Tranford Tales - Madoka

CHAPTER 1

I looked half oriental, and Mum told me my Dad had been Japanese.

I embraced my Japanese heritage. Sort of.

I found some computer games had an option for Japanese instead of English, so learned some of the language, though in a rather limited area. I knew how to say things about magic gemstones and dragons rather than asking for directions to the station. I found out some of the cultural references to stories that were as well-known to Japanese children as fairy stories and nursery rhymes were to my schoolmates. I knew things about Japan that other schoolmates did not and certainly didn't particularly want to know when I told them.

By the time I started work, I had learned not to share my interest. But my mother had to put up with it a bit. I called her Mama or Kaasan.

I was a twenty-six-year-old man living with his mother.

I loved anime and manga. When I saw an anime series on TV, I was entranced, and delighted when I eventually got the DVDs. It was about some Japanese schoolgirls who could change into superhero warriors to save the Earth from villains. I eventually found another series about magical girls who transformed in a similar way. The leader had pink hair and had a frilly pink outfit. I loved Japanese girls, the sexy -- cute -- innocent look with short skirts sticking out.

And I looked at the Japanese girl bands on the internet, and the girls in the maid cafés. I began to learn to sing in Japanese (of a sort) to join in with the girls on the videos.

It wasn't about sex. I didn't want to have sex with them.

I wanted to be a Japanese girl. Pure and innocent, yet so delicious!

More or less by chance I saw a picture online of a man in a short frilly skirt, and thanking someone called Liz at Tranford for making it.

It was a moment of inspiration! It did not take me long to find a modest website: Tranford Dresses.

There were some pictures and prices of dresses she had made, mainly of pleasant respectable dresses which I guess would be good for trans women wanting to fit in. But there was one in the style of a French maid which reminded me of the Japanese maid cafés, and one which was pink and frilly which reminded me of the pink-haired magical girl.

I was nearly bursting with excitement as I imagined myself. I had to go and have a glass of water; my throat was so dry. Feverishly I looked up pink wigs, and found something about right and not too expensive.

I could hardly sleep that night, and found it difficult to concentrate at work.

I could certainly afford to do it. No-one would see me, but I could for a little while be one of those magical Japanese cuties!

That evening she could see there was something up. Finally, I managed to say it.

"Mama, you know I like Japanese girls?"

Her face brightened.

"Is there someone? An internet friend?"

"No, I mean the comics and videos." Actually, I did have female internet friends, but not romantically.

Her face fell.

"I was thinking I might like to dress up like one in the anime video, for example," I said, all in a rush, and could feel my cheeks burning.

She looked startled, then hopeful.

"You're gay? Why didn't you say so?"

"No, Mum! You know I'm asexual!"

This had always been a gulf between us. Mama could not understand why any adult would not want to have sex, preferably often. (She certainly did.) She had told me that my Dad had been very potent if not well-endowed, I suppose expecting me to be the same. The second part was true, but that was fine by me. I didn't feel the need or in any way deprived of something that did not interest me.

"But you want to dress up like a character in one of your comics? Is there a convention or something?"

"No, just at home," I said, feeling pretty silly. If I could have blushed any more, I would have exploded.

"Well, if you want to, I suppose there's no harm in it. Just don't let Derek see you!"

Derek was the latest 'fancy man' as she called them.

"Thanks, Mama," I said, and rushed off to my computer.

As an unmarried mother and child, we had obviously been poor, but I didn't realise till I was much older and was earning. It was then she apologised to me for wanting to resume her love-life (i.e. sex), but I told her that was fine and I was glad for her. Mostly she went to them, but some came to our flat -- maybe because they were married, I don't know. I genuinely didn't mind, but told Mama in advance when there was a big online event on so that I would be in my room with headphones for the evening, so she could invite someone round. Or she would ask me if I would be busy on a certain evening, and I always said yes. I never deliberately listened, but sometimes I would hear something when I went to the toilet or got a drink, and was always pleased for her.

Derek was one of the ones who came to us for sex, but he socialised over dinner and tried to make friends with me. Divorced, and, as I judged matters, hoping for a woman to do the housework and cook for him as well as the sex. I thought Mama was happy with just the sex part.

