Anything Goes
by Kalamity

Many people today look at me and see a beautiful young Queen, happy as ever and feminine as 
any female Cat.  But what they don’t see is someone else behind the façade, an untold story 
only known to those who could bear it.

The story can be complicated or easy to take in, depending on who’s listening.  It can be 
heartbreaking, horrific, touching, whatever you want to think.  To me... to me, the story is 
rebirth into someone completely new, someone who I should’ve been since the moment I was 
born.

Today I’m an unusually tall female Cat, standing at a proud 6’ 3... so I tower over most of 
the other Queens.  (Quite happily, I add.) Flowing long sand-coloured hair pulled back into 
a ponytail with the natural waves of long bangs framing my face, two striking green eyes 
peering out from black glasses, a soft, round face of a gentle Queen.  

Sounds like an everyday female, eh?

Just to confuse you, take another image in your mind.  Semi-long hair kept back in a 
ponytail, dirty blonde colour, high sunken-in cheekbones and a square chin.  And you have a 
Tom’s face, folks!

Now you’re probably thinking that I’m talking about two completely different Cats.  I want 
you to reconsider, okay? 

Here’s the thing.  Right now I’m a Queen, and I have always been one.  But I’ve been trapped 
in a Tom’s body.

Hold the bus! 

How’d this happen? It’s not like there’s been a Queen banging on the insides of a Tom’s 
chest screaming ‘Let me out! Get me outta here!’ That’d hurt.

Not to mention it’s not possible.

What I mean... what I mean is that I’ve felt I’ve been a Queen all my life, but cursed to 
have born in a Tom’s body.  Have I confused you yet? 

Seven years ago I was a full Tom, well-built and strong.  I was born a Tom, raised as a Tom 
by my brother.  He’s been my brother/guardian/parent/everything since the day I entered the 
world.  I’ve always gone to him for advice, and right then I needed it.

Munkustrap is a wonderfully open-minded Tom who’s been out of the closet as gay since I was 
ten years old.  He’s always encouraged my thoughts and dreams and has guided me through 
everything.  Knowing of his... preferable mate choice, it was easy to talk to him about 
things that I was confused of about the gay relationships-that included lesbians.

We sat together staring out into the ocean on our favourite perch upon a large bolder, which 
rested about six feet off from the edge of the cliff.  We’d been there since afternoon; it 
was about five o’clock at the time I broke the silence.

"Munk-do you have any lesbian friends?"

He looked over at me briefly before turning back to the sun.  "Only a couple, really... 
why?"

Uneasy, nervous, and not knowing how to word it, I leaned my elbows back against the slope 
of the rock, sighing.  "Do you remember me as a kitten?"

"Course I do, Tugger."

"Do you remember any strange... quirks?" Hopefully he was catching on.

"Define ‘quirks.’"

Dang.  He wasn’t.

"Uhh..." I was searching for words, a hint, maybe.  "Ever thought what happened to 
Bombalurina’s pink ballerina costume when she was a little Queen?"

Munkustrap was quiet, recollecting. "Mildly."

I held my breath.  Maybe he had seen it my room, maybe not...

"Though..." His eyebrows furrowed, thinking.  "Tugger, what are you trying to tell me?"

Oh Bast.  I needed him to figure it out on his own! Like I was gonna tell him myself... no 
way.  Clues, hints, giveaways, anything! 

"Munkus, do you remember at all when I insisted I wanted to be a bride for Halloween? Or 
when I would take your lipstick and use it myself? Or when I came home from a Queens’ house 
with one of their dresses that they didn’t even know I took? Have you ever thought I was 
*feminine?*"

Now he was totally silent.  His ears had lowered which was usually a sign of deep thinking. 
 He was getting it, I could tell by his face.  Just to keep him going, I kept talking.

"Think about it.  I’ve always liked dresses, boas, high heels, fishnets, everything.  You 
know it... I know you do.  You think I’m a bit odd, don’t you?"

A minute passed.  Two minutes.  Three.  Finally, he spoke.

"No."

No what? He can be so annoyingly blunt sometimes.

"You haven’t displayed any interest in Toms, so I can’t say you’re queer."

True.

"Cross-dressing..." His head turned to look at me. "I can see."

Did I just get insulted?

But now a sneaky grin was creeping over his face.  He was catching on.  And he was liking 
it.

"Do we have an Angel in the Junkyard?"

Ah well.  Anything goes.

I swallowed hard, forcing out a response, witty and stupid, as usual. "Not necessarily-I’m a 
little devil to the elders."

Light chuckle from the silver tabby.  "Our own transvestite, huh?" A smile broke through on 
his face. "A Queen in a Tom’s skin."

I nodded, feeling embarrassed and somehow, guilty.  Next thing I knew an arm was around my 
shoulders and I was being pressed to my brother’s chest in a hug.  Sudden, yes.  Comforting, 
definitely. 

A smile appeared across my lips, my heart swelling with love as I heard his voice in my ear. 
"I completely accept and support you, Tugger... I’m by your side the whole way."

And he was.  He stayed at my side during my decision to have a sex change.  He was there 
when I took interest in Queens and listened to me when I was sobbing over rejections and 
hating hormones.  He supported me when I began wearing Queens’ clothing in the Junkyard, 
then out in public.

Not to mention he was there, in the waiting room, when I had my operation.

Munkustrap was sitting patiently in the cool room reading a book when I stepped out from the 
closed hallway clad in the horrible hospital gowns.  His eyes slowly rose from the page he 
was reading to see his newly transformed brother looking like a perfectly normal Queen.  

That grin he had on his face was worth a million dollars.

Pride shone from his eyes along with admiration for me.  He got up, circled me, then stood 
in front of me, nodding.  "Beautiful."

I don’t recall what happened next, but I think I was either hugging him to death or sobbing 
and hugging him to death.  At that moment all I cared about was his supportive, brotherly 
love that he gave to me during my two years of decisions.  Munkustrap was so proud of me, 
and is proud of me.

And I’m so goshdiggilydarned proud of him.

Two years after my change he was married to the sweetest, caring Tom I had ever known next 
to Munkus.   

Macavity had been with Munkus since I was eleven years old-a year after Munkustrap came out. 
 From then on he was so protective of both of us and loved us dearly.  He, too, was very 
supportive when I announced my sex change.  

There I was, at their wedding, my brother’s best Tom/Queen.

Now we live together, scarily enough, in a subdued wilderness-like area away from the city, 
but not far enough away from all our friends.  We couldn’t live without our friends, no 
siree.  We’d be bored to death if we didn’t have them around.

My best friend, in fact, has hooked me up with a beautiful, kind Queen who is, of course, a 
lesbian and knows that I was once a Tom in my earlier life.  She accepts that fact and even 
calls me my name when I was a Tom at times.  Tugger.  

It sounds strangely familiar to me now... I’ve only heard either Munkus or Macav call me by 
that name when they choose to annoy me.

What? What’s my name now?

Gitana.  Tonnie for short. 
 
I’ve gotta hand it to you.  I have had some mild abuse because of my past and my 
orientation, but I’ve learned to deal with it.  Being a transsexual is not easy, but it’s 
soothing knowing that you are who you need to be at last.

Differences are all around.  They’re all out there, and they need to be taken in with an 
open mind.  And some things need to be known.  I suppose I’ve only given you a small portion 
of what’s to be offered.

Just remember one thing on whatever you choose to do.

Anything goes.