Synopsis: Karen Marlowe discovers that her co-worker Jason is a transvestite. Karen uses this information to take control of Jason’s life. In private, Karen helps transform Jason into the beautiful and confident Jasmine that she has always wanted to be. But in public, Karen forces Jason to make some difficult, life-style altering decisions as she slowly starts feminizing Jason’s clothing and hair styles.

Jasmine Cally Vail — The Awakening
 
by G. L. Hudson
 
 
The author would like to acknowledge and thank Riottgrrl for proofreading and helping to prepare this manuscript.
 
 
ADMIN NOTE: This story was lost under the new author lists somehow and the author was never added to the author list making this very good story "lost." With some slight touching up I have reposted this story for another viewing and attached it to the proper author in the author list. It was originally published on Big Closet Classic on 2005-05-05 08:13:23 -0700.
Special thanks go out to Stacy for bringing this to my attention!
Please Enjoy!

Sephrena Lynn Miller

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CHAPTER ONE
 
 

Today was the day. The first day of our new careers. I steered my BMW into the parking deck, lowered my window and slid my parking pass into the automatic gate controller. The gate rose and I drove beneath it to my new parking space. The sign in front of the space had the name Karen Marlowe stenciled on it. I smiled. I put the car in park and looked over at Jasmine.

"We’re here. Ready for our first day, Jasmine?"

"I am at your beck and call, Ms. Marlowe," she answered. Her smile was as large as mine.

"Ok then, let’s have at it."

I stepped out of the car and reached behind the front seat to pull out my attaché and purse. Jasmine stepped out, smoothed the front of her skirt and slipped the strap of her purse over her shoulder. We walked across the parking deck to the elevators, our heels clicking on the hard concrete, and when we reached the elevators I pushed the button. Upon its arrival, we stepped in and I pushed the button for the seventh floor. I smiled to myself — the seventh floor was where this all started - although it was a different building in a different city. The bell chimed and the doors opened. I led Jasmine down the carpeted hallway to our office.

The door had a simple title in a simple font written across the center. Karen Marlowe Attorney at Law. I slipped the key in the door and opened it for our first day in business. The cool air from the air conditioning unit greeted us. I began walking towards my small office in the rear, "Jasmine, can you get the coffee started, please?" I never looked around to see if Jasmine had heard. She responded with a short, "Yes Ma’am," as I continued towards my office.

I was psyched. This was what I had always wanted, my own small law firm. Maybe someday I would take on a partner. Maybe even two. But today it was just the two of us. I was the lawyer and Jasmine, my lover and best friend, was my secretary and paralegal. I sat behind my desk and opened my lower right-hand desk drawer. I dropped my purse inside and slid the drawer closed. It made a quiet, but solid thud as it came to a stop. The sound of quality. I had insisted that we buy quality office equipment. I had told Jasmine that first appearances would be very important. When potential clients walked in that door, the surroundings and the people, Jasmine and I, had to exude professionalism and confidence. I looked around the office and was satisfied. We had decorated tastefully, everything looked professional and had an aura of quality and money to it.

I turned on my computer and while waiting for it to boot up, I glanced out the window into the deep blue sky. It was going to be a beautiful day, not too hot and not too humid. I could see the cars and people passing along in front of our building. The computer beeped and asked for my password. I admired my latest manicure as my fingers flew over the keyboard. Even a manicure was not too small a detail in this highly competitive business world. I had chosen a French manicure, featuring clean white lines across the tips of my nails. And I had insisted on Jasmine using a bright red polish on are her slightly longer nails. Professionally manicured nails featuring a highly feminine red color to draw attention to them would suit Jasmine well as she greeted our new clients.

Jasmine walked in with two steaming mugs of coffee. She placed one on the engraved coaster on my desk, and held the other in both of her hands as she sat down in the chair across from my desk. She crossed her legs and gave her skirt a quick tug to pull it down just over the top of her knee. She waited for me to take a sip of my coffee and they asked, "Is it ok?"

I noticed the marks that my lipstick left on the edge of my mug. I licked my lips and could taste the coffee. "It’s fine sweetie. Or should I say Ms. Vail. We need to remain professional in the office," I reminded her as well as myself.

"Absolutely, Ms. Marlowe." Jasmine smiled. She looked beautiful. Her red hair was full of tight curls and cascaded down around her face. Gold hoop earrings peaked out behind the curls, and swung ever so slightly as she tilted her head. "So what do you think? Are you ready for your first day?"

"I’ve never been so psyched in my life," I answered. "This is going to be grand. I have a great feeling about this. We’re going to love being our own bosses."

Jasmine giggled and tossed her head to chase a curl out of the way. "While we’re here you are the boss, and I am the help. So Ms. Marlowe, what would you like me to do first?"

I picked up my coffee mug and held it in both hands. I leaned back in my leather chair and thought a moment as I again looked at the lipstick mark. I took a sip and then leaned forward to set the mug back on its coaster. "Well, its not exactly like we’re backed up with clients, is it?"

Jasmine’s dimples showed as she smiled. She had the prettiest smile. She gave her head a slow nod in the negative direction.

"Why don’t you start with the telephone company and check on our ad in the yellow pages. I don’t believe the stationary with our letterhead has arrived, give them a call if you would, please. Check with the building super and ask if he needs anything else from us as far as transferring utilities into our name. Go over our move-in list and make sure everything is handled," I told her.

"Will that be all, Ms. Marlowe?" she asked dutifully.

"That will be all, Ms. Vail." Jasmine stood and walked out of my office. As she walked out, I watched her hips sway ever so slightly beneath the clinging silk skirt that she was wearing. Her stockings had a seam down the back and I noticed that they were perfectly straight. Her ivory blouse was a perfect match for her patterned skirt. She looked beautiful and professional.

I swiveled my chair around and faced my computer. No email. I looked out the window again and admired the view. My mind began to wander. Here I was in my own office in my own law firm. Even if it was only Jasmine and me, it was still a law firm in my mind. She had looked so pretty as she walked out that door. It was amazing how far she had come. It was amazing how far we had both come. It seemed like only yesterday that we had first met …

I had been out of law school for three months. The job market stunk, and I had received no positive leads on any of the numerous resumés that I had sent out. I was still living with my college roommate Gloria, and I really wanted to move into my own apartment. I had just broke up with my boyfriend of 6 months and I was rather depressed about everything. I was using my spare time to study for my board exams, but it just didn’t fill up all the spare time that I had.

I was starting to go out at nights with Gloria just to have something to do. I had been living with Gloria for two years. She had advertised for a female roommate and as most college students, I was short on money and needed a roommate to share expenses. I called her number and she invited me over. She gave me a quick tour, set forth her rules and expectations and everything sounded ok. Then she explained that she was a lesbian. Not that it was a big deal, and not that she was looking for roommate for sexual games, but she wanted me to know up front. She would be occasionally bringing home friends and she didn’t want any complaints about it from her roommate. If it was going to be a problem, she wanted to nip it in the bud. It was fine by me and I moved in two days later.

Gloria pretty much went her way and I pretty much went my way. We got along quite well, and never had any problems that lasted more than 24 hours. Gloria had chosen her apartment because it was in the gay area of town. There were several gay bars in the area, and her favorite was across the street. During my college days, I had occasionally joined her on a Saturday evening across the street at Glitter. Glitter catered to both male and female patrons. They ran a decent grill and served a good BLT sandwich until 8:00 P.M. each night. After 8:00, the bar usually began to fill up. The guys pretty much stayed to one side of the bar, and the girls on the other. There were occasional flare-ups, but they never led to much trouble. In the back was a large dance floor and a small stage. Once a week they used the stage for karaoke, three times a week they had a disc jockey, Monday nights they had football and Saturday nights, they had a late drag show after the disc jockey finished.

It was a pleasant bar during the week and a high energy bar on weekends. I was one of the few people who felt comfortable on both sides of the bar. The regular girls soon learned my preferences and were polite and left me alone. The guys had little interest in me except for the cross-dressers. They liked to talk with me for some reason. I was polite, but had no interest in them. Especially the ugly ones. The sight of them drove me crazy. But I have to admit, there was one guy who was really cute. He looked and acted so much like a girl that newcomers had no idea that he wasn’t a girl. I didn’t mind talking with her. She called herself Tara.

As much as I liked the bar, I was starting to spend too much time there. I really needed a job, a new apartment, new clothes and a love life. As I said, I was beginning to get a bit depressed.

But luck finally turned in my direction. I was called for an interview. It was with a large multi-national corporation. I spent the day in half a dozen interviews and I thought I held my own. I received a polite thank you at the end of the day and was warned that it would be a couple of weeks before they would get back to me. Corporate law wasn’t the reason that I had entered law school, and it wasn’t exactly what I wanted, but then I was in no position to be picky. I really wanted a job that paid money.

They called me back about two weeks later and I went through another round of interviews. They said they were interested in me, but again they would need another couple of weeks to finish other interviews, review everyone’s opinions, run the flag up the flag pole, check with the local astrologer and run background checks. No wonder I never liked corporate law or corporations. But I really wanted the job. I needed the job.

I must have passed the background check because an offer was extended. I took it immediately. It didn’t pay enough, the perks were weak, the potential boss looked like a crook and there were no other female attorneys. It was rather obvious that they had a quota to fill, and I was it. But I took the job. It was contingent on me passing my boards, but that was always understood.

So I started on a Monday. I arrived 30 minutes early and it took twenty minutes to find a parking space. I marched into the Human Resources office and announced my presence.

"Welcome, Ms. Marlowe. My name is Megan and I work for the HR director, Mr. Kleber. Would you like a cup of coffee?" Megan was very perky and friendly. I wasn’t sure if she were trustworthy or not, but I didn’t think she would poison my coffee on the very first day. I accepted her offer. She brought me the coffee then said, "Would you follow me this way? We have a ton of paperwork to fill out before we can get you to your new job."

She led me to a small conference room. The room had a table that was too large. I wondered how they even got it in the door. We had to squeeze against the wall to get around the table to a couple of chairs. The table was stacked with papers. "Don’t worry," said Megan. "You won’t have to fill out all of these forms, just the majority of them." She tried to laugh but only a pathetic snort came out. I took a seat and set down my styrofoam cup.

"Bring ‘em on," I said. And she did. I had to fill out another employment form, insurance forms for teeth, for eyes, for general health, for prescriptions, for chiropractors and medical secrecy, confidentiality, CIA and loyalty oaths to the health industry. But I couldn’t complain too much. Even though everyone in the world would know all about me, at lease I would have health coverage. There were a lot of people out there who had nothing.

"This is a form for United Way," Megan announced as she slid it under my pen.

"This form is already filled out," I complained.

"I know, were just trying to save you a little time," she said in the least sincere voice I had ever heard. The box for maximum contribution had already been checked. I hadn’t even started work and they were already taking back my meager salary. But what could I do? I bit my lower lip and signed.

I filled out some confidentiality forms, and a patent release form. ‘What in the world was I going to patent?’ I asked myself. They even had me sign a morality agreement. If I did or said anything that reflected negatively on the company, I would be fired. I signed for a parking place in the garage. If I ran over any pedestrians, or stored an old 1976 pick-up on blocks in my parking space, I would be fined. I was amazed at how many forms a corporation could think up.

"That’s all of the forms," Megan finally announced. "Now here is your employee handbook. Oops, I forgot. Here, you have to sign this form that says you received your handbook." My eyes rolled into the back of my head and looked for some light at the end of this tunnel. It was still dark. "Oh, and that reminds me, you also have to sign for your employee safety manual." Megan smiled as if she really enjoyed torturing helpless employees. I had the distinct feeling she also enjoyed pulling the wings off flies.

Finally, it came to an end. I thought I was going to be led to my new office and meet my fellow co-workers. Wrong! "Do you have any questions so far?" she asked me.

A grimace crossed my face and I politely responded, "Not yet."

"Good," she said. "Now we have a couple of tapes to show you. We have to go to another room for that. Follow me," she said cheerfully. I think she was cheerful because she didn’t have to sit through the tapes.

It took 90 minutes to cover the tapes on office rules, safety, building evacuation in case of fire, tornados, hurricanes, earthquakes, terrorists, sabotage, irate employees with guns knives or bombs, bomb scares, biological, chemical or radiological attacks or in the event someone from Jehovah’s Witnesses showed up at the front door wanting to convert the sinners.

I hadn’t been there half a day and they were already grinding me up in their corporate extruder. Megan then took me to the security department on the first floor. I had my picture taken and laminated onto a piece of plastic with both a magnetic strip and an embedded RFID chip. The security officer attached a pretty pink string to it and told me to wear it around my neck when I was in the building. "I’m not sure this pink string will go well with my pearls," I joked. The officer just stared at me. He didn’t know what to say.

"Well that is what they give us to put on the badges. I don’t have anything else," he mumbled.

It was becoming obvious to me that you were not allowed to bring a sense of humor into the building. "Just joking," I said. "This will be fine." He sort of smiled, actually he grimaced, and told Megan that he was finished.

Ten minutes before noon, Megan led me to the law department. It was located on the seventh floor. She slid her security badge in the slot next to the door and quickly pulled it out. The LED switched from red to green and I heard a click. Megan grabbed the handle on the door and pulled it open. We walked over to the first desk we found and Megan introduced me. "Lisa, this is Karen Marlowe, she is our new lawyer. Karen, this is Lisa. Lisa is the executive office manager for the Law Department."

I extended my hand and took Lisa’s hand. "It’s a pleasure to meet you Lisa," I said.

"We’re sure glad to see you, Karen. We thought HR had forgotten about us." It was an obvious dig and it came with a slight perfunctory smile.

Megan understood the comment. "Ok, then. Karen is all yours." She turned on her heels and headed out the door.

"Karen, your new office is over here," and she began leading me towards the back of the room. "We’ll be heading over to the cafeteria and lunch in about 5 minutes. Do you know where it is?"

Lisa was very formal and official in her tone of voice, but I thought I sensed a bit of honesty and maybe even kindness. My first impression of Lisa was a workaholic from 8:00 to 5:00, but a good person outside of work. Of course, it wouldn’t be the first time, nor the last time that I was wrong about someone.

"No, I’m afraid not," I answered.

"Why don’t you drop off your things, and then we can walk over for lunch. I’ll introduce you to a few of the girls, and after lunch I can help you get situated."

"Thanks, that would be wonderful. Can I use the little girls room before we go?"

"Sure." She pointed across the room, "The ladies room is over there. When you finish, come up front to my desk and we’ll head over to lunch."

I walked over to the ladies room and was duly impressed. It was large, clean, well lit and had comfortable chairs for those tough days when you just had to relax for a few minutes. I used the toilet, changed my panty liner, washed my hands and tidied up my make up. I slung my purse over my shoulder and walked out to Lisa’s desk.

Lisa gave me a warm smile and asked, "Ready?" I nodded yes. Two other girls were standing by her desk. "Karen this Jasmine, she is the paralegal for environmental services, and this is Terri, she handles all of the domestic real estate services." Both girls showed their pearly whites and we shook hands. They both seemed very nice at first blush. "Shall we be off, then?"

Lisa led the way out the door with the other two girls following and me bringing up the rear. Once in the main hallway we headed towards the elevators. Jasmine turned to me and asked, "What areas will you be working in?"

"I’m not real sure, yet. I haven’t met with Mr. Pearson." Pearson was the law director. "When I interviewed he said that he needed help with consumer litigation, HR and contracts. So I’m not sure which area I’ll be working with."

Contracts," Jasmine announced. "We’re desperate for help there. If he puts you in litigation I’ll kill the stupid idiot." She didn’t even smile when she said it. I guessed that maybe they really did need help in contracts.

The elevator arrived and we went down to the second floor and walked over to the cafeteria. It seemed to be a typical corporate cafeteria. Lots of plastic and stainless steel, no acoustics and uncleaned tables spread around the room. Lisa again led the way. "Karen, here are the trays and utensils. That carousel over there handles salads, jellos, cottage cheese, fruit and the like. Over here are the specials, and they’re listed on the board up there." She pointed in the general direction of the chalkboard. "Around the side of that carousel is the grill. You can order hamburgers, fries and the like. There is a small freezer over this way, and you can get ice cream and fudgesicles. When you pick up your food you need to go over to the check out counter. You have two choices; either cash or give them your security card and they will charge your meal. You will get a bill twice a month if you decide to charge your meal. And when you’re through, we usually sit at that table over at the window. Ok?"

"Ok." I walked over to the salad carousel and picked up a plain lettuce salad with a few bits of tomato and cucumber on it. I splashed some Italian dressing on it, picked up a small dish of cottage cheese and paid cash. I was the first one through the lines and I guessed as to which table Lisa had been pointing towards. I must have been correct, because the other girls soon joined me.

"Light eater?" Terri asked.

"Not usually, just low on cash right now. I don’t want to start charging anything until I can get my finances in order."

"Money tight?"

"Yeah, that’s part of it. But the other part is I just don’t know where I stand yet. I want to find my own apartment, I need to buy some more work clothes, and I have a load of school loans to pay off. Up until now, since I haven’t been working, I haven’t been paying off the bills. But now that I’m working I have to start making payments."

Terri looked understanding and sympathetic. "If I can be nosy, how much does it cost to go to school these days."

"Well, its not just school, tuition, books and all, but it is the cost of living also. Room, board, transportation, and the lot. Suffice it to stay I have over $30,000 in loans I have to pay off."

"Wow," she said. "That makes things a bit tougher. I’ve wished I could make the salary that you lawyers make, but you certainly come in with some heavy baggage."

I just smiled. Already I was one of "them". I was one of the high paid people. I wished she hadn’t said that. I didn’t have any friends here, and I definitely didn’t consider myself one of "them" high paid people. Jasmine and Lisa quickly joined us.

"So how is the first day going?" Jasmine asked.

"So far I’ve spent a grand total of ten minutes in the law department. I never knew there were so many HR forms to sign."

"Don’t worry," Lisa said. "Most of that HR crap is behind you. They have to be the most worthless group of human beings on the face of this planet. I swear the only requirement for working in HR is that you have to fail at every other job first." Jasmine and Terri added an ‘amen’ and I had to giggle. Lisa noticed my giggling and she added, "I’m not kidding. They’re worthless."

"Where are you from?" Jasmine asked.

"Cincinnati," I answered.

"What brings you here?"

"Law school. I got a little financial help and so here I am. Although I have to say, that financial help was very little. I’d hate to see where I would be without some of that help."

"School loans?" Jasmine asked.

"Big time," Terri answered for me. I also gave an affirmative head shake. "Are you married? Terri changed the subject.

"Nope," I answered as I flashed my bare ring finger.

"Steady?"

I shook my head no.

"Well there you go," and Jasmine gave a head nod towards a man walking down the aisle with his food tray. He was young kid, I thought. He was short, probably no more than 5’5" and very thin. He had a very pretty face, almost feminine.

"Who is he?" I asked.

"New kid," Terri chirped. "Kind of a dual position. He is a paralegal, but also seems to be a whiz with computers. They sent him down to IT for a couple of months and now he’s back in our department."

"What’s he do?"

"He does paralegal for real estate and he handles all of our PC problems," Lisa said. "I’ll introduce you to him this afternoon. He handles all the security, passwords and such, plus equipment and network problems that you might have. I’ll have him show you how everything is networked and how to handle the day to day fun of printers, fax machines and the rest."

"So what do you think?" Jasmine said. "What do you make of him?"

"What do you mean?"

"Do you think he is gay?"

"Gay?"

"Yeah, look at him," Terri said. "He’s a real pretty boy. Never says a word to any of the girls. Looks pretty small and effeminate to me."

"Some of the other girls have their doubts as well," Jasmine added.

I was hoping Lisa, as the office manger, would stop this gossip but she was also waiting for my opinion. "I don’t know," I said. "He looks very young. How old is he?"

"Twenty two," answered Lisa. "He has a high school education and a two year degree at one of the local vocational techs."

"Well that might explain why he doesn’t talk with any of the girls. Everyone is older than him. Plus, you said he just started?" Jasmine nodded. "Well he is probably a bit overwhelmed and unsure of himself. It takes a while to become accustomed to new surroundings. I know I’m still a bit unsure of things."

"But you haven’t been here a full day yet," Terri said. "He’s been here four months. That’s a big difference."

"That’s still not a lot of time."

"So, you haven’t given us your opinion. Do you think he’s gay?" Jasmine was prodding me for an answer.

"I don’t know," I said. "Yeah, he looks like a pretty boy, but that doesn’t mean anything. I’d hate to say something negative about someone that I’ve never met."

"Well, you’ll get to meet him this afternoon," Jasmine pointed out. "Check him out and tell us what you think."

"There you go," added Terri. "Your first assignment is evaluate the new boy and report back to us at lunch tomorrow."

I grimaced. My first day there and the office girls were already trying to pull me into their petty office gossip. I felt sorry for the boy. He hadn’t been there four months and they were already sniping behind his back. I worried what they might do behind my back. I had spent many an hour in a gay bar and I had seen many a gay man. He had the looks for possibly being gay, but I didn’t see it in his mannerisms. As young as he was, I really thought his problem was simply shyness. But being my first day, and not wanting to alienate the girls, I agreed to give them my evaluation the next day.

We finished lunch and took our trays over to the conveyor belt and sent them on their way into the kitchen. We took a leisurely stroll around the foyer overlooking the first floor and did a bit of people watching. Even though it was still lunch, there were lots of people walking in and out of the lobby down below.

"Do you work out?" Jasmine asked.

"Not much," I confessed. "Partly because of the amount of time I spend on school and studies and partly because of money. I can’t afford to join a gym."

"Well if you want, you can join me for aerobics after work. The company has a nice gym on sublevel 1, and Monday, Tuesday and Thursday they have aerobics from 5 to 6. Its free."

"Well ok. Thanks, I’ll think about it."

"Also, a couple of us single girls stop and have a cocktail across the street on Friday nights. We don’t stay long, unless of course we get lucky. It’s an interesting place for single girls."

I smiled, "Thanks. I might take you up on that. It kind of depends on how well I can get settled in."

"I’ll check back on Friday to see if you’re interested. Well, let’s start heading back to the office."

I followed her as we walked up the 5 flights to the seventh floor. Jasmine used her security card to clear us into the law department, and then she led me back to my office. "There you go. Good luck and welcome to the company." She turned to walk out of my office, then stopped and turned around, "And don’t forget your homework assignment. Let us know what you think."

"I will," I promised.

I sat down and started looking through the desk drawers and playing with the computer. Lisa stopped by a few minutes later. "Karen, this is Mr. Pearson." Lisa turned and left.

Mr. Pearson was a tall, good-looking man. He was probably in his fifties, but very athletic looking. He looked like a real, corporate power broker. He walked towards me and held out his hand. I reached over my desk and shook his hand. "Welcome, Karen. We’re glad you took us up on our offer. I hate to say this, but we are under staffed and over worked, so we’re going to throw you into the fray immediately. Why don’t you come down to my office and I’ll give you some insight into what we need."

I followed Mr. Pearson out the door and into the open work area. There were several work cubicles, but the cubicle walls were only 4 feet high. The area was very open. Mr. Pearson silently led me around the room, never saying a word to the secretaries and paralegals. Then we went to the offices around the perimeter of the room and he introduced me to the other lawyers. We worked our way around the room and eventually made it to his corner office.

His office was about twice the size of everyone else’s. He had a large mahogany desk, and a beautiful credenza behind it. Across the room, he had a sofa and two wing back chairs, with a low coffee table between them. There was a stack of papers on the coffee table. "Come over here and take a seat, Karen. Can I get you some coffee or a soft drink?"

I was a bit dry. "If it isn’t too much trouble, I’ll take a diet coke," I answered.

"Not at all, he said." He closed his office door part way, and there was a counter with a sink behind the door. Under the sink he had a small refrigerator. He took out a diet coke and turned towards me, "Would you like a glass?"

"Can is fine."

He returned to the sitting area, handed me the coke and then took a seat on the sofa. "Well then, let’s get to work. I have a lot I’d like to cover with you." He took a sheet of paper off the top of the stack and handed it to me. "This is the organizational chart. I have you reporting to John Taylor and I would like you to help out on two general areas; government contracts and HR issues to make sure that we are compliant with all federal, state and local requirements. It’s going to be a handful."

The discussion lasted almost two hours. He threw so many things at me that I thought I was buried already. But he was a really nice man. I decided immediately that I liked him. It was an intense 2 hours, in that I was overwhelmed with all of the new work and details. At the end of the meeting, I literally waddled to the rest room.

After recovering my composure, I returned to my office and started to sort through some of the numerous files Mr. Pearson had given me. I had barely started when I heard a knock on my door. It was Jasmine and the boy computer specialist. "Ms. Marlowe, do you have a few minutes?"

"Sure Jasmine, come in."

"Ms. Marlowe, this Jason Vail. He is our department’s expert on computers, and he is here to give you an orientation to our computer systems. Do you have time to see him now?"

"Yea, now is as good as any time," I said. I stood and offered my hand to Jason, "Hi Jason, It’s a pleasure to meet you." He took my hand in a very tentative grasp and we shook.

"Nice to me you too," he said. It was obvious that he was very nervous.

"I will leave you two to your work then," Jasmine said. She gave me a quick wink before she turned and walked out the door.

"Well Jason, how do you want to do this?"

"It would be best if you sat in front of the computer and I walk you through the different steps. It usually works better if you do all of the entries yourself."

"Sounds good, Jason. Why don’t you slide that chair over here, and sit beside me."

Jason grabbed one of my chairs and started pushing it. The chair caught on a seam in the carpet and tipped over. He almost went over with the chair. "Sorry." He picked up the chair and pulled it over rather than push it. It came along much better that way. I slid up closer to the keyboard so that he could also get closer. He still set up his chair a long way behind me.

"Jason, you can slide up closer. It will be easier to see."

"Ok," and he slid 2 millimeters closer. I just smiled to myself.

"Where do we start?" I asked.

"Let’s set up your computer for all of your passwords. You will have to tell me your password. We often come in before work, or late at night and load new updates. We need to know your password to do that."

"How long does it need to be?"

"Five to 8 characters and we like to have a mixture of letters and numbers."

I thought for a minute and came up with a neat idea. "Jason, what is your middle name?"

"Mine? James."

"And when were you born?"

"May 15, 1982."

"Ok, how about james82?"

I looked over my shoulder and I could see him turning red. "Yea, that’s ok."

"And it will help you remember it also. Right?"

"Uhh, yea. Cool."

"Ok, what do I do?" Jason James Vail then walked me through several screens, typing in my new password as we went along. We set up defaults, set up icons for the different law databases that I would use on a regular basis, initialized my e-mail, set up nicknames, printers, fax interfaces, calendars and on and on. It went quite well. Normally, computers always jump up and bite you on even the simplest set-ups, but Jason knew what he was doing.

As we moved along, I made small talk during waiting periods. "How long have you worked here Jason?"

"About 4 months."

"Are you from here?"

"Yea, I grew up in Evansville, one of the Chicago suburbs."

"Still live there?"

"For the time being. I’m not sure how much longer I’ll be there."

"Where did you go to school?"

"The local vocational school, Evansville Technical."

"Any brothers or sisters?"

"‘One of each."

"Are you close?"

"Sort of. My brother and I are. He’s only one year behind me. I love my sister, but we aren’t really that close."

"That’s too bad," I said.

"Well it’s tough," he said. "She’s moderately autistic, and has her good days and bad days."

That caught me by surprise. "I’m sorry to hear that." He sort of shrugged his shoulders and that was the end of our small talk. I was going to ask him about girl friends, but I couldn’t bring it up.

Jason finished up with the orientation and pushed his chair back. I stood with him and shook hands. "Thanks Jason. If I have any problems, how do I get hold of you?"

"My phone extension is on your list over here, and my desk is out front by Terri." He pulled his chair back to its original position and left. I went back to my pile of folders that Mr. Pearson had given me.

The next time I looked up it was 5:00. Terri and Jasmine each knocked on my door and said goodnight as they headed out. I stayed until about 7:00 P.M. I was getting hungry and my eyes were starting to burn. It was time to turn out the lights and head home.

 
 
CHAPTER TWO
 
 

The next morning I drove my rust bucket around the parking deck twice before I found my parking spot. It wasn’t very close to the office, but it was all mine. Cool! I was on the corporate ladder. The perks were starting to come. The pay sucked, but you have to start at the bottom I told myself.

I walked in the office at 7:15 and found no one there. I searched around in the twilight of security lights until I found the light switch. I went to my office and logged on to my computer. I spent the next half hour surfing my favorite news sites. A little before 8:00, I started on my stack of files. I worked through the first file, taking notes and making a list of items I wanted to check into.

I finished the first file at 8:30 and decide it was time for a break. I walked through the office and said good morning to Lisa, Terri and Jasmine. I even made a slight detour so that I could walk by Jason’s cubicle and say good morning. On the way to the rest room I noticed that the lights were dark in all of the lawyer’s offices. When I returned, I made it a point to stop by Lisa’s desk. "I don’t see any lights on in the other lawyer’s office. Am I missing a meeting?"

"Not to worry. None of them show up until 9:00."

"I thought work hours started at 8:00," I said.

"Not for lawyers. They might work later than most, but they certainly don’t start at the same time that we do."

"And nobody says anything?" I asked.

"What can they do? Sue them?" She shrugged her shoulders and went back to her computer. As I walked away I noticed she was looking at a Hollywood gossip site. In fact, I walked through the office area and noticed that not one of the girls looked like she was actually working. I went to the kitchenette, got my coffee and went back to my office … and my work.

And I did work. About 9:30 I heard a few hellos out in the office as some of the other lawyers began to arrive. None of them stuck their head in the door to say ‘morning. All of the other lawyers were men. I was starting to wonder if I would be the ‘odd-girl-out’. I quickly decided that I would do everything I could to keep that from happening. I left my office and walked by every lawyer’s office and poked my head in to say good morning. I think I surprised a couple of them.

No one bothered me for the rest of the morning. At noon, Jasmine knocked on my door. "Lunch time," she announced. "Are you going to join us?"

"Sure thing," I said. "Give me a minute first. I have to make a stop." I stopped by the rest room, finished my business, freshened my lipstick and met the girls by Lisa’s desk.

"So how is it going?" Jasmine asked.

"Ok. I’m still looking through the files that Mr. Pearson gave me yesterday. I’m only about one third of the way through the stack."

"Well that’s why you get the big bucks," Terri said.

We all went through the lunch line and sat down at our usual table. "Did you see Linda this morning?" Lisa asked.

"Who’s Linda?" I asked.

"She’s the office bimbo in advertising," Jasmine said.

"Yea, I saw her," Terri said. "Jenny came by and said Linda had the god-ugliest blouse you’ve ever seen. See-through fuchsia. I had to go check it out. It was hideous. She had a black bra and no cami. Pathetic. I thought I was going to barf." She made a motion of poking her finger down her throat.

"That’s what I heard," said Lisa. "I can’t believe Nadine didn’t send her home."

"So who is she chasing?" asked Terri.

"Rumor has it, some married guy. McInnis, McGinnis or something like that."

"What happened to her last paramour?"

"Probably still getting penicillin shots." All three laughed. I did too. It was mean, but kind of funny.

"So Karen, what did you learn yesterday?"

"About what?"

"You know, Jason. Is he gay?"

"I noticed that you guys were sitting awful close together," Jasmine teased.

"Come on, is he gay or is … he … gay?" Terri emphasized her last three words.

"I don’t know. I don’t think so."

"What do you mean, you don’t know?"

"Didn’t you ask him?" They all laughed.

"Yea right, I’m just going to come out and say, "By the way Jason, you gay?’ "

"Sure."

"Why not? Don’t be bashful. Be forceful. That’s how you get ahead in this company."

"Well, to be honest I was working my way towards asking if he had a girlfriend or anything, but I got thrown off the track."

"How?"

"I was asking if he had any siblings, and he told me about his autistic sister."

"Oh." That quieted them for a moment.

Just then, Jason came walking down the aisle and passed our table. "Hi," he said.

We returned his salutation. As he passed our table Jasmine said, "Look at that ass. He’s swishing. He’s gay."

I turned around in my chair to look at him go by. I never saw his butt, because I noticed the stud at the table two behind us. He saw me looking and gave me a brief smile. I snapped a neck muscle as I twisted around back to my table.

"It does look a little swishy," Lisa said. "I have to admit, he has one of the cutest little noses that I’ve ever seen. But I’m just not sure, Jasmine."

"No doubt, no doubt. Right Terri?"

"Absolutely."

"Karen?" I didn’t answer. "Yoo hoo! Karen? Are you still with us?"

"Who’s that guy two tables behind us?" I had only seen a glimpse of him, but his eyes were beautiful.

"Which one?" Lisa asked.

"Two tables behind me and looking this way."

"Ooooh," whispered Jasmine. "Mikey from sales."

"And who is Mikey?"

"He’s single," Terri teased.

"Again," said Lisa.

‘No!"

"Yep. I think it lasted less than a year. Rumor is he isn’t exactly home material. The dog likes to get off the porch and roam."

"Woof, woof,"

"I wonder how big that dog is?" Everyone broke out laughing.

I was intrigued. Those eyes were beautiful. "Where might the sales department be located?" I asked.

Jasmine rolled her eyes and grinned. "Girl, you’ve only been here one day and your sniffing around already?"

"Absolutely not," I said. "I’m just making sure that I don’t accidentally wander through the wrong part of this building." Jasmine almost choked.

The rest of the afternoon my mind kept wandering back to those eyes. I worked until 7:00 P.M. before I went home and made myself a TV dinner.

The next day I arrived at 7:00 and surfed the news outlets until 7:45, and then dug into my pile of files. John Taylor, my immediate boss called around 9:00 and asked if I could meet with him at 10:00. We spent the rest of the morning prioritizing my cases. I was hoping to be asked to join him for lunch, but he never asked. So I asked him. "Are you going to the cafeteria for lunch?"

He brushed me off. "I’m sorry, I’ll be working through lunch today. I have a huge back log." I decided he could come in before 9:00 if he had that much of a backlog. He left each night before I did. I went to lunch with the girls, but I made it a point to come back as early as possible to see if he was really working through lunch. He wasn’t anywhere in sight.

The rest of my week went by fast. The routine was about the same. Friday, Jasmine asked if I wanted to join her for a drink at the bar across the street. I had nothing else to do, and so I agreed. "Great, I’ll stop and get you about 5:30. There is no need to get there too early."

At 5:20, Jasmine picked me up and we strolled across the street to Malloy’s ‘Old Style’ Tavern. I thought Old Style had something to do with the décor. I found out it was a new micro-brewery beer. So what the heck, I tried a ‘new’ Old-Style. We found a booth near the back and sat down. We had just begun rating the men, when I saw him. Mikey was there. I lost track of the conversation and Jasmine notice immediately.

"Who is he?" as she turned around to look. "Oh." She picked him out right away. "Well, how are you going to move on him?"

"Who?"

"Duh. Do I look that ignorant?"

"I don’t know. What do I do?"

"Let me see." She slid out of the booth and sat down on my side of the booth. She slid next to me. "Let me watch for a minute." We watched him as he talked with a couple of guys. Every once in a while they would laugh and then each of them would take a quick glance around at the crowd. It was hard to tell if they were looking to see who was there, or looking to see who was watching them. There were obviously some large egos in action.

