One Shots 3.0 [boyxboy]

Shemale

Shemale

Alison sat on the closed toilet lid wringing her hands nervously in her lap. I was sitting in the empty bath in my underwear with my legs propped over the edge, a razor in one hand and a canister of shaving foam in the other.

                ‘I really don’t think this is a good idea,’ she muttered, her eyes wide and anxious. ‘I don’t think you should do this.’

                ‘Nonsense,’ I said confidently, shaking the canister and lathering my right leg with foam. ‘It’s a fancy dress party. It’ll be fine.’

                My sister didn’t say anything, but her expression was doubtful. My tongue sticking slightly from the corner of my mouth in concentration, I started at my ankle and drew the razor up over my knee and along my thigh, before dunking it in the bowl of water to my left to clean it.

                ‘Look,’ Alison said eventually, obviously having been rehearsing this in her had for the last few minutes. ‘You know I support you in this – this thing, that you have, or you do, or whatever it is. A hundred percent. And you know you look you look great when you dress up and do your make and, you know, become Samantha.’ She leaned forward and put her hand over mine supportively, but she was biting her lip nervously. ‘But I don’t think this town is ready for Samantha,’ she finished softly.

                ‘Ali,’ I said firmly, turning my hand over to squeeze hers briefly before resuming shaving my legs. ‘That’s the whole point. It’s a fancy dress party; it’s the perfect time to introduce Samantha to my friends. They’ll think it’s funny and admit that I look awesome as a girl and that will lay a positive foundation for when I eventually tell them that, you know, Samantha isn’t just for fun.’ It felt strange to talk about myself in the third person, but while Alison has always been completely supportive, she has difficulty wrapping her head around the fact that Samuel and Samantha are the same person; me. She has trouble accepting that I’m not just dressing up as Samantha; that I actually am Samantha.

                Ali still looking apprehensive and she sat silently watching me finish preparing for the party. I could tell she thought I was in for the worst night of my life, that my friends would turn on me and strangers would beat me up. But I knew in my heart she was overreacting.

                Once I was fully shaved – that is, my legs and under my arms. My body is delightfully cooperative in that I barely have any hair on my chest or face – I slipped into my black silk and lace lingerie, my favourite black dress, and started on my make-up, making my eyes look as sultry and seductive as I could.

                ‘I’ll tell them you did it for me,’ I assured Alison, when I caught her watching me worriedly in the reflection.

                As it neared time to leave for the party, I examined my reflection in the mirror. My dark hair was coiffed with volume and held in place with spray; my blue eyes sparkled under the dark eye make-up, and my shape, while not exactly womanly, was nevertheless quite feminine. I felt beautiful. I looked beautiful. Time to go.

                ‘Please be careful,’ Alison begged as I trotted down the stairs in my heels. Our parents were out at dinner and anyway seemed to approach my “issue” with a philosophy of see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil, so I didn’t have to worry about any awkward well wishes from them.

                ‘I’ll be fine,’ I assured my sister with a smile, giving her a quick hug before shrugging on my coat and leaving the house.