Twenty Shades of Puce

Trigger Trigger Warning

In the true tradition of Wokery, this trigger warning serves as itself a trigger warning to the trigger warning that follows.

Trigger Warning

Allusions to transphobia, body shaming, xenophobia and unnatural practices are just some of the tropes apparent in this piece that will have the less expansively minded reader of the drip-dry, irony-free mentality wetting their pants in moral indignation. Anyone who considers themselves of that persuasion is advised that incontinence pads are recommended as the bare minimum requirement before exploring the, quite frankly, filthy recesses of the modern human condition that follows. Ooooh, if my arse was any tighter, it would squeak!

Twenty Shades of Puce

“I wouldn’t give it houseroom,” the speaker sniffed, flouncing through the doorway without giving a backward glance.

“Mmmmm. I know what you mean,” their companion agreed, mincing along behind, although casting a surreptitious look over their shoulder. “You’ve got to admit, though. It’s got some nerve.”

“Nerve? More like barefaced effrontery. I don’t know how it can stand there and call itself … whatever it does call itself.” They shook their shocking pink tresses in indignation.

“Nice pair of knockers, though - if you like that sort of thing.”

They received a cold stare for their suggestion. “We’re not in Thailand now. You didn’t actually cover yourself in glory out there, did you?”

“You wouldn’t deny me a little soupcon of nostalgia, would you?”

“Darling, I wouldn’t deny you anything, but you shouldn’t have had them off if you take the first opportunity to rub someone else’s up. I mean, honestly! It’s not as if it was a ladyboy, even. God knows what her husband thought,”

“Seeing as he was giving me a right going over at the other end at the time, as you well know, I don’t think he was thinking of much at all, actually. Built like a donkey, that one - with a face to match. Good job, I couldn't see it.”

There was another sniff of indignation, louder this time. “And I assume mine aren’t good enough? They cost an arm and a leg. And they’re all real. Not an ounce of silicone to be felt. You could squeeze the hormones out if you pressed hard enough. It looked as if that was what you were trying to do to that trollope in Thailand.”

“Blame the donkey,” they retorted. “I had to hold onto something.”

"Not with so much enjoyment. I’ve never seen a face like it.”

“Darling, there’s a very fine line between pain and pleasure and it felt like that line had been painted somewhere in Vietnam, at the time.”

“Hmmph. Much like her face. I’ve never seen so much slap outside of an S & M dungeon. A bit like her, outside.”

“Oooohh, do I detect a hint of jealousy there?”

“Of her? Seven foot one and built like a brick outhouse? She’s what gives the rest of us a bad name.”

“Nice knockers, though.”

“At least I’ve still got a dick!”

“And that’s what we love about you, babes. I don’t know why you’re so defensive.”

“Maybe it’s because as a gay man in transition, and with lesbian leanings to boot, who’s just hooked up with a woman who wants to be a homosexual man, I’m just a tad confused at the moment.”

“At least you’re not pregnant.”

“What!”

“Much like my own sentiments. ‘Fuck me!’ is what I actually said. ‘Looks like someone already did’ the nurse said. Bit tactless, I thought.”

There was a glazed and enquiring look from beneath the pink tresses. “Is it …?”

“Mmmm. We’ll have to wait and see. The eyes should be a dead giveaway, though.

Pink tresses sat down, still glazed. “This has come as a bit of a shock, I must say.”

"That’s what my ex-husband said although I have to admit the circumstances were a little different. Still, look at the positives. At least you’ll have a purpose for those budding boobs you’ve got bobbing about there, apart from massaging - I’ve seen you. I’m not going to be able to chest feed now, so it’ll be down to you. Of course, you’ll have to up the hormones a bit. Can’t have it sucking dry. Get all manner of wind I shouldn’t wonder. What shall we call it?”

“You sound as if you’re looking forward to it.”

“Well, last gasp before they stitch me up for good. Sorry and all that, but accidents happen, and what with you coming up for the chop shortly could be the last chance we get to start a family - although I’d much rather you kept the tackle. Not much point in my fulfilling the gay dream otherwise. Female to male on male to female doesn’t actually tick many gay boxes does it, no matter how hard you try to skew the rainbow? Although I do take your point about being confused.”

"Confused? Confounded more like.”

“Well, them’s the breaks in the topsy turvy world of Wokery I’m afraid. If you don’t like it you shouldn’t have signed up. You’ve got to go with the flow. It’s every man, woman and non-binary for themselves nowadays, and hang the consequences. If all this had been around in Roman times they would think it was Saturnalia and Bacchanalia every day so think yourself lucky, At least you haven’t got lions and big beefy gladiators to contend with. More’s the pity. Just think: all that animal grease and sweat!”

“Well, I suppose it will put one over on her outside, stood seven feet seven in her heels. She’d never be able to reach the handles on the pushchair for one thing, and as for changing a nappy … with hands that size it would be more like shovelling the unmentionable. You know? The more I think about it, the more I feel like rubbing her nose in it. So bring it on.”

“That’s the spirit. All’s right with our Woke World, babes … except for the throwing up, that is. Excuse me!”