Caught between a rock and a high heel 19

Halfway through the following week, Kieron wearily entered Keira's bedroom after another gruelling day of work. Eagerly, he eased his sore feet out of the pointy stiletto heels that had been mercilessly squeezing his toes. Leaving the unforgiving shoes behind, he unzipped his snug pencil skirt, exhaling a deep sigh of relief as his stomach finally found freedom. With a swift kick, the skirt flew across the room, soon followed by the tights he peeled from his aching legs.

Kieron then sank to the floor, savouring the ice-cold water he had fetched from the fridge through a straw. This moment of solitude had become a cherished ritual, allowing him to collect his thoughts before joining Becca for dinner. As he sat there, the soothing rhythm of massaging his throbbing feet on the bedroom floor helped him unwind.

Today had been curiously devoid of stress, especially considering he had spent most of it traversing London dressed as a woman. Reflecting on this transformation, Kieron couldn't help but feel a twinge of unease at how much he had changed.

(See image 37)

A sudden tap on the door caught Kieron off guard, and as he looked up, the handle turned, and the door creaked open. "Can I come in?" Becca inquired, her head peeking through the partially ajar door.

"Sure," Kieron agreed while wondering what was so urgent that it couldn’t wait until dinner.

With a warm smile, Becca stepped inside and ambled over to Kieron's spot. Without any hesitation, she gracefully lowered herself to join him on the floor. "I've got some news," she revealed, settling in comfortably.

"Bad news?" Kieron probed, placing his glass on the ground, bracing himself for the worst.

"In a way," Becca admitted. "There's no sugarcoating it, so I'll just come out and say it," she continued, attempting a reassuring smile. "My sister's had a change of heart and decided to stay in France."

Taking a brief pause to ensure her words had registered, Becca observed Kieron as he let out a subdued sigh and hung his head in dismay. " It’s just like her of course, reliably unreliable."

"What does this mean for me?" Kieron mumbled, his gaze fixed on the ground.

"I'm not sure," Becca admitted, feeling guilty as she watched Kieron's crestfallen expression. "You're welcome to stay here; that's not an issue. As for the job, you could give notice and work through the month."

"Then what?" Kieron murmured, a lone tear trickling down his cheek. "Where can I go looking like this? I can't go home with these lips, and all the stuff they injected into my face isn't going away."

"I'm sorry, Kieron," Becca whispered gently, taking the young Irishman's hand without any resistance. "If it's any consolation, I'm genuinely amazed at how you've adapted and coped with everything, and I think you look rather cute."

Kieron's head snapped up, and his eyes met Becca's. Noticing her sincerity, a puzzled expression crossed his face.

"I mean, if you were actually into all this, I’d date you," Becca added, smiling bashfully.

A brief silence hung in the air as Kieron's mind churned, and then, inexplicably, he thrust his swollen lips forward, pressing them against Becca's. She responded by kissing him back, and a passionate half-minute ensued before Becca abruptly pulled away. "I'm sorry," she stammered, looking flustered. "That felt great, but we can't. Not if you're going to leave. I've been hurt before."

"Uh... yeah, okay," Kieron mumbled, his befuddled mind struggling to make sense of the situation.

"Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes. I've ordered sushi," Becca informed him as she stood up. "We can discuss your situation more then, alright?"

"Alright," Kieron agreed, nodding his head as he watched Becca hurry out of the room, leaving him more bewildered than ever.

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Perched on skyscraper-tall heels, Kieron stood on the street, awaiting his ride after spending the morning browsing the designer stores of Central London. As he waited, his thoughts drifted back to the perplexing moment on the bedroom floor with Becca the week prior – a memory that still left him disoriented.

Neither of them had mentioned the incident since it occurred; it seemed easier to carry on as if it never happened. Yet, Kieron couldn't help but grapple with some peculiar thoughts. A part of his mind, which he desperately tried to quell, couldn't help but ponder what life would be like if he took Becca's suggestion to heart. Having lived as a woman for weeks, he reluctantly acknowledged that it hadn't been all that terrible, particularly if it meant exploring a relationship with Becca.

But then, the more dominant male part of his psyche rebelled against the idea, detesting the dressing up, the uncomfortable clothes, the grooming, and the stares from men. This part of his brain fought back, reminding Kieron of the life he had enjoyed before all the chaos ensued.

The sharp ring of a phone snapped Kieron back to reality. Cautiously, he reached into his handbag with his long blue nails, freshly manicured the previous week. As he observed his own delicate hand movements, he briefly wondered how long it would be before the colour and style of his nails would change again.

Retrieving the phone, he saw Gina's name on the caller ID and answered. For the next sixty seconds, he listened intently, interjecting an occasional grunt of acknowledgement before the call concluded. Slipping the phone back into his handbag, Kieron stood motionless for an instant as the frenzied activity of the bustling street seemed to fade away. In that fleeting moment, the throbbing pain in his feet from his towering designer shoes, the embarrassment of the flashy, over-the-top outfit draped over his feminine figure, and the odd sensation of earrings dangling from his recently pierced ears all seemed to evaporate.

(See image 38)

A whirlwind of emotions engulfed the young, cross-dressed man as he processed the news Gina had just relayed over the phone. Fear, revulsion, and anxiety! She had delivered the information as if it were a work assignment, but she had just informed him that after getting dolled up at a location across town that Friday evening, he would be accompanying his boss Tom for a night out in the city. It felt like something he should have the right to say no to. The last thing he wanted was to spend an uncomfortable evening with his boss, particularly given the uncertainty about Tom's intentions. After all the lingering glances and flirtatious compliments, everything in the feminized man's mind indicated that this was nothing short of a date - a date he neither wanted nor could avoid!