drinking, not skipping a beat with awkwardness or regret. After the meal they brought us a delicious chocolatey dessert, and by the end of that we were both feeling in need of another gym session. But it was a job for another day, and when a waiter arrived, they proved light could penetrate the sacred darkness, using a small pocket flashlight to illuminate the bill.

Though we had to venture back out into the chilly street with its blinding street lights, something of the warmth and peace of that special experience stayed with me. It was like in the darkness I had been fully immersed in something, and grown used to it, let it inside me. Freed of thinking about my appearance and anxieties, I'd leant fully into being whoever I was with Cindy. Sam, Sami... Samantha-- whichever I tried, it was just right to give up on fear and finally admit it was better. We would go back to her room, she would explain everything, and it would all make sense.

In the Uber back, I was even able to ignore the periodic leers of our driver in the rearview mirror. I rested my head on Cindy's shoulder and tipsily fantasized about her. I hoped we would get dressed up and go out again, maybe even go dancing. Maybe she would help me tease Jaxx, get back at him for forgetting me. But I couldn't talk about Jaxx with her, she was jealous of him. I almost laughed at the idea, but caught myself, knowing I'd have to explain. How could she possibly be jealous of me and Jaxx? But it was true, unspoken between us. It was so stupid, though, because I loved her so much, and Jaxx was such a fucking asshole.

I mentally checked myself, catching up with my own drunk mind. It was the first time that I'd thought the word with its true, full power. I turned slightly to look up at Cindy, and found her eyes closed, a slight smile adding peaceful contentment to her gorgeous face. I knew she'd enjoyed our dinner as much as I had, and that in itself was a win. Yes, I loved her. But I admitting it to myself and saying it to her were two different worlds. I decided to keep it to myself, at least for a little. I hoped she knew already, but didn't want to ruin things, just in case.

*

We arrived back at the sorority in high spirits, still drunk and revelling. Falling through her door in a mutual fit of giggles, Cindy collapsed into her couch, reaching for her weed box. But mid-reach she suddenly stopped, shooting me a look much too serious for my comfort.

"I know you don't want to talk about it, but I need to give you answers. High or sober?"

I considered for a moment. She was right, had said it herself; my questions deserved answers. Did I need to be sober for this conversation? It would probably help to be on top of my game, thinking as clearly as possible. If I'd been talking to Jaxx, there wouldn't be a question. My trust in Cindy, however, ran deep; I knew she'd laugh WITH my silly exclamations, would give me time to sort through fogged thoughts. So my answer was short and sweet.

"High as FUCK."

Her laugh was a siren's call from a foggy sea, and we lost ourselves in drifting clouds.

When they cleared, my head was in Cindy's lap, legs over the armrest of her couch. We were both becoming one with the seat. Cindy's tolerance was astronomical, and she had the wherewithal to pull herself up a bit and finally broach the topic I'd been dreading.

"Okay. You asked me what's happening to you. And you deserve to know..." Her burning emerald gaze beamed down from above, and I cringed under the potential of her words. "...Even if you don't want to."

A shiver rippled through me, but not one of fear. She looked at the floor for a moment, and I waited silently, closing my eyes and enjoying her supple, warm skin. With a sigh, she moved, pushing me slightly.

"Get up! Come on!"

I overreacted to her push and fell awkwardly, barely catching myself on hands and knees. She stood over me, but when I looked up her hand was offered out. The sly, vulpine smile had softened edges; didn't cut as much as it had used to. I took her hand, trusting her wholly. Up, she pushed me towards her mirror and barked a command.

"Strip!"

"Wha-?"

"Come on, trust me! Strip! Just for a second, pleeease?"

As she spoke, Cindy started to undress herself, and with that encouragement I did the same, pulling my dress up by the hem to slide it over my head. I dropped it in a puddle on the floor, and a second later followed by my bralet. I paused, but Cindy clucked behind me.

"Uh-uh! All the way!"

"But Cinn--"

"--No! Naked, Sami!"

I hesitantly tugged my panties down my legs, adding them to my pile of clothes. Suddenly exposed in the middle of her room, my arms slipped bashfully to my crotch and chest, striving to hide the goosebumps that pricked across my skin. But Cindy rested her head on my shoulder, as naked as I was, pulling my arms down to my sides and turning me to face a full-length mirror. She spoke, her voice quiet and warm.

"Look."

I did, but all I saw was my quivering body, shy eyes and cheeks primed to blush. I was intimidated and confused by Cindy's insistence, the inscrutable commands she issued.

"Wha... Cin, I... I don't--"

"--Shhhh. Look at yourself! Really look. Don't you see a difference? Do I need to show you a picture?"

