Don't Talk to Strangers (nanowrimo post 3)
He didn’t really pay much attention to the show, he was worrying about Kris. He hadn’t done nearly enough to get her ready. The realization was sinking in. The make-up, and the fact R. knew something, though he wasn‘t sure what he knew. That actually scared him more. The fake boobs, him scratching his face. The make-up was not going as well either. No woman he knew ever took so long to put on make-up. He bet he looked as uncomfortable as he felt.
Nope. He needed to do much, much more to pull this off. Just watching the ladies on the screen he knew he couldn’t walk like that, even in his regular shoes. He might be able to get away with flats, but the heels seemed to be more of a “cincher”. Swaying hips and all.
The voice. He’d have to practice that, too.
He had approximately three weeks to either: get good enough at this that the person wouldn’t suspect until they got to their house, or go for someone else as himself. No, that was to risky too, if he got seen again at a suicide? No. Can’t happen.
He had another problem as well. No one usually tells you up front if they have Aids or Hep-C, or any other bloodborne disease. You have to be very careful about asking. Stevie had been up front, adamant about the fact he was clean. He even talked about a couple of scares. That had been a different situation. Stevie had been a three month endeavor. He didn’t have that kind of time, but he also didn’t want to make a stupid mistake because he was rushed.
He turned away from the television, got a pen and paper and made a list. With two sections - one for the store and one to get at work.
Store:
Cartridges
Water balloons
Pudding
Jello
Bra
Pantyhose
Heels?
Work:
Medical tape
Blood bags
You should never write things like blood bags down, but today he was a bit edgy. With the ice cream in his stomach and a new mug of blood he got back onto the computer and ordered two dresses - 
and some black square heels.
He learned that you add two sizes to your male size in women’s shoes, however he doubted shelf-mart carried women’s shoes up to twelves. Couldn’t hurt to look though.
He had his messenger open, and Robert talked to Chris about Manga while he was ordering, there was a new issue of (whichever one Drew said was still going). Salem also messaged, and wanted to “just chat”. Partway through the conversation Kris finally asked if they were a boy or girl.
Kris: You know, you never did tell me whether you were a boy or girl.
Salem: I haven’t?
Kris: No.
Salem: Does it really matter?
Chris thought about that for a second, after all he had Salem thinking he was a girl, a girl named Kris.
Kris: I guess not, it’s just nice to know.
Salem: I was born a girl, but would rather be/feel I am a boy.
Kris: That happens?
Salem: Yes.
Chris had never heard of that.
Kris: So you go out in public as…?
Salem: Male.
Kris: People believe it?
Salem: People believe whatever they need to.
Salem: Damn, G2G, chat later.
It was late and he was spent. He signed off the computer and crawled into bed.
His alarm woke him from a strange memory dream. Being chased by bullies when he was around ten, because he’d taken a dare to kiss Bobby Mackelroy behind the bleachers. The dream wasn’t right though. Wrong town, wrong bullies. Weird. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as he played out the memory in his head. They’d caught up with him at smoker’s corner and Stew had given him a black eye. They yelled things at him: fag, pussy, queer, dirty homo, sissy, cock swallower, butt pirate. The big kids, high school age, just watched, except for Adam. He came over and told them to stop, that he knew every one of their mothers and would tell. They believed him. Adam walked him home. Didn’t even ask why they were chasing him, just told him it would all be O.K. and things were bound to change. He had a time explaining the shiner to Mother. He didn’t even know what half those slurs were, but she did! He had his mouth washed out with soap for even repeating them.
He wondered what had become of Adam, he’d seen him two or three times that year, he always smiled at him and waved. His mother didn’t like that. “He is far too old for you to be friends with Chris, I don’t like it.” But then she didn’t like anything. To even be called those things, when all he’d done was take a dare. Stupid ten year old self. He hated him. The kids never let go of that one time, no matter what he did.
That was also the year he’d become friends with friend3. He guessed it wasn’t all that bad. He called him.
Friend3: Hey Chris, what’s up?
Chris: Had a dream about Stew, Bobby McElroy, and Adam.
Friend3: Fuck, that was a long time ago. Why would you dream of that?
Chris: I have no idea, can we go do something soon?
Frind3: Sure, how about Friday night, hit the bar, play some pool or something?
Chris: That sounds good.
Frind3: You know, none of them still live here. Except for Adam.
Chris: He does?
Frind3: Yeah over on Elm, don’t know that he’d remember us though.
Chris: Probably not.
They talked for awhile, Friend3 could always be counted on for that. He never got mad that Chris didn’t call every day, or every week even. No matter how much time passed they just picked up right where they left off. Might have something to do with Mother not letting him talk to him when they were young.
He went to the fridge and realized the milk was sour. He dumped it down the sink. He was also out of eggs. He made bacon and toast. Which was also the last of those. He’d clearly been distracted, he added them to the list from yesterday. He practically slammed his mug of blood as he was getting ready for work. Last day of the work week, then three days of planning.
Work was steady, he managed to sneak two more blood bags, and the adhesive tape. That he just outright put in his pocket. He could have bought it, but this was wider than what they had at the store, and stronger.
