Shave and a Haircut - Part 3

By Veronica Haylee McKenzie


Part 3 - Amber's Story

… As I made my way to my bedroom, my thoughts wandered to the folder hidden in my backpack.  I locked my bedroom door, and lay sprawled out on the bed.  I began to read the dossier:

     Name: Amber Renee Darting
     DOB: 29-OCT-1969
     Sex: Classified

     I thought to myself, “What's going on here?  Why cover up a person's sex?  It's obvious she's female, right???”

I glanced through the documents, hoping to find more clues to the cover-up.  Everything was written in typical bureaucratic double speak, and I had trouble deciphering most of it.  As I was about to toss the lot in the nearest wastebasket, a small pink folio tumbled to the floor.  I picked it up, wondering what details might be inside…

“Personal Journal of Amber Renee Darting”

Hmmm…I thought.  THIS could be enlightening…


I am SOOOO busted!  Mom found my stash of Playboys and now she’s pissed!  What was she doing in my closet, anyways?  I just cleaned my room.  It could have been worse, I guess…  She could have looked behind the mags I keep in there for ‘nosy intruders’ and found my real treasures…


Whew! Was that ever close.  Mom only grounded me for two weeks.  No TV (yeah, if she only knew …), no phone.  I can handle that.  Gives me more time to devote to my true passions.  Everything seems cool, although Dad has started giving me strange looks, and my sister SEEMS awful chummy lately.  I wonder when MY breasts will start to bud like hers…


We had a major storm tonight.  All the houses on the block are out of power.  I hate the dark!  Nothing really to do.  I’m sitting on my bed, reading Pygmalion by flashlight.  Oh, to be Eliza Doolittle …


Well, my secret’s out.  Dena was roaming around in my room, being nosy as usual.  She found my ‘stash’ and promptly pointed it out to Mom.  I came home to a thoroughly distraught parent.  “Mind explaining this, Andy?  And why does most of this belong to me and your sister?”  I started to think of some wild, elaborate story, but thought better of it.  I told Mom everything, and she slapped me and stormed out.  I’ve never seen her that angry.  The smirk on Dena’s face vanished when Mom slapped me, replaced by one of sheer horror.  I can still feel the sting of her hand across my face…


As I stood before my father, the only thing I could see was the bulging vein in his neck.  “You ARE going to ROTHMORE MILITARY ACADEMY, and you WILL like it.  I REFUSE to raise some faggot sissy-boy.  Rothmore is known for making men out of boys, and I’m sure they can ‘fix’ you, too.  Oh, and if you don’t pass ALL of your classes, don’t bother coming home again …”


SHIT! I think.  The bastard could at least have seen me off.  After all, this was his idea.  The train shuddered to life and began its journey down the tracks.  Mom and Dena didn’t stay long, either.  Why couldn’t they just let this all pass?  It wasn’t like I committed murder or something.  I just ‘borrowed’ a few of Mom’s old slips and some of my sister’s bras and panties.  Hell, they never missed them … or so I thought…

It was after midnight when the train arrived at the station.  I’m met by the UGLIEST excuse for a human being I’ve ever seen.  Says he’s SARGE, and for the next six months, he’s Mom, Dad, Teacher, Preacher, Friend, Enemy, God, and the Devil all rolled up in one.  His word is law, and I should address him as SIR YES SIR.  I stifle a giggle, but not fast enough to escape his earshot.  “You laughing at me, maggot??!!!  Drop and give me twenty.  NOW!!!”

He pushed me roughly to the ground, and forcibly lifted me up and down, counting with each push.  I’m still aching from that.  “Next time, maggot, you’ll listen, or ELSE!!!”  I shuddered to think what ‘OR ELSE’ could be.


“Well,” I thought, “this place isn’t exactly Hell.  Hell’s nicer …”

They woke me up at 6:00 AM to begin my first day.  They gave me this sickening green outfit, shaved my hair, and assigned me to my barracks.  Then they led me to chow.  Chow’s right … It looked just like dog food, and tasted worse than vomit.  There are 29 other boys in my company, all as bewildered as I am.  Apparently, this SARGE dude gets his rocks off by being a total dick.  Screw him!!!  I’m blowing this hellhole as soon as possible.


Dear Diary:

Well, I’ve survived my first two weeks, none the worse for wear.  There’s talk of a Fall Dance at the end of the month with the girls from Swarthmore Academy across the lake.  If I can plan this JUST RIGHT, I can make my escape, and no one will be the wiser…  I HOPE this works, as Dena is my only hope.  The letter went out today in the post mail.

          Dear Dena:

          I forgive you for causing this.  You didn’t know.  I’m being tortured now, but am in hopes you can
          help me escape.  In my closet, behind where you found my stash, is a locked foot locker.  Please send
          it to me ASAP, as it may help my situation.

          Your loving brother,

I just hope I laid the guilt on thick enough.  Fortunately, they didn’t think to make me remove my underwear when they made me strip.  I knew taping the key to my privates was a good idea.


Finally.  I never thought the package would arrive.  Thankfully, though, the prison I’m in doesn’t check packages from home.  We’re allowed only one personal effect, and now I’ve used my last option available.  If this fails, I’m stuck at this hellhole.  I ‘volunteered’ for field maneuvers with the SARGE, and luckily, he doesn’t suspect my true intentions.  Phase I is a go, it looks like…

I had found the cave one day while out on patrol.  It was well hidden off the trail, and close enough to the girl’s camp that no one would suspect.   I had mentioned my plan to one other person: Wendy Stratton.  She had a friend that was openly gay, and had expertise at feminizing guys.  I hope she can pull this off.

