AS GOOD AS A WOMAN (Part 4 of 6)

by Denise Em
Chapter VI

I awakened in surprise at brightness of the daylight streaming
through my window.  I had slept soundly, clear into midmorning.
I closed my eyes again, and waited, listening to the sounds
coming from outside.  This was supposed to be a laid-back
day for me.  I hadn't scheduled anything for the whole day.  I
turned over, away from the light, before I tried opening my
eyelids again.

My expectations of a carefree day were shattered by the sight
of the clothing draped over drawer.  It would be rude to return
dirty clothing to the people who'd lent me the various items of
yesterday's outfit, and the suit probably had to be dry-cleaned.

That was just the beginning.  Jean would be expecting me over
for dinner, and ...

"Oh, heavens!" I thought aloud.  I hadn't told Diane or Kate
about Elaine's request.  What if they can't - or won't - help me?

I was overwhelmed with a feeling of doom.  What if they did
help me?  The whole idea of working as "Tess" for an entire week
was utterly crazy.  It would get back to regional management, and
then Elaine and I would both be fired.  Wouldn't that look great
on my next job application: "fired because I came to work dressed
as a woman."  I didn't dare ask for help, but, after my promise
to Elaine, I didn't dare not ask, either.

I threw off the covers and stomped into the bathroom, in the
hope that I'd think more clearly after a shower.

After I dried off, I had to move yesterday's clothing to get
at some fresh underwear.  The sensation of the slip sliding
across my forearm raised goosebumps.  As I placed the pile on my
bed, I regarded the underclothing I'd been wearing several hours
earlier.  I had enjoyed the silky envelopment of the panties
around my loins.  I didn't miss the bra, with its band cinching
my torso, and straps digging into my shoulders, nor the girdle -
although a pleasant side effect of wearing it had been not
getting anything pinched whenever I sat down.  The slip, on the
other hand, had provided a delightful tickle on my legs whenever
I was moving around.

I picked the panties up, enjoying again the silky feeling of
the material in my hands.  Suddenly, I wished that they were
clean.  With a sigh, I dropped them back onto the pile, and
turned to my chest of drawers for my own clothing.

Still struggling with what I'd do about next week, I put off
calling anyone until after breakfast - or rather, brunch.

It was eleven thirty.  If I waited too long, Kate might not
be home.

My phone rang.

I wasn't even thinking about how I answered it.

"Good morning," I heard Kate's cheerful greeting.  "Is this
Ted or Tess?"

My voice dropped a full octave.

"Very funny, Kate," I replied, drolly.

"Ah, it IS Ted," she said.

"Look, as long as you called," I opened, "I need to ask a
favor."

"Yes, I know," she told me.  "Elaine called me this morning,
asking if I would help you."

"I take it that she didn't have much confidence that I'd
follow through."

"Not at all.  It was more like she feared you wouldn't get
any cooperation."

"Jean called, too," Kate added, "to ask if I could handle the
dinner arrangements tonight.  She has to go down to her folks'
this afternoon.  It seems everyone wants my favors today."

I ignored the double entente, "Maybe I should call in sick
next week."

"Why?" she exclaimed.  "We can get you set up with whatever
you'll need."

"Kate!  This isn't going to work.  Sooner or later, someone
is going to figure me out, or someone in the office will blow my
cover."

"No one did last night," Kate reminded me.  "And Elaine was
already asking around the office, yesterday, to see if everyone
would keep their mouths shut about you."

It took a little more talking, but she eventually had me
marginally convinced that I'd be all right next week.  Then she
invited me to her place for dinner at 4:00 PM.

I accepted - remarking that I'd had breakfast late, so why
not an early dinner.

She replied that dinner wouldn't be ready until 8:00.  Better
still, she suggested, how soon could I come over?  We'd make a
day of it.

Of what?  Getting me ready for next week, of course.

I told her I'd have to take yesterday's suit to the
dry-cleaner's first.

Kate advised that it was washable, in cool water, using the
delicate cycle.  Then she asked if I could come over right away.

I couldn't think of any reason not to, so I said yes.  In a
few minutes, I was on my way.  I had no way of knowing that it
would be nearly midnight before I returned.

