Thursday, June 29, 2017

Intervention

Dear Readers,

This story was meant as another of my 'scenes from family life' series, where lots of family members witness the feminization of one of the members, and even get feminized themselves in the course of the story. However, as I realize that father-son feminzation stories do not blow everyone's skirt up, I re-wrote the story to a more conventional setting. Beside the feminization itself, I wanted to explore the feeling of being trapped in the good intentions of someone who just wants what's best for everyone.
I present both versions, so that you can pick the one you like. Or, better yet, read both and tell me which one you like best.

Hope you like it!

Kindly,

Rosie.


Version 1


“Hello, everyone, sorry I’m late,” my mother in law calls out as she lets herself into my parent’s living room.
“Hi, Eunice, Norm,” she greets my parents as she confidently hands me her coat and bag, and sits down on the couch.
“Hello, Vera,” I say.
“Hi, Phil,” she nods at me, then she sees Rachel coming from the kitchen. She gets up to hug and kiss her daughter, then sits down again.
“Great,” my wife, Rachel, says and sits down next to me, “Then we can begin.”
“Begin?” my father says, bemused, “With what?”
Ignoring him, she straightens out in her seat and places her left hand in my lap, not so much for me to support her as to keep me from running away.
“I have initiated this intervention,” she says solemnly, “To address Norm’s desire to become a woman.”
“What?” Vera spits out, “What is that all about?”
“I assure you I have no such desire,” my father says nervously.
“Norm?” Rachel says calmly, ignoring his words again, “Why don’t you explain to my mother what this is about?”
My father draws a deep breath.
“Two weeks ago, Rachel caught me trying on Eunice’s dress,” he says hotly.
“Ooh!” Vera cries out.
“Norm, be honest, you were more than trying it on,” my wife says sternly.
“OK, yes,” my father admits, “I wasn’t just trying it on.”
“You can only try a dress on once,” my wife persists, “But that wasn’t the case, now, was it?”
“No,” my father says, “I’ve worn the dress before.”
“I’m only trying to get all the facts,” Rachel says in mock defence.
“However, I have since discussed this with Eunice,” my father says energetically, “And while all this is embarrassing, I can assure you that that’s all that there is to it. I have no desire whatsoever to become a woman. In fact, as far as I am concerned, we can close the subject.”
“No, honey,” my mother says, “We need to talk things out.”
“I beg your pardon?” he says, surprised, “I thought we have.”
“It’s not that simple,” my mother says, smiling awkwardly.
“Well, then couldn’t we have at least discussed it in private?” my father says, noticeably annoyed, “Do we really have to do it like that? How do you think this makes me feel?”
“Well, how do you think this makes me feel?” my mother says, agitated.
“Now, now,” Rachel says calmingly, “Let’s not get too excited here. Norm, I think you may have an oversimplified view of the matter.”
My father smiles nervously, paces a little bit around the room and fidgets as he sums up the courage to meet my wife’s gaze.
“On the contrary, Rachel,” he says with a nervous smile, trying to contain his rising anger, “I think that it is you who are blowing things out of proportion here.”
My wife draws an annoyed breath and a deathly silence befalls the room.
“I’m sorry,” my father says finally, “I didn’t mean to be rude, but I really think that we are making a big deal out of something that isn’t.”
“That is what we’re here to find out, aren’t we?” my wife replies.
“I suppose so,” my father says.
“I’m glad we agree on that,” she says, “I’m sure that you will also agree we can’t really discuss something we have no real knowledge about.”
“Of course not,” my father agrees eagerly.
“Then I think it’s time for you to change into a dress,” she says.
“Absolutely not!” my father retorts.
“Why not?” my mother says dryly, “It’s what you want, isn’t it?”
“In private,” he hisses, “Not like this.”
“Norm?” Rachel says, “We have all taken the time and effort to help you, and your wife, with the new situation you are dealing with. Don’t you think you owe us at least some effort from your side? You said you yourself we can’t discuss what we don’t know. I think we all agree it will help this intervention if you put on a dress, don’t we?”
“Oh, by all means,” Vera says excitedly.
“Actually, I…” I begin, but Rachel looks at me sternly.
“Yes?” she says.
“Nothing,” I say, defeated before my ten years older wife, and drop my gaze into my lap.
As I slowly lift my eyes off the floor, I see Vera’s warm, comforting smile. I am tempted to take it as unspoken consolation, but I know that is simply a sign of approval of my total obedience to her daughter. It is, after all, what she demands for herself, not just from me but, in different degrees, from everyone on the room.
“I understand you now have some dresses of your own?” Rachel turns to my father again.
“Rachel, please?” he stutters, fighting tears, “I’m a transvestite, not a transsexual. Transsexuals want to become actual women, but transvestites just wear women’s clothes because it gives them sexual pleasure.”
“Be that as it may,” my wife replies kindly, yet dismissively, “Won’t you be so kind and change into some women’s clothes so that we can carry this discussion further? Perhaps that new black and white polka dot dress? The one with the ruffled collar and the cup sleeves? I understood from Eunice you liked it a lot.”
Ashen faced, my father wordlessly creeps out of the room.
“Why are you looking at Phil like that?” Rachel asks her mother.
