Fiction byClaudette St.Onge © 2001-3, all rights reserved
THE FIRST DAY OF THE FIRST WEEK
Mommy promised to call Timmy once or twice a week. After a lot of hugs and kisses ‘goodbye’, Auntiie took his hand and told him to come with her. They left and got into her car. It was only a little way down the street to her house and they could have walked to it quickly, but Auntiie liked being seen driving her Continental.
Once inside her house, she took off her hat and gloves and told Timmy to sit down on the couch. Then she sat down next to him and looked him over in an appraising manner. He seemed a little below average height for his age, a bit slim perhaps, and his features were very delicate, especially for a boy. His hair was blond, unlike the black hair of his mother and her own. She was surprised Marie had managed to keep his hair as long as it was. It actually curled on his shoulders. Perhaps the salon could do something nice with it.
"Timmy," she began, "I’m going to tell you about the "big change" mommy wants you to make living here with me."
"All right, Aunt Corinne," said Timmy. "I’m listening."
"It might seem kind of strange to you, dear, but that’s only because you’ve never done it before. But lots of other little boys have, even though you don’t hear about it very often. It’s not something that’s going to hurt you, and after a while you’ll start to like it. But even if you don’t like it, you still have to do it. Don’t forget, your mommy knows what it is, and said she wanted you to do it, too."
"I know, Aunt Corinne," he replied, looking up at her. "What do I have to do?"
"Beginning today, you’re going to start dressing like a girl and I’ll teach you how to be a nice young lady. That’s the only way you can stay here with me. And your mother is counting on you doing it."
"But why, Aunt Corinne?" he asked. "Don’t you like boys?"
"No, dear, I don’t like boys," she replied honestly. "But if you learn how to dress and act like a nice girl you can stay with me til your mother gets back. There’s not much more to tell you about it, except that you’ll do everything girls do with their mommies or aunties. We’ll go out together and I’ll show off my pretty niece to my friends. I’ll take you to lots of interesting and fun places for girls, and we’ll have a nice time together for a month."
"Geeee…."said Timmy. "I don’t want to be a girl. That sounds weird, Auntiie."
"I know, dear, but like I said before, other boys have done it. It only seems strange because you’ve never done it before. And you don’t want to make mommy miss out on making a lot of money, do you?"
"No," he answered slowly. "But don’t just sissies dress up like girls?"
"Well, it won’t hurt you to be a sissy for a month, and I’m sure that after a little while you’ll start to like it. Girls have a lot more fun than boys."
"They do?" he asked.
"Oh, yes, dear," Corinne replied. "Of course it’s not the same type of fun boys have. It’s much nicer. You’ll see."
Timmy didn’t know what to say. He was afraid of his aunt. She didn’t hug and kiss him like his mommy did. And he was afraid of her house, too. It was filled with old things and had a lot of dark wood on the walls like a big old haunted house in the movies. The ceilings were very high and there were a lot of dark shadows in the corners and hallways. He looked up into her eyes and didn’t see anything that looked like she might change her mind. He wondered why she didn’t smile more like most ladies.
"Well, what’s it going to be, Timmy? We have to get started right away. Will you do as Auntiie tells you, or do you need to be convinced by a spanking with my hairbrush?"
Gosh! His mommy had never given him a spanking. But she had told him that his Auntiie could do it if he was naughty and didn’t obey her. The whole thing was so different and came about so fast that Timmy didn’t know which way to turn. But he certainly didn’t want to start off by getting a spanking with a hairbrush.
"Al…alright, Auntiie," he replied. Auntiie made a little smile down at him. It looked to him like the way some people smile when they’ve won a game or something.
Corinne held Timmy’s well scrubbed hand as they walked towards the the beauty salon entrance. She had called and told Francine that she had an emergency, and had quite frankly explained she needed to get a nice girls hair style for a little boy. Francine let out a tired sigh on the other end of the line, and then she told Corinne to bring him right over.
Timmy was still in his boy clothes, and he knew only ladies and girls went to beauty salons. But his Auntiie had insisted that they had to get his hair done first before dressing him up. Timmy was in no rush to get dressed up either. The whole thing seemed really weird to him, and he
was surprised that his mommy had said that she wanted him to do this, even if it was for only a month. When his Auntiie told him that his mommy had really wanted a little girl instead of a boy, he wasn’t sure he believed her. Mommy had always hugged and kissed him and told him how much she loved him. But now here he was with a lady that was going to make him look like a girl because she didn’t like little boys.
