Tuesday, October 28, 2014

Fiction: Halloween Spirit

I don't remember if I ever posted this story here.  I posted it on Fictionmania to mixed reviews.  it definitely isn't my best piece but I like it, and it's about Halloween.

Here it is!

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“Oh God I really have to piss!” Shawn Vyce thought as he semi-jogged along the sidewalk.  All the bars were closing and he thought he could make it home, but…
            “Gotta find a place… gotta find a place…”
            Shawn loped along in his rabbit costume feeling stupid, and hoping he wouldn’t have an accident.  This wasn’t the way he wanted to end Halloween night. He would’ve much rather spent the remainder back at Liz’s place, but she had other ideas. 
           
A month ago, Shawn’s friend Hank suggested that a bunch of their friends go out as a costumed group for Halloween, to try to win the top prize at the Spirit Bar’s annual contest.  The $1000 prize would divide nicely between the five of them.  After some phone calls and texting, they had their plan.
            Hank dressed as a magician with a top hat, suit and wand.  Shawn rented a white rabbit costume which was thick, sweaty, and looked a lot like Ralphie’s pj’s from “A Christmas Story.”  It was kind of hard to find one in his size- Shawn was six four, and out of shape with a big beer gut.  George dressed as a playing card, using 2 pieces of particle board strapped over his shoulders- the Ace of Spades.  Kind of appropriate as he looked a little bit like Lemmy from Motorhead, which he played up by wearing a leather biker look under the card pieces.  George’s wife, Jill, also dressed as a playing card- the Ace of Hearts.          
Halloween night started well enough.  They all gathered at George and Jill’s place to get into costume and have a few drinks to “warm up.” It was, after all, a chilly night!  The wind was cold and the sliver moon ducked in and out behind fast moving high, black clouds. 
“Perfect haunting weather!” Liz said.
“Perfect night for magic!” Hank said, waving his wand then finishing his beer.

“Oh God I can’t hold it much longer! Shit!  Wait! Evergreen Cemetery is just ahead! I can go behind a tree there or something!”

So they had drinks at George and Jill’s.  Liz showed up last.  She dressed as the sexy assistant: fishnets, heels and a satin bodice.  And was she ever sexy!  She wanted Jill to help with her hair, since Jill is a hairdresser.
            Shawn liked Liz.  He hadn’t had a girlfriend, hell even a successful date in two years.  Not since his last girlfriend found out he cheated on her with a stripper.  But that was two years, a whole state, and another job ago.  He picked up and moved east and started anew here.  And Liz seemed so nice and so hot and… she didn’t feel the same way about him.  But maybe tonight, he could change her mind!

            Shawn arrived at the cemetery.  It had a low wrought iron fence, maybe waist high.  It was old, rusty in places.  Fortunately for him, part of it was flattened by a car a week before so he didn’t have to jump it.  Tree… There’s a tree!  Shawn ran behind it, unzipped his costume and…
            Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

            The bar was crowded, but they managed to find a place near the beer taps and get lots of drinks.  They were regulars at the bar, and good tippers, so that helped. 
            The bar scene was a blur.  The costumes, the people, and the free gropes Shawn got from women trying to get by him in the crowd…he loved it.  At midnight, the judges ruled on the best costumes. 
            And the best group was…
            Star Wars Zombies!
            Applause!  Toasts!  Chugging! 
Shawn’s group applauded politely.  Liz was a lot more enthusiastic than the others as Zombie Han was hitting on her all night. 
They announced second prize in the group category (gift certificates) and the Magician Act won that.  They hugged and cheered and Shawn pinched Liz’s butt.  She glared at him and quietly but firmly said “No!”
Drink drink drink.  Last call!  Look how long the lines are for the bathrooms!  Shawn got into line for the men’s room when the guy in front of him (not dressed in a costume) turns and says “Nice fuckin’ bunny suit dude!”
Shawn was humiliated, and didn’t want to start anything with this guy, who was much bigger than him.  He sighed, smiled, and said “Yeah, thanks.”
And got out of line.  He could probably make it home…