“Oh, nothing,” she smiles dismissively, “I just can’t help thinking. You know what they say – a seed doesn’t fall far from the apple.”
“Oh, mother!” Rachel exclaims, sending a chill up my spine.
“He would make a good looking woman,” Vera says, “Not too much muscle on him, he’s really not very tall, and those eyelashes… Why, I bed he’d make a prettier woman than you, Rachel!”
“Now you’ve gone and insulted the both of us,” Rachel says, smilingly, “Seriously, though, Eunice, has Phil ever dressed up like a girl?”
“Not that I know of, no,” my mother replies.
“That doesn’t mean he wouldn’t like to,” Vera says, “Maybe he’s just a late bloomer, like his father.”
“How about that?” Rachel says to me, “Would you like to dress up in women’s clothes, too?”
“No, dear,” I reply, frightened.
“But honey,” Rachel says, “How can you say that if you’ve never tried?
“That’s what we can do next time you visit, then,” Vera says happily.
I shoot a panicking glance at my mother. Instead of help, she simply raises an amused eyebrow.
“My old dresses might fit you just fine,” she muses.
“But if I don’t like it, I don’t have to wear them?” I say.
“It’s best if you try it for a couple of days,” Vera says, “It might grow on you.”
“Couple of days?” I panic, but no one pays any attention to me anymore. A distinctive clacking sound announces the arrival of my father.
His masculine hairstyle gives him away at the first glance, but although his makeup looks rather hastily applied, it is not difficult to imagine him as a woman. Below the neck, the ruffled bodice, the narrow waistline and the flared skirt of his dress deftly conceal any remaining manly features, and it is not lost on any of us how adept he is at walking in high heels.
“Now Norm,” Rachel says to him as she sits down by my mother, “You’re not really wearing this dress for sexual pleasure right now, are you?”
“No,” he whispers in reply.
“Well, then,” Rachel says triumphantly, “That’s one question already answered.”
“Rachel, I swear…” he begins to explain in panic.
“Shhh,” she silences him softly, “I appreciate how embarrassing this must be for you.”
He nods gratefully.
“Which is all the more reason to believe that there is much more than just sexual gratification behind your desires to dress like a woman,” Rachel says.
Tears are welling up behind his eyes.
“I’m only wearing the dress because you told me to,” he whispers, “Not because I want to become a woman.”
“Norm, Norm,” she smiles, “You owe it to yourself, and to everyone here today, to explore your desires, and to get to the bottom of this, don’t you think?”
“I… I… I guess so,” he stammers.
“Now, Eunice has been very understanding and accommodating so far, wouldn’t you agree?” she says.
“Oh, yes,” my father says.
“Then you will also agree that she does not deserve to be punished for her kindness with a life of secrecy and uncertainty,” my wife says kindly, yet decisively.
“What do you mean?” my father replies, worriedly.
“I mean that you can’t keep changing back and forth whenever it suits you,” Rachel says, “Because it’s not just you that’s affected by this, but Eunice, too. She deserves stability in her life.”
“But, honey,” he turns to my mother, “We’ve been through this. I thought you understood…”
“Just listen to what Rachel has to say,” my mother replies.
“I’m saying that you should live as a woman until you figure out what you really want, Norm,” she says.
“Well, in that case, it’s quite clear,” he says hastily, “I don’t want any of that. I’m done. Okay?”
“No,” my mother says, “You’ve tried that before, and look at you now.”
“But I can’t…” my father stammers, “What about work? What about our friends?”
“You better pick a name,” Rachel says.
“Name?” he repeats.
“I don’t suppose you’ll still want to be called Norm from now on?” Rachel muses.
“I.. I..” my father stammers.
“I quite like Melissa,” Vera says.
“Melissa?” my mother says.
“Maybe it’s the dress, but he, I mean, she looks like a Melissa to me,” Vera replies.
“I’m not sure about that,” my mother says.
“Luise? Heather? Beatrice?” Vera suggests.
“Melissa is fine,” Rachel says.
“No!” my father says, standing up, “I’m not doing any of this. I’m sorry, but no! Enough is enough.”
“Melissa!” Rachel hisses, “We came here today to offer you a helping hand in your life. If you don’t want that help, fine. But we’re also here because we love Eunice very much, and we’ll be damned if we don’t make sure that she’s done right by.”
“Damn right,” Vera says menacingly, getting up.
A moment of tense silence passes. I note that my father’s mascara is streaked with tears.
“Mother?” Rachel says to Vera, “I think we have discussed all that needed to be discussed today. Why don’t you take Phil home?”
“My pleasure,” she says and offers me her elbow in a gentlemanly fashion.
Although it’s embarrassing, I take it welcomingly.
“Better yet?” Rachel says as we head out towards the door, “I might have to stay with Eunice and Melissa for a couple of days. Why don’t you take him to your place instead? I’d hate to leave him all alone for so long.”
“Oh, yes!” my mother in law enthuses, and gives me her handbag. Silently, we walk towards her car. There, she opens the passenger door for me, then waits until I get in, closes it and sits in the driver’s seat.
“Keep that handbag in your lap, honey,” she says to me.
“Yes, Vera,” I say.
“And please,” she says, “Call me mummy.”
I watch the road as she drives off.
“Mummy?” I begin warily, “Shouldn’t you take that right turn just now?”
“Whatever for?” she replies, “I’m taking you to my place, not yours, remember?”
“Yes, but I’ll need to take some clothes from home before,” I say.
“No need for that,” she says merrily, “I’m taking you shopping instead.”
“Shopping?” I say.

