Magic Dress - Faye

CHAPTER 1

It was a perfect summer day, warm with just a gentle breeze, and it was good to be alive in my new green dress. I walked along the side of the river, enjoying the green leaves of the trees and the colour of the bricks on the old houses. The feel of the breeze on my bare legs and the gentle movement of the cloth of my skirt was just right. I greeted a couple of people cheerfully.

Then I was lying in bed beside my wife. It had been a wonderful dream and I just tried to hold onto it, warm and happy.

"One of your vivid dreams?" said Sarah. "Don't bother telling me about it. It's not as interesting as you think to other people." I am afraid I had told her a few nights ago how it felt having a live goldfish in my hand, as I tried to find some water to put it in.

Usually, as in the case of the goldfish, I had no idea where these dreams came from, but this time I did.

To begin at the beginning which was also an end. The heart attack which ended my working life. I suppose it was with some chagrin that I visited work later to be told how well they were doing without me! They had replaced me with Chantelle, a rather large woman who wore large print dresses. I was slightly surprised, but she had the qualifications, and must be pleased to be in management, though I thought some more sober clothes would be better.

I felt like a very old man and was glad to take early retirement. Sarah had put me on a strict diet -- plenty of veg, some fish, a little meat and no dessert. As a result, I got back the same waist as when I was 18 (though without the muscles) and felt a lot younger. My business suits went to charity.

I also had to exercise, initially just in the local streets, but as I built up endurance this got a bit boring, so had taken to visiting places and walking around. Sarah still worked, so this was something I did by myself, exploring the local countryside and villages I had never seen in my working life though they were so close.

The next key event was when I parked by a church and saw a sign opposite "Magic Teashop". I had not had so much as a slice of cake for years when I saw an 'English cream tea' on offer. A proper pot of tea, a scone and strawberry jam with cream! This had always been a favourite and I could not resist.

I went in, admiring the proper little tables and crockery, just as a teashop should be. The staff were two very pleasant young women, both in appearance and character, in simple summer dresses.

As I looked around, I was amazed to see that what I at first took for decoration was actually goods for sale. It was half teashop with a surprising variety of things to buy.

When the young lady serving asked if there was anything else, I joked that I couldn't decide whether to have a gallon of paint or a new dress.

"Oh, definitely the dress," she answered, with a little laugh. "Feel free to browse!"

Indeed, they had a rack of dresses and all sorts of other things.

The home-made scone was perfect as was the jam and cream. The tea was made from tea leaves and served in a nice pot with a jug of hot water supplied without asking. It was quite the best meal I had had for years.

I told them so, as I paid, with a generous tip, and felt bold enough to say something else.

"I hope you don't mind me saying, but I do like to see women in dresses and you two really add to the decoration here." They were half my age, and I must have looked harmless, so the younger one laughed.

"Not at all, nice to be appreciated. And you know a dress is so simple -- just one thing to put on. We like them as well. Come and compliment us any time."

So of course I did.

Next week I came back.

"Ah, you've come to choose a dress. Would you like to order something to eat while you choose?"

It was my weekly sin whenever the weather was good enough and became a standing joke.

"A cream tea and a dress, sir?"

The village was very nice and there was a pleasant path by the river. Along the river, then back along the high street was just the right length of walk. I would enjoy this and arrive at the tea-shop a comfortable time before closing. Some of the regular customers would nod to me, or even remark on the weather, as did a couple of regular walkers.

Sometimes there was no-one else in the shop, and they would take a dress off the rack and hold it up, saying "how about this one?" Well, I was a harmless old buffer who tipped generously. I did not kid myself there was anything else with these young women, and I knew Sarah wouldn't mind me chatting with them, though she would be sure to tell me off about the cream tea.

Then one day they told me there was some new stock, and offered me a green dress. It looked very nice.

"It's only thirty pounds," said the older one. She held it up against me. "I'm sure it's your size, and it would go well with your colour."

"You can try it on, if you like," she said enticingly in a husky, sexy voice.

I laughed but perhaps nervously, and had my treat and a chat.

It was that night I had the dream.

The next week the dress was still there. They just served me a cream tea with no banter, while another pair of customers finished off their meal.

When the other customers left, the sign was changed to closed. I finished up and went to pay, thanking them as usual.

