The Race

By: Bea

It's not MY fault. I wanted to marry Cynthia. Said so MANY times. She finally
gave in and we got married. I try not to complain too much, but nether she,
Amanda, Betty, Caroline – nor her mother - seem to care about my concerns. Just
look at me and shrug their shoulders as if I should have been more careful. But
how was I supposed to know, huh? I thought everything was supposed to be agreed
before the ceremony. Okay, some words were missing or not said. But what are
we – a bunch of lawyers?

You be the judge.

I fell madly in love with Cynthia the moment I saw her. As usual, I met her
originally with her three companions who rarely, if ever, left her side. All
three were beautiful : Amanda, the cool ice type blonde. Betty the warm and
seductive red head. Caroline, the warm brunette. None of them seemed to like me
very much. To be honest? 'Like' is wrong to describe their feelings for me – an
amused contempt was closer to the truth. But I put up with them because it was
the only way I could stay close to her.

Cynthia is the epitome of female beauty. Ash blonde and tiny. I've been
accused of favoring her because she was small and – should I admit this? –
dainty, like myself. There maybe is something in this, but her three girl
friends idolized her as well – and they were bigger than her. As a matter of
fact, I don't suppose they were large by any manner of means but in their heels
they seemed to tower over both of us – something I should have been used to as
commonplace up until then – but never really accepted.

Almost immediately, I made my desires known to Cynthia about wanting to get
married. "Dear boy," she said sweetly. "You would be a most desirable
companion, but for one thing my friends don't care for men too much. For a
second? I make no bones about it. I want a large, magnificent wedding and all
the trimmings. I even have a resplendent dress picked out already. A friend of
mine worked as a model in an exclusive bridal shop. When she saw it for sale,
she knew it was my size and got it for me. I still have it for my big day – so
at least you know that I intend to use it!" She sighed. "I'm well aware that
some people look askance on my friendship with the three girls – accuse us of
being lesbians, but they just don't know us!"

I pressed the matter and she explained further. "Dear Albert? You are cute. No
denying it – and I didn't want to admit this but my father being dead? My
dearest mother cannot afford the kind of big wedding that I want. I'm afraid
that you'll just have to wait until we win the lottery or something."
"But I could pay for a large part of a glorious wedding," I tried.

She patted my arm. "No darling Albert. I realize what a compliment you're
paying me – but what would be my sense in bankrupting you? As you know, I
delight in feminine things and would not be happy if you had no money after our
wedding. So why can't we just be friends?"

Her refusal didn't kill my ardor for a moment. I even approached her mother –
Donna – and she regarded me balefully once I'd spoken my piece. "It is nice of
you to offer to help me with a wedding – but I consider your offer as an insult.
If Cynthia didn't like you, I'd expect you to go away – and stay away –
permanently. But I suppose she has a mind of her own so, for her sake, I'll put
up with you."
I swallowed. It was bad enough not having her friends like me – but now her
mother as well?

I felt she was unkind, but it was nothing to the jibes and remarks I'd have to
put up with from the three girls. Nothing stopped them. Not even Cynthia's
presence. They joked about my masculinity – or lack of it. Commented how I
must enjoy being a part of a coterie of girls who surrounded Cynthia. I'd get
upset, but she'd laugh and tell me not to be so hot headed. "I'm SURE that
you're a boy!" She'd say. "Just ignore them!" Then she'd smile at her friends.
"How can you be so cruel?" Of course, they'd all just laugh and one of the
three - usually Betty or Caroline would pinch me.

But Cynthia finally was determined that the girls would like me if only we were
together more. I can't say that I liked her solution – as she figured out that
if I sat with them, familiarity would lead to a friendlier relationship. The
girls didn't like this at first either. It often meant that one of them would be
singled out to sit apart, while I would take my place in the middle of the other
two.

But through time, they discovered that one of the three could get more attention
from Cynthia, while with their larger size and the usual dresses that they wore,
could simply overwhelm me and I'd discover myself almost hidden completely
between two females. To their enjoyment, they found that Cynthia thought her
idea working when either one or both would put a (pretended) affectionate arm
around my neck to further submerge me in amongst them. Naturally, I couldn’t
complain as Cynthia would have been bound to take it badly. So it became
commonplace for me to sit almost completely enveloped in the fabrics and smells
of effeminacy. Naturally quiet by nature, I felt myself increasingly a part of
the girls. Cynthia even forgot a few times and addressed us collectively as
"her girls".

