By L. Rochelle
(c) 1999 L. Rochelle
lrochelle@zdnetonebox.com
This is my first attempt at writing of any kind, let alone a story. Please keep in mind that this is a work in progress and may be changed to reflect and enhance events that may occur as the story unfolds. I have decided to go ahead and post this story in an uncompleted form to Fiction Mania's Mailing list in the hopes of receiving some input and criticism. Also, I would like to point out that this story thus far contains no sex, but has a TG theme. So, if you are offended by such a story or are underage (-18), please deposit in the circular file.
At this point, I would like to thank several people for their patience and understanding. To ChilliTNG, thank you for editing this hack job and providing the instruction that I sorely needed to be able to write at all. To Janice Dreamer, for your kind words of praise for my developing writing abilities as well as a second editor. Thank you for taking the time to post this story to the list for me. And last of all I give special thanks to Wendy J for your encouragement and input. Your friendship and love has been an inspiration to me. I also thank you for believing in me and my abilities even when I wouldn't believe in myself. To all three of my dear friends I love you all and count myself lucky to consider you as the best of friends.
Sapphire has exclusive rights to archive this story at Sapphire's Place. All rights to "Making Lemonade" is mine alone.
Chapter Seven
The mall parking lot was nearly packed and it took Mrs. Fisher several minutes to find a space. Since she had to make a detour to pick up Karen and Sylvia, Mr. Fisher was already there, looking for a place to park. As luck would have it, Mrs. Fisher found a spot where there were two spaces together and Mr. Fisher, in the "Hummer", pulled in next to her van.
The girls climbed out of the van excitedly, their bubbling enthusiasm making them unaware of Mark's trepidation. Mrs. Fisher glanced in the rearview mirror as she started to get out herself and saw Mark still sitting in the back. "Sweetie, it's not too late to change your mind."
Mark took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I'll be all right, I think. I just need a few minutes." He continued his deep breathing exercises, regaining some of his composure. "I knew this was going to be hard, but not this hard," he said. Finally, he climbed out and closed the door.
Donna overheard her mother and confirmed Mark's nervousness with a quick glance to the back seat. She went to his side of the van and got there just as Mark was stepping out. "Mom's right. You don't have to do this." Her memory of Mark's day as Snow White kept gnawing at her conscience. He'd made it through the day, but at what cost? All she could remember was that he became withdrawn and she feared that he never quite recovered from the trauma of that experience. Mark never did tell her about the incident at the church, which was the real cause of his withdrawal.
"Sure I do. I've thought about this a lot. I never really had a choice the moment I walked into that office. Right now, my only hope is my mom. Her religious beliefs won't allow this sorta thing." Mark smiled briefly. "You know... I never thought I'd be happy with my mom's religion."
"Well, ladies," said Mrs. Fisher. "We better get moving. The Bridal Shop is on the other end of the mall and we still have to walk across this parking lot."
Karen and Sylvia started walking toward the mall entrance and Mark fell in behind them with Donna and Kelly to either side. Mr. and Mrs. Fisher followed at a slower pace.
Charlie couldn't decide whether to keep up with the girls or remain with his mother and father. Hanging with the parents wasn't cool and the sway of Mark's behind was having an effect on his state of mind. He knew Mark was a boy, but he had trouble seeing him as one. His eyes kept wandering to the curve of Mark's hips and butt, no matter how many times he tried to look elsewhere. Charlie thought it best to head for a different entrance.
Mark and the girls went into the mall and proceeded down the promenade. Their route took them past the arcade where several boys began to whistle and shout rude and lascivious remarks. Mark looked over and spotted Mayhem intently involved with one of the video games. The boys who were being obnoxious were some of his crew. The anxiety that Mark was doing a passable job of suppressing resurfaced abruptly like an underwater explosion. "Donna! Mayhem and crew are in the arcade!" Mark squeaked, his throat constricted in fear. "Ohmigod! What if they see me?"
Donna quickly looked in the direction of the arcade. She noticed the boys who were trying to get their attention. "Ummmm... I think they've already seen us. Look, just keep going and try not to look nervous."
Mayhem looked up from the machine to see what his homeys were carrying on about. When he saw the five babes cruising by, he recognized Donna from school. "Yo, Donna!" he yelled to be heard above the din of the arcade, then he made his way out into the mall. "Yo, Donna!"
The girls had quickened their pace and were well past the arcade when Donna heard Mayhem calling. She had to look back over her shoulder to verify her suspicions. "Nooo! Not now!" she said to herself, exasperated. Glancing around the immediate area, she addressed the others, "You guys go over to Stacey's and look at the lingerie in the window. Keep Mark outta sight as much as possible. I'll get rid of him."
The girls went to the window, shielding Mark from the view of the boy approaching Donna. They attempted to provide protection without looking like they were, but in order to appear casual, Mark could only be partially blocked. Therefore, Mark had to keep his back to Donna and Mayhem.
A feeling of hopelessness began to rise from the depths of Mark's being. Why was he having such a difficult time maintaining his usual aloofness? After all, his ability to detach himself from his surroundings was a practiced art, developed from nearly ten years of experience. He was four years old when he realized that he didn't fit in and he began to learn how to tune out. The meditation techniques had given him the extra edge he'd needed when he began going to a school with ten times the students of his former elementary school. But now, it seemed like Mark was falling into an emotional whirlwind every time he turned around.
