I Want to Wear Lace

By Jason Walker

Daniel was different, at least that’s how he saw it. It wasn’t easy to be all man when all he wanted was to wear lace.

Daniel had lived his life doing all of the things a young man should do, but it never felt completely right. He then discovers that wearing women’s clothes is what he has been missing.

Now, how to tell the world?

READER ADVISORY: A Transgender Novel containing scenes of Homosexuality and Cross-Dressing, as a young man comes to grips with his sexuality and who he really is.

PUBLISHER NOTE: M/M/F, M/F/F, M/F, Voyeurism, Orgy. 52,700 words.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Luminosity Publishing LLP
• Release date: Nov 22, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463411520

Jason Walker

Born in the mountains of Western North Carolina, the author began his career in Radio Broadcasting in the late 1970s. Having traveled the country, he has now, inexplicably, landed back in the town of his birth. Writing full time and producing audio and video promotional products for authors takes up his days and enjoying his life fills all the moments in between. Active in social media, he welcomes any opportunity to interact with his readers and sincerely believes that there is no such thing as negative feedback. Something can be learned from the opinions of others, even if that opinion is less than glowing. You are encouraged to contact him via email, social media or through his website. And as always, he thanks you for taking the time to read his words. He hopes you enjoy them.

Book preview

I WANT TO WEAR LACE

No Limits – Book Three

JASON WALKER

Daniel was different, at least that’s how he saw it. It wasn’t easy to be all man when all he wanted was to wear lace.

Daniel had lived his life doing all of the things a young man should do, but it never felt completely right. He then discovers that wearing women’s clothes is what he has been missing.

Now, how to tell the world?

READER ADVISORY: A Transgender Novel containing scenes of Homosexuality and Cross-Dressing, as a young man comes to grips with his sexuality and who he really is.

PUBLISHER NOTE: M/M/F, M/F/F, M/F. Voyeurism, Orgy. 52,700 words.

I WANT TO WEAR LACE

No Limits – Book Three

JASON WALKER

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WWW.LUMINOSITYPUBLISHING.COM

LUMINOSITY PUBLISHING LLP

I WANT TO WEAR LACE

No Limits – Book Three

Copyright © November 2019 JASON WALKER

Cover Art by Poppy Designs

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

No part of this literary work may be reproduced in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without the written permission of the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

DEDICATION

This novel is dedicated to the souls who, when faced with a difficult decision, choose to be true to themselves. The barriers you face, the slings and arrows of those uninformed, and the looks of disapproval mean nothing. Embrace who you are. The world will love you. Never stop believing and loving who you really are.

CHAPTER ONE

It has been said that things are not always as they seem. That was the best description of Daniel and his life. Throughout his formative years, he knew something was different about him. Different, not necessarily wrong; even though it felt like everyone else thought it was just that — wrong.

From his earliest memory, he could see that he was a square peg being forced into a round hole. His dad, a loving man named Greg Hawthorne, adored his son and they did everything a father and son should do. Daniel was a player on the youth league football team his dad coached. He was a boy scout in the troop overseen by Greg. They fished and hiked and played together. Daniel never had any doubt that his dad loved him and that he seemed to like him too, which was rare. Many of his friends had a contentious relationship with their fathers. Not him. He and his dad spent time together because they wanted to. They enjoyed each other’s company. At least, that’s how it felt to Daniel. When the dreaded teenage years came along, Daniel could see that his dad was giving him the space he needed to discover himself. He was always available for advice or to answer a question, but Greg was careful to let his son have time and space to grow, learn, make mistakes, and start the arduous process of becoming a man.

On the other side of the coin was Daniel’s mother. Any time he was asked about her, by a friend or new acquaintance, the response inevitably started with: My mom? Where should I begin? His closest friends knew better than to bring her up or to even talk about their own moms for fear that it would start him ranting. Don’t get the impression that he didn’t love his mother. He did. He just didn’t like her very much. When he was very young, that made him feel guilty. As he aged, his dad was the one to explain that he was old enough to make his own choices as to who he liked and who he didn’t. So, he could safely admit, he did not like her.

