“Nervous?” she asked, driving us to her mother’s house.
“No. Why would I be?”
“Well, meeting the parents and family is always a big deal in a relationship. I’m nervous about meeting yours.”
“I understand, but my parents, brother and sister know all about you, Cindy. Except for one thing, which is something we’ll tell them together.”
She kept hold of my hand the rest of the way to her old house. It was your typical house in the suburbs, the place where she’d grown up her entire life. Walking hand in hand towards the front door, it opened before we could even knock on it. Her mother grinned, taking Cindy in her arms, giving her daughter one hell of a bear hug. “So good to see you again, gorgeous.”
“Hello, Mum,” Cindy whispered. I left them to hug each other before they let each other go. “Mum, this is Mark. Mark, this is my mother, Laura.”
I was expecting a friendly handshake. Instead, I was dragged in by a woman standing no more than five-five and wrapped in a bear hug, just like her daughter. Her mother was blonde, though I was left thinking the colour was from a bottle, with the same pair of blue eyes as her daughter. I didn’t check her out otherwise, but Cindy told me her mother was nearly fifty. “I finally meet the man who has put that smile on my daughter’s face! It’s lovely to meet you!”
“Well, it’s nice to meet you too, Laura,” I replied, hugging her back.
Giving her a big squeeze, she laughed. “Oooh, he’s a strong one too, Cindy.”
“Can certainly throw me around when doing certain things, Mum.”
Laura let me go and playfully slapped Cindy’s arm. “Behave yourself. Come in, come in. Your sister’s in the backyard.”
Following Laura and Cindy through the house, we walked through a sliding door out onto some wooden decking, an in-ground pool taking up most of the backyard otherwise. Her sister was sat at a picnic table by herself, standing and giving Cindy a hug before I was introduced. “This is my older sister, Stephanie,” Cindy said. Stephanie was almost a replica of Cindy, actually looking between the two in silence for a few seconds, before Stephanie gave me a hug.
“Nice to finally meet you, Mark. Cindy talks about you all the time.”
“Good things, I hope?”
Stephanie stepped back. “Well, Mum and I were going to interrogate you about everything, but we’ve realised that would be pointless. It’s easy to see how much you two love each other.”
Lunch was a simple affair, something I preferred as it meant her mother could relax and join in with the conversation. Though there were many questions aimed at me regarding my employment, family, history, nothing I didn’t expect, I was able to ask many of my own questions, particularly when it came to Cindy and her transition. That’s when we ended up back inside, her mother grabbing a photo album that charted her progress.
“I knew Cindy was a girl from… a very young age. But it was Stephanie who figured out first, probably before Cindy herself. We bought Cindy her first dress of her own at ten, but she was already wearing Steph’s old clothes before that. I’m sure that would horrify plenty of people who don’t understand, but she was my little girl and I wasn’t going to deny her what she was already thinking and feeling.”
“I assume it made things difficult at places like school?”
“Of course. She had to remain registered as a boy while at primary school, but after therapy, child psychologists and even going to court, by the time she started high school, she was accepted as a girl. Changed her name and everything.”
“Why Cindy?” I asked her, “I’ll admit, that has been on my mind.”
She cuddled into me. “Cinderella. I obviously couldn’t call myself that, so I went with Cindy. I knew I wanted my Prince Charming. I’ve now got him too.”
“What was high school like?” I wondered.
“Sucked most of the time,” Cindy muttered.
Stephanie took her hand as Laura added. “It was difficult. She was transitioning and kids at that age simply don’t understand. Of course, many still considered her a boy, so she was called plenty of derogatory names. I can almost understand the attitude of boys. They’re still growing up themselves and it’s not something they’d see nor understand. The school did their best but… there’s only so much even they could do to support. Some of the girls, though, they were marvellous. She was taken under their wing by quite a few. Cindy was always small anyway, so she fit in with them. They would swap dresses and clothing, make-up tips, even underwear, all the things young women do when growing up.” Laura flicked through the photos and you could see Cindy growing older and more confident in her appearance.