But then she noticed this and apologetically brought it up in front of us all.
"I think you girls are being mean!" she said. "Albert is a young man and yet you
keep making inferences about his gender as if he's some sort of homosexual. He
is a man – and I think that you three should treat him as such!"
"I don't know what you mean?" Amanda laughed, putting an arm around my neck and
pulling me in.
"Me neither!" Caroline laughed, putting her arm around my neck and now almost
completely hiding me from view now. "He's SO sweet! I don't see how you could
think of such a thing!"

"I don't mean to be critical," Betty asked. "But Cynthia. How do YOU know he's
heterosexual? Have you ever kissed him? Felt him up? See if his penis works?"

Cynthia laughed. "That's terrible Betty. I just know he's manly! The fact that
I'm keeping myself pure for marriage and won't let him kiss or touch me?
Perfectly natural that he should obey my wishes! It's a manly thing to do!"

What she said was a sore point with me for in all the time we'd known each
other, we'd never kissed or made any other contact other than accidental. She
had explained this by saying she wanted to keep herself pure for marriage. Yes,
I was confused by some of the amorous kisses and hugs that passed between her
and the three friends – but she explained this with a light laugh. "Yes dear.
Of course it is sexual. Want me to pretend otherwise? But we're all girls, my
friends and I, that do that – so I can go to my wedding bed saying that I've
never known even a man's kiss. Pure! Do you have a problem with that?"

And now I sat there, practically a prisoner. Almost helpless in two women's
arms. "Here!" Cynthia said to Betty. "Do something for me!"

And she walked to Betty – and proceeded to give her the most salacious kiss that
I ever saw! "Now Betty?" she said when they had finished. "I just kissed you.
I want you to pass that kiss on to Albert – just the way I gave it to you.
Okay?"
"Like I'm the middle man?" Betty laughed – still panting from the effects of the
kiss.
"Exactly!" Cynthia laughed. "I'm sure you can tell me if Albert is gay!"

Goggle eyed, I watched Betty smooth out her dress and approach the three of us,
grinning so that Cynthia couldn't see her. I still couldn't move, even when
Amanda and Caroline loosened their hold, and I felt, rather than saw. Betty
straddle me on the couch. Then her lips were on me – and her tongue had
literally forced its way into my mouth. To make matters worse, her hand easily
found my groin and she massaged my erection. I was wet in seconds, pumping my
semen into my pants.

"My my!" Betty tutted. "He seemed to like me as a woman – but he came into his
pants awfully quickly . ."
"I've heard that's a sign of latent homosexuality?" Caroline asked.
"Oh Albert! How could you?" Cynthia asked sorrowfully.
"Cynthia? Now it’s you that's not being fair!" Amanda said. "I think we should
give Albert a second chance!"
"I agree! Maybe even a NUMBER of chances!" Caroline piped up. "After all –
that was just a sign of gayness. Maybe he was taken by surprise? Is that right
Albert?"
I looked up, dazed. "I think so. Honest. I'm not gay!"
"See, you other girls?" Cynthia crowed. "Though Albert? I'd suggest that you
go home and change."

I hadn't thought of Amanda's comment that I be given a second chance, but now it
seemed to be a chance for all of the girls who wanted to prove that I wasn't as
gay as they'd previously thought. It actually became quite commonplace for
Cynthia to have one of the girls in an embrace – and have another take me into
her arms for another 'trial'. The thing that nobody seemed to pay much
attention to was the fact that these women were all bigger and stronger than me.
To put it as kindly as possible, they would treat me as if it were I who was the
girl – even though Cynthia always seemed to be the strong one in her kissing
relationships. It struck me more than once that she's be kissing one of the
girls – nicely of course – while I was being kissed by another. But I guess I
couldn't complain. It just seemed that even though I was being treated like a
girl, all the girls would exclaim how "manly" I was, as they held me prisoner in
their arms, burying me in the soft fabrics of their clothes.

