by Alyson Belle
He found Amy sitting in front of her locker with her legs crossed, lost in the pages of a history textbook which sat open in her lap. She lifted her head at his shuffling step and quirked a smile at him, holding a page mid-turn. He’d had a good speech planned, a furious dressing-down that would scald her with the full brunt of the anger stirred up by Pete’s shoves and momentarily tamped down by the looming threat of Pete’s meaty fists, but the words dried up in his mouth like they always did for him, his tongue sticking in his throat. His hands shook at his sides, and her eyes rested on them for just a moment before returning to her textbook. She completed the page turn.
“Hello, Mikala,” she said. “Where’ve you been all week?”
“Shush!” he said, half-choking on the word. “Don’t call me that. Jesus, where do you think we are?”
“Right, sorry, forgot,” she said, her tone making it clear she hadn’t. “You never talk to me at school, usually. I’m so used to your other name.”
“Real cute, Amy, real cute. Fun little game you’re playing with me. Except now I’m really screwed!”
“I thought you were into that.” She turned another page.
He bent down and snatched the book away from her, slamming it shut.
“Hey!” she said, her face flushing. She sprang to her feet, hands balling into fists.
“Will you just listen to me for a minute? Jesus! Pete is going to kill me and it’s all your fault!” He clutched the book to his chest like it was a kevlar vest, a thin line of protection against the angry glare that shot towards him. When his words registered with her, her fingers uncurled and she cocked her head at him.
“Why is Pete going to kill you?” she asked.
“Because Chuck can’t shut up about how ‘Mikala’ is the hottest piece of ass he’s ever had and how he needs to meet her in person and how I should set him up with my cousin…”
Amy burst into laughter, doubling over.
“Yeah, really funny. Except the thing is that Pete told me Chuck is really heartsick over it, and if I don’t make it happen by tomorrow afternoon, he’s going to kick my ass.”
Amy’s laughter subsided and something more like pity replaced the amusement on her face. “Wait, really?”
“Really. So thanks. Thanks for the great time with your boytoys, Amy. Because now Pete’s going to break both my arms.”
She was quiet for a moment, considering. “Maybe I can talk to them…”
“No!” Mike’s hand sliced through the air, cutting down the suggestion. “No way. It’ll be even worse if Pete thinks I ran to you asking for help. He’ll give me hell for the rest of the semester in there.”
“What do you want me to do, Mike?”
“I don’t know, I don’t know. This whole thing is your fault. I just thought--”
“My fault? You’re the one who went joyriding in Kyla’s avatar in the first place.”
“Yeah, and it should have ended there! A one-off, one time thrill.” Amy’s eyes got big and wide, and she tried to reach out to shush him, but he shook her off and plowed forward. “And instead you pulled me in, and made me be Mikala, made me do all these things, made me feel--”
“You’re Mikala?” asked a third, horribly-familiar voice.
Mike spun around to see Kyla standing behind him, backpack slung low over one shoulder, mouth hanging wide in a perfect ‘O’ of shock. Mike wanted to melt into his shoes, creep away, slide down a drain, and die quietly somewhere where no one could see him. Pictures of his mom crying, his dad yelling, his sister laughing at him all danced through his head as he started vigorously shaking it.
“No. No! I mean, what are you talking about? Who is Mikala? How do you know about Mikala?” He was speaking so fast he was tripping on his own words now, hoping desperately for Amy to step in and save him, but she just stood silently behind him.
Kyla closed her mouth, tightened her grip on her backpack and studied him with the same strange look that had come over her when he’d first asked about the log-hacker and reminded her about the stolen cookies.
“Amy told me all about Mikala,” she said slowly.
Mike spun. “Amy?” he cried.
“She’s my girlfriend. Of course I told her about Mikala. We share everything. I didn’t tell her it was you.”
“What did you say, exactly?”
“Just the truth…”
“What’s the truth, Amy? Huh?” He wasn’t sure if he was about to cry or hit something.
