Paula's Place

Paula's Place

Wednesday, 17 April 2013

Fictionmania mania

I have had a lot of hits on the blog recently, and I mean a lot! two or even three times more than I would normally hope for, and it seemed to happen almost over night.   A closer check on my Blogger stats shows that most of these hits are coming from web searches for Fictionmania the transgender fiction web site.   A while back I wrote a post about my views on transgender fiction and how most of it seemed to be fantasy rather than illuminating.   That is where all these fresh searches are taking viewers, since it seems that the main Fictionmania site has disappeared.

Following that post I did have a go at starting a short story where the central character is transgendered, but without using the first person, forced femininity, bondage, sissification, or any of the other fantasy aspects of most of those stories, just showing a little of what it can be like for a cross-dresser.   I never got very far and it has sat on the back shelf of my computer for all those months.   I now feel prompted to get it out, dust it off and offer it to you for our comments and advise.   Personally I did not feel adequate to the task I had set myself, and sort of stalled when I got to the point of trying to express the internal conflicts being felt by the main protagonist.   Please let me know what you think I shall decide whether to try to carry on, or bail out accordingly.   As I was writing for a "civilian" audience please try to read from that point of view.

Philippa was going out, it seemed like a long time since she had last been out and right now she was very excited about it.   Having already spent some time shaping and painting her finger nails, she had just had a long shower and shaved so that her legs and armpits were now as smooth as her face, this gave her a great deal of pleasure, the tingle of the warm water on her smooth legs gave her a thrill of joy, and since she only shaved when going out this was a pleasure to be enjoyed, to be savoured in a leisurely fashion.   She took her time and a great deal of pleasure getting dressed, enjoying the touch of her clothes, the softness of the material against her freshly shaved skin.   Now she sat in front of her mirror applying her makeup, she wanted to look perfect, she knew that unless everything was just right she would lose confidence and not go.   Finally satisfied she put on her blouse and the final part, carefully put on and pined in place her wig, she was pleased with how it looked, not too long and just the same shade of grey as her own dramatically thinning hair, it looked good, she looked good, she felt good.

The drive to the station was uneventful, not the local station, after all she didn’t want to be recognised, but another suburban station far enough away that no one there would know her, and on a different line, so there would be no neighbours travelling on the same train.   All went well until she arrived at the station car park she had to gather her strength, tell herself it would all be OK, that no one would notice her, once she was out of the car and buying her ticket it would begin to get easier.   It was always like this when she went out, keen anticipation, the sensuous pleasure of getting dressed, followed by the nervousness of actually getting out into public view.  

Today was a first, Philippa would be travelling on public transport, this meant leaving another safety zone, up till now she had always known that her car was nearby to be used as an escape route or as a refuge.   Travelling by train meant that she had to see the day through to the end, the whole day, out in public, without refuge, without a bolt hole.   There was that familiar sense of excitement building up, along with fear in almost equal measure.   Looking round there was a man smoking a cigarette leaning against his car on the far side of the car park, no one else was around, she got out of the car glanced over saw the man watch her, she walked across the car park to the station, as she went in the man was still watching her, up to the ticket office window the cashier barely glanced up as she asked for her ticket and handed the money over.   Of course she could have used a ticket machine, but talking to someone, that human contact with a real person was all part of the experience.   Her heart beat returning to normal she made her way onto the platform to wait for the train.   This was going to be the biggest outing yet, the excitement was beginning to overwhelm the fear, soon she would start to relax and enjoy herself.

Looking around on the platform no one seemed to take any notice of the tall well dressed middle aged woman, after only a few minutes the train arrived, Philippa got on found a seat and got a book out of her hand bag.   She tried to read, but worried that she would be spotted she couldn’t stop herself from glancing up to see if anyone was looking at her.   No seemed to be taking any notice of her at all so with her confidence increasing she glanced back down at her book, and had a sudden thrill as she saw her own finger nails, carefully manicured and polished to match her lilac dress.   She couldn’t concentrate on the story, just the thought that here she was out in public, manicured, well dressed, looking forward to a day at the national gallery and a bit of window shopping, on Regents Street, and no one knowing her secret.

Arriving at Charing Cross it was just a short walk across to her destination, the National Gallery.   Not being in any hurry Philippa decided that there was time for a coffee, having bought her latte and resisted the pastries, she found an unoccupied table and sat down.   Looking around, just enjoying being out she didn’t notice the approach of the middle aged man in a grey suit.