I sent an email to Liz at Tranford Dresses, with some pictures to ask if she could make something like that, and how much they would cost.

She emailed back with what she said was a rough estimate, and apologised that it was so much, because she would have to buy materials and it was all handmade. She asked for my measurements before we proceeded.

It was a lot, but I suppose it was only fair. I got Mama to measure me up.

The next evening after dinner, Mama gave me a bag. She had been shopping in her lunch break.

"Best I could do," she said.

It was a frilly pink nightie and some panties with lots of lace!

I hugged and kissed her.

I put it on and she put makeup on me. Then I danced around singing a song from a Japanese girl group.

I was so happy, and Mama was glad to see me. She had tears in her eyes at what she called my innocent pleasure.

CHAPTER 2

Liz emailed me again, thanking me for the measurements. She had other orders so it would take some time. She suggested I should just choose one or two to start, in case I didn't like them. However, she said the French maid costume could be produced to my size fairly quickly as it was a standard and partly pre-cut, and was a lot cheaper. Would I like to try that first?

Mama said it was a good idea, so I ordered it, and we discussed wigs. Eventually we got a simple black straight one which I could put into two bunches, a classic little girl style.

When it came the dress was perfect!

I had not thought about underwear but it came with two pairs of what Mama called culottes, which was very thoughtful. Long cotton shorts with lace on the bottom of the legs. There was a petticoat with lots of ruffles to make the skirt flare out, and the top was padded to give a very small bust, giving a nice overall girl shape, but modest.

There were also white stockings over the knee with a frill. It could be worn with an apron and cap to be a maid or without to be a girl singing in a group.

I served Mama tea as a maid, kneeling down to stir it for her. It was British tea with milk and sugar. I had never got round to oriental teas, and wasn't interested in Geisha tea ceremonies.

I put my wig into two bunches and danced around pretending to be a cute singer. I sang along with some that I knew on videos.

It was easy enough for Mama to get me a skirt, blouse and tie to be a schoolgirl, like some girl groups wear. With difficulty we went to a shop together in my man clothes, and bought some female shoes. Not heels -- with a strap and buckle like a schoolgirl or waitress might wear to be practical.

My trousers came off as soon as I got home. I didn't have much in the way of a beard, so didn't shave every day before. Now I made sure my chin and legs were really smooth. I got Mama to call me Madoka, or sometimes daughter.

I ordered the pink magic girl outfit, and also a schoolgirl outfit with a plaid skirt as the heroine wore before she changed. We ordered the pink wig as well, from an online supplier.

Liz suggested that as it was a special one, I might like to come and have a final fitting in Tranford at the weekend. This would save it being returned for adjustments. They had a spare room where I could stay at no charge. There was the train fare of course.

But the thing which decided me was this. She said it was a place where men could wear dresses, so I could spend some time actually out and people could see me and not be shocked. Mama said if Liz made dresses for men then there were probably a few about and maybe some sort of gay club.

I was a bit hesitant about the idea of a gay club, as I didn't want people getting the wrong idea.

On Saturday morning I got the early train to the city, then a taxi to Liz, which was just a house on a fairly new estate. I had a small bag with overnight things and both my wigs in a separate bag.

I met Liz, who was a nice middle-aged woman, and her friend Hannah, a bit older, but very smart, who helped her with the dress business. They put the wigs on some plastic heads to keep the shape.

The schoolgirl outfit was of course made to match the anime drawing and a picture I had taken from the DVD. I agreed it was near enough and they put it on me. (I was wearing some plain women's cotton knickers from M & S, of course.)

It was much more than the simple outfit we had made at home, especially the top with complicated shoulders and coming down over the top of the skirt, finished off with a bow. There was a sort of vest to wear underneath it, padded to give the impression of a tiny bust, and which slightly pulled my waist in. The skirt was longer than in the cartoon (but then my legs were shorter and my head and eyes not so big!) It didn't have the petticoats like the waitress one, but there was some material underneath which gave me a bit more hips and meant the skirt didn't show my small male bulge.

They were pleased that they could take in the waist a little. The sleeves had been left deliberately too long so that they could be made to my size. Hannah went off to do the necessary stitching, while Liz got me into the magic girl costume.

