Magic Dress - Faye

"My word, aren't you pretty!" she said. "Now promenade a bit. Show yourself off!"

Thus encouraged, I walked around in what I thought was a ladylike fashion. It felt so good!

Taking me by the arm we walked together round, until she stopped at a door in the garden wall and opened it.

Outside was a path, trees and the river.

"I can't!" I said.

"Nonsense!" she said, half pushing me through. "Just walk a few yards along the river, then we'll go back. There's no-one about."

I looked, and there wasn't. So I took a few tentative steps. And a few more.

"Promenade," said Doris. "Enjoy it!"

So there I was, walking by the river, feeling the breeze on my legs and the movement of the cloth on my skirt. It was good to be alive!

It was more than a few yards. I was lost in the moment. I was 'promenading', as she put it!

Suddenly I saw a man jogging towards us, and looked round in panic. We had gone quite a way along the path, and he would be upon us before I could get back to the garden.

"Just move to one side. Don't panic. He'll be past in a moment."

There was not time to do anything else.

"Afternoon, Eric," she said.

"Doris," he puffed without breaking his stride.

"I think we'd better go back now," I said turning round. To my horror, there were quite a few schoolchildren in the distance coming towards us."

"If you like," came the calm response. "But I normally turn off just up here to come back."

"OK," I said, hurrying forward, and nearly missed the little footpath, which I was directed down. In a short way it turned into a pleasant lane, with the backs of some old cottages. There was no-one about, so I was relieved. The trees were not so close, so I could feel the sun more, which was nice, as Doris told me a bit about the history of the village.

I was basking in the sun and the situation: a woman walking out with a friend in a nice dress on a nice day, so did not immediately notice that we had come out onto the High Street.

"Nearly there," she said, and I could see the teashop. The street wasn't busy, but there were cars and people just going about their business.

Some people acknowledged us, others did not.

"Promenade," whispered Doris, as I was hurrying like a man, so I did my lady walk, which made me a little less anxious, somehow.

Cheryl and Emma were standing outside.

"You shouldn't have waited," scolded Doris. "I've got my key."

"We weren't waiting for you, Mum," said Emma with a cheeky grin. "We're fans of Faye Dunaway, waiting for an autograph. Come on in, both."

She kissed me on the cheek and said "Well done, Faye. We're proud of you."

As Cheryl cleaned off my makeup, she said "We'll keep everything here, and you can come whenever you want. Here's our phone number, if the shop is closed. If you never come again, we'll understand, but it would be a pity. I think you'd enjoy more time as Faye, and we'd be glad to have you."

I thanked her, but said I didn't know.

"By the way," she added. "The bra is yours. I don't need it anymore as I've had implants. I don't know why I kept it. Nothing else done, though, and I really am a proper husband to Emma. Having a cock doesn't stop me enjoying life as a woman, and it needn't stop you. If anyone round here realises, it won't bother them as they all know me. You don't have to hide away anymore."

It was such a wonderful idea! But probably not. As I drove home, I thought perhaps I should quit while I was ahead. I had had my dream and got away with it. A little holiday, in a way.

That evening I was preoccupied and it obviously showed. I had just come to the idea of walking by the river in my dress, with Sarah beside me in hers.

"Penny for your thoughts?" interrupted my reverie.

"Sorry, love. I was just thinking about walking by the river with you."

"That's nice. I was rather pleasant wasn't it. We'll do it again some day."

"Oh, that reminds me," she said turning to the computer which was so often on her lap, "this is the Wikipedia page for the village. It's a bit brief and there's only one rather poor picture of the church. Why don't you have a little project to improve the page, since you're interested in local history? You can borrow my camera and take some pictures. It's just point and shoot, and there are some nice buildings."

CHAPTER 5

On my next visit I told Doris about the Wikipedia project.

"Good idea!" she said. "I'll introduce you to the vicar when we've had our tea. He's got some books, I think. I'm on the Church committee, so I know he's here today. We share him with the next village."

I was glad to hear this, and chatted about it till we finished.

"I'll take you over now," said Doris. "The church is just over the road."

She reached down and got a plastic shopping bag from which she took a green cardigan and a handbag.

