The LGBT Army’s New Recruit

Earworm, I think they call them, you know one of those tunes that you just cannot get out of your head. If I have gotten that right then I have a headworm, there is this thought that keeps popping up inside me. 

I’m getting a bit ahead of myself, keen to unload the thought. 

I’m an 18 year old living in my own apartment in Chelsea…

OK…I can hear what you are thinking - spoilt rich kid - well just a minute…my home is a World's End council housing estate flat on one of the floors way up in the sky, a right schlep when the lift is out. The tenancy passed on to me when grandad passed on.

Whats up - that ‘rich kid’ remark not feeling so good now?

Don’t feel too bad. See grandad was a bit of a lad - you know a villain in his day. Not a flash git, me and him are down to earth Londoners, well just me now. Anyway he left me a bit in his post office savings so life is OK. Everyone calls me Dave but really I am David to the local police and them as don’t know me.

So now you know all you need I’ll get back to how my headworm began, if anyone is to blame it’s Julie. We were at school together on the days we bothered to go and we became an item, well one thing leads to another and soon enough after Grandad is gone she begins to stop over some nights ‘to ease the pain you’re  feeling’ she says even though she’s the one doing all the crying out and moaning when we get back from the pub. 

Julie works at an agency, she doesn’t like to talk about it. 

You wonder what I do? Well I sort of do a bit of buying and selling, well mostly selling if you get my drift which kind of leads me back to the headworm. It’s a Monday, I am home alone most mornings listing items on one of those auction sites that shoplifters use. Julie and me had hit the devils lettuce over the weekend and she put a wash in the machine before leaving for work this morning.

Yes, yes I’m getting there.

I’m emptying the dryer and being a good boyfriend I’m folding her things real nice. I begin to wonder what being Julie feels like as (just by coincidence you understand) I’m folding her silky undies. I jump as she pulls the AirPod from my ear.

“What you thinking?” Julie says

I know never to answer that question honestly “I was wondering what to have for dinner” I say all pleased with myself.

“Then put my panties down” Julie says.

That wondering kept creeping up on me over the next few days, Julie was sleeping back at her mum’s. Next time she stayed over we were having a night in front of the TV, a bit of lettuce and a pill or three. We were all super relaxed and chatting in bed, so relaxed I ask the most stupid question I knew should stay inside my head. 

“What does it feel like to be a woman?” I say then I take a sharp intake of breath as if I would be able to suck the words back in again.

Even with a head full of lettuce Julie has a mind that can outrun a greyhound. “How do you mean, clothes?”

“Not really” I say

“I suppose you could put some of mine on if that’s what you want…lots of men have a thing about that” Julie says

Suddenly I’m all sobered-up and I desperately need to recover “what fucking men…and how do you know so much about what lots of men want?” I say feeling all pleased with myself as I look down from the moral high ground.

“No need to be like that Dave, I won’t tell anyone.” Julie says.

As if my mouth is on autopilot I ask “Won’t tell anyone what?”

“That you have this cross dressing fetish.” Julie says. She’s in a full-on lettuce giggle now “or are you thinking of becoming a woman?” she pauses "Oh my god…that’s it…you want to be a woman".

This is going badly and can only get worse nevertheless I try to dig myself out and say “not be a woman. I asked what it is like being a woman.” 

I’m so deep in my hole that I can barely see over the top as Julie is texting a Uber.

Things happen pretty fast over the next few days, first let me tell you about Wednesday. I’m home and horny after missing out last night, time for some solo fun. The first one gets spoilt by the headworm and a bit later I employ the internet to occupy my mind, a guy hung like a donkey is doing the business with a girl and I’m pacing myself…

Yes…it’s just like women’s menzies syncing, now be quiet.

Well anyway I get to the vinegar stroke and my headworm is back. I am wondering what the woman on the screen feels…no not in her c.., well not below her waist I mean, in her mind. 

Sex aside for a moment I know what it feels like when I walk down the street or look in a shop window or see a nice car or speak to girls without them thinking you want to fuck them. All the programs on TV about womens liberation makes me wonder more and more how it feels actually being a woman…from the inside.