Mayhem reached Donna as the girls were nearly to the store window and she positioned herself so he would have his back to the them. It took him several long moments to turn his attention to Donna. "Who's the bitch in the pink?"
Donna glared at Mayhem and then smiled sweetly. "Now Carlo, you shouldn't call women 'bitches'. You just might get bit. Look, I'm in a hurry. What do you want?"
"Oh yeah. I just wanted to let you know, we're in. That slimy bitch gave me shit all last year. I owe her." He looked over his shoulder at the other girls. "Damn! What a nice ass."
"Carlo? Carlo!" Donna snapped her fingers in his ear, finally getting back his attention. "Can we focus here?" She shook her head in disgust. "Jeez, do you guys ever use your big head?" Donna paused momentarily to regain her sense of purpose -- she needed someone like Mayhem for her plans. "Are you sure? I might need you to do some things... that... well...."
"Yeah, no big deal."
"Okay." She looked at her watch. "Look, I really need to get going. We got an appointment that we need to keep. We'll talk Monday at lunch, 'kay?"
"Oh. Yeah, sure. Monday. Come on, Donna. Who is she?"
"Just one of the girls trying out for some modeling with me."
"Cool. Can you introduce me?"
"Maybe later, Carlo. We really don't have time now."
"Well, where are you headed? I can walk with ya."
"No!" blurted Donna. "I mean, we'd really like to keep it girls only. You do understand?" she questioned, although Mayhem's understanding was irrelevant. She had learned that girls needed to give the boys the illusion that they, the boys, are LETTING them, the girls, have their way. Boys were so easy to manipulate.
"Okay, sure. Maybe later." Mayhem turned to take another look, "Man! That's a really nice ass," he said as he headed back to the arcade.
Donna expelled a sigh of relief. "That was a close one," she thought. She looked up and saw her parents enter the mall. "Maybe it'd be better to wait for Mom and Dad."
She stood waiting for her parents, rapidly tapping her foot. Her patience with the slow pace that they were progressing was beginning to wear thin. When they finally reached Donna, she smiled, hiding her annoyance, and said, "Mom. Dad. I think we'd better stick with you. Mark's in pretty bad shape. He's having problems dealing with the boys. At least with you guys around, the boys would think twice before they bother us." By this time Mark and the girls had returned to where Donna and her parents were.
Mrs. Fisher's attention immediately fell upon Mark. His hands were clenched together in front of him and he seemed to be shaking slightly. "Sweetie, are you going to make it?"
Mark flinched as Mrs. Fisher placed her hand on his shoulder, then he visibly relaxed when he realized who it was. "God. I... I'm so scared. What if someone recognizes me?" Taking a deep breath, he continued, more to himself than anybody else. "Okay, you've got to do this. Don't think, just do. I can do this. I can do this. I have to do this. I have to do this."
"Better?" Donna inquired.
Mark took several more deep breaths, letting them out slowly. "Let's do it."
"Great.... Okay, Mark, you stick close to Mom and Dad."
The group started down the concourse toward the hub of the mall. They had entered near one of the anchor stores, "Nordstrom's." The mall was two stories tall and was laid out in a "Y" shape, with the three main department stores at the ends of each wing. Where the three wings converged was a large open area containing the food court and a small stage backed by a large fountain. The pool of the fountain was shaped so that it surrounded the stage on three sides. The stage was accessed from either side by bridges that traversed the pool. Santa Claus was sitting on a huge throne-like chair, talking to the children who sat on his knee. Elves were stationed at the ends of the bridges, directing the children. The interior was cheerful and brightly lit, thanks mainly to the sun light that streamed through the glass roof along mall's open areas. The thriving trees, shrubs, and blooming flowers served to break up the monotony of the long promenades of each wing and provided a comforting ambiance for the food court.
It didn't take long for the girls to disappear in the crowd, drawn in by the overwhelming atmosphere of the Christmas shopping season. Mark stuck close to Mrs. Fisher, afraid to be farther than an arm's length away from her. Mr. Fisher walked along next to his wife, arm around her waist. As the trio made their way around the rather large food court and began to head down the concourse towards "Lord and Taylor," Charlie fell in beside Mr. Fisher, trying to look as though he was not with them.
Charlie was making a concerted effort to not be in a position to accidentally catch sight of Mark. The long cruise through the mall, full of beautiful ladies, had given him the confidence to maintain his perspective. But as he came up through the central hub from the "Saks Fifth Avenue" wing, he caught sight of Mark's jeans-clad behind and lost all semblance of composure.
Mark lightly touched Mrs. Fisher's arm, gaining her attention. "Everybody's staring at me. They know."
Mrs. Fisher briefly looked around and noticed Mark was right; many of the other shoppers were looking in their direction. She smiled knowingly. "Sweetie, they are looking at you in admiration. After all, you... are... a beautiful... young lady."
"Oh," he said sadly. "So much for blending in."
"Look, sweetie. You're going to have to face facts. You can't hide your beauty. And I suspect you've never been able to. People WILL notice you. After all... you're here to be a model."
Mark had never let himself come to this conclusion. It was disconcerting to have his subconscious fears realized. Thoughts that he hadn't let coalesce came rushing to the fore. He dropped his head, his chin resting on his chest.
"Come on, sweetie," smiled Mrs. Fisher. "Chin up. You've a rare opportunity to experience something most men will never know."