Francine had just finished working on Patsy Coughlin’s hair when she spotted Corinne coming in with a little boy. What in God’s name is Corinne up to now, she wondered. But Corinne gave her steady business and tipped lavishly, so she tried to be accommodating with her.
Walking in as if she owned the place, a frozen look of superiority on her face, Corinne marched little Timmy down to the rear of the shop where Francine stood waiting for them. She gave Francine a little smile and told her she appreciated her emergency attention for Timmy, and explained he’d be staying with her for a month. Then she bent down and spoke to Timmy.
"This is the nice lady that’s going to make your hair look pretty, Timmy. And Auntiie wants you to behave while she works on you." "Yes, Auntiie. I will," answered a wide eyed Timmy. He felt like he had entered a sort of secret place that only girls and ladies knew about.
Francine sat him down in a chair and began looking at his hair.
"Corinne, he has lovely hair! How did his mother ever keep it so long while he was in school? This will be easy. When you first called up I had visions of a boy with normal short hair coming in here, which would pretty much limit us to a pixie cut. But this makes some really pretty styles possible."
"Well," answered Corinne, "I don’t want anything fancy to draw attention to him. Just a normal girls' style so he’ll 'fit in'".
"Actually," said Francine, "he probably would look best with a simple bangs and ponytail style. He’s pretty cute for a boy, just in case you hadn’t noticed it. Imagine how nice he’d look with a pretty ribbon tied in a bow around the base of his ponytail! Really. I know that probably doesn’t seem like it needs the attention of a salon, but it would still be the best style for him now. Why don’t I give him a nice shampoo while he’s here, and then we’ll see what it looks like in a ponytail?"
"Very well," said Corinne. "While you’re shampooing his hair I want to step over to Cherry & Webb and pick up a few things." Francine smiled knowingly at Corinne. Cherry & Webb was a women and girls store, and she suspected little Timmy would be having a portion of his new wardrobe picked out for him while she worked on his hair. Corinne turned, her heels clicking away on the tile floor and disappeared out the door.
"So, Timmy," said Francine, "you’re going to be a nice girl for Auntiie for a whole month. Are you excited?"
"No," said Timmy sullenly, "but mommy says I have to do what Auntiie says while she’s away."
"Oh, Timmy," said Francine. "Don’t feel angry or scared about it, dear. It’ll be a lot of fun for you, honey. And your Auntiie will be buying you so many nice things to wear. You’ll like it after you get used to it, sweetheart. And you and Auntiie will do lots of nice things together, too."
In back of him some women were sittting under dryers, and all of them had caught on to what was happening to Timmy. They smiled at Timmy.
Timmy was thinking about the girls in his class at school. Girls did look pretty, but he didn’t understand why they wanted to. And they acted different. He didn’t see what was so much fun about being a girl. They never seemed to do anything interesting. But they smiled and laughed a lot. And most of the time, it was a boy the teacher would have to speak to for being naughty in class. He made a little sigh and looked up at the salon lady as she combed his hair. She smiled down at him sweetly, and then had him sit down near a sink to shampoo his hair.
By the time Auntiie walked back into the salon, Timmy was back in the first chair after being under a dryer for a little while. Francine had tied a pretty ribbon bow on his ponytail. And she had already cut and arranged some delicate looking bangs on his forehead.
Corinne approached Timmy with mild curiosity. After all, he was still just a little boy. Then she got a good look at him. WELL !!! This was quite interesting! Francine’s instincts concerning not only his hair, but the shape of his head and face had been right. He really did look remarkably pretty with bangs and a ponytail, and the shampoo gave his hair a nice sheen. Corinne folded her arms and studied him carefully. He really looks quite good, she thought.
Francine turned to Corinne with a big grin. Obviously she was proud of her work. She was working the comb through his ponytail to give it a little upward flip, at the same time lessening the tension at the end so Timmy’s natural curl was still there. She had picked a pink ribbon to tie a bow with. That blond hair seemed to shout for pink as a pretty contrast.
