After that day at the mall, Shruthi and Aditi stopped treating me like a boy entirely. Every moment we had privacy, they wouldn’t even let me think of wearing male clothes. Weekends were now reserved for my full transformation into Suhasini, and they insisted I stay in feminine attire. But it didn’t stop there—during the week at college, they had a new rule for me: I was to wear female innerwear under my male clothes, no exceptions.
“It’s just to remind you,” Aditi said with a mischievous smile, “that no matter what you’re wearing on the outside, inside, you’re always Suhasini.”
I couldn’t say no to them. Not when they were so insistent, and honestly, deep down, I liked it. Wearing that secret part of myself during the day—whether it was a delicate bra beneath my shirt or a pair of lacy panties under my jeans—it made me feel closer to the girl I was becoming. Every time I moved, felt the fabric against my skin, it was like a whisper reminding me who I really was.
They helped me curate my own wardrobe—dresses, sarees, skirts, tops, lingerie, all meticulously chosen. My new collection of clothes became larger than my male wardrobe ever was, and with each piece they picked out, I could feel my attachment to Suhasini growing stronger.
Shruthi and Aditi had me start growing my hair out, too. They made me follow a strict diet to maintain a slim, feminine figure, and we would often spend our nights together with beauty routines—skincare masks, oiling and brushing my hair, painting nails. They insisted I take it all seriously if I wanted to fully embrace being Suhasini. And strangely, I did. More than I expected to.
Aditi, in particular, loved to tease me, especially at college. Whenever she got the chance, she would drop subtle hints about me being a girl, but always in a playful, light-hearted way that kept others from catching on. One time, while we were in the library, she nudged me and pointed toward a group of boys sitting at a nearby table.
“Look at that one, Suhasini. He’s pretty cute, isn’t he?” she whispered with a smirk.
I blushed furiously. “Stop it!” I whispered back, but she only laughed softly.
“Oh, come on, you can admit it. He’s exactly the type a princess like you would fall for.”
Her teasing never ended. Every time we passed by a handsome boy, she would glance at me and say, “Is that your prince charming?” or “Do you think he’s worthy of our Suhasini?”
It became a regular part of our friendship—whenever we were alone, Aditi would push me toward that fantasy, teasing me about boys, and slowly awakening feelings I wasn’t ready to confront. But she didn’t stop there. She’d engage me in all sorts of girly conversations about boys with Shruthi.
When we were at Shruthi’s place, talking about life or flipping through magazines, they would include me in every girly discussion. “What do you think about him, Suhasini?” Shruthi would ask, pointing to a model in an ad. “Do you think he’d look good with you?”
They were relentless, pushing me deeper into that space where Suhasini wasn’t just a part of my weekends but became a part of my every thought. They would share stories about boys they liked, crushes, and Aditi would always nudge me, saying, “You’re going to have a crush too soon, Suhasini. Maybe even one of these boys we pass by every day.”
At first, I laughed it off, insisting that I wasn’t interested in boys. But over time, as they teased and joked, I started to imagine it. The idea of having a boy admire me, treating me like his girl, even if I didn’t fully admit it, stirred something inside me. It was strange, but I couldn’t deny that it excited me.
Once, while we were walking back from class, Aditi spotted a tall, athletic guy in the distance and nudged me hard. “Look, Suhasini! There’s your hero. He’s definitely got that Prince Charming vibe.”
I rolled my eyes, though my cheeks were burning. “You’re impossible.”
Shruthi laughed from behind us, adding, “Oh, don’t act like you haven’t thought about it. You’re a princess, remember? And every princess deserves her prince.”
I tried to brush it off, but their words had an effect on me. That night, when I was alone in my room, I caught myself daydreaming. What would it be like to be held by a boy? To have someone admire me, love me, like a prince would love a princess? The thought was both thrilling and terrifying.
As the weeks went on, Shruthi and Aditi’s teasing continued, always reminding me that I was their Suhasini. They’d giggle about the boys we saw, nudging me to confess if I had any secret crushes, and while I never admitted it to them, those teasing comments made me feel... different. Like maybe I was starting to see things their way. Maybe, just maybe, I was starting to wonder if I really was a girl deep down, waiting for my prince to come find me.
By then, being Suhasini wasn’t just something I did on the weekends. It was creeping into my daily life, into my thoughts, into my very identity. I was no longer just playing a role—I was becoming her.
YOU ARE READING
My Whispers : A Journey of Self-Discovery"
FantasyA shy boy becomes fascinated by femininity through his female relatives. Secretly adopting the persona of a girl, he experiments with dresses and accessories. As he navigates his dual identity, he faces challenges keeping his secret from friends whi...