"I don't think men were supposed to!" snapped Mark suddenly.
"Now, now. Have you ever wondered WHY God made you like he did?"
"All the time," he mumbled quietly.
"What reasons have you come up with?"
"He hates me! For what I don't know, but he hates me!"
"Oh, sweetie," she said, wrapping her arm around his shoulders and pulling him close. "God doesn't hate anyone. He loves everybody and He has given you a gift that is very special."
"But... The Bible says...."
"What? That you shouldn't use what He's given you?"
"Well, no. But it says homosexuality is an..."
"Wait just a minute. Who said anything about homosexuality? Besides, how can love be wrong?"
"But...."
"Look, sweetie. You're just wearing some clothes and having a few pictures taken, that's all. Don't blow this out of proportion, okay?"
They had finally reached the Bridal Shop where the other girls were waiting. Mark was still unsure about everything, but he had a job to do. Whatever happened, he wouldn't let the girls down. He took a deep breath and followed everyone into the shop.
The shop was closed for the photo shoot, which was kind of strange, considering it was one of the biggest shopping days of the whole year. Three of the finalists were just finishing up their own shoots. Carol Jamison spotted the group come in the shop and greeted them near the door. "Mrs. Fisher. How nice to see you and your lovely daughters." Scanning the party, she locked her gaze onto Karen who was standing next to Donna and continued, "Ummm... Where's the other one? This one is very beautiful, but John is dead set on his choice." And then turning her attention to Mark, who was just a little behind Donna and Karen, she said, "Even though this one has a certain something, I don't think he'll settle for a two for one exchange either."
Mrs. Fisher gently nudged Mark forward so that he was standing directly in front of Carol. "Ms. Jamison, I believe she is the one you were expecting."
Mark was totally embarrassment; his shoulders slumped and his head dropped in an attempt to become smaller, but the intent was lost and he appeared demure and inviting. Peering through his long, luscious lashes, he quietly mumbled, "I'm Mark."
Carol stepped back momentarily, slightly shocked by the revelation, then, moving forward again, she reached out and gently raised Mark's head by his chin. The dawn of recognition played across her face, mixed with stunned amazement. "Oh my. This is just.... " Releasing him, she called out, "John."
John Carlton was engrossed in his art, trying to capture the essence of the final sequence he had set up. And, as with most artists, he was rather put off by Carol's interruption. Glancing in her direction, his annoyance was evident. Suddenly, his irritation was transformed and a joyful smile lit his face. He immediately handed his camera to his assistant, Susanne, and made his way to the crowd gathered in the entryway, forgetting the task at hand. He halted next to Carol and looked directly at Mark, oblivious to anyone else. "You see," he said smugly, a self-righteous smirk on his face. "I told you she would come."
Susanne had accepted the camera John thrust at her and looked in the direction he was moving. Immediately recognizing the boy, she was momentarily taken aback by the body evident in the tight fitting girls clothes. She knew the boy had a slender build and felt confident that he, at least, had a framework to build upon. But the sight of his obviously natural curves and demure posture made her realize that her assigned task of keeping him safe from close scrutiny was going to be easier than first thought. After all, the last time she'd seen him, he was dressed in baggy clothes that hid nearly everything about his body. Any lingering doubts about using Mark to display girls fashions had faded to oblivion. Now, the only thing left to worry about was his attitude and emotional well-being. Susanne felt ill-equipped to deal with the situation but was determined to do everything within her power for the child.
Remembering the other three girls on the stage, she set the camera down and went over to them. "Ladies. That will be all for today. We'll be in touch with you within the next three weeks with our decision. Keep in mind, we have the first shoot of the campaign scheduled for the week of your winter break, so keep your schedules clear. Well done, girls. I'm sure those of you whom we don't choose will find other opportunities in the future. Ladies, thank you."
"Ummm... is it all right if I hang out and watch?" asked one of the girls. They couldn't help but notice the photographer's interest in one of the girls near the doorway and felt an immediate dislike for her.
"Yes, I'm sure it will be all right. But, please, keep well out of the way. If Mr. Carlton feels put upon... let's just say, it'll reflect badly on your chances. Okay?"
Meanwhile, Karen and Sylvia were getting a big kick out of John's lavish praise of Mark's beauty. He kept referring to him as "her" and they began to wonder if he even had a clue. Donna did say that he knew Mark was a boy, but it was difficult to see that he actually did.
"Yes, even lovelier than last we met," praised John. Without releasing his focus on Mark, he bellowed, "Susanne!" Then he continued with a gentler tone of voice, "My dear, Susanne'll take care of your needs. Anything you want, you need only but to ask."
A sly grin formed across Mark's face. "Okay... Why don't we call this off right now?"
"Ahhh... but that is not possible, my dear."
"Well, you said anything I wanted."
"Yes.... As you wish," he replied and then with a wave of the hand, continued, "Be gone. All of you. I guess I have a four hour break."
"Now, wait just a damn minute!" spat Mr. Fisher. "How dare you just dismiss us like that? My daughters have made your final list and are entitled to their moment in front of the camera."
"Not without this lovely creature," he said, looking at Mark. "I made my position entirely clear yesterday. Now, if you'll leave?"
"Wait!" Mark piped up. "Look, I'll do it."