Timmy felt out of sorts. He had known from the way the other boys at school kidded him that he had a kind of pretty face and then mommy started letting his hair grow long, too. But now the way the salon lady had fixed him up really made him look like a girl.
"Corinne," said Francine as she rummaged through her purse, "let me put just a tiny touch of make-up on him."
"Go right ahead," said Corinne, becoming more interested by the minute. Soon Timmy had a little mascara on his lashes, had a few eyebrow hairs plucked out, was wearing just a hint of lipstick, and had a little very light rouge rubbed onto his cheeks by Francine’s finger tip.
"There! Now that’s how he should look," announced the satisfied Francine. Corinne nodded her head slowly. Timmy really did make a passable girl; in fact a pretty girl. She thanked Francine, paid her and included a very generous tip, took Timmy’s hand and marched him out of the salon. He could feel his ponytail bouncing against the back of his head and neck as he walked.
"Goodbye, Timmy. Have a nice time, sweetheart," called out Francine.
They got into Auntiie’s car and Timmy noticed several large shopping bags and some large flat boxes on the back seat. When they got home, he helped Auntiie carry them into his bedroom. Then she began to open them all.
"This won’t be enough for a month, Timmy," said Auntiie, "but it’ll get you started. We’ll shop some more for you in a day or two."
Timmy went over to a little mirror hanging on the wall and looked at his face. The ponytail with the pretty bow, the bangs and the make-up, they all added an even greater girlishness to his natural delicate appearance. He looked at himself without smiling.
"How do you like yourself, now, Timmy?" asked Auntiie.
"I…I look like a girl, Auntiie," he said in a quiet voice.
"Well, girls look prettier when they smile, dear," she replied.
Timmy made a little smile and saw that she was right. He did look prettier when he smiled.
"Timmy, go start to fill the tub up with warm water while I put away your clothes, dear. When it’s about half way filled, call me."
"Yes, Aunt Corinne," he said, and started off towards the bathroom. When the tub was half filled he stepped into the hallway and called his aunt. She came towards him without any smile, a look of ‘all business’ on her face. Soon the tub was filled and Timmy, a little bath cap protecting his shampooed hair, was almost hidden by a mountain of nice smelling bubbles.
"Stay there and soak for a while," said Auntiie, "while I finish putting your things away. Try not to get your face wet and spoil your make-up." She picked up his boy clothes and held them out away from her as if they might contaminate her dress. Timmy never did see them again.
Auntiie returned with a little summer weight girls robe for him, made sure he was adequately clean, and then told him to dry himself off with a fluffy towel on the rack.
"Once you’re dry and have your robe on, come back to your bedroom," she told him and disappeared into the hallway. When he got to his bedroom Corinne was sitting on the edge of his bed smoking a cigarette. An ashtray from the living room was on his nightstand.
"Sit down, Timmy," she said, sounding about as inviting as a dentist. He sat down next to her and looked up at her. It was only two-thirty in the afternoon.
"Timmy," she began, "I want you to realize that from now til your mother comes back you’re a girl. You’re no longer a little boy that is going to go running around playing ‘war’ or cowboys and Indians with the other boys. You’re a girl, and that nice bubble bath and the trip to the salon have all helped to make you look like a girl.
"Now comes the hard part. You have to learn how to act and behave like a girl, and you have to learn it quick. I’m not going to lose a whole month training you to be a girl. I have too many other things I want to do. Just about all of them, you’ll be doing with me. And you have to look and act like a nice girl. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Auntiie," he replied disheartened.
"Very well," she said. "Now let’s get you dressed up like a nice little girl should be." She got up and went to the closet, studied several dresses and bouffant slips for a minute, and then took her choices over to the bed where she laid them out. While Timmy was looking at them, she turned and went to a chest of drawers and came back with some panties and some girls anklet socks.
"Take off your robe, dear, and let’s put these nice panties on you," said Corinne. They were cute light pink cotton panties with little darker pink hearts all over them and little white lace at the leg openings. She pulled them up to his waist.
"Why do they have hearts on them?" asked Timmy.