"He’s talking with two other sales guys. I think the one on the left is married. I’m not sure."

"Do you know anything about him?"

Jasmine slid a little closer to me. She patted me on the back of my hand and then left her hand on mine. "I can find out anything in this company. It might take a couple of days, and I might have to kill a few people, but I can do it."

I started laughing. "Don’t kill anyone on my account. Only if they deserve it."

"What do you want to know?"

"Only the basics; height, weight, mother’s maiden name and the size of his … bank account."

"Ah yes. Just the basics. Well, it’s going to cost you."

"How much?" I asked.

"For starters, can you give me a ride home tonight?"

"I’m not sure that’s a wise idea."

"Why?"

"The rust might stain your skirt."

She grasped my hand, almost as if we were holding hands, and wiggled it back and forth. "I’ll take the chance if it is ok with you. How’s your drink? Would you like another? I’ll buy."

"Sure."

Jasmine squeezed me on the shoulder as she slipped out of the booth and headed towards the bar. Then I received the shock of the night. Mikey walked over to my table. "Hi, I’m Mike Nichols. I’ve seen you around the office this week. Are you our new hot-shot lawyer?’

I was a bit flustered. "I don’t know about the hot-shot part, but I am new to the company."

"I’ld like to welcome you to the company. May I buy you a drink?"

"Yea. Oh wait, no." I really was flustered. "I have a drink coming."

"I’m sorry to hear that. I was looking forward to buying you a drink. Could I at least ask you your name?"

"I’m sorry. I’ve forgotten my manners. I’m Karen Marlowe, and I extended my hand. Where do you work Mr. Nichols?"

"Sixth floor, sales department. I’m responsible for international sales."

"Really? Do you travel overseas?"

"A little bit. I usually make two trips a year to Europe and one or two to Asia. Are you a traveler?"

"Unfortunately, no. I’d love to go to Europe, but so far my traveling has been limited to Six Flags." Just as the conversation was starting to show some promise, Jasmine returned. She handed me my drink and sat down next to me. "Have you met?" I asked. They both gave a negative head shake. "Mike Nichols, this is Jasmine. Jasmine works with me in the law department."

They shook hands. There was a short, awkward silence and then Mike decided to back away. "Well, I should get back to my friends. It was nice meeting you Jasmine, and Karen welcome to our company. I hope I see more of you."

Nice double entendre I thought. "It was nice meeting you also. I’d like to see more of you also." I gave him a nice smile. He smiled and shook his head. We both understood. He gave me a quick wave and walked back to his friends.

Jasmine gave me a sly smile. "Couldn’t wait for me? You had to go out and do your own reconnaissance?"

"The opportunity presented its self and I acted upon it."

We spent another hour at the tavern, had another drink and then I hit my limit. It had been a long week and I wasn’t used to the pace. I was tired and the three beers that I had drunk were enough to put me under. I decided that I had better give Jasmine a ride home while I still could.

We walked back to my rust-bucket and the air helped wake me up. Jasmine gave me directions as I took her home. When we arrived at her home, she reached over and squeezed my leg. Then she rubbed my leg a couple times and said, "Thanks, Karen. See you on Monday."

It took me another 45 minutes to drive home. I decided that I had to start looking for my own apartment. Something closer to work. I walked in the door just as Gloria was walking out. "I’m going to Glitter. Want to join me?"

"Sorry, I’m beat." I made my self a quick salad and crawled into bed.

 
 
CHAPTER THREE
 
 

Monday morning I arrived at my desk and laid the Sunday paper out. I started going through the apartments-for-rent section, hi-liting or circling the ads that looked promising. My desk was covered with the papers and my notes, when I tried to log onto the computer to search one of the web sites that were mentioned. The computer couldn’t find anything out in the virtual world. My connection or something was dead.

I called Jason and asked him to come help. Jason arrived and said, "Good morning. What’s the problem?"

"I tried to pull up a web site on local apartments but nothing comes up. I tried a couple of my bookmarks and they’re all dead, too."

Jason walked behind my desk and sat down. "Let’s start over. I’ll reboot and log on as the administrator and see what happens." He shut down the computer and then had to wait a couple of minutes while it went through its normal re-boot protocol. He looked at all of the papers spread across my desk. "Are you looking for a new apartment?"

"Yea. I need something closer to work."

"When you’re ready to move, let me know. I’d be glad to help you."

I didn’t know what to say. Most people don’t volunteer that quickly for work. "Thanks, I don’t have much to move, but I’ll keep you in mind."

"Everyone thinks they don’t have much to move until they actually start boxing stuff and getting ready. Then you’re always surprised at how much more junk there really is. Keep me in mind. I really wouldn’t mind helping you."

The computer came up and Jason started diagnosing my problem. He only took about 5 minutes to get me up and running again.

That week I began to form my routine. I came in well before the other employees. Jason was usually second in, but almost a half hour after me. I would surf the net for news and entertainment items. I usually had lunch with the girls, and they spent the lunch hour gossiping and tearing down everyone else in the company. Their favorite targets were Linda in advertising, and Jason the ‘queer’.

I tried to get the other lawyers to recognize that I was actually employed at the same company as they were. Not a single one of them ever invited me to lunch. I tried to invite them on several occasions, and only once did anyone of them join me.

In the afternoon, Jason usually stopped by and asked if I wanted to walk down the hall to the vending machines and get a soft drink. More often than not he volunteered to buy me a drink. Jasmine would stop in several times a day to say hello or drop off some work. She would usually stay and talk a few minutes. But other than that, no one bothered with me. I was feeling ignored. I was not making friends very fast.

On Thursday, Mikey stopped by. He knocked on my door late in the afternoon. "Hey, anyone home?"

"Come in. I haven’t seen you in a while. Been busy?"

"Yea. I had to make a quick overnight trip to New York on Tuesday. They keep you busy around here."

"Yea, I guess so."

"So how are you doing? Getting into the swing of things?"

"Pretty much. I’m still doing my initial review on several of my cases, but I’m working my way towards the bottom of the pile."

"Good, I’m sure you’ll get on top of everything soon enough," and he gave me a devilish grin. I caught his meaning. "So, I was wondering."

"You were? I’m glad to see that you’re inquisitive."

"Yea, well it keeps me going. But what I was really wondering about is whether or not you might be free on Saturday night?"

"Lawyers are never free. But some times we are a bargain."

He actually chuckled at that joke. "Well yea, I was looking for a bargain. I was wondering if you might be interested in dinner. Maybe we could go dancing or catch a show afterwards. Whatever you prefer."

"Sure, I think I can find some free time. Dancing might be fun."

"Well, … ahh … good. What say I pick you up around 6:00?"

"That sounds fine."

He sighed a breath of relief. "So where do I pick you up?"

I gave him my address and he left for his office. I was feeling great. Finally, I was getting some social life. It wasn’t two minutes after Mikey left and Jasmine came to my office. "You look like you’re smiling. Catch a mouse?"

"Maybe."

"Well, I hope it wasn’t a rat." That comment threw me. "Did he ask you out on a date?"

"Yep. Saturday night. Dinner and dancing."

"Oooh, that sounds nice. Does that mean your dance card is open for Friday?"

"I guess so. We could stop for a drink across the street if you want."

"I was thinking of another spot, about two blocks away, Bridgette’s. Does that sound ok?"

"Sure. What time?"

"5:30 ok?"

And so I had two nights planned for the upcoming weekend. Life was getting even better.

It ended up being an interesting weekend. Bridgette’s was a girl’s bar. It was becoming apparent that Jasmine had another agenda. We took a booth away from the bar and the busy area of the bar. She bought the drinks and after the second drink, joined me on my side of the booth. We faced the front of the bar and she kept a running dialog about the girls coming in the front door. She made a point of patting my hand or knee, or rubbing against my shoulder as we talked.

I had lived with a lesbian for a couple of years. I never had any type of quarrel with anyone’s lifestyle. But I was not attracted to Jasmine. Yet, I couldn’t say no to her. I couldn’t come out and say ‘Stop, I’m not interested’. I know I was leading her on with no intention of getting together with her, but I was afraid to say no. I needed her as a friend at work. My social life was thin as it was. I couldn’t afford to lose anyone at this time. Or so I thought. So, although I didn’t actually encourage her, I didn’t stop her.

We had dinner at the bar, just sandwiches and fries. We stayed until about 10:00. Jasmine asked for a ride home and I obliged. When we arrived at her apartment she invited me in for a night cap. I was ready for her. I had begun leading her on at Bridgette’s that I was starting my period. I told her I was feeling ‘pre-menstrual’ and I just wasn’t in the mood for a drink. I was going to have to be more elusive in the future if I wanted to keep her friendship, but not have to bed her.

Saturday wasn’t much better. I was infatuated with Mikey, his eyes were gorgeous. But he seemed to be just as interested in his ego as he was in me. But like I said, I was infatuated. We went to a great restaurant, and Mikey put out the bucks. Shrimp cocktails, lobster, expensive wine and chocolate death. Then we went to a local club that was also upscale. Mikey was a pretty good dancer. But all through the night he always managed to run into old girl friends and guy friends. He had no problem leaving me hanging for 5 or 10 minutes as he talked with his old buddies.

At least he wasn’t quite as pushy as Jasmine at the end of the night. He asked if I wanted to stop by his apartment and I declined. He only asked once and didn’t bring it up again. When he dropped me off at my apartment he managed to hang around trying for an invite. I used my ‘premenstrual’ excuse on him and he politely accepted it. He asked if I had a nice evening and I admitted that I had. "Maybe we could do something again next weekend?"

"Sure," I encouraged him.

Sunday I got serious about apartment hunting. I made a few calls and drove over to two apartments. I liked the first one that I saw, and began negotiating. After all, isn’t that what lawyers do? On Monday I was back at work and sending over personal information for the apartment manager to check out. By Thursday I had been accepted. Jasmine again asked me out on Friday night, and I had the perfect excuse. I had to go close the deal on my apartment before I lost it to someone else. I asked for a raincheck and she gladly obliged me. I had made it a point to remain polite and friendly with her all week, but I tried not to get alone with her.

Jason was still the only man in my department who would give me more than the time of day. I was getting to the point where I found him in mid-afternoon and asked him to walk down and get a soft drink. I mentioned that I had found an apartment. "When will you be moving in?" he asked.

"Not this weekend but next weekend."

"Would you like some help moving in? I would be happy to help."

I was hoping to get Mikey to help me. "Thanks, but I’m not sure if I’ll need help. Can I let you know next week? Is that too late for your schedule?" I had a strong hunch that Jason’s weekends weren’t booked very full.

"Sure he said. I’ll check back with you on Monday. Ok?"

"Ok."

Mikey and I went out again on Saturday. Again he took me to a very nice restaurant. And he did pay more attention to me. We didn’t run into nearly as many old friends, and I made sure by insisting on going to a dance club in my old neighborhood. Not Glitter, but one of the straight clubs. He didn’t have any friends in that neighborhood.

As the evening wore on, I was pleased with his attention and demeanor. I was starting to melt a little bit, and I even thought that I might take him tonight. Then I asked him if he could help me move next weekend. Nope. Too busy. Plans with his buddies. Golfing or some other garbage. I was pissed. It was obvious that he sure wasn’t ready for any commitment. And so neither was I. I did give in and give him a goodnight kiss. It was almost a goodnight handshake, but I was still interested in him. I thought he still had potential, so I didn’t slam the door shut.

I arrived at work on Monday, still peeved at Mikey. Jason arrived around 7:30 and he immediately came to my office. "Morning. Have a nice weekend?"

"It was ok," I answered half-heartedly. "How about you?"

"Boring. My brother was in town and I didn’t do much."

"Sorry to hear that."

"I was checking back to see if you needed any help moving this weekend."

"Thanks, it’s really nice of you to offer. Yes I could use some help. Do you mind?"

"Not at all. That’s why I’m here. When do you want to move?"

"Early Saturday, ok? Say 9:00 or 10:00?"

"I can be there at 9:00. Where do you live?" I told him, then he added, "By the way, I don’t have a car. All I can offer is a willing back."

"That would be great, I’ll take it." He smiled and returned to his desk. He really was a nice kid. At lunch the girls were still putting him down behind his back. I probably should have said something, but the girls were the only people who even acknowledged my existence at work. So I kind of played along with them. Jasmine was probably the meanest. She was constantly calling him swishy and sissy. She made fun of his clothes and how he talked. I thought Lisa, being the office manager, should have said something, but she let it continue, and she actually threw in a few insults herself.

I continued to try to break into the old-boys club, but I was having no luck. The other lawyers always split for lunch and I never earned an invitation. I was starting to get the message — ‘No girls allowed’. Mikey never showed up all week. I guess he didn’t want to take a chance on having to help me move. The only person who could talk nicely to me and not insult others was Jason. And Jason wasn’t the person I was interested in.

But Jason was the only person who showed up on Saturday. Jason arrived exactly on time. "Good morning," he said as he presented me with cinnamon rolls.

"Wow, thanks," I responded a bit flabbergasted. "You didn’t have to bring anything."

"It makes the morning a bit more tolerable." I poured us each a cup of coffee and we ate the rolls. He was in a hurry to get started so we began taking boxes down to the mini-van that I had rented. The first load was primarily the small boxes of clothes and dishes. Jason took the passenger seat and I drove us over to my new apartment. The new apartment complex had a 4-wheel cart, which made life much easier. We would load the cart and run it up to the fourth floor and drop off the boxes and then head down for the next load. The unloading went mush faster than the loading part.

I gave Jason a quick tour before we went down for our second load. He was duly impressed and I was happy that with his response. After all, I was a high-paid lawyer now, so I should have a nice large apartment. We finished with the first load and then went back to my old apartment and loaded the larger items; bed, dresser, sofa and my stereo system. There wasn’t much else because I didn’t have very much. A third trip to handle another load of boxes finished our moving part. Jason stayed around and helped me put the bed back together and also helped me set up my computer and stereo systems. He did know his way around electronics.

By 4:00 we pretty much had everything assembled, put in place or put away. Jason was walking around, surveying our job when he walked into the spare bedroom. "There is nothing in here," he said to the echo. "What are you going to do with this room?"

"I don’t know. Knowing me, I’ll eventually have it filled with garbage that I should throw away. But since I have the extra room, I know I’ll keep stuff that I shouldn’t. Eventually it will get pretty cluttered, I’m sure."

I wanted to thank Jason for his help so I asked him to dinner. "No, that’s alright. You don’t have to buy me a thing. I enjoyed helping."

"I insist. It’s just going to be a sandwich and beer ok?"

"I guess that will be ok."

We locked up and walked a block down the street to a local corner tavern. We took a seat at the bar and both ordered a beer. We asked for a menu and placed our orders. "So Jason, what do you do for fun and recreation?"

"Not much. I’m taking care of my parent’s house, so I spend most of my weekends mowing grass and fixing odds and ends around the house."

"No girl friend?"

"Not yet." He was rather quiet and didn’t say anything for a couple of minutes. We sat and nursed our beers.

"So how did you end up taking care of your parent’s home?"

"Mom and dad took Kara, that’s my sister, to a home in Wisconsin. She’s autistic and needs extra help. Rather than just dump her at the home, mom and dad bought a house nearby and visit Kara every day. They moved up there about 2 years ago. So my brother and I stayed in my parents house so we could both finish school. We both finished high school and then I started at the local vocational school. After graduating I started here at our company."

"What about your brother?"

"He’s a year younger than me. He finished high school then he got a job as a surveyor. A friend of my dad’s down the street got him the job. He didn’t actually do the surveying, he held the pole and measured things. His company went around the country surveying high power lines for the local utilities. They traveled all over the country. He left on a Tuesday and worked through the weekend and returned the following Friday. So he worked 10 days on and then got 4 days off."

"Sounds like an interesting set up."

"It was. I had the house all to myself for almost two weeks at a time. When he came home he usually was off with his buddies and rarely stayed at the house."

"So you’re at home alone for two weeks at a time?"

"Pretty much. It gives me a chance to work around the house and play with my hobby."

"You didn’t say what your hobby was."

He was quiet for a couple moments and then said, "I like to work on the computer. I have a personal web site where I post pictures and have a blog and diary."

"Really? What’s the address, I’d like to visit it."

"Ahhh … it’s kind of personal, and pretty lame. I’d rather not tell anyone."

"But you already put it out there for the public to see."

"But it’s anonymous. People who stumble across it have no idea who I really am. I’d rather keep it personal."

"Ok, it’s your web site."

He was quiet for a couple moments, then said, "But anyway, that might be over pretty soon."

"What do you mean?"

"My brother lost his job, contracts came up, and he can’t find anything else. He’s probably going to join the army."

"That’s too bad. The economy is tough. It took me 3 months to land this job."

"Yea, its tough out there." He turned quiet and didn’t say much more.

We had a second beer and finished our meal. I thanked Jason for the help and he said goodnight and started towards the bus stop. I had forgotten my manners. "Jason, can I give you a ride home?"

"Not to worry, it’s a long way out and not necessary. I’ll see you Monday. G’night."

I used Sunday to return the mini-van and finish settling into my new apartment. I was really going to like it. Monday arrived and things were back to normal. At lunch the girl’s quizzed me on my new apartment. "Did Mikey help you move in?" Jasmine asked.

"Nope, he was too busy with his buddies," I said sarcastically.

"They’re all like that," she said. "They’re only interested in one thing."

"Did you get some help from someone?" Lisa wanted to know.

"Jason was nice enough to offer to help."

"The little gay boy?" Jasmine still liked to rag on him.

"He was really nice and helpful."

"So did he tell you he’s gay?"

"No he didn’t, and no I don’t think he is."

"Does he have a girl friend?"

"I asked, and he said no."

"He’s gay," they all agreed.

"Swish, swish, swish," Jasmine added.

And that’s about how the week proceeded. Mikey asked for another date on Saturday, and I agreed. After dinner and a show he took me home. He asked if he could see my new apartment. I agreed and took him up for a quick look around. Then it was almost impossible to get him out. It was mostly my fault. I was sending mixed signals. We had a nice night and I was almost ready to go to bed with him, but at the last minute I got cold feet. It was only our third date and I was still angry with him about not helping me move. I chased him out after Saturday Night Live was over

The following Monday, Jason wandered into my office about 9:00. "Have a nice weekend?"

"I guess it was ok," I said. "Nothing much to brag about. How about you."

"Well, it wasn’t very good."

"I’m sorry to hear that. What happened?"

"My parents called. I am going to have to move out and find a new place to live."

"That’s too bad." I said sincerely. "Why do you have to move?"

"They sold the house. I kind of knew this was coming. Eventually. But I didn’t expect it yet. The house has been on the market for 4 months, and only two couples have ever looked at it. But I guess they made an offer and mom and dad accepted. I have to move out by next weekend."

"But I thought they were letting you and your brother stay there?"

"They were, but they always said it was just until we were out of school. I guess they need the money. It’s expensive to take care of Kara. The government doesn’t give you much help. My brother lost his job and now he’s going into the army. So it works out rather well for them. I’m the only one displaced."

"Have you started looking for an apartment yet?"

"No." His tone of voice said it all. He was really down in the dumps. "I don’t have any savings and so I can’t afford the security deposit most places want. Once I get moved in to some place, I might be ok. They don’t pay paralegals very much around here." He gave me a sheepish grin. "But mom and dad said that as soon as the house deal closes, they’ll give my brother and me each $10,000. I’ll be able to get started on that. The only problem is that it will probably take a month or so for everything to get closed and finalized."

"What are you going to do until then?"

"I have some friends down the street. Actually, they’re old friends of mom and dad’s. They have a spare room over their garage and they’ll let me stay there for only $50 per week. And there is no security deposit."

"That sounds good," I said.

"But I have a big favor to ask," he said while looking at the floor and twiddling his fingers.

"If I can help, I’ll be glad to do whatever I can," and I gave him an encouraging smile.

"Well … ahhh …"

"Just ask."

"You’ve got a spare bedroom with some empty space. Would it be ok if I stored a few boxes there until I get into my own apartment?"

"Of course. How many?"

"A dozen or so. And would it also be ok if I left a bed and dresser set?"

"Absolutely. It’ll make my bedroom look like I own more furniture. Yea Jason, we can do that. When do you want to move your things over?"

"Is this weekend ok?"

"Not a problem," I told him. "Do you need help with the actual moving?"

"I could use some help with the bulky items like the mattress and dresser."

"Ok, do you want me to come over to your house on Saturday morning."

"No that won’t be necessary. I have to rent a van to haul the things, so I’ll stop by and pick you up. Say 9:00 A.M.?"

"That works for me. It’s a date." His eyes lit up and he was looking much better. I knew how it was to have no money, so I was glad to help him out. After all, he had helped me.

That weekend Mikey was on one of his trips to Europe so I had no date on Saturday. That would make things easier. Jasmine again asked me out on Friday night. I had a good excuse this time. I had joined a study group of old friends from school. We were helping each other prepare for our board exams. The exams were only one week away and we were meeting 5 nights a week. Jasmine seemed satisfied with the excuse. But she knew Mikey was out of town, so she asked about Saturday night. I told her I was helping Jason move and I had no idea when we would finish.

"The gay boy?" she said.

"Jason. I don’t think he is gay. Besides, he was the only one who helped me move, so I owe him." That quieted her.

Saturday morning Jason arrived right on time and with cinnamon rolls. We had a cup of coffee with our rolls before we left for his house. It was almost a 45 minute drive through town. He backed the van into the driveway and we went inside. His parents were waiting for us. "Karen, this is my mother Janice and my father Jerry."

"It’s a pleasure to meet you both," I said

"The pleasure is ours," his mother said. "Its so nice of you to help Jason. He can really use the help."

"That’s right," said Jerry. "He can always use a friend. He’s not like his brother."

I wondered what in the world that was all about. Jason was turning a bit red, and he ended the conversation by suggesting that we begin loading the dresser. His father helped him take it out and slide it into the van. Next they took out the bed frame and then the box springs and finally the mattress. That filled the van.

"Can the two of you handle unloading this? Do you want me to come along and help?"

"That’s not necessary dad. Karen’s apartment has a large 4-wheel cart and we can slide everything onto the cart. It won’t be a problem." Jason almost looked relieved when his dad agreed to stay behind.

We climbed in the van and started back to my place. "Your parents seem nice." I was trying to make conversation. He shrugged his shoulders and said nothing. So I started asking about his old neighborhood and his youth. He didn’t want to talk about that either. He grunted to a couple of my questions and that was that. He seemed to be in a pretty lousy mood.

"Its tough moving out isn’t?"

"Sort of. It was easy enough staying at home. But there are some things that I won’t miss."

"Like what?" I was trying to keep a conversation going.

"Stuff," and that ended that conversation. So we drove back to my apartment in silence.

It took us the better part of an hour to unload the van. The mattress and box springs were taken up one at a time and they were very bulky and difficult to maneuver around corners and on the elevator. We left them leaning against a wall in the spare bedroom while we went and got the dresser. It was heavier than the mattress and box springs, but not as bulky and flimsy. It rolled up much easier. The bed frame was in pieces and it was the easiest.

"Do you want to set up the bed now, or do you want to finish getting your other things," I asked.

"Let’s do this later. I’d like to finish up at my house if we can."

By the time we drove back to his house it was almost 1:00. He had dozens of boxes piled up in the family room. They were heavily taped and stacked to one side. We started carrying them to the van, and they were fairly light. "Are these clothes?" I asked.

"Mostly."

"You must have a large wardrobe. You must be quite the clothes horse," I quipped.

"Well there’s a few other items, like towels and sheets," he said defensively.

After the clothes we loaded his computer, CD collection and a few other items. "Aren’t you going to need your computer at your other place? What will you do for entertainment at night?"

"I’ve got another computer," he said. "In fact, I have 3. Plus I have a small TV. I’ll be alright."

We finished packing the van at 2:30. And it was packed! "Before you go, I’ve made a light lunch," his mother announced. "Karen, do you like tuna fish?"

"Yea, that would be great." Jason rolled his eyes at his mom, but showed me the way to the bathroom so I could wash my hands.

Lunch was delicious but at the same time it was like a horror movie. I have never heard parents belittle one child and brag about another like the Vails did. They were horrendous. I can’t even put some of their put-downs on paper. Son number one, Jason, had no talent, no intelligence and no friends. Son number two, William, was a star jock, Homecoming king, and loved by all. Actually, William must not have been all that smart. He didn’t get any scholarships and went to work straight out of high school. Eventually, a lousy economy and a miserable administration stranded him in the army.

I felt so sorry for Jason. His parents treated him like a leper and non-entity. His only claim to fame was he was William’s brother. They talked about him like he was not even present. His autistic sister won more praise than Jason. I heard the story how Jason embarrassed himself in a swimming meet when he was only 8. I learned about the time his pants split open during at school play at the age of 9. He never had a date in his life. He was so uncoordinated he was always picked last in school gym. The neighborhood boys called him sissy and used to beat him up all the time. He must have came home with a bloody nose every other day.

I was horrified. I was shocked. I looked at Jason and he just slid lower and lower in his chair. I couldn’t wait to get out of the house. I left half of my sandwich and refused dessert. I claimed that I had a study date that night and we had to get moving quickly.

It was distinctly obvious why Jason was so shy and why he had so little self-esteem. He spent an entire childhood being destroyed by his parents. I couldn’t for the life of me understand why they did it to him. The only thing I could think of was his lack of physical ability. His dad was athletic looking, and many of his comments centered around athletics. He must have influenced the mother to also think son number one was a failure because he wasn’t athletic. And his younger, athletic brother probably made everything worse.

Jason said almost nothing on the drive over to my house. I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t very well say ‘Your parents are ass-holes’. I thought I would give Jason some additional attention that night. "Jason, can you do me a favor?"

"Sure," he sniffed.

"Stop at the next 7-11. I’d like to pick up a few things. We’ll need some refreshments as we put your bed together and get your other stuff stowed away."

He shocked me when he became even more defensive. "No that’s ok. Please, just leave my stuff in the boxes. I’ll be moving into my new apartment in no time and I don’t want to unpack and re-pack. Besides, I don’t want to waste your time. Please, don’t bother. Its ok, really," he stammered.

"That’s ok, we can keep your boxes stowed. But I would like to set up your bed and organize the bedroom so that it looks like a guest room, or at least semi-finished. That’s all. Is that ok?"

"Yea, I guess that will be ok. Really, I appreciate you letting me store my stuff here, and I don’t want to be a bother."

"Jason, can I say something very mean?"

He seemed stunned, and even more defensive. "Why?" he almost cried out.

"Because it needs to be said. You’re parents are ass-holes. I’m sorry, but the things they said about you were totally unacceptable. It was like they were deliberately trying to hurt you. Nobody, I mean nobody, should have to suffer that from their own parents. It was like they hated you and they were trying to poison me against you also. I hated hearing what they were saying about you."

Jason remained quiet. He looked straight ahead as he continued to drive. I could see him bite his lower lip.

"Jason, I’m sorry to say bad things about your parents." I remained quiet for a moment, waiting to see if he would say anything. He remained quiet. "Jason, I want you to know that I am your friend. I have totally forgotten what your parents said, and I promise that I will never repeat anything they said. He did give me a sideway glance. There was a 7-11 coming up on the right side of the road. He pulled in and parked the car.

"What kind of beer do you like?" I asked.

"I like MGD." I bought a six-pack and some microwave popcorn, and Jason drove us to my apartment.

We arrived at my place and we unloaded the van. "Do you have to take the van back tonight I asked?"

"I’ll save some money if I do," he explained.

"Ok, I’ll follow you over to the rental agency and give you a ride back. Ok?"

He finally smiled a little. "Yea, I’d appreciate that. Thanks."

We turned in the car, and he even talked a bit on the way back to my place. When we returned I opened a beer and handed it to him. "How about you show me how to put your bed together." We put the bed together and stacked the boxes neatly in the closet and against the wall. I went and got come some sheets and a comforter and we made up the bed. I put a set of doilies on the dresser and stepped back. It looked habitable if need be.

Than I did something out of the clear blue. I didn’t even think about what I was saying. It ended up being one of the best things I ever did. How ironic, considering some of the things I would do in the future. "Jason, would you like to spend the evening here? You can use your own bed. What do you think?"

I’ve never seen a face go from death and gloom to smiles so fast in my entire life. He tried to belie his enthusiasm and act incredulous that I would even ask something like that. "I’m not sure that I can impose on you after everything that you have done for me."

It was obvious how much the offer meant to him. It was impossible for him to hide his enthusiasm. "Sure you can stay, and I will not discuss it any longer. How about we pop some of that popcorn and see what’s on the tube?" The huge smile beaming across his face said it all. I actually felt proud of myself.

 
 
CHAPTER FOUR
 
 

Monday morning, I arrived a bit after 7:00 and Jason came in about 7:30. I heard him out in the bullpen area, shuffling around and turning on additional lights. About 5 minutes later he came into my office and placed a small vase with two roses on my desk. He stood back and smiled.

"What’s this all about?" I asked.

"It’s just a little thank you for helping out this weekend. It meant a lot to me."

I smiled. I felt proud of myself. Amazing considering how much time we girls would spend tearing him apart behind his back. That thought made me feel a bit of shame. "Jason, I’m glad I could help." He walked out of my office about six inches taller than when he came in.

Sure enough, at lunch Jasmine brought up my weekend and asked how my Saturday with Jason had gone. She was particularly mean. "Did he have a lot of dolls to move? Do his Barbie dolls have a large wardrobe? Does he have the Malibu Barbie beach house? Does he sleep with his teddy bear? Did you see his jammies? Do they have feet in them?"

That last question got a pretty good laugh from all of the girls, even me. It was mean, I know it, but I was back with the girls. I was reverting back into their mentality. I wasn’t proud of myself, but I laughed. They were the only social group I had any contact with. I felt that I needed them, so I succumbed to my baser emotions.

Monday afternoon was a first. Mikey came to my office and asked me out Wednesday night. I thought that maybe he was getting serious. But his timing was bad. This was the week for my board exams. I was going to take an extra day of vacation for studying and then two days to take the boards and decompress. I made a counter offer for Saturday. He accepted.

Saturday came and he picked me up at 7:00 P.M. He took me to a very upscale restaurant and we had a scrumptious meal. They had a piano bar and we decided to stay there and have a cocktail after dinner. Mikey was very charming and humorous. He told me a bit about his childhood and some stories from his latest international business trips. I was favorably impressed with him. And I was horny.

I decided that I would take him home and sleep with him. When he took me home, I asked him to come up to my apartment. When we arrived, I put on some soft music and offered him a bit of wine. We sat on the sofa and immediately began kissing. Kissing soon turned into pawing and petting, followed by the slow removal of various bits and pieces of clothing. I was getting turned on and so was he. I suggested that we adjourn to the bedroom where it would be a bit more comfortable.

We helped each other finish stripping and I was impressed with his size. He was the biggest man that I had ever had. We slipped into my bed, and he immediately rolled on top of me and slipped his penis inside me. I was hoping for more foreplay and attention, but I was just as excited as he was. He was big, but I was so wet he had no trouble entering me. I loved the feeling of his large penis inside me. He literally filled me up and it felt great. It took him less than 2 or 3 minutes to orgasm. After he reached orgasm he stopped his thrusting. I wasn’t finished, and I was forced to start pushing harder, which was a bit difficult under his weight. But eventually I was able to bring myself to orgasm.

After finishing, he kissed me, pulled his penis out, rolled over and immediately fell to sleep. That was it! That was the end of the evening. I was left lying there, facing the ceiling wondering what had just happened. I got out of bed and went to the bathroom. I cleaned up, put on a negligee then went to the kitchen to get a bit of juice. When I came back to bed he was snoring, oblivious to the rest of the world. ‘Just like a man’, I thought. I eventually fell asleep next to him.

The next morning he really pissed me off. I woke up at 7:00 and he was getting dressed. He leaned over and kissed me, "Gotta go, I have a tee time of 8:00. I have to hurry. I’ll call you, bye." And out the door he went. Slam, bam, thank you ma’am. I had been used and thrown away. At least that’s the way it felt. I was hot! If I had had a knife I think I would have cut off his manhood! The nerve of that son-of —a-bitch! Use ‘em and throw ‘em away! I lay in bed seething for about another half hour. I couldn’t get back to sleep. I was too angry.

I headed to the bathroom to take a nice long bath. When I reached the bathroom, things got worse. The floor was covered with water. I looked around and saw water running from the ceiling and down the wall. "God damn it!" I swore. I walked out to the living room and called the super and reported it. I changed into some old clothes, then went back to the bathroom and started mopping up the mess.

About 45 minutes later the super knocked on the front door. "Sorry for the trouble. Your upstairs neighbor put some stockings in the sink and left the water running. The stockings got caught in the over-flow drain and the sink ran over. She went to church and forgot all about the water running. Can I see the damage?"

I unlatched the door and let him in. He took a quick look at the bathroom and announced that he would have someone fix the plaster on the ceiling later in the week. "It will need to dry out before we can do anything. It ran down the wall?" he asked.

"Yea."

"And then across the floor." I shook my head yes. "Maybe we better check the adjacent room." He led me into the spare bedroom. The water had leaked under the wall and had soaked the bottom of two boxes. He helped unstack the boxes and move the two wet ones to a dry spot. He took the mop and soaked up the remaining water.

"I’d check out those boxes and make sure nothing was ruined. If it was you’ll have to check with your renter’s insurance to take care of it," he told me.

"You don’t cover damage to personal items?" I asked.

"Nope. We only insure the building and fixtures. Personal property has to be covered by your own insurance." He walked to the front door. "Again, I’m sorry for the inconvenience. We’ll probably come back on Wednesday or Thursday to fix the damage to the ceiling. I’ll let you know before we start. Have a nice day," and out the door he went.

‘Have a nice day!’ What a nice day it was shaping up to be. My boyfriend was a prick, a big prick, but a prick none-the-less. And now this. I didn’t have any renter’s insurance. I had forgotten all about it. I hoped there wasn’t anything expensive in the wet boxes.

I went to the kitchen and pulled out a steak knife and returned to the bedroom. Jason must have used half a roll of duct tape on each box. I cut through the tape on the first box, tossed the knife aside and opened the flaps. I was confused by what I saw. There was a woman’s brassiere sitting on top. That didn’t seem right at all. I lifted out the brassiere and picked up the next garment. It was a white half-slip. I took out the next garment, a full-length slip. Then a couple more half-slips, followed by some very nice camisoles. As I reached the bottom I found a dozen or more women’s panties. The panties were soaking wet. I took them into the bathroom and laid them across the shower rod and the knobs of the bathtub faucet.

This was rather interesting I thought. I wondered if they belonged to Jason’s mother and he had them by mistake. I was quickly cured of that fantasy when I opened the second box. It had a shoebox on top. I opened it and found a couple of computer disks and some pictures. They were pictures of a nice looking girl in her late teens. It looked like she was modeling clothes. In a few of the pictures she had short blonde hair, in some she had straight black hair and in others she had curly red hair. She looked a bit familiar.

I set the shoebox aside and noticed a couple of magazines. There were two magazines titled ‘Forced Womanhood’ and about 6 ‘Transformation’ magazines. A quick look showed that they were all about transvestites and crossdressing. In the bottom of the box I found a leather corset, a couple of girdles, 3 or 4 panties with built in fanny pads, 4 garter belts and two all-in-one panty-girdle-bra foundations. All of the clothes were wet, so I took them to the kitchen and hung them up.