This went on for a while and though I felt out of sorts by how I was treated, I
seemed to be better accepted by the girls and Cynthia's mother. I couldn't
agree with what was happening, but Cynthia seemed happy enough, so that kept me
quiet.

Then Betty brought up the point one day as we sat around in Cynthia's house,
while the rain thundered down outside.
"I noticed that they're having the Bridal race in about two months Cynthia."
She laughed. "You've got the dress. Thinking of joining in?"
"No way!" Cynthia retorted sharply. "That's SO demeaning! I don't know how
girls can sink that low!"
"Bridal race?" I piped up. "What are you talking about Betty?"

"That's right. You're practically a newcomer." Amanda piped up from a magazine
she was reading. "About every two years or thereabouts, the next town has this
race between girls in their bridal gowns. The winners get this super-duper
wedding put on for them, free of charge.."
"All and I mean ALL – the trimmings!" Caroline laughed. "I saw the last winner
get married – what a fairy tale wedding that was!"

My interest had been turned on. "Couldn't you think about it Cynthia?" I asked
meekly. "If you won, we could have the fancy wedding you've always wanted – and
I'd still have my money?"
"You're being nonsensical!" she told me sharply. "No way!"
"If you really wanted to marry her THAT much?" Betty piped up. "You could
borrow her dress and compete yourself! All you'd have to do is win – and all
your troubles with Cynthia would be solved!"
"Not in MY dress, he wouldn't!" Cynthia said, half laughing at the idea.
"Anyway? He isn’t a girl – and they'd probably find out and disqualify him."

"What's all this?" Donna asked as she came in to see if anyone wanted coffee or
a soft drink. With a lot of giggling and joking, what we'd been discussing was
explained to her.
She shrugged. "What's so funny? I'd guess that Albert would fit into Cynthia's
dress just fine. And Cynthia? I'd bet that if he spoiled your dress in any
way, he'd be glad to replace it with a new one. Would be a LOT cheaper than
paying for a complete wedding. You wouldn't mind, would you Albert?"

"Well?" I tried to backtrack. "It seemed to have certain advantages but . . "
"You talking your way out of your offer?" Donna asked me indignantly. "You've
been going on and on about how you'd do anything to marry Cynthia. Now you have
the chance, all I hear is you trying to weasel out!"
"It's not that Ma'am," I said weakly. "But I'm not a girl. Don't think I could
pass and . ."
"That's the silliest thing I ever heard!" she snapped. "It's about two months
away. Your hair is nice and long and you have a dainty figure that a little
padding would help if you wore a dress. You come and stay with me for the next
two months and I'll see how serious you are about marrying my daughter. "She
leered at me. "And I guarantee that you'll make a nice looking bride. Guarantee
it!"

"Oh mummy!" Cynthia laughed. "You can't be serious! He's a boy – and my three
friends here will vouch for it! I don't think you can expect . ."
"I can expect him to stand by his word!" Donna argued. Then she turned to me.
"Do you mean what you've been saying all along – or was it just a bunch of
bullshit?"

This was from the woman who I wanted to be my mother in law. I knew that I
either had to go along with her, or lose Cynthia forever. On top of that, my
brain had already figured out a major plus. The girls and Cynthia spent a great
deal of time together – but this gave me the chance to be with her almost all of
the time when the girls were at their own homes. But I couldn't help covering
the bases. Spoke quietly. "Oh ma'am! I meant it all right. I just thought
that Cynthia didn't like the idea?" The implication was there now. I'd go
along – but only if Cynthia agreed. Frankly, I didn't think she would. But
Donna stepped in again.
"Cynthia? I don't see how this can be anything but a good thing for you. You
have tons of clothes that you bought – then didn't like. Fit him just fine!
I'll be responsible for his training. If you ever feel that he won't act or look
properly? You can call off the whole deal."

To my horror, Cynthia giggled. "Oh mom! Put him in my dresses? But he's a
boy!"
"Enough said!" Donna answered. "I won't argue with you all day." She turned
to me. "Alice? You may as well start now. Come and help me make lunch."
"Alice?" I said, horrified.
"Yes. You. Come and help me! I'll look you out some proper clothes. Going
around, dressed like a boy! Got to stop! Come along!"

