"I'm alright with Irish." You say. "It's as good as any other option."
Rachel squeed and hugged you. "This is gonna be so great! Meet me after school, we'll go to my place!"
You went through the rest of your day, called your parents to tell them you'd be home late and miss supper, and met her after school. Her mom picked you both up in a fancy car. You got the feeling the family had a lot of money, the more so when you saw their large house. Rachel caught you staring.
"Mom is a very skilled therapist, in high demand."
"Oh."
Inside she kicks off her shoes, runs to the fridge for some soda and snacks and leads you up to her room. It is forest green, with a couple of band posters, and a huge bed.
"We're going to have to be vary efficient to train you in everything you need to know in just a few days." She announced. "Now where did my..." Searching her drawers she turned up a metronome, the old fashioned kind with a swinging arm. She cleared a space on her bedside table and started it to going. tick. tick. tick. She pulled a long black skirt from her closet.
"Lose the pants. You need to get used to this."
Blushing, you take off your pants and put on the skirt. It feels... different. Silky and swishy and kind of exposed.
"You need to learn to move, stand, and speak like a woman. So here's what we're going to do..." Rachel pulled up a video on vocal feminization exercises for you to practice, then had you do them while pacing across the room, swishing your skirt and stepping daintily. After a few minutes, she added a book on top of your head for posture.
"Imagine a string holding up your head." "Swing your hips a bit more - not that much." "Hold the clutch bad like this."
And the whole time, in the background the metronome was going. tick. tick. tick.
Your whole world shrank down to that room, her instructions. You felt dreamy and not quite real.
"Hold your head a little higher. Okay, I think the voice is acceptable for now. We're going to work on the accent, I'm going to give you a few phrases to repeat, some of them in gaelige - some people call it gaelic but that's Scottish - just repeat what I say, yes? First is craic agus ceol (crack agus kee-ol). Laughter and music, the defining features of an Irish girl. You must always be ready to smile and dance. Say craic agus ceol and when you do, I want you to smile. You should smile all the time. I'll say craic agus ceol to remind you whenever you stop."
So a new drill was added, you had to smile. Eventually she got frustrated or satisfied with the book and took it away. Instead she played soft music and had you sashay, sway and dance across the room, over and over. Every time you forgot to smile she corrected you with a sharp craic agus ceol! and all the while the metronome ran. tick. tick. tick.
The sun had vanished by the time she called a break. You had a supper of frozen pizza, smiling all the while though your face hurt and chatting idly in your best girly Irish accent. When supper was done, she showed you a little of makeup, and had you try on a corset. Smiling, you did whatever she asked. Eventually she had to let you go, but made you swear to come over first thing in the morning tomorrow, Saturday.
She also gave you a pair of panties, blushing as she looked down.
"Wear these to bed. You'll need to get used to them too."
Her mother drove you home. It was almost ten. What a day!
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