Era of a New Dawn

By Dawn Marie

When a close friend gives young Darwin Robinson a ticket to go to see Boyz2Gurlz, a UK version of a world famous lady boy troupe, he has no idea what he is about to get into.

From going to watch a show Darwin suddenly finds himself starring in it, dressed as a stunning showgirl, as he is lured on to the stage by the delightful and delectable Cassie, and then subsequently christened Dawn by the maternal and matriarchal Kendra, leader and founder of Boyz2Gurlz.

Offered the chance to join the troupe and become one of the Gurlz, to replace Cassie who is leaving to get married, Darwin jumps at the opportunity. Without really thinking about it too deeply. A lack of thought that leads him to a huge country house outside Birmingham where the Gurlz live and play and practise their craft.

From the day he arrives Darwin is steeped in femininity, as he is trained and guided into being a Gurl. And all the other Gurlz are on hand to help steer him, as he gradually and willingly becomes Dawn, a beautiful and incredibly sexy young performer. A true member of the troupe.

But there is a problem. Dawn doesn’t know who she is, and gradually confusion enters her life as she struggles to understand where she fits, or even how she fits. And mixed up in it all is Alex. Her friend, the man with the ticket who started it all, who grows from being that close friend, to being the man who loves her. Dawn becomes increasingly torn between her desire to be a successful Gurl and the alarming, but strangely enticing, feelings that she develops for him.

As she struggles both to find her place, and to make sense of her relationship with Alex, her confusion escalates until, after an evening in his flat and in his arms, Dawn rushes home where Kendra helps her to finally understand who and what she truly is. An event for Dawn that culminates in a literally mind shattering realisation.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dawn Marie
• Release date: Jun 14, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310864230

Dawn Marie

My name is Dawn,and I have 3 adult children and one on the way. We live in the UK. I am clairaudient and my family are aware of it. It's not something I thrust down their throats in any way. Their own beliefs, are just that, their own, yet they have an insight through me to a world beyond if they so choose.I have taught in person to groups I ran for a couple of years successfully and now focus on one to one work with clients.I have had many experiences over a few years, at one stage not a day would pass without something different happening. That was over 2 years. Various experiences, never repeating.I knew I had to communicate to understand what was happening, so I set about that. Once I did all the daily happenings with spirit interaction stopped. No more need for it.That is what my book 'Knowing Is beyond Belief' is all about. My learnings, my mistakes, what they want you to know and how they want so very much to bridge the gap that we as humans have with them, people in spirit. That's who they are:people. They want humans to see them for literally that, not spooks or ghouls that they may be perceived as. This is their message and it is mine too. I know many people are opening their minds, we are moving forward, just very glad to be a part of it.

Book preview

ERA OF A NEW DAWN

By

Dawn Marie

A Boyz2Gurlz Book

Book One

ERA OF A NEW DAWN

Dawn Marie

Copyright - Bryn Robinson 2014©

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, or to any actual or real event is purely unintentional and coincidental

Cover image by Shutterstock

http://www.shutterstock.com/

Image Copyright: Robert van der Schoot

Boyz2 Gurlz Series

1. Era of a New Dawn

2. Who’s Sully Now

3. Maid by Debt

Chapter 1

Standing under the glass canopy outside the Corn Exchange Theatre, in my home town of Bexfield, watching people drift by in their summer finery, my mind can’t help but wander back to the last time I saw the lovely old building that I am leaning against. It has been almost three years since I was here last and I remember that night so well. It isn’t something I could easily forget or even want to for that matter.

My mate Alex had given me a ticket to go and see a show. Some girl outside the theatre had, he claimed, given it to him, for free, a couple of weeks previously as he was walking past. Apparently it wasn’t a show that he was interested in so he’d given the ticket to me, mainly because he knew that, being sort of unemployed, I was broke and couldn’t afford to do much to entertain myself. He thought I might find it a bit of a laugh.

In truth, the actual content of the show had some appeal for me and I was kind of looking forward to seeing it, though I couldn’t let Alex know that. It featured a troupe called Boyz2Gurlz and it didn’t take a great deal of thought to work out what they were about. They were an English based version of a troupe of world renowned lady boys. Boyz2Gurlz had been operating for about nine years around the country, or so I discovered when I looked them up on the internet. Some of the guys looked really good and could have passed as women any day of the week. I was truly fascinated.

