Magic Dress - Fleur

Story Info
Freddy tries French dressing.
4.7k words
4.67
12.1k
6
0

Part 35 of the 82 part series

Updated 06/09/2023
Created 02/01/2019
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here

CHAPTER 1

I met him in Paris, the most romantic city in the world. We were both spending a bit of time after finishing school. I was taking a year before university, he had just the summer after leaving school and before starting work. Two eighteen-year olds out in the world.

He thought I was French and local because of the way I was talking with some other girls, so asked me if I knew something (I forget what) in French. He was so disappointed that I answered in English that my heart went out to him, and I suggested we had coffee.

His name was Freddy. He wasn't going to university, but had done A level French, and was really quite good, as I assured him, but not a native speaker. In fact, I loved the English way he spoke French, like the Queen, so we talked in French, unless there was something he did not understand.

I told him I was Hélène, from Quebec, and we agreed to meet the next day. From that moment, there was never anyone else for either of us, but we did not know that yet. We were both tourists, so wanted to see pretty much the same things. I may have had the better language, but he was better prepared, having done research and got some guidebooks (in French, of course). So I was glad to let him lead. And on the third day we made love. I will admit I later had sex with other men at university, but he was and is the only one to make love to me.

I wrote letters home in English to Papa and in French to Maman. Papa is British Canadian and as a child always spoke to me in English while Maman spoke only French to make me fully bilingual. Naturally, news of my first sexual experience was contained in a French letter. She told me well done, a holiday romance in Paris was a good start to my life as a woman, and she wished me the joy of many more young men providing I was careful.

The plan was that I would spend about half my year in France, and about half in England. Although we had money, my parents would not approve of a year-long holiday, so I had to spend most of the time working, and I had applied for a summer job in the new Eurodisney park where being bilingual in French and English was the first requirement. So after my holiday in Paris, I had to smile, pick up litter and explain the same things to a thousand different people. The job wasn't bad. I was quickly moved to a higher grade just for being cheerful. Some of my French fellow crew-members were quite surly or off-hand, very far from the American idea of dealing with guests. (We Canadians are more restrained, but I was familiar with the bonhomie expected in the US.)

I had a few dates, some kisses and gropes, and one near thing with a very attractive young man of Moroccan extraction, but never had sex.

My parents were university professors and had arranged an office job for me in the university in Nancy, a beautiful and historic city where I stayed until Christmas, when I went home. Papa had arranged a similar situation in London for when I returned.

However, I was a headstrong young woman and had been exchanging letters with Freddy, so after arriving in London I simply went to his city, found a cheap bed and breakfast, and looked for work. The proprietor kindly told me of a somewhat larger establishment, and I got a job as a maid. And then I went to see Freddy.

It was a bit of a shock. I had not realised how privileged I had been. Freddy lived with his mother and younger brother Jim, who was still at school. His mother had once been a pretty woman with beautiful green eyes, but was clearly not well and in pain. I gathered this was at least partly due to the beatings she had received from her husband, who had died in a car accident, leaving them destitute. After his two weeks in France, Freddy had started work in a local department store in order to support his mother and his brother. There were two older brothers, now in the armed forces, who didn't get a lot of money, but sent what they could. They had funded his holiday, and his mother had insisted he take it. She was so glad to see me, and said I was as lovely as Freddy had described.

She moved out of her bedroom to Freddy's, so that we could have the double bed, and I had tears as I thanked her. So of course we made love a lot, and never got tired of it or each other. For five months we were both in heaven, and swore that it was for life and there would never be any other.

The younger brother Jim had the face of an angel and his mother's green eyes. He was apparently very good academically, especially maths, but was eager to get a job to help the family finances, just as soon as he could leave school.

How far this was from my comfortable background where everyone went to university!

It was a struggle to get them to accept money from me, but as I wasn't paying rent and had a job, I didn't need it. Jim really needed new clothes for his final year at school, so I was allowed to pay for them. I also did some shopping and cooked for them some of Quebecois and French dishes I knew.