Greg and Brenda had been married a little over a year before Daniel came along. It was less than three years later that they went their separate ways. They shared custody, at least on paper. Most of his life was spent with his dad. Brenda was scarce in his life for a litany of reasons and excuses. She did remarry when he was eleven and rejoiced in private that she had moved several hundred miles away, thus limiting the number of times he had to see her on holiday and the random restaurant get-together when she was passing through on vacation or something. This was fine for him.

As mentioned, he really didn’t like her very much. In his early years, she had shown herself to be inconsistently strict. At one time she would be fine with whatever he was doing; other times she would explode for the same activity. He didn’t know the word when he was a kid, but she was easily described as volatile by others. Even when asked, his dad would rarely speak poorly of her. He never offered any excuses, but conversely, he never assigned any blame. She could have been an alcoholic or a druggie of some sort, or maybe bipolar or just nuts in general, but Daniel never heard anything of the sort from his dad. The worst he would speak was: Sometimes your mom has a tough time dealing with things. He accepted that, even though it required much more explanation. He could see his dad sympathized with him and did his best to protect him, but he had also said quietly when he was old enough to partially understand that there were reasons they didn’t stay together. Daniel left it at that. He hoped he would grasp more about her when he got older.

At the age of sixteen, Daniel’s dad surprised him with a car. It was older and a little rough but it was a car! It was a gift with the standard proviso that he maintained his grades, get a job to contribute to the upkeep, maintenance, and insurance, and a promise not to be too stupid in it. His dad knew a complete ban on stupidity was impossible and unfair. He was a kid once too.

Daniel loved his new freedom. He was a very careful driver. So much so that he took an endless ribbing from his friends for driving like someone’s grandma. He didn’t mind. He knew to keep the car, and the freedom that came with it, he had to be a geezer behind the wheel. He drove to school. He willingly ran errands for his dad. He would even just go for a drive on the weekends. His dad joked that he felt the pull of the open road. He disagreed. He wasn’t about to venture too far from home and wasn’t about to jump feet first into real city driving or an interstate, but he did enjoy it. After the first few months had passed and the initial novelty wore off, he discovered that it was during the times he would drive alone without a destination that he did his best thinking. Highway rumination his dad called it. He admitted that he was the same way. The best thinking is behind the wheel because you don’t have distractions. You have to concentrate on your task, but otherwise the mind can wander, he often said.

It was a sunny Saturday afternoon, a now eighteen-year-old Daniel had driven out a long dusty dirt road to one of his favorite fishing spots. He wasn’t engaging in the pastime; he was just sitting on a large rock watching leaves float down the rivulets of curling water and thinking. His mind had been much occupied in the last weeks. He had a secret and a conundrum. He didn’t know if he could tell anyone, yet he felt if he didn’t share it and talk to someone about it, he might go crazy.

He took out his cell phone and called the only person he had ever been able to discuss difficult subjects with, even though the thought of speaking of it out loud terrified him.

Dad? Yeah, I’m fine.

It was always the first question whenever he called him. Are you okay? His dad was still a dad and worried about his son. It was especially true if he called when he knew he was playing golf. It was his regular Sunday habit. So his son calling him raised red flags.

Calm down, Dad. Everything is fine. Yes, the car is running great. No, I didn’t have a flat, and even if I did, I know how to fix that. Listen, I was just calling to see when you were going to be done. I was wondering if we could meet up at the park maybe. I’ll bring sandwiches. It will be a picnic. He tried to sound lighthearted, but he was sure his dad could see right through it.

All right. Meet you there at five-thirty. Good deal. See ya.

He hung up the phone, stuffed it in his pocket, and went back inside his mind. He knew there had to be some tidbit in there that would make his dad chat go easier for both of them. There had to be a concise, diplomatic, and non-hurtful way to make his admission without being vague but at the same time, not hurting his best friend. He looked into the water and saw a fish slowly wiggling against the flowing stream.

How do I do this? He almost hoped that the fish would pop its head out of the water like a cartoon and explain the perfect words to tell his dad that . . . he couldn’t even speak the words in this quiet place. How in the world was he going to tell his father that he has always felt that deep inside he was possibly . . . a girl?