Shawn realized he wasn’t peeing on a tree.  He was peeing on the tombstone next to it.  The stone was really old and worn.  Shawn couldn’t read it.
“Oh well,” Shawn said.  “Have a drink on me, whoever you were.”
Elisabeth Mather (1756-1784) had enough.  She had enough of people desecrating her stone- of the humiliation of having her husband’s mistress buried next to him while she was buried away in a corner.  She had enough of humiliation in general, especially at the hands or genitals of men.  From beyond she cried out- and something heard her.  A Spirit powerful and old- older even than the land in which Elisabeth’s bones and dust rested.  The Spirit heard.
            Shawn shook himself, zipped his jeans up, then the costume as well. 
            The clouds covered the sliver of room in the sky as the wind picked up, sending leaves scattering.  A chill ran up Shawn’s spine.
            Then something grabbed Shawn’s ankles!  He tried to run but the more he struggled, the stronger the grip became.  He lost his balance and fell across the wet ancient tombstone.  He looked back at his feet.
            Two hands made of bits of bone and adipocere held together by a strange mist thrust out from the cold earth and had a tight grip on his ankles.  Shawn tried to scream, but couldn’t.  He clawed and tried to climb over the stone, but the hands held tight.  In fact, he seemed to be pulling the arms out of the ground as he now could see forearms and elbows protruding from the dirt.
            Shawn felt tired and weak, and the stone he gripped seemed to be… growing?  In fact, the rabbit suit was looser than before as well.  What was going on? 
            This had to be a dream!
            The weaker he felt; the hands and arms holding him coalesced.  More bones appeared, muscle, tendons…all surrounded by the mist holding it like skin.
            Suddenly he felt intense pain in his hips and groin, like someone kicked him there so hard that the bone broke.  He even heard a slight crack!  The pain was so intense that he lost his grip on the urine slicked stone and fell into an almost fetal position.  He folded his arms around himself trying to endure the pain.  Nothing existed for him but pain. 
            He felt something strange on his bare arms.  Bare?  His nails were digging in where he gripped himself.  He had long nails- as long as a girl’s!  That can’t be!
            The pain in his hips suddenly stopped but his ankles burned where the hands had gripped them.  He looked down.  The hands had released him, but he was now lying partially in a large hole.  The bunny suit looked smaller and now tighter.  The arms were missing.  His hips felt so… different.
            Suddenly a mist surrounded him and he felt himself lifted by the shoulders and pinned to the tree.
            He looked down into the face of the thing holding him there.  His eyes grew wide with horror.  The dirt caked skull was surrounded by mist which slowly seemed to be rebuilding the face!  As the face rebuilt, Shawn felt his own face and neck tingle and burn.  Eyes suddenly appeared in the skull’s empty sockets, and Shawn’s eyes stung.  He felt his body slowly sliding down the tree until he was looking this…this… thing in the face.  Was he shrinking?  Wait- the mist made the thing’s face look almost handsome, with a stout neck and hardening features.  “He” gripped Shawn’s shoulders tightly, and he could feel them burning. 
            Suddenly, the misty head sprouted hair: black, thick hair that quickly grew.  Shawn felt something tickling his shoulders.  His now bare shoulders?
            He looked down and saw his thick rabbit suit was gone, replaced by what looked like a woman’s swimsuit.  No- not a swimsuit: a one piece thing like from the old Playboy clubs.
            How?
            His stomach was still a little chubby, but he could see his hips flaring out and his bare, beautiful legs.  He could see his stomach still perceptibly shrinking, and…
            And…
            Oh my God no!
            He saw that the mist was filling out the thing’s chest, and his own chest was beginning to bulge and bud.  He was growing breasts!
            Shawn grabbed the misty corpse and tried to pull “his” fingers from his shoulders, but “he” held them tight.  Rather than weakening “his” grip, Shawn felt his arms burn and become thinner- his hands much more feminine. 
            Horrified, Shawn looked down and saw devastating cleavage.  His breasts had to be a D cup at least!  “But I’m a guy!  Guys don’t have tits!” he thought.
            The mist creature seemed to close “his” eyes and Shawn shrank even more. He pushed Shawn away and onto the ground.  The mist around “him” solidified then disappeared, becoming skin.  Standing above him was a man in his late twenties, with black hair and average looks.  He was dressed in a pants and simple shirt.  He seemed to be looking himself over, surprised.
            Shawn sat sprawled on the ground where the guy had pushed him and looked at himself.  He looked down over his breasts to see that his hips had indeed flared out from a tiny waist, covered in a shiny powder blue outfit.  And..and..Oh No!  His penis was gone!  That’s what felt so strange!  The bottom of his outfit was high cut around his now fishnet stocking covered legs, and he saw no bulge to indicate manhood!  In fact, with those hips and breasts, he looked like a beautiful woman in a bunny costume!  He now WAS a woman!  She looked at her thin arms and hands with their long red painted nails, and looked up at the man standing over her. 
            The man standing above her smiled.  Shawn felt the tears rolling down her cheeks and tried to speak but could only cry.  The man reached down to help her up.  Shawn was scared, but allowed him to help, especially since he had never stood in the four inch heels she now wore. 
            She stood and looked at herself.  She turned and looked at her feminine butt (with a dirty bunny tail.)  She pulled at her long brunette hair which, even as curly as it was, reached down to the small of her back.  She had lost at least a foot in height.
            The man spoke to her quietly. “My name is now John.  I don’t know what powers brought me back, or made me a man, but they used you to open that door, and to exact a lesson upon you.  You, who treated women as playthings, are now one yourself.  In fact, you are now my wife, Elisabeth.  I will teach you to be a proper woman, and you will teach me of these strange times and more of this strange language that I speak even now.  And I will no longer be treated poorly by men.”
            “Wife? But I’m a man!” Elisabeth said, finding her voice.  It was soft and feminine.
            “Do you look like a man?  You are dressed like a whore, and are most definitely a woman.  You will remain one the rest of your days.”  With that, John walked away, leaving Elisabeth alone in the cemetery.  She slowly followed, falling twice, but lost him in the dark streets now beginning to empty of the late night bar crowd.  She shivered in the cold night, then stopped at a passing storefront to look at her reflection.
            She was an average looking woman, maybe in her late twenties with long curly hair.  Her breasts were easily her best feature and her hips were a bit too wide, she thought.  She traced her figure with her hands as she gazed in the window, then cried some more.
Slowly, she walked back to her apartment in those heels, finding that she had no keys.  No wallet or ID either.  They must be back at the cemetery, she thought, and walked through the cold night back there. Halfway back, she removed the heels as her feet ached.  She searched around the tree and the ancient grave.  Where was that hole that was there?  It was gone, and the ground was firm and overgrown like it had never been disturbed.       
Elisabeth didn’t read the mossy, worn stone.  If she had, she would see, faintly, the name of Shawn Vyce.
            She searched a while and but never found the keys or her ID. 
            The next morning, John found Elisabeth asleep in the cemetery, and took her back to an apartment that Elisabeth just “knew” was hers.  There, she found an ID and keys to her car and this apartment.  “Elisabeth Mather” it said, and new memories flooded into her head, not replacing but in addition to those of being Shawn.