As soon as I arrived at her place, she sent me down the hall
to her bathroom, insisting that I wear a pair of ladies' white
nylon briefs and camisole under my clothes, instead of my own
underwear.  Despite my feelings that morning, I was resistant.  I
didn't want her to know that I liked the feel of the silky
underwear.  She told me to wait there, then went into her bedroom
and brought out a pair of pantyhose.

"These too," she ordered.

I didn't move fast enough to suit her.

"Better hurry, before I get more adventuresome," she warned
with a mischievous giggle.

Shaking my head in bewilderment, I did her bidding.

"Come on - time's wasting," she urged, when I came out.

"Where are we going?"

"Lots of places," she said.  "We have to get groceries for
dinner, arrange for you to have clothes to wear to work, and get
you set up with your own makeup."

"Makeup?"

"You can't expect to borrow someone else's for a whole week."

That made sense, but I bemoaned spending the money.

"Look," she explained, "If you want to do it right, it's
going to take a little money.  Think of it as an investment -
Elaine told me what she'd promised you for this gig."

"She didn't promise me the promotion - only her help."

Incredulously, she asked, "You think if she's signs the
request, it isn't a lock?"

"IF she signs," I reminded her.

"Ted, paranoia is clouding your mind.  Of all the people I've
ever known, Elaine has been the most ... reliable ... at honoring
her word.  She says it, she DOES it.  You should know that as
well as I do, by now."

I mentioned that she deserved a promotion as much as I did,
and that helping me with this could actually be giving me an
unfair advantage over her.

Kate's response was that she was my friend, and she was happy
to help me.  It would be bad karma for her own prospects if she
didn't help when she could.  She said it so kindly, I couldn't
argue.

Once we were out doing the errands, I was glad I'd worn a
sweatshirt.  The sensation of the camisole fabric rubbing against
my nipples kept them taut.  Moreover, something thinner - like a
T-shirt - would have let the lace trim show through, too.

Kate led me on what was, for me, a unique tour through the
regional shopping center.  At first we just went from store to
store looking at the displays.  She wanted to see what I thought
looked good and what I didn't like.  Then we went into the
largest department store there, straight to the lingerie section.
Again, she picked out various articles, asking my opinion.
Likewise, at the shoe store.

Our last stop of this trip was for groceries.  When I saw the
cosmetics aisle, I asked if we were getting mine there.  She said
no, explaining that it would be almost impossible to get the
right shades on the first try.  We'd be going to a specialty shop
instead, where I could get a custom match.

"Won't that be expensive?"

"Not as expensive as getting the wrong shades and having to
buy more."

First, we went back to her place, to put the groceries away.
Then, saying that she had some private errands to complete, she
told me to enjoy a nice soak in her tub while she was gone.

"I took a shower this morning," I objected, "I can't smell
bad already."

"You smell just fine ... for a man.  However, Tess will need
a different air about her," Kate explained.  "Besides, how long
has it been since you've enjoyed a long, leisurely, bubble bath?
Twenty years?"

I shrugged in accession.

"When you're finished, use this bath powder all over your
body.  I'll leave out a clean set of underwear for you."

I started the water running and added the bath oil.

On the sink counter, Kate deposited a pastel blue camisole
and panty set, plus another pair of pantyhose.

She was away nearly two hours.

Our last trip of the day was to a little cluster of shops
away from the main part of the city.  It was nearly closing time
when we entered the studio.

The lady inside was pleasant and unassuming.  Kate explained
what I needed (the works!) and Mara brought out color swatches,
charts.  She then steered me over to a mirror ringed by lamps
which could be adjusted to different hues.  By the time we were
done, it was getting dark, and my Master Card balance had grown
by eighty dollars.

At first, I wasn't going outside that shop until they let me
clean everything off.  However, Kate had prepared for this.  She
went out to her car and came back with a cylindrical box and a
bag.  The bag contained a bra, a set of pads for it, and a pair
of high heeled sandals in navy.  The box contained a wig, longer
than the one I'd worn Friday, and in a lighter shade.

"Good thing I had you wear panty hose, isn't it?" Kate
observed.

I was still resistant.

Kate must have been a champion debater in college, every time
it came to something that was important to her, she got her way.

They had me walk around the shop for a few minutes to get
used to the wobbly nature of sandals with high heels.  Then Kate
and I were let out of the shop, so Mara could close up.

When we got back to her place, Kate insisted that I take off
the sweatshirt and jeans and wear something more appropriate.
She went to her room and brought out a sleeveless sun shift,
which buttoned up the back.  Handing it to me, she turned me
toward the bathroom.