"Ahhh... very good. I knew you wouldn't let your friends down." By this time, Susanne had arrived at John's side. Still looking at Mark, he continued, "Susanne, take this ravishing creature to the dressing rooms. This hair is lovely, but it needs a new style. See to it. I think we'll start off with the purple Jacquard."
Mr. Fisher started to get in John's face, but Mrs. Fisher restrained him. He looked at his wife and her expression stifled any further outburst.
Susanne started to lead Mark to the dressing area, but he pulled away and said, "Wait. What about Donna and Kelly? I'm not going anywhere without them."
"Oh yes. You go along, too," said John to the girls. "I want to see this one," looking at Donna, "in one of the royal blue shifts and the younger one in pink, I think. Carol you choose the style. The rest of you can stay, but please stay out of the way." John turned on his heels and marched off to the stage.
Donna and Kelly preceded Mark, mostly because Susanne was holding him back a little. She tucked her arm in his. "Ummm... Mark. We can't call you Mark all day. What do you think about... Janet?"
"Huh? Oh... yeah. Sure, whatever," he said, his irritation evident.
"Well, we were just thinking of your well-being. You don't want everybody to know, do you?"
"Yeah, I guess your right. I'm sorry. I guess Janet is as good as any other name. I mean, it's not really me, anyway."
Susanne didn't pursue the subject further. She couldn't help but feel sorry for the boy who would be known as one of the most successful teenage models, and a female one at that. She'd been in this business long enough to know that, between his outward appearance, his gentle demeanor, and John Carlton's persistence, Mark was fooling himself if he honestly thought that whatever name he went by wasn't going to be him. The world would always see that face and place it with the name.
Mark, now Janet, and the girls were led to a large room that was lined on one side with half a dozen cubicles. The louvered doors on the small changing closets reminded him of the saloon doors seen in western movies. The rest of the room was lined with mirrors, with the exception of the far wall, which was partially covered with drapery. On the wall opposite the private changing areas, there were several mirrored partitions that extended out from the wall about six or seven feet and went from floor to ceiling. These partitions created four nooks where a customer could view herself from every angle. The first cubby hole contained a complete set of hair styling equipment and the second was set up for the makeup artists. The center of the room was a large open area with three pedestals for fittings.
The three previous finalists were in various stages of undress and Janet felt embarrassed about being there. His uneasiness wasn't helped by the icy stares of the three girls. He thought for certain that they knew his secret.
Donna was directed to the hair styling station and Kelly to the makeup artist, while Janet was led to the curtained wall. Susanne pulled back the curtain and revealed an area that was a mirror image of the one they'd just walked through, but it had only one pedestal. Janet hesitantly stepped through the opening and Susanne followed. "Janet, this will be your own private dressing room for obvious reasons. If you'll excuse me for a moment, I need to talk to your hair dresser," explained Susanne. She began to retrace her steps, stopped, and turned to Janet again. "Is there anything I can get for you? Something to drink? Anything at all, just ask."
"Ummm... no thank you. I'm fine."
"Very well. Ummm... you might want to get undressed. There are robes in each of the cubicles." She then left the room, leaving Janet alone for the first time that day.
He stood there for several moments, unsure of what to do. The thought of having to get undressed in a strange, not so private place made him nervous. After all, there was only a curtain and anyone could just walk right in. A couple of minutes later, his fears were realized when Susanne returned with two women and a man.
Susanne's disappointment briefly crossed her face. Janet hadn't moved from where she had left her. Susanne mentally noted that she had started to think of Janet as "her" and began to ponder what had changed in her perception, but decided that it was difficult to think otherwise the longer she was in Janet's presence. She wondered how Janet had coped with the gender discrepancy, given her great reluctance for the task she'd been thrust into and the incongruous image she projected.
"Janet, this is Jacqueline and her assistant Kim. They will be assisting you with wardrobe changes and makeup. And this Dennis, your hair dresser."
Dennis circled around Janet several times, observing and fondling her hair. "Your hair is lovely, my dear. It is obvious that you have put effort into its care. But, there is no style. No matter, I shall correct it," he lisped.
"Now, Janet, you need to disrobe. We have a busy schedule and John can get impatient. But, I suspect he'll give you a little latitude," said Susanne speculatively.
"Ummm... I really would feel better if Mrs. Fisher could be here."
"I don't see any problem there. Like I said: anything you need, just ask."
Janet slowly made his way into one of the six changing rooms and began to undress. After removing the sweater, jeans, shoes, and socks, he put on the robe. He didn't think it was a good idea to take off the bra, even though he felt silly wearing it. Could Mrs. Fisher be right? Would he have to get used to wearing bras and panties? The thing that bothered him the most was that he really wasn't that upset with the prospect of it.
Deciding that he couldn't put off the inevitable, he left the cubicle. Mrs. Fisher was there and he was visibly relieved by her familiar face.
"Is everything all right, sweetie? Susanne said that you wanted me with you."
"I'm okay, I guess.... It's just... I'd feel better with you around."
"Sure, Ma... ummm... sweetie. I'll keep you company."
Janet noticed Mrs. Fisher's hesitation with his name and leaned close to whisper, "Susanne thought it might be better if everybody called me Janet."
"Oh... okay, Janet. Did she say why they picked Janet?" Mrs. Fisher whispered back.
"No. At least, I don't think so. My mind isn't working very well right now."
Dennis sashayed up to them and interrupted, "We can continue chatting while we do your hair, love. If you will have a seat?" He waved to the chair at a portable wash basin.
