Just for a moment I’d like you to share an intimate moment with me. I’d like you to imagine climbing inside my head. My head, not my panties.
That’s better. Now, think about this. As I pulled away from the barn, I was leaving two idiots trying to get out of the building, and the dusty road wound up toward the top of a rise, and I had no clue what lay ahead of me.
The sensual warmth of 30’s body against my own, with her gentle breathing, tugged me in one direction, and the thought that I might escape this… this what? Escape ‘this’. My sister was back at the house, and Mrs. Gravely, not to mention 22 and 30. And beyond the house? I knew not what. I didn’t have any money, I might be able to call someone if I could get to a phone. And what would I say? That I was a captive? That was hardly true. I’d been told I could leave anytime, after all.
I was so confused by everything that I had to ask myself, ‘are these people really my enemy?’.
My situation was definitely unusual, but to be absolutely honest, I didn’t dislike the farm and the house. I didn’t really feel like a prisoner, after all. I felt like I wasn’t really in control of events, certainly, but how many of us really are?
As someone progressing along my own story of gender transformation I began to realise that here, in this predawn light, I was beginning to see some things much more clearly than in the light of day. I drew to a halt and turned the lights off. A moment of clear thinking was what I needed. A light breeze stirred the standing grass beside the vehicle. I came to the conclusion that perhaps if I communicated a little better I could find a way to navigate this whole situation a little better. Perhaps I shouldn’t be fighting it so hard.
My own journey was taking me places I never knew I’d go. My excitement wasn’t drawn by simply pulling on a pair of panties. It was driven by something much more powerful. I felt so comfortable now because my entire identity was changing into something it was always meant to be. My appearance had shifted, yes, but that was the least of it. What was happing inside my head was driving this, not what was happening inside my skirt.
The way I felt toward 30 made the point strongly. My feelings for her were not feelings I’d experienced as Andy. This was pure Andrea; and I couldn’t help it. I longed to feel 30’s body against my own with an ache inside that could only be attributed to the feminine side of myself. It was something I’d not ever felt before. I can only equate it to a feel of infatuation that we attribute to young love. I longed for her arms around me. It wasn’t merely about sex. It was about feeling loved. Feeling understood. And who could do that better than someone walking my same path. I soon understood what was happening. I was a woman experiencing her first love.
I wanted to be held, to be kissed hard, and to be fucked. I wanted to experience needing someone. I wanted to experience a stronger partner taking me – and the feeling of giving myself willingly, and without shame.
It was hardly surprising that I felt completely scattered. These last few days in particular had been confusing. I wondered if everyone on this journey felt the same way – the same confusion. Dealing with the day to day challenges of life was hard enough without this throwing me off. My development was such that understanding my existence within my own skin was challenge enough. To go through this alone must be a nightmare. I decided I had to return to the house, to find 30. To understand myself.
I’d anticipated difficulty in finding the house. The roads here seemed to be little more than unlit dust tracks, and I saw no sign posts. As I crested the hill though I could see a plain below me, the path of the river lined by trees, and one house a couple of miles distant was lit up with activity. I could see little spots of light dancing in the fields, which I guessed were people carrying torches and looking in the outbuilding and in the large meadow.
I remember thinking how many times I’d found the city to be a lonely place. So many times that a friendly face never seemed to appear. In some strange way here I was wanted. Protected. Was it any wonder I felt this way?
“They’re searching for me,” I said aloud. And suddenly there was no doubt in my mind. I would hurry back.
I ditched the vehicle a mile from the house. I just ran it into the woods by the river and turned it off, leaving the keys behind the sunvisor.
As I walked uptoward the house a shout went up and the girls searching in the barns and the fields all came toward me. 30 ran to the front of the group.
“What happened?” said 30. I tried to speak before we were surrounded by concerned people.
“Two people. They grabbed me when I was outside. I saw something…” I said, but we were being crowded by the other girls and I knew I should be quiet.
30 Whispered to me, “Don’t worry, just don’t mention we were in your room together.”
And then we were surrounded by the other girls, a group feeling of relief. People were hugging me, hold my hand, and 30 her arms around me in a hug.
Mrs Garavely bustled her way through the crowd and pressed herself between me and the relieved searchers, and I noticed my sister coming from where she’d been searching in the barns. It seemed the whole place was out looking for me.
“What on earth happened?” Asked Mrs. Gravely, a look of genuine concern on her face.
“I couldn’t sleep, and when I went outside for some air. I was grabbed. Two men took me,” I said.
“Are you harmed?” she asked, sounding more businesslike now.
“No, I got away.” I said. “They were careless.”
“I think there’s more to it than that. But we will wait till after breakfast for the details. We should have a talk then. The kitchen staff are preparing for an early breakfast in half an hour. Let’s talk after that,” replied Mrs. Gravely thoughtfully.
I nodded acquiescence.
There was a sense of celebration as the sun came up. Everyone was excited and relieved. And I felt that myself too. My sister came up to me and held me, saying “Thank god you’re ok.”
I said to 30 that I was going to go and shower and change. She followed me toward the house.
Mrs. Gravely then piped up, “It was damned fortunate 30 happened to see you leaving your room when she got up to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night. We mounted a search as quickly as we could.”
“Thank you,” I said, and I meant it.
I can’t overstate the relief and happiness I’d felt seeing everyone out looking for me. Yet, the way Mrs. Gravely’s eyes followed me as I climbed the stairs, 30 beside me, made me wonder just how much she knew. It would not be long until I found out.
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