            Shawn Vyce was declared missing a couple days later.  Despite a thorough search, he was never found, and eventually declared dead.
           
            With Elisabeth’s help, John Mather learned the ways of his new time quickly.  He became a leading advocate for women’s rights, and treated Elisabeth well- much better than John had ever been treated as a woman.  He studied hard and after many years became a lawyer- which would’ve been impossible in his first life.  He could never understand how or why he had this second chance, but was determined to make the best of it.
            The Spirit moved on, satisfied.

            Elisabeth Mather found work as a secretary in a trucking firm.  The male side of her brain hated the dress code, which required skirts and suits, but she managed.  She never trusted John, but eventually learned to get along with him.  Eventually, Elisabeth made peace with her womanhood, never knowing what made her change.  In time, she bore John two daughters. 
           
            Elisabeth never set foot outdoors on Halloween again.

            

Sunday, October 26, 2014

Halloween Fail

Last night I attended a Halloween party thrown by friend Randi.  She and her husband have thrown this party many years in a row.  For the past five years, I've attended the party and each time I was dressed like a woman... except last year when I had to work.

In fact a couple years ago I dressed as a Vampiress and a couple of the women in attendance asked me if I was transitioning as the breast prosthetic looked THAT good!  (Thanks Proactive Prosthetics!)

Vamping

So this year the party was on the 25th, which was Wife's birthday.  I came home from work, changed into boy clothes and washed off my makeup, waiting for Wife to call.  Maybe she'd want to go to dinner for her birthday, either with or without daughter.