Then I returned to the bedroom. Jason was a TV! How interesting I thought. And how appropriate. It was beginning to make sense now. I thought he was a little effeminate, but I had never pictured him as being gay. Very interesting indeed. And how intriguing! I decided to open the rest of his boxes and see what else he had.

I spent the next 3 hours snooping through all of his belongings. As I pulled sweaters and skirts and dresses and all types of female clothing out of the boxes, I noticed that I was running out of room on the bed and dresser. I decided that I had better hang up the clothes and I began placing the other items in his dresser. I didn’t want to take a chance on any more accidents.

I couldn’t believe the extensive wardrobe he had. Besides all the clothes that a girl could possibly want, he had 4 different wigs, each with its own Styrofoam head. I placed them on the upper shelf in the closet. He had over a dozen pairs of shoes; everything from sandals to knee high boots with stiletto heels. There was jewelry, purses, scarves and a nice leather winter coat. There was enough makeup for a lifetime. He had perfume, nail polish, and plenty of nail buffers and files. There were more than 30 pairs of nylons, many still in their original bags. He had thigh highs, knee highs, stockings for use with garters and many different styles and colors of pantyhose and tights. It was amazing.

In addition he had satin sheets, pillow cases and a frilly pink down comforter. It was obvious where all of his money was going. After putting his other things away, I made the bed using his sheets and comforter. They were better than anything that I had, and they did belong to his bed.

I picked up the shoebox of CDs and carried his magazines into the kitchen. I was starting to get hungry, so I made myself a sandwich and took out a beer (I had earned it) and I began flipping through his magazines. They were very amusing and often hilarious. I loved the pictures in the ‘Forced Womanhood’ magazine. In the ‘Transformation ‘ magazine, I had to admit that I was impressed by some of the girls. They looked very nice and made convincing girls. At least in the pictures.

After flipping through the magazines, I washed my dishes and went back to the living room. I took out my laptop and booted up. When it was ready, I slid in one of the CDs and pulled up the index. It was full of pictures and jpegs, text articles and many html files. I copied them over to the C drive and then slid in the next CD. He had about 15 CDs, so there were a ton of files. I sorted by file type and brought up a thumbnail screen on the pictures. I glanced at them quickly, and saw that they were like the pictures that he had printed.

When I first saw his prints it hadn’t dawned on me who was in the pictures. It never entered my mind. I didn’t see Jason in those pictures. But now that I knew, I did indeed see his features and body language. He was very good though. He looked very convincing, very feminine, very pretty. In some he tried to look too sexy, and he didn’t quite pull it off. Maybe it was a lack of experience or confidence, or maybe it was just too over the top. But there was potential in those pictures. With coaching and practice, I was confident that he could be the sex-kitten he was attempting to emulate.

I flipped through a hundred or more jpegs and then took a look at the text files. They were split about fifty- fifty between technical computer articles and fictional stories about transvestites and crossdressers. There were too many to skim through, so I just read the titles and figured out the idea behind most of them. Then I took a look at the html files. They were from his web site ‘Jasmine’s World’. Jasmine, I thought. I wondered if he had named himself (herself) after Jasmine at work. I looked at just enough files to pick up the address of his web site.

I plugged my laptop into my data line and dialed up his webpage. It was about his feminine side and was full of pictures, stories and links. It also had a biography page. That was the most interesting part. It was rather long and tended to ramble. I read it twice. It explained a lot. His brother’s job and travel gave Jasmine all the time she needed to pursue her hobby. He had been dressing since he was 6 years old. His mother had caught him when he was seven and told his father. His father ridiculed and teased him constantly about it. That explained a few things for me. No wonder his dad was such a jerk.

He only dressed at home and had never been out in public. He was very active in chat rooms and liked to hear about other girl’s episodes out in the real world. Someday he hoped to feel pretty and confident enough to venture out. Maybe someday he could make it to one of the conventions that crossdressers held across the country.

Then he mentioned his friend. Me! He even used my real name, although he spelled it incorrectly; Karin. Karin worked with him and was a real nice girl. She was beautiful (blush, blush), very feminine and best of all, very nice to him. He wished he could share his secret with her and have her accept him as he was. (Well now he had.) It was his fantasy. It might become his worst nightmare I thought. I was mad that he had used my real name. What if someone from work stumbled on this site, saw Jasmine and figured out it was really Jason and then figured out that Karin was really Karen. Not likely, but I was not in a good mood and that thought stuck in my mind.

I looked through some more of his web site and decided to take a look at his message book. There were many complimentary letters about his appearance and his site. And there were a couple of vulgar comments as well. I noticed that the vulgar messages were from the last two days only. Then it dawned on me that he probably deleted those messages when he reviewed his webpage. I looked at his links page and saw tons of links to other CD personal pages, on-line shopping sites, advocacy sites and a couple of local CD clubs.

I checked the clock on top of the TV and it said 8:00 P.M. I had spent all day going through Jason’s clothes and effects and looking at his webpage. I realized I was hungry and went to the kitchen to make some pasta.

I sat at the table and leafed through one of his magazines. I couldn’t believe that the day had disappeared on me. Then I realized that I wasn’t as angry as I had been. In spite of the water leak, and that stupid Mikey, I wasn’t feeling as ornery. I was still a bit angry, and I didn’t like having my name on Jason’s webpage, but I was feeling a bit better. Then I started thinking about Jason. I liked him a little bit, but he wasn’t a man. At best, he was a little kid. At worst he was an effeminate sissy who wanted to be treated like a girl. I felt that he was nice enough person, but of little interest to me in terms of male-female relationships.

To this day, I can’t figure out how I came to my next decision. I think it was a combination of being mad at Mikey in particular and men in general. It probably had a little to do with Jason using my name, and it probably had a lot to do with how I felt about Jason as a person and how I saw him in relation to me. Especially in his social relationship to me; I saw him as nice but inferior. I was older, had more education and a better job, better social skills and more friends, although neither one of us had that many friends. And I also felt a little sorry for him. His parents had totally destroyed his confidence and self-esteem.

I had decided to toy and tease Jason. I would give him some of what he wanted, in that I would help him enjoy his feminine wishes. But I was going to be a bit cruel about it. I was going to control him and make him do what I wanted. I was going to humiliate him a bit and titillate him a bit. I wasn’t sure how it would play out, but I knew how it was going to start. I went into my closet and found a small shopping bag from Victoria’s Secret. It had a square bottom and two looped handles on top. I went into Jason’s room and pulled open his panty drawer. I found a nice pair of high-cut, cotton panties and dropped them in the bag. I wrote a little note and dropped it in the bag, and then set the bag next to my briefcase, so that I wouldn’t forget it Monday morning.

Monday morning I arrived at the office earlier than normal. I went to Jason’s desk and put the bag in his lower desk drawer. Then I took a sticky note and wrote, ‘There is a little gift for you in your bottom desk drawer.’ I left the note on top of his desk. I went to my desk and began preparing for the day, but I was listening for Jason. He was usually the second person to arrive each morning.

About ten minutes later I heard Jason arrive and go to his desk. He saw the note on his desk and he opened his bottom desk drawer and took out the Victoria’s Secret bag and read the note. The note was written on my best stationary and said:

A pair of pretty panties for a pretty Jasmine.

Put the panties on and put your old panties in the bag.

Then come to my office and model them for me.

I would have loved to have seen his face when he read the note. I leaned back in my chair and waited to see what happened. It was about 5 minutes later that he came to my office. I heard a little tap on the door and looked up. His face was pure white. Every bit of blood had drained out and he looked like a ghost. "Hi Jason. How ya’ doing today?"

"Ok," he answered quietly. "I … ahh … found these in my desk. I think you meant to put them in Jasmine’s desk."

"Oh no," I said with a big smile. "I put them in the correct Jasmine’s desk. Did you read the note?"

"Ahhh … yea."

"Well then you know what to do. I’ll wait here for you to return. Go." He hesitated and I repeated, "Go, before the others begin to arrive." He slowly turned and walked away. As soon as he was out of earshot I began giggling. This was fun.

He returned about 5 minutes later and he was holding the bag. "Bring the bag over here," I instructed. He brought the bag and handed it to me. I set it on my desk and looked in the bag. I saw his under shorts in the bag. "Good job," I complimented him. I took the shorts out and held them up for us both to look at. "Boxers. I would have taken you for a briefs man, Jason. Oh well. Go close the door, would you please?" I asked sweetly. Jason did as he was told. "Just a sec," and I took the bag with his shorts and put them in my bottom desk drawer. "Ok, show me your panties. I want to see how they look on you."

"What?" he asked incredulously.

"You heard me honey. Drop your trousers and show me your panties," I repeated with more authority.

"But … but this isn’t right," he protested.

"I don’t care if you think its right or not sweetie, do it!" He slowly unbuckled his pants , unzipped them and then unfastened the button. He stood there holding his pants up with his hands. "Go ahead," I urged. "Let’s see."

He let his trousers slide down to his knees. I could see that he was trembling and his knees were shaking ever so perceptibly. His shirttail was rather long and was covering his panties. "Hold up your shirt so I can see your panties," I said. He lifted his shirt. I could see the panties fit nicely. I half expected to see an erection, but instead I saw nothing. He had tucked his penis between his legs.

I gave Jason a big smile. "They look very nice on you. And you look so smooth, with no unsightly bulges. Thanks for modeling them for me. You can pull your pants back up now."

He pulled his pants back up, fastened them and tucked his shirt tail back in. "Why don’t you open the door before anyone notices that we have it closed," I told him. He opened the door and took a quick look outside. "Anybody else here yet?"

"No."

"Good, then I have one more favor to ask you. Can you show me how to take this picture and make it background?" I pointed to my computer.

Without saying a word, he dutifully walked over to my side of the desk, looked at my computer screen and gasped. "Where did you get this?"

"Oh, I think you know," I teased. "Now I know I can make this into my background, but I don’t remember exactly how. I think I need to do a right hand click or something?"

"You can’t put this picture on your screen," he whined. "Somebody might see it."

"Jason, nobody will see it. The only other person besides me that ever sees this computer is you. And even if someone did accidentally see it, they wouldn’t know who it is. They would just think it was another pretty girl. Now, what do I do?"

He bent over my keyboard and started making the proper adjustments. I reached behind him and ran my hand over his bottom. I could feel the elastic in the panties as I ran my hand over them. "They fit you so well, Jason. Better than I imagined."

He quickly finished his adjustments, then stood up and stepped away from me. "There, it’s now your background. Is there anything else you need?" he asked coldly.

"No, I think that will be fine for now. Thanks Jason, you can go." As he walked out the door I watched his rear end to see if there was any swish. When he left I broke into the biggest grin and I had to fight myself to keep from laughing out loud. That had been more fun than I thought it would be. I enjoyed being in that position of power. I wished I could have done something like that to Mikey, but since I couldn’t, Jason was going to have to be his surrogate.

I smiled through the entire morning as I was working. At lunch, the real Jasmine poked her head in my office and announced the time. The usual 4 of us walked down to the cafeteria and picked up our food. We sat down and shared some small talk about the weekend, and then Jasmine hit me with the bombshell, "How was your date with Mikey?"

I wasn’t aware that she knew about the date, but I said, "It went ok. We had a nice dinner."

"Did you have a nice time afterwards?"

I was puzzled as to just exactly what she meant. "We had a nice time in the lounge."

"I mean later than that."

"What exactly do you mean?" I asked. I was becoming nervous as to where she thought she was going with this conversation. It was none of her business.

"According to Mikey, he spent the evening and the two of got to know each other much more intimately."

My heart skipped a beat and I could feel my face flush and turn warm. I immediately went on the defensive. "Who told you that?" I demanded.

"It seems that Mikey told several people that. I heard it from Janice in sales."

"Well I’m different than Mikey. I don’t talk about my personal life or spread stupid gossip." I was pissed off and ready to kill. I was mad at Mikey for being such an ass-hole, and I was even madder at Jasmine for throwing my indiscretion in my face. I finished my meal and excused myself. The other three girls gave me a smirk as I left the table.

I stomped back to my office and slammed the door shut. I threw myself into my chair and started to cry. I couldn’t believe it. I hadn’t been at this stupid company for more than a couple of weeks and my reputation was destroyed. I would have killed that Mikey right then and there. In fact, I had a couple of fantasies on how I might kill the son-of-a bitch.

It took almost 15 minutes before I could pull myself back together. I dried my tears and gathered my composure. I opened my office door and returned to my desk. I stared at the girl on my computer screen. Oh how I wished that that picture was Mikey and not Jason. Jason was going to suffer because of my anger at Mikey. I knew it wasn’t right and I couldn’t help myself. The only thing that saved Jason was the fact that he was such a nice kid. A wimp, but a nice kid. In the end, he did temper my anger but I was still going to go ahead with some of my thoughts and emotions.

Jason usually picked me up around 2:30 to go get a soft drink. But 2:30 came and went, and Jason was nowhere in sight. So I went and got him. I walked over to Jason’s desk and said, "Jason, let’s go get a drink."

"No, I’m not thirsty."

"Sure you are, come on and take a break."

"No really, I don’t think so."

"Yes I insist," I said in a low forceful voice. Then I changed to a louder and more cheerful tone, "I’m buying. Let’s go."

He reluctantly stood up and followed me out the door. When we were alone in the hall he turned to me said, "How could you? I trusted you."

"You can trust me," I replied.

"How can I do that? You obviously went through my things," he accused.

"Jason dear, I had no choice. There was a little accident."

"What do you mean an accident? What happened?"

"The people in the apartment upstairs let their sink overflow. The water ran through the ceiling and into my apartment. It got some of your boxes wet. I was worried that the water was going to damage something, so I had to open the boxes. I mean, I had no idea what was in the boxes and you never told me not to open them. But don’t worry, there was no permanent damage to anything. I had to dry out some of you panties and things, but they’ll be fine."

"How many boxes?"

"A few."

"Did you go through all of them?"

"Well that’s a funny thing," I smiled. "Once I started going through the damaged boxes, I figured that I might as well hang up and put away some of the clothes that I found. And since I had already started, I decided that I might as well put everything away. It’s much better for your clothes if they’re properly folded and hung up."

"So you went through all of my personal items?" Again he was very upset.

I decided to change the subject a bit. "Did you know that we wear the same size?" I asked. "You have some really pretty clothes, you know. Do you mind if I borrow some now and then?"

He squeezed his lips tightly together and said nothing. We had reached the vending machines and I dropped a few quarters in the pop machine, "Help your self," I said. He pushed the diet coke button. I slid in another couple of coins and retrieved a coke for myself.

‘So why are you doing this to me?"

"Doing what?" I asked innocently.

"You know damn well what," he said through clenched teeth.

"Because I can," I answered.

"So what else are you going to do?"

"I’m not sure yet," I answered honestly.

"Are you going to tell other people?"

"No." And then I thought for a couple of moments. "I don’t think so. At least not now. I guess it depends."

His eyes were wide open and showing panic. "Depends on what?"

"On you, dear."

"Me?"

"Yea. It depends on whether or not you want me to tell someone."

"No! I don’t want you to totally ruin my life. Is that clear enough?"

He had said that too forcefully for my current attitude and anger level. Not anger at Jason, but anger at the world. "And it depends on how well you behave and listen to me."

He just looked at me and then turned away. I gave him a couple of seconds to collect his thoughts, then I walked around in front of him. I softened my voice. "Jason, don’t worry. You may actually enjoy some of this." I gave him a little smile. He did not return the smile. "Shall we return to work?"

The rest of the day was difficult. I tried to work, but my mind kept drifting over to murder and torture. I wished there was some way that I could hurt Mikey as much as he had hurt me. I knew that my thinking was wrong. But I felt so stupid and vulnerable. I finished up early, about 6:00, and I packed up my briefcase, took the Victoria’s Secret bag from my desk and went to my car.

I drove home and pulled into the underground parking garage. I walked over to the elevator and pushed the button. While waiting for the elevator, I noticed that there was a trashcan sitting beside the elevator. I reached into my bag, took out Jason’s underwear and dropped them in the can.

 
 
CHAPTER FIVE
 
 

On Tuesday morning I put the Victoria’s Secret bag back in Jason’s desk drawer. I left a note on his desk instructing him to follow yesterday’s procedure. I heard him arrive around 7:15 and he came into my office about 10 minutes later. He was holding the bag in his hand.

"Close the door and bring me the bag," I instructed. He handed me the bag and I looked inside. "Very good. Now show me your new panties." He dropped his trousers and they slid down to his knees. "Lift up your shirt tail. Now turn around for me, honey." He struggled to turn around with his pants arranged around his ankles. "Those look really pretty on you. You have a gorgeous tush honey. What do you think? Do you like these better than the ones you wore yesterday?"

He shrugged his shoulders. I raised my voice a bit, "Oh come on Jason. This is fun. Enjoy it. I’m not hurting you. I’m sure that you have an opinion. Which ones do you like the best?"

"These are fine," he grudgingly said.

"Good. I’m glad you like them. Now pull up your pants and come over here. I want to show you today’s background picture." He pulled his pants up and walked over. "What do you think?" I had displayed a nice picture of him wearing a cashmere sweater with a short skirt. He had on his blonde wig. "It’s a nice ensemble and you make it look very good, Jasmine. But just a bit of advice; the color of that sweater is a bit bold so your lipstick should be less bold. They end up fighting against each other for attention. You see what I mean?"

"I guess."

"Good, and I would recommend suntan hose rather than the dark blue tights that you’re wearing. Don’t try to throw too much color together. I really like that sweater though. Do you like it?"

A shoulder shrug from Jason.

"Its cashmere and I love cashmere. Its so soft and sensuous, isn’t it." Jason didn’t answer. "Jasmine honey, I’m only trying to help you here. Do you like the cashmere sweater or don’t you?"

"Yes."

"Good. Well that’s all. You can return to your desk."

"What are you going to do with the picture that you had on yesterday?"

"Nothing. I plan on putting up a new picture each day. Why?"

"Would you please delete the old picture then? I really don’t want someone else to stumble upon it in the future."

I thought about it for a second. "Sure, dear. That’s a very reasonable request. How do I do it?"

Jason bent over my computer and showed me how. I patted him on his tush and said, "Thanks. You can go now." After Jason left, I reloaded the picture and opened a new directory called Govt. I put the picture in that directory.

Jasmine stopped by to pick me up for lunch but I was in no mood to be ridiculed. Or at least I didn’t want to take a chance of being put in that position again today. I told her that I had to finish a report for my boss, and I was going to work through lunch. I told her, "Don’t forget me tomorrow though. Ok?"

At 2:30 I knew that Jason wasn’t going to come get me for our break, so I went and picked him up. "I’m buying I announced." He dutifully stood up and followed me down the hall. "So where did Jasmine come from?" I asked. "Did you name your self after our other Jasmine?"

"No. I named my alter ego Jasmine many years ago. Working with another Jasmine is just a coincidence."

"I like the name," I said with sincerity. "Its pretty and feminine. Actually, I prefer multi-syllabic names. Do you have a middle name also?"

"James."

"That’s not what I meant. And what do you use for a last name?"

"I’ve never used either a middle or last name. I always wanted to be known by a single name."

"Like Cher?"

"Maybe."

We reached the vending machines and I bought him his diet coke. "So when did you start dressing?"

"Did you go to my web site? Its in my biography."

"I read your biography. You mentioned the first time that you got caught, but you didn’t say when you really got into it. And oh, by the way, I read the part about your dad. Do you remember when I helped you move your stuff to my house? When we were driving back to my apartment after lunch?"

"Yea."

"I said you dad was an ass-hole. In retrospect … I really meant it." I gave him a little smile. He returned the smile. At least a little smile. The corners of his mouth gave him away just the slightest. "So when did you get serious?"

"I was always serious. I knew when I was really young that I wanted to wear girl’s clothes and play with the girls. But I didn’t really get the chance until mom and dad moved up north and left my brother and me on our own. That is when I started actually buying clothes and things."

"And when your brother was off traveling, you had the opportunity to dress up?"

"Yea, but that was after he graduated and got a job. Before that when he was still in school, it was a little more difficult. I had to be careful that he didn’t come home unexpectedly and catch me."

"Did you have many opportunities back then?"

"Actually I did. After mom and dad were out of the way, he pretty much did what he wanted. He stayed over at a friend’s about half the time. So I took advantage of those opportunities."

"So why do you do it?"

"I don’t really know. I just know that I have wanted to do it ever since I can remember. It’s not something you just decide to do one day. You’re born with it. It’s hard-wired into you. I just know I really like it, and I would be horrified if anyone else found out." He looked at me, almost pleading with his eyes.

"Well, let’s hope there is no reason for that to happen," I told him. We had reached the security door into the law department. "Jason, I have one more question that I would like to ask you. Are you gay?"

"No!" he said adamantly. "I’m 100% heterosexual."

‘Except that you just don’t get many chances to practice it,’ I thought to myself.

We returned to the office and our work. That night I threw his second pair of underwear away.

On Wednesday I put a pair of pink bikini panties with a little bow in front, in the bag and put it in his desk. I didn’t leave a note on his desk though. I heard him come into the office and I waited for about ten minutes, but he didn’t show up. So I called his extension, "Jason, where are you?" I asked.

"I’m sitting right here at my desk."

"You didn’t put your panties on and come show them to me."

"What panties?"

"Jason sweetie, I’m not going to play this game with you. I didn’t leave a note on your desk because I thought you were bright enough to understand the routine. You know there is a pretty bag waiting for you in your lower desk drawer. There will be a pretty bag waiting for you everyday from now on. So quit stalling and come model them for me, and I’ll show you today’s picture. Chop, chop, sweetie," and I hung up.

Five minutes later Jason showed up with his little bag. I didn’t have to say a word when he arrived. He closed the door behind him and then handed me the bag. I didn’t even look in it. I quickly placed it in my desk drawer and waited for him to drop his trousers. Again he had tucked in his penis and the front of his crotch was very smooth. I complimented him on his look. "I really like the way you present yourself, honey. You look so smooth and sleek in front. Now spin around and let me see your cute tush." He spun around and then returned to face me. "You have just a darling rear end. I could bite it," I said with a clear grin.

"So which is your favorite so far? The high cut hip style or the bikini style?"

"They’re both about the same."

"No they’re not. Every girl has a preference. What’s yours?"

"The high cut style, I guess."

"I like you in the bikini cut, myself. We’ll let you wear both styles. That way we both are happy. So come see what I’ve posted today."

He walked over and stood behind my chair while I showed him the computer screen. I had posted a picture of Jasmine in a short dress with a low cut bodice. It was a pretty floral print. She was wearing stockings and 3-inch heels. Today she was a red-head.

"Do you like this picture?"

"Not particularly."

"Why not?"

"I don’t know. I don’t think I look enough like a girl."

"Oh sure you do. Your figure is especially nice. What are you wearing underneath?"

"I wore a corset laced really tight."

"It did a good job. It pulled your waist in and made your hips more prominent. And what did you do for boobs. They look very real."

"I have a pair of breast forms. Size 34B."

"They look good. Your figure is really nice in this picture. But can I make a couple of suggestions?" I looked at him, but he said nothing. "I’ll take that as a yes. The skirt on your dress is clinging to your stockings. Either wear a short slip underneath, or get yourself a can of anti-static spray. Either will allow the dress lo lay smoother. Second, if you’re going to show that much cleavage, wear a necklace that drapes a little low. Some girls take a pendant necklace and lay it just above or just in the cleavage. As it is, you have too much skin without something to pull the eye away. Understand?"

Jason shook his head yes.

"I didn’t hear you. Do you understand what I’m saying?"

"Yes."

"Good. And finally, never use blue eyeshadow. Unless you’re trying to be campy or look like a drag queen, blue almost never works. Stay with earth tones, smoky gray for evenings and if you really want some more color, go with lavender or even pink. Ok?"

"Yes."

"Good. Is there anything else?"

"Did you erase yesterday’s picture."

"I sure did sweetie. Ok?"

"Yea."

"Well then, back to work." I watched him walk out and again I didn’t notice any swish. Jasmine was obviously making that up. But a thought ran through my mind — he might look nice with a swish. I chuckled and went to work.

I worked through the morning and had lunch with the girls. I think they got my message from yesterday, because no one brought up Mikey. At one point Jason walked by the table and never said a word. Terri noticed the lack of civility. "No hello from Jason? He must be getting stuck up."

"Maybe that’s his problem," Jasmine said. "Maybe he got something stuck up his ass last night." The other girls started laughing.

"He did look like he was walking a little lopsided today." They never passed up an opportunity to poke fun at him.

At 2:30 I went over to Jason’s desk and asked him to go to the vending machines. "You know Jason, you used to come to my office and pick me up for our afternoon break. Why don’t you come get me anymore?" I was teasing him and he didn’t like it.

"I’m very busy."

"Well starting tomorrow, I want you to start picking me up again. No more sulking. I know you’re mad at me, but you’ll get over it. And the sooner the better. We’re still friends, right?"

He didn’t say anything.

"Jason, honey. Neither one of us has any friends at this place. We’re all we each have. We have to stick together."

"Except for the girls that you eat lunch with and Mikey."

I tried to ignore the Mikey reference. "That’s a bit different, Jason. Girl’s usually have lunch together, and the two of us can’t eat together."

"And why not?"

"Because of office politics and gossip. The first thing you know, people will see us together and think something is going on. It’s inevitable. Then after the rumors fly all over the company, HR will step in and move one or the other of us to a different department, because they can’t have us working together. That’s the way it is in big companies. You know that."

"And what about Mikey?"

I stiffened at that name. "What about Mikey?"

"Aren’t you and Mikey an item?"

"Not anymore. You don’t have to worry about Mikey. He never was and never will be my friend. And that assumes that I don’t murder him!"

"Then the stories are true, aren’t they?"

"I don’t know what stories you’re referring to and I don’t care to know. Subject closed."

We reached the vending machines and he stepped in front of me. "Let me buy you a coke today. I think you need it more than I do." He grinned ever so slightly. I was pleased. The rest of the afternoon passed in typical routine.

That night after I reached my apartment, I threw away Jason’s third pair of underpants.

On Thursday I gave Jason a plain white pair of high-cut panties. He didn’t have any other colors in that style. On Friday we tried something different. I gave Jason a pair of his padded panties. They had extra padding on the derriere and gave the wearer a plumper, more feminine look. Jason came into my office and handed me the little bag with his male underpants in it. As usual, I had him drop his trousers so I could see that he was wearing his panties du jour. They did plump up his tush. "Pull your pants up, sweetie. I want to see what you look like from behind."

He pulled up his dockers and fastened his belt. His dockers were a bit larger and more baggy than I had been expecting. When he turned around I could barely notice that he was wearing any padding. I was disappointed. I had him come over to my desk and I showed him the daily picture. Jasmine was wearing a pantsuit with piping around the cuffs and neck. It wasn’t very becoming and I pointed out why. Jasmine was a bit disappointed but understood my critique. She was a very attentive learner. When I was finished, Jason again asked if I had deleted yesterday’s picture. "No, why don’t you handle that from now on, ok?"

Jason leaned over the keypad and began looking for the picture. When he bent forward the rear of his trousers pulled tight, and I could see the extra padding from his new panties. They gave him a much fuller, and feminine buttom. I was pleased. When he left I reloaded the picture.

For some reason Jasmine never stopped by to ask me out Friday night. Lunch was typical. We insulted Linda behind her back. We ripped apart two other secretaries who had obviously dressed for Friday night hunting, and of course we threw a few comments in Jason’s direction. No one noticed Jason’s enhanced derriere and I was a little disappointed. Maybe next time, I thought.

At 2:30 Jason came to my office and asked me to join him for a walk down to the vending machines. "Thank you Jason, I would be happy to join you." When we reached the hall I took a quick look around to make no one was watching, then I reached down and grabbed Jason’s ass. He jumped and quickly stepped away from me.

"Don’t do that," he hissed at me.

"Why not, my cute sweetie? You have a great ass."

"Because some one might see, that’s why."

"So?"

"So I’d have to charge you with sexual harassment." He gave me an ever so slight grin. I grinned also.

"I have a new word for you today. Callipygian. Have you ever heard it?"

"No."

"To be blunt, it means cute ass. And that’s what you have and what you are. Callipygian. I think that would be a good middle name for you. Cally. What do you think?"

"I think you made it up."

"Not a chance," I said. "I’ll bet you its real."

"Ok, you’re on. There is no way in the world it’s real. What’s the bet for?"

"Winner decides?"

That stopped him for a moment. That was a real bet and he knew it. And I knew, or I was pretty sure, what his choice would be. I knew it was churning through his mind. "Ok, but it has to be in the dictionary."

I held out my hand. "Then it’s a bet. Now all I have to do is decide what I want. Hmmm … " I knew it was real word and I had already decided what my claim would be. And we would have done it no matter what.

We returned to the office and went to his desk. He took out a dictionary and opened it to the Cs. "How do you spell it?"

I smiled. I knew he would never find it in an abridged dictionary. I spelled it out. "Ah ha! It’s not here. I win," he gloated.

"Not so fast Kreskin. Let’s go look at a real dictionary." The office had an unabridged dictionary back in the documents area. I led him back to the documents area and looked around to see if any one else was there. The place was empty. I opened the dictionary and quickly found callipygian. The smile on his face dropped to his shoes. "Well there you have it sweetie." I reached down and squeezed his ass. "Dinner. Tomorrow tonight. My apartment at 6:30. Don’t be late." I pursed my lips and blew him a kiss. Damn I was good!

I spent the day cleaning the apartment and shopping. I wanted to put on a nice dinner for Jason. This was going to be an awesome evening. I was thrilled with my devious thinking. Not only did I know that I was going to enjoy this, but I was pretty sure Jason was going to be ecstatic. Only, he would never admit it.

At 6:39 the doorbell rang. I strolled over in my designer jeans and cashmere sweater and opened the door. "Hello Jason," I said seductively. "Welcome to my web." I gave him a bewitching smile.

"Ahhh … hi." I already had him back on his heels. I pulled him into the room and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

"What have you brought me?"

"Ahhh … wine," he said in a rather stunned voice.

"Wonderful. Red. Are you a wine connoisseur?"

"No."

"Neither am I. Red is supposed to be served at room temperature, but I prefer my wine cold. Do you mind if I put it in the freezer?"

"Ok." Jason was so assertive and decisive … not. I smiled at that thought. I led him into the kitchen.

"Would you mind giving me a hand? Do you like pasta?" I didn’t give him a chance to answer. "Here put this on," and I held out an apron for him. He put his arms through the straps and I walked behind him and tied the straps. It was frilly pink apron and looked very feminine. I grabbed another apron, yellow, and put it on. "Would you mind straining the pasta please, I want to work on the sauce a bit longer."

"What do I do?"

"Take the pot over to the sink and pour it into the strainer. That will eliminate the water. Then take the pasta out of the strainer and put it back in the pot and place it on the stove." He followed my instructions. "Now come over here and stir this sauce. I have some garlic bread in the oven and I want to check on it." Again he did as he was told.

I continued to give him his instructions and he followed them as much as he could. Finally I told him, "Go to the freezer and get out your wine. There are two chilled wine glasses in there also. I told you I like my wine chilled. There is a corkscrew on the counter over there. Fill the glasses and bring them to the table."

"How did you know that I was going to bring wine?"

"Because I own you, Jason. Simple as that. Now shall we eat?"

We both sat down and I filled his plate with pasta then handed him the garlic bread. "Do you like pasta?"

"No."

"Good, enjoy. How about wine? Do you like wine?"

"No."

"Good. Prost!" and I made him clink glasses. We ate in silence for a few minutes. "So Jason, how was your week?" I asked innocently. He stared at me. "I’m making conversation. You have to talk Jason. Otherwise your food fills up your belly and causes you to barf it out later."

"Good. That should be fun to watch."

I laughed. "You do know how to charm a girl." He actually smiled a bit also. "How was your week? Be honest now."

He was silent. I could tell he was thinking of an answer and I allowed him some time. "I was scared."

"That’s nice. What else?"

"I lost my trust in someone that I liked."

"That’s nice. What else?"

"I felt belittled and trashed like never before."

"That part’s a lie. No one has ever treated you as badly as your father. And truth be known, you liked parts of what you did this week. Admit it."

"No I didn’t. I’ve never felt so trapped, so scared and so intimidated in my life."

"Most of that is true. But it doesn’t alter the fact that you liked it. Somewhere deep inside your gut, you liked it. Admit it."

"I did not and no matter how much you try and salve your conscience, it isn’t true. You treated me like a piece of chattel and you’re the one that liked it. Not me."

"You know sweetie, you might be right." I took another bite of pasta and smile at him. "Do you really hate pasta?"

"To be honest …"

"We can be honest," I said.

"No, pasta is not one of my favorites."

"That’s nice. Have some more," and I threw another large scoop on his plate.

He looked me in the eye. "What is it with you? Why are you doing this? What do you want from me? Are you trying to crush me? Destroy me? Why?"

I could see a tear in the corner of his eye. I had a momentary pang of guilt, but it quickly passed. I knew he liked this and wanted this, whether he knew it or not, and whether he would admit it or not. "Why? I told you why Jason. Because I can." I gave him a sinister smile. I could see him cringe ever so slightly.

"Finish your pasta. We have sherbet for dessert."

The rest of the meal’s conversation was confined to meaningless etiquette. As the meal came to an end I asked, "How was it?"

"I’ve had worse."

"Well thank you. I will take that as a compliment. Would you like anything else?’

"Maybe just a wee bit of wine."

"Oh, I’m sorry Jason. No more alcohol now. We have a big night ahead of us, and I don’t want you getting tired too early."

His head jerked up, he looked me in the eye and his head listed ever so slightly to his right. "What do you mean a big night?" he asked suspiciously.

"Were going out to a club, Jasmine."

I could see the breath rush out of his lungs. "What do you mean we’re going to a club?"

"Well," I began with a big breath, "as I understand it, Jasmine has never gone out in public. Am I right?"

"No. I’m not going out."

"Sure you are Jasmine. We’re going out to a great club called Glitter. I used to go there all the time with my old roommate. It’s a gay bar." His eyebrows popped up. "She was a lesbian and loved the place. And on Saturday nights they have a drag show at midnight. Has Jasmine ever seen a drag show?" No answer. "Jasmine? Have you ever seen a drag show?"

"No."

"Trust me. This will be the most memorable night of your young life. In a way, this is a birth. A re-birth. It will be the first night out ever for Jasmine. And she will love it. Now, we have to start getting ready. How long will it take you to get made up?"

"I’m not going out in public."

I stood up, put my hands on the table and leaned across towards Jason. I used a very steady, very deliberate and very forceful voice, "Yes you will dress up and yes you will go out with me. You have no choice in this matter. It is what I want, and it is what you want. Now quit being a pain in the ass and answer me, how long will it take you to get ready?"

"Probably an hour or two. I have to shave, put on my makeup … probably an hour for all of that, then dressing ..."

"Ok, then let’s get started. We can forget about the dishes tonight. I’ll stack them in the sink and you go clean up." He looked at me. "Go! Now!"

"I don’t have anything," he said exasperated.

"Calm down. Everything that you need is in the spare bedroom. I put away all of your things. Take a look around and you will find everything that you need. Now, take a deep breath, relax and go. Trust me, you will have a wonderful time. Its what you’ve always wanted. Stop denying it, grasp the opportunity, thank me and go!"