"You'd better wear this as it's a bit cooler today, and you'll need the handbag for your camera, phone and stuff. It's a spare. It didn't buy it for you."

I protested that I couldn't, I would need to change.

"It's only over the road, for heaven's sake, and the vicar won't bite. He's got to love everyone: it's in his job description."

I suppose my protests were not 100% real, because I allowed myself to be taken through the shop (yes, with people in it) and over the road to the vicarage.

The vicar was a plump balding man in his forties, who just said "Pleased to meet you" as we were introduced and offered us tea, which we declined. I suppose in his trade he was used to meeting all sorts, and he called me Faye, but made no enquiries about my life.

He thought it would be good to do the Wikipedia page, and loaned me 1911 book about the church and the history of the parish. I was unable to resist when he took me outside to point out some features of the church and get me to take some pictures. Then we went inside, and I took some more.

I thought we were leaving, but he wanted to point out some other buildings, and said he would see if there was anything else he could find about the history.

As we went back over the road, I realised that it had been more than an hour. I had been out in the open and talking to someone while dressed as a woman. Being a woman, I corrected myself.

Slightly delirious, I walked a little down the High Street and took some pictures. There were people about and I was no longer worried. Or not much. Perhaps a little, but that was actually exciting.

That evening, Sarah transferred my pictures to her computer, and said they were a good start, but I could do better.

On Friday night she had something to tell me.

"We had one of our diversity training sessions today. They're mostly a bit of a bore, though the Muslim one was OK. Anyway this one was about transgender and that sort of thing, so I thought of your friend Cheryl."

She went on to tell me more: some statistics and how to treat someone who "wanted to be identified" in a certain way, and that it was mostly men who crossdressed, but the overwhelming majority weren't gay.

And more, but I was distracted and embarrassed and a bit excited, and longed to tell her, but of course could not.

She had obviously been hatching plans, because I got a lesson on Sunday about Wikipedia. I was told to start writing up offline, with careful references before trying to do the page. It looked as if Wednesday was going to be a sunny day, so she had made a plan. There was a website giving maps of what were called listed buildings, old ones considered especially important, and there were seven in the village. Sadly, the church was not one. There was another website showing the direction of the sun throughout the day on a map. She had therefore made a plan of which buildings would have the sun in the best direction at what time, and proposed I had a day taking pictures of them, plus anything else that I thought looked nice.

"And I give you a free pass to have whatever you want for lunch!"

I was pleased with that idea, but excited by another possibility.

When she was at work on Monday, I phoned Cheryl, who was very happy to help.

Something else happened on Monday. Since I was not working, I had taken over much of the domestic chores including washing. I started sorting the weekend's clothes when something obvious occurred to me. Her knickers were used but not dirty, so I could wear them if I left them till the afternoon. Was there anything else I could wear? In panties and a nightdress, I loaded the towels into the washing machine. Sarah's clothes were in the wash by the time she came home.

So began my secret dressing at home. Just out of the laundry basket, for a few hours. It was still nice.

CHAPTER 6

Wednesday was bright, and Sarah wished me luck as she went to work. It was no longer hot, so I had a light coat which I thought would also do for Faye, and my green hat.

The teashop was not yet open, but they let me in. Cheryl made me shave again, and applied some foundation over my beard area, and spent longer on my face. This was going to be all-day makeup! There was even mascara on my eyelashes.

As it was a little cooler, I was given tights and an underslip, which felt rather nice in itself.

With the wig and makeup, I was so happy with the woman I saw in the mirror! To be frank, I was still a man in a dress who could not possibly be mistaken for a young Faye Dunaway, but I was a very happy and feminine man.

And I loved having hair! Long hair, down beside my face!

That was another key moment, and the start of a beautiful day.

I wore the coat for a while, then decided the cardigan would be enough. I walked the length of the village in the morning, taking pictures according to Sarah's printed plan. People spoke to me, always very friendly, and I told them of my project. They often told me something about the history. It generally ended with "Nice to meet you, Faye."

Cheryl had advised me not to try too hard. To be a lady, rather than pretending to be a woman. Keeping my voice soft, but not trying to be falsetto. Being polite above all. I was not trying to fool anyone, just showing how I "wanted to be identified".