It was even more complicated than the maid dress, and I could see how much work it must have been. It was much more loosely put together, and she put in some pins, made marks, and did a few stitches by hand before carefully undressing me.

She took it carefully over to her work area, while Hannah dressed me in the school uniform, put on makeup, and fixed the black wig.

"I know the anime schoolgirl has pink hair, but the black one is much more believable," she said.

"I don't believe any posh school would allow it. However, you could really go down the street like this, so I think you should try it this way."

I looked at myself in the mirror and could hardly believe the cheerful schoolgirl I saw!

"What do you think?" said Hannah, turning me to face Liz. "Isn't she cute?"

"Oh yes," said Liz, with a smile, looking up from the sewing machine. "You just wait to see what she looks like in pink!"

"OK, young lady," said Hannah, "time for a walk."

Of course, that is what I had been hoping for, but I was still frightened.

"Where are we going?" I hesitantly asked.

"Just down the street, and we'll get a drop of lunch. You'll be fine."

"Is it some sort of gay bar?" I said, and felt foolish as soon as I said it!

"No," she laughed, "it's just a country pub. We won't go in if you don't want. We'll just come back and I'll make you an omelette."

We went outside. It was just an ordinary street, with no-one about. She took my hand.

I took a big breath and started walking with her. She let go, and I was walking down the road, like a Japanese girl going to school. (Apart from the schoolbag, I thought. I must get one. Liz had a handbag, of course.)

It wasn't far. There was a shop and an old-fashioned pub.

"Keep walking," Hannah whispered as we approached and she sensed my hesitation, then we were through the door. There was a man behind the bar talking to another man standing in front of it, a man and a woman sitting talking with drinks on the left and a waitress serving a meal to a dining area on the right with several people eating or talking. Just ordinary people -- mostly couples.

The waitress came back with her notepad. She was a redhead with a friendly smile. It wasn't a French maid outfit, just a working one, plain skirt and apron, and a top showing a little bit of cleavage.

"Hi, Liz," she said, "Sophie's waiting for you," and a woman at the far end of the dining area waved, so Hannah waved back.

"Excuse me, miss," she said, turning to me. "You're welcome to eat, but we can't serve alcohol to minors."

"She's just joshing you," said Hannah, and the waitress winked.

"Thanks, Ginger," said Hannah.

She ushered me to the table.

"Meet Sophie, Liz's husband. Sophie, this is our Madoka."

"Konnichiwa," said Sophie, holding out her hand, and I answered properly, but she clearly didn't understand. She was a middle-aged woman with a good bust and a nice dress (understandably) but her face, hands and voice were that of a man.

I suddenly relaxed. Obviously, anything goes here. People had glanced up when we came in, as people do, but got back to their food. I later realised that it was a form of good manners they had, not to stare or greet a nervous newcomer until they were introduced. Quite Japanese, in fact.

In a while I forgot how I was dressed, and was just chatting. I had an omelette with salad, as did Hannah, while Sophie had a ploughman's lunch. We both had soft drinks while Sophie had a beer. They told me a little about Tranford. How it had been started by a few couples where one was transgender, who wanted to live a normal quiet life, but was open to all, just so long as they were tolerant of some non-traditional gender behaviour -- same-sex couples or crossdressing for example. People were accepted as male, female, neither or both, whatever they wished.

I talked a little about myself. They didn't ask how or why I came to be dressed as a Japanese schoolgirl, which I again appreciated. Apart from that, there was little to tell. Sophie told me she was a nurse, and had a grown-up daughter, but the fact that she was wearing a dress and had a bust was not something you would ask a woman, so there was no need to mention it.

I loved the good manners and respect!

When Ginger came to take the plates away, she asked if I wanted a picture taken on my phone. So she took several of me with my friends, by myself in the pub and outside, which I sent to Mama. She didn't respond. I expect she and Derek were making good use of my absence.

Liz wasn't expected to come for lunch, so they walked me back, pointing out things like the community centre and some houses, flats and what they said were business units.

"From what you say, you might get a job here," Sophie remarked. "You could stay with us, if you like. Liz loves having a young person in the house. Or maybe you and your mother could share a flat."