He went, but he didn’t thank me. He would. I was pretty sure of that. Maybe not tonight, but someday. I could wait. And in the meantime, I was going to enjoy the opportunity that had dropped into my lap.

I stacked the dishes in the sink, then went and got ready. I brushed my hair and gave it a quick spritz of hair spray. I sat down in front of my vanity and applied a light coat of foundation, and brushed on some blush to hi-lite my cheekbones. I brushed out my eyebrows with a light brown color, applied eye shadow and fluffed my eyelashes with a dark brown mascara. I outlined my lips and then filled them in with a cranberry colored lipstick. I switched from studs to drop earrings, put on a gold necklace and some dangling bracelets. A nice fashionable, but casual look. I was ready. I went to check on Jason.

He was still in the bathroom. I knocked on the door, "How you doing in there?"

"Fine."

"You presentable?"

"No.

"Good, I’m coming in." I gave him just a moment to shout no, and he didn’t say a word, so I walked in. He was sitting on the toilet, naked except for his padded panties. His face was covered with 5 or 6 blood stained bits of toilet paper. He looked hilarious. I couldn’t help my self and I started laughing. I started laughing hilariously. I fell backwards against the wall and slowly slid to the floor, laughing at the top of my lungs. He stared at me, his eyes glistening from tears. "Are you the same Jason as the one in Friday the Thirteenth?"

That broke him loose. I’ve never seen anyone laugh and cry at the same time. He grabbed another handful of toilet paper and wiped his eyes. "I can’t do anything right," he sobbed. "I wanted to shave extra close, and look what I did." He started sobbing again. "I can’t even be a failure without failing."

That got my attention. I quit laughing and stood up. "Come here," I said. "Pull that toilet paper off your face." I turned on the cold water and let it run until it was good and cold. I filled up the sink and handed Jason a washcloth. "Come over here and soak your face with cold water. That will stop the bleeding and prevent any scabs from forming. Get to it," I instructed him. I stepped back and continued to encourage him. It took a full fifteen minutes before the bleeding was fully stopped.

"See? The cold water even reduces the localized swelling from the cuts. Now, what do you need to do next?"

"Brush my teeth and apply some anti-perspirant."

"Ok, get to it."

He started to loose his composure again, "I don’t have any."

"Yes you do," I quickly said. "Come on," and I led him into the spare bedroom. "All of your stuff is here," and I gave him a quick tour as to where I had put everything. "Here’s your toiletries. Go brush your teeth and then come back here."

He returned in a few minutes. "Ok, now what do you do?" I asked.

"Usually I put on my under garments," he sniffed.

"Fine, then let’s do that. I’ll help. What do you want first?"

"My corset."

I knew exactly where it was. I went to his dresser and took it out. "How do you put it on?"

He put it around his waist and hooked the eyelets in the front. "Can you pull it tight in the back?"

"How? Where?" I asked.

"Grab the laces in the middle and pull them as tight as you can." I did as I was told. "Tighter," he said. I pulled as tight as I could. "Tie it in a knot, otherwise it might come loose."

I tied a knot. "Ok, now what?"

"My bra and breast forms." I showed him the correct drawer for his bras. I had left his breast forms in their molded boxes and had placed them up in the closet. I took them from the shelf and set them on his dresser. He picked out a white, underwire bra and expertly slipped it on and fastened it behind his back. He took the breast forms and squeezed them into his bra. He pushed them around for a minute until he was satisfied with their placement.

"Looking nice," I told him. "Now what?"

"Nylons."

I showed him the correct drawer. He had tons of nylons. He took out some knee highs and sat down on the bed. "Wait," I interrupted. "You can’t wear those. I want you to wear a skirt."

"I can’t," he protested, "I have hairy legs. And besides, you’re wearing jeans."

Yes, his legs were hairy. "Well, what did you do in your pictures?"

"I wore dancer’s tights."

"Ok, wear dancer tights."

"That won’t work. They look ok in pictures, but in the real world they look fake and hokey. It won’t work," Jason complained.

I had a flash of inspiration, but it would have to wait until another time. "Ok, maybe jeans would be better for your first night out. They do eliminate a lot of problems." Jason had to really struggle to get the stockings on. The corset made it extremely difficult for him to bend over and reach his feet.

"Now I need a camisole." I picked out a very attractive, pink camisole that was covered with lace and handed it to him.

"Next?"

"Make-up."

"Ok, everything is over here. Wait," and I went and picked up a shoebox. "Pick out what you want and place it in here." He went through the thousands of bottles and tubes and cosmetics that he owned and picked out the necessary ones. He placed them in the box. "Ok, follow me. We can use the vanity in my room."

I led him into my bedroom and sat him in front of the vanity mirror. "Let me help," I offered. "Where do you usually start?"

He handed me a small container labeled ‘beard-cover’. "The first thing I do is take a sponge and use this to cover my beard"

"Ok, let me do it." I used the sponge to wipe the heavy goo over his beard. "It would be better if you got electrolysis and got rid of this beard," I joked. Another inspirational idea popped into my head. I filed it for future use. "Now what?"

"I use translucent powder, just a bit to set the beard cover."

"No problem," and I took a brush and applied a light coat of powder. "Next?"

"Now I usually apply regular foundation over my entire face and neck."

Man, we were starting to apply a lot of makeup. There has to be a better way I thought. I took a fresh sponge and applied the foundation over his face and down over his neck. "How’s that look?" I asked.

"That’s nice. Next, another light dusting of powder to set it." That took me just a minute or two. "Now I usually apply some blush."

"Ok, were going to change the routine a bit. The blush you use is way too dark. It might work on a model with high cheekbones, but it isn’t for you. You need something lighter. Give me a sec. and I’ll be right back." I went back to his room and searched through his collection of cosmetics. I found a lighter, pinker color and returned to Jason. I brushed it lightly over his cheeks and blended it up towards his hairline. "Watch what I’m doing here. I think this will work better for you and your complexion."

"I think that looks better than what you usually do," I said. "What do you think? Is it ok?"

"Yea, I guess its ok."

"Good. Now what?"

"Next, I do my eye brows."

"Your eyes. Great. First things first. Wait here just a minute." I went to the bathroom and located my tweezers. I sat sown in front of Jason and told him, "I’m going to clean up your brows."

"No," he yelled. "You can’t pluck my eye brows."

"Yes I can, and yes I will. Quit panicking every time I do something. I’m going to clean them up, pluck a few stragglers and even them out. It won’t kill you, so sit there and be quiet."

"But …"

"But nothing," I said. "I’m not going to going to arch them and make them look real femmy." And then my third inspiration of the night hit. I’d have his eyebrows waxed at a salon later. I was a genius!

After plucking his brows, I took his brow pencil and colored in a nice clean line. Then I took his eyelid sealer and applied a first coat over his eyelids. After it set for a moment I brushed on a light pink shadow, spreading it up high under his brows. I wanted to give him a bright-eyed innocent look. I put a light lavender over his lower lids, and then used a tiny bit of gray through the crease.

Next I found a light brown eyeliner and outlined his eyes. I didn’t take it all the way to the inside corner of his eyes. I wanted to try and pull the look to his outer eye. I smudged the eyeliner with a brush and gave his eyes a nice soft look. I handed him his lash curler and told him that he had to curl his own lashes. When he finished, I applied two coats of dark brown mascara for him. I finished by taking a lash brush and combing out the lumps and blobs. His eyes looked nice, not perfect, but passable for his first night out.

"Ok, lips. Right?"

"Yes," he said.

"Before I show you how to apply lipstick, what are you going to wear?"

"I don’t know. Can you help me decide?"

"Sure, let’s take a look at that extensive wardrobe of yours." First I helped him pick out a tight pair of stone washed jeans. "Let’s give you a top that hangs out and is nice and long. You don’t want something so short that when you bend over it pulls up and exposes your cami." I found a nice silk blouse with cap sleeves and a square neckline. It was a soft powder blue color.

"Shoes," I said. "How good are you with heels?"

"Decent I think."

"Do you want to try heels?"

"I think I can."

"They will make you a lot more dressy." I found him a pair of 3-inch straps and helped him put them on. That corset really did make it tough for him to bend over. "You look good in heels," I told him. "Let’s go finish your makeup." I looked through his cosmetics until I found a lipstick color that I thought would match his top. Then I searched for a slightly darker lip liner. I found a great, although not perfect, match. It was amazing how many cosmetics he had.

I sat him on the bed and applied first the lip liner, giving him slightly larger and more pouty lips, and then the lipstick. "Here, take this Kleenex and blot your lips." I pressed a bit of powder on his lips, and then re-applied just a bit of lipstick. "There, that should last for a while. You see how I did that right?"

"Yep."

"Good. I do like that color on you. What do you have for jewelry?"

That brought my fourth inspiration for the night. He needed to have his ears pierced. I found some clip on earrings that I liked. I gave him a slim silver necklace, bracelets and some rings. He must have spent a fortune on his hobby. I couldn’t believe all of the jewelry we had to choose from. All that was left were his wigs.

One by one we tried on his wigs. First we put on his short blonde wig. It looked cute. Next we tried his long black wig. It was ok, but I wasn’t sure that black was his color. Next was his curly red wig. I liked the color, but the long collection of curls was a bit over the top, at least for tonight. Last he put on his long, straight brunette wig. I decided that it had the best chance. To be honest, none of them were quite right for him. I straightened the wig and combed down his bangs. Then I brushed out the wig and tried to get it to lay flat. It wasn’t a very expensive wig and it showed. Jason’s hair was going to be the weak part of his look. But it was the best we had.

"We’re finished sweetie. Pick out a nice perfume and spray it on your neck and wrists." He — she- did as I instructed. "Do you have a purse? I put them here in the closet." We searched through a dozen purses and picked out a nice brown purse with a long a strap. "Ok, come out into the living room and let’s take a look at the new Jasmine."

I stood off to the side of the room and watched Jasmine walk out. My first impression was very positive. She was rather small and had a nice figure with lots of curves. I thought her chest and hips were well proportioned and fit her stature well. Her hair was off just a bit, but I knew that already. I wasn’t sure if it was the color or the style, but I certainly wasn’t satisfied with the look.

Her best feature was her face. Unlike most men, she did not have an oval face. It was wider, (dare I say round?) like a good model’s face. She had a small, upturned nose that was very feminine when surrounded with made up eyes and red lips. Her cheekbones were flat, but the blush helped. The makeup gave her a very pretty face. Her face was definitely her best feature.

She claimed that she was ok in heels, but she walked like a cow. She was going to need a lot of work on walking, moving her arms and hands and reducing the amount of sway in her hips. She didn’t hold her head right either. She tended to slump her shoulders and hold her chin down. I was going to have to train the girl and make her work at it.

And then there was her voice. That would take a long time, I knew.

But for her first night out, she would be fine. We were going to a gay bar and transvestites were always accepted there, so there wouldn’t be any problem with passing. If she did fool a few people, that would be frosting on the cake.

"We’re going to walk down to the car," I told her. "But first walk across the room." She was trying to place one foot in front of the other. "Stop placing one foot in front of the other, like your trying to walk a tightrope."

"But that’s how models walk," she explained.

"Exactly. That is how models walk when they’re modeling, but that is not how normal women walk. Besides, it’s forcing your hips to sway too much. You look like you’re working the street with those hips. Now try it again. More natural."

She walked across the room a couple of times. "Better, now take shorter steps. You’re a beautiful girl basking in the attention of all the men as you walk across the room. Slow down and enjoy it." She crossed the room again, and looked a bit better. "Now hold your elbows closer to your side. Move your lower arms more and your shoulders less. Better, better. This time, look where you’re going. Hold your head up higher. You want to look those men in the eye as you glide past them. Don’t look at the floor so much."

She tried, but kept glancing at the floor. "I’m not sure that I can keep from looking at the floor. I’m not that sure of myself in these heels, and I’m afraid of stepping on something or tripping over something."

"Ok, that will take practice and confidence. Keep your purse strap over your shoulder and hold the strap with one hand. Elbows in," I reminded her. "Less hips. Small steps. Chin up."

"Blah, blah, blah," she screamed. "I can’t do all of that at once."

"You had better learn, or everyone in the world will know that you’re a man in heels! And you will NOT walk that way when you are in my company, or I will leave you behind. Try it again." I made her cross the room a couple more times, then gave up. "I guess I’ll have to take you as you are. What do you have in your purse?"

"Nothing."

"That’s not going to work is it? Let’s get you the things you’ll need. Go find your lipstick and lip liner, your facial powder and a brush, and your mascara. Do you have a small hairbrush? Put a bottle of clear nail polish in too. You’ll need your wallet, some Kleenex and a tampon."

"A tampon? What am I supposed to do with that?"

"Use your imagination," I teased. "Every girl in the world carries an emergency tampon in her purse. You will too. I’ll get one for you."

After filling her purse I asked, "Are you ready to meet the world?"

"I don’t know," she sighed.

"Well it doesn’t matter, does it? What I say goes, and I say let’s go." I led her out the door and down the hall towards the elevator. "Chin up," I reminded her. We stepped into the elevator and she slumped one hip and stood like a man. "Stand up! You stand like a man in drag. You’re a young lady, act like a lady!"

"Yes ma’am!"

"And I like that respect. You shall show me more of it."

The elevator reached the garage and I led her to the passenger side of the car. "Do you know how to sit down like a lady?"

"Yes." She turned sideways to the seat and sat down with her feet together on the pavement. Then she swung both feet together into the car. She looked up at me asked, "How did I do ma’am?"

"Not bad. But when you’re in pants, you can step into the car." I smiled at her and shut her door.

I sat down behind the wheel and placed my purse on the floor behind me. "Put your purse on the floor between your legs," I instructed. I started the car and we drove to Glitter.

Glitter Night Club is located in the gay district. On Saturday nights the entire area is a hot bed of activity. People come from all over greater Chicago to dance and be seen in the various clubs. And all of those people meant lots of cars with only a limited amount of parking spaces. We had to park 5 blocks away. Which was ok with me, because it gave Jasmine more opportunity to work on her walk.

"Chin up, shoulders back," I reminded her over and over.

We had to stop at a corner for the streetlight to turn. Jasmine turned to me and said, "I’m getting sick of all the instructions. I’m trying! You’re starting to sound like a bitch."

I gave her my most devious smile, "If you want me to be a bitch, you haven’t seen anything yet. I’ll treat you like a piece of shit. Is that the way you want it?"

She dropped her eyes and looked at her heels. "No, I’m sorry."

"You certainly are sorry, and your only chance of ever passing as anything other than a man in drag is by listening to me and doing what I tell you. Is that asking too much?"

"No."

"Good. Elbows in." As we walked the rest of the way to Glitter, I realized I was starting to like this situation. I was totally in charge. Even though I liked him, and even felt sorry for him, I had no trouble reverting to an authoritarian mode. I felt no guilt or shame at all. I was learning something about myself that I had never realized. I didn’t think that I was hurting him, and I knew that he did indeed like crossdressing. And I suspected that being forced into this position, allowed him to rationalize his doubts about wanting to look and act like a girl. The situation was cathartic for both of us.

We reached Glitter and walked in the front door. There were people all over. The bouncer stopped us as we came in. "Hi girls. Can I see some ID?" I handed him my ID, he glanced at it and gave it back. Jasmine gave him hers and he took a few extra seconds to look at. "Thanks girls. Have a great time," and he waved us in.

I didn’t have to worry about Jasmine’s walk anymore. The place was so busy that we were bounced around like balls in a pinball machine. We struggled to a stand-up table near the dance floor. We set our purses on the table and laid claim. The music was being pumped out at ear splitting level. The floor was packed and the crowd was bouncing up and down to the music. There was no way to tell who was dancing with whom.

Jasmine and I didn’t even try to talk, it would have been futile. One dance morphed into another as the DJ kept the music pounding out a rhythm. People came and people left the floor and the overall mob kept bouncing and bopping. A waitress finally came to our table and I yelled in her ear. She eventually found her way back with 4 cokes. I was thirsty, and I knew we wouldn’t see her for another half hour or more. I pushed 2 cokes over to Jasmine. She chugged her first coke like a guy. I shook my head in disgust and pulled a mirror from my purse and handed it to her. I pointed to the corners of her mouth. She had smeared her lipstick because she wasn’t careful. I handed her other coke to her and motioned for her to follow me.

We carried our drinks into the restroom and waited for a place at the vanity. The room was packed and each girl was checking her makeup and touching up imperfections. We made our way to the counter and I set down my purse and reached into hers. I took out her lip liner and a Kleenex. I carefully touched up the corners of her mouth and then re-applied her lipstick. Not another girl gave us a second look.

"Act like a lady," I told her. "Think before you act. You’re a dainty feminine flower. Be one."

A girl standing nearby said, "That’s right girl. Wow ‘em with your charms. You got ‘em."

We both laughed and gave her a thumbs up. We carried our drinks back into the noise and mayhem. We found a place by the bar and a single stool opened up. I motioned for Jasmine to sit down. I figured her heels were probably starting to tire her feet. I motioned for her to cross her legs. She didn’t look right so I took my hands and pushed her legs into their proper position.

When I used to frequent the Glitter, there was one transvestite that I thought looked reasonable, and I enjoyed talking with her. Her name was Tara. She was at the club and spotted me. "Hi, Karen," she yelled. "I haven’t seen you in awhile."

"I got a knew job and I moved across town. How have you been?"

"Great. Whose your friend?"

"Jasmine." I yelled. I introduced the two of them. They began talking and ended up talking for the rest of the night. They bought each other drinks and had an animated conversation. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but several times I saw Jasmine point at me. Sometimes they laughed and sometimes Tara gave me a disgusted shake of her head. I had an idea what they might be talking about and I smiled back.

I was watching the action around the club when I saw Gloria. I motioned to Jasmine to stay where she was and I bumped my way over to Gloria. We hugged and then I asked her to come outside with me. We got our hands stamped and went outside where it was cooler and quieter.

"Gloria, how have you been?"

"Wonderful. How’s the new job?"

"It sucks. I’m working in a pig pen. Its full of pigs."

"Welcome to the real world sister."

"Thanks. Can I ask a favor?"

"Why not?"

"I’m serious about the job. It pretty much sucks as far social life goes. All of the other lawyers are men, and not a single one will give me the time of day. There are a couple of secretaries and paralegals that eat lunch with me, and that is about the extent of my human contact. The problem is, one of the girls is hot for me. She knows I’m hetero, but she won’t give up. I’m real short on friends and I don’t want to get too blunt and chase her away."

"I get the picture. You are sexy, Karen. How can I help?"

"If I bring her here, maybe we could ‘accidentally’ meet up with you. And maybe when I’m off buying drinks or sitting in the girl’s room, you could kind of set her straight?"

"Is she cute?"

"Yea, she is very pretty."

"How old is she?"

"I think 27."

"Yea, I’ll help you out. When?"

"How ‘bout I give you call? Maybe next Friday? I’m not sure."

"I’d be glad to help out an old roomie. Especially if she brings me a live hotty. So is that what brings you back to your old roots?"

"That, and I brought a TV down here."

"Karen, you doing charity work?"

"Not quite. It’s a rather interesting situation. He’s a TV but really shy. I’ve kind of taken over and I’m forcing him along. It’s fun. He has to do what I tell him to do."

"What, are you blackmailing him?"

"In a way. I have never even thought of doing something like this, but I’m having a fun time. It’s my way to get back at all of the ass-hole men I’ve ever known."

Gloria laughed. "Sounds like fun. Can I help? Just kidding. Is he inside?"

"Yea."

"Show him to me, will ya?"

I led Gloria back inside and took her over to Jasmine. I introduced her to both Jasmine and Tara. "Hi girls," was the first and only thing I heard Gloria say. They talked for a long time and I saw them laugh several times. At one point I saw Gloria reach out and squeeze Jasmine’s boobs. Then she reached over to Tara and squeezed her boobs. A little while later she took both by the hand and led them onto the dance floor. I caught glimpses of them on and off, but they were swallowed by the pulsating crowd. I took control of the bar stool, sat down and kept an eye on purses and drinks.

I glanced at my watch and noticed that it was after midnight. Finally, I thought. That meant that we were getting close to the drag show, and the super loud music would soon come to an end. Thankfully, it only took another five minutes to finish the dancing. The girls came back, panting and sweating. Jasmines face was shining, and it looked like her triangle was getting glossy. "Tara are you going to stay for the show?"

"Absolutely!"

"Would you watch our drinks? Jasmine needs to fix her face."

"Go," she said. "I’ll be here."

I handed Jasmine her purse, took her by the arm and led her to the girls room. The crowd was starting to thin out and it was easier to get in. "Go take a pee, then I’ll fix your face. You were sweating on the dance floor and it’s blemishing your makeup."

Either she really had to pee, or she was having trouble with her zipper. It took a long time for her to resurface. The room was still crowded as I started instructing her on her makeup. I turned her towards the mirror and pointed out the spots where her sweat was thinning her makeup. I dabbed a bit of foundation on the spots and smoothed it out. Then I gave her the brush and powder and told her to brush on a thin layer of the powder. A couple of the other girls glanced over at us, but no one said a word or raised an eyebrow. As long as she was wearing lipstick she was welcome in the girl’s room. Only in a gay bar do you see what tolerance is really about, I thought.

We went back to the bar and met Tara. I ordered a beer for both of us, since it would probably be the one and only alcoholic drink for either of us. When the beer arrived I said, "Be a flower. Don’t guzzle it." Both she and Tara gave me dirty look.

The house lights dimmed and the stage lights came on. The little disco ball above the stage started rotating and jewels of light spread across the room. The hostess came out on the stage to a rousing applause. She welcomed the crowd, told a few ribald jokes, and traded a couple of insults with two guys who laughed hilariously. Then she introduced their first entertainer, a buxom beauty from Texas.

Annie Oakley came on stage wearing a frilly skirt and western shirt, boots and spurs. She began lip syncing a song that I don’t recall. It was a rompous cowboy song, and the crowd hooted and hollered and clapped along. Tara took a dollar bill from her purse and walked up and handed it to Annie. She blew Tara a kiss and kept ‘singing’. A few others took up money and each received an air kiss or a wink. Jasmine was watching with rapt attention.

Annie finished to a nice applause and ran back stage. The hostess returned and started trading ribald insults with the two guys again. Then she introduced the second entertainer. She was a tall, gorgeous beauty who could dance like a Rockette. She performed a high powered number with plenty of dancing and lip synching. She twirled, pirouetted and did the splits. She had the folks lined up around the stage waiting for her to finish so they could hand her their dollar bills.

Jasmine watched the show and was transfixed by the girls. She laughed too long and too loud. She traded whispers and laughs with Tara. She tapped her toe and clapped along with the music. But mostly, she watched with her mouth open. At one point, I reached over and tapped her under her chin to close her mouth. She gave me a quick grin and then turned back to the show.

The show lasted a little over an hour. It was late and time to go. I told her we needed to leave. She and Tara traded phone numbers and email addresses and we finally headed home. As we stepped outside, the cool air blew over us and it felt great. It was so much quieter my ears felt like there was a pressure on them, like walking into an anechoic chamber. I put my arm through Jasmine’s and we quietly walked side by side. We listened to the sounds of the city, the chatter in the distance, the sirens, the laughing outside the bars as we passed by them.

"How was your evening?" I asked.

"Ok." It was if she was shrugging off a boring time. I knew better.

"What did you give Tara?"

"My email address."

"Is that all?"

"We traded telephone numbers also."

"She was attractive," I said. Jasmine gave me a nasty look. I smiled and said, "You did seem interested in her."

"Get real."

We reached the car, and we both climbed in. I began navigating the night-time streets back to my apartment. "So did you have a nice time?"

"I guess." She was non-committal.

"Would you like to do it again?"

She shrugged her shoulders.

"Well if your not that interested, I’ll throw out all of your clothes tomorrow. I thought you wanted to do this, but maybe I was wrong." She looked at me. "Silly me, I thought I was doing you a favor, something that you wanted."

"Ok, you win. I loved it. It’s hard admitting that to you. I don’t … I didn’t … You are just so …" It was obvious she was having a difficult time admitting her true feelings.

"What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?"

"Frustrating, intolerable, exasperating, …"

"Thank you. You’re welcome. So admit it, you love putting on that bra and feeling the way it tightly hugs you. You love the taste of the lipstick, the smell of your perfume, the jiggle of the bracelets around your wrists, the sound of your heels clicking on the pavement and the feel of your long hair against your cheek. They really turn you on don’t they."

"Yes. They do. They always have and you know it. You have me and there is nothing I can do about it."

"Your both right and wrong. I do have you, but there is something you can do." I waited for her ‘What?’ "You can enjoy it. You can embrace it with your heart and soul. You can live. You can do what I tell you to do."

She didn’t answer. She leaned back and quietly enjoyed the ride back to my apartment. She basked in the after-glow, the adrenaline let-down of her best night ever. Back at my apartment I helped her take off her heels, and I released her from the corset. I made sure that she had a good cold cream to clean off her makeup

After she finished in the bathroom, I washed my face and prepared for bed. When I came out, she was standing in the doorway to her bedroom. She was wearing a knee length negligee with spaghetti straps and a plunging neckline. "You have a pretty negligee. Goodnight," and I gave her a quick kiss on the cheek as I headed to my room.

I woke up at about 10:30. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and climbed out of my bed. I put on my robe and strolled out into the kitchen. The table had been cleared from last night, the dishes rinsed and placed in the dishwasher, and the stove was in the middle of making breakfast. Toast and bacon were already lying on a plate. The frying pan was sitting on the stove and the carton of eggs was sitting next to the stove.

I heard the front door close, and Jason walked in with the Sunday paper. "Mornin’ sleepy head. How do you like your eggs?"

"Sunny side over. What are you doing?"

"Making breakfast silly."

"No, I mean what are you doing dressed? Don’t you know that on Sunday mornings girls sit around in their robes, sip coffee and eat cinnamon rolls while they do the Sunday crossword puzzle?" That threw her off balance. She thought she was going to get an atta-girl and I tripped her up. Damn, I was good.

 
 
CHAPTER SIX
 
 

On Monday morning I put a pair of bikini panties and a camisole in the Victoria’s Secret bag. Shortly after arriving, Jason came to my office with the Victoria’s Secret bag and another a paper bag. He set both on my desk and then closed the door. "Good morning," he said. "I don’t want to keep my panties at my current apartment, I’m afraid someone will see them. Can you take them to your apartment and put them away for me?"

"Have they been washed?" I asked.

"Huh?"

"Did you wash them?"

"No."

"Then the answer is no, I will not take them home with me."

"But how am I going to wash them?" he whined.

"How do wash your boy’s underwear?"

"I take them to the laundromat, but I can’t do that with these."

"Why can’t you?" I wanted to know.

"Because someone might see them."

"Well boo hoo. Just tell them you only wear them at work. Or you could say they belong to your girl friend."

"I guess so."

"That’s what you could do, but I recommend washing them in your bathroom sink with a mild detergent and hanging them over the bathtub to dry. It’s much gentler and the panties will last longer. That’s how you should wash all of your dainties. Here," and I handed him the bag. "Don’t bring them back until they’ve been washed." He reluctantly took the bag.

"Take your shirt off, I want to see how your camisole fits." He removed his shirt. I could see chest hair above the bodice. I smiled knowing I would handle that problem this Saturday. "And drop the trousers. I want to see how they go together." He dropped the trousers and showed me his bikini panties. He had his penis tucked between his legs, and he had a nice smooth presentation in front, although he was too flat above. "You look good in women’s lingerie. Ok, you can put your clothes back on."

He put his clothes back on and I told him to come look at my computer screen. I showed him another picture of Jasmine and explained how plaids don’t go with stripes. As he bent over to delete my last background picture, I could make out the outline of his camisole straps under his shirt. I wondered if anyone else would notice. It wasn’t until Wednesday that one of the girls brought it up at lunch.

Jasmine watched him walk by at lunch and then whispered in a conspiratorial voice, "Did you look at Jason when he walked by?" Everyone shrugged. "Look at his shoulders and upper back. I think the swish is wearing a camisole under his shirt."

"No!"

"You’re kidding. I didn’t see."

"Well look when he goes by next time."

"I’m going to make it a point to stop by his desk this afternoon and get a closer look."

"Wait a minute," I counseled. "If he is wearing a cami underneath, don’t say anything."

"Why not."

"Because you don’t want to spook him. Let’s see if he wears it again. Or if he wears something even more interesting," I giggled.

"Great idea. Let’s see how far he will go if he doesn’t think anyone notices."

"Exactly," I said, and laughed with the girls.

Early in the week I called and made a salon appointment for the two of us. I set up a hair appointment for me at 10:00 on Saturday morning, and a waxing appointment for Jason at 10:30. I wanted him to sit in the salon for 30 minutes and relax, before I sprung the surprise on him. I told the girl that I wanted his legs, chest and underarms waxed.

On Friday afternoon as we were walking to the vending machines I told Jason, "I want you to come to my apartment tomorrow morning. Be there by 9:30, no later."

"Why?"

"Because I have a hair appointment at 10:00 and I don’t want to be late. It’s difficult enough getting these appointments and I don’t want to make my stylist mad."

"And you want me to come with you?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because we have some shopping to do afterwards."

"What if I stay over tonight?"

"Nope. I already have a date tonight." The bounce went out of his step when he heard that. My date was with the real Jasmine. She had asked me to go out with her after work, I had immediately called Gloria and asked if she could meet us at Glitter. After work on Friday, I drove the two of us to Glitter and was able to get a nearby parking space. We walked to the club and both of us were carded.

"Do you come here often?" she asked me.

"I used to. I lived across the street when I was going to school. It was very convenient, and they have great food if you get here early enough."

We found a table and the waitress brought us a couple of drinks and gave us a food menu. We weren’t there more than 15 minutes when Gloria showed up. "Karen," she exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

"I just thought I’d stop by after work and get a bite to eat and a sandwich. Gloria, this is a friend from work, Jasmine. Jasmine, Gloria used to be my roommate." They shook hands. "Gloria will you join us? We were just about to order."

Gloria sat down and we started chatting away. The waitress came back and we placed our orders. I allowed Gloria and Jasmine to talk as much as possible, and I tried to stay out of the conversation. They were making good headway when the food arrived. Gloria was explaining the area to Jasmine, telling her about the other clubs and the nightlife. I finished eating and excused myself, so the two of them could talk in private. I was hoping Gloria could explain my sexual preferences to Jasmine.

As I was returning to the table, Gloria came walking by on her way to the restroom. "Any luck?" I asked.

"No problem," she said. "Jasmine is a real looker, and we have a lot in common. I think I took care of your problem too."

"Thanks," and I went back to the table.

"So Jasmine, what do you think of Glitter?"

"Nice place. I had a nice talk with Gloria, She’s pretty neat."

"Yea, she was a good roommate."

"She asked me to join her club hopping tonight. Do you mind?"

"Not at all. Enjoy yourself. I was feeling tired and was hoping to call it an early evening."

So Gloria had done her job, and there were no hard feelings. Everything worked out for the best.

Saturday morning Jason arrived punctually at 9:30. "Let’s go," I said as I hurried him out the door. He had brought his clean panties and camisoles with him, and I just tossed the bag on the sofa as we left. It took almost 25 minutes to drive to the salon and get a parking space. I made it just in time. I don’t think Jason suspected anything, at least he didn’t show any signs. I left him sitting in the waiting area with a couple of fashion magazines to read.

I was having my hair trimmed when I saw the girl walk up to Jason. He sat in the chair and looked surprised as the girl talked to him. He stood up reluctantly and followed her, giving me a quizzical look as he walked by. I smiled at him and gave him a wink. My stylist finished up about a half hour later and I took a seat in the waiting area. I waited another 40 minutes before Jason came out of the waxing room. He walked over to me and gave me a pained grin. "Don’t forget to tip her," I said. I motioned towards the desk where he was to pay. He walked over and spent at least ten minutes talking to the receptionist. He turned and slowly walked over to me. He was looking at his feet and he wasn’t smiling.

"What’s the matter?"

"I have a little money problem," he said very quietly.

"You didn’t bring enough money, did you?"

He shook his head no.

"Just use your credit card. They’ll take plastic."

"That’s another problem. I tried, but the credit card company said I was at my maximum. They won’t pay." He refused to look up at me.

"For crying out loud," I said. "You maxed your card? How much is the max?"

"$8000."

"I don’t believe it. Have you no common sense?"

He continued to look at he floor and make little wimpering sounds. "Can you help me out, please? I’ll pay you back."

"How?" I snarled. I went over to the receptionist and paid his $75 bill. I gave the girl who served him a ten spot.

I stomped out of the salon and Jason shuffled after me. We went back to the car and got in without saying a word. I sat behind the wheel for a minute, collecting my thoughts. "Jason, eight thousand dollars?" He said nothing. "How many other cards do you have?"

"Just that one."

"What did you spend the money on?"

"Computers and clothes."

"Girl’s clothes?"

"Yea."

"You’ve got to do something about that. How much do you pay back each month?"

"Whatever the minimum is."

"Jason!" I yelled. "They’re charging you 18%. You’ll be in debt for the rest of your life!"

"I know, I know. But no matter how hard I try, I just can’t seem to make things even out."

"That’s because you’re not even trying. That’s $85 that you owe me, and I will keep track!"

I wasn’t sure if I wanted to continue the shopping day. I had some things I wanted him to get, but he didn’t have any money. I sat there and glared at him for a couple seconds before I decided to go ahead and at least get his ears pierced. I’d add it to his bill. I drove us to a local jewelry store and walked him inside.

"Can I help you?" the saleslady asked.

"Yes, my friend here wants to get his ears pierced. I see you have a nice sale in progress."

"Yes we do. With each ear piercing we have a buy one get one free sale."

"Good. He wants two earrings on each ear. One in the lobe and one a bit higher on the outer edge."

"What?" Jason asked.

"Just as you wanted," I said. I stared at him and made it clear that that was what he really wanted. "Right?"

"Yea," he whispered quietly.

"If you’ll follow me over here we can get started," the girl said. Jason sat down and the girl pierced first his right and then his left ear lobe. She gave him some gauze to hold over each lobe to catch the blood. When it had essentially stopped bleeding, she put a small post in each lobe. Then she repeated the procedure slightly above each lobe, and again inserted a post.

"Shall we look at earrings?" she asked. She led us to a display of men’s rings, and I had Jason pick out a small stud for each lobe, and a small ring for above. "If you purchase those rings, you can pick out two of equal or lesser price."

"Let’s look over here," I suggested, and led him to the girl’s counter.

"These are for girls," the saleslady said helpfully.

"We know," I answered. "This is what he is looking for. He wants a couple of drop earrings that he can wear to the clubs." The girl looked surprised, then gave Jason a little smirk. Jason smiled back.

We picked out two sets of drop earrings, one rhinestone and one with a purple stone, and I paid for everything. Jason owed me another $80. I put the receipt in a small pocket of my purse. I would keep track of his debts. When we returned to my apartment I wrote the specifics on the back of each receipt and put them in my jewelry box.

I called Jason and we walked into his room. "I want you to wear nail polish tonight. Let’s pick out a color you like then I’ll help you get ready." He picked out a dark pink with glitter in it. I took him into the living room and sat him down on the floor. I pulled a low coffee table over in front of him and I sat down on the other side. "I was going to have you get a manicure today, but your money situation stopped that. Honestly Jason, we will have to do something about your financial situation."