1500 Hours…  I leave for the ‘training exercise’ alone, in full gear.  I made up some BS with the SARGE and told him I thought lugging around my foot locker would help me gain endurance.  The stupid sod bought that load of crap, and even helped me strap it onto my backpack.  Now, my true test began…

I blindly make my way to the cave, but it seems to take forever.  It’s now 16:45, and the dance starts at 1900, so I’ve only got 2 hours to transform.  I stumble into the cave, and am relieved to see Wendy already set up.  I began to unload my stuff.

Wendy, fortunately, had managed to commandeer a small arsenal of supplies: make up, wigs, a lighted mirror, and even breast forms.

“Where did you get all this, and how did you set it up so fast?” I asked her.

“Real girls need space,” she replied.  “And, I had some help…”

It was at that point I noticed the somewhat familiar shadow in the corner.  “Hello, Andy…” it said.

I blinked.  I just couldn’t fathom my good fortune!  I looked, HARD, at the person who stood in front of me.  “DENA!!!” I squealed.

“I couldn’t let you face the wolves alone,” she said.  “I hope you can forgive me.  I never meant for THIS to happen to you.  I was just upset and jealous of you.  I just want to try to make things right again…”

“I don’t know what to say,” I cried, eyes misty with dewy emotion.  “This is just so…”

At that point, we both wept openly… Fresh, cleansing tears…  After we hugged and gained our composure back, somewhat, the true transformation began…

I stripped down to bare skin.  “I see you remembered to shave EVERYTHING,” Wendy stated.  “And the tape on the manlies… Nice touch…”

“So did you get the ‘garment’ I asked for?” Wendy asked, as Dena held out the panty brief for inspection.

“Yes, Mistress, but it cost me all the money I had saved up…” came the reply.

“Consider it dues paid in full,” Wendy purred, as she felt the material, then planted one of the biggest, wettest, most passionate kisses I’ve ever seen on Dena.

***OMFG! I thought!*** as Dena just smiled, weak-kneed.

“Mom was getting a little too close to the truth, and I needed someone to draw fire.  I never knew it would lead to this…”

“I’ve known about ‘your secret’ for two years now.  Why do you think your ‘stash’ kept getting bigger each time you checked?  I told Wendy as soon as I discovered my trainer missing, and when I found it in your room, I knew…  Then mom found the stash, and then…” she began to sob hysterically.

“Silence!” roared Wendy, as I stood aghast.  “We don’t have time for hysterics.  We have to indoctrinate ‘Amber’ soon, or we won’t have time to complete the ‘mission’.  Put on the brief, and let’s see the fit…”

Dena quickly dried her tears at Wendy’s sudden outburst.  “Sorry, Mistress,” she cooed.  “You’re right, of course.  We don’t have much time.  I’ll help.”

I saw the syringe, but it was too late.  “This won’t hurt… MUCH.” She said, as everything faded to black.

                                    * * * * *

Suddenly, the phone rang, and Mom hollered for me to pick up.  It was Hacker.

“Hi. ‘Tsup you?” I said.

“Nothing here.  Just going to the mall.  Wanna come with?  We can be there in 20.”

“We? Who’s WE?” I asked.

“”Couple guys from school.  The new chick Jenna, Sparks, me … if you go, it can be like a double date or something.  PLEASE…”

God! I love it when he begs.  Makes me feel all warm inside …

“I’ll ask Mom.  Hold on…”  I yelled down to mom, who’s been eavesdropping (mentally)…  “OK, it’s cool.  Mom said yeah.  See you soon.”

In the back of my mind, I could hear Mom’s teasing: “Roni’s got a boyfriend…”

I closed the journal, careful to dog-ear the page and hide it in my drawer under my slips.  Then I slipped into the bathroom and undressed, and slowly stepped into the steaming shower.

Halfway through (as usual) Mom sent me a message that my ‘date’ was here.  **Give me a couple of minutes, Mom.  I’m almost dressed** I projected back.  I quickly dried my hair, threw on my clothes (a light pink blouse and denim skirt, and open-toed flats) and headed downstairs.

Hacker was sitting on the couch in jeans and a t-shirt, so I knew I’d made the right choice.

“We’re headed to the mall.  New Z-Tin Pi-Station-Do Box game’s out.  Maybe grab some ‘za on the way back.  ‘Rents cool with the trib?”

I look at Mom, who was already getting her purse.  “Here’s $20,” she said, and then projected, “The dishes will be waiting when you get back.  And the garbage, and then …” At that point, I rolled my eyes, gave her a quick peck on the cheek as thanks, and headed out the door.  Her last thoughts – “Have a good time, and please be safe …”

We arrived at the mall about 10 minutes later, and Sparky found a spot next to the Food Court.

“So what’re we all going to do?  Z Bot Men of Doom doesn’t come out ‘til next week.  What gives, Hack?” said Sparky.

“I just need to talk with Roni.  There’s things going on I don’t think she understands.  Let’s go back to my place, and I’ll explain …”

And with that, we piled back in and headed to Hacker’s.  Hopefully, I’d be getting some answers soon





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