The next half an hour was spent washing, trimming, and putting his hair in curlers. Dennis continually chattered about the things he thought should be done to Janet's hair. Janet was relieved that there wasn't time to accomplish any of them. If Dennis was to get his way, he would have a rather difficult time hiding the feminine style Dennis seemed to want to give him. Janet then had a plastic cap with a long tube attached placed over the curlers. The tube was long enough to enable him to go anywhere in the room freely.
Janet was led to the makeup station. Jacqueline made a comment about how they would use a light foundation that wouldn't hide the "cute" sprinkle of freckles across his nose. The process didn't take very long. About the only part that Janet found uncomfortable was when Jacqueline plucked his eyebrows. Thank God she only pulled a few, saying that they just needed a little cleaning up.
Meanwhile, Kim attended to Janet's hands. Since Janet hadn't paid particular attention to them, the nails were long but rather ragged. The cuticles were trimmed and the nails evened. After several coats of clear polish had been applied, Janet looked at the results and cringed. How was he going to hide his long delicate fingers that were now tipped with beautifully manicured daggers? Of course, they weren't really that bad - the nails were less than a quarter inch from the tips of his fingers - but the total effect seemed to become exaggerated in his mind.
Janet's dark, mysterious eyes now had a sensuous quality that grabbed one's attention. The already long, thick eye lashes rimming his dark, enigmatic, limpid pools were not unlike the frame around a work of art hanging in a museum. The subtle blush of his cheeks contradicted his full luscious lips; the combination of virginal innocence and sexy pout gave off an air of sophistication. Add to this his naturally petite up-tuned nose and the neatly arched brows, and Mrs. Fisher knew, without a doubt, that she was in the presence of an angel. Even though she'd done Janet's makeup for the Snow White costume, she found it hard to believe this was the same child she had brought to the mall.
Janet tried to not dwell on the vision that stared back at him in the mirror. "Oh... my... God!" he screamed in his mind. "I'm in trouble. Even this ugly plastic cap...." "Her" image was indelibly etched upon his brain. Any misconceptions he might have entertained about his self-image had been replaced. He began to wonder whether or not he would become just like those selfish, conceited supermodels. The thought sobered him quickly. Besides, he was, after all, a boy. No matter what happened, nothing would change that, or so he believed.
"But... how? I look like I'm...."
"What, sweetie? A beautiful young lady?" returned Mrs. Fisher knowingly.
"Well... yeah. But... old."
"Janet, you don't look old! Definitely older, maybe seventeen or eighteen. But not old."
"Okay, Janet. We need to get you into the dress. Please, remove the robe," interrupted Jacqueline.
Janet started to take off the robe but froze as he realized who was in the room. Jacqueline noticed his hesitancy and said, "Come on, Janet, we don't have time for modesty. We must see if the dress is going to fit. We may have to make a few alterations."
"Listen, Janet," Susanne said gently, "everyone in this room is aware of your... ummm... shall we say... unique situation." She then raised her voice to make sure everyone could hear. "And these people are here to assist YOU. They ARE YOUR PERSONAL ASSISTANTS, to assist as YOU require. I just wanted you to understand. YOU are in charge, not them."
"But Susanne, we must have cooperation. I can't do my job without it. I need to have some authority over a stubborn child," protested Jacqueline.
"Now, Jacqueline, you knew what was expected coming in. Am I to understand that you've changed your mind?"
"No. No. You're right."
"Just remember. Janet's been thrust into a situation that she's never been in before and requires a little latitude. And Janet, you remember that you're the boss and if anyone doesn't comply with your wishes, feel free to tell John, Carol, or me, and I can assure you that they will be gone within minutes. They can be replaced; you can't. Okay?"
Janet nodded and finished removing his robe. Susanne, Jacqueline, and Kim stared in amazement. The reaction of the others brought a wry smile to Mrs. Fisher's face.
After her initial shock, Jacqueline shook her head in displeasure. "Oh, my. Rather plain. Please, remove your bra. The panties will have to do for now."
Janet was reluctant to remove the bra, but, after a moment's thought, he determined that it really didn't matter since everyone knew about him anyway. With the bra removed, Janet stood in shame under the watchful eyes of the others. There was a renewed round of surprised faces which set Janet to wondering the cause. Surely, they had expected his flat boyish chest. He looked down at his bare chest and studied it more intently than he had in over a year. He'd learned to pay little attention to his body because the sight of it disgusted him. As the realization of the growths on his chest registered in his brain, he fainted straight away.
Luckily, Mrs. Fisher had remained close by and caught Janet as he slumped to the floor. Susanne wrapped the robe around him and helped him to one of the chairs that were in the room.
"What was that all about?" Susanne asked Mrs. Fisher.
"I'm not too sure, but I suspect she hasn't been paying any attention to her body. I don't think she realized she was growing breasts. Because of the way she looks, she's developed a rather effective way of detaching herself from the reality around her."
"I see.... But, how... she is a boy, isn't she?"
"Well, technically, yes. But there are any number of... let's say... abnormalities that can cause boys to develop as girls once puberty hits. To my knowledge, she hasn't been diagnosed, yet."
"But, how do you know about these... abnormalities? Are you a doctor or something?"