I picked up a file and began filing his nails. "Your nails are too short to do much with them. All I am going to do is file them round and clean them up. Then we can let them grow. You’ll be able to keep them manicured and shaped with regular attention. You will have to wear nail hardener from now on. All of the time. Is that understood?"

"Yes."

"After I’m done filing them, I will apply one coat of color. After they dry I will apply a second coat. That will be all we’ll do for this weekend. On Sunday, you will remove the color and apply the hardener. But you will leave the polish on your toenails."

"You said ‘this weekend’. Does that mean we’ll continue to do this every weekend?"

"That depends entirely on you."

"You mean I get a choice in this?"

"Heavens no, silly girl. What I decide depends on how you react. You might want to think about your attitude. I might decide to totally humiliate you in front of your family and friends, I might decide to help you achieve your greatest fantasy, or I might do something totally irrational and unheard of." His enthusiastic smile slipped off his face.

"Now watch closely as I apply this polish. You will do the same for me, only I’m going to pick a color that isn’t such a fashion disaster." I smiled as he glanced at the polish and furrowed his brows. I applied his first coat. "Lean back against the couch and stretch your legs out in front of you." I took his shoes and socks off. "Stay there, I’ll be right back. I forgot the cotton balls."

I returned and stuffed a cotton ball between each toe and then I applied the polish to his toenails. "Sit there and relax and don’t touch your nails. It’s tempting to touch them to see if they’re dry. Don’t do it. You’ll regret it. I’ll be back in a few minutes." I went into the kitchen, poured us each a coke and added a couple of ice cubes. I took them back out and handed one to Jason.

"So tell me, how in the hell did you spend $8000?"

"Well I didn’t mean to. It just happened." I snorted. "It just crept up on me. I bought a new computer so that I could load up the latest software for web page publishing. That was $2500. That was probably the single biggest buy. I bought most of my clothes on-line. The problem is you can’t check the size. So I bought several items that I couldn’t even use. I found several good sites for transvestites, and I always found something new that I liked. I ended up with 6 or 7 wigs. I tossed a couple when I moved here because they were so bad. In fact, I purged a lot of items when I packed for here."

"When I first started dressing, I was pretty pathetic. I kept going to personal web pages of the better looking girls and I would study what they were doing, and I would try to emulate that. I bought a lot of styles and colors and things that just didn’t work for me." He sighed. "But I was becoming obsessed. So I kept working at it, and I gradually got better. When I got to the point of respectability, I had to buy a good digital camera with a strobe so that I could take pictures for my own web page. I had to buy odds and ends like a tripod, a trip wire, soft focus lens, software for touch-up work, and pretty soon that all added up to real money." He shrugged his shoulders in an act of confession, "I just didn’t realize what I was doing. I was lost in my fantasy world."

"Did you ever see Tara on line?"

"Yea, I did. She has a beautiful page. Not only is she a great looking girl, but she is willing to push the envelope a little. She gets a bit kinky."

"Is that what you were talking about the other night?"

"Yea."

"What do you know about her?"

"Not much. She’s from Chicago and a lawyer like you."

"Really? That might be useful. Is she straight?"

Jason cringed. "She’s bi."

"Do you like her?"

Again he cringed. "I like her as a crossdresser. I like her feminine persona. She is beautiful, sexy and ultra-passable. I’m in love with that female persona. But knowing what is underneath, I would never go there. I am 100% hetero."

"100%?" I asked with upraised eyebrows.

"99%."

I interrupted the conversation and handed her my nail polish. "Your nails should be dry enough. I want you to do my toes first, than we’ll slide over to the table and I want you to do my fingernails." Jason started stuffing cotton between my toes.

"So you’re 99%?"

"That didn’t come out right. I guess I mean I’m curious. Not for myself. I mean not that I would want to do anything with a man, but I guess I’d like to see a pretty TV with another TV or maybe a real girl."

"What do you think of me?"

He turned red and blushed. I was afraid he was going to spread that polish all over my toes.

"I’m a girl, aren’t I?"

"Oh yes," he sighed.

"Am I pretty?"

"You’re the most beautiful woman that I have ever known. I really mean that."

"Do you like me?"

"Yes."

"Is that why you do what I tell you to do?"

He started becoming defensive. I was pushing into a psychological area that he was unsure of. "Maybe. Mostly because you threatened to expose me."

"I did?"

"Yea. I don’t think I could handle that."

"I never threatened to expose you. Not verbally at least", and I smiled. "You might be surprised what you can handle. You just need some more self-confidence." I thought for a minute and then decided to take Jason to the next level. "Jason, lean over here and kiss me."

"Wh … what?"

"You heard exactly what I said. Don’t ever question me again. Now do as I told you." He got up on his knees and leaned over and gave me a kiss on the lips. I made it a quick kiss. "Did you like that?"

"Yes," he said quietly.

"Good. Now finish my nails." As he returned to my nails, I hit him with the punch line, "Jason, if I ever tell you to kiss Tara, I expect you to do it."

He stopped with my nails and just looked at me. "Ok." I could barley hear him, but I knew I had him scared. We said very little as we finished applying polish to each other’s nails. We each received two coats before I told Jason to go take a nap. "Last weekend was tough on me," I confessed. "I must be getting old. If I want to keep up with you tonight, I need a nap too." I gave him a gentle smile and went to my room.

I woke an hour later and knocked on Jason’s door. "Get up sleepy head." When he answered the door he was still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Jason, it’s time for you to learn to cook. But first, let’s put your breasts on. You have glue for your breast forms right?"

"Yea. I have a couple of bottles in fact."

"Good. Strip, put on your panties with the padded ass, a bra and slip in your breast forms. Bring the glue and boxes for your breast forms."

It’s amazing what you can learn on-line. I was about to put my surfing to practice. He came back out prepared as I had instructed. I took a pen , pulled down his bra so I could see the breast forms. I made a couple of marks on his skin to show where the breast forms sat against his chest. "Ok, take off the forms and bra." I took the glue and painted his skin inside the pen marks. While that dried I laid his breast forms upside down in their holders, and covered their entire underside with the glue. It took about ten minutes for them to dry.

I picked up the breast forms and stuck them against his skin. "Hold that one while I press on the second one. Now let me hold them both and I want you to put on your bra." I didn’t want them to slip before he could get the bra on. I thought they would stay in place already, but I wanted the bra to hold them in place until they were firmly adhered. Once he had the bra in place I said, "Go put your robe on, and then I will give you your first cooking lesson."

When he came to the kitchen I told him, "I’m going to show you how to cook pasta."

"But I don’t like pasta."

"I know. Now let’s get started."

He was attentive enough and I think he learned a little. At the end of dinner I said, "Stack the dishes in the sink. You can clean up tomorrow morning. And remember to stay in your negligee and robe tomorrow morning."

"Ok."

"You should say ‘yes ma’am’ when I give you instructions."

"Yes ma’am."

"That’s better. Now go shave, and shave close!"

He returned from the bathroom about twenty minutes later. "Were you bleeding?"

"Yea."

Is that what took so long?"

Yes."

"You’re going to have to get better at that. Now, take off your robe and bra."

He did as I told him. I gripped his breast forms and jiggled them. They held tight in place. "Jump," I told Jason. I watched his breasts bounce up and down, lagging behind just a bit. They flopped up and down and looked very real. "That’s great. They really look good. I’m impressed. Let’s get you into your corset." Before Jason could put on his corset I gave him a pair of panty hose. "First things first I said."

I tied him into his corset, then gave him a camisole and he slid it over his faux tits. Without help from any other clothes, he had a nice figure. I was impressed.

"Do you want to wear a skirt or dress tonight?"

"Dress."

"Wrong. You’re not ready. Let’s look at your skirts. What do you have that is about knee length?" He had 8 or 9 choices. I couldn’t believe how many clothes he had. We picked out a tight, silk floral print that hung nice and flowed with his movements. "I want a sleeveless top that can show off your freshly waxed pits. Something tight that will emphasize your boobs and narrow waist." We found a pretty white top with a deep V-neck and a bit longer than his waistline. We tried it tucked and out and decided it should be left out.

"You handled 3 inch heels last weekend, so let’s do it again." I helped him into the heels and then found a nice necklace and bracelet. "I’d love to give you those nice drop earrings, but you need some healing time first. Bring your makeup into my room. You can use my vanity. I’m not going to help you tonight, I want you to apply your own makeup. I’ll supervise and tell you what to do."

I learned a lesson that night. Don’t dress Jasmine before she puts on her makeup. She had powder all over her top and we had to switch to a different top after her makeup was finished. We tried on a couple of her wigs and even though it wasn’t the best match, I had her wear the long red wig. It made her feel more feminine because she could swing her hair around. I spritzed her with perfume and then told her to go fill her purse while I started getting ready.

When we were ready to go, I asked to see her purse. "Do you have Kleenex?"

"Yes."

Do you have a tampon?"

"No."

"What did I tell you last week?"

"All girls always carry a tampon in their purse in case of emergency." I went into the bathroom and retrieved one for her.

As I handed her the tampon I said, "Don’t ever forget again. There will be a penalty next time. Understand?"

"Yes ma’am."

"Good answer, Jasmine. Let’s go party."

I took her to another gay nightclub. Like Glitter, this one also catered to both men and women. I didn’t think she was ready for an all female club. My plan was to take her to mixed clubs, then male then all female and finally out into the hetero world. It wasn’t as noisy as Glitter and I was able to talk with her throughout the evening. I pointed out the way the girls dressed, and walked and how they held their hands and arms and gave her instructions on girl body language.

We danced several times and I allowed her to have two drinks. I took her to the girl’s room a couple of times to freshen her makeup and become more comfortable in the girl’s environment. There were a couple of crossdressers there and Jasmine talked with each of them. None of them was that convincing, but that didn’t stop her from collecting more e-mail addresses.

We left the club around 2:00 A.M. and I took her to an all night coffee house. We sipped coffee and continued our girl talk. It was pleasant evening and we enjoyed the walk back to the car. Several times during the night I had to remind her how she should walk and comport herself. She seemed to be either slow at learning it, or sloppy in remembering it.

When we reached my apartment I helped her out of her heels and corset, and I watched over her to make sure that she was thorough in removing her makeup and applying her cold cream. I sent her to her bedroom to change into her negligee. She was still wearing her wig when she came out for her goodnight kiss. I preferred her with the wig, and in conjunction with the breast forms that she was still wearing I thought she looked nice. Before I sent her to bed I complimented her hair and general appearance. "I don’t want you to get your hair cut anymore. You’re going to let it grow out, understand?"

"Yes ma’am."

"Did you have a good time tonight?"

"Yes ma’am."

"Sleep well," and I gave her a quick peck on the cheek.

Sunday morning Jasmine remembered what she had been told. She put a robe over her negligee and wore her wig. She had the kitchen cleaned up before I came out of my bedroom. I sent her down to get the paper while I headed to the bathroom. "I can’t go down to the lobby like this," she complained. "I don’t have any makeup on and I look ridiculous."

"That’s too bad," I sad with mock concern. "Do it anyway. If you see anyone, smile and say ‘good morning’ ".

When she returned I asked if she ran into anyone. "No."

"See, you get worried over the most inconsequential things. Now go make us some breakfast, I’m hungry."

On Monday morning I slipped a pair of thigh-highs along with panties and a camisole into her bag. When she came into my office she handed me the bag and I glanced in. "What are these?" I asked as I took out a pair of panties.

"I ran out of my men’s underwear. Can you bring some back to me tomorrow?"

"Sorry sweetie, no can do."

"Why not?"

"Because I threw them all away. You don’t have any."

"How could you do that?" he demanded.

"Easy. You know that trash container by the elevator in my garage? I just throw them in there when I go home every night."

"But now I don’t have any."

"You don’t need any. From now on you will wear nothing but women’s panties. And don’t whine about it, you prefer them and we both know it. And the same goes with camisoles. I don’t want you to wear your men’s undershirts anymore. You will wear nothing but camisoles. Lord knows you have enough. Now quickly before anyone gets here, show me what you have on."

Jason dropped his trousers and showed me his panties and nylons. Then he took off his shirt and showed me his camisole. "You look pretty in girl’s clothes Jason. You were born to wear them. And you have very nice legs. You need to show them off more. Ok. Put everything back on, and let’s take a look at today’s picture of Jasmine."

Jason and I looked at Jasmine’s picture and talked about her choice of accessories with the dress that she wore. Her pierced ears were going to make things easier for her in that area. She deleted the picture and left for her desk. As usual, I reloaded the picture and put it in my Govt directory.

At lunch, the topic du jour was Jason’s earrings.

"How utterly girly. Two rings in each ear. There is no doubt anymore."

"You’re right. He’s not only gay, but I think he’s a transvestite."

"No. Yea that would make sense."

"Is he wearing a camisole today?"

"I’m pretty sure he is. What a swish."

"He is just too hilarious."

"You meant just too sad."

"I’ve got to tell Sue in administration. She’ll love this."

And so the character assassination proceeded. Poor Jason.

Jason came to my office and asked me to join him for a soda. "I never asked you Jason. How did you like your waxing?"

"For my legs it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. But waxing my chest did hurt."

"Do you like the smooth, clean feel? Can you notice it under your clothes."

"Yes and yes. Especially when I’m in my negligee. The fabric feels so smooth and cool against my skin. I love it," he smiled.

"How about your thigh-highs? How do they feel?"

"I like ‘em, but as the day goes on the elastic is cutting into my thighs more and more. I keep catching myself reaching down to tug on them."

"You’ll get used to them and they’ll feel just like second nature to you. Isn’t it fun dressing in girl’s clothes?"

A huge smile spread across his face, "Yea, it is. Thanks."

"Don’t thank me yet," I warned. "You might want to change your mind later."

"I doubt it."

Tuesday did not start out as a good day for Jason. He came into my office with his little bag and he set in on my desk. He closed the door and dropped his pants without saying a word. He pulled off his shirt and showed me his dainty underwear. "Every time you show me your undies, I am amazed at how pretty you are in lingerie. You truly were born to be a sissy."

He didn’t respond to my baiting, so I asked, "Jason, you’re not talking much this morning. What’s wrong?"

"I have to move."

"Move out of your loft?"

"Yea. The lady’s father passed away last night. The funeral is later this week. She said that her mother couldn’t continue living alone and would need to move in with her. She needs my room back."

"That’s too bad," I said. "Do you know what you’re going to do?"

"I’m not sure. I don’t have my parent’s money yet, so I still don’t have any money for a security deposit. There is only one thing that I can think of."

"What’s that?"

"Can I move in with you? Can I live in your second bedroom? I’ll pay rent."

For once he caught me off guard. I fell back into my chair. He stood there with his big puppy dog eyes pleading and begging. I knew I would have to say yes. But not right away. I wanted to think things over first. I’d tell him later. "That’s a big request Jason. Let me think about it, ok?"

"Ok. Do you want to show me today’s picture?"

"Let’s skip it for today. Why don’t you go back to your desk and get to work."

I spent the morning thinking about Jason and how to handle his request. I wasn’t going to turn him down, I just wanted to think about the best way to handle it. I reached into my desk and pulled out a disk with standard law forms on it. I slipped it into the computerand pulled up the form for power of attorney and put his and my names in the proper places. I modified it slightly and when I was satisfied I printed it out.

I called Jason and asked him to come to my office. He knocked on the door and announced his presence. "You call?"

"Yes Jason. Come in and close the door." He closed the door. "Sit down." He sat. "I’ve been thinking over your request and I have decided to let you move in with me."

A huge exhale of relief come from Jason. "Thank you, thank …" I cut him off.

"Just a minute, its not that easy. There are going to be some rules."

"Ok,"

"First, I’m not letting Jason move in, I’m letting Jasmine move in." His eyebrows shot up and he gave me a quizzical look, but he said nothing. "The only time I want to see Jason is when he goes to and returns from work. The rest of the time I expect to see Jasmine properly dressed. Is that acceptable?"

"I can do that," he replied. I could see that he was apprehensive, and he should have been.

"Jason will be expected to continue our dress-up game at work, or a variation thereof. Can you do that?"

"I guess."

"No guessing. Yes or no? You will be expected to sign this contract."

Gulp. "Yes."

"Next, I expect Jasmine to help around the house; cooking, cleaning, laundry and the sort. Will you help?"

"Absolutely." That was an easy agreement for Jason. "What about rent?"

"I’m getting to that. It is going to be very expensive." He swallowed. "I have here a form for power of attorney. You will give me complete control over your finances. You will be given $50 a week for your own expenses. You can spend that on anything you want. I will set aside $100 per week for Jasmine to use at the beauty salon, shopping or other female necessities. She can spend that money only with my approval. The rest of your money will be split in half. One half will go towards paying off your credit card and the other half will be put in escrow for you. It will be your savings. In exchange for this, you will have no rent and no expenses — other than your food. Do you agree?"

"I think so."

"Here, take this contract back to your desk and read it thoroughly. If you agree, sign it and bring it back to me." He took the contract and left. I knew he would be back with the signed agreement. I’d have it by the end of the day. When our afternoon break rolled around he came to my office and gave me the signed forms.

Out in the hallway I said to him, "I’ll ask you one last time Jason, are you comfortable with the contract? Can you live up to it?"

"I’ll be honest, I’m a little nervous. No, I’m scared. I don’t know how far to trust you, but I am going to trust you. I just hope you will treat me right."

"Jason, that’s a stupid wish. Don’t ever wish for people to treat you right. Always put yourself in a position so you don’t have to trust. Take some control of your life."

"I’ll try." he said. I started laughing. "What’s so funny?"

"You’ll try. Jason, you just did the opposite. Are you sure that you want to do this? I don’t want you to whine and force me to kick you out later. There is no turning back. You will live by my rules."

"I don’t think I have a choice. I put myself in this position with my stupid spending habits."

"Ok, I hope you don’t live to regret this. How much stuff do you have to move?"

"Not much."

"Can it fit in my car?"

"Yea, I’m pretty sure."

"Then we’ll move you tonight. Just so you know, I’m leaving as soon as we are done here, and I will go to your bank and present this power of attorney form and take control of your account. I’ll be back by 5:00 to pick you up."

I did exactly what I said. At 5:00 I returned to the office and collected the things from my office, shut down my computer and picked up Jason. As we walked to the elevator I handed him a money envelope.

"What’s this," he asked.

"This week’s $50. You are going to have to learn how to be frugal from now on. I want you to start brown bagging lunch tomorrow. The cafeteria is too expensive for you."

"You’re serious aren’t you?"

"Absolutely, sweetie."

We spent the evening moving him into his new home.

The next morning I reminded him to pack his lunch. "Also, before you get fully dressed, I want you to come show me what you are wearing for lingerie. I want to see panties, a camisole and stockings to begin with."

"What do you mean to begin with?"

"Eventually, we are going to expand your wardrobe, sweetie. Now go do as I say."

"But, I’m not sure …"

"Jason!" I raised my voice. "It’s getting late and I will not debate this with you. You signed the agreement now get over it!"

We were the first to arrive at work and we both went to our desks and began our day. I put a new background on my computer, but didn’t bother showing it to Jason. It wasn’t necessary anymore. About 9:00 I called Jasmine and asked her to come to my office.

"Karen, how’s it going?"

"Good. Look, I have a favor to ask you. You and the rest of the girls."

"What is it?"

"As you know, I take a soda break every afternoon with Jason. He told me yesterday that he has money problems and can’t afford to eat at the cafeteria anymore. He is going to brown bag his lunch. Well, I thought it would be nice to invite him to bring his lunch and sit with us in the cafeteria. What do you think?"

"With the little fruit? Why would I want to do that?"

"Well first, if we don’t he won’t be walking through the cafeteria showing us what he is wearing for the day. Second, it let’s us get a closer look at what he’s wearing. Third, it might be fun to surround him with girl talk. It might be interesting to see what comes out. I just think it would be nice to him, and advantageous for us."

"But we only have a table for four."

"We could move to one of the round tables. Ask the other girls and see if they will agree. Ok? As a favor? And if they agree, we still don’t say anything to him about his clothes or earrings, right?"

"I’ll check and see."

"Thanks."

Jasmine returned about an hour later. "Ok, we’ve agreed that we will try it for a week and see if it works out."

"Great, thanks. Tell everyone thanks. Do you want to go invite him?"

"Me? Why me?"

"It would be a nice gesture is all. Please?"

She shook her head as she walked out the door.

About half an hour later Jason walked in. "Karen, Jasmine asked me to join you for lunch. She insisted. I don’t know if I can."

"What did you tell her?"

"I said I wasn’t sure."

"Go right back to her and say thank you, it is most gracious of you to invite me and I accept."

"But I’m nervous about saying something that I shouldn’t. You know, about you letting me stay with you."

"Act shy and say little for the first several days until you become more accustomed to the situation. You can do it, sweetie. Now go."

Lunch actually went quite well. Jason said little, was polite and listened to the girls rip everyone else apart. It was a real awakening for her. "Is that what real girls talk about?" she asked me that night. "Was that a typical conversation?"

"It sure was sweetie. It’s something you need to learn about if your going to be a passable girl."

 
 
CHAPTER SEVEN
 
 

Jason, Jasmine and I soon fell into a comfortable routine. Each morning I told Jason what to wear, and he would model it for me. I had him switch between different styles of panties, camisoles, and stockings. When we returned home each night, Jasmine changed clothes, put on makeup and a wig. Jasmine dressed a bit more dressy than you would expect at home, but we used each and every night to practice her fashion sense as well her deportment and voice. On weekends we began dressing Jasmine to the nines and taking her to different clubs. All gay clubs.

Jasmine was getting better with her walk and talk and deportment. Her hair was growing longer, and we began experimenting with styling it. I felt it might be long enough to style and wear in public. We began with curlers, hot iron curlers or a blow dryer. I wasn’t very good at hair styling, but we continued to try and try. I finally gave up.

I had decided that Jasmine was ready to step into the real world, and I knew she couldn’t do it with the wigs that she had. I asked Jasmine for help. She spent a lot of time on the Internet and I thought that maybe we could find some help there. I told her that I wanted to take her out into the real public; the world of heterosexual night clubs. And I emphasized that we needed to have her appearance as perfect as possible. We needed hair help. Her job was to check the Internet and find a local business or woman who could help.

Jasmine came through. She gave me the name of a local salon that serviced the transvestite and crossdressing community. I called and explained the situation. The problem was Jasmine’s hair wasn’t quite long enough for a real cut and style, so I wanted a best attempt for one night. The stylist suggested something a bit more permanent than a one night style.

"What about hair extensions?" she asked.

"Tell me about it," I responded.

"We use 100% real human hair. It is virtually undetectable from your own. We can attach hair shafts of any length . They are semi-permanently attached to the existing hair with a keratin adhesive. Chemically it is very similar to the hair itself, so it bonds very tightly and withstands the normal care and abuse that hair goes through. The extensions can then be cut, colored or styled to match the existing hair. It can last up to 6 or 8 weeks with proper care. After that time, you need to stop in and we will fill in missing or damaged strands. The attachments are close to the scalp and difficult to notice. Pulling the hair tight, as in a pony tail makes the attachments slightly more visible, but from a distance it is still very difficult to notice."

"How much does it cost?"

"That depends on many factors."

"Just give me a range."

"$200 to $400."

"Ouch. How long does it take?"

"Probably 3 to 5 hours, depending on coloring, cutting and styling."

"Do you have to color? Can you match the existing hair color?"

"Usually we can come very close. But for best results, we advise coloring."

"I’m sure you do," I laughed. "Seriously, we’re a little short on change right now. Can you match the color and save us a few bucks?"

"Probably, ma’am. We really won’t know until we have a chance to sit down for a consultation. Can we make an appointment?"

"Is this weekend open?"

"I’m sorry, but our stylist trained for this operation only works weekdays. Are you available this Friday?"

Big sigh, "Sure. Mark us down for the morning."

"Is ten ok?"

"Sure. Make the appointment for Jasmine. I’ll give you my telephone number."

I informed Jason that he would have to take a vacation day on Friday.

"Why."

"Because you’re going to get hair extensions."

"Aren’t they very expensive?"

"Yes they are. This is going to shoot your beauty salon budget for a long time. No more leg waxing for a while."

"That’s too bad," and he smiled.

"Yes it is," I responded. "Your hair grows in much slower and much softer when you wax."

"Is it really worth the cost? I mean couldn’t I just buy a really nice wig?"

"Maybe. But we can get your money’s worth with the weave."

"How?’ Jason asked.

"The stylist said they can last up to 8 weeks. By then your own hair will be long enough and we can have it styled then."

"Wait a minute. You expect me to wear this weave for 8 weeks? I thought this was just for the weekend. I can’t do that."

"Why not?"

"What will I do for work?"

"We’ll tie it back it in a pony tail."

"I mean what will I tell everyone?" He sounded desperate.

"No problem, I’ve got you covered there. You just tell everyone that you are joining a local community play and you need long hair for your character. Simple, no?"

"And what character and what play would that be?"

"Hair."

"Hair?"

"Hair."

Jason started laughing. "You can’t possibly be serious."

"Serious as a heart attack," I smiled.

"No … you can’t," he began to whimper.

"Of course I can, and I will. Have you ever seen Hair?"

"I’ve never heard of it."

"My, my. You are an under-educated youth aren’t you? Go to the library this week and rent the video. I suggest that the rest of this week you watch it several times and memorize it. When you tell people that you are in the play, they are going to ask lots of questions and you better know the answers."

"Is it playing somewhere?"

"How would I know?"

"But you said that I should say that I am in the play. If it isn’t playing anywhere, everyone will know that I’m lying." He was getting hyper over this little detail. I really didn’t care.

"Figure it out, Jason. Lie. Make something up. Say its just starting at such a little community playhouse that no one outside of your neighborhood has ever heard of it. Tell them you are a transvestite and you are practicing your hobby. I don’t care, sweetie. My God! I’m bending over backwards to help you out, to help you enjoy what you love, and all I get is bitching and whining! If it’s too fucking much for you, get the fuck out!" I had gotten loud and abrupt. I was getting fed up with his constant bitching.

"I’m sorry," he whimpered. "I do appreciate what you are doing for me."

"Like no friggin’ rent for instance?"

"Yes." He was very contrite. "I’ll think of something. I’ll handle it. Please, I really appreciate everything that you have done for me. Really. I’m sorry. I’ll do whatever you say."

"Damn," I said and I left the room shaking my head. I congratulated myself all the way to my room. I hadn’t planned that, but I had just taken total control of his life. Wow!

Just for the fun of it, the next morning I made him wear a pair of one-inch hoop earrings in his lobes. The girls complimented him at lunch.

"They’re very sexy, Jason."

"I love the way they compliment your eyes," snicker, snicker.

"You look so sweet, darling."

They looked so nice that I made them a permanent addition to his panties, stockings and camisole. I was looking forward to expanding the wardrobe.

Friday eventually rolled around. After his shower, I had Jason glue on his breast forms and put on a bra. I made him wear a panty girdle with a padded rear end. I told him to put on a garter belt and stockings and 3-inch heels. I helped him into his corset and we pulled it as tight as we could. We picked out a short skirt and a sleeveless Tee for him to wear. "No makeup, except for a light lipstick," I said. "We’ll do your nails this afternoon."

"What about a wig to wear on the way there?"

"It’ll just get in the way. Let’s just go as you are."

"I look like a freak."

"You’ll look fine when we leave the salon. Get your purse and let’s go. And make sure that you have your tampon."

We drove to the salon and walked in. The receptionist was expecting us, but I think she was still a bit shocked by Jasmine’s appearance. She wasn’t totally ugly, but without appropriate hair she was obviously a he.

"Gina will be your stylist today, Jasmine. Can I get you a coffee or soft drink?"

"Thanks, a diet coke would be nice."

"And you miss?" she looked at me.

"Coffee, cream and sugar, thanks."

Gina showed up immediately. She took us to her station, which was very secluded. She immediately tried to calm Jasmine’s nerves and set the mood. "Jasmine, you like very nice and I promise you that when you leave you will not believe how beautiful you are. You have a tremendous number of colors, lengths, and styles to choose from. We’ll try and work together to give you a look that is uniquely yours. Something that will enhance your individual beauty and make you feel as feminine as a goddess. There are many questions that I need to ask and the first one is, what do you want to accomplish? What is your goal?"

And thus began Jasmine’s transformation into a truly beautiful girl. As I have said before, she already had a nice figure and her face, when made-up, was very feminine and pretty. Her hair and nails had been her weak points, and Gina eliminated one of those weak points. I stayed with Jasmine the entire time (I even took some pictures) except for the bathroom breaks. Gina was amazing. She was a talented artist and a fantastic psychologist. She made Jasmine feel so comfortable and feminine that I had to compliment her.

"How did you learn your ‘bedside manner’?" I asked. "Have you been handling TVs a long time?"

"Jasmine is only my second customer. But I did practice on my little brothers when I was younger. And Karen, this isn’t difficult. She wants to be treated like every other girl. You just have to remember that this is all new, and you have to explain a bit more than normal. I love doing this. I would much rather turn an ugly duckling boy into a pretty girl than deal with a snobby, rich, sorority girl. And just between you and me, she’s a cutey. I envy you." She gave me a smug smile and returned to Jasmine.

After interviewing Jasmine, Gina set to work. She had some hair that perfectly matched Jasmine’s color and she told us flat out that it was sheer luck. One in a thousand. Jasmine had looked through several hairstyle books, and she and Gina decided on shoulder length hair. Gina pointed out many different styles that would be available with the extensions that Gina would give her. Gina explained several times the limitations, instructions on care, no-nos and general maintenance. Brushing and combing would have to be very delicate and careful and done with a soft-paddle brush. Jasmine would have to tie her hair back in a braid or ponytail for sleeping. She would have to make sure the hair and especially the roots were dry after washing. Her hair would tend to dry out if she washed it more than every other day. She would have to carefully separate the strands every morning and there were a few other items to remember.

Gina said that she would set Jasmine’s hair in a curly style for the weekend. But she also handed Jasmine a couple of small pamphlets on hair care, extension care and some styles that would go with the style that she was getting. "Do you have much experience with setting and styling your own hair?" Gina asked.

"None at all."

Gina looked at me, "That will be your job then. Study that styling pamphlet. There are some really cute and easy styles for Jasmine’s hair. Help her out, she has a lot to learn." Then she returned to Jasmine, "And Jasmine, if you would like, you can come back anytime and I’ll give you a nice wash and set and I’ll explain everything I do as I style your hair. The first appointment will be half price."

Jasmine was sincerely appreciative. "Thanks Gina. You’re really kind. Money is tight, but one way or another, I’ll be back." Then for the first time that I could remember, Jasmine said something truly funny and forward, "Gina, will you marry me?" We all laughed and Gina flashed her wedding ring in Jasmine’s face.

Gina spent a long time with Jasmine. She sectioned Jasmine’s hair, pinned each section out of the way, and took a small strand of Jasmine’s hair and fastened an extension to it. The extensions were attached with a proprietary adhesive which was activated with a tweezer like heat unit. The attachments were about 2 centimeters from the scalp and very tiny. After attaching a row of extensions, Gina released the next section of hair and attached the next group. It took almost two hours to slowly work her way around Jasmine’s scalp. When all of the hair was attached, she led Jasmine to the sink. "I’m going to wash and shampoo your hair so it will be wet. That makes it lie flat and makes it much easier to cut the hair. Almost all haircuts are done with the hair wet. I’m going to trim the extensions to an even length. All strands will be allowed to hang to the bottom of your style. I’m not going to layer your hair. This will make it easier for you to pull it behind for a ponytail. It will look much better that way, and when you want, it can look like a boy’s ponytail."

Jasmine looked at me and grinned. She had the look of a woman who couldn’t believe how wonderful her life had become.

"This style still leaves you many options for styling and curling. I’m sure you are going to want it nice and curly when you go out clubbing. Am I right?"

"Girl, you are so right. I love long, curly hair. You can’t make it curly enough," and Jasmine beamed a huge smile. She was loving the attention and the possibilities.

"And you will find this styling easy. You can use wet sets, hot curlers or even a hot curling iron. Now let me warn you, curling irons are the most difficult to master and can be the most damaging. Be very careful with the hot iron, don’t let it touch the adhesive and attachment area. I’d leave them alone until you have plenty of experience with curlers. Hair curlers are messy, but they’re sexy, feminine and fun."

"Ok," she sighed. Jasmine was having the time of her life.

"So just relax, while I turn you into Chicago’s newest diva. Don’t forget me when you become rich and famous."

Gina, shampooed Jasmine’s hair, wrapped a towel around her head and led her to a styling station. She quickly combed out the extensions and hair and trimmed them to a uniform length just above the shoulders. Next, Gina pulled over a cart loaded with curlers and accessories. She parted Jasmines hair down the center and then began sectioning the rest of her hair. Gina then used small curlers to roll up her hair. After pinning the last curler, Gina took Jasmine’s hand and led her to the dryers. After checking the air temperature and getting Jasmine a Cosmpolitan, I pulled Gina aside.

"Gina, you have been an absolute darling today. Jasmine will never forget this day."

"I hope not, Gina agreed. "This is an important moment for all girls; their first salon visit!"

"Can I ask you to do one more thing?"

"Sure."

"Would you wax her eyebrows?"

"Sorry, I don’t do that, but we have someone who can. Will that be alright?"

"Sure."

"What do you want? Thin a little or thin a lot? Lot’s of arch?"

"Thin them down to an average level. Give them a bit of arch. I want her to look feminine, but not like some drag star who paints them on."

"I think I know what you are looking for. I’ll have a Janice handle everything."

She left Jasmine under the dryer for about 40 minutes. Then she led her over to Janice’s station. "Janice is going to clean up your brows. Don’t worry, I’ve told her not to go to extremes. But with this do that I’m giving you, you have to have nice eyes. And your brows are critical to the right look. Jasmine, when were done with you Chicago will worship at your feet."

Janice introduced herself, then took a small stick and spread a small amount of warm wax under Jasmine’s brow. She pressed a cloth against the wax, pressed it down, then ripped it off. Jasmine didn’t complain at all. Janice then took her tweezers and began cleaning up the brows and around them. She repeated her efforts on the other eyebrow, then pronounced Jasmine beautiful. She walked Jasmine back to Gina’s station.

"Jasmine, your brows look perfect. You are going to love your total look. Let’s unroll these curlers and see what we have. Gina unrolled the first curler, and Jasmine’s hair popped back into its curled position. Jasmine was watching in the mirror and she marveled at that single, perfect curl lying on the side of her head. It was beautiful. Gorgeous. The epitome of what she had always dreamed about. Jasmine was becoming a beautiful woman. Nothing in the entire world could be better.

Gina carefully unrolled each curler and placed it and it’s pin in their proper bucket. After all of the curlers had been removed she stood behind Jasmine and they both looked in the mirror. "What do you think Jasmine, should we leave them right where they are?"

"Gina, you have no idea how thrilled I am. I love the curls. Yes, can we leave them right where they are?"

Gina laughed, "We could, Jasmine. I love the look of those little curls as much as you do. But trust me, they will look more ‘finished’ and pretty after I brush them out. With this much hair, you are going to love the volume and flow of your style. I’m going to frame your face, because you have such a great facial shape. I wouldn’t do this with the normal oval face shape. But you face is rounder, and I’m going to make you beautiful. Prepare to break hearts, girl."