I think they respected me for working as a hotel maid, so eventually accepted a weekly contribution.

Both Jim's mother and my parents were adamant that I should take up my place at the Université de Montréal, and Freddy said it would confirm that were really in love.

When summer came, I gave up my job and Freddy took his annual leave. Jim promised to look after his mother, and we had the trip to London I had always wanted. It was a five-star hotel, paid for by my parents. I told Freddy it was their money, they were spending it on their daughter, so it was nothing to do with him, except that they were glad if I had my boyfriend with me.

Both London and Freddy were everything I wanted - all I expected and a few surprises.

Finally it was time to leave. We kissed, we made love desperately and we parted.

CHAPTER 2

Maman talked to me seriously. Losing my virginity in Paris was only to be expected, and they were both glad I had found such a nice young man. But I should not mistake that first romance as the only man for me. It might be, but I should not assume it. They had expected a few more sexual adventures for me in Europe, but I now had the chance to put that right at university. She said a dozen lovers before marriage seemed about right for a young woman today, and there might be a few afterwards.

She told me that she and Papa had a 'one-month rule'. They were both professors in different departments, and spent time away for conferences, research visits and lecture tours. If they were going to be apart for more than three weeks it was considered OK, in fact encouraged, to enjoy sex with someone else - with care, of course. It was not only pleasurable; it was part of academic networking and explained how they had been able to fix me positions in Paris and London.

(Not Eurodisney, of course. Their network did not extend to such areas, and she promised my department at the Université de Montréal had no-one they had known in this way.)

In fact, she said, it would be wrong for me not to explore my horizons as a student, and I should not begrudge my Freddy the same. I pouted and said we were different.

But I was wrong. University was also everything I expected and more. It was so exciting to be among such bright young people with all sorts of activities. Of course, I was more mature than most of the first years, who were quickly getting drunk and falling into bed with each other. I remained smugly celibate right through the fall semester, and was looking forward to seeing Freddy at Christmas.

It was a disaster when various flights were cancelled including mine, and of course all others were fully booked. We managed a transatlantic telephone call, but that was all. There was no Skype like today. The university had internet access, for academic purposes, but it was inconceivable that someone like Freddy would have email.

I suppose it was the miserable Christmas time which led me into the arms of Marc, a self-assured and handsome third-year student in the following semester. He was a skilled lover, and people said we made a good couple. Maman was pleased. When he dropped me, I promptly rebounded into a brief relationship with someone who then haunted me for the rest of the degree. In the summer semester I concentrated on work.

However, I felt guilty and with one thing and another did not do as well as I should in my exams. But there was another disaster: I had got fat! The other girls said it was not cool to dress up as sex objects, so I adopted the same baggy clothes, including tracksuits and borrowed jeans, which started loose but ended tight. Maybe there was comfort eating. Maybe I was punishing myself.

Maman said nothing but pursed her lips, and said perhaps we should buy some new clothes for my trip to England. She could not have told me off more strongly than that.

There was no time to slim so I went to visit Freddy feeling really bad. He looked more fit and handsome, and more mature. The lovemaking was even more wonderful and I wondered if he had been practising. I could not decide if I wanted it to be true or not. He asked me often if I was all right, obviously sensing I was not.

It was awkward being taken to a restaurant or being served his mother's cooking.

He had only taken two weeks holiday from his job, saving the rest for a week at Christmas. I had an extra week, so visited him at the store where he worked a few times. I could not help noticing how popular he seemed to be with the girls there, including some very pretty ones. With his A-levels he was considered something of an intellectual, and I was told how romantic the French language was.

I went home thoroughly miserable, imagining how disappointed he must have been. I also thought of the girls at his work having secret satisfaction at seeing me fat, and thinking how he had exaggerated my looks. Maman put me on a strict diet, but said I had to eat everything she served, and not cheat. I was bearable by the time I went back to university, and back to my old size by Christmas. However Christmas was anything but happy.