“Remember what we talked about?” she winks at me, “After all, why should Rachel get all the fun?”


Version 2



“Hello, everyone, sorry I’m late,” Vera calls out as she lets herself into our living room.
“Hi, girls,” she says as she confidently hands me her coat and bag, and sits down on the couch.
I note in wonder that our house has suddenly filled up with my wife’s girlfriends. Beside Vera, there’s also Rachel, Barbara and Jennifer, as well as my wife, Eunice, of course.
“Hello, Vera,” I say.
“Hi, Phil,” she nods at me, then she sees Rachel coming from the kitchen together with Eunice. She gets up to hug and kiss them, then sits down again.
“Great,” Rachel, says and sits down next to me, “Then we can begin.”
“Begin?” I say, bemused, “With what?”
Ignoring me, she straightens out in her seat and places her left hand on my thigh. Alarmed, I look at my wife, but she just nods in approval.
 “I have initiated this intervention,” Rachel says solemnly, “To address Phil’s desire to become a woman.”
“What?” Vera spits out, “What is that all about?”
“I assure you I have no such desire,” I say nervously.
“Phil?” Rachel says calmly, ignoring my words again, “Why don’t you explain to Vera what this is about?”
I draw a deep breath.
“Two weeks ago, Rachel caught me trying on Eunice’s dress,” I say hotly.
“Ooh!” Vera cries out.
“Phil, be honest, you were more than trying it on,” Rachel says sternly.
“OK, yes,” I admit, “I wasn’t just trying it on.”
“You can only try a dress on once,” Rachel persists, “But that wasn’t the case, now, was it?”
“No,” I say, “I’ve worn the dress before.”
“I’m only trying to get all the facts,” Rachel says in mock defence.
“However, I have since discussed this with Eunice,” I say energetically, “And while all this is embarrassing, I can assure you that that’s all that there is to it. I have no desire whatsoever to become a woman. In fact, as far as I am concerned, we can close the subject.”
“No, honey,” Eunice says, “We need to talk things out.”
“I beg your pardon?” I say, surprised, “I thought we have.”
“It’s not that simple,” Eunice says, smiling awkwardly.
“Well, then couldn’t we have at least discussed it in private?” I say, trying to contain my anger, “Do we really have to do it like that? How do you think this makes me feel?”
“Well, how do you think this makes me feel?” my wife says, agitated.
“Now, now,” Rachel says calmingly, “Let’s not get too excited here. Phil, I think you may have an oversimplified view of the matter.”
I smile nervously, pace a little bit around the room and fidget with my fingers as I sum up the courage to meet Rachel’s gaze.
“On the contrary, Rachel,” say with a nervous smile, trying to contain my rising anger, “I think that it is you who are blowing things out of proportion here.”
Rachel draws an annoyed breath and a deathly silence befalls the room.
“I’m sorry,” I say after a moment, “I didn’t mean to be rude, but I really think that we are making a big deal out of something that isn’t.”
“That is what we’re here to find out, aren’t we?” she replies.
“I suppose so,” I say.
“I’m glad we agree on that,” she says, “I’m sure that you will also agree we can’t really discuss something we have no real knowledge about.”
“Of course not,” I eagerly agree.
“Then I think it’s time for you to change into a dress,” she says.
“Absolutely not!” I retort.
“Why not?” Eunice says dryly, “It’s what you want, isn’t it?”
“In private,” he hisses, “Not like this.”
“Phil?” Rachel says, “We have all taken the time and effort to help you, and your wife, with the new situation you are dealing with. Don’t you think you owe us at least some effort from your side? You said you yourself we can’t discuss what we don’t know. I think we all agree it will help this intervention if you put on a dress, don’t we?”
“Oh, by all means,” Vera says excitedly.
“Why don’t you just stay out of this?” I snap back at her, and I instantly know I’ve made a mistake.