“Sorry about you and Julie” Ann says when I see her. Ann is Julies mate. It’s not news to me, Julie had totally freaked out about the whole thing by the next day. 

Julie and me are on a break. 

Ann comes back to the flat for a cup of tea, thankfully the lift is working and we are fucking within minutes. In all honesty it’s not the first time.

Julie, Ann and me go back a long way. Well it seems a long way when you are eighteen, anyway Ann tells me Julie already has a guy sniffing round which is fine by me. 

“We wern’t forever” I say to Ann.

I go around to Ann’s one night, we are going out clubbing…

What?

No we are not an item only fuck buddies. Plan is to go out as a hunting party.

What's a hunting party? Go out as a couple then split when one spots quarry, now you know everything.

“Julie told me why you split, well you know how mates talk…” Ann is holding up a little black dress “…we could go to Shambles”

“Why not” I say, OK I have been out wearing a dress before - an obvious guy in a dress not trying to attract that sort…well you know what I mean. I take my top off and slip the dress on then Julie adds a little discrete colour to my eyes.

“Lets keep it between us?” I say

“You didn’t need to ask. No one else is going to Shambles. You could try…” Ann lets the suggestion float. She has a lipstick in her hand and I’m in two minds about going all the way. 

“Not tonight Ann.” I say. 

“Another time then, it’s no biggie” Ann says. 

“We can stay together?” I say. The colour Ann put on my eyes is a step further than I’ve been before and it’s making me feel all needy, scared, excited, and wanting even more to try silencing the worm all at the same time.

“We can stay together if that’s what you want” Ann says, smirks “unless you pull”.

We get to Shambles and Greg on the door lets us in gratis then with a smirk says “have a nice night girls.”

No need to ask - I know what you are wondering. My man in a dress night has made my headworm more frequent and louder. Now I’m certain that I needed to silence my headworm once and for all.

Too dangerous to properly go out local or anywhere I might be seen so I began to formulate a plan, Ann is being a really supportive friend which is giving me the confidence I need. 

Yes, yes still with benefits - all 18 year olds have needs.

Ann gives me some fashion advice as we walked around the mall and soon enough I had liberated a designer casual leggings and top outfit.

“Perfect look for a Saturday shopping trip” Ann says. 

Next I liberated some rather sparkly fem sneakers to complete the outfit. OK I admit it, several outfits, well enough that I could trade a rather stylish pair of sneakers for a bra that Ann had boosted which I later complained about how much more difficult it was to put on than take off. 

“You cannot wander around without one, people will notice” Ann had said when I made a protest. A just for show protest - not enough to risk Ann suggesting I not bother wearing the bra. 

“And so uncomfortable, you deserve a big reward for all your help Ann” I said and smiled. 

We took a train to Brighton for the weekend, I've booked us three nights in the presidential suite at The Grand. It’s a very broadminded town and far enough away from Chelsea not to be seen by friends. I had enough outfits for the whole four days - plenty of time to silence my headworm once and for all.

“This weekend away doesn’t mean we are becoming a couple” Ann said as we sat outside a coffee shop in The Lanes like a hot girl and her tranny friend. 

“I can’t imagine any girl would want me as a boyfriend until I’ve gotten this out of my system” I say. I’m fully ‘femmed-up’ as Ann put it and even wearing full daytime makeup. 

“Or after” Ann said throwing one of her wicked smiles. 

We were having such a brilliant time that I liberated some heels and learnt to walk around in them in time for Saturday night. The other great thing about the weekend was the people in Brighton, no one seemed to care or even indicate they had noticed that I was a man. I mean noticed that I am a man wearing women’s clothes. 

Saturday night a guy is hitting on Ann but his eyes keep settling on me as if he’s using her to get to me…you know…dancing with the hot girls mate…

What am I doing while Ann dances? 

Chatting to a few likeminded folk - that’s right men in dresses, no that’s wrong they are full blown trannies.

What?

OK, OK - I didn’t mean anything, it’s just the word I picked up from grandad. Here on I’ll use a more acceptable LGBT term…LGBT army, Tranny Platoon. 

That alright?