And that fascination was born out of one of my own little habits, one that nobody knew anything at all about, or so I believed. I was kind of into cross-dressing. Not in a big way though. I’d occasionally wear panties or hold up stockings, or sometimes both, when I went to work, when I was working that is, or when I went out – although I wasn’t wearing them that night, it’s a little tricky to hide stockings when you’re wearing shorts. I just enjoyed the feel of them against my skin.

I’d never ever got fully dressed as a woman though; I was always too scared to in case I got caught and, anyway, when you’re sharing a flat with another guy it pays to be as circumspect as possible. Panties and stockings are easy to hide; bigger items of clothing are a little more difficult. I suppose I was a closet crossdresser who’d never really crossdressed.

So, when the opportunity arose to see some real crossdresser types in action I kind of jumped at the chance. I wanted to see if they looked as good in real life as they did in the photos. Plus I wanted to know if they were as good as their website claimed.

Thankfully, it was the height of summer and I was able to dress quite casually; shorts, t-shirt, trainers, etc. It was still quite light when I arrived at the Corn Exchange and a warm evening breeze was gently swaying the overfilled hanging baskets that hung either side of the large glass entrance. A rather attractive young girl, dressed in a white miniskirt and a figure hugging red sleeveless top, was leaning against the door pillar, watching people as they arrived for the show. I assumed she was waiting for somebody so didn’t pay too much attention to her. Very pretty I thought, but way out of my league.

She had a lovely figure though; slender but womanly if you know what I mean. Her full hips gave way to a narrow waist, crowned by what looked like firm full breasts, her cleavage showing above the downward sweep of her top. She looked over at me as I entered, idly sweeping her shoulder length dark hair away from her face, and then she smiled. I could see she had noticed me noticing her. I stopped, briefly stunned by her attractiveness, before quickly looking away and carrying on through the door.

A sizeable crowd was milling around the entrance foyer. The majority were couples and, interestingly, groups of women, but I noted quite a number of guys who seemed to be there on their own. They were mainly hovering around the bar on the far side of the foyer, drinking glasses of lager and surveying the crowd, much in the way that I actually intended to do. I realised quite quickly that there were some, but comparatively few, of what I would call older people; people over forty-five. Being just twenty-four myself I considered that I was eligible to be classed as part of the younger set. Although probably only just.

I grabbed a beer and found myself a corner where I could take in the crowd. A few years ago, on British television, there was a comedy series called ‘Watching’ about a couple who spent a lot of their time people watching and that’s me, a people watcher. Admittedly, I generally find myself watching women but that is because I find them more interesting than men. Not necessarily in a sexual way or even because I fancy them, there is just something more appealing about them. Probably something to do with my little idiosyncrasy. I try not to over-analyse myself too much. I know I can be a bit screwy and tend to leave it at that.

Ten minutes to show, a loudspeaker suddenly announced, snapping me out of my reverie. That was my cue to head for the theatre hall, so I quickly downed my drink, lost the glass, and made my way through the large wooden doors. Only to be stopped by the girl who had been stood outside the entrance. Somehow, I hadn’t even spotted her coming back in. I hadn’t even taken her for an employee.

Can I see your ticket, please? she asked, in a voice that flowed like honey. She smiled, flashing beautiful white teeth, surrounded by full red lips. I almost asked her to marry me there and then.

I handed her the ticket and waited. She looked at it, then looked at me and then looked back at the ticket again. Then she checked her list, then the ticket again, then the list again. A puzzled frown etched itself on her face.

I’m sorry, she said, we seem to have a bit of a problem. Great, I thought, bloody typical. We’ve double booked a couple of seats, she continued, and this is one of them. Box office error; happens all the time. Not to worry though, we’ve got some spare seats near the front if you’re happy to take one of those. They’re end row though, is that okay? She flashed that smile again. How could I resist?

No problem, I replied. As long as I can see the show, I’m happy.

Of course, you will, I guarantee it, she beamed, handing me another ticket. C1, right hand side of the stage. Enjoy.

I said my thanks and made my way down the outer aisle. I was over the moon. My previous seat had been almost at the back, which although not far from the stage, in a building the size of the Corn Exchange was nevertheless of sufficient distance from it to make the performers look like small dolls. Now I was going to get a close up view, courtesy of an error in the bookings.