Gina was right. Not only was she a wonderful stylist, but she was also a phenomenal psychologist. Jasmine was finally finished. She was beautiful inside and out. Her style was perfect for her facial structure and she had never ‘felt’ prettier in her life. For Jasmine, the price was worth every penny. For me, the banker, I was wondering how I had come to the point where I was subsidizing Jasmine’s metamorphosis. But she did look good. Mmmmmm.

We thanked Gina and returned home. We had a late lunch and then I gave Jasmine a home-made manicure. Her nails had been growing for a couple of weeks and they were getting longer, but still had a ways to go. I removed the hardener from her nails, then took a file and shaped them the best that I could. I applied two coats of her glittery pink polish.

We went through her wardrobe and picked out her clothes and jewelry for the evening. She chose a black dress with a dramatic asymmetrical hemline. The hem started at her right knee and ended at her left calf. It had long sleeves with a deep surplice neckline and ruched sides to accent her thin waist. For hose she chose black stockings with a back seam. They would go nicely with her open toed 3-inch black velvet heels. Jasmine decided to go with silver jewelry including a silver pendant with a large faux-ruby and three smaller ones. It would sit over her cleavage and look very smart. She chose large 3-inch drop earrings and finished it with silver bangle bracelets and a couple of silver rings.

I helped Jasmine tuck her new hair into a shower cap and then sent her to the bathroom for a long, fragrant bubble bath. I told her to make sure she shaved her legs and armpits. After her bath she dusted herself with perfumed powder, shaved ultra close, brushed her teeth and returned to her room. I had dressed while she was in the bathroom, so I was available to help her dress. After pulling up her padded panties, I joined her in her room and assisted with her corset. She put a black brassiere over her breast forms and had a great start to a beautiful, thin figure. I had to help her slide on her stockings and attach them to her garters. I instructed Jasmine to wear a black, thigh high slip.

Next, I led her to my vanity and sat her down in front of the mirror. I supervised her make-up application, but only had to make one or two very minor comments. Jasmine was progressing very nicely in her make-up application technique and choice of proper cosmetics. She finished with her lip liner and lipstick, and then I presented her with gloss to put over the lipstick. It made her lips shine.

We both returned to her room where she put on her dress and heels. She looked very pretty. I mean VERY pretty. She added her jewelry and we were almost ready. I took her back to my vanity, seated her and fluffed out her hair, brushing it back into place and spraying it with a strong hair spray.

"Stand up," I ordered. "Turn around. Now twirl around." She twirled and the hem of her dress flew up, but didn’t expose her slip. "My gosh but you make one beautiful woman. What do you think?"

Jasmine had been bubbling ever since we returned from the stylist, but she was reaching a crescendo. "I just love how I look. I feel so pretty and feminine. I’ve been waiting my entire life for this, and now its here," she gushed. "I couldn’t be any happier than I am right now. Thank you for everything you have done, Karen. I love you."

"Careful," I said through a grin. "Don’t go all mushy on me. Do you have your purse?"

"No let me go prepare it." She had chosen a small black clutch purse, so she had to choose carefully what she was going to take. She returned to the living room and held up a tampon. "Look what I remembered." She smiled and dropped it into her purse. "Jasmine ready and reporting for her date, Ms. Karen," she announced.

"Let’s do it then. Head up, elbows tight, walk like the beautiful, confident woman you are Jasmine." I took her to my car and opened her door. She sat down and very properly swung both her feet into the car. She straightened her dress and then announced that she was ready. I closed her door and entered the driver’s side. "You know Jasmine, we are way too beautiful for this ole rust bucket. I have to get me some new wheels one of these days."

We went to a nice downtown restaurant. It was a dressier establishment, but the prices weren’t astronomical. Money was a bit tight for the two of us. The maitre’d escorted us to our seats and we received a few polite looks as we walked by. We sat opposite each other at a small, intimate table. The room was on the dark side and there was a small candle on our table. The flickering flame caused the light to dance off Jasmine’s jewelry and lips. The lip gloss she was wearing really made her lips look luscious. Almost kissable I thought. She was very attractive and I was beginning to become more attracted than I had anticipated.

The busboy came back and filled our water glasses. The waiter arrived and handed us a wine list. "It is my honor to serve two beautiful ladies this evening," he said as he gave us both a large and friendly smile. Would the ladies like a drink?"

"I think we will both have a glass of wine. Let me check the wine list first."

"Certainly," he said. "I am sorry but it is mandatory, may I see some ID?"

He looked at my driver’s license and handed it back with a smile. Jasmine handed him her license and the smile disappeared from his face. A rather gruff, "Oh, one of those," slipped out of his mouth. He dropped the license next to her plate and turned back to me, "I’ll return when you have read the menu."

The rest of the night he was cold and at times surly towards the two of us. He rarely talked to Jasmine, preferring to talk to her through me. We also seemed to get a lot of walk-bys and side looks from the rest of the staff. Half way through the meal I asked, "How is Jasmine enjoying her first evening out?"

She gave a little grimace and said, "I’m feeling awkward. Everyone seems to be interested in walking by and looking at me. I don’t really like it."

"Unfortunately, our waiter has a problem with your real sex. If it wasn’t for checking your ID no one would have known. But I think in a way it is very positive."

"How do you see that?"

"I think you are so beautiful that no one can believe you aren’t anything other than a beautiful woman. They’re walking by to see how passable and beautiful you are. In a way, I think you pass with flying colors!" That made her feel better.

"As soon as were done with the entrée, we’ll get out of here. We’ll check out some of the clubs and once were in, no one will think you’re anything but one hot chick. It’ll get better, I promise." And it did. We went to two upper-end clubs and after the bouncers checked IDs, there was not a single negative incident the rest of the night. But there were several fun incidents. The boys loved Jasmine, and Jasmine loved the accomplishment of fooling the boys.

Jasmine was indeed one hot chick and she got plenty of attention from the bachelors and bachelor wannabes. I had dressed much more conservative than Jasmine, and I had done that on purpose. I wanted her to get the attention when we reached the clubs, and my plan worked perfectly. Several times we were approached by a pair of guys, and the best looking one, the alpha-male, always went for Jasmine. A couple other times, a single guy came over and hit on Jasmine. She deserved the attention and her mood improved perceptibly as the night went on.

Twice we agreed to dance when asked, and we also danced a couple of dances together. Jasmine wasn’t very good at small talk, and I usually kept the conversation flowing. She was surprised at how fast the men moved towards physical contact. It startled her the first time a guy put his arm around her waist and led her towards the dance floor. After that, someone was always touching her arm or hand or even pushing her hair off her face. That actually made her the happiest. It was obvious that her extensions were passing the test.

As the night moved along, someone else was becoming more interested in Jasmine. That someone was me. I was starting to get turned-on and I wasn’t sure why. I knew that she was a he underneath, but on the surface she was a beautiful woman. She was really hot, but I had never been drawn towards a woman before. I couldn’t decide which side of her was pulling me towards her. I thought it was her physical male side, but I continuously thought about her female attractiveness. I liked the idea that men found her attractive and the women saw her as pretty. I found her hair sexy, her lips inviting, her figure shapely and her personality demure. I was confused as to why I was becoming excited when I saw her walk, or cross her legs, or flip her hair. But I too started to touch her more. I couldn’t resist. She was small in most features and looked very feminine. Why did I find that so attractive? I rubbed her arm when we talked. I touched her hair several times as I complimented her on her looks. I even reached down and squeezed her ass and called her Cally. I was subconsciously trying to seduce her. Maybe it wasn’t even subconscious. As the evening wore on I wanted her more and more. I couldn’t keep my hands off her.

I don’t know if Jasmine Cally realized what I was doing or not. Maybe she did, maybe her senses were satiated on everything going on; the men, the dancing, the soft clothes, the aroma of perfume and sweat, or the tickle of new curly hair brushing against the soft skin on her face and neck. Maybe it was just my imagination, but I thought she was responding to my attention. She smiled continuously, and her hand movements became more expansive as the evening wore on.

But the night eventually began winding down. The boys were asking for telephone numbers and offering rides or late night coffee stops. Boys and girls were starting to couple up, and the clubs were starting to thin out. It was time for us to go. Jasmine was so hyped on adrenaline that she wasn’t ready to leave yet. She was totally immersed in her role and she was loving every minute of the show. I decided to switch my role a little. "Jasmine, have you had a nice evening?"

"It’s been great. Other than the dinner problem, I have never had a better time," she effused.

"Well, I was wondering … would you be interested in a ride home or maybe … a late night coffee?"

"A coffee would be nice. I’m flying so high I don’t think I could land if I wanted to."

"May I walk you to my automobile then?"

"Certainly," and she offered me her arm. I wrapped my arm through hers and we leaned and bumped against each other as we walked to the car. When we reached the car we stopped in front of the passenger’s door. Before opening the door, I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her tight against me. I slowly leaned forward and planted a gentle kiss on her lips. I pressed my breasts against her breasts, my hips against her hips. When I opened my eyes, she was staring into them. I leaned back and a smile started to creep across her lips. "Maybe I don’t need a coffee," she said. Jasmine wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me. She pressed her lips tighter against mine.

I broke our kiss and slid my hand down to her ass. I gave her a squeeze and murmured, "Maybe we should go home … to bed. It is getting late you know."

"Hmmmmm …" she agreed.

I opened her door and let her get situated before I closed it. I entered my side of the car and started it up. Jasmine said, "Just a second," and leaned over for a kiss. A gentle, sweet kiss on her beautiful soft lips. I could taste her lipstick and wondered why it tasted so sweet. I gave her knee a little squeeze and drove us home. We kissed all the way up in the elevator.

We held hands as we walked into her bedroom. I sat her down on the bed, and then crouched on the floor to remove her heels. I slid my hands up her right leg, feeling the smoothness of her stocking. She moaned ever so imperceptibly as I reached under the hem of her dress and found her garters. I snapped them open and gathered the top of them in my hands. I slowly pulled them down her leg as she shifted her weight onto her opposite hip, making it easier to slide down her stocking. I looked up and she smiled at me. I repeated the process with her other stocking.

I stood and offered her my hands. She took hold and I pulled her to her feet. I again wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her lips to mine. This time we kissed passionately, smearing our lipstick over each other. I broke our buss and saw the mess that I had made. I laughed softly and said, "Sweetie, you have to do a better job of putting on your lipstick."

Jasmine returned my smile and said, "I see you also have a problem. You must be lipstick challenged."

"Let me help you out of your dress, then you can use the bathroom first." I helped with her dress then sent her off on her way. I hung up her dress and put her shoes away. I returned to my room and stripped down. I put on a teal colored baby doll covered with lace appliqués. I was in a fog as I returned to Jasmine’s room and fell down on her bed. I had my eyes closed and was gently rubbing my stomach when I heard her return. I smiled and looked up, "You look awful tall from here. Have you grown?"

She tittered and mused, "I think I grew a lot tonight. Your turn." This time she offered me her hands and pulled me up to my feet.

I walked to the bathroom and washed my face. I opened my cold cream jar and scooped a glop into my fingers. I squished it between my fingers and then massaged into over my face. I was moving in slow motion, enjoying and concentrating on the soft and slick sensations. I felt as feminine as I had ever felt in my entire life. I was planning on making love to a beautiful woman and I still didn’t fully understand my emotions and feelings. I was confused, but I didn’t care. I was concentrating on my femininity and on Jasmine’s. I slowly scrubbed the cosmetics from my face, and then took a warm washcloth and wiped the residue from my tingling skin. I finished my routine and returned to Jasmine.

She was wearing a short, bright red negligee that barely covered her crotch. She was prone on her bed trying to look provocative. It wasn’t necessary and I told her so. "Jasmine, I have never wanted anyone as much as I want you right now. I would love to crawl on top of you and make love until you begged for mercy. But we have to do something first."

She gave me a puzzled look and said, "Oh my! I never thought about that. I don’t have any."

I smirked and said, "Don’t worry about that, sweetie. I have you covered ... literally. What I meant was I need to braid your hair so that we can pin it up. We spent too much money on your new hair, to take a chance of pulling it out when I make mad and passionate love to you."

"You’re too practical," and she laughed softly. She sat up on the edge of the bed and said, "On the other hand, I can’t think of anything more exciting than you running your hands through my new hair and braiding it. I’ve never had my hair braided, and I would love to enjoy one more exciting, new sensation."

I sat behind her on the bed and curled my legs under me. I removed two bands from my wrist and handed them to her. "Hand these back when I’m done." I gently pulled her hair behind her and carefully split it into three unruly strands. I then began weaving her hair into a loose braid. I thought I was back in grade school as I braided my best girl friend’s hair. "This is like a sleep over," I told her. "Like two grade school girls as they play hair styling on their sleepover."

"That’s neat," Jasmine answered. "I hope this ends up a bit more adult, though." We both giggled softly.

"Give me those bands," and I wrapped them around the end of her newly braided hair. "Get up," I said. I pulled the comforter down on her bed, and laid back her satin sheets. I held up the sheet and said, " Slip in here my little sweetie. I’ll tuck you in." She crawled into the bed and I pulled the sheet up to her chin. I gave her a kiss and said, " Sweet dreams my little sweetie."

"You’re not joining me?" she said disconsolately.

"Oh yes, you sexy thing. Oh yes. But let me get the light first. We’re going to practice anatomy by Braille. Do you see that condom package on your night stand? Unwrap it and leave it where you can reach it." She did as she was told. I flipped the light switch and carefully made my way to her bed. I slipped under the sheets and slid against her.

I gently kissed her and slid one hand across her negligee. I reached her breast and massaged and kneaded it. It felt almost real. I even used my finger to circle and caress her nipple. I slipped my tongue into her mouth and played with her tongue, as my hand continued down her stomach and reached her penis. It was fully erect and very sensitive. As soon as I touched it she reflexively pulled away. Then she relaxed and allowed me to gently rake my fingernails down its shaft. I could feel her penis jerk several times as the stimulation from my nails turned her into jelly.

"Hand me that condom, sweetie," and I unrolled it over her penis. I had never felt so sexy and horny and wet in my life. I slid my leg over her and shifted my weight on top. I pushed my wet crotch against her penis and positioned the shaft against my clit. I rubbed until my clit couldn’t handle the stimulation any longer. I lifted up on her, and let her penis slip into my wet pussy. She slipped in easily and felt so nice. Jasmine was not well endowed, and would never be mistaken for a Mikey. But by being on top, I was able to control her position and pressure and was able to satisfy my desires. I rocked back and forth, in and out and Jasmine quickly came. At least she lasted longer than Mikey. I continued pushing and thrusting harder and harder until I reached my orgasm.

I fell on top of her, exhausted and sweaty, and kissed her on her lips. I gave her one soft kiss after another, as I kept her penis trapped inside me. I kissed her lips and her cheeks, her forehead and her eyelids, her chin and nose.

I eventually rolled off Jasmine and landed on my back. Jasmine used her elbow to push herself up and lean over me. She continued to kiss me. "I loved that," she said. "I never dreamed I could enjoy something so much. I love you." And she continued to kiss me.

‘Oh, oh,’ I thought. ‘This will take some damage control. But tomorrow is soon enough.’ I let her continue to kiss me, and slowly start examining my body. Her hand slid over my negligee and reached my breast. It was her turn to caress my nipples. Eventually her hand reached down to my hem and slid underneath and up towards my breast. "Just a minute sweetie," and I pulled my negligee off. "That should make it easier, sexy."

Jasmine continued her anatomy lesson. I let her explore my entire body. I had to give her a bit of encouragement at times. "Don’t be afraid to use your lips and tongue sweetie. Kiss my nipple. Lick it." I eventually encouraged her to move down between my legs. She buried her nose in my crotch as I helped her explore my vagina with her tongue. I pressed my clitoris against her tongue when she finally found it. It felt wonderful. "Is your condom still on?" I whispered.

"Yes," she answered.

"Great, come up here." Jasmine gave me one more lick, then slid her self up and began pushing her penis against my pussy. Her aim was poor, and I reached between us and helped her enter me. Before she began thrusting, she kissed me. I could taste my fluids and smell my aroma on her lips. It caught me a bit by surprise. I had never tasted or smelled myself before. At first I didn’t like it. But as Jasmine began slowly, almost effeminately, pumping and thrusting into my pussy I began to become more aroused and started to respond to the taste and smell. I began to associate them with the pleasure I was beginning to feel. I decided I liked the smell. I liked the taste. I wanted them as Jasmine continued to thrust and pound against my pussy.

I had my arms wrapped around her back and I pulled her tight and rocked my hips in rhythm with her. She was being too gentle and I wanted more power. I wanted her to get rougher and stronger with me. I began pushing even harder and squeezing tighter. Jasmine received the message and began returning the pressure and force. She was lasting much longer than the first time and she was bringing me closer and closer to orgasm. I shuddered and clutched her as tight as I could. I clenched my teeth as I pulled her into me as the intensity rolled through me. I held my breath as my orgasm flowed through me, then exhaled in a loud gasp as I tried to catch my breath.

I had forgotten about Jasmine, but she must have cum at about the same time. She was breathing and panting just as hard as I was. We slowly caught our breath as Jasmine remained inside me. I squeezed my muscles and gave her penis a tug.

"I can feel that," she said.

"Do you like it?"

"Oh, yea," she whispered. "I can feel it and it is wonderful. You are wonderful. You’re fantastic in fact. Thank you for the best night of my life."

I kissed her on her soft lips. "Jasmine, would you do me a favor?"

"Anything."

"Would you get off me? I can’t breathe." She laughed and rolled off me. "Jasmine?"

"Yea?"

"I have a confession to make."

"What?"

"I had a wonderful time also. Now, let’s lie here and just enjoy our closeness. I am so totally exhausted and I think I could fall asleep in a blink." I whispered. I quickly drifted off to sleep.

Jasmine was missing when I awoke. It took me a second or two to recall where I was, then I relaxed and smiled. I snuggled into the satin sheets and enjoyed their softness caressing my skin. It was only a few minutes later and I could smell bacon. I crawled out of bed and slipped into my baby-doll. I found Jasmine in her robe, hovering around the stove.

"Hi sleepy," she called over her shoulder. "Breakfast is almost ready. Take a seat." I sat at the table and watched her move around the kitchen.

"You’ll make someone a fine wife one day, Jasmine."

"I’m practicing my audition," she told me. She brought a plate of eggs, bacon and toast and set it in front of me. She leaned over and kissed me as she set the plate down. She brought her own plate to the table and sat opposite. "I had a wonderful time last night. Thank you so much."

I smiled and continued with my meal. "What would you like to do today?"

"I don’t know. Anything as long as I get to wear the right clothes," she smiled. The right clothes meant women’s clothes.

"Why don’t we go down to the lake edge? We can enjoy the sun, maybe stop by the aquarium and perhaps get in a little shopping."

"That sounds nice."

"We’ll go casual and you can get used to being in public. Work on your voice, and walk and stuff, ya’know."

"Great. I’d love that."

After breakfast I had her clean up and shave very close. As I was supervising her makeup application I said, "Ya know Jasmine, you might want to consider doing something about your beard."

"Like what?"

"Electrolysis. It’s not easy, but it would allow you to reduce the amount of foundation that you have to wear. For a casual day, you are going to look heavily made-up. You would be much more natural without all this makeup."

"But its expensive and takes a long time. I’ve read that some girls have two or three appointments a week and it still takes months to finish. And the money!"

"I know. You’ll have to wait until you are in a better financial position. Whatever happened to that $10,000 that your parents were going to give you?"

"The last I heard, they were still promising to send me the money, but that was a couple of weeks ago."

"Well, that would make it easy, wouldn’t it?"

"Yea. I hope it’s not just a dream."

After putting Jasmine into her normal foundation garments, I picked out a pair of white Capri pants for her. She chose a beige sweater with three quarter length sleeves. She wore knee high nylons and sandals. I had her let down her hair and brush it out. Her hair still had a little curl and body from yesterday’s styling.

We spent the rest of the morning walking along Lake Michigan. We walked through the Shedd Aquarium and then drove up to the Naval Pier for a light lunch and some additional strolling. After the Naval Pier we walked over to the downtown area and did a bit of window shopping. I let her try on a couple of darling dresses, but no money was spent. She couldn’t afford anything, and I was not keen on enlarging her wardrobe. My own wardrobe needed some business suits.

We returned to the apartment around 5:00. I suggested that we eat in and then go catch a movie. I had a couple of coupons from work that would save us a few bucks on the movies. After the movie, we walked over to a neighborhood bar. It was populated by twenty-somethings. It was primarily a sports bar that had a good singles atmosphere. There was no dancing. We talked with a couple of girls, and had a few boys try out their lines on us. We allowed two guys to sit with us and buy us a drink. While the guys were probably very serious, Jasmine and I were relaxed and open to flirting. We had no intention of doing anything with the guys, but the sexually charged banter was fun. We probably led them on more than we should have. It was a nice bar and I thought we would return in the future, so there was no reason to earn a reputation as a tease.

When we returned home we were both relaxed, and a bit tired. We had been on the go all day. We both completed our nightly cleansing routine and we both ended up wearing our sexiest negligees. We sat on the couch while I helped Jasmine practice braiding her own hair. She wasn’t very good and we giggled over the results. After getting a reasonable braid, we fell into each other’s arms and started kissing and making out. She had a raging erection and her negligee just couldn’t keep it covered. Her hem was so short, that no matter how many times she pulled it down, a bit of kissing and squirming and she popped right back out. She was small for guy, but being small was more of a turn-on for me than a large penis. It looked more appropriate and feminine when it kept peeking out from under her pink satin. It wasn’t long before she was on her back, lying on the couch while I licked and stroked her little cock. I soon brought her to climax, and I allowed her to spurt her semen over her bare stomach. She held her negligee up, while I got some Kleenex and I cleaned her up.

Afterwards I made her lie on the couch so I could watch her penis shrink after orgasm. It was an interesting sight and I was turned on by the process. As her penis shrunk, it kept oozing small amounts of semen and I would wipe the tip and keep it clean. It was rather interesting, and I was surprised by how small her flaccid penis was. It almost looked like a button on a fur coat. When it was small enough, and I was horny enough, I stroked her until she was again hard and ready for more. I unrolled a condom over her, then mounted her. I was extremely wet, and with her being so small, she had no problem slipping into me. I took my time bringing both of us to orgasm.

It was my first time for making love on a couch, and it was rather crowded and uncomfortable. I loved it. I was already thinking of new locations where I could take Jasmine. She was very good at being submissive, and I knew I would have no problem taking her whenever and wherever I wanted. It might even become a fun game, I thought. How risque could I get?

We spent the evening in her bed, with her tightly cuddled against my back and her arm over my waist. I enjoyed being held, even if it was by a girlie-boy.

Sunday was the end of her first weekend with hair extensions. We didn’t get dressed until almost noon. We spent the day much as we had Saturday. Jasmine dressed in a broom skirt and frilly blouse. We walked around the downtown area, window shopping and trying on a few dresses. I let her buy another set of pierced earrings, but held the line on all other spending.

Sunday night we did not make love. I sent her to her own bed and I slept in mine. I didn’t want her to think we were too much of a couple. Sleeping together every night would allow her to become too comfortable with the idea of ‘us’. I had decided that I was only going to sleep with her once or twice a week. I still wanted her thinking of us separately: me as in Jasmine (not Jason), and you as in Karen.

 
 
CHAPTER EIGHT
 
 

Getting ready on Monday, Jason checked out his new hair extensions in the bathroom mirror and smile apprehensively. Letting him do everything himself, I had him pull his hair back in a ponytail and attach a scrunchy up at the scalp. Doing it that way let his hair hang loose and show a bit of curl and swirl to it. As usual, I told him to wear bikini panties, thigh high stockings, and a pink, lacey camisole. Yellow gold studs were placed in his upper lobes, and I again had him wear one-inch gold hoop earrings in his lower lobes. He looked very cute. Under everything I had him start wearing Jasmine’s baby-powder deodorant. Driving to work, I enjoyed his fresh, feminine scent.

So it wasn’t surprising that it didn’t take long for the girls to notice Jason’s new look. Only minutes after arriving, Terri rushed into my office and whispered, "Did you see Jason’s new do?" Nodding yes, I giggled. She began laughing and said, "Jasmine is right, he is a swish. He’s starting to look and dress like a girl!"

"How do you think he did it?" I asked.

"A hair weave or extensions probably. They’re pretty common now days, and they don’t cost much." If she only knew how much I paid she would have fainted. "I can’t believe he had the nerve to wear it to work. What the shit, did he think no one would notice? I can’t wait for lunch."

"Why wait for lunch? Go talk to him now."

"I don’t think I could keep a straight face. I’ll wait ‘till everyone is there."

She turned to leave and I called her back, " Terri, I didn’t get a real close look. What does he look like? I mean does he look totally ridiculous or feminine?"

"Well I think he looks pretty stupid. But he is femmy to begin with. I’ll have to take a closer look at lunch."

I anticipated lunch all morning. I couldn’t wait to hear the conversation. The five of us gathered at Lisa’s desk before heading to the cafeteria. Jason showed up last, carrying his brown bag lunch. Lisa was the first to speak, "Jason, you have a new look. What did you do?"

"I’m going to be in a local play. My character called for long hair, so I had hair extensions put in this weekend. I’ll have to wear them for several weeks."

"Wow, they look real," said Jasmine. "How did they do it?"

"Why don’t we talk about this at lunch," I said. "I’m hungry."

We walked down to the cafeteria, Jason leading the way. The four of us girls walking behind smiling and pointing and swishing our hips as we walked. At the cafeteria we each picked up our food and rushed over to our table.

"So Jason, what exactly did you do?" Jasmine asked again. Jason went through the entire description of the operation.

"You went to a salon to have this done?" Lisa asked.

"Yea."

"A woman’s hair salon? I mean, not a theatrical salon?"

"Yea."

"Did you enjoy it?" asked Terri.

"Well it was a rather long and boring procedure."

"No, I meant did you like hanging with the girls?" Everyone giggled a bit. Jason turned pink and said nothing. "What play are you going to be in?"

Jason took the initiative to describe the plot and characters of Hair. He was informative enough that no one doubted the details of the play.

"I didn’t know you could sing."

"Yea, I’m ok. Not good enough for the lead, but good enough to be a back up."

"How do you take care of your hair?"

Jason listed the dos and don’ts that he had been given. He explained that he had to keep it in a ponytail or braided for sleeping.

"Braided? Can you braid your own hair?"

"Sort of. I’m not real good at it."

"You’ll have to wear it braided for us." More snickers and a round of ‘Yea, we want to see you in braids’ came from all the girls.

"I particularly like the earrings that you chose to go with your hair. Are those part of the play also?"

Jason took the opportunity to attribute the ear piercing to the play also.

"You look very pretty," Terri said. "Will you have to wear any other clothes for your play?"

"Well yea. There is no nudity in this play," he explained.

"No, I meant anymore girl’s clothing? A blouse or lipstick maybe?" Everyone laughed and Jason turned a deep shade of pink. He looked at me for help and I gave him a big smile.

Later in the afternoon, Jason picked me up for our afternoon break. He looked rather morose. When we reached the hall I said, "Jason, you look tired or something. Tough morning?"

"Yea, I’d say that," he said angrily.

"What’s the matter?" I asked soothingly.

"I didn’t appreciate the teasing at lunch. I felt like a freak show at the circus."

"No, you weren’t" I answered. "Why ever would you even say that?"

"You were there. You know. I was the center of abuse and teasing. Asking if I was going to wear lipstick. It was embarrassing."

"Well I’m sorry you feel that way. You know how those girls are. They love to tease and talk about people. That’s just the way they are. It’s not personal, it’s their lunch time entertainment."

"Well I don’t like being entertainment. And you didn’t say anything to help. You just sat there," he sniffed.

"Jason, I can’t say anything and you know it. We can’t let anyone know that were spending time together outside work. Especially those girls. They’ll tell everyone in the company. And you know what will happen if the company finds out, don’t you?"

"Yea, but it wouldn’t hurt you to give me a little morale support. I felt totally alone out there."

"You’re going to have to stand on your own two feet, Jason. If you want to become a beautiful girl, there is going to be a transition period and people are going to see it. You will have to get used to this."

He stopped walking and turned to me, "What do mean ‘become a girl’?"

"Isn’t that what you want?"

"No. I just want to pretend to be a girl in my own privacy."

"That’s not true, sweetie. If that were true you wouldn’t be wearing panties and camisoles to work. You wouldn’t have had your hair done. You wouldn’t have had your ears pierced. You’re the one that’s showing those off to the real world."

"Only because you made me. You threatened to expose me if I didn’t do these things."

"You’re rationalizing, Jason. You wanted to do these things, and that’s why you’re doing them. I gave you a weak excuse and you jumped on it. And I never said that I would expose you. You know I never said that." I stared into his eyes to make it clear that I meant what I said.

He turned and began walking down the hall. We were silent while I bought him his usual diet coke.

"Jason," I said, "you realize that this is what you want, right?"

"No, I never wanted to do this in public. If it hadn’t been for you, I never would have done any of this."

"And do you regret it? Did you regret it Friday night? How about Saturday on your stroll around Chicago? Did you regret it when you were trying on dresses or buying earrings?"

"I still wouldn’t be wearing this stuff in public if it wasn’t for you." He stopped and sighed. "You’ve got me all fucked up." He gave another big sigh, leaned against the wall and took a sip of his coke. "I just felt so alone. You never said anything. I hated it. I felt abused."

"Complain then,"

"What? To whom? And what exactly do I complain about? The truth?"

"You complain to your immediate supervisor, Lisa. And you don’t ever worry about the internal truth that you and I both know. The fact is you feel that you were the subject of abuse. Since you were the only guy at the table, I’d call it sexual abuse. You simply, and with no exaggeration, write an e-mail to Lisa and explain how you felt. Say that it makes it difficult to do your job when things like this happen. Don’t make a big deal out of it. And when you’re done, print off a copy and give it to me. It will help get your feelings in front of you, and it might help Lisa reign in the girls."

"I can’t do that. Nobody likes a whiner."

"That’s right. But they have to pay attention when an employee is being mistreated. Write the letter and send it. Do it as soon as you get back to your desk. Don’t wait, quit whining and do it. Got it?"

"I’m not sure."

"Do it!" I said. "What do you say to me when I tell you to do something?"

"Yes ma’am."

I smiled. "Let’s go back to the office."

Jason did write the letter and he did send it to Lisa. I waited for a comment form Lisa but never heard a word. Maybe she would say something tomorrow.

That evening Jason’s mood turned totally around. First off, he was dressed as Jasmine and that always made her feel better. Second, she received a call from her mom. The house sale had cleared and mom was going to give her the check for $10,000. She wanted to bring it to her and Jasmine panicked. She couldn’t let her parents see her with her new hairstyle. She hung up the phone and was a nervous wreck.

After explaining the situation to me I said, "This is easy Jasmine. Call your mother back and give her your savings account number. Tell her to have her bank send the money electronically. Tell your mom it is much safer than walking around with $10,000. Tell her you would feel much better if she didn’t carry that money with her. Let her know that you are only thinking about her."

"That might work," she agreed.

"You won’t know unless you try. Call her back right now."

Jasmine called her mom, and after some persuading she agreed. Jasmine was ecstatic. "This will solve all of my problems," she effused.

"No it won’t," I disagreed. "Remember I have power of attorney. I will decide what to do with the money."

"What are you going to do?" Jasmine asked.

"The same as usual. Fifty percent will be used to pay down your credit card balance. $5000 will get you down to about $1000 left. The other $5000 goes into your savings. You will use none of it for shopping. It will be saved for more important things."

"Like what?"

"Like electrolysis."

"Oh," and a smile spread across her face. "I like that idea. Will it be enough?"

"I don’t know, but that is what I suggest that you spend it on. The rest of your finances should remain as they are until you eliminate that credit card balance. And once the balance is gone, you pay as you go. If you can’t pay for a charge in one month, you don’t buy it. I will not allow you to crawl back into that debt hole."

"I agree." Jasmine walked over to me and gave me a hug. "You’re the best friend that I could have ever hoped to find."

"I know," I said modestly. "Now go get ready for bed. Wash your hair, and dry it thoroughly. Use your hair blower. And use conditioner when you wash it. Be careful when you comb it out, also. When you’re done, come show me." I patted her on the butt and sent her to the shower.

She returned almost 40 minutes later. She was already in her negligee and robe. I ran my fingers through her hair and sent her back to dry it some more. The next time she returned I complimented her on her nice look. "Sit here and I’ll braid your hair. I can do a nicer job than you. And tomorrow morning leave it braided."

"Why?"

"Because I want you to wear it to work that way."

"No. I can’t. I won’t. It looks way to girly. I‘ll get razzed by the girls."

"You told them you would wear it braided, sweetie. And if they do tease you, write another letter to Lisa."

"I never said that I would wear it braided. And I can’t keep writing letters to Lisa."

"I’m sure you promised to wear it braided, dear. Now just go to bed and we can continue this discussion in the morning." I wasn’t going to discuss it in the morning. Jason was going to wear braided hair to work. It would be so much fun.

The next morning I had Jason dress the same as Monday. He complained all morning about wearing his hair braided and I would not give in. I insisted. When I finally got him in the car he sulked all the way to work. I was anticipating an interesting day. Sure enough, Terri was in my office at 8:00.

She was grinning from ear to ear. "Did you see Jason?"

"Yes. What do you think?"

"I almost blew a gut muscle. How girly can you get? Braided hair? I can’t believe he did it!"

"Well, we did ask, remember?"

"If I asked you to dress like a whore, would you?"

I smiled, "Let me think about that."

"Yea. And if I told you to jump off a bridge you would do that too. I just can’t believe he did it. What does he think he is doing?"

"Trying to join the group?"

"You mean be one of the girls?" and she laughed again.

"Maybe, maybe not. Maybe he has such low self esteem that he thinks this is how he can make friends. I don’t know, I’m just guessing."

"Well if that’s the case, he’s stupider than I thought. He’s looking like an idiot." Then she flashed a nasty grin, "Maybe we should tell him to wear a bra and lipstick next." She left my office laughing. At least Terri was going to have an amusing day. I wondered what the others would say.

Jason never left his cubicle all morning. When we stopped by for lunch he refused to go. "I’m really busy girls and I want to catch up on some work."

"Come on, Jason. You need to take a break and get away from this."

"If you don’t you’ll get all stressed out."

"No, I really have to do this."

"Ok. By the way, I really like your hairstyle. Did you braid it yourself?"

"No … er … yea I did." He almost gave away the fact that he was getting help.

"It’s very cute. It looks much better than a pony tail," Lisa said

"Yea, I agree. You should wear it this way all the time. It’s very becoming."

"It looks good on you. Very appropriate," Jasmine added.

The four of us left for the cafeteria. As soon as we were out of Jason’s hearing the rips began. "Swish. Gay. Fairy. Queer. Sissy. Pretty boy." Lunch was a continuous dialog about Jason. He replaced Linda as the favorite target of abuse. A couple girls from other departments came by to ask if what they heard was true. They wanted to know if they could stop by the department later in the afternoon to see what he looked like.