I recognised a couple of walkers and teashop customers, who seemed friendliest of all.

Back to the teashop for lunch, where I had the full afternoon tea with sandwiches as well as the scone with Doris. She left quite soon, and I was then held in conversation with a couple of other people, so it took longer than I expected.

As I left to start the afternoon's photography, I was hailed by the vicar, who came across with a couple of items he had found, as promised, which I left in the shop. I then walked the village again as the sun moved round according to Sarah's schedule. I used the ladies' toilet in the pub, and the barmaid said I was welcome, and they hoped to see more of me. Because of the sun, it was after five when I finished. The teashop was closed, of course, but they said they would be there if I rang.

It was with a sense of regret that my makeup was carefully removed and I washed my face until my eyes looked rather odd with just my usual lashes. But also an inner glow. I had spent a day as a woman, or at least a lady. Just out among people, being treated so nicely.

As I drove home, I wished I could tell Sarah, but again thought I should end it then. It was unlikely that the experience would be repeated. I might get into trouble, somehow. Better to quit while I had my winnings, more than I could ever have expected.

But I was still wearing the satin knickers, and was careful to change them for my regular underpants before bedtime.

I wore them again the next day, and then hid them until washing time. On Friday, I wore some of Sarah's and put them back in the laundry basket before she came home.

The weather had turned rainy, not appropriate for walks out, so I used an exercise bike. Each day I wore some of her underwear, and also tried on some of her other clothes, being careful to put them back exactly as I found them. I couldn't do anything but promenade around, as I was scared I might spill something or otherwise mark them. I really wished I could be feminine, like on that beautiful day.

On the plus side (I suppose) I did manage to upload some photographs and make my first contribution to Wikipedia with an expanded web page. Some other user thanked me! I remembered that the village shared its vicar with the neighbouring one, so looked and found that the Wikipedia page was also just a stub, so would be worth investigating.

CHAPTER 7

"Have you been wearing my clothes?" It was more an accusation than a question.

"Why do you say that, dear?" I responded (incorrectly as it turned out).

"So you have! You didn't say no, because you're a rotten liar. In any case, I can tell. You've taken some out and put them back in the same place. There's a bit of dust on the others because they haven't been worn for ages."

I blushed.

"I expect you've been wearing my knickers, as well!"

"Well, maybe," I foolishly answered.

She looked despondent, then brightened a little.

"Oh well, it's my own fault, I suppose. I kept telling you about crossdressers. I think if I was a man at home all day, I would probably have thought about trying it." She paused.

"So how was it then? Are you satisfied? Did you enjoy it? Do you want to do it again?"

"Sort of..." I whispered.

"Oh my God! Are you gay then? Do you fancy a big strong man to take you away from all this? Or have you got one already? Do you have a boyfriend at the teashop, or does Cheryl swing both ways?"

She was annoyed, but there was another key moment where I said (amazingly) just the right thing.

I said it a bit angrily.

"No, I'm not gay. I love you and I wish I could fuck you more!"

She looked amazed, then smiled.

"I think that's the most romantic thing you've ever said. OK it's a deal!" and she took me to the bedroom.

Where I gave her a really enthusiastic fuck. No foreplay, and not even much kissing, but she had a happy face as I rammed it in, for a good long time, before coming hard and collapsing. She hugged and kissed me tenderly before pushing to show I should get off.

I gently stroked her body appreciatively, and we exchanged affectionate kisses, before she got up, with a tissue and hand on her pussy and went to the bathroom. She came back in a while with a wet flannel for me, and I cleaned myself up.

"OK, I believe you," she said. "But if you fancy my knickers, there they are. Go on."

I put them on, and she smiled in amusement.

"God, that's daft! How is it for you?"

"Er, nice," I admitted.

She picked up her bra and tried to put it on me, but could not do it up at the back. She went away, and came back with something elastic which did the job.

"Do you like that?" she asked a little incredulously.

"Yes," I said in a small voice.

"And the dresses, did they fit?"

"Not really. There were a couple, but I couldn't do them up at the back."

