I thought I had posted this ages ago but realised I'd only half written it. I have finished it and offer it for your entertainment - oh, no you don't, oh yes I do. Probably worth re-reading Principal Boy first, it will make more sense.
https://bigclosetr.us/topshelf/fiction/33816/principal-boy
Principal Boy 2.
by
Angharad.
Brad had been whisked into one of the changing rooms while still in a daze from Sally’s kisses. Before he knew it, he was naked and Maggie was pulling the thong up his almost hairless legs. “Good job the tights are opaque ones—you’d better shave your legs when you get home laddie.”
“What?” said Brad coming out of his trance—“What are you doing?” Just then Maggie shoved his dangly bits back between his legs and pulled up the thong to hold them in place. He squealed and she sniggered. His bum was quite rounded for a boy albeit narrow hipped, but it wouldn’t show too much with the tunic that Dick was to wear as it flared at the hips.
He surrendered to her as she adjusted the bra straps. “Is your teacher coming to watch the panto?” she asked him.
“Oh God, yes she will—what will she think of me—some sort of weirdo?”
“No, she’ll see the generous and courageous young man who stepped into the breach to save the show. She’ll also be able to give you marks for performing.”
“Oh geez, I’ll be awful—I’ve never done this before—I’m terrified.”
“By the time we’ve finished, even your own family won’t recognise you.”
“I hope not, Jack’s coming tonight with his girlfriend. Oh why did I agree to this?”
“I told you, because you’re a real trouper.”
He stood and shook his head while she padded out the bra with two bits of stocking containing birdseed. Then came the tights and he had to sit down for her to pull them over each foot.
“I hope you’re watching all this, you’ll have to do it tomorrow by yourself.”
“What?”
“Oh c’mon, Brad, you’ve helped enough people to dress to know what it’s all about.” She handed him the blouse which he slipped on and buttoned up. Then came the tunic, which was like a mini-dress showing lots of his quite shapely legs.
Joan, the makeup lady bustled in and pulled an Alice band over his hair and began to do his makeup. He sat quite quietly until she glued false eyelashes to his eyelids. “What are you doing?”
“Making you into a glamorous young woman, why?”
“I feel like a drag queen, don’t these things feel heavy on your eyes?”
“No darling, the drag queen is the Dame, you are definitely the glamour puss.”
“The cat is the puss, Joan.”
“Oh very droll, what are you going to call yourself?”
“I hadn’t thought of that, waddya think I should do, call myself something silly.”
“Certainly not, you are going to look adorable, so how about something adorable in the name stakes.”
“Like what?”
“Um—let’s see, what d’you think, Maggie, is she a Brandy?”
“Brandy—ugh no, how about Brandon Chalmers?”
“Oh yes, sounds good.”
“Chalmers not charmer or even Princess Charming?” Maggie chuckled to herself. They used a spirit gum to hold the blonde wig in place and tied it back in a low ponytail. Maggie helped pull up the high heeled boots which came well up to his thighs.
“I’ll never be able to walk in these,” he grumbled.
“Yes you will, you just need some practice.”
“I feel a complete prat in all this, look at me—I look like a fre—” he never finished the sentence because he caught sight of himself in the mirror. He looked remarkably like a girl in stage makeup. “Oh, crikey, is that me?”
“Yes, Brandon, it is—still think your brother will recognise you?”
“Brandon? Oh, yeah—forgot. Dunno if he’ll recognise me, not sure I do.”
“Right, pretty as you are, girl, you have to master those heels...” Maggie and Joan had him walking with some confidence and swinging his bum enough to excite any male under the age of ninety. In fact he almost walked like it without any tuition, which he claimed the heels caused him to do. Maggie wasn’t convinced but said nothing. He could even stand on one leg and slap his thigh in best principal boy tradition, yep, if no one twigged in the audience, they could play it straight.
Martin the director knocked and entered the changing room. “Jesus—is that Brad?”
“No it isn’t,” corrected Maggie, “allow me to introduce you to Brandon Chalmers, your new principal boy.”
“Wow, Brandon is it? Okay—I’ll make an announcement before curtain up about our difficulties and how you’ve stepped in to save the day.”
“I am so frightened,” squeaked Brad.
“Goodness, you sound just like a girl—this is gonna work, Brandon—you look stunning—this is gonna work.”
“If Sally has finished dressing, could she just run through one or two scenes with me?”
“My dear girl, of course she can, I’ll ask her to come in.”