That call would never come.

So I decided to go to the party.  And I decided that I'd go crossdressed... as a guy.  This group of people are very intelligent as a rule- mostly chemists and engineers, so I figured they'd get the "Oh look she's crossdressed again" thing I was attempting.

Nope, I had to explain it.  And if you have to explain it, the joke (or the costume) failed.

So I hung out for a while.  I drank homemade punch and spiced homemade mead.  I had a pulled pork sandwich.  We played Cards Against Humanity.  I had a good time.  The place was extremely well decorated and there were some wonderful costumes!  The company couldn't have been better!

I have another party on Saturday.  I had thought of going to THAT party as Lance, but in light of the costume fail at this party, I'll probably go with a different look.

Maybe this?

Today was Daughter's birthday.  I didn't see her.  She and Wife never got away from MIL or the very conservative brother in law, who visited with his five children.  Then they all went to a party at Build-A-Bear.  Daughter enjoyed herself I'm told, and that's really important.

Still, I would've liked to have hugged my daughter on her birthday.

There's a lot more to this topic, but it goes into the "private family matters" category.  So that's all I'll say about it.

So now what?  So far, this Halloween hasn't exactly been the best.  I had a good time at the party in a bad costume (did I mention how uncomfortable I felt being a guy?  And how squished my breasts felt?)

So, there's a trip to Baltimore this Friday for Halloween, then another party.  Then Halloween 2014 is history.

I hope to see my Daughter this week.  I could really use a hug from her.





Wednesday, October 22, 2014

On This Harvest Moon: Six Years

Halloween approaches!  And I finally have some time to type some thoughts.  I've been rather busy,

Halloween, as I've often said, is my favorite holiday.  It's also my "birthday"- the anniversary of the night I dressed as a woman for the first time in decades.

Halloween 2008.  My Wife saw me that night: she was Clark Kent to my Lois Lane.  My friend Dawn did my makeup.  I didn't know that this innocent costume would break open a long scabbed over wound.  I sort of wondered if it would though.  I wondered if I had the strength to keep it down.  I figured I did- after all, I'd kept it down and deeply buried for over twenty years at that point.  My coworkers saw me that night.  My costume was a hit.

Halloween 2008, a previously "unpublished" photo


My Breasts for Halloween 08 were birdseed in pantyhose


We all know what happened.  I didn't have the strength to stop my feminine side again.  And a little more than a month later, I was Sophie.

The following Halloween (2009) was a party co-hosted by myself and my friend M.  That year, I had purchased breast forms, hip pads, a custom corset, and breasts from Proactive Prosthetics arrived.  I had my ears pierced.  I had my eyebrows waxed.  I also learned about the genius of Amanda Richards.  So for the Halloween party, I again went as a woman, but this time with a little more polish.  For the party, I called myself Monique.

Monique

And I also attended the Henri David Ball in a costume made for me by Lorraine Anderson of Occasional Woman.  

Mary Marvel


Another year passed.  I gained experience doing my own makeup and with wardrobe choices.  For the "work" Halloween Party 2010, I went as God's gift to women- I wrapped myself in wrapping paper.  I was hoping to throw off suspicions that I was a crossdresser.  It seemed to work.  However, for the Laptop Lounge Halloween Party (and for a friend's Halloween party) I again went with Mary Marvel.  This time I visited a bar alone, and also visited a comic shop before going to the party.


"God's Gift to Women"

At the Comic book store.  They recognized me immediately.

But for Henri David the following night, I wore another Lorraine Anderson creation: a St. Pauli Girl.  That night was ruined by someone who did her best to get me angry.  

Want a Beer?

Halloween 2011 was an odd one.  Again, I co-hosted the Halloween Party.  But this time, it snowed heavily the night of the party, so few showed up.  I wore Mary Marvel that night (and for the subsequent "make up" party the following February.  It was my co-workers first time seeing that costume.  

At the "work" party


For Laptop Lounge and the soon to follow Beauty and the Beach costume contest, I wore another Lorraine Anderson costume.  I was supposed to be an Evil Queen, but I had gained so much weight I thought I looked like a diva opera singer.  The costume was beautiful though.  I didn't attend Henri David Ball that year, as I still had a bad taste in my mouth from the year before.