Still naked, she got up and pulled out the ones I pointed to. We tried, but they would not button.

"It's your shoulders. You really need a sleeveless one, maybe a pinafore dress."

She looked up in thought for a moment.

"That green dress, at the teashop. That's it!" I thought she had guessed, but she continued. "Yes, Cheryl would know about such things. It might be for a friend of hers."

That evening, after dinner she came to a decision.

"If you want to, I don't see any harm in you wearing my knickers, since you wash them. We could get something a bit feminine for when you potter about at home, if you want to try it."

She looked thoughtful for a while.

"I never believed that the diversity training would affect me at home, but I sort of understand things. I suggest you go tomorrow and have a word with Cheryl to get some advice. Maybe they even have something in stock."

That night in bed, she said "Understand I'm not sure about this, but from what I've learned lately it's not unusual and not that harmful. We'll give it a try, but you have to keep up your part of the bargain -- fuck me more often!"

Next day while Sarah was at work, I telephoned Cheryl and we agreed that I would come in the following day. I was surprised and touched by the welcome I received. The vicar came over to join us for a cream tea, for which I insisted on paying, once I had been made up and dressed. It wasn't really photography weather, but he took me to the next village and we drove up and down while he gave me some of the history. Their church was actually a listed building but was presently closed while the small congregation used that of the other village. He had found a couple of old books relating to the church and the parish to start me off.

Meanwhile Cheryl had measured me up, made some telephone calls, and instructed me to bring Sarah on Saturday, towards the end of the afternoon.

CHAPTER 8

On Saturday, the window table was reserved, and we agreed to have the full cream tea.

"If I can have some of your sandwiches, you can have my scone," said Sarah, with a smile. "Diet's off!"

With it there was a special menu printed, which she looked through idly, then began to laugh.

In addition to the normal items there were such things as "Paint -- 1 litre, or 4 litres for sharing".

At the bottom was "Gentleman's special. A selection of skirts with optional top dressing, and choice of dress in grey, green or blue."

The shop closed, and they took us upstairs where there was indeed a rack with some skirts and tops. Plus the green dress, a grey pinafore dress and a blue one with a belt.

"I got what I thought might fit," said Cheryl. "It's easier with separates, because they can be two different sizes. It's a bit harder to get a dress with a good fit for a man, as I well know. The separates are sale or return to the wholesaler, but the others will go on the rack downstairs if you don't take them.

A thick winter skirt and a lighter plain one fitted nicely, as did a lacy blouse, and a flowery top. The grey dress Cheryl remarked would be good around the house with a T-shirt. The blue one worked well, but Sarah said we shouldn't bother with the green dress as it was too fancy for our needs. I tried not to show my disappointment.

Doris persuaded Sarah to go downstairs while Cheryl said she would put some makeup on me. There Doris told her about her life with Cheryl, and quite a bit more, I think.

Cheryl did me very carefully, with a bit more that I did not understand (to do with shading, she said.) With the wig and green dress, I went downstairs.

"Fucking hell!" exclaimed Sarah, who rarely swore. "What the fuck have you done?"

She seemed really angry, then calmed down a bit, then smiled, and finally chuckled.

"OK, you win! I know a put-up job when I see it. I won't ask any questions, so you don't tell me any lies. I suppose it was worth it to see Ray with hair again!"

"This is Faye," said Cheryl.

"Really, Faye, Ray? Well watch out for giant gorillas!" she was having to control her mirth.

"Like Faye Dunaway," added Cheryl, seriously, looking puzzled.

"What? You've done away with my husband?" she couldn't control her laughter any more.

Struggling to keep a straight face, she said "No really, it's very good. You look very, er... nice, Faye."

Still giggling a bit, she said "No offence, Cheryl. You've done an amazing job. The hair is wonderful, and the makeup is really effective." She had to pause to stifle a laugh. "But if you'd seen my husband in his stuffy business suits! He wouldn't even wear a coloured shirt or a floral tie! He refused to come clothes shopping with me. And he was so boring with his important work!"

She recovered herself, and became more business-like, though still smiling.

"That must be a padded bra. Much better. The tops needed something at the front. OK, we'll take everything."