Chapter 6

Hugh stood outside Nordstrom's. He looked at it. It was big ... and full of women's clothing.

"OK, let's go." He bravely started towards the door, but stopped and turned around, pretending to whistle. "This is ridiculous, let's just do it," he told himself. It was worse than the time he had tried bungee jumping. At least there, it was pretty much out of your hands - just strap yourself in and jump.

"So here goes," he thought again, "I'll just strap myself in..." a curious metaphor considering what he was about to be strapped into, " ... and jump!" He pushed open the door and headed towards the information counter, which directed him to shopper services.

"Hi, my name's Francis N. Way, but everyone just calls me Fenway. My goodness, it looks like you've come to the right place. And what's your name?"

"Hi, uh, Fenway. I'm Erin. Actually, I've just come for a business suit..."

"Nonsense Erin, anyone with a figure like yours who comes to this store with jeans and a loose shirt should realize that it is a crime against nature and art to be dressed like that. Let's get started."

After a quick measurement, Fenway took Hugh on a complete tour of the store. As they went through each department, Fenway kept up a constant running interview, asking Hugh questions about his likes and dislikes, colors, fashions, where he was from, what he had worn in the past, how he had got to this awful state of dress.

Hugh did his best, running after Fenway, he tried to answer as many questions using Erin's past as he could, but inevitably wove in a good deal of his own background. He explained that he had found a new boyfriend, and that this boyfriend was paying for the shopping spree. She showed her a blank check that he had signed ahead of time, and some credit cards for verification.

"Oh, don't worry about that, dear. We get wayward darlings here all the time. My recommendation is that you take a deep breath and enjoy it." Fenway snatched a blouse from the rack and held it against Hugh.

"Definitely cream with that red hair."

At this point, Fenway was snatching clothes off racks left and right and soon they both were holding armfuls of clothing. Hugh had seen every single department: casual, suits, sports, eveningwear, formal wear, coordinates, business wear, sleepwear, and lingerie. It was exhausting!

Fenway stopped one last time. "I hate to ask. I notice you're wearing a man's shirt. Are you wearing men's underwear, too?"

Hugh blushed beet red, and looked down at the floor.

"Oh my goodness." Fenway couldn't help but smile. "Well, these are on the house. And we'll also be needing these, these ... and these, and your bra size?"

Hugh knew this. He had looked it up on Erin's bra. "34C"

" ... and a pair of these, and let's try these on, just for fun, OK?"

They arrived at the dressing rooms where Fenway hung everything up. "Now dear, we need to get serious. What is your upper limit? Should I try and maintain a budget?"

Hugh thought about it. It's my money, he realized, I can spend it however I want. And it's not like I'm doing this solely for myself, it's really a present to Erin, for when we switch back. Hugh thought back to Fenway's comment about it being "a crime against Nature and Art." He couldn't have agreed more, since Erin's body, of which he was the current custodian, was a masterpiece and he was sure it would look exquisite in the right clothes.

Hugh came to a decision. He looked up at Fenway and grinned. "Sky's the limit."

"Good girl!"

And so Hugh tried on every single piece of clothing they picked out, for over four hours. Each time, Fenway would analyze, using subtle suggestions to teach Hugh about color coordination, patterns, figures, and fashions. He discovered that absolutely anything could be fashionable and look good, as long as it was worn at the right time with the right accessories. Hugh had always fancied himself a connoisseur of the fine arts and art history, and he found concepts from art interwoven with fashion in ways that he had never before imagined. For example, the way that a look has a goal, or an emotion, or an atmosphere, and the way that all components contribute to the look, and how things that he would have never worn in a million years could look just right together.

Each time he came out with a new ensemble, Fenway would come back with more to try on.

"How do you do it, Fenway? I'm exhausted just watching you!"

"Comfortable shoes."

Each time Hugh stepped out of the dressing room, Erin's body, his body, at least temporarily, looked better and better. Fenway was getting closer and closer to finding Erin's ideal colors, fit, and styles.

"I can sure tell that you grew up on the farm. Look at this skin!" Hugh looked down. He was dressed in just a silk bra and panties. He had gotten over his embarrassment of being naked in front of Fenway hours ago. "It's radiant. And you really don't know how to do your hair up? Too busy shearing sheep?"