"Actually, yes. Doctor of Psychology. Child Psychology. I'm not practicing right now because I wanted to be there for my kids. I've kept up with the changing theories and new discoveries and I've also maintained my professional contacts. I'm planning to go back to work once my kids have grown up."
"I really don't understand. How can a boy develop into a girl?"
"Well, like I said, there are several possibilities. Sometimes hormonal imbalances occur. The human body produces both male and female hormones. It's even possible that the body can reject one type of hormone and therefore the other will dominate."
"But... "
"Is that what's wrong with me?" uttered the tiny voice in the chair. Janet had regained consciousness during Mrs. Fisher's and Susanne's conversation. "Am I going to grow up to look like a girl?"
Mrs. Fisher and Susanne looked down at Janet; the sad expression on the beautifully made up face tugged at their hearts. "I don't know, sweetie. It's possible, but you'd need to have some tests to know for sure," said Mrs. Fisher. "But, whatever it is that's causing you to grow breasts, just remember that I love you and I will be here to help you in any way that I can."
"Can anything be done to stop it?" asked Janet, sounding a little hopeful.
"I don't know, sweetie. It'll depend on what is causing your changes. In most cases, I think drugs can probably reverse it, but please don't be too eager to jump into anything. What you need right now more than anything is to talk to someone and sort out what you're feeling."
"You mean a shrink? I don't think Mom'll go for that. She thinks they're all brainwashers and quacks."
"Honey, we don't really like to be called 'shrinks'. I'm sure once your mother realizes the changes you're going through and..."
"No!" interrupted Janet abruptly. "You don't understand, Mrs. Fisher. My Mom thinks prayer is the answer for everything, the only answer. Oh, sure, she'll allow doctors to do what's needed to save my life or make me feel better when I'm sick, but she'll never let anybody play around in my head. That's God's responsibility, according to her."
"But surely, she would see that God would use us as tools to heal a troubled mind."
"No, she thinks shri... ummm... psychiatrists are tools of the Devil, here to lead us astray."
"Oh, dear.... Are you sure?"
"Yeah, I'm positive. A few years ago, I was having problems with the other kids teasing me. I refused to go to school and my dad wanted me to get some help. You know, counseling. Anyway, Mom went nuts. She started yelling stuff from The Bible. Dad gave up trying to make her see that I needed help. He never was any good at arguing with Mom. She's pretty stubborn sometimes. Anyway, I pretty much worked through it on my own -- didn't have much choice."
"Oh.... Well, for now, you can talk to me, but sometime soon you'll need to see someone else. I think I'm a little too close to you to help objectively. We'll figure out a way to get you the help you need, with or without your mother's cooperation. Don't worry, sweetie."
"Ummm..." interrupted Jacqueline. "We really need to get this show on the road."
"Yes, I agree," injected Susanne. "John'll be wondering what's taking so long. And, speaking of John...." She glanced around the room and continued, "Listen up everyone. What you have just heard doesn't leave this room, and, for God's sake, don't mention any of this to John. If he found out about this, he'd probably think of a way to prevent Janet from correcting her... ummm... condition. Okay?"
Everyone nodded in agreement, but Jacqueline was a little reluctant. She felt her loyalty belonged to John rather than Janet, but she did agree. Janet was a child and really didn't deserve to be exploited. "Now, can we get on with it?" Seeing that everyone was ready, she returned her attention to Janet, "Here you go, Janet. Please put on this bra."
The bra was a rather sexy looking lace demi-cup with quite a bit of padding. Janet put the bra on and was amazed with the results. He now possessed slight but noticeable cleavage. A look of dread washed across his face. Was this what "she" had to look forward to? And why didn't he feel more afraid of the possibility than he did?
Jacqueline handed him a pair of suntan colored pantyhose, next. Janet looked at them in confusion, but sat down and tried to put them on. Before anyone could correct his method, he ripped a hole in one of the legs from the knee to the toe. Jacqueline, in disgust, handed another pair to Mrs. Fisher. "Would you please show her how to put these on properly?"
Mrs. Fisher looked down at the shame-faced Janet. "Don't worry about it, sweetie. I'll show you how it's done. I don't think Jacqueline is used to someone who doesn't know about women's clothing."
"Mrs. Fisher, I don't like her. She's mean and I don't think she likes me very much, either."
Mrs. Fisher looked over at Jacqueline and saw a mixture of fear and embarrassment in her eyes. She returned to Janet, "Janet, she just doesn't know you yet. Once she does, I'm sure she'll like you. How can she not? You're sweet, kind, and very loveable. Give her a chance, okay?"
"Okay, I'll try."
"Great. Now, let me show how to put these on." Mrs. Fisher proceeded to show Janet how to scrunch up one of the legs of the pantyhose and gently ease it over her foot and up her leg, then repeat the process on the other. Janet almost caught her nail in the second leg, but Mr. Fisher was able to see it coming and instructed her to be careful. Once the pantyhose were on, Mrs. Fisher stood back to view the results and smiled appreciatively. "Wow! Janet, you have gorgeous legs. I'm a bit jealous."
Next came the dress. There wasn't any need for a slip because the dress had a lining. The purple Jacquard gown was sleeveless with one-inch wide shoulder straps and a snug fitting bodice. The modest, square neckline didn't reveal any cleavage, but drew attention to Janet's long, elegant neck. The full skirt of the dress began a few inches below the flare of the hips, cascading down to within a couple of inches of the floor. The only alteration was made to the waist, which needed to be taken in slightly to fit Janet's narrow waist. She looked quite fetching in a demure sort of way.