After work he drove to another shelf-mart, this one in a town he’d never even been to. The only reason he knew it was there was because he’d seen a sign on the highway. He went for the groceries first. Milk, eggs, bacon, bread. Those things are easy to find. Shelf-marts are arranged pretty much the same everywhere you go. Now jello and pudding, he’d have to look for those. If he did buy them he bought pre-packed ones. He needed the boxed ones. They had just gelatin too. He figured buying flavored would look more normal though. That and if there was too much, or he didn’t like the way it came out he could eat it. He grabbed a couple cherry jellos and a chocolate and vanilla pudding.
He went over to toys, after what seemed like every aisle of dolls, cars, games, and infant toys. He found water balloons. The ones that looked like grenades were what he wanted, but he wasn’t sure about the dark green under clothing. He grabbed a multi-color pack, it looked to have some white and peach-ish ones in it.
Now to the part he had no idea about. Pantyhose. He’d seen them on women sure, but had never been around for them putting them on, or taking them off. In the porn Frind3 had shared, they either had thigh highs that just kind of delicately slipped off, or none at all.
He found the lingerie department, he found the hose. But the sizes were confusing. A, B, Q, and colors. Beige, navy, white, nude, black, and opaque - what the hell is that?, and why nude. Wouldn’t you just…not wear them? He picked up a pair of them anyway, there was a chart on the back. It said what to buy for height and weight. It appeared he would need either As or Bs, he was right at the line. He chose Bs, and put two packages in the cart. He also picked out an opaque pair. Just to see what they even were.
The bra on the other hand, how on earth did you even choose? Lacey, racy, prim, sports bras, push-up bra’s, nursing bras. They were all huge. He realized he was in women’s. He needed juniors. The lady at the last shelf-mart had told him that. He walked around to the other side of the display. Much better, though it looked like Hannah Montana had exploded into the section. He knew he needed something smaller than mothers. Hers had been a C, 36.
Though he had no idea what that actually meant. He looked at some labels. And stopped abruptly when he heard someone else in the section.
“Looking for something for someone special?”
The sales woman smiled at him. She looked to be around 40. He nametag said Debbie.
Chris stuttered “Uh, Uh, yeah girlfriends birthday.”
“Oh, how nice, something sexy ?” she gave him a knowing wink.
Chris: “Well actually, I wanted a matching bra and panties set.”
“Oh, how sweet.”
Why did he say that, he didn’t need panties!
“Well, do you know what size she is?”
“Not, not really, we share shirts.”
The sales woman laughed.
“Well honey, sharing shirts with a girl is slightly different than sharing with guys!”
“Let me ask you this” she grabbed his hand. ”How much of your hand does she fill?”
This woman is brave, Chris thought. But he answered.
“Uhm, three-quarters of it?”
Debbie looked at Chris’s hands and then took a B-sized cup off the rack and put it in his hand.
“That about right?”
Chris had no idea. This lie was coming undone. He said “I’m not sure, what, what size are you, if, if you don’t mind.”
He sounded like an idiot.
Debbie laughed. “Just a C honey. If she’s my size and you share shirts you’d get them back stretched!”
“Oh, yeah. They don’t come back stretched.”
Debbie then said “Is she skinnier than you , I’m assuming she’s shorter.”
“She’s a bit shorter, but no we actually have pretty much the same build.”
Debbie undid the bra and wrapped it around Chris’s torso, he was so surprised he couldn’t even object. What if someone saw?!
Debbie giggled and said “Oh, don’t get so red, I was just checking the measurement. You’ll need a 32.”
So now he knew what the numbers were. Just then Debbie got paged to come to the checkout and help. Chris was glad. He was a little tired of the closeness, and he wanted to look in peace.
There were some really cute things, ones with paisley’s, polka dots, lace. Plain ones, like Mother’s. He chose two fairly innocent looking ones, a white eyelet one, and a beige one. It was then he realized the one dress he purchased the straps would show. Shit. He’d worry about it later.
He put them in the cart and went to shoes. He was right, no women’s twelves, they had three pairs of elevens, he felt sorry for the women who actually had that size of feet.
Onto sporting goods, he had to look awhile to find the .308 cartridges. They were on the bottom, and almost gone. Well, it was hunting season. He grabbed two boxes.
On the way to the checkout he passed jewelry, and saw clip-on earring on clearance. Dangly silver things. And some big round things that looked like brooches. He picked up the dangly ones. Chris looked around, to make sure no one was watching, and put them up to his ear in the mirror. They might look nice. He put them in the cart.
On the way to the checkout he looked over the candy display. He remembered his first trip to the store after he’d moved out. He’d bought so much candy! He’d gone home and gorged on it until he had the worst stomach ache. But it had been worth it. He grabbed a Snickers.
He chose a checkout with a girl, not even realizing it was Debbie. She didn’t say anything about the bras, but asked “No panties for her?”
“I changed my mind.”
“Well, we all can do that.”
When she got to the earrings she said “Oh, these are lovely, she’ll like these I’m sure.”
“I hope so.”
It was nice to have some reassurance on the earrings, Chris had never been shopping for a girl before. Even if the girl was him.
He paid and Debbie said. “Have a nice day.”
They are all taught that though. Because it wasn’t exactly day, it was one in the morning.