I licked my lips. "But I'm not sure . ." Then I yowled as Donna simply took a
step towards me and grabbed me by the lobe of my ear. "Come along young lady!"
With that, she easily lifted me out of my chair and strated leading me out of
the room.
"Alice?" Caroline exclaimed.
"Pretty clothes?" from Amanda.
And Betty and Cynthia just giggled and laughed.

Donna kept hold of my ear but stopped and addressed everybody. "This is Alice."
She said, shaking my ear to show who she was talking about. You will address
her as such. My job is to have her behave and look like a young lady for the
next few months. If any of you argue with my decision other than Cynthia, you
will not be welcome in this house!"
"See you soon – Alice" All three girls waved me goodbye.

They sniggered when they saw me next as I delivered soft drinks and sandwiches
in to them. I wore a long full brown skirt, a white peasant blouse with a half
apron over my skirt, I wore a bra, panties, garter belt and a half slip under my
skirt and a pair of flat brown shoes. Donna had listened somewhat to my
embarrassed mewling and I just had a little lipstick, blusher and eye shadow on.
She had simply combed my hair back into a sort of pony tail and used a brown
lace scrunchie to hold it in place,
"Eyes up girl!" Donna commanded me from the rear. "That girl over there is
your new mistress. Her name is Miss Cynthia. Now go and introduce yourself to
her – just the way I told you!"

Face flaming I tried to ignore the lewd comments from the girls and walked over
to Cynthia. Tried to overlook the amusement in her eyes. Doing as I'd been
told – and shown, I curtsied in front of her. "Good afternoon Miss Cynthia. My
name is Alice and Miss Donna wants me to be your friend. Is that all right by
you?"
"You look very sweet – for a boy?" Cynthia asked. You want me to call you
Alice?"
"Only until I compete in the Bridal race Miss Cynthia."
"That's NOT what you were told to say Alice!" Donna spoke. "But it's acceptable.
Now what favor were you to ask Cynthia?"

I blushed even more. "I didn't feel that wearing your nightwear was proper Miss
Cynthia. Mistress Donna suggested that I ask you . ." I stammered to a pause
here, then managed. "To use the money in my wallet and buy me six nightgowns or
baby dolls?"
"You want ME to buy you girly nightwear Albert?"
"ALICE!" Donna reminded her.
"Sorry Alice," Cynthia said. "But you want me to be instrumental in buying you
pretty gowns and negligees to wear at night?"
"Yes ma'am" I managed.
"I must admit to being surprised at your easy acceptance," Cynthia said. "You
DO realize that your masculinity is diminishing in my eyes?"
I felt myself shrink. "Yes ma'am." Saw Dona glare at me – and curtsied to
Cynthia.

She shrugged and turned to the other three. "Looks like the rain is letting up.
Why don't we go and buy Alice some pretties, shall we?"

By the time they got back, Donna had made me shave myself – not that I needed
much – and used a home method to pierce my ears. She had used an electric
curling iron to curl the hair on my brow and painted my nails. Put a little
perfume on me. I still wore my brown skirt and white blouse but I was decidedly
more feminine than I had been when the girls and Cynthia left.

I won't try to describe the feelings of shame I went through when the girl I
wanted as my wife, returned and presented me with various items of ladies
lingerie that was to be worn at night – the shame as I held the items up against
myself and cooed how pretty they were, while Amanda, Betty and Caroline almost
had a fit laughing.

Donna was an apt trainer. For the next few months, I lived the life – and
became – a proper young lady. I never saw another article of male clothing. I
answered to Alice – and learned to ignore being called Albert. In many ways I
became like another daughter to Donna – a sister to Cynthia. I suppose that the
only thing of consequence was that they discovered that I would have to undergo
a physical examination to prove that my breasts weren't padding. For some
reason, I was becoming more relaxed in my new role – perhaps the pills they had
me take daily? But it made temporary sense for me to have realistic silicon
breasts injected in the appropriate locations.

It made sense that I take more pills to make sure not to have a bad reaction
once that surgery was complete. I DID notice that my voice was becoming softer
– surely that was all of the practice? My hips more pronounced – corset
training? And I didn't seem to have as many erections as I'd once had, (This
may have been an increase in my reaction with the girls. They seemed to find it
funny to refer to me as Alice and take me into their arms on a regular basis.
Now that I wore panties all the time – and had many pairs available to me in the
house they didn't mind me getting wet), To be quite truthful, I wanted to speak
to Cynthia about this but I often found that I had the feeling that she'd be
watching one of her friends caress me – then bring me to orgasm with a hand up
my dress or skirt. It'd be embarrassing for me of course – but how was a bride
to be to behave?