CHAPTER TWO

Daniel waited at the most obvious picnic table in the park. There was no way his dad wouldn’t see him from the parking lot. He was anxious and had to keep reminding himself that his dad would understand — maybe. He had walked around and back and forth from the car to the table. He tapped his foot. He even caught himself actually wringing his hands. He laughed at that.

Woe is me! Oh, what shall I do? He spoke in an overly dramatic southern accent. He shook his hands and stood up once again. He walked very slowly as he thought. This was going to be one of, if not the most difficult admission of his short life.

He knew it had to be done. He had felt this way for a very long time. At least, a long time for a teenager. It was there as a little kid although he didn’t have a real grip on it. He just knew he was different from the other boys. As he grew and hit puberty, it started to become more in focus. He noticed that his reactions to things were different from his friends.

At first, he was sure he was just gay, but it felt deeper than that and much more complicated. Yes, he felt an attraction to males, but there were also females who got his attention as well. Then he thought he might be bisexual, but again, it was more complex than that relatively simple explanation. He often wished that there was some easy moniker he could hang on how he felt, but none seemed to fit perfectly.

He had come to accept that he was just different. It was only as he got a little older and had unfettered access to the Internet, that he started to find things that he felt described him. He was male but had very feminine thoughts and desires. He was attracted to both genders. The thing that really brought it home was one of those silly tests you can take online — Are you too feminine? Click here.

It was classic clickbait, but it spurred his curiosity. He clicked it and, as expected, it really didn’t tell him anything other than places to buy sex toys and erectile dysfunction pills. But it did give him an idea. He scanned the web and finally came across a test of sorts that helped. It was from a legitimate research center. It was two hundred questions. He could remain anonymous. It was for research purposes and the data gathered was intended for some study. He didn’t care. He could answer honestly without fear of anyone finding out it was him.

After nearly three hours and all two hundred questions, it offered a summary of him based on his answers. It said, in so many words, that he was possibly misassigned in his gender. He fell much further into the feminine than the masculine, and he was most likely bisexual. That was all it took to encourage him to explore, carefully and quietly.

It started with wearing woman’s clothing, alone, and very much in private. He liked how it made him feel. He chose the unique approach of taking to reading traditionally female literature, anything from Cosmopolitan magazine to trashy romance novels. That was the length of his experimentation. He wasn’t sexually active, beyond certain solo activities, so he was unsure about some of the more salacious aspects of how he felt.

Heads up!

The golf glove hit his chest, and he nearly had a heart attack. His dad laughed a moment before realizing that he had really given his son a start. He rushed to him and apologized. They walked to the table with Daniel huffing to catch his breath and his dad ready to help him up should he pass out. Once they were seated and both of them were back under control, Daniel smiled. He drew a deep, cleansing breath and looked at his father.

Dad, we need to talk about something.

The pair chatted for a few minutes while they ate their sandwiches. Daniel avoided the main subject of their picnic because he wanted to enjoy the day a little and relax before broaching the big subject. As he returned from the bin where he deposited their lunch trash, he saw his Dad stand and turn to sit on the top of the table with his feet on the bench.

So, what’s in your head? He offered a comforting smile.

Daniel didn’t sit. Instead, he paced back and forth in front of his dad. I’ve got something on my mind, and I want to talk to you about it. It isn’t anything bad, so don’t start worrying. It’s just something that has been eating away at me, and I’ve got to talk to someone about it.

All right. I’m all ears. No really, look at me. All ears.

He laughed, so did Daniel. They had always joked about the Hawthorne ears looking like a taxi going down the road with the doors open. After the chuckle passed, he got serious.

Sorry. I couldn’t help it. What’s on your mind? I promise to listen and keep the jokes to a minimum.

Daniel stopped and sat on the bench near his feet. Dad, I’m afraid of something, and I don’t really know how to say it.

Greg reached and grabbed him by the hand to stop his pacing. Say it like this. ‘Dad, I’m gay’. His gaze snapped up to see his dad offer a knowing smile. I’ve known for a long time, probably way before you did and that’s okay because you are still my son and I love you.

Daniel sniffled hard a few times to fight back the tears. That may be true, but it’s more complicated than that. Way more complicated I’m afraid.

His Dad slipped off the tabletop and onto the bench. "All right, tell me what’s going on, and maybe I