On the way home Chris thought of making out with Cindy. He didn’t know why, maybe because of the fake girlfriend he’d created for Debbie. He’d liked Cindy, but like most people, the days and nights thing created big problems. They’d lasted about two months. But he remembered some little things she did, playing with his leg, her pretty mouth, her giggle. He needed that kind of allure for Kris. He sighed and pulled into the drive. He pulled the bags into the house and set them on the table, he noticed the answering machine was blinking. It was friend3. Why had he called the house? He had his cell. He pressed play:
“Hey, tried the cell, no signal. Anyway, just wanted to let you know I can’t go out Friday. Work. Sorry dude. Some other time. Bye.”
Though he had wanted to see him, that gave him more time to work on Kris. He’d need it.
He put the groceries away and decided to build up some trust in the chat room. Salem, Sarah, and R. were there. It seemed to be a regular one for them. He tried to punctuate things with giggles, and smilies. He mentioned that he’d, or Kris rather ”bought herself some pretty new earrings”. One thing about text chat, you have a bit of time to concentrate on the right pronoun.
Salem and Sarah both asked for a picture of her in them. SHIT.
Kris: Maybe later, I’m in my nightie right now.
(Girls say nightie, right?)
Hector: But aren’t you usually up now?
Salem: You’ve never gotten up and not changed?
Sarah: That is nice
Kris: Yeah, that’s exactly what I did.
(Whew!)
Kris: Anyway I have some other things to do, some day off. Maybe I’ll show you later.
He signed off. He did have some other things to do. If he was going to go all evening without scratching his face off, playing with his wig a million times, adjusting his boobs, and picking at his ears. He needed to wear it for awhile. He went and locked all the doors. Grabbed the bag with the bras, nylons, and earrings and put in on his mother's bed. He’d need her full length mirror. Her thoughts on this were ‘even though vanity is a sin, you still have to make sure you look alright to leave the house‘.
He started with the make-up. The foundation went a bit faster this time, as did the blush. The eyeliner, still a bit smudgy, and the eye shadow, uneven. He tried a lighter lipstick this time, because R. seemed to think it was important enough to message him about it. He looked in the mirror. He almost looked pretty. He decided he didn’t even need the mascara, though he was blonde his lashes were dark and full. He went and got the dress, he really shouldn’t have left it in a heap on the floor. He shook it out and decided maybe a few minutes in the dryer would freshen it up.
He took it down to the dryer in the basement, on the way back up he stopped in the kitchen. He took out the balloons, the jello, and the pudding. The jello you had to boil, then let set up. UGH. The pudding; however, was instant. Though he had no idea how much it made. He decided he’d mix it in a bowl and then funnel it into the balloons. This was not as easy as it sounds. He should have made it in a pitcher, trying to hold a bowl and pour it, while holding a very unforgiving water balloon onto a funnel doesn’t really work. By the time he moved the mix to a pitcher and started again. The pudding was practically set up . He also realized that he’d have to stretch the balloon first. Just pouring from a pitcher wasn’t enough pressure. The sloppy mess on the floor was proof of that. He mopped it up with a towel.
He threw the bowl of wasted pudding in the fridge and grabbed another empty bowl. He would try the rice next. That went much smoother, he decided two cups of rice for each. He took them upstairs to Mother’s room. He stripped down to his skivies and took the tags off the white bra. He put it on like a shirt, for some reason he thought that wasn’t quite right. It was..itchy, and the straps needed adjusted. He took it off and made them longer, then put it back on. Now for the rice balloons. He’d made them far too large, they hung out of the bra like ooze. He looked in the mirror and laughed. Here he was his face made-up, in his underwear, with a bra on that had far too much boob in it. The lady at the store was right though. Anything larger would have really looked out of proportion.
He pulled out the rice balloons and went down to the kitchen. This time he made ones with one cup of rice in them. The other he put in the cupboard. Pre-portioned for dinner sometime.
He went back up and put the balloons in the bra, the weight pulled on the straps, not much but enough that he thought: Women have to deal with this every day of their life?
The dryer buzzed, he went down for the dress and pulled it over his head, not realizing it would mess up his face. He went back up to put on the wig and saw it. Well, shit. So much for that idea. He went to the bathroom, and tried to fix it, but just ended up making it worse. He gave up, washed his face with the cold cream and started over. It only took about half as long this time. He’d figure out how to get the make-up out of the dress later. It was a good thing it was cheap.
Back to the mirror, he now had make-up, a dress and boobs. A strange girl with short cropped hair looked back at him. Was he really doing this? He grabbed the hose for his head, it had run. He’d have to buy some knee highs. But for now it would do. He pulled the wig on and arranged it. Next the earrings. OUCH! Clip-ons? Try pinchers! He played with them until they weren’t quite so painful. He looked in the mirror, and got a hard on. What The Hell! Though he had to admit he was quite pretty. Then he noticed his nails, he bit them and they were dirty. No woman he knew had nails like that. His mother had polish he was sure. He looked on her dresser, a light red, that would do but first he had to clean them. Back to the bathroom. He vigorously rubbed the nail brush into them, his fingers were red but clean.
He’d never painted nails before, what a sloppy mess, over the edges and far too thick. That would take some practice too.
He also didn’t have the foresight to think about them drying. He got polish on everything, and smudged them badly. He was getting frustrated, he slammed the medicine cabinet door after he found the polish remover. He opened it and…Oh! it stunk to high heaven, was it because it was old? He didn’t know. He cleaned the polish off, dried his nails, and started again. Not perfect but better this time.