Kyla cut in. “She said she knew a boy who wanted to be a girl. She thought, maybe. And she was helping him figure things out.”
Mike shuffled and looked at his feet. His sneakers were scuffed from when he’d been scrambling on the floor. He was confused. He’d expected anger from Kyla, derision, maybe indignation. Not… this. Not sympathy.
“I didn’t have any idea it was you, Mikey.” She reached a hand out to his shoulder, but he jerked back from her touch.
Her words circled his chest, ratcheting in and squeezing his lungs into his heart. The whole school felt too hot. “Jee-zus. Is that what you think?”
The girls stood silent, waiting.
The heat was pressing in all around him, climbing up his throat, flattening his face, constricting his lungs, and he felt it start to push tears up the back of his throat. He set his jaw and shoved them down before they could make it to his eyes.
“It doesn’t matter anyway,” he finally choked out, “because Mikala is just a stupid virtnet fantasy and Pete is going to murder me tomorrow after school.”
“What’s he talking about?” asked Kyla. “Why is Pete going to murder him, Amy?”
And then there was nothing to do but fill her in. Mike slumped down next to Amy, tossing her book on the floor and hanging his head between his knees while Kyla took a seat on the other side of her. She listened while Amy told her everything, from start to finish. The whole time, Mike was dying of shame, waiting for her to laugh, waiting for the shoe to drop, waiting for he didn’t know what, and he couldn’t even bring himself to look at her. The dizzy, hot feelings kept attacking him while he waited, and when it was finally done, he raised his head the slightest bit and said, “Please Kyla, please… you can’t tell Dad.”
“I’m not going to tell Dad,” she said quietly. “I wish I’d known this Mikala girl was you, I guess.”
He laughed bitterly. “Sure. Right. All we ever do anymore is fight, when you’re not in virtnet. When’s the last time we had a real conversation?”
“We’re talking now,” she offered.
“And what could I even say? Hey, Ky, you wanna know what I think is really sexy? You wanna know what I jack off to?” He watched her face screw up at the words ‘jack off’ from the corner of his eye and said, “Yeah, see?”
“Okay, point taken. I don’t want to know about my step-brother’s sexy… anything.” She fixed him with a pitying look again. “But Mike, from what Amy was saying, it seems like this goes a little deeper than just getting a little thrill for you. I mean, I’ve worn boy avatars before.”
Mike felt his eyes seem to bulge out of their sockets. “You have?”
She shrugged. “Sure. Once in a while. It’s weird, kinda fun. But I definitely prefer my usual one… it feels more right to me somehow.”
“Must be nice,” Mike murmured. He didn’t have to look up to feel the sympathy the two girls were beaming into him.
“Is that how it feels for you when you’re Mikala?” Kyla asked.
“I don’t know,” he lied.
“This whole time I thought you were just being a perv…” she said. “I’m sorry, Mikey…”
“For what?”
“I dunno. The way things are. Here at school. At home. It must feel pretty unfair sometimes.”
Was this his Kyla? It was like aliens had abducted her and replaced her with someone who actually had empathy. He wondered what had changed between them. “Why the sudden sympathy, Ky?”
“Because I know what it’s like to
feel things I can’t share with Mom and Dad,” she said, gesturing to Amy like she was presenting Mike a prize on a game show.
“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” he mumbled.
“Fine,” she said. “So what are we going to do about Pete?”
In all of the emotional drama, he’d half-forgotten his predicament. Now it came crashing back full force, one more horrible thing to worry about. He groaned.
“I don’t know, I don’t know. Don’t you guys have a friend that could pretend to be Mikala or something? Just for one date?”
The girls shared a look. “Not really,” Amy said. “Most of our friends go to school here… plus, can you imagine explaining all this to someone?”
“There isn’t anyone you could ask?” he pleaded.
“Dude,” said Kyla. “I feel for you, but who’s going to be willing to pose as someone else, do it convincingly on a date, and pretend that she had amazing virtnet sex with Chuck when she’s never met him before? Not to mention you probably won’t want us to tell her why she’s doing it.”