Then I looked hard, scanning myself slowly, inspecting every detail. Slowly, piece by piece, I understood the point she was trying to make.

My hair was obviously longer... but it was also thicker, more luxurious and flowing. I lifted a hand, thin, pale, dainty, to brush a loose strand behind my ear. Were my hands smaller than they had been?

I studied my face. My eyebrows were thin and slightly arched, lashes long and batting, lips thick, full, and pouty. I hadn't applied THAT much makeup, had I?

My eyes scanned over my pointed chin, down my thin, long neck. No trace of an Adam's apple. Had I had one noticeably before? I strangely couldn't remember. My collar bones stood out, and my shoulders were held high, a product of the posture Cindy had instilled in my early on.

Then I paused, arrested, and my mouth widened in slow amazement. I had titties! Small but unmistakable, not mosquito bites; a girl's breasts with my cute eraser nipples and pink areola, a soft curve underneath leading to my abs. When had that happened?

On to my midriff, where I appreciated my newly defined musculature and impressively flat tummy. I certainly hadn't had the approaching hourglass physique before-- were my hips always so wide? I turned slightly, just so I could see my butt in side profile. Thicker than before, the definition of a bubble butt; Cindy's squats had done their work. She noticed my attention and gave my ass a naughty squeeze that flushed me red and made me turn back to my front profile.

I reached my crotch, and had to look at my shame, knowing Cindy would be watching me like a hawk. As I feared, my little penis stared back at me; it was smaller than ever before, withdrawn into me, only a tiny thin prick visible on my hairless crotch. My balls were nowhere to be seen-- it was cold, and for a second I hoped they'd just retracted inside me. But I knew the truth; couldn't escape it.

I was glad to continue down to my legs. My thighs were hairless and soft; thicker than they had been? How was I putting on fat, with all the working out? Yet they also showed lines of definition, and tapered gracefully down to my shapely calves and little feet.

When I looked back up at the full reflection, I saw how much I'd changed. It had been slow, gradual over the two and half months I'd been at college. I hadn't even noticed, seeing myself so often, googly-eyed over the clothes and makeup and everything else I'd been lavished with. But with all the evidence summarized before me, it was difficult to reconcile. I'd chalked any change I noticed up to Cindy's rigorous workouts or the products she had me using. But Sami was more than any workout plan and beauty regimen could create. I turned to her, unable to formulate a question, sputtering in confusion.

"Buh... Wha... How??"

Cindy didn't answer my half formed question, instead posing her own.

"Do you know what a 'sissy' is?"

"Uhm... Like... A weakling? A wussy?"

"Haha. Wussy. More like pussy."

She arched an eyebrow as she said the word, and I cringed involuntarily. The smile that wrinkled her beautiful visage was sad, maybe even regretful.

"No... kind of. A weakling is part of it. A sissy is a boy... Usually a white boy... who realizes they aren't a man."

My stomach dropped, and even naked I broke into a sweat. Cindy continued.

"They're more like girls. Sissies like to stay in great shape, dress up really pretty in girly clothes and wear makeup. They like to go to parties and get wild, get really drunk, make out with girls, maybe even other sissies."

She cocked her eyebrow again.

"Why do you think someone would do that?"

I could feel my heartbeat in my fingers and toes, burning hot. Uncontrollably, a word slipped from my mouth, drifting like a feather to the floor.

"Dick..."

It landed with finality, and Cindy's expression went smug, pleased.

"Mmhmm... Does that sound like anyone we know?"

I went off like a bomb, going hot on every part of my body realizing what I had just said, what Cindy was obviously and correctly implying. She ignored me, used to and expecting my frequent blushes.

"You're a sissy, Sami. It's okay. You were never supposed to be a boy, that's why everything has always been so tough for you."

She spun me around to face her, and suddenly she was wearing a fluffy bathrobe, pulled another around my shoulders. I clutched it to me, not knowing what to feel. Cindy's eyes were soft and comforting.

"I knew it as soon as I saw you. But you weren't ready. You needed help. So I've been trying to help you... find yourself."

She smiled guiltily, knowing how cliched she sounded.

"You're so shy and quiet, Sami... It's super cute, but you needed some pushing. And tell the truth, aren't you happier now? Aren't things better now than when you first got here?"

She wasn't wrong, but it was so much, such a massive shift in everything that I thought I knew for my entire life, it was hard to take in.

"Y-yeah... I... But..."

"I know, I'm sorry I never told you..."

Guilt clouded her eyes again, and she reached out to grab one of my hands, pulling it to her chest. I let her have it, but avoided looking at her, still trying to sort the muddled mess of feelings rioting inside me.

"But sometimes you were just so scared, you needed me to force you. And other times... Things were just... so good... I didn't want you to be angry, and ruin it."