"Hurry up.  I'm going to need your help preparing dinner."

It took some doing, removing the wig without mussing it, so I
could get the sweatshirt off.  I also had trouble reaching the
buttons at my back to fasten the dress.

After the wig was back in place, I folded up my clothes, and
carried them out with me.  Still in the hallway, I called,
"What'll I do with my clothes?"

Kate called back, "I hope you're wearing them."

I reached the kitchen door.

"You told me to put on this dress."

"That's right," she said, as she took the bundle from my
hands.  She walked back into her bedroom.

When she returned, she reached behind the pantry door.

"Here's an apron to protect your dress."

I put it on, and began helping her get dinner ready.

"I had no idea, when I accepted the bet," I chuckled, "that
I'd still have to prepare the dinners I'd won."

"You don't have to help, Tess," she said, "if you don't mind
waiting until midnight to eat."

I tried not to show that I'd noticed her switch to the
feminine appellation.

"I'll help, all ready.  I haven't eaten since this morning."

"That's how we girls keep our trim figures," she said, as she
gave my waist a quick hug.

The rest of the evening - through the meal, and the cleanup
afterward - she made a running critique of my actions, voice
quality, and vocabulary.  It seemed that nearly everything she
said to me involved some variant of, "A woman doesn't ... " or
"This is the way a woman ..."

Once again, I drove home dressed as a woman.  Now I had two
feminine outfits that needed to be cleaned and returned - or so I
thought.  It would be well into the next day before I would begin
to realize that I was being carefully conditioned to ENJOY
functioning in a feminine mode.


Chapter VII

Sunday morning, I was awakened by a thumping sound.  Wrapping
a robe around myself, I trudged my front door and opened it.
Kate said nothing; she just stood there.

It wasn't necessary to ask why she was there, even at such an
early hour; the large case resting at her side told all.

I exhaled in a sigh, breaking the silence, "Come on in."

"Thank you."

Observing that she was fully made up, I asked, "You got up
awfully early, didn't you?"

"I don't mind, if it's for a good reason."

"And you think this is?"  I pointed to the case.

"Yes, it is," she affirmed.

She led the way down the hallway and into my bedroom, placing
her case on my bed.  Then she began opening my chest of drawers
and placing everything that was inside onto my bed.

Perplexed, I asked, "What are you doing?"

"You won't be needing these for a few days," she said, as she
emptied the last drawer.  Then she opened the case and began
transferring items from it to the drawers.  When she was done,
she moved my things from the bed into the case.

"You wearing anything under that robe?" she asked.

I was too astonished to reply.

"Go strip and put these on," she ordered, holding out a pale
yellow nylon lingerie set, consisting of panties, brassiere, and
a half slip.

I took them, but just stood there.

"We're not going to make this work," she admonished, "unless
you become Tess, completely, from right now, to whenever this is
over."

My uncertainty must have shown on my face, even though I
couldn't find a tongue to speak with.

She stepped over to me and lightly rested her hand on my arm.

"I think that will be easier if we remove from your life, as
much as is possible, every evidence of `Ted'.  If I had a spare
bedroom, I'd even move you into it until this was over, just to
keep you away from all the reminders this house provides."

When I still didn't move, she added, "Everything will be just
fine.  Months from now, when you are enjoying the fruits of your
efforts, you'll look back on this week as a great adventure."

She gave me a nudge toward my bathroom, "Move it, girl.  You
have a busy day ahead."

When I returned, she handed me one of the pairs of bust pads
I'd accumulated.  She waited until they were properly placed,
then sighed.

"We're getting ahead of ourselves," she said.  "Back into the
bathroom."

"For what?" I asked.

"You're a modern woman, honey.  You can't go around with all
that fur on your legs."

My eyes went wide.  "I'm not shaving my legs," I announced.

"No problem," she smiled.  "I have an Epilady.  They'll stay
smooth longer that way, too.  It removes the hair at the root."

"That wasn't the sort of alternative I had in mind."

"Tess, if you want to get through this week successfully,
hairy legs aren't an option at all."

"What's wrong with opaque panty hose, like I wore Friday?"

"It's unusual for a woman to wear them.  It will call
attention to you.  You want to blend in; that means sheer hosiery
and smooth limbs."

"What will I do until it grows back?"