I cannot believe how stupid I was! I was alternately determined to put things right, then thinking my life was ruined so it did not matter. I ended up in bed and had unprotected sex with someone I did not particularly like. When I missed my period, I knew I was doomed.

We cancelled the Christmas visit to Freddy, saying I was unwell, and of course I got best wishes for a recovery from him and his mother and Jim. I cursed myself when it turned out to be a false alarm!

I wanted to visit at Easter, but my parents said I had better try to get my academic performance up.

I got my grades back on track, and went to see Freddy in the summer in a state which Maman approved. Freddy was wonderful both to me and as a person. I could see how much he had given up to support his mother, and realised that the girls at work liked him so much because he was just such a nice person. We agreed to marry the following summer, after I had finished my baccalaureate. My parents said they insisted on paying for Freddy's mother to fly over, along with Jim.

The downside of the holiday was that Freddy's mother had had to give up her job through ill-health, but Jim was now proud to be supporting the family with a job at the same store as Freddy.

I remained faithful through the long, long year that followed. The Christmas visit was overshadowed by Freddy's mother's continued ill-health.

CHAPTER 3

Maybe Maman was right. I had had other men. Not quite the dozen, but at least I would not wonder in later life. Perhaps it would keep me faithful, but I felt guilty. I was sure he could tell, but he has never mentioned it.

The wedding was wonderful, but with one disappointment. Freddy's mother was too ill to fly. Freddy's aunt (his father's sister) had died, and as a successful business woman who had never married, she left her money to her brother's boys. They unanimously agreed to use it to fund their mother's care in a special home where she stayed until she died.

We came over for a honeymoon in London and France, and visited her on the way. I was glad I did because I never saw her again.

Because his mother was now in care, with Jim to visit, Freddy was persuaded to join me in Canada and we both began careers.

He went to his mother's funeral and came back with some astonishing news. Jim was there in a dress, calling himself Jane! He had been the one who had looked after her when the other brothers had left, and somehow he had changed into the daughter she had always wanted. He was now an accountant in an engineering firm in a smart suit, but put on dresses and pretended to be a woman at weekends, but was not gay. I could not understand it, but my parents said it was not so unusual. Cross-dressing gave a lot of men and a few women some satisfaction without doing any harm. Perhaps it had started as a kindness to his mother.

Thinking about how Maman and I enjoyed our clothes, I supposed it was no wonder that some men were envious. He looked very convincing in a photograph, but then he had been rather a pretty boy.

There was a bigger surprise when we went over for the wedding of Tony, the eldest brother, though I had been warned in advance. Tony had actually undergone transgender surgery and was to be the bride. (Now called Toni with an 'i'.) Jim as Jane was there as a bridesmaid along with a woman friend of Toni's both in green dresses, which I recognised as the same from the funeral. The photograph had not done justice to how good Jane looked: she was a pretty woman. The bride looked lovely, of course, but it was still clear that she was a man. However, talking to her, I fully accepted how she had become a wife to her new husband and sincerely wished them well. Jim's wife Nancy told me the story of the green dress which had provoked his transformation. Coincidentally, Toni had started with a similar dress. I also met with Freddy's elder brother Simon, a slightly mysterious character who was believed to be in some special military force, usually undercover.

We took the opportunity to take the Eurostar train through the Channel Tunnel and visited what was now called Disneyland Paris for old times' sake, before having a couple of weeks in our beloved Paris.

CHAPTER 4

In hindsight something had happened, but I did not recognise it till later.

I liked to dress very smartly, like my mother, but for Christmas, Freddy bought me a pink nightdress and panties both of which were so frilly they were silly. For my birthday he bought me lacy set of underwear with suspenders and stockings all covered in lace. Just for him, I got some more foolish lingerie and wore it for his pleasure at weekends and sometimes in the evenings. Maman said men were really little boys, and there was no harm in keeping them entertained in this way.

It was one day when I was being ridiculously feminine that I contrasted it with the styles I preferred and I thought of Jim's wife, Nancy. She was a really elegant and stylish woman with exquisite taste and we had complimented each other quite honestly. I remembered how she said that Jim had started with women's underwear, because they reminded him of his mother and comforted him. A horrifying idea began to form in my mind.