Time went by and I became more and more like a sweet and shy girl. Cynthia
seemed to accept this and one day I realized that the girl I wanted to marry had
actually painted my nails – and had helped me with my hair rollers at night. (I
now had a completely feminine hairdo). Checked out my makeup and suggested a
different lipstick – and the worst of all this was the fact that it had all
seemed so perfectly natural!

As a reaction to this thinking, I guess that I had to show everyone that I was
still a guy. I don't even remember what it was I did – to be honest, acting in
a masculine manner was becoming more and more unnatural for me. But Cynthia and
the girls noticed it right away,
"Would you look at Alice?" Caroline tittered. "Acting as if she's a dyke!"
"Yes!" Amanda agreed and opened her arms. "Come into my arms Alice. That's a
pretty petticoat you're wearing under your dress. I'll make you feel like a girl
again."

But Cynthia was in a bad mood that day. "No Alice! What would my mom do if she
saw you acting this way – all boyish and not like a bride at all. Think she'd
be happy?"
Abashed and blushing, I looked down at the carpet. "No Cynthia. I don't think
she'd like it."
"Think she'd spank you on your panties? Teach you to behave properly?"
"I don't know Cynthia." I mumbled.
"Well, she'd gone shopping right now – so I'll have to do. Come over my knees
Alice. Now please!"

"But not a spanking Cynthia! You've never so much as touched me to this day!"
I whined, almost crying.
"I'm STILL not going to touch you. I'll hold your dress with my left hand and
spank your panties with my other. Now get over here – or do I ask the girls to
bring you here?"

And the girls all crowded around us as I put myself over Cynthia's knees and
giggled and laughed as she commented how pretty my dress was – and my petticoat
as I had to lift them out of her way. Then I had to admit – a number of times –
that she was spanking me for my own good – and tearfully, I did so.

After that episode I was as sweet and shy as anyone could ask for.

The day of the big race finally came and I was in my bridal gown completely for
the very first time. Parts of it had been fitted and altered a little to suit,
but with the three girls helping and laughingly describing themselves as
bridesmaids, I was soon completely dressed. I did notice that my breasts now
seemed completely natural and that the white lace corset that I wore seemed to
fit a figure that was feminine – rather than create it.

The dress was long and full, a beautiful mix of satin, tulle, and lace. Short,
full, puffy sleeves emphasized soft white arms that were deliciously feminine –
and I wondered when that had happened. I mean, I'd never been muscular but now
any hint of masculinity seemed to have disappeared, Not only that? But my feet
seemed to have become smaller – were positively dainty in my white shoes with
the pearl embroidery. Then I finally saw myself in a full length mirror and had
to gasp – I was a pretty bride! Smiling, Amanda put my veil on then carefully
covered up my face with it. I picked up my long train. (Donna had taught me
well).

Then I was escorted into the hall and found myself as part of a sea of white
brides. There were about twenty of us I guess, but the hall wasn't really that
big and I found myself touching other brides – then something I hadn't expected
– other brides commenting how lovely I looked. Naturally, I had to repay the
simpering comments and I saw Betty in the crowd that surrounded us – catching me
while I made a compliment – and saw the enjoyment she got as I acted the same as
the other brides.

Next, all of us brides had to singly walk out onto the middle of the floor and
curtsey to the judges. I wondered what this was for but discovered that a
handicap process was in force as some of us girls had short, easy to move in,
dresses – whereas others like myself had long trains which would make racing
difficult. There were about six of us with relatively short trains – although
one girl had a beautiful cathedral train and was given the best handicap. This
took a while and I was glad to see that the girls and Cynthia seemed to have
disappeared. Figured that they'd probably gone to the finish line. Finally,
all of us brides had been handicapped and we were all led outside.

Now the sponsors were there with packages of lingerie and cosmetics for us and
we had to be photographed. Luckily, I saw Donna and was able to give her my
package for me to use later. Then I reminded myself – this was it! This was my
last day as a girl. Surprisingly. I didn't feel as happy as I'd thought I'd be.
But I shook my head and carried on. Looked around me and saw the course.