“Excuse me, is this seat free?” he said

“Oh, yes, please feel free”

Thanking her and settling himself down, to Philippa’s surprise he carried on,

“Are you here to see anything in particular or just passing through before shopping?”

“I wanted a closer look at the Monets, last time I was here it was far too crowed to get a proper look, anyway what makes you think I don’t work here?” – what was she doing, almost flirting with a strange man, but it felt good, just to engage with someone.

“Well, you don’t look like you work around here, for one thing you’re far to well dressed, most of the girls who aren’t in uniform will just wear jeans.   I think it’s a shame I like to see a lady properly dressed, why don’t women wear dresses much these days”, Girls!

“I don’t know, I always feel a little bit special when I put on a dress, I suppose it’s the difference from the normal, making the effort” if only he knew.

“Well I think you look lovely” how could she react to that, this was the first time she had had a proper conversation with anyone other than shop assistants.

“Thank you, you’re not so shabby yourself” Where did that come from, yes she was flirting, why?

“Well I work up here, so I have to make sure I look fairly smart, sort of goes with the territory; look I have to go and talk to some students now, but I have enjoyed meeting you, will you let me buy you lunch?”

“I’m not sure,” holding up her left hand so that the wedding ring showed, “you know…”

“Just lunch, and a chat”


“Right then, I’ll meet you here about quarter past one, see you then, oh by the way I’m Michael”


“OK Philippa, I’ll see you at one fifteen then, bye” with that he stood up and left a rather stunned and confused person.   What had she done?, how had she let this happen? This was meant to just be about wearing the clothes, enjoying the feminine side of her nature, to get away from the humdrum world of being Philip.   When all was said and done though Philip loved his wife, his children, he didn’t want to do anything to hurt them that’s why he kept Philippa quite, that’s why he could not be open about his cross dressing, hid the thrill he got from going our dressed as a woman.   Philip was worried about what had been done, but Philippa was thrilled, someone had noticed her, and liked what they saw, better still they had talked and he had still liked her.

Philippa wasn’t the only one who was confused, Michael was also unsure about his lunch date.   At first he had just thought Philippa was a typical middle aged woman come into town from the suburbs for a bit of shopping, but there were one or two very interesting things about her.    He did like to see a lady properly dressed, there just wasn’t enough elegance around these days, and he was sure he had noticed the tell tale signs of suspender clips through the thin material of her dress, but there was something else.   She seemed calm on the surface and their talk about the paintings had been easy enough, but there was some unease, the way she had kept playing with her wedding ring, then when he asked her to lunch, the way she had just held it up, but still accepted the offer, Michael wasn’t sure about this woman at all, but he was interested.   Sure she was a little tall, nearly as big as he was himself, and very strong features, handsome enough but not pretty, but it was the apparently easy way they had chatted with that undercurrent of nerves, that attracted him, still there something he couldn’t quite put his finger on that said stay away.

It was quite difficult for both of them to get through the morning concentrating on the job in hand, it was probably a bit easier for Philippa, she could lose herself in the landscapes of northern France, if not quite totally in the lily ponds while Michael had to stop thinking about her and concentrate on guiding his tour on medieval art.   Some of the girls on the tour were very attractive, but today Michael barely noticed them, he was just thinking about how long to lunch, and should he even turn up?   As the morning wore on they were both getting more and more nervous, Michael becoming a little fearful, despite telling himself it was only lunch the more he thought about it the more he felt that somehow he was getting into something that was going to be very difficult, in ways he just didn’t yet understand.   On the other hand Philippa’s worries became more and more practical.   First was the fear of an early five o’clock shadow, how could she use the electric shaver she had brought with her in the ladies? The noise it made was sure to get attention, and probably not for the right reasons.   At what point should she tell Michael the truth about herself, if he hadn’t already worked it out.   If he knew she was a man then what did that make him? There were men like that she knew, she had read about them and been warned to be careful by friends.   Was that an avenue that Philippa wanted to explore? Indeed was there any avenue she wanted to explore with a man?   She told herself it was just lunch, but in her heart she knew only too well why a man asked a woman to lunch.   Maybe it was not too late she could just leave and no one would ever know.
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