When they finally dried, which seemed to take eons, he decided to try the pantyhose. He had no idea how those went on either. He tried to put them on like pants, bouncing around the room on one foot and then the other. He ripped a giant hole in the first pair. Hmm, well that wasn’t right. He thought a minute. The second pair he stretched the right leg over his right foot like a sock and got it halfway up his leg, but then when he went to put the left foot on he tripped over himself and ripped them as well. He thought: How on earth do women do this? He decided he’d better go down and see if there was anything that could help him on the internet, he only had one pair left.
The third video he found was excellent, and the young woman putting them on was very pretty. He watched it twice.
Back upstairs, he grabbed one of his mother's pairs, this was going to take more practice that he’d thought. So apparently you have to scrunch the foot of one, put it on halfway up your leg, then scrunch the other, put it on the other leg and them pull them up. Easy, right? Wrong. He sat down and fumbled for a good twenty minutes trying to get past the scrunch up the second foot and put it on the other leg step. When he finally did get that leg in and started to pull them up, he snagged it with his nails. He thought: OH MY GOD! This can’t be this difficult. He finished pulling them up, they felt tight on his legs, and his hair was poking through. That just looked silly. He’d shave later though. He just wasn’t in the mood for another first right now.
He spent the rest of the day as Kris, and tried to stay conscious of how many times he had to adjust his boobs, his wig, or played with the damn earrings. His poor ears, they were so red! He took of the earrings almost immediately. But each time he put them back on he lasted slightly longer.
He also noticed something else, when he looked a Kris in the mirror, he didn’t even see the Adam’s apple. It was like the rest of the get-up cancelled it out. This was good. He also tried to practice swaying his hips. He tried to be “dainty” with his hands. While carrying the laundry down, feeding the cat, while making lunch, cleaning the bathroom, cleaning the back of the chair with the shop vac (he actually tripped over the dress several times while trying to accomplish that one) and again at dinner.
He had to make this work. The strange thing was it wasn’t bothering him like it had before. Was he liking this? Granted it was something his mother was completely against, so that he was sure was some of it. But somewhere deep in the back of his mind there was something else…
NO! he was not gay, no way, Nuh-uh. Besides, not all gays dressed like women. (Did they?) This was a means to an end.
He went over to the computer and set up the camera. The first picture made him realize he needed to touch up his make-up. He’d eaten off the lipstick, and rubbed his left eye sometime and the shadow was gone. He definitely needed to be more aware of what he was doing with his hands and his face. He went up and “fixed his face”. His ears were also noticeable red from the earrings. He again took them off for a few minutes. The whole reason to take the picture was to show the earrings. He rubbed them, how on earth was he going to wear these things for a whole evening?
He went for mug of blood, he hadn’t been rationing it and the bag showed. It was only about quarter full of blood bags now. He had to speed the farce along, somehow.
He got onto the internet and checked his Chris messages. Robert, telling him to go buy the new issue of AP. Mady, saying she was sorry she’d missed him the other night, and Kay wanting to “chat soon” about “whatever”.
He felt his ears, not so red now. He put the earrings on and turned on the camera. This picture was much better. He looked good. It was a head shot, to show off the earrings. He’d worry about a picture with the boobs when he was more sure of them. They seemed, saggy, somehow.
He uploaded it and went into the local friends chat.
Kris: Hey, everyone, these are my new earrings!
Edi: Pretty.
Salem: They look really nice on you.
Sarah: Silver is your color, new lipstick too?
Kris: No, just a different color.
R. It’s better.
Iantric: They look fantastic, wearing them for anyone?
Ash: New earrings to get you laid, huh Kris?
Kris: Would they? *giggles*
Kris: Have we met Ash?
Ash: We have now.
Kris: So we have.
Ash: You’re pretty.
(She thinks I’m a girl , yes!)
Kris: *blush* Thanks.
He looked at her picture, he hadn’t known how to do that before.
Kris: To answer you Ian, no, but I might go to the bar tomorrow.
Iantric: I see.
A private message from R.
R.: You aren’t ready for a bar.
Kris: Why?
R. You still look too Christian.
Kris: And you suggest?
R. Sexier dress, brighter colours in your make-up. The earrings are O.K.
Kris: What do you mean by “ready” anyway.
R. I know a trap when I see one.
Kris: A trap?
R. A pretty girl that when you get her home is a guy.
(Shit, now what did he do?)
Kris: What makes you think that I’m not a girl!
R. I just know. Don’t worry, not going to out you. Unless you make me have to.
Kris: Thanks?
He got no answer. R. was so hard to read. But he knew, he also seemed to know that most wouldn’t. This was strangely comforting.
He’d been answering the regular chat in between, but hadn’t really been paying much attention to it.
Sarah: Kris, do you have a secret admirer or something? Answer me please.
Kris: Huh sorry, got distracted. What was the question?
Sarah: I asked if you had a boyfriend, to show the earrings to.
Kris: *blush* Ha ha, no.
Ash: We may have to fix that.
Edi: Yes, we should, you are a pretty girl Kris.
Kris *blushes again* awww, thanks Edi.
He chose to ignore his misgivings R. had created. These two bought it.
Iantric: I’m surprised you don’t.
Huluman: Hey everyone. Whoo! Spiffy earrings Kris.