"You mean Ted?  Who's going to notice?  Ted wears pants!"

"This week, though," she continued, "Tess needs smooth legs.
Is she going to shave them, or Epilady them?"

When I didn't answer immediately, she added, "If you shave,
you'll probably have to do it again Wednesday.  Once with the
Epilady will get you through the whole week."

And several more, she COULD have told me.

Not knowing what I was getting into, it seemed that doing
this just once might be better than having go through it twice.
In a few minutes, I had changed my mind.

Kate warned me that it would sting a little.  It didn't - it
stung a lot!  She wouldn't let me switch to a razor without
trying something else.  She made a dash to her car, and came back
with an overnight case.  With a large cotton swab she spread a
lotion on my legs.  They felt very strange afterward.

"It is a topical lidocaine solution," she explained.

After it dried, I could hardly feel the hairs being wrenched
out.  In twenty minutes, my legs were as bare as a baby's.

Next, she retrieved the bag I'd brought back from the
cosmetics shop, and began guiding me in making up my face.

When she was satisfied with my efforts, Kate handed me a
blouse and skirt, made of a gauzelike material.

While I was putting it on, she gazed at me - as if in deep
thought.

"Let's try the sandals you wore yesterday," she suggested.

Getting them on was a little more trouble than it had been
over stockings.  The last item to go on was yesterday's wig.  It
was mine for the duration, she told me, as she touched up the
styling.  Did I assume too much, when I thought she meant the
duration of the week?

I asked if she wanted breakfast, remarking that I was
starved.  We went out to the kitchen, where I began gathering
eggs, bacon, and frozen hashed potatoes.

"Wait a minute," Kate stopped me.  "We're not going out to
dig ditches today."

I looked at her in puzzlement.

"You simply must get this fixed in your mind: you are a woman
this week.  You will see everything from a feminine viewpoint.
You will act, and react, the way a woman does."

"For starters," she explained, "that means you eat what you
need to, not what you want to - unless what you need at that
moment just happens to also be what you want."

Kate opened the refrigerator and rummaged around a few
moments, then started opening cabinets.

"Don't you have any fruit around here?"

I showed her where the cans were.

"Not as good as fresh," she noted, "but it will have to do."

The whole day went like that - a crash course in womanhood.
I'm amazed that I retained any of it, but I managed to absorb
enough - to get me started.

*--*

We arrived at the office early, among the first people in the
building.  I went directly to the dispatch desk, sat down, and
began organizing for the day ahead.

I could hear Elaine getting out of her chair.  When I looked
up toward the doorway of her office, I was rewarded with the
vision of a manager who was obviously startled.

Still, her only response was a knowing smile, then she
silently returned to her work.

Jean and Diane walked in from the parking lot together.
Judging by their expressions, the sight of my car in the parking
lot had left them totally unprepared for the shock of seeing me
there as "Tess", particularly appearing the way I did.

I was dressed collar to calf in pink, in a sweater suit which
featured a straight skirt.  White hose with pink shoes and
accessories completed the outfit.  The bright pink lipstick
provided the focal point for my face, framed by a much fuller and
fairer hairstyle than I had worn before.  Kate had arranged the
styling to clearly exposed the white triangles that dangled from
loops screwed to each earlobe.  Furthermore, for the first time,
my nails were enameled.  Actually, they were artificial nails,
the new "active" length.

Just as significant was what they couldn't see.  Kate had
spent a fair amount of money to get me matching set of lace-
trimmed lingerie in a color called "blush".  Even a plain girl,
she had explained, feels pretty when she's dressed in pretty,
feminine things from the skin out.

The air around the dispatch desk filled with compliments and
questions.  Was I really going to do this for the whole week?
Had I done all the makeup, hair style, etc., by myself?  What had
Elaine said about my appearance?

In a typical fashion, for Mondays, incoming calls for service
were queueing up, leaving me little opportunity to answer.

At the first lull in activity, Elaine came out again.

"You are working the whole week, right, Tess?" she asked.

"Uh, I guess so, ma'am," I replied.

"You GUESS?" she exclaimed.

Alarms went off it my mind.  I'd just said the WRONG thing.

"Honey, I'm counting on you.  Show the same sort of
confidence in yourself as I have in you."

My face brightened.  "Yes! Ma'am."

"What is this `ma'am' stuff, anyway?  YOU change clothes and
suddenly I'M a stranger?"

