abby_gay_ill

surprise! im back! i love writing too much, i can't stay away for long! hope you enjoy this short story!

I have a nasty habit of putting my foot in my mouth. Not literally, of course, I doubt that I'm flexible enough for that. But generally, I lack any kind of filter with which to prevent my initial, unwashed thoughts from escaping my lips. Which is especially harmful when those preliminary thoughts don't belong to me, but to the toxic ideal of 'masculinity' that my father, and society at large, tried to instill in me. This unfortunate habit has led me into a great many pitfalls, most of which I've been able to clamber out of through advanced apologetics. Not all of them, though. My girlfriend Leah, whom I love with all my heart, never lets me escape from my mistakes without undergoing some kind of penance. When I accidentally claimed that boys aren't allowed to cry, she made me dice an entire 2 kilogram bag of onions to atone. Unfortunately, that pales in comparison to her most recent punishment.

It was all because of stupid Ryan Gosling. I know it's unfair to lay the blame exclusively on him, but it makes me feel better to act as if I'm not responsible for my shortcomings. I love the guy, he really elevates the movies he's in with his performance. And now he's in Barbie. And I'd been following everything he'd said in press tours for the movie, and I was hyped. He really seemed like he was undergoing a transformative process to truly embody Ken, something I really admired. Knowing my love of Ryan Gosling, all Leah had to do was ask, and soon enough we'd booked tickets. If only I'd known.

Leah tore apart my wardrobe, inspecting every garment I owned, deeming them all insufficient. We have to wear pink for Barbie, she said. Don't you own anything pink, she said. And that's when I really screwed up. My next words placed a terrible burden upon my shoulders. And that brings us up to date.

---

Leah slowly crept into my view, slithering forward on the bed until she superseded my phone in the battle for attention. "C'mon baaaabe, time to get readyyyyy!" Her grin was infectious, viral even.

"The movie doesn't start for another hour!"

A pout. "Indeed. But I've run the numbers." She pushed her glasses up her nose, then added a touch of nasality to her voice. "According to my calculations, the process of getting there, acquiring snacks, and meeting plus catching up with Isabelle and her girlfriend will take approximately half an hour. That leaves us with half an hour to get you looking presentable."

"In what world does it take half an hour to get ready?" Oh dear. Another foible on my behalf. As soon as I said it, I realised in exactly whose world it takes half an hour to get ready.

"In a girl's world, ya dingus!" She pushed herself up against the bed, so she was staring down on me, brown locks tumbling onto my face, and her voice shifted, becoming huskier in a way that made my heart race. "Unless you've forgotten about our little wager?"

I squirmed, in a vain attempt to hide the redness growing on my cheeks. "You were serious about that? I thought you were just gonna make me wear a pink shirt or something!"

"Remind me, dearest, of your reply when I said we had to wear pink for Barbie?"

"I apologised for it straight away!"

"And you agreed that apology alone wasn't sufficient. Now please, repeat what you said."

"I... I said only girls wear pink." God, there it was. A piece of my father still within me. One of the stains he left on my soul. And it was so obviously untrue. It's not like wearing pink would make me a girl or anything. Huh. Imagine that. Actually, I think I read a story that went something like that-

"Correct. I'm sure I don't need to explain just how wrong that is, seeing as you've already apologised multiple times. But to make sure it gets through that thick skull of yours," She flicked my forehead lightly with her finger. "You're going to undergo some exposure therapy." As much as I wanted to, I knew it was pointless to try and argue with her. She was far more assertive than I, and if it came to a contest of wills she was bound to win. But I felt weirdly apprehensive about this whole ordeal. "Sure, I could just have you wear a pink shirt and call it a day, but you can be awfully stubborn at times." She cupped my cheek with her hand, and I felt like a mouse being toyed with by a lion. It was exhilarating. "But I want to prove to you that no perceived lapse in masculinity is gonna turn you into a woman. Even if you're dressed in the most feminine, girly outfit imaginable, that won't make you any less of a man. Now come on!"

She was reassuring me, right? Her words were definitely meant to be reassurances. So why did they only make me feel worse? She jumped up out of the bed, beckoning me to follow. She must have noticed my apprehension, because she returned, placing a hand on mine. "Hey." Her voice was gentle, fraught with worry. "If this is too much for you, you don't have to do it. I know I get a little carried away sometimes, and I just realised that like, this is probably way too much for you. There's no shame in backing out, I promise."

Oh. What a... relief, I suppose. I was so worried, so worked up about the idea of having to dress up like a girl, and now she was saying I didn't have to. But I wasn't relieved. If anything, I was crestfallen. I'd agreed to do this. I had to do this. And I didn't want to admit it, but a part of me also wanted to do it. Like, just out of curiosity. Just to see what I'd look like as a girl. Regardless, I couldn't back out now. I had to see this through.

"No. No, it's okay. It's my punishment, my stupid mouth. I need to be better, and I really think this'll help."

Leah was unconvinced. "Are you sure? It's okay if you don't want to, I promise. If you're really committed you can just wear the shirt or something, no need for make-up or skirts or anything."

Skirts? Okay, now I had to go through with it. I'd always been curious about how it felt to wear one, even though I'm not allowed, being a guy and all. I couldn't pass up this chance! "No! I agreed to do this, I have to see it through! Make me into a girl!"