"Because they’re for sweethearts, dear," said Corinne. "Just like you’ll be." Then she lifted a white bouffant slip over his head and told him to raise his arms. The lace trimmed straps settled onto his shoulders and the rest of it went on down to his knees. It had three layers to it, and Timmy was surprised how smooth the layer next to his legs was. Then there was a layer of white netting that poufed out and finally a stiff parchment nylon overskirt that had pink ribbons going around it, a lot of lace, and a big pink bow. It stuck out from his legs a lot.
"That fits you quite well, dear," said Corinne. She didn’t bother to ask him if he liked it.
"Now sit down on the bed again, Timmy, and we’ll put your anklets and shoes on." The anklet socks were pink but had white lace tops that Auntiie folded down over his ankles. Then came a pair of white Mary Jane shoes with a strap and buckle that Auntiie fastened.
"There," said Auntiie, getting back to her feet. "Now it’s time for your dress. Just think, Timmy. This is your first dress. But there’ll be a lot more to come."
The dress she had picked was pink like his socks. It had short puffed sleeves with plain white trim, a little rounded white collar, and three rows of narrow white zig-zags went across his chest. There were more of them going around the middle of the skirt. Auntiie called them ric-rac. She went in back of him and began to button it up. Afterwards she took the two loose ends of a pink sash and tied them into a big bow in the small of his back.
As soon as she was finished, she took his hand and led him into her room where there was a full length mirror. She stood next to him, still holding his hand as they looked at the reflection of themselves. Timmy remained quiet.
"There," said Corinne. "Don’t you think you look better now?"
"I…I look just like a girl, Auntiie," said Timmy.
"Yes, you do," said Corinne. "And this is the way Maryanne is going to look for a month. So you better get used to it."
"Maryanne?" asked Timmy.
"Yes, dear," replied Corinne. "That’s going to be your name while you’re a girl. Your mommy likes that name. Do you like it?"
Timmy shrugged his shoulders. "I guess so, Auntiie."
"Now come along to the living room, dear. We have to begin your training."
In the living room, Corinne immediately began teaching him the little habits and manners of girls concerning how they sat down, walked, talked, stood politely while they had to wait for something, and little things girls did regarding their dresses, such as fluffing them up and smoothing out the wrinkles from their skirts. Maryanne found it boring, especially when Corinne made him sit down and then get back up a dozen times, always smoothing his dress behind him when he sat down, keeping his feet and knees together, etc.
He had to learn to walk like a girl, not swinging his arms, but just letting them hang relaxed along the sides of his dress, taking smaller steps, and always keeping his back nice and straight. Slouching was definitely forbidden! Then came his talking. He must always talk in a soft, clear voice and never ever use slang. It was alright for Maryanne to call her ‘Auntiie’ when they were home alone, but when they went out anywhere, he must always call her ‘Aunt Corinne’. And he must never ever interrupt ladies when they were talking, or contradict Auntiie or any other lady.
"One other thing, Maryanne," said Auntiie. "If I ever catch you taking a pee standing up it will mean an instant hairbrush spanking. Do you understand? You sit down like a nice girl from now on."
"Yes, Auntiie," said Maryanne in a soft voice.
Then there were a lot of rules about what he was expected to do around the house. The guest room was going to be decorated by the maid tomorrow to make it look more suitable for a girl. He would keep it spotless and never leave clothes lying around on the bed, chair, or floor. As soon as something needed laundering, he was to put it in the bathroom hamper. Because of all the antiques, Maryanne would have to always move slowly and carefully through the house. Running, inside or outside the house, was forbidden. Only tomboys ran. He was going to behave like a little lady.
"When we’re visiting one of my nice friends, Maryanne,"explained Corinne, "you should smile nice and tell them it’s nice to meet them. Always say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ when you should. Little girls should just remain quiet and still unless they are spoken to. Sit up nice and straight with your hands in your lap and simply be quiet. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Auntiie," answered Maryanne, wondering where all the fun was girls were supposed to have.
"Maryanne," said Corinne, "there are a lot more things you have to learn, and I don’t expect you to be able to remember them all in one day. But you must try very hard to learn them as soon as possible. Besides, acting and behaving like a girl will make you feel more like a girl. And don’t forget what I told you a little while ago: until your mommy gets back, you are no longer a boy. You’re a girl. If I suspect that you are pretending you forgot to do something the right way, you’ll feel the hairbrush on your bottom. I know you’ll make a few mistakes at first, but you have to learn as much as you can as fast as you can. I won’t have you embarrassing me when we go out."