"No, ma'..." I cut myself off in mid-word, and grinned.

"Say `Elaine'," she instructed.

"Elaine," I responded.

"I knew you could," she affirmed.  "All right then, `Tess'
you are, for the rest of the week."

She held out her hand, "Welcome to the staff."

About eleven, Kate stopped by to "invite" me out to lunch.
My confidence wasn't really up to it, but Kate had made it a
condition of her assistance.

By eleven-thirty, when Diane relieved me of the telephone
headset, our twosome had grown to five.  We drove to a restaurant
that we didn't often use.  Mercifully, the time spent in the
restaurant was uneventful, except that we were joined by Cheryl,
who hobbled in on crutches.

"I shouldn't even be out of bed," she explained, "but, I
couldn't pass up this opportunity to meet my temporary
replacement.  `Tess' is it?"  She put out her hand.

I reached out to take it and nodded.

Giving me a conspiratorial wink - which confirmed that she
knew exactly what was going on - she continued, "Well, I'm
pleased to meet you.  I hear that you're doing an excellent job
with my position; I hope they'll still want me back, when I get
out of this," indicating the cast which covered her leg from knee
to toes.

"Uh, no reason for you to worry about that," I replied in the
most feminine voice I could manage.  "My position there is
strictly temporary, believe me."

"Well, as good as they say you are, I wouldn't begrudge you
your own spot there, as long as I don't lose my own."

I'm sure my makeup began to show a little extra color, as the
implications of that remark soaked in.

During this exchange, everyone had been shifting over in the
booth to make room for Cheryl.  She sat down just in time to
order and eat with the rest of the group.

I returned from lunch to find that the nameplate on the desk
had been replaced by an office standard laminate, engraved with
"Tess" and my last name.

When Diane relieved me for my mid-afternoon break, she
reminded me that tonight was her turn to provide dinner.  Then
she asked whether to expect "Tess" or "Ted".

Apparently, Kate hadn't told her that I wasn't going ANYWHERE
as Ted, this week.

Trying to sound very philosophical, I first asked what time
dinner would be ready.  She told me, and I noted that such an
early dinner wouldn't leave a lot of time for me to change.
Adding that it was too much trouble to rush home, I sighed with
resignation and told her that I might as well come over as is,
and help with the preparation.

When I returned home that evening, there was another car in
my driveway, just as I expected.  Inside, Kate was curled up in
the recliner, reading a book. Although I hadn't known exactly
what to expect, I was surprised at the extent to which  Kate had
made herself at home - robe, slippers, and all.

She lowered her book and grinned, "Hi!  Everything OK?"

Everything had been fine, although I had been feeling a
little conspiratorial, evading questions from Diane about how I'd
obtained my outfit; why I'd changed my mind, and my plans for the
next day.

She directed me to sit on the sofa opposite her, and
continued to ply me with questions about my evening since we left
work.  After about fifteen minutes, she said, "I want to show you
something."

My television is on a cart with casters, so it can be easily
placed anywhere I find convenient.

"Stay right there," she said, as she pushed it over next to
the recliner.  While it was warming up she went to a dimly lit
corner of the room and fiddled with ... oh, mercy!  A video
camcorder.

A minute later, I was watching and listening to myself
respond to her.  She pointed out both the good and the bad, with
respect to how femininely I behaved.

Then we went through the whole process again.

This time she turned down the brightness so there was only
the audio to critique.  Afterward, she reran it normally.

We repeated the process a third time.

This time she was satisfied enough to call it a night and
followed me down the hall.  When I reached my bedroom door, she
stopped me from entering.

"Not here.  The next one."

She guided me into the spare room across the hall.

It was quite a shock to enter it and find that it looked like
someone actually lived there - someone with very feminine taste.

"I've moved all your things into here for the duration," she
said.  "It should help you stay in character."

Too bewildered to speak for a moment, I just looked at her
quizzically.

"I'm staying in Ted's room," she informed me.

My eyes opened as wide as they could get.

"It will save me from chasing back and forth all week."

"This isn't that big of a city, Kate," I suggested.  "Folks
are going to gossip, when they find out."

"Gossip about what?" she answered with an amused expression.
"That two women are house-sitting for Ted, while he's away on
vacation?"

That did sound fairly logical.

She followed up, "As long as you stay in character, who's to
know otherwise?"