Brad was gob-smacked at being addressed as a girl and under all the makeup he blushed which made him seem even more girlish. Martin left and moments later Sally came in.
“Oh my God, where’s Brad? Who is this beautiful woman—I feel rather plain by comparison—perhaps I should have done the principal boy and you should do the principal girl?”
“Very funny, Sally,” Brad blushed at her. All he wanted was another of her kisses but she wasn’t quite sure what she felt, except she couldn’t see any sign of the gauche teenager she’d kissed into submission a hour or so before.
“Sally, might I introduce you to our new principal boy, Brandon Chalmers,” offered Maggie breaking the uneasy silence which had developed.
“Pleased to meet you, kind sir,” she lifted her skirts and performed a perfect curtsey.
Brad reached for her hand and kissed it, “The pleasure is all mine, Miss.” He noticed he’d left a lipstick mark on her hand.
“What have you done to your voice?” gasped Sally, “You sound like—like Josie.”
“Do I?” Brad wasn’t quite sure what he’d done—maybe it was the tight knickers which were making their way up his bum crack making him very aware every time he moved.
They went on stage together and while Martin watched and offered gentle criticism, they did one or two scenes.
“So where’s our stand in hero, then?” asked George Golding, who was the dame. He staggered in on ridiculous shoes and striped stockings with a bust line something akin to the prow of a battleship. His wig and makeup looked ridiculous and left even a blind man in no doubt this was a man in women’s clothing.
“This is Brandon Chalmers, George,” said Martin.
“What happened to Brad?” asked George.
“He’s around somewhere, Brandon’s come over from Goatsby to save the day, haven’t you, girl?”
“I thought Brad was going to do it.” George scratched his huge chest, “This bloody thing itches like hell—I don’t suppose you have that trouble do you, Brandon—wasn’t it?”
“No I don’t, and yes it is.”
“Oh no it isn’t,” said George loudly.
“Oh yes it is,” replied Brad as loudly as he felt it was necessary to speak.
“You really are a girl, aren’t you—no boy I know talks like that?”
“Is that a problem, George?” asked Sally, unsure if carrying the deceit into the cast was a good idea.
“No, not at all—in fact...”
“In fact?” queried Martin.
“In fact, I’m glad. I mean these poofy pop stars playing the principal boy is making a mockery of panto.”
“Quite,” agreed Martin winking at Brad who blushed again.
“So how come you know the script?” asked George.
“Brandon helped me rehearse at home,” said Sally quickly, "So she’s played most of the characters."
“Oh, just as well she can’t play me then, just think of it—a woman playing a panto dame—the public would never get over it—we’d be laughed off the stage.”
“I thought that was the object of panto, George?” said Martin drily.
“Yeah, well there’s being laughed off and being laughed off,” said George defensively.
“I promise I won’t steal your role, George,” said Brad, “besides, I don’t think I could fill your shoes let alone walk in them.”
“Such a sweet girl,” mumbled George walking back to have his cuppa. Once he’d gone the three conspirators laughed.
“We can’t keep this up, they all know it’s me,” said Brad.
“Actually, they don’t. All they know is you spoke with me—I’ve a good mind to tell them I sent you to get you, so to speak.”
“They won’t believe you, and what happens when I don’t turn up tomorrow, or I do and then...”
“You’ll have to stay dressed as a girl for the rest of the week,” said Martin.
“Don’t be silly, Mart, how am I supposed to do that?”
“You can stop at my place,” Sally suggested, "I’ve got some spare clothes in the car."
“So what do I tell my mother?”
“You’re staying with me.”
“She’ll wonder why?”
“I’ll give her a quick call.”
“Can’t you tell her you ran off to join a circus or better still a Trappist monastery.”
“Eh?” asked Brad.
“They take a vow of silence.” Martin smirked at his own joke.
“We’ll have to tell her and ask her to keep...”
“Mum,” supplied Martin, smirking even more.
“Yeah, well,” Brad forgot what he was going to say.
“Will she be able to keep quiet about it?” Sally wasn’t as convinced.
“I ‘spect so, she’s pretty good with secrets,” Brad said quietly.
“Oh, are you a woman of mystery then?” Sally chuckled and Brad blushed.