I sat down on the green velvet-covered seat and took in my surroundings. Looking up I saw an ornate ceiling, decorated with cherubs and the like, with some beautiful artwork within clearly defined, and artistically bordered, squares. The walls were lined with false pillars with Romanesque caps, purporting to support large ceiling arches and also painted with large beautiful friezes.

I noticed that the hall was starting to fill and, of course, I suffered the bane of all those who get to sit in an end seat. For the next five or so minutes I was constantly up and down to let other people, who were to occupy seats further along the row, pass. In the end, I just stood at the end of the row and waited for it to fill up and then sat down again. It was easier.

Eventually the lights dimmed and the general hubbub died down. I glanced around. Almost everybody’s eyes were focused on the stage and the huge green curtains that were illuminated by twin spotlights aimed directly at the join. A loudspeaker burst into life and an extremely male voice boomed:

Ladies and gentlemen, Bexfield Theatre proudly presents, your favourite Gurly troupe, Boyz2Gurlz! Somebody ought to have told him how corny that sounded.

All eyes were now turned to the stage and the silence was almost deafening. I could feel an air of expectancy emanating from the packed audience. A quick drum roll and the huge green curtains opened. And a young, smartly dressed, guy stepped out. What!?

Surprise! he shouted and then burst into laughter. Gets ‘em every time, he chortled as music began to ooze from the speakers. Put your hands together for our lovely ladies. The audience, including myself, joined in the laughter and applauded wildly.

Ladies and gentlemen, and anybody out there of an indeterminate gender, here they are! I give you! Boyz2Gurlz!

With that the stage lights came on to illuminate a burlesque set, with large drapes, huge stairs in the centre of the stage and multi-coloured lights shining on the left and right stage exits. The Gurlz entered, five of them, dancing, from stage right, which was the end where I was sitting. They were all, bar one, dressed as showgirls, in black and pink sequined bras and matching panties, their hair piled high on their heads, each fitted with a sparkling tiara.

The one Gurl not in bra and pants was wearing a one piece, in the same colours, but with the colours reversed, and of the same design. She looked a little more boyish than the others but, in truth, looking at them, with their wonderful hourglass figures, it was nigh on impossible to believe that they were all, in reality, men.

They looked stunning, firm round breasts topped slender waists, which in turn widened into swelling feminine hips and wonderfully rounded butts and then down to long shapely legs, that seemed to go on forever. Copious amounts of sparkling jewellery, rings, necklaces, earrings and even belly button piercings, adorned their fantastic bodies and their makeup was typically showgirl and absolutely flawless. But the panties were a marvel, betraying absolutely no sign of what I knew they had to have been hiding. I was mesmerised. And then I was astounded.

The last Gurl to dance on to the stage was the girl who was outside the theatre, the one who had taken my ticket, the one I wanted to marry. No way! No way, was she a man. She couldn’t be. She saw me staring at her (him?) and winked. Good grief, to be a man and look that good!

My head was a maelstrom of thoughts, wishes and desires, so much so that I almost missed the introductions.

My name is, Roger, said the guy who had first appeared on stage, and I am your host for the evening. Allow me to introduce our beautiful Gurlz, he continued, moving to the left of the stage. The first of our lovely ladies is, Sonya!

A shortish, blonde haired figure detached itself from the troupe, dancing behind Roger, and sashayed towards the front of the stage. She gave an over-exaggerated curtsy, a huge smile, and then she blew a kiss before rejoining her colleagues in the dance.

Bobbie! Roger bellowed.

Another blonde stepped forward, although this one was a bit taller. She danced to the front, spun round on her heels, gave a little wave, accompanied by the obligatory huge smile and then dropped back to continue dancing.

Gemma!

Gemma was a tall, leggy, brunette. She had a beautiful hourglass figure and carried herself with an assuredness possessed by very few actual women, never mind a man pretending to be one. She also had the biggest breasts of all the Gurlz and I briefly wondered how her costume was managing to contain them.

Louise!

She was equally as tall as Gemma, with hair as dark, but she was somewhat more slender. She was also the Gurl in the one piece. Her figure was, nevertheless as appealing as any of the other Gurlz on stage. Yet she didn’t seem to have that assuredness that Gemma carried but she did have a smile that could melt even the stoniest heart.

And, Cassie!