"No problem," answered Terri. "Just call me and I’ll let you through security. You’ve never seen anything so weird in your life. What a sicko."

That afternoon was a steady stream of visitors through the law department. Both men and women showed up, and Terri and Jasmine were happy to show them through. Jason couldn’t help but notice. But no one said anything so he couldn’t complain.

Wednesday and Thursday he was again too busy to join us for lunch. But the visitors started to trickle off and by Friday he didn’t feel like such a celebrity and agreed to join us for lunch at the cafeteria. The girls weren’t too subtle with Jason.

"Jason, do you know how to do a French braid. I think that would like really pretty on you."

You should wear it down one day. I’d love to see you wear it long. Do you curl it?"

"I think we should have a slumber party. We can sleep over and spend the night doing each other’s hair. Jason, do you have a nice negligee? All the girls have to wear pretty nightgowns."

Terri noticed his nails. "Oh my god! Jason, your nails!" Jason quickly hid his hands under the table. Terri reached over and pulled one of his hands up onto the table. "Your nails are so long. They’re very fashionable. Do you do them yourself?"

"Those are really nice Jason. And you do them yourself? How do they look with polish?"

"It looks like you have clear nail polish on them Jason. No! Do you polish them?"

"How precious. I bet they look great with red on them. What color do you prefer Jason?"

"We have got to have a sleep over. We can polish nails as well as style our hair."

"Jason, I’m so impressed. New hair, stylish hoop earrings and now manicured nails. How feminine."

"And don’t forget that camisole. I’ll bet it’s really pretty. Does it have lots of lace, Jason?"

Jason turned redder and redder. He left half way through lunch. I couldn’t blame him. The girls were very rough on him. On the way back to my office I made a point of stopping by his desk. "Write the letter, and make sure that you give me a copy," I whispered.

He refused to go out for a coke later, so I brought him one and gave it to him at his desk. He glared at me and said thanks. Then he handed me a copy of his letter.

Jason and I worked until 6:00. Everyone else had left. I went to pick up Jason at his desk and he silently followed me to the car. As soon as we were in the car he started crying. Huge sobs and tears. He was racked with wave after wave of crying. I thought I knew what the problem was, and I said nothing. I quietly drove us to my apartment.

When we reached the apartment he disappeared into his room and slammed the door shut. I could hear him crying behind the closed door. Maybe I had gone a little too far this time. I was starting to feel just a bit guilty. I started to rationalize my thoughts, and then decided that I was too hungry for that.

I called up the pizza shop and ordered a large pizza. They said it would take 40 minutes. That gave me enough time to run down the street and buy some beer. I was back in plenty of time to catch the delivery boy. I set up plates and napkins in the kitchen, then went to Jason’s room. I softly knocked on the door, but received no answer. I turned the door handle slowly and pushed the door open enough to stick my head inside. "Jason," I called. He was lying on his bed facing away from the door.

"Jason. I have beer and pizza. You must be as hungry as I am. Come eat with me."

Nothing.

"Sweetie, I know you have to be as hungry as me. Can’t you smell it?"

Still no answer.

"Listen, lying in here and sulking won’t accomplish anything. I know you’re hungry. Come out to the kitchen, have some pizza and drink a beer. It’s good for you. We can talk." I grabbed his arm and rolled him over to face me. His eyes were red from the crying. I leaned over and kissed him. "I think the world of you Jason. Come on, it’s time to talk. And eat. I have MGD and Leinenkugels. Which would you prefer?"

"Leinie,"

"Go wash your face then come out. Ok sweetie?"

I returned to the kitchen and opened a couple of beers. Jason came out about 5 minutes later. He quietly sat down and I placed a piece of pizza on his plate, and slid his beer over to him. He munched and sipped quietly for a few minutes. "This was the worst week of my life. I was totally humiliated."

"But you received $10,000. That’s not bad," I said. "You can do something now that you’ve always wanted to do."

"Really? And how do you know that? How do you know what I want?"

"I think you’ve made that pretty clear, sweetie. I just listen and watch, but you do tell me what you want. You get your message across."

"Did I tell you that I wanted my life destroyed and to be totally humiliated?"

There was no need to answer rhetorical questions. I merely waited for his next comment.

"Every guy in the building must have walked by the last couple of days to laugh at me behind my back. Everyone of them has absolutely no respect for me anymore."

"Sweetie, so what?"

"So what? So I look like a total jackass."

"It makes absolutely no difference at all. Come on, what did you think was going to happen? Did you think you were going to make friends with those idiots and become best buddies? Go out bar-hopping, beer-drinking and skirt-chasing? It wasn’t going to happen. You know that. Deep down inside that isn’t you. You’re better than that. You have more respect for yourself and others than to crawl down into their manure."

"And you heard what the girls said. Do you have a negligee? Do you style your hair? Its like they know everything."

"You’re reading way too much into their statements. They have no idea who or what you are. They were merely acting like they always do."

"Now they sure as hell think I’m gay, thanks to you."

"Oh sweetie, it’s way too late for that. They’ve thought you were gay since the day you started work. I had nothing to do with that."

He looked at me and shook his head no. "That’s not true," he muttered.

"Yes it is. I’m not lying. On my very first day they all pointed you out and asked if I thought you were gay. I said no, but they all disagreed. Jasmine has called you a ‘swish’ since the day I started."

"No. That can’t be." He was shaking his head side to side to emphasize his wishing.

"Yes, it is."

"But I thought that underneath their jokes they kind of liked me. Especially Jasmine."

"Jasmine’s the worst. She makes the harshest comments about you."

"But why did they think I was gay?"

"Because you aren’t a macho guy, Jason. You know that. You can admit that. It isn’t bad, it’s just the way it is. I lived with a lesbian roommate for a couple of years, and we went to gay bars all the time. I got pretty good at figuring out who was who, and who was what. I could tell from the first day we met that you weren’t gay. But I didn’t guess that you were a transvestite. You hid that pretty well.

"In retrospect I might have figured it out. Jason, you have many feminine traits that are part of you. You have a beautiful face. You have a small, cute nose. There is no way it can be taken as macho. Your face is soft and round like a beautiful girl’s, rather than oval and hard shaped like a guy’s. Your hands are small and you are thin, which makes you more feminine than masculine. And with the proper clothing and make-up, you are very feminine. You are pretty, you’re cute, and you’re beautiful.

"Why did they think you were gay? Because they couldn’t read you. They were confused by the way you look and they way you move. They didn’t have the experience to read you the way that I could. Well except for Jasmine."

"What about Jasmine?"

"Jasmine is gay. She’s a lesbian. She probably should have been able to see that you weren’t gay."

"Jasmine is a lesbian? I don’t believe that."

"Oh believe it, sweetie. She hit on me all the time. I had to take her to Glitter and introduce to Gloria so Gloria could set her straight, so to speak. Yes, she is a lesbian."

"But if she is a lesbian, why would she be so ruthless behind my back? If anyone should have some compassion I would think she would understand."

"Probably because she doesn’t want anyone to know about her. She rationalizes what she does and in turn becomes the worst of the lot. Look at how many congressman have been the loudest screamers against gays, and it turns out they themselves are gay. How do you explain that? I don’t know."

"So, I never had any friends at work?"

"No, I don’t think you did. You just didn’t fit anyone’s stereotype. You became the outcast that everyone makes fun of. I’m sorry, but that’s the truth. You can see it now can’t you?"

He munched on his pizza and slowly nodded. He drained his beer and went to the refrigerator for another. "What an idiot. I’ve been a joke all along, haven’t I?"

It was my turn to nod my head.

"So what do I do? Do I quit and start over?"

"Where would you go? There are no jobs out there. And what difference would it make? Would you change? Would others change? I doubt it. You would be in the same position you’re in now."

"You’re probably right. I have tried to change before. I’ve tried to be more athletic like my brother. I’ve tried to go out with the guys and act crude and chase girls. But I was never any good at it. It never lasted more than a week or two and I was back to dressing as a girl in my locked bedroom."

"You are what you are, Jason. Let me ask you something. Do you want to be something else or do you want to be what you are?"

"I guess I don’t have much choice, really."

"It’s your decision. I can help. But you have to decide. I’ve been doing what you wanted. Whether you want to admit it or not."

"Yea, I guess your right. I never fought very hard against what you did. I sort of liked it."

"Sort of?"

"I loved it. It’s what I always wanted. I’ve always dreamed of a beautiful woman forcing me to become a girl."

"I’m not forcing you Jason. I ask for cooperation, cooperation that I think you owe me. You want this and I’m merely your facilitator. Asking for cooperation isn’t asking for so much, is it?"

"No."

"Good. Eat you pizza and let’s have another beer. We’re not going out tonight so we can get a little tipsy and tell the world to screw itself."

"And tomorrow I can dress like a girl."

"You bet you can. Just remember, I call the shots." I gave him a smile, a ‘prost’ and we both downed our beers. That night, as I headed to bed alone, I couldn’t help but think about how high-maintenance Jasmine was. I wondered if all transvestites took this much attention and coddling.

On Saturday I decided to dress Jasmine to the nines and take her out trolling for men. Not that she needed a man, but she needed a real boost to her self-confidence. I was sure that I could accomplish that. I also realized that she was getting lax and sloppy in her appearance, and I had to re-establish some guidelines. After breakfast I sent her to the shower. "Wash you hair and make sure you use conditioner. Don’t dry your hair. Wrap it in a towel and I’m going to give you a wet set. And don’t shave your face yet. We’ll do that when we’re closer to make-up time."

When she returned from her shower I gave her an inspection. "Jasmine, you’re getting incredibly sloppy."

"What?"

"Look at your legs! You call that shaving? I can see stray hairs all over! Show me your pits. Ugh! Go back to the shower and shave your legs and your pits. And you chest as well! We don’t want hair getting in the way of your adhesive. Go!" I pushed her back towards the shower.

She returned with bits of toilet paper on her legs. "Listen, unless you are totally incompetent, and I don’t think you are, the reason you’re cutting your legs is because you have a dull blade. Don’t be so lazy that you can’t climb out of the shower and change blades. Understand?"

"Yes ma’am."

"Well remember that. Now come back into the bathroom." I slid in a directors chair and had her take a seat facing the mirror. "Now pay attention. I’m going to set you hair. I’m not very good, at least I’m not very good at styling. But watch how I put in your curlers, where I put them and how I use setting gel. We don’t use much, just a tad bit."

I situated her in front of the mirror, took off her towel and blotted her hair. "Remember, no rubbing with the towel. Blot, comb and then use a hair dryer. But I’m not going to use a blow dryer. I’ll set your hair and then you can wear the curlers in your hair the rest of the day. You’ll like the way they feel as they begin to dry and pull your hair tight. It’s very sexy."

I combed through her hair and eliminated all of the tangles. I parted her hair down the center , then starting on her right side, I took the tail of the comb and sectioned a small amount of hair next to her crown. "We will start at the crown and work our way around. First I smeared a bit of styling gel on the hair, then I took a smaller, one-inch curler and rolled the sectioned hair with the curler rolling up under her hair. "See? Don’t roll it too tight. It pulls on your hair and worse, on your extensions. Watch again."

Working towards the back, I sectioned another bit of hair, spread a very light bit of gel and again rolled the curler under the hair. I pushed a pin through it and then held the mirror so she could see what I had done. "See?"

"Yea."

"Keep them close, and geometric. Not too tight." I sectioned the third part and rolled it. I worked my way around to the back of her head, then returned to the front and started the second row. Half way around the second row I again held up the mirror. "See how I’m doing this?"

"Yes."

"Do you like what I’m doing?"

"Oh yes. I especially like the smell. It’s very intoxicating."

I continued to section, gel, roll and pin. I finished the right side of her head and moved to the left. "Now I’m not going to pretend that I know what I’m doing. This might not work at all, but I’m going to try and be creative. I’m going to try and set the front of your hair so that it can be combed over the front of your forehead towards the other side. It might work and it might be ugly. If it doesn’t work, we can correct it later with a curling iron."

I sectioned the first part of hair at the crown in front, and this time I rolled the curler on top of the hair. Instead of working towards the back, I worked down the front. I rolled the second curler in the opposite direction also. The third curler returned to the under side like the rest.

I finished curling all of her hair, then placed a hair net over all the curlers. "There you go, sweetie. We will let it air dry for the rest of the afternoon as we get ready for tonight. Let’s go do our nails." We collected our bottles and files and cotton balls and sat down on the living room floor. I started by sitting her against the couch while I used acetone to remove the polish on her toes.

Next I pulled the coffee table between us and I sat across the table from Jasmine, and one by one I filed and shaped her nails. I had her do two nails on each hand. She wasn’t too bad with her left hand, but she wasn’t very good with her right. I applied a red polish with flecks of sparkles and glitter. It was very disco.

While she sat with her hands in her lap, I pushed the table away and began on her toes. I took cotton balls and stuffed them between each toe. One by one I used the same polish on her toes. When I finished I was starting to get thirsty. "Want a coke?"

"Sure."

By the time I returned and we had chatted for a few minutes, it was my turn. "Be careful, your nails are dry but not hard. Just move slowly and lightly." I had her do my fingernails and then my toes. I used the same polish as Jasmine. "Tonight we can be twins, sort of," and we laughed together. She was in a much better mood than Friday night. Playing at her hobby made her happy and she forgot about her pains and problems. She was truly happiest as she transformed into a butterfly. We gave each other a second coat. "Not too heavy. Wipe off the brush and apply a light coat. It will dry slower and you don’t want it to look lumpy," I instructed.

We allowed the polish to dry and then put away our tools of the trade. "Let’s take a little nap," I suggested. No clothes, we’ll just slip under the sheets and take a short nap. We snuggled together and I asked, "Do the curlers in your hair bother you?"

"They do feel awkward. A little hard to get used to, but I love it."

"You look really sexy, lying there with your hair in curlers and your nails brightly polished and all pretty. All that is missing are your breasts."

"I could put them on," she offered.

"No, no. You have an appetizing androgynous look without them. You look sexy in a very unique way."

"I feel sexy." She was quiet for a minute as if she were trying to decide something. "I would love to give myself to you."

Submissive. What a good girl. "I don’t want to crush your hair and curlers. Instead of me mounting you, I’d like to crawl between my legs and pleasure me with your tongue. Do you think you could do that?"

"Yes ma’am." She slid down between my thighs and gently kissed me on the inside of each thigh. Then she rubbed her nose in my pubic hair and took a deep breath. "I love the smell of you. It is so erotic and sexy. Your pheromones turn me on like crazy." She really knew how to turn a phrase. She slipped her tongue into my slit and began to lick my pussy. I leaned back and enjoyed the sensation. I let her bring me to orgasm twice. I bucked and jumped and almost knocked out one of her front teeth.

I rolled over on my stomach and instructed her to take me from behind. I spread my legs so she could lie between them and slide her penis into my pussy. She still had poor aim, and I had to reach behind and guide her little penis into my pussy. She couldn’t directly stimulate my clit, so I was able to prolong my orgasm and come at a nice leisurely rate. Jasmine came right away, but I kept her working away until I was satisfied.

That was when I realized that I had let her enter me without a condom. ‘Oh shit,’ I thought. ‘ I hope I’m not fertile.’

We slept for a bit longer than an hour. We got up and wrapped our robes around us. I got us some fruit and cokes, and we sat on the couch, curled up like lazy cats, and we talked like girls. We talked about the latest fashions worn by the celebrities on TV and in the latest Cosmo. Her face was animated and smiles spread effortlessly across it. Her eyes twinkled and even without makeup she looked very pretty. With make-up, she could be irresistible to the boys … and me.

We attached Jasmine’s breast forms, and then I sent her to the bathroom to shave off her facial stubble. While she shaved, I dressed for the evening. I went through her closet and picked out a sexy little number for myself. It was a short, silk dress in electric blue. It had spaghetti straps and fit snugly through the waist and hips before flaring out to a straight skirt.

When she finished shaving and the bleeding had stopped, I dressed her all in red. She had a beautiful red underwire bra, and bright red bikini panties. The only non-red items were her padded panty girdle and corset. I pulled the corset especially tight, giving her a very thin waist. She wore a short red slip. I picked out a short, sexy dress from her closet. The dress had long sleeves that flared into wide, lacey lower sleeves. The neckline was square cut, but a bit lower than normal. It had a cinched, form fitting waist that accented her tiny waist, and made her hips look wide and sexual. The silk skirt had a short hemline, ending about an inch above the knee. She was going to have to be careful sitting and there would be no leg crossing tonight. It would be good training.

Then to make everything one degree more difficult, I found a pair of red, 4-inch heels. I myself never wore 4-inch heels. They were feet killers, besides being extremely difficult to walk in. If she wasn’t careful she could break an ankle. They were open-toed and had a high ankle strap which helped with her stability. The perfect shoe for the evening. She wouldn’t be able to run away from me. I smiled at that thought.

I supervised her make-up and we went for a much more dramatic look. I had her darken her eyebrows more than usual. She applied a darker shade of rose around her nose and under her brows. Then we applied a dark violet across her lids and a heavy dose of charcoal across her crease. I had her also apply a thin line of charcoal around the upper and lower lashes. Then she used a brush to smear and soften the charcoal liner. Next, I applied a black liquid liner around her lashes, outlining her eyes to make them sleek and almost oriental. She curled her lashes and applied mascara.

I surprised her with a pair of glittery false lashes. "Oh my," she exclaimed. "These are pretty wild."

"Aren’t they," I said as I applied a bead of adhesive to each. "We’re going to make you the sexiest girl at the party," I said.

I outlined her lips with a bright red color. I made them wider than usual. Then I had Jasmine color them in with the same bright red color. It was very obvious what signals she was sending to the world. She looked hot and certainly not conservative. I wouldn’t say she looked like a cheap hooker. No, she didn’t look cheap at all. I finished her look by brushing a light amount of glitter around her eyes and on her temples.

All she needed now was a pretty hairstyle. I wasn’t sure if I could pull that off or not. She sat in the director’s chair and faced the mirror as I removed her curlers. She wanted to leave the curls and not bother brushing out the style. They did look curly and fun, but they didn’t look finished. I brushed out her hair, and flipped the front curls over the rightside of her forehead. It worked ok. It wasn’t a great styling job, but it looked decent. The flip over her forehead definitely made the style. It gave her a nice flirty look.

She put on her new drop, rhinestone earrings, and a loud rhinestone necklace. We rounded out the jewelry with more rhinestones on her bracelets. And tonight, I didn’t let her wear any rings. I wanted everyone to know that Jasmine was unattached.

Jasmine was ready. Watch out world, Jasmine was coming out. Turn up the lights and music, step back and warn the boys. Only real men need apply.

We drove to one of the up-scale clubs in the downtown area. We were so hot that we weren’t even carded. A first for us. As soon as we entered the club, I took Jasmine’s hand and led her to the girls’ restroom. It was crowded and we had to wait for the stall I wanted. It was the last stall against the wall. It was for the handicapped and was larger than the others. It had a sink and mirror inside, along with the toilet.

We both entered the stall and I locked it behind us. I set our purses on the back of the toilet, then I reached under Jasmine’s dress and pulled her panty girdle down. Her red panties came down together with the padded girdle. She looked at me with total surprise in her eyes. I held a finger over my lips and gave her a shush. I placed my hands against her shoulders and gently pushed her down on the toilet seat. I lifted the hem of her dress and had her hold it up. Her penis was erect and standing at attention.

I searched through my purse and found a condom. I took the rubber out of its tinfoil and rolled it over Jasmine’s cock. Next I pulled down my panties and stepped out of them. Facing Jasmine, I lifted my dress, straddled her and sat on her lap, carefully coaxing her penis into my pussy as I sat down. I gave her a wicked grin then started squirming back and forth, squeezing her penis with my vaginal muscles and sending shivers through both of us. I eventually started sliding up and down on her cock, squeezing with my muscles and enjoying the sensation and thrill of our coupling. It didn’t take long for both of us to cum. I sat on her lap for about another minute as we tried to quietly regain out breath. I reached over Jasmine’s shoulder and pulled a tampon out of my purse. "She why we carry these?" I said as I showed it to her. I stood and quickly slid it inside me. I stepped away from Jasmine and pulled on my panties.

Jasmine was still holding her dress so it wouldn’t touch her wet cock. I pulled off her condom, took some toilet paper and wiped her dry, then held her dress up while she pulled on her red panties, followed by her padded panty girdle. She reached inside her panties and quickly tucked her now flaccid penis between her legs. We looked at each other and decided that we were presentable. I gave her a grin, flushed the toilet and we left the stall. Several girls noticed the two of us exit the stall, but no one had any clue as to what we had just done.

Back in the club, Jasmine started laughing. "That was incredible. Have you no shame or modesty?"

"No, I don’t. That was so much fun, I’m going to have to start thinking about other places to screw you," I smirked. "I’m thirsty, let’s get a marguerita."

At the bar, two men bought us our drinks. We never bought a drink the entire evening. We were dressed to kill and every testosterone drenched male in the club was interested in the two sexiest girls in the building. The men in the club were pretty good looking themselves, and since we had our pick of the club, I picked two of the very best. They were in their mid-twenties, tall, muscular, well tanned and handsome. They were both dressed very nice and carried themselves as if they had money. Leonard was a stockbroker and his friend Kenny was an investment banker. I gave Jasmine the best looking one, Leonard.

They were both very entertaining and charming, and good dancers. We spent much of the evening on the dance floor and I don’t know how Jasmine kept up in the 4-inch heels that she was wearing. I was constantly worried that she would twist an ankle, but she did just fine. I wondered how Jasmine would react to the men’s attention, but she loved it. She let Leonard paw her and touch her constantly. She even held his hand when they were sitting at the table.

After one slow dance where he held her tight, she suggested we powder our noses. "I couldn’t believe it," she complained. "He pressed his crotch against me the whole time and I could feel his penis pressed against me. He had a hard-on."

"Was he big?"

"That’s disgusting."

"It’s your fault Jasmine. You’re so sexy you just turned him on. You’re too hot and sexy for your own good."

"Men are too crude and vulgar," she responded.

"Well maybe so sweetie, but I don’t see you complaining. I see you holding hands and flirting with him. If you don’t like the attention, tell him."

"That’s the problem, I like being told that I’m pretty."

"Are you going to sleep with him?"

"Ugh! Absolutely not. I’m no homo."

"Then maybe you shouldn’t be leading him along like you are. Flirting is one thing, but you’ve given him a lot of physical contact all night. Your body language is sending all the right signals to him. You’re asking for sex."

"I am?"

"Don’t play innocent missy. You know you are and you’re loving his response. You’re playing with fire, and if you don’t want to get burned, you better turn down the flame."

When we returned from the restroom, Jasmine cooled down. She didn’t dance with him any more and she stopped all the patting and pawing they had been indulging in. Towards the end of the night, the guys asked if they could take us home. I wanted to take my boy home and screw him, but Jasmine quickly said no. I did give Kenny my number. Jasmine was nice enough for a little diversion, but I was still interested in finding a real man.

Jasmine and I returned to our apartment and cleaned up. I gave Jasmine a good night kiss as I headed towards my room. "May I join you?" she asked quietly.

"I’m sorry Jasmine. I want to keep my room strictly for myself. I need a place to be alone."

"How about sleeping in my room then?" she offered.

"Sweetie, we screwed twice today. Besides, I’m tired. Goodnight." I was tired and I did want to keep my room to myself. But I also wanted to reinforce the notion that we were not a couple. If it hadn’t been for Jasmine, I would have brought Kenny home for a one-night stand. I was still dreaming of extra-large size men and didn’t want to spend the rest of my life with a petite-sized sissy.

 
 
CHAPTER NINE
 
 

Monday we returned to work, and I gave Jasmine a little slack. Since last week had been so difficult on her, I allowed her to wear her hair in a ponytail, rather than braided. The week passed with little fanfare, and we enjoyed another weekend as the sexy twins. We went to two different clubs on Friday and Saturday, and once again attracted our share of good looking men. Jasmine was learning to become a real flirt. I warned her about going too far, but I couldn’t get too angry with her. I was amazed how a dress and lipstick turned her from a mouse into a lioness. When Jasmine went out, she was much more confident and extroverted than Jason could have ever hoped to be. It was like Jekyll and Hyde.

That week Jasmine did some calling around and found an electrologist that she liked. She began spending her mother’s gift on Jasmine rather than Jason. Three times a week she went to the salon and had her facial hair removed. It took several of weeks before I could notice a big difference. At the end of the day it was almost impossible to see any stubble on Jason’s face. He never had much facial hair to begin with, but even so he started to look softer and cleaner. And Jasmine’s face felt much softer when we snuggled during our sex romps.

We continued for another week in our routine, had another great weekend and then I decided to shake things up. It was time to start pushing Jasmine. She would have to come out eventually. On Monday morning while she was in the bathroom, I laid out Jason’s new wardrobe. He was going to wear high cut panties, a corset, camisole, stockings attached to the corset garters, one inch loafers and a pair of women’s slacks. (No socks, just stockings.) They weren’t just any slacks either, they were clearly women’s style. They were tan, with a side button and zipper, and elastic in the waist. They had no pockets, two pleats in the front and a straight, crisp crease down to the cuff on each leg. They were fairly tight in the rear, and his panty lines would be evident to everyone.

Jason’s first response was predictable. "No."

"You have no choice," I reminded him. "I want you wearing your full compliment of under garments, and with the corset your waist is too thin for any of your boy dockers."

"I have jeans that I can wear."

"No, you can’t wear jeans except on dress-down Fridays. You are going to have to wear women’s slacks."

"No," he whined again. "I can’t handle the abuse."

"Listen," I told him. "It’s about time you found some spine. Decide what is important in your life and do it. Stand up for yourself, accept the consequences, and move on. Quit running away all the time. Now get dressed. I’m leaving in ten minutes, with or without you."

We left on time, with Jason wearing the clothes that I had instructed him to wear. He spent the entire morning and lunch at his desk. I think he ran to the bathroom after everyone else had left for the cafeteria. At 2:30 Jason was still sitting at his desk. I stopped by his desk and ordered him to join me. We walked out of the law department and into the hall. I caught a couple of the girls watching us as we walked out.

"This sucks," he said. "You’re sadistic. You must love hurting people and trying to destroy their lives."

"That’s pretty mean yourself, Jason. I find it hard to believe that the Jasmine I enjoy being with on the weekends is the same person that cringes through work during the week. I’m merely forcing you to deal with yourself. With your own desires. It seems you can’t do it."

"You’re forcing me to do something that I would never do on my own. Something that I don’t want to do. I would be perfectly happy living as Jason during the week and Jasmine on the weekends. That is what I want."

"No it’s not. You know it inside. You’d regret that decision and you know it. Maybe not right away, but eventually. As your life settled into a boring routine with no real friends, you’d start to ask your self if the blandness was worth the price."

He stopped and got in my face, "Who the hell do you think you are? What makes you the expert on my life? How do you know what I want or how I feel? Who gave you the right to run my life? Or ruin it?"

"You gave me that right. You asked for it. You agreed to it. And sweetie, I know I’m right." I continued walking towards the vending machines. I stopped and turned around to where Jason was still standing, "And you know I’m right."

Jason turned and walked back to the office. When I returned, I set a diet coke on his desk and went to my office. Jasmine and Terri popped in less than 10 minutes later. "Oh my god, did you see what the little fruit is wearing today? I can not believe that he would have the nerve to wear those pants."

"It’s unbelievable. You can see his panty lines clear as day. And he doesn’t have any socks even. He’s wearing stockings. No wonder he hid all day."

"How could any man wear those into his place of work? It’s disgusting. It’s sick."

"Those are definitely women’s shoes. Panties, camisole, stockings pants and shoes."

"Don’t forget the hair style, hoop earrings and long nails. He’s a transvestite. And he has the nerve to wear those clothes in here. It’s despicable."

I let them rant for a while then intervened. "He can wear what he wants. I don’t think there is any law that says he can’t wear those clothes."

"No he can’t," said Jasmine. "There is a dress code and it says ‘appropriate’ clothing. Women’s clothing is not appropriate when worn by a man. Or whatever he is."

"I think you have to bring it up with his management. You have to lodge complaints with Lisa."

"Are you sticking up for him?"

"I’m just giving my opinion. You can’t harass him just because you don’t like his choice in clothing. Can you?"

"Wanna bet? Just watch us." The girls left and didn’t return the rest of the day. I found out what they were up to on the drive home.

I worked until 6:30 before I closed up my files. I found Jason sitting at his desk, his head in his hands. "Hey Jason, ready to go?" He just looked at me, his eyes were bloodshot and wet. He had been crying again. "Are you alright?" I asked.

"Oh I’m just fucking swell. Your fucking bitches managed to make my life a living hell this afternoon."

"What did they do?"

"What the hell do you care? I’m the one that has to step up to life and take the consequences. You can sit in your little ivory tower and stay immune from the real world out here." He started sniffling.

"Listen, I want you to write an e-mail to Lisa right now and complain about what they did."

"What difference will that make? She’s one of them."

"I’m going back to my office and when you’ve finished writing the letter, print a copy and bring it to me. I want to review it before you send it off. We’re not going home until you write that letter. I’ll be waiting in my office." I waited for almost an hour before Jason brought in the letter. His eyes looked a little better. He threw a Kotex on my desk and flipped the letter on top of it.

"What’s this?" I asked.

"That’s the Kotex that Jasmine threw on my desk after I called her a closet lesbian. When she threw it on my desk she said something like, ‘The little sissy must be on the rag. Here you go girly boy, here’s a new rag for you.’ It got rather ugly out there, but then you wouldn’t know or care."

"I’m sorry Jason. I do care, believe me, but it doesn’t change my mind and it shouldn’t change yours. She threw a Kotex on your desk? That’s great," I said with a chuckle.

"What makes that so great?" he demanded.

"Don’t you see, Jason? You pissed her off. You fought back and pissed her off. Congratulations, you found your backbone. Sit down and give me a couple of minutes, I want to read this letter of yours." I took out my red pen and made a few corrections on the letter and gave it back to Jason. "You can take or leave my suggestions. Send it off to Lisa and copy Mr. Kleber in HR. Print off another copy for me please. And bring back that copy I wrote on. I need to make sure that it is disposed of correctly."

Jason took the letter and left for his desk. "Wait," I yelled. "Come back."

"What?" he asked.

"I changed my mind. Don’t copy Kleber in HR. Not yet."

"Ok," and he left. He returned about 15 minutes later with the old copy and the new copy. I filed the new copy and on our way to the elevator I stopped in the mail room and shredded the old copy.

On the way home I stopped and bought a 12 pack of Jason’s favorite beer, MGD. Jasmine and Karen drank over half of it Monday night as we watched football.

Tuesday morning I laid out Jason’s clothes for the day. "Not again," he complained when he saw them. "Can’t you cut me a break just once?"

"The war has been engaged. You were great yesterday, you can’t quit now."

"Easy for you to say. It’s not your life that’s being destroyed. I hate going into work. I got sick to my stomach this morning. I know it has to be caused by the work stress. I want out in the worst way, but where in the world can I find a job in this economy? This sucks."

"That’s really too bad Jason, sweetie. We can stop and get some Pepcid AC on the way to work. That should help your stomach."

"BFD."

Tuesday was worse for Jason. By now everyone in the building knew what he was wearing, and there was a steady parade of tourists coming through the office. None of them said anything derogatory, in fact most just gawked and left. A few tried to make small talk so they could spend more time studying his clothes. He heard plenty of chuckles and snickers through out the day. The only people who were openly and verbally hostile were Terri and Jasmine. Although not as open about it, Lisa was also antagonistic towards Jason.

At lunch I heard many comments about his clothing, his sexual preferences and ancestry. Jason had replaced ‘Linda the slut’ as the number one topic of conversation. They mentioned a couple of comments and nasty things that they wanted to do. I interrupted them and reminded them I represented the Human Resources department and if I heard of any harassment, sexual or otherwise, I would have to report it to HR. They said very little in front of me after that. I was sure that they were still plotting, but just not with me around.

When I returned to my desk I wrote a mild reminder about company policy concerning harassment and sent it to everyone in the department. That earned me a reprimand from my immediate manager, John Taylor. It was not my responsibility to handle personnel matters within the law department. How nice I thought; the SOB always turned down my requests for lunch and usually turned down or cancelled face-to-face meetings in his office, but he had the time to send me a nasty-gram about harassment. Even more disgusting was the fact that he never left his office to walk out into the real world and see what was going on. None of the other attorneys ever came out of their little castles.

Jason had another horrible day. The girls had escalated their attacks and hatred from the day before. I told him to keep a log of all comments and tricks that he encountered. On a weekly basis he could send them to Lisa.

Tuesday night Jasmine and Karen drank the rest of the beer.

I wasn’t about to let Jason back down, and so Wednesday I had him wear a very dressy pair of gray slacks. They came from a suit I owned and they were a step up in quality and style. They were fully lined, so I told Jason not to wear any stockings. I told him he would love the feel of the smooth rayon liner against his smooth legs.

"Just wear a pair of your short calf stockings," I told him.

On Thursday I coupled the slacks with a soft, androgynous looking sweater. I knew the girls would assume it was a woman’s sweater. It actually was a woman’s sweater, but there was no way to tell that without checking the label. Of course that didn’t stop the girls.

And on Friday I gave him a woman’s blouse. It was cut in a man’s style, but the buttons and the darts under the arms gave away the origin. The girl’s comments became even cruder and nastier when they saw his blouse. Some of the other girls in the department were starting to join in. Jason was near to tears when we went to get our afternoon coke. "When you get back to your desk, print out your list of grievances, make a copy for me and yourself and take it to Lisa in person," I told him.

He did as I instructed and things got even worse. She chewed him out for wearing women’s clothing. "This is an office of law, not a gay bar! Your choice in styles and clothing are totally inappropriate for this office. You are the distraction and cause of the friction within this office. You had better change your attitude, not the other people." She took his list and tore it up.

At 6:00, Jason was again sitting at his desk with his head in his hands. His long, manicured nails were very evident and he quietly sniffed. "Jason? Another bad day?"

"Oh, you might say that. But I doubt you would. I’m building character and handling consequences. I’m maturing nicely, thank you. I’ve never been so humiliated in my life, but by golly I’m maturing nicely."

"Tell me what happened with Lisa."

"She yelled at me and then ripped up my list. It’s all my fault she said."

"E-mail your list to her, and this time copy Kleber."

"That should clear up everything," he said sarcastically.

"Do it," I ordered. "I’m going to sit here and watch you do it."

I knew that Jason was starting to lose his grip on his emotions. I had seen it with my mother two years earlier when she had lost dad. It took a long time for her to accept her problem and see the doctor. It was an ugly scene, with mom constantly crying and unable to function. It wasn’t until the doctor put her on Paxil that she could function and join the world again. It was a lifesaver, and I was already sure that Jason was going to need it. I had him make an appointment to see his doctor ASAP. The best that he could do was next Tuesday.

I tried to interest Jason in becoming Jasmine on Friday night and going out to the clubs. He was too tired he said, and I believed him. I made sure that we retired early Friday evening. I slept with him, but refused to have sex. I had decided that I would only have sex with his alter-ego Jasmine. It was meant to serve as positive reinforcement for his crossdressing.