Kris: Thanks
They chatted about other things for almost two hours. Chris was getting sleepy. He told them all good bye, it was a very nice chat room. Iantric and Salem seemed most open to getting to know Kris better. He’d chat them up tomorrow. R. knew more than he was comfortable with. Better stay on his good side, if there was a good side.
Nope. He needed to do much, much more to pull this off. Just watching the ladies on the screen he knew he couldn’t walk like that, even in his regular shoes. He might be able to get away with flats, but the heels seemed to be more of a “cincher”. Swaying hips and all.
The voice. He’d have to practice that, too.
He had approximately three weeks to either: get good enough at this that the person wouldn’t suspect until they got to their house, or go for someone else as himself. No, that was to risky too, if he got seen again at a suicide? No. Can’t happen.
He had another problem as well. No one usually tells you up front if they have Aids or Hep-C, or any other bloodborne disease. You have to be very careful about asking. Stevie had been up front, adamant about the fact he was clean. He even talked about a couple of scares. That had been a different situation. Stevie had been a three month endeavor. He didn’t have that kind of time, but he also didn’t want to make a stupid mistake because he was rushed.
He turned away from the television, got a pen and paper and made a list. With two sections - one for the store and one to get at work.
Store:
Cartridges
Water balloons
Pudding
Jello
Bra
Pantyhose
Heels?
Work:
Medical tape
Blood bags
You should never write things like blood bags down, but today he was a bit edgy. With the ice cream in his stomach and a new mug of blood he got back onto the computer and ordered two dresses - 
and some black square heels.
He learned that you add two sizes to your male size in women’s shoes, however he doubted shelf-mart carried women’s shoes up to twelves. Couldn’t hurt to look though.
He had his messenger open, and Robert talked to Chris about Manga while he was ordering, there was a new issue of (whichever one Drew said was still going). Salem also messaged, and wanted to “just chat”. Partway through the conversation Kris finally asked if they were a boy or girl.
Kris: You know, you never did tell me whether you were a boy or girl.
Salem: I haven’t?
Kris: No.
Salem: Does it really matter?
Chris thought about that for a second, after all he had Salem thinking he was a girl, a girl named Kris.
Kris: I guess not, it’s just nice to know.
Salem: I was born a girl, but would rather be/feel I am a boy.
Kris: That happens?
Salem: Yes.
Chris had never heard of that.
Kris: So you go out in public as…?
Salem: Male.
Kris: People believe it?
Salem: People believe whatever they need to.
Salem: Damn, G2G, chat later.
It was late and he was spent. He signed off the computer and crawled into bed.
His alarm woke him from a strange memory dream. Being chased by bullies when he was around ten, because he’d taken a dare to kiss Bobby Mackelroy behind the bleachers. The dream wasn’t right though. Wrong town, wrong bullies. Weird. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as he played out the memory in his head. They’d caught up with him at smoker’s corner and Stew had given him a black eye. They yelled things at him: fag, pussy, queer, dirty homo, sissy, cock swallower, butt pirate. The big kids, high school age, just watched, except for Adam. He came over and told them to stop, that he knew every one of their mothers and would tell. They believed him. Adam walked him home. Didn’t even ask why they were chasing him, just told him it would all be O.K. and things were bound to change. He had a time explaining the shiner to Mother. He didn’t even know what half those slurs were, but she did! He had his mouth washed out with soap for even repeating them.
He wondered what had become of Adam, he’d seen him two or three times that year, he always smiled at him and waved. His mother didn’t like that. “He is far too old for you to be friends with Chris, I don’t like it.” But then she didn’t like anything. To even be called those things, when all he’d done was take a dare. Stupid ten year old self. He hated him. The kids never let go of that one time, no matter what he did.
That was also the year he’d become friends with friend3. He guessed it wasn’t all that bad. He called him.
Friend3: Hey Chris, what’s up?
Chris: Had a dream about Stew, Bobby McElroy, and Adam.
Friend3: Fuck, that was a long time ago. Why would you dream of that?
Chris: I have no idea, can we go do something soon?
Frind3: Sure, how about Friday night, hit the bar, play some pool or something?
Chris: That sounds good.
Frind3: You know, none of them still live here. Except for Adam.
Chris: He does?
Frind3: Yeah over on Elm, don’t know that he’d remember us though.
Chris: Probably not.
They talked for awhile, Friend3 could always be counted on for that. He never got mad that Chris didn’t call every day, or every week even. No matter how much time passed they just picked up right where they left off. Might have something to do with Mother not letting him talk to him when they were young.
He went to the fridge and realized the milk was sour. He dumped it down the sink. He was also out of eggs. He made bacon and toast. Which was also the last of those. He’d clearly been distracted, he added them to the list from yesterday. He practically slammed his mug of blood as he was getting ready for work. Last day of the work week, then three days of planning.
Work was steady, he managed to sneak two more blood bags, and the adhesive tape. That he just outright put in his pocket. He could have bought it, but this was wider than what they had at the store, and stronger.
After work he drove to another shelf-mart, this one in a town he’d never even been to. The only reason he knew it was there was because he’d seen a sign on the highway. He went for the groceries first. Milk, eggs, bacon, bread. Those things are easy to find. Shelf-marts are arranged pretty much the same everywhere you go. Now jello and pudding, he’d have to look for those. If he did buy them he bought pre-packed ones. He needed the boxed ones. They had just gelatin too. He figured buying flavored would look more normal though. That and if there was too much, or he didn’t like the way it came out he could eat it. He grabbed a couple cherry jellos and a chocolate and vanilla pudding.