She snorted. "You know that's not how it works. I'm not gonna make you a girl. Nothing can make someone into a girl. I'm just gonna make you look like one."

"O-Oh yeah, that's what I meant, sorry. Misspoke." Why did I sound disappointed?

The predatory glint returned to her eye, and she pulled me up out of the bed, towards her vanity. "In that case, let's get to work!"

As I sat down in the chair, met with three equally distasteful reflections, I heard Leah rummaging behind me. I turned to face her, only to be pelted by a series of garments in quick succession. One stuck out to me in particular. "Do I really need to wear a bra?"

She put on a deep, resonant voice, clearly imitating a character I didn't recognise. "As the one in charge of your rehabilitation, I deem it necessary."

"Dork."

She stuck her tongue out. "You know you love me. Now strip." Ah. Right, yeah, of course. Of course to change clothes I'd have to strip. It's not like she hadn't seen me naked before, but I was still reticent. I was uncomfortable with being naked at all, even alone. I disrobed as efficiently as possible, taking care not to catch my reflection as I did so. As I pulled off my underwear, Leah made a little wolf whistle. "Whoa, no need to get totally naked! It's not like you're gonna be wearing panties or anything!"

Why didn't she want me wearing panties? Would it be weird to want that? Quickly, brain, justify it! "It'd feel weird to wear a skirt with briefs on!"

"Well none of my underwear is gonna have room for your additional equipment!"

"Well, maybe I'll just follow the online tutorials I've read for tucking it away!"

"That sounds like a good solution! I feel like this conversation has gotten needlessly argumentative!"

"I agree! I love you!" I broke off our faux argument with a kiss on her cheek, and ran to her drawers to retrieve a pair of underwear. Was I... giddy? No, surely not. I was just excited to have a chance to utilise my knowledge of tucking. With a little jostling, and a second pair of panties, it was done. "Ta-da!"

For her part, Leah was impressed. "Woah, babe, that's awesome! Where'd you learn how to do that?"

"I told you, online. Now show me how to put the rest of this on! We don't want to be late!"

"Hey, that's my line!" Her voice was mock indignance, but her smile was genuine. How did I get so lucky as to end up with such a beautiful dork? Leah was like, by far and away the prettiest girl I'd ever seen, so it was more than a shock to see her go with a guy like me. Especially considering the fact that she was bisexual, that's like, twice as many potential love interests, and she picked me? Has she not seen women?

I noticed that I had gotten to work, mostly instinctively, and had gotten dressed most of the way already. Presumably Leah helped too. I made the mistake of glancing in the mirror, and saw I was wearing a baby pink skirt, a tight hot pink top, and a pink faux-leather jacket that was entirely too short in the sleeve, probably due to its owner's size being distributed in a different dimension. Unfortunately, mirrors tended to tell brutal truths without considering the observer's feelings, so I could see just how awful I looked. I guess I'd been hoping for some drastic transformation, to look like a completely different person, but that wasn't the case. I was still me, the boring, awkward, gangly guy I'd always been, just wearing ill-fitting ladies' clothes. I looked like a joke. Turns out Leah never needed a bag of onions, she could have just dressed me up as a girl.

"Okay! Still needs a little work! Take that jacket off and I'll find you a better-fitting one, and put these on!" A pair of white leggings found themselves suddenly cast over my face, and I dutifully complied with Leah's request. She returned a few seconds later with a washed-out denim jacket, one of mine, which gratefully fit. Looking back on my newly updated reflection, I was still dissatisfied, but it was certainly an improvement. Leah looked me up and down. "Very nice, cute even, but we still have to do something about this face." She leaned in close. "Is that alright?" I nodded meekly.

Leah came upon me in a whirlwind of cosmetics, foundation, mascara and eyeshadow blurring together into what could really only be described as a makeover montage. I knew better than to look in the mirror with make-up half done, at least, which made finally looking in the mirror all the more shocking. I was... a girl. Well, I looked like a girl, at least. I mean, I wasn't actually a girl, or anything, even if- Nevermind. But I looked like a girl! I stood up, and gave the mirrors a spin. Wow, the skirt spun around too! That was satisfying. I... I couldn't believe my eyes. It was truly magical.

"Damn, I did good. You look downright gorgeous! I'd date that!"

Even if it felt like she was just humouring me, it was nice. "You are dating that! It's still me!"

"Huh. Honestly, it's hard to even recognise you like this. It'd feel weird calling you-"

"Yeah! It would feel weird to still go by my real name, like, while I'm dressed like this. We should probably come up with a girl name to use in the mean-time. Just while I'm dressed like a girl, right?"

Leah was stunned by my sudden assertion, but managed to reply. "Yeah, I guess so. Hmmm, maybe we could go with-"

"Penny!" That was entirely too fast! And now she's gonna get curious as to why you had that name already prepared, and you're gonna have to tell her you came up with it as a kid just in case a wizard turned you into a girl so you would have a girl name ready just in case. "J- Uh- Just like, as a random name that popped into my head. Just then. I didn't already have that name in mind."

"Heh, okay, Penny. In that case, are you ready to leave?" I felt embers in my heart stir at the use of that name, as if it were an invocation.

"Y- Uh- Yuh-huh!"

"Alright then, my lovely girlfriend Penny," She proffered her arm to me, and I felt my brain go numb. "Shall we?"