It was my ‘fiancés’ turn. She flowed towards the front of the stage, dancing and kicking and then moved to the end of the stage opposite where I was sat. Looking directly at me, she gave me the biggest smile that I have ever seen, blew me a kiss, span round, bent over, wiggled her butt provocatively and then joined her friends. The guy to my left nudged me with his elbow.

Looks like you’ve pulled there, mate, he grinned, nudging me again.

Er… yeah, I replied, temporarily lost for words and just a little embarrassed.

Once all the Gurlz were, again, dancing in unison, Roger returned to his original position applauding and encouraging the audience to do likewise, to which they duly obliged, along with large amounts of catcalls and wolf whistles.

All the while, Cassie continued to look at me, smiling, very rarely taking her eyes off me. I had to admit, if only to myself, she was gorgeous and so incredibly feminine that I simply couldn’t accept that she was a man. It just didn’t seem possible. I also realised that she wasn’t actually hitting on me, she was just looking at me, as if she was weighing me up, watching my reactions, much as I tended to do when I ‘watched’ people.

Finally, Roger shouted, let me introduce you to the leader of our little troupe, the Gurl who put all this together. Kendra!

All the lights dimmed until the stage was barely visible. The rest of the Gurlz had stopped dancing and were now standing in provocative poses, even though the music continued to sing out from the speaker surround system. Slowly, and somewhat stereotypically, a figure emerged at the top of the stairs, silhouetted by a bright spotlight that came on behind it.

The lighting suddenly switched to reveal a tall, blonde, strikingly attractive woman, wearing a bright red, sparkling showgirl costume with red patent high heels and an equally red, feathered headdress. Kendra slowly began to descend the stairs, her full hips swaying in time to the music, each foot placed deliberately in front of the other as she made her way to the front of the stage. She seemed to be the epitome of womanhood.

The other Gurlz fell in behind her as she walked forward and as she stopped they spread out to her left and right. Cassie once again chose the end nearest to me and cheekily blew me another kiss.

What was she up too? It was obvious, at least to me it was, that she definitely wasn’t making a pass at me. I could tell that from her body language and the way in which she looked at me. Which is more than the idiot next to me could because he nudged me again. I chose to ignore it, partly because I couldn’t be bothered with him but mainly because I was mesmerised by what was happening on stage and didn’t want to miss anything.

Hello ladies and gentlemen, shouted Kendra, in a slightly deep but very feminine voice. Are we all ready for an evening full of fun, music and laughter?

The audience dutifully responded with a resounding, Yes, before Kendra continued.

Wonderful, wonderful, but before we proceed with the entertainment we have a little surprise. Not often, just every once in a while, we like to invite one of our male audience members to join us on stage. And tonight just happens to be that once in a while. But, and here she paused, but he’s got to be prepared to spend a little time with our wardrobe team, if you get my meaning. She put her hands together between her thighs and leant forward, as if to try and engage the audience further, displaying her ample cleavage into the bargain.

After all, she said, we wouldn’t want him to look out of place, now would we? And she flashed one of those smiles that all the Gurlz seemed so expert at. Then she waited a short while, seemingly to allow the enormity of what she was suggesting sink in.

So come on, she cried, "which of you wonderful guys has the bottle to do what we do. Just once?

Cassie looked down at me. C’mon, she mouthed, surreptitiously beckoning me with her left hand. C’mon, she mouthed again. It was then that I noticed the other Gurlz were doing the same but, obviously, to other members of the audience. They’d clearly been up to the same tricks but I’d been so focused on Cassie that I hadn’t spotted it.

So that’s what it was all about! All the Gurlz had known what was coming and had chosen somebody from the audience to work on. And Cassie had chosen me. That was why she was at the front door, she was looking for somebody who fitted the bill, and also no doubt why my seat was conveniently double booked, she needed me close to the stage. Perhaps they had a little side bet going on. My head was in turmoil. I wanted to get up there so bad I could taste it but did I have the guts to do it? I knew I had the balls…. because I’d brought them with me. What if somebody I knew was in the audience? What if it got out that I’d done it?

C’mon, Cassie mouthed again, pleadingly. I looked straight into her eyes. Puzzlingly, there was something there that said to me it was more than a bet. It was like she needed me to do it. Fuck it! I was out for the evening to have some fun. So what if somebody I knew was in the audience? It was just a laugh. I flung my hand in the air and stood up.