He went over to toys, after what seemed like every aisle of dolls, cars, games, and infant toys. He found water balloons. The ones that looked like grenades were what he wanted, but he wasn’t sure about the dark green under clothing. He grabbed a multi-color pack, it looked to have some white and peach-ish ones in it.
Now to the part he had no idea about. Pantyhose. He’d seen them on women sure, but had never been around for them putting them on, or taking them off. In the porn Frind3 had shared, they either had thigh highs that just kind of delicately slipped off, or none at all.
He found the lingerie department, he found the hose. But the sizes were confusing. A, B, Q, and colors. Beige, navy, white, nude, black, and opaque - what the hell is that?, and why nude. Wouldn’t you just…not wear them? He picked up a pair of them anyway, there was a chart on the back. It said what to buy for height and weight. It appeared he would need either As or Bs, he was right at the line. He chose Bs, and put two packages in the cart. He also picked out an opaque pair. Just to see what they even were.
The bra on the other hand, how on earth did you even choose? Lacey, racy, prim, sports bras, push-up bra’s, nursing bras. They were all huge. He realized he was in women’s. He needed juniors. The lady at the last shelf-mart had told him that. He walked around to the other side of the display. Much better, though it looked like Hannah Montana had exploded into the section. He knew he needed something smaller than mothers. Hers had been a C, 36.
Though he had no idea what that actually meant. He looked at some labels. And stopped abruptly when he heard someone else in the section.
“Looking for something for someone special?”
The sales woman smiled at him. She looked to be around 40. He nametag said Debbie.
Chris stuttered “Uh, Uh, yeah girlfriends birthday.”
“Oh, how nice, something sexy ?” she gave him a knowing wink.
Chris: “Well actually, I wanted a matching bra and panties set.”
“Oh, how sweet.”
Why did he say that, he didn’t need panties!
“Well, do you know what size she is?”
“Not, not really, we share shirts.”
The sales woman laughed.
“Well honey, sharing shirts with a girl is slightly different than sharing with guys!”
“Let me ask you this” she grabbed his hand. ”How much of your hand does she fill?”
This woman is brave, Chris thought. But he answered.
“Uhm, three-quarters of it?”
Debbie looked at Chris’s hands and then took a B-sized cup off the rack and put it in his hand.
“That about right?”
Chris had no idea. This lie was coming undone. He said “I’m not sure, what, what size are you, if, if you don’t mind.”
He sounded like an idiot.
Debbie laughed. “Just a C honey. If she’s my size and you share shirts you’d get them back stretched!”
“Oh, yeah. They don’t come back stretched.”
Debbie then said “Is she skinnier than you , I’m assuming she’s shorter.”
“She’s a bit shorter, but no we actually have pretty much the same build.”
Debbie undid the bra and wrapped it around Chris’s torso, he was so surprised he couldn’t even object. What if someone saw?!
Debbie giggled and said “Oh, don’t get so red, I was just checking the measurement. You’ll need a 32.”
So now he knew what the numbers were. Just then Debbie got paged to come to the checkout and help. Chris was glad. He was a little tired of the closeness, and he wanted to look in peace.
There were some really cute things, ones with paisley’s, polka dots, lace. Plain ones, like Mother’s. He chose two fairly innocent looking ones, a white eyelet one, and a beige one. It was then he realized the one dress he purchased the straps would show. Shit. He’d worry about it later.
He put them in the cart and went to shoes. He was right, no women’s twelves, they had three pairs of elevens, he felt sorry for the women who actually had that size of feet.
Onto sporting goods, he had to look awhile to find the .308 cartridges. They were on the bottom, and almost gone. Well, it was hunting season. He grabbed two boxes.
On the way to the checkout he passed jewelry, and saw clip-on earring on clearance. Dangly silver things. And some big round things that looked like brooches. He picked up the dangly ones. Chris looked around, to make sure no one was watching, and put them up to his ear in the mirror. They might look nice. He put them in the cart.
On the way to the checkout he looked over the candy display. He remembered his first trip to the store after he’d moved out. He’d bought so much candy! He’d gone home and gorged on it until he had the worst stomach ache. But it had been worth it. He grabbed a Snickers.
He chose a checkout with a girl, not even realizing it was Debbie. She didn’t say anything about the bras, but asked “No panties for her?”
“I changed my mind.”
“Well, we all can do that.”
When she got to the earrings she said “Oh, these are lovely, she’ll like these I’m sure.”
“I hope so.”
It was nice to have some reassurance on the earrings, Chris had never been shopping for a girl before. Even if the girl was him.
He paid and Debbie said. “Have a nice day.”
They are all taught that though. Because it wasn’t exactly day, it was one in the morning.
On the way home Chris thought of making out with Cindy. He didn’t know why, maybe because of the fake girlfriend he’d created for Debbie. He’d liked Cindy, but like most people, the days and nights thing created big problems. They’d lasted about two months. But he remembered some little things she did, playing with his leg, her pretty mouth, her giggle. He needed that kind of allure for Kris. He sighed and pulled into the drive. He pulled the bags into the house and set them on the table, he noticed the answering machine was blinking. It was friend3. Why had he called the house? He had his cell. He pressed play:
“Hey, tried the cell, no signal. Anyway, just wanted to let you know I can’t go out Friday. Work. Sorry dude. Some other time. Bye.”
