The Right Fit

This is in a submission to the 750 Word Event for 2025. The text appearing after this foreword / the titles and before 'the end' is exactly 750 words long.

This vignette is part of my own picture prompt sub-challenge.

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The Right Fit

by Emily Miller

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This was weird. I mean I wanted it. Most of it felt right, felt like what I should have been doing all my life. But still... yeah, weird was the word.

I'd been standing outside the store for a while now. Checking my watch, I really should go in. I'd looked at window displays like this one so many times before, and thought, 'if only.' Now... now I could make it real. Why was I hesitating?

I knew the answer. Fear. Fear was something I was used to by now. Fear of physical danger, that was all too real sometimes. Fear of verbal abuse, that was almost daily. But neither of those things were it today. It was another fear. A fear of not being able to pass. Or even of being laughed at. What was I thinking making an appointment?

I was about to turn on my heels and leave when the door opened and a woman's face appeared. "Miss Harris? It is Miss Harris, right?"

She was bespectacled and looked at me over them, adding an even more quizzical aspect to her inquiry.

"Um... yeah." I cleared my throat, thinking that my register was a little low. "But... you can call me Eloise."

The woman smiled. It was a reassuring smile. I judged her to be around my own age, maybe a little younger, she was also smaller. "We have an appointment, yes?"

I nodded.

"Well come in," she continued, "I'm Daisy. I know, what were my parents thinking?"

She sounded so upbeat, that I found myself following her without even thinking about it. But one thing did make me think. The sight of her pencil skirt-clad derrière sashaying in front of me as she teetered on her black stilettos. She provoked both desire and jealousy in me.

Another woman was sitting behind a counter toward the rear. Daisy waved at her. "I'll be out back with... Eloise... right?" She turned to confirm the name, and I nodded.

Daisy pulled back a drape and ushered me into a changing room. It was well-appointed, and spacious. If it wasn't for the long row of shelves, filled with cardboard boxes, it might have done service as the lobby of a boutique hotel.

Spinning in a way I thought both elegant and delightful, she faced me. "Alone at last. Please take a seat and we can talk about what you are looking for."

I sat, we chatted. I found myself opening up to Daisy, sharing my fantasies, what I wanted to look like. She was just so easy to talk to. When we had finished, she put a hand on my knee and said, with a smile, "Let me see what I can find."

I watched her dainty frame move along the shelves, climbing a step ladder, and going on tiptoe to reach the top twice. She returned balancing a tower of boxes.

Placing them on the floor, she selected three, and handed them to me, saying, "Start with these, they should be in your size."

There were three cubicles, each with the same drapes as the room door. Daisy pulled back one and waved me in.

I undressed, looking at myself critically. I visualized Daisy's petite, adorable body, and thought I was a fool to be doing this. But I was here, so I started with the panties. They were beautiful, filigree lace in a fetching peach. I stepped into them and eased them over my hips. And then a problem, my normal problem. I sighed.

The drape twitched and a bespectacled face appeared around it, much as it had done earlier with the store door. "Just wanted to see if you needed any help."

I wrapped an arm across my chest, and put another between my legs, feeling suddenly nauseated. Feeling embarrassed. Feeling that Daisy would be revolted by me.

Instead, she spoke in an entirely practical voice. "Ah! The perennial problem. I wasn't sure where you were in transition. I've got some alternatives in a different cut. Let me get them."

Her head disappeared and then she was back, holding two other panties. "Try these, I used to find ones like these easier, before I... well... took the plunge. Or rather had gender-affirming surgery."

I was doing a passable impression of a goldfish. Daisy grinned at me. "You didn't realize? That's really cool!"

I stuttered a reply. "But... but... you're so... feminine."

"That's kinda the point, Eloise." She sounded serious now. "I'm a woman. Women are often feminine."

THE END

Endnotes

As an author, I wanted to keep this light and sweet. As an ally, I wanted to make it respectful. Thank you to ShelbyDawn57 for helping me to balance these.