Monday’s Relief

By the time Monday rolled around, Tim was starting to feel relieved. His first day after meeting Justice he had experienced three supernatural trades, each one giving him something amazing, but each one stealing a piece of his masculinity in exchange. But that was Saturday. Sunday was an entirely different story.

Sunday was the complete absence of magic.

Yes, the effects of the previous day were still around. His new girlfriend, Nancy, texted him first thing in the morning, asking if he would like to have dinner at her place on Tuesday. Her mother would be there, she had warned, so he was to dress to impress, whatever that meant in this new reality.

The new family dynamic was still at play, as well. His father had gone from a macho bully to a utterly submissive man who wore his wife’s clothing. It was fun watching his mother and Tabby boss him around, never eliciting even a complaint. He seemed to enjoy being told what to do. And when Tim stepped in and gave direction? It was like taking it to a whole different level. Tim’s extra authority, coupled with his dad’s deficit, made the patriarch follow Tim’s orders religiously. He looked at his son with doe-eyes whenever he was receiving instructions, and seemed to shiver in pleasure every time he finished a task.

And so he stayed home and studied. The next day he’d have to go back to school, and he was already behind in a few classes. His first class would be with his favourite teacher, Doctor Morgan, and he wanted to impress her. So he boned up on the reading material, and went over his notes. He was ready.

But the relief he felt waking up on Monday having an entire day with no magical trades was amazing. He got out of bed with a smile on his face, ignoring the face that he was wearing a pair of skimpy pink satin pyjamas, and practically skipped to the washroom to get ready for the day.

Knowing that it was a school day, and knowing that he would be taking the bus thanks to Tabby’s fender bender, and knowing that his trades would change his morning routine, Tim had set his alarm an hour and a half earlier than normal. And he used it. Showering and brushing his teeth were the same, but the rest was new.

Selecting his clothes, for example, took longer. Tim was used to leaving his clean laundry on a pile on his dresser. He would often just wear whatever was on top. Now, though, he had a palatial closet to explore to find something suitable. There was no way he was going to wear a dress to school. Even knowing that everyone would think it was normal didn’t help. Tim wanted some of his old life back, and a pair of jeans was the way to do it.

Unfortunately for Tim, not a lot of women ordered custom blue jeans that were shipped through his dad’s company. Not to say that there were none, but when he finally located them, Tim wasn’t happy.

Tight and low. Those were the words he would use to describe the denim he found. All the pairs, six in total, were the same. Every pair would fit him as if they were painted on, and every pair would, at a minimum, tease the top of his butt crack. Three pairs had paintings of flowers all over them, one had been distressed to the point of almost not existing, and two were just plain jeans, far too tight, far too low.

They were worth it, though. He grabbed one pair, a black lace pair of panties, and a tiny black t-shirt, one that didn’t quite reach the top of his jeans. Added to that a pair of ankle socks and pink sneakers, and Tim was good to go.

Go to the makeup table, that is.

While this step took the longest, he was surprised how quickly and expertly his hands moved. Makeup was now in his DNA, and so putting it on was second nature. He could have tried to leave the house without it, but even the thought of stepping outside with his face bare filled him with anxiety. No, there was no way around it. He had made the trade, so he had to take the good with the bad.

The bus took its time, and Tim was one of the last to arrive to class. He walked in and was surprised to find a seat open in the front. Perfect. He needed to really get on Doctor Morgan’s good side if he was going to survive in the class. The paper he had submitted the week prior had to have helped his cause. He worked so hard on it, so long, it was sure to impress.

After bending to place his books and purse down, Tim smiled at the professor and sat down. She had a bit of a sad look in her eyes, as if she had some secret that was uncomfortable to hold. Maybe he could brighten her day. He opened his notebook to prepare for the lecture, ready to show Doctor Morgan that he was there to be her best student.