- Title: A Slippery Slope in a Wedding
- Subtitle: A Bridal Switch
- Author: Yu Sakurazawa
- Category: Transgender, MTF
Chris is the 27 year old protagonist of the story. He is a dentist by profession and takes a break from work to attend the wedding of his best friend, Abby. Chris is a loyal guy who takes more than he gives in his relationships/friendships. When Abby decides to desert Giovanni and marry Lord Edgware, Chris is forced to impersonate Abby. He dresses in the bridal gown, wears a white veil and takes the wedding vows with Giovanni. During the course of the story that spans three decades, Chris undergoes feminization and discovers the true nature of the people in his life.
A Slippery Slope in a Wedding
A Bridal Switch
by Yu Sakurazawa
Chapter 1 – Bridal Switch
Wildflowers bloomed everywhere. The wheat fields were a verdant green. And in April, the most romantic month in Italy, my childhood friend, Abigail “Abby” Earnshaw was getting married.
Abby was a typical blushing bride. But her situation was a bit atypical. She had eloped with, and was marrying the ogle-worthy, Giovanni, who incidentally was a capo. A capo is a sort of a lieutenant who serves the boss of a particular Mafia family. 33 year old Giovanni Moretti had been ordained into the Pantelleria Mafia family 15 years ago by Bernardino Lombardi, the boss of the family. Bernardino had evidently inducted Giovanni into the Mafia by extracting a drop of blood from his index finger. Giovanni had remained unswervingly loyal to the boss since then.
Much like the terrain of Sicily, Giovanni was ruggedly attractive. He was tall, swarthy and square of jaw. Giovanni had the kind of lean muscular build and primeval panther-like grace that would sweep a woman off feet. This is exactly what had happened to Abby when she had been holidaying in Sicily a couple of months ago. After a whirlwind romance, the young couple had decided to tie the knot. Needless to say, Abby’s family had not been told about the groom’s profession or of the prospective wedding.
Since I had been Abby’s best friend ever since we were toddlers, she invited me to her wedding. I temporarily closed my dental clinic back in Manchester, and decided to spend some time with my bestie. This wasn’t the wisest of decisions for an upcoming dentist, but hey, you’ve got to go out of your way for friends!
The friendship between me (a blonde, “angelic” blue eyed guy) and Abby (of raven-black hair and devilish green eyes) had raised eyebrows ever since I could remember. People couldn’t believe that a guy and girl could be friends without having had sex. But Abby and I were intimate in so many other ways that sex seemed superfluous. We shopped together, watched weepy movies and studied together (this was before Abby decided to study architecture). Often, after a rather busy day at work, Abby would head straight to my apartment and crash on my couch. I would seize the opportunity to massage her shoulders, cook up a comforting meal and give her a pedicure. Then, both of us would curl up on the couch and catch up with what had been happening in our lives. Or rather her life. Abby would talk to me about the most personal of matters (PMS, problems at work, awkward details of her sex life). However, she wasn’t a great one for listening. If an occasion ever arose when I started talking about myself, Abby would brush me off with an impatient gesture. I didn’t mind. She was my best friend, after all.
Presently, I lingered around the bride-to-be, giving her a relaxing fresh fruit facial. As the maid-of-honor, I considered it my duty to make Abby comfortable in every possible way (Even though I was a bloke, I had been bestowed with the honor of being Abby’s “chief bridesmaid”. Mercifully, I was exempted from wearing a dress, and had been permitted to turn up at the next day’s wedding dressed in a suit). After all, Abby had no other friends here. A few mafia-owned prostitutes had been selected to be the 9 other bridesmaids, but language became a barrier between Abby and the girls. They didn’t speak much English, and Abby’s Italian wasn’t yet good enough for real communication.
Therefore, Abby sent the other bridesmaids away. Finally, when the two of us were alone, Abby sighed and said:
“Whew, what a relief! I couldn’t concentrate with all that “Si”, “Come stai?” and “Grazie”!”
“Hey, the girls were just trying to be helpful” I said, brushing Abby’s thick black hair “besides, since you’re going to settle in Italy anyway, you might as well get used to the language!”
Abby turned around, supported her heart-shaped face with her palms and looked at me with her flashing green eyes.
“No, Chris” she said enigmatically “I’m not going to settle in Italy”.
“Huh?” I asked confused “Are you and Giovanni shifting elsewhere?”
“No, honey” said Abby resolutely “I’m not marrying Giovanni”.
“How could that be??!” I exclaimed, nearly bursting a blood vessel “you’re supposed to walk down the aisle tomorrow!”.
“Sure, I’ll walk down the aisle” replied Abby, grinning impishly “but with Lord Edgware, a couple of weeks from now”.
“Oh my God!” I burst out, unable to believe my ears “you can’t be serious!”.
“I am” replied Abby, her shrewd cat-like eyes flashing “I have accepted Lord Linton Edgware’s proposal of marriage”.
At a loss for words, I simply stared at Abby. Then I went into the retrospective mode. Lord Edgware was the portly, middle-aged marquis of one of the sea side towns of England (Cornwall, Bournemouth or New Brighton, I couldn’t remember). When Abby was studying in Cambridge, Lord Edgware had been invited to be one of the guest speakers on the subject. The fiery, spirited Abby was the only one to shoot a question at the guest. Lord Edgware had answered her query soberly and to-the-point. He had maintained a stiff upper lip, but was nevertheless impressed. It took no time for the Lord to fall in love with the fiery, fresh-faced Abigail. He had, since then, pursued her gallantly and patiently, only to discover that his Lady Love was an elusive creature. Abby hadn’t accepted Lord Edgware’s proposal, nor had she rejected it downright. She had kept him hanging—until recently. The words that Abby uttered right now proved that she had put an end to her prevarication.
“But…but Abby, you’re supposed to be marrying Giovanni!” I presently cried “when Bernardino finds out that you have ditched his favorite capo, he’s going to hunt you down and put a bullet through you”.
“Oh, don’t worry” replied Abby complacently “by the time the old villain finds out, I’ll be safe and sound in my manor”.
“I doubt it” I said skeptically “your wedding is scheduled for 10 am, and the earliest plane to Manchester doesn’t take off until 12 am!”
“That’s where I need your help” replied Abby, looking intently into my eyes.
“Anything, babe” I replied loyally “I’d do anything for you”
“Well then, Chris” replied Abby continuing to maintain her hypnotic eye-contact “you have to marry Giovanni instead of me tomorrow”.
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