Want an apple, Snow White?

 Halloween 2012 I wore the same outfit to the work party as to the Henri David ball.  I bought the outfit from the Pyramid Collection catalog, but Lorraine Anderson did many modifications to it, as it didn't quite fit.  I love this costume.  As can be imagined, tongues were beginning to wag about my going as a woman yet again.  Two months after this, I was on hormones.

Vampiress

Halloween 2013 was rather somber.  In the two months prior to this, I'd been thrown out of my MIL's house, was living with a friend, and had lost one of my best friends to suicide.  Yet I cohosted a sparsely attended party anyway.  I wore Mary Marvel again.  I got very drunk very quickly.  However, I wore a new costume to Henri David ball.  This was another Lorraine Anderson creation: a Flameco Dancer.  And for the first time on Halloween, I did my own makeup.  By that time, I'd stopped wearing forms and was sporting my own breasts. 

Flamenco!

Now it's Halloween 2014.  It will be six years since my re-awakening.  My life is completely different than the one I had on Halloween 2008.  What am I wearing for Halloween?  Well, for the Laptop Pre-Halloween party, I revisited the St. Pauli Girl- this time without the prosthetic.  On Halloween night, I plan to be in Baltimore dressed as Mary Marvel (after which I'll probably retire that costume.)  But for the two parties on Saturday Nov 1?   

Can I get you anything?

That would be telling.

On this Harvest Moon, I reflect upon my life as is was and as it is.  And I wonder where the road will take me in this next year.  I now have 111 followers, and I hope that whatever happens will be compelling enough to keep you reading.  As I really do appreciate you all.

I wish you all the best Saim Hann (if that's your way) and the happiest of Halloweens!





Monday, October 13, 2014

Blogging Advice

My dear friend Mary Almy is starting her own blog.  She sent me a facialbook message asking for advice.  So I thought about it.  And I thought some more.  And all that thinking tired me out, so I took a nap.

I decided that I'd write my thoughts here.  Mary said she was ok with that.

I've been doing this blog (counting the Myspace days) since December 2008.  I started it right after my first night out as Sophie (not counting Halloween, when I was Lois Lane.)  So that's *counts on fingers* six years.  I've built up a modest following, including 109 Amazing masochists who subscribe (and I thank you all!)

Where did I learn to blog?  Well, I didn't.  I've been winging it for six years.  Seriously.  So how do I approach writing this blog?  Do I follow any rules?  Who put the bomp in the bomp-sh-bomp-sh-bomp?
Rules?  What rules?

There are many books out there on Blogging.  Maybe someday I should read one.  But I took my inspiration from two bloggers:  Donna Rose and Kimberly Huddle.  From them I learned that blog entries tend to focus on a given topic, so that's what I try to do as well- one topic per entry.

I also have a few rules I follow, most of which came from my writing mentor back in my Penn State days: the late Professor Phillip Klass (aka William Tenn.)

1)  "Write with Fire; edit with Ice."  Write with passion and without caring about things like grammar on the first draft.  That's what subsequent drafts are about- edit mercilessly, and Never Settle.  I usually break this rule with my blog, as I rarely go back to edit it- preferring the Fire for this format.  My TG Forum column is edited with ice, then checked again by the editor, Angela Gardner.

2) "If possible, write your first draft Longhand, then type it for your second draft, editing and expanding as you go."  Professor Klass insisted upon this.  I still think my writing is better that way.  I wrote my entire book (you know the unpublished one?) longhand, then typed it.  It was a lot of work but I feel it was worth the effort.  I write out many of my blog entries long hand, and I think it's easy to see the difference between those and the ones that I type in "cold."

3) "Develop a style."  This took me a long time, but I think I'm sort of there.  I use odd capitalization to emphasize Important Words, a technique I stole shamelessly from the late Dr. Hunter S. Thompson.  I also use frequent fragments, which would drive an English teacher crazy.  I do it to emphasize rhythm and pacing, and because I tend to write as I speak.