He hung his head. She was right. It was hopeless.
“I wish we could help you,” she continued, “But we can’t just magic up a nonexistent girl for you.”
“Then I guess I get pounded tomorrow,” said Mike.
“Unless…” said Amy. Kyla and Mike both turned to look at her. She was smiling wickedly.
“Unless what?” said Kyla.
“Can you guys come over to my place tonight?”
“I guess…” said Mike. “If you have a way to get me out of this.”
“What’s your plan?” asked Kyla.
“You’ll find out tonight,” Amy said. “I just had the best idea ever.”
A Gamble
“This is literally the worst idea I’ve ever heard,” said Mike.
The three of them stood in Amy’s bedroom, staring at all of the things she’d carefully placed out on her bed: skirts, shirts, stockings, bras and panties, and row after row of little boxes full of tubes and brushes and powders that seemed to comprise the whole of her makeup collection. It looked like she was all set to play life-size Barbie, or like she’d just finished taking a complete inventory of all her girliest things.
“It might be worth a shot…” said Kyla.
“No way,” said Mike. “Are you kidding me? This is our best plan?”
He turned to walk back out the door, but Amy quickly slid into his path and kicked it shut with her foot. “Hear me out,” she said.
“What if your parents see all this?”
She shook her head. “No chance. Mom is a lawyer who works super late every night. We’ll be done before she ever gets home. My dad lives in California.”
“Fine. But what about Chuck? How could he possibly believe that I was a girl?” asked Mike. She really was crazy, he decided. Hell-bent on getting his ass kicked.
“People believe what they want to,” insisted Amy. “And I think you’d make a more convincing girl than you might think…” She stepped in close, studying him. “How tall are you? About 5’9”, right? Perfect height for a girl on the tall side of average.”
Mike glanced at Kyla, looking for help, but now she was staring at him too, and not in a way that was very reassuring. “He does have kind of feminine features, doesn’t he?” she said.
“Jeez, Kyla!” Mike cried.
“I’m just saying. And you don’t have any facial hair to speak of...”
“And not much body hair, either…” added Amy. They were hitting him right where it hurt. So what if puberty was going a little slow for him?
“What about my voice?”
“Higher than average,” Kyla said. “Just speak a little softer and higher than normal.”
“But… but… what about my short hair? And it’s not like I have breasts!”
“Don’t need them,” said Amy. “Plenty of teenage girls are pretty flat. As for hair…” She stepped over to her closet and rummaged around for a moment. When she emerged, she was holding a long, brown wig in her hands. “This should work! I, er… borrowed it from the theater department at school.”
Mike slid down against the wall and put his face in his hands. “You have got to be kidding me. You guys can’t possibly expect me to do this.”
Amy shrugged. “Look, you wanted us to get you a Mikala. Well, this is your way out. You go on one little date as Mikala, Chuck and Pete are happy, and you’re in the clear. I think you should at least let us make you up and see how you look before deciding you’d rather let Pete kick your ass.”
“I’m not sure this is better,” Mike said. “It’s never going to work.”
“Do you have any other ideas?” asked Amy.
He slowly shook his head.
“Then it’s settled. You don’t have any other choice. Let’s get to work.”
Kyla picked up a bra between two fingers and peered at it. “Where’d you get all this stuff anyway, Ames? This isn’t your size.”
“My older sister,” Amy said. “When she went to college, she left boxes and boxes of her old clothes here. She’s tall with huge feet… I think her shoes will even fit him.” She grinned. “Good thing, huh?”
Kyla dropped it back into the clothes-pile. “I guess we may as well try it, Mikey. What do you have to lose?” She smiled. “Or I mean, I guess we may as well try it, Mikala.”
Mike groaned again.