Kim slid a pair of purple satin pumps with two-inch heels on Janet's feet, which alarmed him some. He wasn't sure if he could walk in heels, but, after a few minutes and some instruction from Mrs. Fisher, he found them to be easier than he first thought.
Dennis finished with Janet's hair. Once the curlers were removed, the hair brushed out, and two pearl combs placed on either side of his head, forming an alluring cascade of curls that framed his face, Janet couldn't believe the results. Jacqueline completed the outfit with a pearl teardrop choker and pearl teardrop earrings. Clip-on, of course, since Janet didn't have his ears pierced.
Janet stood in one of mirrored partition nooks, completely amazed at the lovely young woman who stared back at him. Many thoughts were running through his mind, ranging from worrisome trepidation to dreamlike unreality to self admiration. The confusion in his mind was caused mostly by the realization that he really liked the way "she" looked... much more than he thought he had a right to.
Mrs. Fisher noticed the way Janet was admiring herself. "Well, that's encouraging," she thought. "She'll need to work through her feelings with this, but..." Coming up behind her and giving her a little hug, she said, " Oh, Janet, you look so beautiful."
"I... I can't believe it's me. It's... it's like a dream... or nightmare... maybe."
"I know. Try not to think about it too much. Enjoy yourself. Pretend you're an actor playing a part in a play."
"'Kay. I'll try. It's hard to remember I'm a boy with these clothes and seeing myself in the mirror. The real scary part is, I don't feel like one right now. Is that wrong?"
"No, sweetie. Nothing's wrong with that. You look like a very beautiful young woman and you should feel like one." Mrs. Fisher began to realize Janet had taken on air of femininity in her mannerisms and speech. She pondered on this new development, deciding no matter what it took, Janet needed to get into counseling and quickly.
Janet stared at his reflection -- no, at "her" reflection, she decided, casting aside the last vestige of male self-image -- one more time, then turned to Susanne. "'Kay, what now?"
"We go out and present you to John and Carol."
Susanne and Jacqueline held the curtain open with a flourish for Janet. Donna and Kelly both looked up as Janet glided through the opening. Their first reaction was confusion, wondering what happened to Mark; then it dawned on them and their faces lit up in awed admiration. Donna went to Mark and leaned to whisper in his ear. "Mark, I can't believe how beautiful you look."
Janet whispered back, "Donna, everyone is calling me Janet right now. Maybe you should, too. Oh, if you could tell Kelly, so she doesn't let the cat out of the bag?" Donna leaned back and returned the smile that was across Janet's face.
Donna went over to Kelly and whispered in her ear. The huge grin that grew on her face showed her amusement. She ran to Janet and hugged him, saying, "Oh, Janet. I love it. You look so beautiful. I just can't believe it."
Susanne went out into the shop to speak to John and Carol. A few moments later she came back into the dressing rooms, getting everyone's attention, she announced, "Okay ladies, John's getting impatient."
Donna and Kelly gave Janet a little hug and went out the door. Mrs. Fisher noticed a brief moment of terror flash across Janet's face, but it vanished quickly; she couldn't help but note the change in Janet's attitude.
Susanne stopped Janet just before she went through the door. "Janet, I think you should know..." she hesitated, "we've seem to have picked up quite an audience. I just wanted you to be aware of it. Try to ignore them. Remember, you're the star here." She gave Janet a final inspection, trying to gauge her state of mind as well as checking for anything out of place.
Mrs. Fisher was standing next to Janet and noticed a slight shudder run through her body, but there was no sign of the fear she had expected. "Janet, sweetie? Are you okay?"
"I'm okay," answered Janet, then turning to Susanne, she asked, "Where did everyone come from? I mean, why?"
"I don't really know. Word of a photo shoot must have gotten around, I suppose."
"Well, I guess I'd better get out there."
"Are you sure you're okay?" asked Mrs. Fisher again. Janet's lack of fear was something she found just a little unusual and she wondered whether it was a defensive reaction that might backfire. "You don't seem too upset about the crowd."
Janet smiled tentatively. "Well, it's not like there's anything I can do about it. And besides, I kinda doubt anybody's gonna know about me. I still can't believe what I look like right now."
"You do look lovely, sweetie," she smiled knowingly. Janet seemed to be accepting her situation and it was true that if she hadn't been there when Janet was getting ready, she might not have recognized her. Mrs. Fisher made a mental note to keep a close eye on Janet. "I think you're taking all this rather well. But just remember, if it feels like you're losing control or just need to talk, I'm here for you. Okay?"
"I'm glad to know that. I don't really know why, but I feel different somehow. Kinda like I'm not me anymore."
"You do seem different," noted Mrs. Fisher. "I think we need to talk about it tonight. But right now, you'd better get moving."
Janet nodded and walked out of the room. When she entered the shop, she briefly glanced at the crowd and noticed Mayhem and his crew. It was hard not to -- they were yelling and whistling at her. "What the hell are they doing here?" she thought. Karen and Sylvia looked stunned, as did Mr. Fisher and Charlie. Janet turned and glided to the stage, where John, Carol, Donna, and Kelly were waiting.