Though he had wanted to see him, that gave him more time to work on Kris. He’d need it.
He put the groceries away and decided to build up some trust in the chat room. Salem, Sarah, and R. were there. It seemed to be a regular one for them. He tried to punctuate things with giggles, and smilies. He mentioned that he’d, or Kris rather ”bought herself some pretty new earrings”. One thing about text chat, you have a bit of time to concentrate on the right pronoun.
Salem and Sarah both asked for a picture of her in them. SHIT.
Kris: Maybe later, I’m in my nightie right now.
(Girls say nightie, right?)
Hector: But aren’t you usually up now?
Salem: You’ve never gotten up and not changed?
Sarah: That is nice
Kris: Yeah, that’s exactly what I did.
(Whew!)
Kris: Anyway I have some other things to do, some day off. Maybe I’ll show you later.
He signed off. He did have some other things to do. If he was going to go all evening without scratching his face off, playing with his wig a million times, adjusting his boobs, and picking at his ears. He needed to wear it for awhile. He went and locked all the doors. Grabbed the bag with the bras, nylons, and earrings and put in on his mother's bed. He’d need her full length mirror. Her thoughts on this were ‘even though vanity is a sin, you still have to make sure you look alright to leave the house‘.
He started with the make-up. The foundation went a bit faster this time, as did the blush. The eyeliner, still a bit smudgy, and the eye shadow, uneven. He tried a lighter lipstick this time, because R. seemed to think it was important enough to message him about it. He looked in the mirror. He almost looked pretty. He decided he didn’t even need the mascara, though he was blonde his lashes were dark and full. He went and got the dress, he really shouldn’t have left it in a heap on the floor. He shook it out and decided maybe a few minutes in the dryer would freshen it up.
He took it down to the dryer in the basement, on the way back up he stopped in the kitchen. He took out the balloons, the jello, and the pudding. The jello you had to boil, then let set up. UGH. The pudding; however, was instant. Though he had no idea how much it made. He decided he’d mix it in a bowl and then funnel it into the balloons. This was not as easy as it sounds. He should have made it in a pitcher, trying to hold a bowl and pour it, while holding a very unforgiving water balloon onto a funnel doesn’t really work. By the time he moved the mix to a pitcher and started again. The pudding was practically set up . He also realized that he’d have to stretch the balloon first. Just pouring from a pitcher wasn’t enough pressure. The sloppy mess on the floor was proof of that. He mopped it up with a towel.
He threw the bowl of wasted pudding in the fridge and grabbed another empty bowl. He would try the rice next. That went much smoother, he decided two cups of rice for each. He took them upstairs to Mother’s room. He stripped down to his skivies and took the tags off the white bra. He put it on like a shirt, for some reason he thought that wasn’t quite right. It was..itchy, and the straps needed adjusted. He took it off and made them longer, then put it back on. Now for the rice balloons. He’d made them far too large, they hung out of the bra like ooze. He looked in the mirror and laughed. Here he was his face made-up, in his underwear, with a bra on that had far too much boob in it. The lady at the store was right though. Anything larger would have really looked out of proportion.
He pulled out the rice balloons and went down to the kitchen. This time he made ones with one cup of rice in them. The other he put in the cupboard. Pre-portioned for dinner sometime.
He went back up and put the balloons in the bra, the weight pulled on the straps, not much but enough that he thought: Women have to deal with this every day of their life?
The dryer buzzed, he went down for the dress and pulled it over his head, not realizing it would mess up his face. He went back up to put on the wig and saw it. Well, shit. So much for that idea. He went to the bathroom, and tried to fix it, but just ended up making it worse. He gave up, washed his face with the cold cream and started over. It only took about half as long this time. He’d figure out how to get the make-up out of the dress later. It was a good thing it was cheap.
Back to the mirror, he now had make-up, a dress and boobs. A strange girl with short cropped hair looked back at him. Was he really doing this? He grabbed the hose for his head, it had run. He’d have to buy some knee highs. But for now it would do. He pulled the wig on and arranged it. Next the earrings. OUCH! Clip-ons? Try pinchers! He played with them until they weren’t quite so painful. He looked in the mirror, and got a hard on. What The Hell! Though he had to admit he was quite pretty. Then he noticed his nails, he bit them and they were dirty. No woman he knew had nails like that. His mother had polish he was sure. He looked on her dresser, a light red, that would do but first he had to clean them. Back to the bathroom. He vigorously rubbed the nail brush into them, his fingers were red but clean.
He’d never painted nails before, what a sloppy mess, over the edges and far too thick. That would take some practice too.
He also didn’t have the foresight to think about them drying. He got polish on everything, and smudged them badly. He was getting frustrated, he slammed the medicine cabinet door after he found the polish remover. He opened it and…Oh! it stunk to high heaven, was it because it was old? He didn’t know. He cleaned the polish off, dried his nails, and started again. Not perfect but better this time.