Go on then, I shouted. You’ve talked me into it. Cassie’s mouthed widened into a huge grin and, strangely, she looked so relieved I thought she would cry.

Of course my standing up had inspired others who were in two minds about taking part and five other guys got to their feet shortly after me, three of them in the first four rows, obviously the ‘marks’ of the other Gurlz. The girl sat next to one of the remaining two, further back in the theatre, almost instantly dragged him back to his seat. Clearly she wasn’t too happy about the thought of her man in women’s clothes. I suspected that they would be having a lengthy talk when they got home, or maybe even sooner as she then got up and with a face like thunder, stormed out, with him in close attendance.

Whoops, said Kendra. It happens, she then continued, dismissively shrugging her shoulders. Anyway, we’ve got five gorgeous men who want to give it a try and we only require one so we need somebody to make the choice. It can’t be one of the Gurlz because of possible personal preferences. They might fancy one of our lovely candidates. And she laughed, taking the audience with her.

Let Roger do it! squealed Bobbie, excitedly. He’s as straight as the day is long, she laughed. I should know, she then continued, a little dolefully, before laughing again.

Damn! Now that I was on my feet I was so ready and so wanted to do it and suddenly I was a five to one shot. Then, just as suddenly I wasn’t because, by the time Roger reappeared from wherever he had been hiding, two of the guys had got cold feet and had sat down again. I looked at Cassie once more. She smiled. For all the look of pleading that she had given me she didn’t look unduly worried by this turn of events. She just pouted at me and winked again.

Roger stood at the edge of the stage and looked down at us, sizing us up one by one. When it came time for my appraisal I looked directly back at him, almost daring him not to choose me.

I’ve made my decision, he announced, holding out his arm with a finger pointing. He swept it across the audience before, theatrically, dragging it back and then quickly thrusting it forward again. You! he shouted, pointing directly at me, "come on up. You’re it! You’re the man!

All the Gurlz jumped up and down with delight, clapping their hands in that excited way that some women do. Cassie looked like the cat that had got the cream. The audience clapped enthusiastically, as was required

Oh my God, what had I done? I couldn’t back out now, even if I wanted to. In a somewhat dream like state I left my seat and made my way to the stage steps. Cassie was there to help by taking my hand and leading me up. Her hand felt so delicate in mine that I had to quickly remind myself of what she was. Once on stage, she led me to Kendra, before giving me a little peck on the cheek - which raised a titter from the crowd - and then went back to her position in the line.

And there I was, up on the stage, in front of an audience of about three hundred people, waiting to be turned into a Gurl. I know I said I was a bit screwy but this was my craziest escapade yet. I just stood there, not knowing what I was supposed to do next, feeling mind numbingly nervous, extremely exposed and strangely vulnerable. What on earth was I playing at? Panic began to set in and I was on the verge of making a run for it when Kendra suddenly grasped my hand. It was as if she knew what I was thinking of doing.

Then, as if to confirm my thoughts, she pulled me towards her and whispered, conspiratorially, into my ear, Calm down, babe. You’re here now. We’ll take care of you. You’ll do just fine.

Turning to the crowd, she cried, Here he is, our lovely man and soon to be a lovely Gurl. What’s your name, honey?

Urk… I knew this bit was coming. I hate my name. My own fault for choosing atheistic parents apparently. Or so they repeatedly told me when I was younger and complained about it.

Darwin, I blurted out, Darwin Wallace Robinson. And I cringed, anticipating laughs and sniggers from the audience. Why on earth I had blurted out my full name, I do not know. I can only put it down to nerves. Thankfully the laughs didn’t come and so I assumed that the punters were far more interested in what was going to happen than in my stupid name.

Well, Darwin Wallace Robinson, said Kendra, clearly stifling a smile. I felt like a total dick. That’s a nice name but I’m sure we can find you something better.

I wish my parents had, I said disconsolately. That did bring a laugh from the crowd and I felt worse. Clearly I had transmitted to them, my feelings about a name I truly hated.

Kendra chose to ignore the comment, and the laughter, and beckoned Cassie over.

Cassie, be a darling and take our lovely Darwin to our equally lovely wardrobe ladies. And stay with him. I want him to be a beautiful her by the time you bring him back. She turned to address the audience. "Can we manage without Cassie for twenty