Her face is sporting a strained smile masking her anger. Slowly, she gets up, walks towards me and menacingly places both hands on my shoulders. Propped up by the chunky two inch heels of her cowboy boots, she stands a full head taller than me. As she has the aggressive personality to match her physique, she is the informal leader of the group, so I wonder who is actually behind this intervention. Then again, if it was her idea, she probably wouldn’t have let anyone else lead it this far, and Rachel does have the do-good streak in her that makes her meddle in everyone’s lives. Barbara and Jennifer? They are just along for the ride.
“Phil?” she says.
“Yes?” I reply, fearfully, fully aware that everyone in the room can see how she frightens me.
“Be nice,” she says, “We are here to help you. I know that this must be stressful for you, so I’ll look the other way this time, but I will not tolerate another such outburst of rudeness. Understood?”
“Yes,” I whisper, “Sorry, Vera.”
“That’s better,” she says, “Now why don’t you do as Rachel says?”
Panicking, I shake my head.
“Phil?” she smiles, “Don’t make me make you.”
“That’s enough, Vera,” Rachel says and Vera sits down again. I feel relieved for a moment, but then she turns to me again.
“I understand you now have some dresses of your own?” Rachel says to me..
“Rachel, please?” I stutter, fighting tears, “I’m a transvestite, not a transsexual. Transsexuals want to become actual women, but transvestites just wear women’s clothes because it gives them sexual pleasure.”
“Be that as it may,” Rachel replies kindly, yet dismissively, “Won’t you be so kind and change into some women’s clothes so that we can carry this discussion further? Perhaps that new black and white polka dot dress? The one with the ruffled collar and the cup sleeves? I understood from Eunice you liked it a lot.”
I can feel the blood drain from my face as she describes the dress that, until now, I though Eunice had bought for me. Without another word, I scurry away from the room.
As I walk towards the bedroom, I deliberate whether I should wear just the dress or anything else along with it, and if so, what exactly, but as I reach my destination I see that the choice had already been made for me. My dress is neatly laid out on the bed, along with a set of black silky lingerie, black nylons and my pair of patent white pumps with the four inch heels.
After I have changed into the clothes that were chosen for me, I get the sudden impulse to do my makeup. Although I know my skills in this department are seriously lacking, I have a quick go. I skip the eyeliner and blush, but I do apply some foundation, mascara, eyeshadow and lipstick. Walking out, I take a last look at me in the full length mirror.
My masculine hairstyle gives me away at the first glance, but it is not difficult to imagine me as a woman as, below the neck, the ruffled bodice, the narrow waistline and the flared skirt of my dress deftly conceal any remaining manly features. My makeup looks rather hastily applied, but as I make my way back towards the living room, the fact I can easily walk in my high heeled shoes restores my confidence.
 “Now Phil,” Rachel says to me as I sits down by my wife, “You’re not really wearing this dress for sexual pleasure right now, are you?”
“No,” I whispers in reply.
“Well, then,” Rachel says triumphantly, “That’s one question already answered.”
“Rachel, I swear…” I begins to explain in panic.
“Shhh,” she silences me softly, “I appreciate how embarrassing this must be for you.”
I nods gratefully.
“Which is all the more reason to believe that there is much more than just sexual gratification behind your desires to dress like a woman,” Rachel says.
Tears are welling up behind my eyes.
“I’m only wearing the dress because you told me to,” I whisper, “Not because I want to become a woman.”
“Phil,” she smiles, “You owe it to yourself, and to everyone here today, to explore your desires, and to get to the bottom of this, don’t you think?”
“I… I… I guess so,” I stammer.