Without a word, the older one took the dress of the rack and barred my way by holding it across me.

"You can try it on," she said. "In fact, I think you should. There's no charge and we won't tell anyone."

"Well, I er, thanks, but..." was pretty much all I could say.

"I can tell you really want to; the way I've seen you look. And you aren't totally joking. I know exactly how you feel. We're husband and wife if you haven't guessed. Come on upstairs, and get it over with. Just try it to prove me wrong."

Somehow, I did want to try on a dress. And now I looked I could see that she was a man, but it showed what some makeup and a dress could do, so that I had never realised it before. Yes, she had a husky voice, while her wife had a higher one. They were probably about the same age.

I was more or less mesmerized. I could not have done it myself, but followed instructions. They had an extra tea room upstairs, I suppose for functions, and it was there I took off my shoes, trousers and shirt, and the dress was slipped on me. Yes, it was easy.

There was a mirror, as it must be used as a changing room. I looked in it. And saw me. In a nice dress. The odd thing is that it didn't look odd.

"Put on your shoes," she/he said, and they took me downstairs.

"We'll just go out the back. It's quite private."

It was a garden with a high wall, and I walked around a bit. She/he beamed.

"There you are! I knew it was you. Nice, isn't it being out in a dress? Personally, I love walking by the river."

I didn't know what to say. I didn't know what to think, apart from the fact that yes it was nice, and I would love to walk in it by the river.

Eventually I managed to stammer "Yes, it's very nice, but I don't think my wife would like it."

We went back in and upstairs to change.

"Give me thirty pounds and you can keep it here, and wear it whenever you want. We'll serve you cream tea up here in private if you like. And you can walk in the garden."

I handed over thirty pounds.

"I'm Cheryl, and this is Emma," she said.

"Pleased to meet you. I'm Ray."

CHAPTER 2

My mind was in a turmoil going home. I wasn't gay, that was for sure, but looking back, I had not merely like seeing women in dresses, I had slightly envied them. Thinking about the girls at work and regretting my boring suit: yes, I had been longing to dress up for years, maybe all my life. Maybe if I hadn't worked so hard, I might have realised sooner.

I decided to come clean. Well, a bit.

"Sarah, love, I've got a confession to make."

"Oh, this is good," she said with a big grin. "Who is she?"

"There's two of them," I answered. "I've been visiting them once a week."

"And what do these mistresses do to please you, that I do not?"

"They serve me an English cream tea in a village teashop."

She laughed.

"Well you do like your desserts, unlike me." She kissed me.

"It's not such a big sin if you keep to your diet and take exercise. Do you walk as well, or just sit and gorge?" I said I walked along the river and admired the historic buildings.

"Rather you than me," she replied. "Well, I suppose I had better come and see this village and your mystery ladies. Do they serve anything savoury? Salads, sandwiches?" I said they did.

So on Saturday we went together. Sarah declined a walk along the river, but agreed it was a pretty village. It was rather earlier than usual when we went into the teashop, and it was quite busy. We had to wait for a table, so she looked at the other items for sale, and was amused.

Emma cleared a table and I quickly made the introductions, before she hurried off to deal with the rest.

"Well," said Sarah, with a wink. "She IS pretty. I can see it's not just the scones that attract you. In fact, they're both very attractive. Nice dresses, too."

She had a toastie (toasted cheese and ham sandwich) and salad which she said was good, while I had a salad and my sinful cream tea.

The shop was less crowded when we had finished and Cheryl came to ask if we had enjoyed the meal.

"Yes, lovely," said Sarah. "Do you have a changing room where I could try on a dress?"

"Yes, there's a room up the stairs. You're welcome."

She rummaged through and selected two which she thought were in her size. One was a midi in white with a small pattern, the other just above the knee in blue.

Upstairs she tried them on. There was a mirror. I tried to ignore the green dress on a hanger in the corner.

"Well, they both feel good. What do you think?"

"I like them both," I said. "You look good in either."

"Spoken like a true husband!" was the reply. "I've seen that green dress as well. I guess it's sold and to be collected, but it is nice." She went and had a look. "Not my size anyway. Might just fit you if you fancy!"