"Yes, Aunt Corinne," replied Maryanne in a subdued voice.
"Sit down here next to me," said Corinne. Maryanne sat down, smoothing his dress behind him and kept his feet and knees together. He sat up straight and placed his hands in his lap after he brushed away a couple of wrinkles with this hands. Corinne smiled slightly as she watched him.
"Are you beginning to get used to wearing a nice dress, dear?" asked Corinne.
"A…a little bit..maybe, Auntiie," Maryanne answered. Corinne looked at him appraisingly.
"Do you like it?"
"Well…not really, Auntiie," he answered. "It all still seems kind of weird and silly to me. But I’ll do it since mommy wants me to."
"And because I say you have to, Maryanne," she reminded him.
"Yes, Auntiie," replied Maryanne softly.
"You know, Maryanne, Auntiie is really doing you a big favor."
"You are?" he asked.
"Oh, yes, dear," she answered. "You see, ladies and girls are much better persons than men and boys. They act nicer, keep themselves looking nice, are much cleaner, and are smarter, too. I bet the girls in your class at school get better marks than most of the boys."
"Gosh, Auntiie! I think they do," said Maryanne. "I never thought of that before."
"Don’t say ‘gosh’, dear," said Corinne. "Nice girls don’t use expressions like that."
"Yes, Auntiie," he said.
Without realizing what she was doing, Corinne suddenly found herself primping the bow on Maryanne’s ponytail. It was something pretty automatic for most women to do, but Corinne was surprised at herself. She'd seldom even touched any child before now.
Then the phone rang, and Corinne began a lengthy conversation with one of her friends. Timmy continued sitting on the couch for a while, but Auntiie became pretty involved in discussing some country club gossip. Finally she put her hand over the mouthpiece and beckoned him over to her.
"Maryanne, I’ll be busy for a little while. You practice walking and sitting down around the house like a good girl."
"Yes, Auntiie," he answered, glad he could move around instead of just sitting there. Corinne went back to her gossip.
He left the living room and wandered down a hallway to a little room that was filled with books, just like his mommy’s library room. He walked in, his hands at the sides of his dress and sat down like girls do in a big dark leather wingback chair.
He looked down at his dress covering his legs and brushed away a wrinkle with his hands. He still didn’t understand any of this. It didn’t make any sense to him. He knew that Auntiie didn’t like boys, but even if he had a ponytail and dressed like a girl, he was still a boy. He began to wonder if maybe it was some kind of a game or joke she wanted to play on her friends, fooling them into thinking he was a girl. But why would she want to do that? And why did his mommy tell him that she thought being a girl would be good for him? He gave up trying to figure it out for now and began to look around.
There was a window near his chair that looked out across Auntiie’s big lawn to the street. Suddenly he saw three boys coming along the sidewalk. He got up from his chair and got closer to the window. As the boys got near he could see that they were pals of his. He stepped back behind the drape alongside the window so they wouldn’t see him and took a peek at them. But the boys were busy talking about something and didn’t even look over at Auntiie’s house. Pretty soon they were gone.
Timmy sat back down, feeling a little scared. He looked down at his dress again and began to wonder. What if the boys had seen him getting out of Auntiie’s car with a pink ribbon on his ponytail? Or what if they saw him later today or tomorrow all dressed up like a girl? If they recognized him it would be awful! Pretty soon all the kids at school would know he had been wearing girls clothes. He might just as well run away to someplace far away, like Alaska or Africa. He wondered if mommy would come with him. But not Aunt Corinne. He sighed and lowered his head. He knew he wasn’t going to run away anywhere. He had to stay here so mommy could make a lot of money for them.
A month, he thought. It would be the end of July before he could dress and act like a regular boy again. He couldn’t see where there was any fun to being a girl, despite what Auntiie had told him. And he sure didn’t think she was doing him a favor like she said. The dress was comfortable on him, but felt funny because it was so different. And the lower half of his legs were bare. A good thing it’s warm now, he thought.