He was so easy to make blush, she teased him in a friendly way after all he was going to save the panto and all of their blushes. They ran through a few more scenes and Brad was able to recall his lines and most of the motions, Martin decided that he could do it, even if he had to ad lib, it was a pantomime and as long as the other players were aware and could respond without the whole thing becoming a farce, except where they had planned it be so. Besides farce is a different form on theatre and usually requires someone to lose their trousers during it, in a pretend sexual way but being British it never proceeds beyond pretence (I mean how can you kiss someone with a stiff upper lip?).
Most of the other cast members didn't know it was Brad who was saving their panto because they didn't think the small, shy youth would have the bottle to do it, to step up to the breach. They didn't see through his disguise, and he had suddenly produced this very feminine voice when Martin asked him to project, or their project would fail. Brad couldn't believe he'd agreed to do this for more kisses from Sally, but he had, he felt, an empathy with Marc Antony, who had paid for his relationship with Cleopatra.
The hall started filling and Brad was distracted by Sally who kept him talking and becoming comfortable in the thigh high, high heeled boots. He found he could easily balance on one leg and slap his thigh when the script had called for it. Before he knew it they were standing behind the curtain before it was opened and they were into their performance. For a few minutes he was surprised and then his mind focused on his lines and necessary movements. He hadn't really learned his marks but he was able improvise and wasn't too far from the originals, if necessary, they could work on that tomorrow before the show, but it began to look as if Brad had things covered and he fitted in with the cast better than he thought.
The performance was a success and the audience loved it, Both Brad and Sally were presented with bouquets and Brad received extra curtain calls when it was explained that he had stepped into the vacancy to play principal boy at very short notice. Everyone seemed happy, Jack, Brad's little brother didn't recognize him and he left shortly afterwards with his girl friend. Martin had decided to keep Brad away from the rest of the cast and audience to protect his identity, so he was holed up with Sally in the 'stars' dressing room. He wanted more kisses but she wanted him to change into her spare clothes, then they could leave to go to her flat and may be Brad could collect on his 'earnings'.
They had a very happy evening, except if she had desired it, Brad couldn't have risen to the occasion, but they were happy to kiss and cuddle. Brad spent the rest of the week dressed as a girl and his performances on stage and real life became much stronger. Martin scrapped doing a review of the blocks they had on the stage marked in tapes of different colours, as Brad's acting and moves were fine and Martin didn't want to push Brad too hard, he was after all doing her best.
There were demands from the public to extend the run and at a cast meeting Brad wasn't sure whether to support the extension or not. He was worried that his staying with Sally was an issue, and while he liked it, he didn't want her to discover his erectile dysfunction caused by his earlier mumps and his sensitivity to all his less than macho body. He needed to see his doctor but felt so embarrassed by it, he just kept procrastinating. He also felt Sally would get bored with him after a while, and while Martin had given him a grant to buy some extra women's clothes, so he didn't always have to wear Sally's, he was becoming a little bored with them.
On the final Saturday, they had a matinee and evening show, he'd got to polish his pretence so well in interacting with the cast and Martin that he was shocked when James asked him if he could please think about taking part in the play they were considering, which had several prominent female parts, and James was sure Brad would be very good in without realising he was actually talking to Brad about, Sally who agreed to read the play thought that would be a super idea and Martin thought it was also a good idea.
Brad took Martin to the little back room and said to him, "Are you trying to keep me in skirts?"
"What do mean?"
"This new play they are discussing, have you forgotten I'm a boy?"
"No, I haven't forgotten and I'm very grateful that you saved the day, but I've also noticed that Brad was a shy little mouse of a person and now you seem to have developed much more confidence, your teacher is thrilled by your performance and is coming back tonight because I told her you just get better and better."
"No pressure then?"
Absolutely not, just be yourself or this actress you have created and you'll be fine and impress her plenty. This new you is so much more a complete person than you used to be, hence the play offer. I think you'd make a good job of it."
"And when the others find out that I'm not a girl?"
"I don't think it's that important, remember the theatre is quite broad minded when it comes to these things and if we change your new name to Brandy or even Brenda no one will care."
"But I don't think I can bea girl for the next umpteen months."
"Why not? You done fine for the last two weeks?" They never got to discuss it because they were called to the stage for the final performance of Dick Whittington the pantomime when Brad excelled herself? once again. He knew that the cast would pressure him to act in the new play and he began to wonder if he could do it and the living as woman for several months. If the last two weeks were any indication, he'd quite enjoyed it and so had Sally and he was under no pressure to be masculine, something which made life easier. He'd talk with Sally later and perhaps his mum too. Perhaps it was something he could do, she could do, or should do.
Comments and kudos are the only reward to writers here, please use them