"Well," she concluded "it's got to be the white dress. I'm too old for a skirt as short as this."

She changed and we went downstairs.

"This one please," she said.

"We'll take both," I said. She was surprised, but I am sure she was pleased. "Why don't you put on the blue one and I'll take you for a walk?"

She didn't argue, and we had a lovely walk by the river. Some of the people I often met said "Hello," and I said "Hi, this is my wife, Sarah," in return. I was so proud of her!

When we got home, we tore off our clothes and made passionate love!

Afterwards she remarked "Do you remember the last time we bought a dress together?"

I thought.

"No."

"Exactly."

CHAPTER 3

Next Saturday I asked her if she wanted to come to the village for lunch.

"No thanks," she said. "You go and enjoy your ladies. By the way, did you notice that Cheryl was actually a man?"

"Really?"

"Yes, but he makes quite a good woman. According to the Daily Mail there's more of it about than you might think. I saw a TV programme about a retired man like you dressing up. He said it relaxes him. Maybe you should have tried it before your heart attack!"

I laughed as well as I could, and went off.

It was a sunny day, so I was wearing my hat, a floppy green bucket, one to protect my sensitive pate. I took it off and nodded to one of the regular customers, a woman, who had just sat down.

Cheryl came to me quickly, and took me upstairs.

"I'll leave you to change," she said, "while I get your usual. The shop's not busy. Would you like some company while you eat?" I thought it was kind of her to offer, and said yes.

I dressed and admired myself. I put on the hat. It could perfectly well be worn by a woman, and covered my shining feature.

In a while Cheryl came back with my tray, but was followed by the woman from downstairs!

"I'll just go and get your teacake, Mum," said Cheryl. "This is Ray. Ray this is Doris, my Mum."

"May, I join you?" said Doris, and of course I said "Of course," though I didn't feel like it at all. How dare Cheryl do this to me!

She was obviously giving me the once-over.

"You know you remind me of Faye Dunaway. Do you like her?"

"Oh yes, very much," I said, thinking that as Cheryl's mother she would hardly be bothered by a man in a dress.

"The hat's good, though you could really do with some blonde hair."

"Some hair would be good," I agreed with a smile.

She rummaged in her handbag.

"Would you mind? It's not permanent. It will wipe off when you're finished." She produced a lipstick.

It seemed I had no choice, and she put it on carefully.

"There, that's much better. Have a look. What do you think?" she said, nodding toward the mirror.

She was right.

"Oh, thank you," I said, adding "so you're Cheryl's mother," which was rather superfluous.

"Yes," was the answer, but gave her the chance to speak. "She was christened Charles, but really always wanted to be a girl, I think. Eventually we called her Cheryl at home and had a skirt for her, and pretty nightdresses. There was no recognition of transgender in those days, or at least not round here. It was only when she left school that she could be Cheryl full-time. Emma had known about her at school, and it wasn't long before they married."

At that point Cheryl came back with another pot of tea and toasted teacake.

"Anything else, Mum?"

"Yes, don't you think Faye looks better with a bit of lippy?"

"Oh yes. Much better. Quite ready to go out, if you ask me." She grinned, and left. It seemed I was now Faye, which I didn't mind.

I knew what I wanted to ask, but couldn't. She answered just the same.

"I'm a widow now. Me and my husband ran this as the village shop, but it wasn't doing well, now people could drive to the supermarket. So Cheryl and Emma wanted to start a teashop for the tourists, and it ended up half and half, which visitors find amusing, so come back again."

I told her about my wife and my heart attack and we enjoyed our tea. We were of the same generation so were able to reminisce, and exchange some prejudices about present times.

It was only when Emma came up to say the shop had closed, but did we want any more tea, or anything else, that I said I'd better be going.

"Nonsense!" said Doris. "Let's go downstairs and chat some more." She looked towards Emma.

"I've got my key, so I'll see that Faye is cleaned up and the shop locked."

She took me downstairs and we sat by the window looking out on the high street.

I suppose the next half hour could be counted as gossip. I felt I was really being treated as a woman. Perhaps even more than that, I may have been considering myself as a woman, just a bit. She was keen to tell me some more.