They carried on talking, but I wasn't listening. What they were saying was that I could be a Japanese girl every day! All the time! It took my breath away to think about it.

But there was Derek, of course. Maybe she could move in with him and I could come here on my own. I had plenty of friends online, and both Liz and Hannah were older women like Mama, if I needed guidance. Could it really be?

CHAPTER 3

Back at Liz's house, she had finished the dress, which was on some sort of stand, and already looked good.

"Liz, I'm going to make you a sandwich," said Hannah. "And Sophie, you're to make sure she eats it!"

She went into the kitchen, and Liz looked over my current outfit inch by inch now I had worn it a bit. She seemed slightly disappointed that there was nothing to be fixed. Then my wig was changed for the pink one.

Honestly it wasn't plausible, so she took it off.

Then the schoolgirl outfit was put on the hanger and the magic pink one was carefully assembled on me. They turned their backs while I put on a new pair of culottes. The same socks and shoes were OK for the moment.

It was obviously planned because Sophie stood in front of the mirror so that I couldn't see. Once everything was in place and had been tweaked, patted, pulled and every seam minutely inspected, Hannah gave Liz a sandwich and a drink while she took over, fitting and adjusting the pink wig, and changing my makeup somehow.

Then at last, they let me look. If myself as a schoolgirl had been great, this was wonderful. In the mirror was the magical girl all in pink! The actual character!

Sophie was the first to speak.

"Well, I think you look fabulous!" she said. "It's absolutely you!"

"I've never seen better," said Hannah.

"You know what?" said Liz. "I'm not going to make that dress for anyone else. I wouldn't like to see it on anyone less perfect than you."

I walked around, suddenly lighter, totally feminine, yet powerful. I was almost floating.

I had sufficient presence of mind to get Liz to take some pictures of me on my phone, and sent them to Mama. We texted for a bit. Obviously she said it was wonderful and I said I was happy, but not much else in a long conversation.

"Now," said Liz. "Time to be practical. I want you to go up and down stairs a couple of times." I did as she looked up at me, presumably to see what showed.

"Now sitting down."

She showed me how to lift the skirts a little to sit on the sofa, but just stay forward on the edge.

"Don't think for a moment about sitting in an armchair. Show me how you can perch prettily on the arm."

I did.

"It's pretty resilient, but it's for show, not every day. The overskirt is removable with some poppers and can be given a cool wash. But obviously try to avoid getting food and drink on it."

"The French maid is more practical, as are others, but there have been some limitations, as I have had to copy a cartoon."

"But it is lovely," interjected Hannah.

"Wonderful," added Sophie. "The best you've ever made, love," she added.

I was bursting with happiness, but Liz needed to move on.

"Right. Go and practise the toilet. See if you can get your knickers off and hold your skirt up. I suggest you face towards the wall to see if that's easier for a pee. For a poo, you'll obviously need to sit in the regular way. If you can't manage it, or think you'll make a mess, better to find out now rather than at the party. If you can't manage by yourself, then you might have to take it off."

It wasn't as difficult as she feared. I was relieved both mentally and physically.

I came back down with the good news.

Hannah patted Liz on the back.

"You underestimate yourself, my dear," she told her.

"It was your know-how that did it," Liz replied.

"What party?" I asked.

Sophie stepped in.

"We couldn't let a wonderful dress like this leave, without more people getting the chance to see it, so there's some drinks and a few nibbles in the community centre tonight. You said you were staying over, didn't you?"

"You probably won't go out in it when you get home," added Hannah. "Tranford is the one place you really can. Anyway, I want you to meet my Bernie."

"OK," said Liz. "Now I want you to take it off, clean up your face, and put on your street clothes for the next few hours, then see how you can get dressed yourself, so you can manage when you get home."

It was a sensible idea. Sophie went away. It was awkward by myself but I took it apart and put the bits on the hanger, then went to clean my face. I came down and went to put on my jeans.

"What are you doing?" said Liz.

"Getting dressed in my street clothes," I said, a bit puzzled.

"Those aren't your street clothes," she said, "these are," holding up the schoolgirl outfit.