Last but not least:

4)  "Sophie's Law: Be completely honest with yourself and especially with your readers."  This one is my guiding light.  I don't write much fiction because of this, but the fiction I write, I try to be as honest as I can.  I write this blog for many reasons, but one of them is to explore what's inside the tangled mess in my head.  I can't do that if I'm not honest with myself.  Also I truly believe that a reader can tell when a writer is full of sh*t.  I think my best stuff comes when I dig out something I didn't expect, or when I'm writing full of raw emotion.  My "most read entries" seem to bear this out. Occasionally while I'm writing, I begin to cry, especially if I'm typing about certain topics.  But I keep typing.  It helps me through the pain.  And with GID and transition, there is a LOT of Pain.  And Darkness.

So, Mary, there's some of the basics.  I'll leave you with the most important thing Prof. Klass ever taught me:  WRITE.  Write every day.  A lot of it will suck, but that's ok, as no one needs to see it.  I have notebooks full of longhand crap that won't see the light of day.  But the Writing muscle MUST be exercised like any other muscle.  You can't improve if you don't write and practice.  The corollary to this rule is to READ.  Read what others have written.  Enjoy it.  Learn from it.  What worked and what didn't?  How would YOU have done it? I try to read every day as well.  But writing?  I don't feel complete if I haven't written at least a page longhand each day.

If you wish to see how my own style has developed over time, you need only examine my Myspace blogs, or my work on Fictionmania, or, as mentioned earlier, my TG Forum column.  I just re-read my Myspace stuff because I think it's fascinating to see my journey from the beginning.

In fact, that may even be my next book...


Friday, October 10, 2014

Early October; Kim and Zoey

October is here!  Yay?  Well, this month has my favorite holiday as well as the birthdays of Wife and Daughter.  It also has pumpkin pie and Penn State football.  (PSU is 4-1 if anyone cares.)



Two major events happened this week.  Yes, already.

The first was that Linda Lewis and I now have a room mate.  Yes there are now three of us in this apartment.  The new roomie is named Zoey, and she came here from Iowa.  She is an actress by trade and also a freelance writer.  I've only ever read one thing she's written but I liked it.  More on her in later entries.  In any case, it's nice not having to pay all that extra rent.

I also had dinner with Kimberly Huddle last Saturday.  For those who don't know, Kimberly has her own blog in which she writes brilliantly about travelling the country cross-dressed.  She was making a rare trip to Philadelphia, and invited Linda, Zoey and I to dinner (though Zoey couldn't make it.  My fault there.)

We met at one of my usual haunts: Rock Bottom at the King of Prussia Mall.  I had to work, so I was the last to arrive.  Linda and Kim were seated near the back.  I saw Linda first as I approached the table, then I saw Kim, smiling brighter than the sun.  She was wearing a red orange top, slacks (!), and her trademark flip hairstyle.  Two amazing women at the same table.  I felt very privileged to be joining them.

We sat and talked for a while about travelling, about Linda and I's current living situation and about our mutual jobs.  Kim spoke about her trip out here and we talked a little about our blogs.  It was loud in there, but not so loud that we couldn't hear each other talk.  Close, but not quite.  As always, Kim had Linda and I laughing so hard with her understated "down home" sense of humor and the absurd.

They ate Mac and Cheese dishes.  I had German sausages.  And beer.  Why not?  It was good, but I didn't like the boiled red cabbage.

After dinner we all had a glass of wine.  We asked the waiter to take some pictures, which he did, starting with a selfie (see Kim's blog for that pic.)  He took several pictures with my camera and hers. I think the pic from her camera is the best, and she posted it on her blog.  Of the ones on my camera, the best one is below, after a little cropping by Linda.


Kim had an early morning the next day, so the night ended far too soon.  As I was exhausted (and broke) I headed back to the apartment.

It's always wonderful to see Kim.  It's such a rarity, and always a treat.  If you haven't read her blog, you're missing out.  This chick is the definition of Guts.  She does what so many of us wish we could do (at least I did before I went FT) and in doing so she is an inspiration to so many people.  Her bravery, beauty and poise continues to inspire me.

So I had dinner with two of my inspirations.  Yes, I know how lucky I am.  And when I'm feeling down, I remember times like this, and it helps me remember how fortunate I really am.  I'm living the dream- I'm full time.  I'm paying the price, but still...

Thanks to Kim and Linda for a wonderful night.

And welcome to Zoey!  It's going to be a wild ride!