He didn’t like it. He didn’t like wearing girls clothes, or having a ponytail and bangs, or having to learn how to act like a girl. It all seemed crazy to him. Wearing panties and a poufy slip and dress made him feel squirmy inside. And he didn’t like Aunt Corinne either. He thought she was mean to be making him do this. He didn’t know why mommy said it would be good for him. But she had, and that puzzled him even more. But there just didn’t seem to be anything he could do about it.
He left the little library room and went up to his Auntiie’s bedroom and stood in front of the big mirror again. He really did look like a girl. As long as he acted and talked like one, maybe no one would know he was a boy. Why did he look like he did? The other boys at school all looked like regular boys. Why did he have a sort of girls face even before Auntiie dressed him up? And why did mommy like to keep his hair so long?
He was still looking at himself when Corinne came into the room.
She stopped next to him and looked at his reflection in the mirror with him.
"I meant to tell you, Maryanne," she said, "it’s a good thing for girls to look at themselves in the mirror whenever they get the chance so they can see if they look alright. You wouldn’t want to be walking around all day looking funny because the bow on your ponytail came undone, would you?"
"No, Auntiie," he answered.
"That’s a good girl," Auntiie said. "After a while a lot of girl things will become automatic for you. Now it’s getting near dinner time. I don’t feel like cooking tonight, so we’ll eat out in a nice restaurant."
Timmy groaned inwardly to himself. It was bad enough dressing and acting like a girl here. But going out where people would be seeing him really worried him.
"Do we have to, Auntiie?" he asked.
"Yes, Maryanne," she replied. "And it will do you good, too. As long as you act like a nice girl, you’ll be surprised how people will think you are one. You certainly look like one. All you have to do is act like Auntiie has been telling you to. Besides, it’s about time you learned how nice it is in a really good restaurant where better people go."
"Better people, Auntiie?" he asked.
"Yes," she replied. "Like my friends."
The trip to the fancy restaurant turned out to be no big deal, but it didn’t start out that way. Wearing white gloves and with his purse hanging from his shoulder, he had entered the restaurant with Auntiie, tripped in the deep carpeting, and fell in a heap, his dress and slip all in disarray, his sweetheart panties in plain view. A man at a nearby table jumped up and helped Maryanne to his feet. Auntiie shook her head and thanked the man for his assistance. Then they straightened out his slip and dress and sat down. Pretty soon, Maryanne was eating the first shrimp cocktail he’d ever had. Later, after they had finished their dinner and were driving back home, Auntiie said a strange thing…for her.
"Maryanne, I’m sorry you fell down when we entered," she said. "It was really my fault. I should have warned you about how deep the carpeting would be. I’m sorry, dear."
"Oh, that’s okay, Aunt Corinne," he replied. "I’ve fallen down a lot when I’ve been playing with my pals."
"Perhaps, dear," she said, "but nice little girls don’t fall down. Girls always move slowly and gracefully."
"Yes, Aunt Corinne," he said.
That night Auntiie showed him how to hang up his things, washed his face, combed and brushed out his pretty hair, and gave him a cotton baby doll nightie to wear. It was pretty, but it was even shorter than his dress and slip. He wondered why girls didn’t cover up their legs. He climbed into bed and pulled the covers up. Corinne looked down at him, but didn’t smile or make any attempt to tuck him in like mommy did, or to give him a goodnight kiss, either.
"Sleep well, Maryanne," she said. "We have a busy day tomorrow."
"What will we be doing, Auntiie?" he asked.
"You and I will visit one of my older friends. Naturally, I expect you to be on your best behavior. If you ever embarrass me in front of one of my friends, your bottom will be sore for a week. Good night, dear." With that she turned around and left the room, shutting off the light and closing the door.
Maryanne lay thinking about everything that had happened to him that day. It still seemed so strange. He didn’t want to be a girl. Why wouldn’t Auntiie let a boy stay with her? He had always acted nice when he and mommy visited her before. And even though his hair was in a girls ponytail and bangs, and he had worn a dress and things all day, she didn’t seem to like him any better. He wished he didn’t have to do this. Auntiie scared him, too. She was even taller than mommy and she hardly ever smiled at him. He turned his head sideways on the pillow and cried a little bit. He didn’t like being a girl at all. Why was this happening to him, he kept wondering.