Carol couldn't believe the vision of loveliness that stood before her eyes. When was this boy going to stop taking her by surprise? Then Carol realized that the only reason for her shock was that he was a boy... or was he? To look at the girl standing in front of her now, she found it hard to see the boy that she thought was there. Carol decided that she was going to have to start to thinking of him as her, if for no other reason than to keep from making a slip that might cause her business a lot of embarrassment. John was right; Janet was the perfect choice.
Charlie was having a rough time of it. Here he was, surrounded by several of the most beautiful girls in the bay area, and he couldn't keep his eyes off of Mark. He kept telling himself that the absolutely gorgeous beauty in the purple dress was Mark, a boy, but it didn't seem to matter. She was the most beautiful creature he could remember ever laying eyes on. Her sensual magnetism was making him hot and uncomfortable. He suddenly jumped up and briskly walked out of the shop.
Mr. Fisher, noticing Charlie's abrupt exit, followed him out of the shop. "Charlie? What was that all about?"
Charlie stopped and turned to his father, shaking his head. "I just need some air. Kinda stuffy in there with all those people."
"A little disconcerting, huh?" asked his father, reading between the lines of his son's explanation. "I know how you feel. She... ummm... I mean, he, is quite attractive."
"That's just it! I keep trying to keep in mind that's a 'he' up there, but every time I look, all I see is this gorgeous girl. Dad, it's driving me nuts. And it's not just now, either. Hell, ever since this morning when she... I mean, he, came into the kitchen...."
"Come on, son. Let's go and get something to drink," said Mr. Fisher as he put his arm across Charlie's shoulder and propelled him towards the food court. "Look, Charlie. Don't let it get you down. My perception of Mark has changed, too. I don't think I'll ever see a boy again. We'll have to get used to it. I got a feeling she's going to be around a lot. See, I can't even remember to say 'he'."
"Dad, this is just too weird. I don't know if I can get used to it, but I'll try."
"It won't be so tough. Just don't worry about thinking of her as a girl."
Charlie could only shrug. How can he tell his father that the sight of Mark turned him on like no other girl ever had? Charlie briefly toyed with the idea that he might be gay, but cast that thought aside because he didn't see a boy when he thought of Mark. He saw a girl, a very beautiful and sexy girl.
Karen and Sylvia, after their initial shock, were getting into the spirit of the event. The sight of Mayhem and his crew making fools of themselves nearly had them rolling on the floor, laughing. Charlie's reaction didn't help, either. When the laughter wound down, the girls began to notice the hatred in the eyes of the three previous models.
Karen could sympathize with them, although she didn't think they knew that Mark was a boy. She felt a slight amount of jealousy, but it was counteracted by the love she also felt for Mark. The jealousy stemmed from the fact that Karen had been going to the Barbizon School of Modeling and had aspirations of becoming a model. And here was Mark, a boy who is becoming a model, a female one at that. Part of her felt sorry for him because it must be tough for him to be seen as a girl. Karen's emotions were a jumble of conflicting feelings, but the most puzzling thought was that she felt a little more attraction to him. The image of a sexy girl coupled with the knowledge that this girl was a boy sent her hormones coursing through her body.
The hours flew by for Janet. She had to make six wardrobe changes, had her hairstyle changed three times and her makeup redone four times. It seemed to Janet that each time she had to make a change, she looked older and more sophisticated. By the time the last change was made, she thought she looked nearly twenty. She was wearing a white silk evening gown -- she was told it was a prom dress -- and her hair had been done up into a French twist. The diamond necklace, tennis bracelet, and drop earrings added an air that spoke of immense wealth, although Janet knew they had to be fakes. Still, she felt like a million bucks.
Donna and Kelly had to go through the same changes, but not as many times. Just the same, it was a blast playing dress up and getting their picture taken, especially when they were being dressed up by pros. All in all, the three girls had a lot of fun.
As John was finishing the final scene he'd set up, Carol had an inspiration and whispered in John's ear.
John's eyes lit up and a large smile beamed from ear to ear. "Carol, that's brilliant. Can it be set up in time?"
"I think the mall management would go for it. After all, we could turn it into a sort of media event."
"Wonderful," replied John, then turning to the girls on the stage, "Ladies, that'll be it for today. Well done. Janet, you were remarkable. I just knew that the camera would like you."
As Janet, Donna, and Kelly returned to the dressing room, Janet couldn't help feel a bit sad that it was all over. Donna saw the unhappiness that was evident on Janet's face and asked, "Janet? What's wrong, sweetie?"
"Oh, nothing," replied Janet with a shrug.
Mrs. Fisher walked into the room at just that moment. She glanced from Donna to Janet. Cognizant of Janet's gloomy demeanor, she addressed the young lady. "What's the matter, sweetie?"
"Nothin..."
"Oh no. Don't give me that," she said cutting her off. "You know how I feel about lies. Now, out with it, young lady."
"I'm sorry. It's just... well... I can't remember the last time I felt this good... about myself. This has been kinda like a dream that I really don't want to wake up from. I'm just a little sad that it's all ending. At the same time, I know it has to end. I mean...."
"Ohhh, sweetie," consoled Mrs. Fisher as she hugged Janet. Donna joined in the embrace as well. "I think we need to have a serious discussion when we get home." She released Janet and held her at arm's length. "But right now, you need to get out of that dress and into your street clothes. Oh, and Carol wants to see all of us in the manager's office after you've changed."
Janet nodded reluctantly and made her way back to her private dressing room.