“Now, Eunice has been very understanding and accommodating so far, wouldn’t you agree?” she says.
“Oh, yes,” I say.
“Then you will also agree that she does not deserve to be punished for her kindness with a life of secrecy and uncertainty,” Rachel says kindly, yet decisively.
“What do you mean?” I reply, worriedly.
“I mean that you can’t keep changing back and forth whenever it suits you,” Rachel says, “Because it’s not just you that’s affected by this, but Eunice, too. She deserves stability in her life.”
“But, honey,” I turn to Eunice, “We’ve been through this. I thought you understood…”
“Just listen to what Rachel has to say,” she replies.
“I’m saying that you should live as a woman until you figure out what you really want, Phil,” she says.
“Well, in that case, it’s quite clear,” I say hastily, “I don’t want any of that. I’m done. Okay?”
“No,” my wife says, “You’ve tried that before, and look at you now.”
“But I can’t…” I stammer, “What about work? What about our friends and family?”
“You better pick a name,” Rachel says.
“Name?” I dumbly repeat.
“I don’t suppose you’ll still want to be called Phil from now on?” Rachel muses.
“I.. I..” I stammer.
“I quite like Melissa,” Vera says.
“Melissa?” my wife says.
“Maybe it’s the dress, but he, I mean, she looks like a Melissa to me,” Vera replies.
“I’m not sure about that,” my wife says.
“Luise? Heather? Beatrice?” Vera suggests.
“Melissa is fine,” Rachel says.
“No!” I say, standing up, “I’m not doing any of this. I’m sorry, but no! Enough is enough.”
“Melissa!” Rachel hisses, “We came here today to offer you a helping hand in your life. If you don’t want that help, fine. But we’re also here because we love Eunice very much, and we’ll be damned if we don’t make sure that she’s done right by.”
“Damn right,” Vera says menacingly, getting up.
A moment of tense silence passes. As I feel tears trickling down my face, I can’t help to wonder if they’re leaving black streaks on my cheeks.
“Honey?” I turn to Eunice, “Can’t we talk this out?”
“But honey,” she replies, mocking my tearful tone, “We just have.”
“May I suggest something?” Vera says.
“Sure?” Rachel replies.
“I can see that Melissa is not yet fully convinced about our decision,” she says, “Why doesn’t she come to stay with me for a couple of days, until she gets on board with it?”
“Actually, I was going to offer to stay with Eunice and Melissa to help them with that precisely,” Rachel replies.
“I thought you might,” Vera says.
“Well, it would make more sense that what you’re suggesting, wouldn’t it?” Rachel says.
“No, I don’t think so,” Vera replies, “I think Eunice could do with some time for herself.”
“I won’t argue with that,” my wife says.
“In that case?” Vera says to her, “Would you be so kind and pack Melissa’s essentials?”
“Right away,” Eunice says.
“Oh, there’s no rush,” Vera says, “Jennifer can bring them over later on, my place’s on the way to hers. Melissa and I should best get moving right away.”
She offers me her elbow in a gentlemanly fashion. Although it’s embarrassing, I take it welcomingly. Suddenly, the prospect of leaving the house dressed in women’s clothes doesn’t worry me as much anymore.
“Wait,” Rachel says suddenly, “Don’t you maybe need some help…? With everything…?”
“Oh, I’m sure Melissa will be no trouble at all,” Vera replies.

“I won’t argue with that,” I muse quietly as we walk towards the front door, accompanied by the clacking of our heels reverberating down the hallway.

3 comments:

LES DAVIS said...

Definitely version 2. Superbly plotted and written as usual and much better without the father/son complication. Ticks all the boxes for me, "enforced" petticoating in front of a group of women being my particular favourite scenario. Can't wait for "what happens next", I'm sure a couple of days with Vera will be very exciting!

Sissy Giselle said...

Version 2, for sure!! Vera looks like who knows exactly what to do next. Poor siss... erm... Phil!!

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