They Think I am a Woman! - Part 3

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Before I knew it, Sheila had me back on my feet with a little help from a spotty McDonald's helper, who looked like Ronald McDonald's son. I was whisked into the ladies' toilet (another thing to add further horror to my already battered senses). Luckily, there was no one in the toilet. I think I would have died if there were. 'Sheila, let me go home, please!'

'Now don't be a silly girl, Toni. You only slipped and fell over, no big deal.' One, I am not a girl; I am a boy, and by the way, I can hear the way you are spelling my name. Two, I am a boy in a girl's toilet. I am confused as hell, and I've forgotten what I was going to say now.

Oh yes, I WANT TO GO HOME!' Now don't shout, honey; it will only draw attention to yourself. You are doing fine. Look, it's only your coat that's really gotten wet and dirty. Take it off, and I'll see if I can't get it cleaned up a little. But everyone saw me.

They must know by now that I am a pervert dressed as a girl. I bet the police are on the way, and they will lock me up and throw away the key.' Even I could tell that I was beginning to sound a bit delirious. It must have been the shock. While I had been talking, Sheila had started to clean me up and taken the sticky slice of pickle off my hair. God knows how it had arrived there.

It must have had a life of its own. She brushed my hair, wig, or whatever. She then used plenty of tissues to wipe up the splashes of pink goo on my once-shiny shoes. She then proceeded to fix my makeup, which by this time had started to look, to say the least, bizarre.

You may think that I submitted to this meekly, but all the time I was complaining, creating, and behaving like a spoiled brat. There was a knock on the door! I shut up like a clam with laryngitis and looked at Sheila with horror.

'Quick, into the toilet booth, while I find out who it is.' I rushed into the small cubicle, locked the door, and sat down on the toilet.

I nearly screamed as I realized that some prat had lifted the seat, and my silkily clad and almost bare rear end touched the cold white porcelain of the toilet bowl.

I eventually sorted myself out and then heard Sheila and another woman talking about me. 'Hello, Madam, I am the duty manageress. How is your friend? Is she OK?' 'Yes, she is tidying herself up in the cubicle. She'll be alright in a minute.'

The mother of the little boy has apologized to you both and has left. She has paid for a new meal for you both.

When your friend has cleaned up, please let us know what you want, and I'll make sure it's brought over to your table. Is that OK?' 'Yes, that's fine. I don't think she will be long now.'

With that, I heard the door close, so I stood up, unlocked the door, and poked my head out. 'Is she gone?' I whispered. 'Yes, did you hear what she said? 'Yes, but I can't go in there; everyone will know what I am.'

'That's right, they will.' 'Eh?' They will see you for what you are, a pretty young girl. Look at yourself in the mirror. Is that a reflection of a boy or a girl? I looked at myself.

My hair was a bit mussed up, and my makeup still wasn't quite repaired yet, but there was no denying that there was no way anyone would think I was a boy dressed and looking like that. Hell, I looked so nice, my penis started to shake itself and stir uncomfortably down below.

God, how creepy I was beginning to fancy myself! Let me tell you, dear and patient reader, that there is nothing more uncomfortable than a restricted and bent stiffy!

'I look OK, I guess,' I said grudgingly. 'You look more than OK; you look lovely, and you know it.

I wish I had legs like yours. Now come on, let's finish tidying you up and go and have that meal.' In a few minutes, you would not have known that I had a near-death experience with a pickle. Sheila had gone off with the coat and then came back with it looking a bit damp, but without any sign of pink.

My hair was neat and tidy, and my makeup had been redone to Sheila's satisfaction. It was with a lot of trepidation that I left the toilet and walked the three miles to the table in the corner. I looked around to see if anyone was laughing at me or ringing the police on their mobiles.

I swear that I saw a baby in a pram with a mobile, but that may have just been my heightened sense of unreality.

I noticed that all the faces were different. I then remembered that people never stayed long in places like that, and a whole new load of gullible punters had taken the place of the ones that were there when we arrived.

We ate our meal in silence. Sheila was too busy filling her face, and I was looking around furtively to see if I was being ogled.

As I saw people munching away at their Big Macs and breaking their teeth on the rock-hard fries. I realized that no one was paying us the least bit of attention. I started to relax, and my heart rate dropped to around 150 a minute.

I dipped my McNuggets into the mild curry sauce and actually managed to force some down without puking. I brushed the hair out of my eyes and started thinking about, of all things, whether I preferred stockings to tights!

I suddenly realized that for a few moments, I had forgotten that I was a boy dressed as a girl. I felt like a girl, or what I assumed a girl should feel like. My penis had shrunk back to manageable proportions and was no longer an uncomfortable problem.

I reveled in the coolness of my legs when the inappropriate air conditioning wafted air up them. The cool, silky touch of my clothes and the way my silky panties slid on the mock leather seats all made me feel what could only be described as feminine.

'God,' I thought, 'I could get used to this.' Suddenly, I jumped as Sheila spoke. 'That was nice. Have you finished yet? We need to go. I'm feeling tired and need to get some sleep.

I'm covering a shift for someone in a few hours. I hurriedly finished my meal, and we went out into the chilly air. I put my still slightly damp coat on as I was getting goosebumps on my bare arms.

We walked over to the car and got in. In no time, we were on the way to the safety and security of home.

Sheila kept looking at her watch and muttering about the time.

We were nearly home when we heard a siren behind us, getting nearer with every second. I looked behind and saw the flashing lights of a police car come up close behind. 'Oh shit,' said Sheila as she pulled over to the side.

She switched off the engine and got out of the car as the tall policeman walked over.

I could not hear the conversation as I huddled down into the seat, trying to make myself as small and inconspicuous as possible. Suddenly, I heard a tap on the window. I didn't see the other policeman come up to the car.

I wound down the window and said in my best squeaky Minnie Mouse voice, 'Can I help you?' 'Get out of the car, please.' I opened the door and got out.

I nearly tripped on the hem of my dress as I caught it on something but managed to get out without anything ripping or dropping off. I looked over the hood of the car and noticed that Sheila was being searched!

My policeman said to me, 'Name, please.' Erm, Tony Summers, put your hands on the hood and spread your legs, please. In a dream, I did as I was told. I saw Sheila opposite me doing the same.

Our eyes met. I could see the horror in her eyes as we realized simultaneously that very soon, the policeman would find a package that he did not bargain for! He started with my ankles and quickly frisked up to my hips, and then...