"Do you really want to wear these things? Is that why you buy them for me?"

He went red in the face, but did not answer.

I waited.

Eventually he said "Yes, a bit."

"Have you ever...?"

He hung his head. Of course, that nightdress! It was a bit large for me.

"Tabarnak!" I exclaimed, the strongest swearword I ever utter.

I sent him to shower, and he put in the nightdress and panties, with a mixture of guilt, apology and (I think) relief.

Once I had calmed down, I listened to this man in a pink nightgown tell me that conversations with his brothers had been making him think about lingerie in a different way. He showed me a photo of Toni as a bride actually in underwear. I would have been shocked if it had been a woman: on a man it seemed doubly distasteful.

"Criss!" I said. "Is this what you fantasize about, as well? Where did you get this picture? No, don't tell me, it doesn't matter. Oh."

I paused and then used every swearword I could think of in French and English. He was shocked, and no wonder, but I felt a lot better.

We slept apart that night, him in the nightdress and me in pyjamas. My pillow was very wet.

In the middle of the night I went and hugged him and took him back to bed and we made love.

At breakfast we were silent, but I had to ask him. "Do you have a green dress somewhere?"

It started slowly, but he began to snigger, then laugh, and I was laughing with him.

"No," he said. "I don't want to go out dressed as a woman like Jim and I don't want to be fucked by a man, like Toni. For that matter, I could never be a soldier like Simon."

"I just want to be your husband, and to make love to you and only you for ever and ever. But I do love seeing you in really feminine clothes, and I'm afraid I quite like the clothes myself. Please don't hate me. I'll never do it again."

I was sure he had never been with another woman and was feeling guilty about the fact that I had had sex with others and also had never told him. As Maman had said, some men like to do it, and it causes nobody any harm.

"If you don't want..." he added.

I realised I was crying, and he came over and kissed my eyes.

"I could never hate you," I snivelled. "If it's just a little private thing, then perhaps..."

It wasn't much really. I bought another nightdress and a dozen panties in his size, in different designs and colours with lots of lace, just to wear at home. But more tasteful.

CHAPTER 5

There was a new shop selling vintage (i.e. old) and pre-loved (i.e. second-hand but at rather higher prices than you might expect) clothes. It is a new fashion for some people. As some of the stock was designer, I took an interest, though I could not imagine buying something that some other woman has been sweating in.

Then one day I saw it in the window. A green dress just like Jim had worn at the wedding and which had changed Tony. What was it doing in Canada?

It just might be Freddy's size. I knew I just had to have it!

I rushed in and was faced with a queue, so waited impatiently making plans.

My first thought was to burn it, but on reflection, I would just take it home, cut it up into small pieces and put it in the bin. Even better, I would ask if they had any scissors and do the job immediately!

I know it sounds stupid but I had the thought that these dresses had some strange power to change men into women. Was this one coming to get Freddy, now he was half way there? It was a risk to have it in the same city. It must be destroyed!

Finally, it was my turn and I asked if I could have the green dress in the window.

"Certainly, madame. I'll get it. You can try it on in the cubicle there."

"I don't need to try it; I just need to buy it. How much?"

She told me, and I quickly handed over the notes, not caring that it was very overpriced. She took her time writing out a receipt, asked me if I was sure I did not want to try it on, and I said I was in a hurry so could I have it quickly, please. She sauntered off.

A man and a woman came in and went to the counter. I said the assistant would be back in a moment. She came back with the dress, and the couple looked startled.

"Excuse me," said the woman. "If it doesn't suit you, we'd rather like to try it. I think it's just what we've been looking for." I noticed she said 'we' and the man was smiling a bit desperately.

"I'm sorry," said the assistant, shrugging. "The dress is already sold." And their faces fell.

"Look," I said. "Why don't you try it on. If it fits and your husband likes it, it's yours."

12