In the end, the girls had their way. He’d already been Mikala in virtnet, hadn’t he? How much worse could it really be to play her in real life? He obediently took the razor Amy presented and went to go shave in her shower. It galled him, but Kyla was right. He hardly had more body hair than she did. At least it was useful for once, instead of getting him teased in the locker room. There was a pink bottle of shaving cream in the shower. He squeezed some out, spread it over himself, and shaved off the little bit of hair he did have with a few quick cuts. Then he attacked the light hair which covered his legs, working in long, careful strokes. It took longer than he expected. How did girls do this all the time? His hairless legs felt strange when he was done, like all of his sensations were amped up against the new, silky smooth skin.
When he’d finished, rinsed, and patted himself dry, Kyla and Amy were waiting for him outside the bathroom door with a small pile of neatly folded clothes. Amy shoved them in to Mike in a bundle around the cracked door. When he saw the pink silk of a bra and panty combo sitting on top, his confidence wavered. Would they laugh at him when he came out? He considered making a break for it, but he doubted the girls would let him go, now. He’d need to see this through.
The panties went on first, sliding over nude legs, and then he picked up the bra with shaking hands. He paused, stumped, trying to figure out how to put it on.
“Um…” he said. “Hey Amy?”
“Put it on backwards, clasp it in front of you, and then slide it around,” she said, correctly guessing what he’d been about to ask. He followed her instructions and soon had it secured properly in place.
Next came a white cotton camisole and a fuzzy purple v-neck sweater, both pulled on over his head. The sweater clung to his body and he was surprised to see that the padding of the bra actually gave him an illusion of having small breasts under it. It gave him a strange feeling to see himself standing in the mirror with breasts. It was embarrassing, but it almost made him feel sexy… confused by the feeling, he looked away and hastily pulled on the nice grey skirt the girls had chosen, and then carefully tugged on a pair of translucent, grey tights underneath.
He was afraid to look at himself in the mirror again. Instead, he turned towards the door.
“Okay,” he said. “I’m dressed. Do you promise not to laugh?”
“We promise,” said Kyla.
He slowly opened it, standing in front of them fully dressed in Amy’s sister’s clothes. Amy kept a straight face, although Kyla broke out into an amused grin before stuffing it back down. Mike’s hands twitched at the hem of the skirt.
He’d never felt so awkward. The panties felt too small, and the bra felt strange and confining. When he moved, the skirt swished and reminded him of its unfamiliar presence. Dressing like Mikala sure didn’t make him feel like Mikala.
“Not bad…” said Amy, looking at him thoughtfully.
“Come on, let’s get him into make-up,” said Kyla.
Before he could protest they were dragging him into the bedroom. Amy sat him down in her desk chair while Kyla threw a towel over the floor-length mirror standing across from them. “You can see when we’re done,” she explained.
For the next half hour, he sat quietly and tried not to fidget while the girls rubbed and brushed all kinds of things on his face: primer and foundation, concealer and blush, bronzer and powder. A stick of lip gloss glided over his lips, leaving the faint taste of strawberries. Then there was a brief pause while they discussed how to handle his eyes -- Kyla wanted an understated smoky look, while Amy pushed for making them pop with heavy liner and lashes. Amy won out and soon he was holding his eyes shut while the girls attacked him with another flurry of brushes, liquid liner, and mascara. While they were closed, he felt something spritz against his neck and he jumped, eyes snapping back open. A sweet, citrus scent filled his nose, and Kyla pulled away holding a bottle of perfume. He even smelled like a girl now!
When they’d finally decided the work was more or less complete, Amy got behind him and gently worked the wig onto his head. It felt lighter than he expected, and he had to admit the hair was convincing. It fell across his face and spilled down to his shoulders, parted on the side. Amy pinned it into place with special pins.
“It hooks into your real hair,” she explained. “So even if someone pulls, it’ll stay on.” Mike remembered the feeling of Chuck grabbing Mikala’s hair to finish off the blowjob in virtnet and blushed bright red.
“Oh, you look pretty when you blush like that,” Kyla said, smiling at him. His face got even hotter.
Amy patted the wig a few more times. “I think we’re done,” she said. “Kyla?”
“Well?” Mike asked, raising and softening his voice a bit. “How do I look?”