No expense had been spared. A form of carpet had been laid from the hall about
five feet wide and stretching about two hundred yards and covered in with a
canopy – I guessed it was for possible rain although the day was fine. Us girls
were lined up by our handicap numbers – I even found myself giggling when I
caught myself thinking "Us girls". My training had been TOO effective I
thought. Have to start thinking of myself as a man again! The girls who wore
the freest gowns were the first to go. Sedately they went – as brides should –
though arm in arm, the full length of the course, with the Wedding March from
Lohengrin playing on loudspeakers. Then I was paired up with another girl.
('Another!' I found myself think) and when it was our turn we slowly minced our
way along the carpet to the music, smiling at the people who lined the course.
I also noticed that I was much prettier than my companion – which gave me lots
of reason to smile. Shook my head suddenly – I was thinking more and more like
a girl all the time!

Finally we were all positioned for our race back to the hall. The girls with
the shortest dresses were almost two hundred yards away from the finish line,
then there were a few scattered over the next fifty yards. With some giggling
amongst us, us six drew lots to position us, I had one just in front and four
close behind me – so that all I had to do was pass two girls – one with a train
similar to mine and the girl with the long cathedral train. I figured I had
about a hundred yards to go.

Now silence fell as the announcer said. "All right girls. Get your trains up
into your arms and be ready!"
I found myself giggling a lot as I pulled my taffeta train up and folded it in
my arm. Kept the other free for balance. Then a whistle – and we were off!

Donna had trained me well in that I had practiced in tight skirts and undies
many times. I was also used to high heels and I started out strongly. I passed
the girl in front of me quite easily, then found to my surprise that the girl
with the long train was moving quite easily and maintaining her lead. This
shook my confidence up and I started going faster than my plan called for – and
the laughing and cheering of the crowd distracted me.

Then I saw her falter and I was passed her, out two gowns floating about us as I
went past her side by side. And now the finishing post was about thirty yards
away, when I heard the silky rustle of two dresses at my back. I tried to
increase my speed, but couldn't. With a silky rustle and giggles, two girls
passed me to place first and second.

The girl who had won was put on a pedestal sort of thing, and all of us girls
had to curtsey and wish her all the best. Then I couldn't figure it out – all
of us other girls were herded into a side room and allowed to brush our hair and
fix our makeup – and there were no sour grapes. None at all. They were the
happiest losers I'd ever seen. Then I found out why.

My eyes grew wide as we were herded into the main hall in a soft cloud of white
and sensuous fabrics. The first thing I saw once my vision cleared, were
Amanda, Betty and Caroline – though all of them were identical green dresses,
wit large cartwheel hats. Looked like bridesmaids was my first thought – then
they beckoned to me and as I went over seeing Donna in a pearl gray suit and
actually smiling at me.
"I'm sorry Mistress Donna," I said.
"You tried your very best Alice – and you look wonderful Just let the girls see
to your train and we'll go over here to join Cynthia."
I didn't quite know what to do when Amanda took my train and the other two
followed me – and then I saw that all the other brides were heading to a
circular altar – and Cynthia was wearing a white tux. She was wonderful as
always – although she did look sort of masculine.

Later, we were in a limousine all by ourselves. Her arm was around me and she'd
just kissed me. "You my lovely bride now Alice?" she asked me softly.
"But - But - I'm a man!" I panted.
"Oh? Let me try something," she said – and her hand was up inside my dress.
"Strange dear? You SURE you're a man? I just feel something small and soft,
Certainly not an erection there! You sure now?"
What she had said was true. I really couldn't feel any response from me. "Maybe
the excitement? The race and all?" I hazarded a guess.
"Maybe you're right," she said. But then she seemed to have withdrawn something
from her inside pocket and as she put it under my skirt I herd this funny sort
of noise. "Tell me honestly now Alice! How does THIS feel?"

And something hard was touching my rear end, buzzing its way in between my
panties and gently touching my anus.
"I - I - don't know!" I murmured.
She pulled me into her embrace with one arm and worked the vibrator inside me a
little. "You'll get used to it Alice," she said.