"I remember that first holiday by the seaside when she was eight. It was my husband's idea to buy her a little dress and a girl's swimsuit, and she was so happy I cried. She had to be a boy at school, of course because people didn't understand in those days. We weren't sure if she would grow out of it of course, but obviously she didn't. When we moved here to take over the shop, she went to the grammar school in the town. She got us to buy the skirt for the uniform as well as the trousers, and would change into it when she got home. Puberty was a bit of a bind of course."

"Then Emma started coming round and they put on makeup and danced to pop music like any teenagers. They've been together since. He married as Charles, of course, but has been Cheryl ever since. I don't know what if anything they do in the bedroom, but there's no sign of grandchildren."

She looked at me with tears in her eyes.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gone on like that. It was just so good to have another woman to share it with, and you seem so nice."

It was the toilet which ended it. We both needed to go. I was feeling pretty good as I sat down to pee. Then I looked at myself in the mirror. The lipstick did make a difference.

When I came out, Doris had some kind of wipe ready to remove my lipstick, and sent me upstairs to change, while she went to the toilet.

"Will I see you next Thursday?" she said, (this being my usual day) and I said I would look forward to it.

CHAPTER 4

Next Thursday, Cheryl took me to one side.

"Mum's upstairs," she said. "Don't be angry. She likes you and she means well. I'll bring up your tea."

I wondered what this could be about.

Doris was sitting at a table with a polystyrene head on it with a blonde wig.

She put her hand to her mouth and gave a guilty look.

"Sorry, I just had to see how you looked with hair."

She covered her face for a moment, then looked pleadingly at me.

"Just put on your dress and try it, would you?"

I looked over at the dress and saw it had a bra dangling from the coat hanger.

"A lady's not properly dressed without a bra," she said, with a naughty schoolgirl look.

At this point Cheryl came up the stairs looking annoyed.

"Mum!" she said. "I told you Ray wouldn't like it! Would you go and help Emma in the shop, please, while I sort things out? I'll be down in a bit."

She scuttled down as if she was the daughter being told off, and I was embarrassed for her.

"It's all right," I said. "I don't mind, but she shouldn't have spent the money. I'll pay for it if she can't return it. Let me get dressed and I'll try it."

"That's good of you," she said. "Do you want to try the bra? It's one of mine with foam boobs. It would help the dress."

She helped me put it on, and yes, the dress did look and feel better. There were also some satin look panties, still in the wrapper, which were nice in themselves.

"The makeup first," she said. "I'll do your eyebrows a bit. It'll come off easy enough."

There was a new lipstick and mascara on the table.

She shrugged and said "Mum! They're yours."

Then the wig.

I looked in the mirror.

There are key moments in your life. This was one of them.

And saw not a bad looking woman. Me.

I knew it was me. This was how I was going to be. At least sometimes. Even just an hour a week. To be me.

"Hang on. I'll be back in a mo," she said as she hurried out.

She came back with an electric razor and a compact.

"Your beard is showing. You'll have to shave a bit more often, like me."

I shaved and she patted some powder round my chin and face.

"We really need some foundation, but that'll have to do for now."

She called down the stairs "Mum, you can come up now."

Doris came up with a tray of teapots and teacups which she put on a table. Emma came up with the scone and teacake. Then they all looked at me.

"What do you think?" said Doris proudly to the others. "Is that Faye or not?"

Cheryl came up, stood beside me, and said "This here's Miss Bonnie Parker. I'm Clyde Barrow. We rob banks!" We all laughed.

"Very nice, Faye! You do look good! Now excuse us, we have to get back to the shop." They left Doris and me to our tea.

We actually said nothing for a while, as we had our tea. Doris broke the silence.

"Nice scone, Faye?"

"Very nice, Doris. How's your teacake?"

"Good, as always, thank you."

"It's very good of you..." I began. "But..."

"No buts," came the swift reply. "Do you or do you not agree that you looked good?"

"Well, yes, er... but..."

"And you liked it, didn't you?"

"Well, yes I did."

"Well why shouldn't you look and feel like that if you like it?"

"My wife..." I said, which seemed to silence her.

In a while she said quietly "You know you really could go out like this."

When we had cleared our little plates, she stood up.

"Come out the back. I want to see you in daylight."

Obediently I went downstairs through the kitchen and out into the little garden. It was still warm and sunny.