Fenway spent a second showing Hugh how he could pull his hair into a business-like bun. "It can look prudish, or it can look sharp. It all depends on how you finish it off. Here, let me show you." As she worked Hugh's hair, she continued, "and some go all the way with a pair of non-prescription glasses, just for the looks. Normally, I would consider it a sin to hide those stunning green eyes, but your face is so arresting that it might be a good idea."

Hugh was in heaven. Janice from the Bagel place had been absolutely correct, Hugh liked feminine things. His delight, which increased beyond measure as he tried on each ensemble, proved it beyond a doubt. Unlike shopping as a man, he found he wasn't tired at all, but fantastically energized. And Fenway was wonderful, with just the right combination of critical eye, honest suggestion, gentle cajoling, and appreciation of beauty.

And as Hugh watched his reflection in the mirror, he saw aspects of Erin's body revealed that, at times, nearly took his breath away, and at other times, caused him to dissolve into giggles of delight. Like the curve of a bare neck or shoulder, an ear highlighted with just the right earring, a pair of pert eyebrows peaking up over her business glasses, an incredible waist, and astonishingly long legs. But he saw something else which he couldn't quite place a finger on. Something about Erin that he noticed as he tried on each ensemble, starting with casual knits, sweaters, light skirts, cool summer dresses, shocking halter tops with bare midriffs, one-piece dresses for casual affairs, sharp business suits, other, more casual, business clothes, more formal dresses, and finally a stunning and expensive evening gown for a formal night out.

Near the end of the day, Fenway pulled out a dress and gave it to Hugh, who nearly fainted when he saw the price tag: $1,800 dollars.

Fenway looked down at her gasping customer. "It's a lot, I know. But this is it. This is the dress that goes beyond just displaying your best assets - of which there are many, I might add. This is the dress which defines you as a woman."

Hugh had to agree. He didn't know exactly when he (or Erin) would be able to wear it, but he had to have it.

And last came the bill: $7,200 dollars. And that didn't include the $400 he spent on shoes.

The bedroom looked like it had been worked over by the FBI. Clothes were everywhere, draped over everything. Erin walked in and just stood there, dumbstruck.

"What's happened here?"

Hugh jumped up, surprised. "Oh! Hi Erin ... Ummm, how was your day?"

Hugh had been trying on different combinations of skirts and blouses trying to decide what went with what. He had made a whole cross-reference chart.

Erin just stood there, agape. "Hugh?"

"Well, I guess I went a little overboard. I had such a good time! You wouldn't believe it! Oh, Erin, I wish you had been there! Here, let me show you..."

Hugh went though each and every sweater, blouse, jacket, skirt, suit, and accessory. He actually tried on most of the outfits and modeled them, runway style, for Erin, who applauded and praised Hugh as much as she could.

Erin was astonished. "Hugh, when I suggested that you go and shop for some clothes, I never thought..."

"Oh I know, but Fen was so incredibly helpful..."

"Fen?"

"Oh, my personal shopper! But wait until you see this formal gown I bought, it's out being tailored, but when you see it you'll just die!"

Hugh stopped and saw Erin looking away.

"Erin? Are you OK?"

"I'm fine."

Hugh sat down on the bed next to Erin and hugged her. She was crying.

"Shhhhh, baby. What's the matter?"

"Oh Hugh!" Erin sobbed, "I want to shop for clothes! I want to have my own personal shopper!"

"Oh, sweetie, you can! She assists men too! Just set up an appointment and get a spiffy new suit, or a new tuxedo, or something."

Erin sniffed, "It's not the same."

Hugh hugged her, "I know. But maybe it will be close enough. Have you enjoyed being a man?"

Erin looked at him, through her sniffles. "I guess so, I mean, everyone treats me so well, I like working on contracts and stuff, and everyone seems interested in my opinion..."

Hugh reached down. "And do you like this?" he started manipulating Erin's penis, gently squeezing it.

"Oh, I really like that."

"Really? Better than when you were a female?"

"It's different. They're both good, but in different ways."

"How about this?" Hugh unzipped the pants and reached in to stroke more seriously, through the cotton briefs.

"Mmmmm," Erin's tears had stopped and she reached forward and started to unbutton Hugh's new silk blouse.