Then it stopped at a photo which looked like prom. Cindy wore a gorgeous red gown, surrounded by half a dozen other girls. “This was their Year Twelve Graduation Party. Cindy and her friends stole the show. She’s cut her hair since, but she’d spent nearly two years growing it by then.”
“Looks fantastic!” That earned a kiss on the cheek. Laura then flicked to a photo of Cindy standing in the back garden. She was eighteen and… utterly gorgeous. I mean just beautiful. “Wow,” I whispered.
“My daughter blossomed,” Laura said softly, “Such a shame about her father.”
“She’s mentioned he’s… not accepted her.”
Stephanie scowled. Laura shook her head. “He’s an idiot. He thought it was just a phase, despite the fact Cindy took hormones and was living full-time as a girl while she was at high school. Insisted on calling her by her ‘dead name’. It upset her all the time. Led to some furious arguments between me and my husband. ‘I have a son and daughter, not two daughters’, he insisted, ‘Even if he undergoes surgery, he’s a he.’ When she was sixteen, they were arguing and he called her a faggot and told her to go hang. I kicked him out immediately. Cindy was in constant therapy for a year because of it.”
Cindy cuddled into me tighter and I heard the small sob. “Sorry, sweetheart,” I whispered, hugging her tightly to me, little surprise she ended up straddling my lap, wanting nothing more than a cuddle at that moment. I glanced to see Stephanie and Laura both looking on approvingly. “I love her more than anything,” I said, “And god forbid anyone hurt her.”
They shared a glance. “I like him,” they said in unison.
“Mark, Cindy attended university but she’s obviously had surgery that is expensive. Has she told you how she made the money?”
“I haven’t told him yet,” Cindy whispered.
“Is it any of my business?” I asked, “I mean, it’s before we met. The only thing that might be off-putting would be… er…”
“No, nothing like that,” Cindy said, feeling her sit up. She took a deep breath. “Ever seen cam girls online?”
“Not really but I know what they are. You were a cam girl?”
“For three years, from eighteen to twenty.”
I glanced at mother and sister, both of them nodding. “We knew,” Laura said, “I approved, as long as she was safe and kept her anonymity. It was a good way for her to make money so she could get the things she wanted done.”
“I actually watched her once,” Stephanie admitted, “She put on some very sexy shows.”
Cindy giggled, blushing brightly. “I never showed my full face, Mark. I wore something that covered my mouth and nose, but they could see my eyes and the rest of my body. I never performed with anyone else, it was just me all the time. I… masturbated, of course, sometimes using toys. But I made so much money, Mark. Guys would pay so much to see me cum. I wasn’t really interested in dirty talk, and certainly wasn’t interested in watching them jerk off, but… you do what you need to. But all that work meant I could afford my boob job, had my nose done, and other rough edges around my face and body. I mean, I was already rather feminine anyway but I wanted certain masculine features softened or eliminated entirely.”
I took a minute or so to go over what she just told me. “Keep any of your old shows?”
She almost starting crying again. “You really don’t mind?”
“It was before you met me. You kept your identity to yourself, so at least we won’t have random strangers staring at you thinking ‘Do I know her from somewhere?’ I’d find that a little awkward. You were not having sex on camera. I’m honestly not sure how I’d actually feel about that.”
“I never did that,” she whispered, “Mark, before you, I rarely had sex with men. The only time I ever felt safe, and even moderately loved, was during those few times I fooled around with my girlfriends. My friends from school were not interested. I was a girl, not a boy. I’m not particularly interested in women anyway. I’m a woman who loves men.”
I kissed her cheek. “Well, another viewpoint is to look at the internet nowadays. Thousands upon thousands of women, whether genetic or trans, are making money through all sort of phone apps and websites.” I ran my hands up her body and to her face. “And it helped you make money so you could become the woman you wanted.”
“Marry him, Cindy. Marry. Him!” Stephanie exclaimed, laughing away.
“How are you always this understanding?” Cindy wondered, cuddling into me, “I wish I met you so long ago.”