When they finally dried, which seemed to take eons, he decided to try the pantyhose. He had no idea how those went on either. He tried to put them on like pants, bouncing around the room on one foot and then the other. He ripped a giant hole in the first pair. Hmm, well that wasn’t right. He thought a minute. The second pair he stretched the right leg over his right foot like a sock and got it halfway up his leg, but then when he went to put the left foot on he tripped over himself and ripped them as well. He thought: How on earth do women do this? He decided he’d better go down and see if there was anything that could help him on the internet, he only had one pair left.
The third video he found was excellent, and the young woman putting them on was very pretty. He watched it twice.
Back upstairs, he grabbed one of his mother's pairs, this was going to take more practice that he’d thought. So apparently you have to scrunch the foot of one, put it on halfway up your leg, then scrunch the other, put it on the other leg and them pull them up. Easy, right? Wrong. He sat down and fumbled for a good twenty minutes trying to get past the scrunch up the second foot and put it on the other leg step. When he finally did get that leg in and started to pull them up, he snagged it with his nails. He thought: OH MY GOD! This can’t be this difficult. He finished pulling them up, they felt tight on his legs, and his hair was poking through. That just looked silly. He’d shave later though. He just wasn’t in the mood for another first right now.
He spent the rest of the day as Kris, and tried to stay conscious of how many times he had to adjust his boobs, his wig, or played with the damn earrings. His poor ears, they were so red! He took of the earrings almost immediately. But each time he put them back on he lasted slightly longer.
He also noticed something else, when he looked a Kris in the mirror, he didn’t even see the Adam’s apple. It was like the rest of the get-up cancelled it out. This was good. He also tried to practice swaying his hips. He tried to be “dainty” with his hands. While carrying the laundry down, feeding the cat, while making lunch, cleaning the bathroom, cleaning the back of the chair with the shop vac (he actually tripped over the dress several times while trying to accomplish that one) and again at dinner.
He had to make this work. The strange thing was it wasn’t bothering him like it had before. Was he liking this? Granted it was something his mother was completely against, so that he was sure was some of it. But somewhere deep in the back of his mind there was something else…
NO! he was not gay, no way, Nuh-uh. Besides, not all gays dressed like women. (Did they?) This was a means to an end.
He went over to the computer and set up the camera. The first picture made him realize he needed to touch up his make-up. He’d eaten off the lipstick, and rubbed his left eye sometime and the shadow was gone. He definitely needed to be more aware of what he was doing with his hands and his face. He went up and “fixed his face”. His ears were also noticeable red from the earrings. He again took them off for a few minutes. The whole reason to take the picture was to show the earrings. He rubbed them, how on earth was he going to wear these things for a whole evening?
He went for mug of blood, he hadn’t been rationing it and the bag showed. It was only about quarter full of blood bags now. He had to speed the farce along, somehow.
He got onto the internet and checked his Chris messages. Robert, telling him to go buy the new issue of AP. Mady, saying she was sorry she’d missed him the other night, and Kay wanting to “chat soon” about “whatever”.
He felt his ears, not so red now. He put the earrings on and turned on the camera. This picture was much better. He looked good. It was a head shot, to show off the earrings. He’d worry about a picture with the boobs when he was more sure of them. They seemed, saggy, somehow.
He uploaded it and went into the local friends chat.
Kris: Hey, everyone, these are my new earrings!
Edi: Pretty.
Salem: They look really nice on you.
Sarah: Silver is your color, new lipstick too?
Kris: No, just a different color.
R. It’s better.
Iantric: They look fantastic, wearing them for anyone?
Ash: New earrings to get you laid, huh Kris?
Kris: Would they? *giggles*
Kris: Have we met Ash?
Ash: We have now.
Kris: So we have.
Ash: You’re pretty.
(She thinks I’m a girl , yes!)
Kris: *blush* Thanks.
He looked at her picture, he hadn’t known how to do that before.
Kris: To answer you Ian, no, but I might go to the bar tomorrow.
Iantric: I see.
A private message from R.
R.: You aren’t ready for a bar.
Kris: Why?
R. You still look too Christian.
Kris: And you suggest?
R. Sexier dress, brighter colours in your make-up. The earrings are O.K.
Kris: What do you mean by “ready” anyway.
R. I know a trap when I see one.
Kris: A trap?
R. A pretty girl that when you get her home is a guy.
(Shit, now what did he do?)
Kris: What makes you think that I’m not a girl!
R. I just know. Don’t worry, not going to out you. Unless you make me have to.
Kris: Thanks?
He got no answer. R. was so hard to read. But he knew, he also seemed to know that most wouldn’t. This was strangely comforting.
He’d been answering the regular chat in between, but hadn’t really been paying much attention to it.
Sarah: Kris, do you have a secret admirer or something? Answer me please.
Kris: Huh sorry, got distracted. What was the question?
Sarah: I asked if you had a boyfriend, to show the earrings to.
Kris: *blush* Ha ha, no.
Ash: We may have to fix that.
Edi: Yes, we should, you are a pretty girl Kris.
Kris *blushes again* awww, thanks Edi.
He chose to ignore his misgivings R. had created. These two bought it.
Iantric: I’m surprised you don’t.
Huluman: Hey everyone. Whoo! Spiffy earrings Kris.
Kris: Thanks
They chatted about other things for almost two hours. Chris was getting sleepy. He told them all good bye, it was a very nice chat room. Iantric and Salem seemed most open to getting to know Kris better. He’d chat them up tomorrow. R. knew more than he was comfortable with. Better stay on his good side, if there was a good side.