Body Image

"Can't you tell he likes himself like this?" Kathleen said.

Michael's wife kept her eyes on her husband but directed her question to Kathleen.

"What have you done to him?"

"I've just allowed him to be what he is. Haven't I darling?"
Michael found himself nodding "yes."

"This is absurd," Christine said, impatiently. "Come on Michael. Let's go."

"If you don't mind me saying so, you can be a little intolerant. I'm afraid he doesn't want to go anywhere. Michael loves wearing panties and heels, don't you?"

"Yes," Michael said.

"And he thinks his little toes look so pretty painted like that. Isn't that right, love?"

"Yes."

"Michael," Christine said, hardly believing what she was seeing or hearing. "I'm going to give you one last chance. Are you coming with me or not?"

Michael could feel the tears rolling down his cheeks once again. This time he didn't try to stop them and Christine didn't ask him to. Not that he could have anyway. Michael knew that what he was about to say was going to cost him his marriage, his job, his entire life. But he couldn't stop the words from coming. He wasn't sure if what he said next was true or not. He wasn't even sure what made him say it. He only knew that he had to say what he said next no matter what.

"I like the way I look wearing heels and panties. I think my toes look so pretty painted."

His wife was shaking her head in disbelief but Michael didn't stop.

"I like being called Mona. I want—I want to be a girl," he heard himself say.

"Fine," Christine said. "I give up. I hope you're happy." She turned to Kathleen. "I hope you're both happy. You're welcome to the little faggot."

"I'm so proud of you Mona," Kathleen said, the moment the door slammed behind his wife. She put her arms around the bare shoulders of her weeping sissy. "Come on honey, it'll be okay. Let's share a pint of chocolate Haagen Daz and I'll take you shopping at Sak's. You can continue your diet tomorrow. Okay?"