We took full advantage of our Saturday. We dressed casually, did a little window shopping, had a light snack for lunch and returned to the apartment later in the afternoon. We spent the afternoon setting Jasmine’s hair, polishing her nails and getting ready for the evening. We mutually decided to go back to Glitter. We thought it would be a comfortable and easy evening. Because it was Glitter, we knew we could dress over the top, and so we went crazy. Jasmine wore a mini dress that had spaghetti straps, a surplice bodice and a hem that was over two inches above her knee. I gave her blue artificial lashes to wear, and then sprinkled her face with lots of glitter.

I poufed up her hair and gave it a wild but ‘styled’ look. Don’t ask me how I did it, because I was totally winging the whole style. But it came out campy and attractive. We gave her the biggest drop earrings that we could find and I found a ring for almost every finger she had. I put a gold slave bracelet around her ankle, and we finished off Jasmine with a new scent that we had bought that afternoon.

We bopped on down to Glitter and flashed our IDs on the way into total bedlam. The sound system was in full throat and was pounding out Eurodisco at an earsplitting level. We headed straight to the dance floor and ran into Tara. I knew it would be a good night for Jasmine. Tara was her favorite TV and I let the two of them hang together the rest of the night. They spent most of their time dancing and the rest of the time talking. I had no idea how they were able to communicate over the loud music. I actually left for half an hour and walked down the street to an old dive that I used to visit. It was quiet and I was able to let my ears recuperate. I felt comfortable leaving Jasmine on her own.

Before the drag show started, the music ended and we were able to talk a little. "Tara, Jasmine tells me that you are an attorney. Is that right?"

"Yes. I’ve been practicing for 7 years. I understand that you just passed your boards. Congratulations."

"Thanks. Do you belong to a firm?"

"Yea, a small firm. There’s just 3 of us."

"What do specialize in?"

"Just about anything. We’re not fussy, but mostly workers comp, bankruptcies, medical malpractice and my specialty - workplace harassment."

"Do you ever do any sexual harassment?"

"All the time. You need some help?

"Not me, but I might know someone else that could use your help. How can I contact you?"

"You thinking about Jasmine?"

"Yea, how’d you know?"

"She told me a little bit about what’s going on. She has my number. I’d kill for her. When she’s ready, have her contact me, I’ll take good care of her."

"Thanks," I said. "I’m not sure when everything is going to blow up, but I have a feeling it won’t be long."

The show was excellent as usual. Jasmine must have given away $5. It might not sound like much to you, but we were still living on a very limited budget. When the show was over the sound system kicked on again. It was time for me to go. I grabbed Jasmine and yelled in her ear, "We have to go. I want you to give Tara a goodnight kiss. A nice one. Ok?"

She nodded her head then turned to Tara. She said something to her, then they embraced and kissed . It was a long, slow, lingering kiss. I was surprised that Jasmine gave her such a kiss. Tara winked and waved as we left.

I wrapped my arm through Jasmine’s as we walked down the street. I had to ask, "Is Tara a good kisser?"

"Hmmm hmmmm."

"As good as me?"

"Maybe," she said quietly.

"Was that your 1% tonight?"

"A girl never tells. And why are you so interested? Jealous or something?"

"Maybe," I giggled. "Maybe I’m going to have to win you back. Is there something I need to do to impress you?"

"Let’s see how you compare first." We stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and she wrapped her arms around my neck and gave me a long kiss.

"Well?" I asked.

"It’s rather difficult to tell. We’ll have to check out some other talents when we get home. Do you know the Chinese twisting rope trick?"

We laughed and then kissed again. When we arrived home, I made her stay dressed, as we made love on the living room rug. There was no foreplay as we were both extremely horny. We pulled our panties off, pulled up our dresses and I straddled Jasmine as she layed on her back. "Take me, gorgeous," she ordered.

"Yes ma’am," I answered and I slid my wet pussy down over her petite cock. It didn’t take either one of us long to cum.

When finished, we carefully undressed each other, cleaned off our makeup and slipped into something sexy. We went to her bed and slowly titillated each other for the next 45 minutes. It was a wonderful tryst.

Monday we went back to work. Things changed for the better. An e-mail message had been sent out to all employees in the facility. It was a short reminder from HR concerning sexual harassment. I was sure that it was in response to Jason’s e-mail complaint. At lunch, I found out that Lisa had been called to HR to have a quick chat about the situation. It must not have gone the way Lisa wanted. She had never had much use for HR, and today she was cussing them out.

"I’m supposed to make sure that all the harassment stops," she told us.

"You mean the swish can dress like a girl? Wear women’s clothes and prance around like a fairy?"

"Yea. Isn’t that nice?"

"That’s stupid. They really are idiots in HR."

"Is that all they said?" I asked.

"I’m supposed to keep a list of what he wears each day. Anything too girly." Lisa was disgusted.

"You mean like his hair and earrings?" Terri asked.

"Those don’t count," she said. "It’s accepted in general society for men to wear earrings and have long hair."

"What about camisoles, panties and women’s slacks?"

"I don’t know if I can say much about under garments. But I’ll list them whenever I notice them. If you can actually see panty lines and cami straps let me know each day. I think it will look better if I can say that other employees saw those items, as opposed to just me."

"Is that it?" I asked.

"And I’m also supposed to keep a daily list of his performance and any disruptions. They can use those against him."

"Are they going to try and fire him?"

"I think so. That was my impression, but they need documentation to protect themselves."

"So you have to protect him and stop the harassment? That stinks." Jasmine wrinkled her nose as she emphasized stink.

Lisa grinned and looked at Terri and Jasmine, "That’s what I will say to everyone. But whatever happens behind my back … well, there isn’t much I can do. Especially if I don’t see it. You know what I mean?"

They knew. The three of them chuckled like a coven of witches getting ready to drop the little children into the boiling cauldron. Upon returning to my office, I dutifully logged our conversation in my Govt directory. As long as I had it open, I flashed through all of the Jasmine pictures from the daily background scenes. I need to get some more recent pictures of her I thought.

On Tuesday Jason went to the doctor and I insisted that he come back with a prescription for Paxil. Even though the near term office situation was going to improve a little, I wasn’t going to let it last forever.

The girls started referring to Jason as ‘Fancy Britches’ and even called him that to his face. So I thought it only appropriate to give him fancy britches to wear each day. To keep Jason from going over the deep end, I alternated him from conservative to dressy each day. I owned a pair of dockers, and since we wore the same size, I let him wear those on some days. On other days I gave him the slacks from some of my dressier suits. On dress-down Friday’s he wore a tight pair of two pocket jeans from Liz Claiborne. No matter which day it was, it was evident to anyone who wanted to look that he was wearing women’s pants.

The next week was Thanksgiving. It was a short 3 day work week, so I decided to liven things up a bit more. I sent Jason back to work with his hair in a French braid. There was no subtlety to it all. It was obviously a female hairstyle. That turned up the office temperature a bit more. And for good measure, on Wednesday he wore a pair of plaid wool slacks. Lisa and Jason each filed their weekend reports.

The long weekend was wonderful therapy. Even though I had raised the anxiety level, the Paxil was starting to take effect and calm Jason. Jasmine knew that she would get to wear her breast forms for 4 full days, and that put her in a good mood. She moved her usual Wednesday night electrolysis appointment to Tuesday. That way she managed to keep 2 of her usual 3 weekly sessions, and got another night for dressing. Wednesday and Thursday we went to straight clubs, Friday and Saturday we went to gay clubs. During the days we went grocery shopping, saw a couple of movies and did some needed cleaning around the house.

Jasmine’s hair extensions were starting to look and feel a little worse for the wear. I called Gina and asked if we could stop by for a quick consultation. Gina agreed to give us 10 minutes of her valuable time.

"Yes, it is starting to get a little old," she agreed. "But if you can wait two more weeks, I think Jasmine’s own hair might be long enough to style."

"What kind of style do you think you can do?" I asked.

"I’m sure I’ll be able to cut it in a graduated blunt."

"Huh?"

"Sorry, a bob. It will be cut to the same length all the way around, and short underneath along the neck line. You can do a lot of things with it. You can leave it straight, curl just the ends under, or you can use a small curler or curling iron and put a very nice curl in. It looks fabulous with small tight curls. It is really easy to take care of. You can towel or blow dry, or even let it air dry. You have nice straight hair, and air drying should leave it styled nicely. It’s a great on the go style. What do you think?"

"Will I be able to pull it back in a ponytail?" Jasmine asked.

"I wouldn’t worry about that Jasmine. I think it sounds like the perfect style for you. I think you should do it," I urged.

"Shall I mark you down? Two Saturdays from now?" Gina asked.

I looked at Jasmine, waiting for her to decide. I even nodded my head trying to coax her along. "Ok."

Our weekend passed too fast and the dreaded Monday came too soon. On Monday morning I allowed Jason to wear his hair in a ponytail. I set out bikini panties and a panty girdle with pads. The girls wouldn’t be able to see his panty line, but they would see why I called him Cally. I laid out his corset, camisole, stockings to clip to his garters and a pair of slacks from my good black suit. It had light pinstripes, large cuffs and looked very dressy. I gave him the blouse cut in a man’s style that he had worn before.

I had him wear a pair of shoes that were new for work, although not new for the clubs. They were narrow with a low cut that reached half way from the ankle to the toe. It would be very easy to notice the stockings. They came with a dressy one and a half inch heel. They were very fashionable in the straight clubs. Up above, I had him wear his usual one-inch hoop earrings and a small stud above them.

For something else new, I made him carry a purse. Since we were usually the first ones to arrive in the morning, and almost the last to leave in the evening, it was unlikely anyone would see. I just wanted him to become more comfortable and reliant on a purse. He complained as usual, but then he complied.

"I can’t carry a purse. That’s like waving a red flag in front of a bull."

I ended the complaining quickly, "And don’t forget to carry a tampon with you."

The usual tension and problems followed him around work. He received comments from almost all of the girls in the office. He hid in his little cubicle as much as he could, but he did have to venture out to work on computers and take things to the copier room.

He managed to do his computer work first thing in the morning, before any of the attorneys arrived. He had the routine upgrades on their PCs taken care of before 9:00 everyday, and so they never saw him. They almost never wandered out of their offices, and probably wouldn’t have recognized half their employees if they had met them on the street. They were an insulated, pampered and spoiled group of hermits. They probably communicated between themselves, but I would never have known. I was totally out in the cold.

But when Jason did have to wander out into the open, the sarcasm and insults were always there. The nicest girls went out of their way to ignore him or not have any contact in the first place. The meanest, and Jasmine was one of them, went out of their way to confront and insult him. Jasmine called him ‘swish’ or ‘fancy pants’ or even ‘girly-boy’. She would pat him on his rear when he walked by, or make kissing noises as she followed him to the copy room.

Sometimes she would go to his vacant desk and take papers or throw papers on the floor. One day she took all of the staples out of his stapler and went through his desk to take all of his tape and paperclips. She did lot’s of little things to annoy him. While Terri wasn’t an active accomplish, she did act as lookout in case Jason returned. By midweek Jason no longer went to the vending machines with me. He did most of his copy room work at lunch when Jasmine was at the cafeteria. He started to keep as little active work as possible on his desk, and basically hid in his foxhole. In fact, that is what he started calling his cubicle, ‘The Foxhole’.

Of course he dutifully recorded all of the problems and e-mailed them every Friday to both Lisa and Kleber in HR. I always received a private copy. I would initial and date the paper, then I would scan it and place the electronic file in my Govt directory. The hard copies went into a paper file in my locked desk. I was acquiring a very damaging collection of paperwork.

Along with his complaints, I was starting to see paperwork from HR. I was their first contact in the law department, and I started to see official records of malfeasance, insubordination, disruptions and other problems. These were the result of Lisa’s weekly reports. In most cases they directly conflicted with Jason’s reports, and in some cases were total fabrications. I kept a separate log where I addressed the fabrications. That log stayed in my attaché and went home with me every night. The ammunition was accumulating.

Fortunately, the Paxil was doing its job and Jason was staying sane, if not exactly happy. I continued to choose his clothes and I always made him fashionable. On nice days he was dressed androgynously, and on those other days … let’s just say he looked sweet.

I received a surprise later that week. Terri hand delivered an envelope to me. It looked like an invitation and it was. It was from the director of the law department, Mr. Pearson. I was invited to his house on the following Saturday, the 11th. He was having his 12th annual Christmas party for the ‘staff’. I soon found out that the ‘staff’ consisted solely of the attorneys. I was surprised to find me included in the group. I was going to be the token female. The envelope was addressed to Karen Marlowe and Guest. Since I had no boy friend to invite, I tried to think of someone else to take with me. I had a delicious idea. I almost wet my panties thinking about it. I wondered if we could pull it off, and I couldn’t wait to spring it on Jasmine.

It was the most amazing idea. I was going to take Jasmine to the party and make love to her in Pearson’s own house. No that wasn’t right. ‘Make love’ wasn’t the right way to say it. It was missing the guttural emotions I was feeling. Sex? No even that wasn’t what I was feeling. I needed something more crude and vulgar. Fuck. I was going to fuck Jasmine in Pearson’s house. Better yet, his bedroom. Oh no, even better than that, on his bed! I was getting wet just thinking about it. More than anything else, I wanted to fuck Jasmine on Pearson’s own bed.

Wow! What a great idea. How could it get any better? If Pearson found out somehow. After the fact of course. Something he couldn’t do anything about. What? What? What if I left a used condom in his bed? Ohhh, gross. Way too gross for me. Ugh! I’d have to think about it. Something to say nyah, nayah!

But first things first. I had to make sure that I could even take Jasmine. I called Mr. Pearson, "Mr. Pearson, hi this is Karen Marlowe. How are you today? Great. That’s good. I just received your invitation to your party. Thank you very much. I would love to come. Mr. Pearson, I have a little favor to ask. Your invitation said ‘and guest’. That’s very generous. It just so happens that right now I’m … ah … between boyfriends. Yea, it is too bad. I’m a little reluctant to drive into an area I’ve never been before, I’m sure you’re in a great neighborhood, but I’m not very good at directions, and … ahhh … I’ll probably make a wrong turn on the way there, and … yes. Getting to the point, would it be alright if I brought my roommate? Thank you sir. I’m looking forward to the party. See you there. Thanks."

That was easy. Now, how do I prepare Jasmine? How do I disguise her? Wait a minute, check the schedule. It’s on the same day as Jasmine’s hair appointment. She’ll look totally different. No one will possibly recognize her. Perfect! Better than perfect, outrageous!

I was thinking out of order and incoherently. My mind was flying.

How do I get into his bedroom? How do I get the privacy to FUCK Jasmine in Pearson’s own bed? Think. Think. Think … emergency. Girl stuff. But both of us? Think, think, … I had it! Wardrobe malfunction. YES! Jasmine would have a wardrobe malfunction. We would need a private room for several, 15 or 20 minutes so I could sew up her problem. Her dress? Bra? It didn’t’ matter. I didn’t have to tell him. I didn’t even have to fake anything. He didn’t give a shit about me or what I was doing. He’d be too interested in talking with anybody other than me. ‘Mr. Pearson, Jasmine has a little wardrobe problem. Oh no, nothing too serious. Lucky for us, I always carry a little sewing kit in my purse. But we need somewhere private where she can take off her , ummm … so I can sew up the little problem. Your bedroom? That would be wonderful. Are you sure that’s ok? Thank you. Does it have a lock? It would be rather embarrassing to Jasmine if someone walked in and … Great. Thank you so much. We’ll be right back. Right after I FUCK her on your bed. What? You want to watch? I’m sorry, only super hot chicks are allowed to watch. Ha ha.’

Back to Jasmine. The party would be easy. She’d look totally different with her new hairstyle and color. I’d get some fake glasses for her to wear. None of these assholes would recognize her if she came up and gave them a blow job. They had no idea who, what or why she was. That part would be easy.

But. But. What would we do when we returned to work on Monday. Yea, they never came out of their holes, but this once they would. Someone would recognize her. We’d be toast. Her hair was the most obvious thing to change. Sunday, after the party I could change her to blonde. That wouldn’t be good for her hair, changing colors two days in a row. Gina could help me. There is probably something we can do on the color. Curls! We’d give her a real curly style on Saturday, and then wash them out for Monday. Yea, that could work. The glasses on Saturday would help. I’d make them large and give them a strong color. Not just the frames, but maybe we could tint the lenses. That would help. It would be expensive though. But wait, Jasmine had only one more payment on her credit card, then she would be out of debt.

Stop it! Get back to earth. She fought too hard to get out of debt. This was for me. If I wanted this, I’d pay for it. I was only $30,000 in debt. Another couple hundred wouldn’t make any difference in the long run.

What else? Hair color, curls, glasses and what else? Jewelry. Big drop earrings on Saturday, back to small hoops on Monday. No, studs. Small, small studs. What else? What? Nails! I hated to do it, but we could cut her nails on Sunday. She wouldn’t mind. Or maybe she would. It didn’t matter. A moustache! Yea, that would look stupid. Come on think. Think. Think. Blank, blank, blank.

Ok, I could work on that. I had almost two weeks. Yea, I could make this work. This could be awesome. Fuck you Mr. Pearson. And all of your stupid male pigs!

I looked at the clock and it was almost 6:30. I had been daydreaming a long time. And I was still wet. Jasmine was going to get a surprise when we reached home. I decide also that I wasn’t going to tell her anything. It would freak her out. The less she knew in advance the better. I’d drag her into this at the last minute, just like I did on everything else. She’d moan and whine, but she would go along

Damn it! I was brilliant.

"Jason, Let’s go home you sexy goddess."

The rest of the week and the next, I dressed Jason conservatively for work. I had him wear dockers and jeans most of the time. If Lisa wanted to bitch about him wearing jeans, that was the least of our worries. I wanted Jason to be in a good mood leading up to the party.

The next weekend, the weekend before the party and Jasmine’s hair appointment, we dressed to the nines and went to straight bars. I wanted her to get more experience with the paranoid section of our society. I made it a point to pick up men. I wanted her to get as much experience as possible. I wanted her to feel comfortable around straight men. She was getting good at flirting and I wanted her to get even better. The last thing I wanted was her to get uptight and unnatural in her conversation and body language. I knew it was going to be difficult for her when she faced the attorneys, so I wanted her to have some instinct and practice to fall back on.

Each night I made love to her fully dressed. No, it was closer to fucking. I took her into her bedroom and removed her shoes. I was making her wear 4-inch heels, and after 5 or 6 hours on them, I knew they were killing her feet. After she was on her back and on the bed, I reached under her dress and pulled off her panty girdle and panties. I made sure that she held her dress out of the way so that no pre-cum would accidentally leave a stain. I even told her what I was doing and why. "Your clothes are expensive and important, even in lust I want you to take care of them."

I pulled a condom out of my bra and surprised her to no end. She started giggling and asked, "Did you have that in there all night?"

"Absolutely. You never know where or when you’ll need one. Right?"

"Right."

I opened it and rolled it on her little penis. I was about to flip the foil aside when the IDEA hit me. I would leave the foil in Pearson’s bed. Yes! That thought excited me even more. I quickly pulled my panties off and mounted Jasmine. I soon made her cum and I was right behind her. I blew her a kiss, but made sure not to mess up our makeup.

I got off Jasmine and reminded her, "Don’t let your dress touch your wet penis. We don’t want any stains. I went to the bathroom and slid a tampon in, then returned to Jasmine with a Kleenex. I removed her condom, wiped off her penis and tossed the Kleenex aside. Another great idea hit me. Yes it was gross, but it would be fun to leave that Kleenex behind. Well maybe. Back to the topic at hand. I made Jasmine put her panties and girdle back on.

"Why? I’m just going to take them off," she protested.

I couldn’t really say, ‘Because we’re practicing for next week’. Instead I said, "Because I want to make sure that your penis is safely tucked away when you remove your dress. That is a very expensive dress and it looks absolutely gorgeous on you. I don’t want to take even the slightest little risk that you’ll stain it."

We ran the same routine the next night, Saturday. I again dressed Jasmine in ‘Expensive Hooker’ costume and took her to a very upscale club. We teased the boys and flirted until our pussies (at least mine) was soaking wet. We screwed twice that night. The first time was in the girl’s restroom. I wanted her to feel the adrenaline rush as we were in a public situation where we could get caught. Then I took her home and again practiced fucking with all of our clothes on. And once more, I went through the full ritual of re-dressing before undressing.

I did everything I could to get ready. I dressed Jason conservatively and made sure he took his Paxil every day. I took him out Monday night to buy some fake glasses. Since they were plain glass with no prescription power, I couldn’t get them tinted, which was just as well considering the cost. On Tuesday I called the salon and asked about both of us getting a manicure, along with Jasmine’s hair appointment. Jasmine’s salon fund was going to pay for her hair, but I was going to have to pony up for the manicures. The things I did for that girl! The things I did for my own perverse revenge against the jerks that I worked with.

If I pulled this off it was all going to be worth it.

I spent the week giving my work just the slightest bit of my attention. I was still plotting and scheming for our Saturday party. Then I received an e-mail on Friday morning. HR had put together their paperwork and justification and they were confirming that they were ready to fire Jason. They would fire him late in the afternoon. Security had been alerted and they were to report to the law department at 4:00 P.M.

I was in shock. I knew this was coming. I was expecting it, but it still hit me in the gut. I felt sick. Everything was real now. This was no longer a game. I was no longer getting even with the company and men vicariously through Jason and Jasmine. Jason and Jasmine were no longer preparing to spend the rest of their life as a girl. Now it was going to happen. I was no longer playing mind games with the girls and the law department. Everything had just gotten real. The fun was over. Now it was for real. Now it was real money and real war. The big cats were about to wake up, stretch their claws and step off the porch.

Gulp. At least now I didn’t have to worry about anyone recognizing Jason on Monday.

I couldn’t let this happen now. I had big plans for the weekend and Jason would be devastated. He wouldn’t be able to perform, and I wanted this way too much. I had to do something. I threw an envelope into my printer and pulled up a default address for a judge at the city courthouse. I printed out the envelope and then wrote out a quick note. ‘Sorry, I needed a diversion to get this man out of the office. I apologize’, and I even signed it. I put the note in the envelope, sealed it and then went to Jason’s cubicle.

"Jason, I’m in big trouble. I need this to get to the courthouse immediately. Here’s the keys to my car, run this over immediately and give it to the judge’s bailiff, would you please? Just go home from there. I’ll take a taxi home. Thanks, and hurry, it’s really important."

A little after 4:00, Lisa came to my office. "Have you seen Jason?"

"Yea, I had an emergency and I had him deliver a letter to the courthouse."

Lisa was apoplectic. "You did what? What the hell did you do that for? You got the e-mail. He’s supposed to be fired." I thought she was going to burst a vessel.

"It was an emergency. I had no choice." I was getting loud with her. I was pissed. "She shows up at 7:15 every morning. Fire her on Monday morning!"

"Her?" and Lisa gave me a quizzical look.

"Him, her , it, it doesn’t matter. You’re the one with the attitude. You’ve hated him since day one. You can wait one more day for your sadistic little revenge," I yelled at her.

My ferocity threw Lisa totally off balance. She backed out of my office without saying a word.

I sat at my desk until 4:30. I was sure that Pearson or Kleber was going to come chew me out. Nobody arrived by then, so I packed up, logged off and went home.

That night was a tough night for me. I was full of conflicting emotions and overflowing with guilt. My game had become totally real. Jason was fired and I wasn’t far behind. There was no turning back. The game was real. I was going to be fired, there was no doubt about that. And I had a fifty-fifty chance of being disbarred. I was stepping into the major leagues. I was going to face 100 mph fast balls. I wasn’t sure I was ready for this. I had thought I was ready, back when it had been a game. But now I was truly worried. I was worried sick.

I wanted this weekend more than anything, and in the end, that is what I hung my hope on. This weekend was going to be my focus. Monday would come, but now was the time to focus. I would never have another chance to say ‘Fuck you’. Even if it was going to be anonymous, I wanted this. Now more than ever. As I fell asleep alone in my own bed I kept repeating, focus, focus, focus.

 
 
CHAPTER TEN
 
 

Saturday morning we had breakfast and prepared for the salon appointment. Jasmine was only shaving every other day, but this was one of those days. There was very little facial hair left, and her face was looking much softer without that beard. She no longer used beard cover, and the overall amount of foundation was much less, also. When fully made up she looked much more realistic and less plastic. I had her put on just a touch of foundation and blush, along with some lipstick. No girl should ever go out without her lipstick.

She put on a pink , v-neck angora sweater and a pair of tight jeans for her appointment. She put in small studs for each of her earrings and she was ready. I drove her to Gina’s salon and brought along a small digital camera so that I could take pictures of her transformation. This was Jasmine’s big day and she was excited. I had told her that I had something special planned for the evening and she was going to have to dress very elegant. But she had no idea where we were going.

Gina met us and took us to her station. She began removing the extensions and commenting on Jasmine’s hair. "Jasmine, your hair has grown nicely over the last 2 months. Probably more than I would have expected. That’s good for your style, but the extensions were getting too far away from your scalp. That’s why you were starting to lose some hair. But that won’t matter now."

"So is her hair long enough for the style that you mentioned, Gina? The graduated …"

"Graduated blunt. It’s also called a bob. Bobs can be all kinds of lengths. Jasmine’s is a little shorter than what I had originally envisioned, but it will be fine. I’ve done bobs with hair a full inch shorter than this, and up to 2 inches longer, although we made same other changes. This hair will be great for you, Jasmine. Being a little on the short side, it will last longer before we have to start trimming."

"What if I don’t want to trim? What if I want it to grow long? Is this a good style from which I can do that?"

"Absolutely, Jasmine. This is a wonderful style with all kinds of potential. You’re going to love the style. Its real easy to care for, it gives you great freedom of movement and is more versatile than you think."

It took Gina about 30 minutes to remove all of the extensions and prepare Jasmine’s hair for the next step. Jasmine quietly sat in the chair, her pink cape covering her, and she intently watched in the mirror as Gina went through her procedures.

Next, we’re going to color your hair. You have a deep brunette color and I’m going to lighten that to a warm reddish brown. The shade will compliment your eyes, and the color saturation will give your hair a much nicer tone. It will look shinier and healthier. Gina then parted Jasmine’s hair down the middle. On each side she again parted the hair from the crown down behind each ear. Pinning the hair out of the way, she now had Jasmine’s hair parted into quadrants.

Gina had another beautician bring her the bottles and bowls with the hair coloring already in them. Gina started with the hair in front and using the pointed applicator on the bottle, she parted a small section and squeezed out the color. She started about one inch away from the scalp and covered the hair out to the end of the shaft.

"Your hair doesn’t color at the same rate from the scalp to the end," she explained. "The first inch or so of the hair shaft absorbs the color much faster than the rest of the shaft. That’s why I’m starting at the mid shaft and coloring only towards the end." As she explained what she was doing, her hands flew through Jasmine’s hair. She parted, applied color and massaged it into the hair, sectioned the next area and repeated the process.

"The color looks like it is absorbing nicely. Sometimes we have to compensate for permed or damaged hair, but your hair is in good condition Jasmine. I always start at the crown of the head and as I color each section I can take the wet hair and lay it over the top of you head. That makes it easier to take the lower section and work on it without any other hair getting in the way."

"So how do you handle the roots?" Jasmine asked.

"First I’ll color the mid shaft to the end all the way around your head. Then we set the timer and wait 25 minutes for it to soak in. Then I come back and I repeat the entire process, but I concentrate on the roots. You’ll see how it’s done."

Gina continued working down the first quadrant and finished coloring all of the hair in only 10 minutes. She switched to the other side, and quickly sectioned a bit of hair, squeezed the bottle and oozed the coloring onto the hair, then massaged it in. Another 10 minutes and the second quadrant was finished.

"The back is essentially the same, but I don’t use the bottle applicator anymore." She picked up one of the bowls and moved it closer to the chair. "From this point on I use a brush." She parted a section of hair, painted the coloring onto the hair while using her free hand to massage the coloring into the hair. Section by section she colored, laid the hair over the top of Jasmine’s head and moved to the next section. It took Gina less than 15 minutes to finish the rear two quadrants. "Set the timer for 25 minutes and I’ll be back to color your roots. Would you like a magazine or something to drink while you’re waiting?"

"Yes, please. A diet coke."

"Would you like anything Karen?"

I ordered the same. While waiting for Gina to return, I took several pictures of Jasmine. "You look really cute with your hair all gooped up," I said. She let me take several pictures of her sticking her tongue out at me. "Are you enjoying this?"

Her eyes closed and a smile spread across her face. "Karen, I can’t begin to explain how I feel. This is so great. I feel so feminine, so sexy, so horny — you wouldn’t believe what an erection I have. I love the aromas, the feel of Gina taking my hair and working with it. I don’t even mind the slimy feel of my hair right now. This is just so great … it’s almost better than sex. In fact, right now I think it is better than sex."

"Is that a slap in my face? Is sex with me that lousy?" I grinned as I teased her.

"Karen, I love sex with you, but right now I am in heaven."

Gina came back from her break and announced, "Times up. Now we do the roots. This will go much faster." She again started with the front quadrant and using the brush, painted the part down the middle of Jasmine’s head. She applied a large amount of the coloring in the part. Then she began sectioning hair and painting the roots with the brush. It seemed like the whole process only took 15 minutes or less. Gina finished brushing coloring onto the roots then set the timer again. "This time we will wait 20 minutes."

I took a few more pictures. "You are going to look so hot tonight. I can’t wait to show you off to the rest of the world."

"So where are we going tonight?"

I didn’t want to worry her. I wanted her to enjoy the experience. "That is top secret. I’ll tell you when we get there. But I can tell you this, never in a million years would you be able to guess where we’re going."

"Sounds mysterious," she giggled.

Gina returned and led Jasmine to the sinks. Jasmine sat in one of the chairs and leaned back with her neck resting on the sink. Gina checked the water temperature, then took the spray hose and began washing the color out of Jasmine’s hair. She massaged the hair and squeezed the color out for several minutes, while Jasmine laid there with her eyes closed.

"The color came out great. It’s a little darker now than it will be when it’s dry, but I think you’ll love the results. I’m going to use a mild shampoo and shampoo your hair, then we’ll go cut and style it." Gina massaged the shampoo into Jasmine’s hair, building up a lovely set of suds. She rinsed the shampoo and wrapped a towel around the hair. She gently lifted Jasmine’s head and helped her out of the chair. "Back home," Gina said as she led Jasmine back to Gina’s station.

Gina swung the chair around so Jasmine could watch in the mirror. Gina blotted Jasmine’s hair with the towel then tossed the towel aside. "How do you like the color?" she asked Jasmine.

"Wow! It looks so much different. Richer. I like it," she pronounced.

"Good, now we’re going to cut it. As I said before, I’m going to cut what we call a graduated blunt. The hair will be long, hanging to just under your chin and jaw bone. This is a really cute style, but not all women can wear it."

"Why’s that?"

"It accents the neck and shoulders. Large women don’t look good with the neck exposed. This cut works best on smaller women, especially those with a long thin neck and smaller facial figures. A large nose sticks out of this style and ruins the lines. You should look really cute with this, Jasmine."

"Super," Jasmine giggled as she wiggled to a more comfortable position in her chair.

Gina used a comb to remove all of the tangles in Jasmine’s hair. Then she parted the hair down the crown of her head, from the forehead to the back of the neck. Next she sectioned the hair at a 45 degree angle in the back. The high point was half way up the part and the lower point was behind the ear. She pinned the hair out of the way. Gina did this on both sides of Jasmine’s head leaving a triangle of hair at the nape of her neck. Gina sectioned the lower one inch of this triangle and pinned the rest up out of the way. Using a comb as a guide, she cut the hair at a slight angle; lower on the outside of the head and higher towards the middle. She did this on both sides. Holding the hair in her hand, she used the tips of the scissors to point the hair; she cut tiny Vs in the hair across the length.

"What I’ve just done is point the hair on the nape of you neck. It will make it feathery when dry and gives a soft lower line to your style. Now I’m going to work up this triangle we have here, and cut the rest of this hair to the same length." Gina spun Jasmine’s chair around and handed her a mirror so she could see what Gina was describing. "This loose hair on you neck, below the scalp, I’ll use a razor to shave that off when we are completely done with the cut. You are going to have a long neck line and it will be very important to keep it clean. I’d suggest shaving the back of you neck at least every other day."

"I can do that," Jasmine said. "It won’t be long ‘til I won’t be shaving my face at all, so this should be a quick little chore."

"That a girl, Jasmine." Gina finished cutting the triangle area to the same length as the nape hair. "Now I’m going to cut the sides. First I release about half an inch of the hair that I have already parted. Nest, we comb it straight down." Gina was going through each action as she described it to Jasmine. Jasmine held her mirror in front of her so that she could follow the progress in the large mirror behind them. "After combing the hair straight down, I grip it between my fingers and cut a smooth straight line." Gina cut the hair then combed it down several times to make sure it was lying the way that she wanted.

"Ok, now we repeat and work our way around the side. Each time we release a bit of hair, we’re taking some strands from higher up your crown. The hair from you crown will actually be longer than the lower hair. It will look like the top hair is extending from the crown all the way to the cut and covering the lower hair underneath. It gives a very pretty and very clean line. As we work our way up we now reach hair that is hanging over your ear. This is a little more complicated here, but the effect is the same. I’m going to cut the hair a bit longer as we work our way to the front. Not much, and when it is curled under ever so slightly, it looks even all the way around. When we finish cutting you hair, I’ll blow it dry and show you how it would look if left perfectly straight, just so you know. I still plan on giving you a wet set and curl your hair for tonight, but you need to know what it will look like after you wash the curls out."

Gina was a gem. She was so good at explaining everything, I was sure Jasmine understood perfectly. She finished the first side and started the second. She repeated a mantra as she went along, "Release the hair, comb in its natural fall, grip and cut to the established guide length." She repeated the mantra twice then smiled at Jasmine, "Do you think you could do this yourself?"

Jasmine laughed, "Probably not in our lifetime. I’ll leave it to the great artist Gina."

"Why thank you, dear. I do like to believe that this is an artistic process."

"It sure is," we both agreed.

Gina finished the side. "Now we have the front left. There are several options here." She spun the chair around so that Jasmine could look into the big mirror. "We can leave it like this, with it parted in the middle and laid back to each side. Some women prefer this method because they don’t like the feel of hair falling down on their forehead. But my recommendation is to let me pull a small amount of hair down the front and cut bangs. Now we can do long bangs or short bangs, thick bangs or thin bangs. If it were me, I’d go with short bangs, but thin. That would look good with straight or curly styling. What would you prefer?’

"Karen, help me. I don’t know what to choose."

"When I’m not sure I usually defer to the judgment of the artiste. Unless of course you feel strongly one way or another," I offered.

"Gina, you’ve done a beautiful job so far, I defer to your expertise."

"Good choice, Jasmine. Short and thin it is." Gina pulled hair from both sides and combed it straight over Jasmine’s face. Then she formed a nice part about an inch up the crown and combed any extra hair back to the sides. She pinned the side hair out of the way, then using her fingers to hold the hair she cut it slightly above the eyebrows. "When it dries it’ll lay higher.

"Ok, we’re done cutting, Jasmine. Next I will show you how to blow dry your hair. This will be your daily procedure for styling your hair. When we’re done, I’ll take you back to the sink, wet your hair and set it for you." Gina took a brush and her hair blower and began to dry the hair. "Brush the hair away from the scalp and blow the air in this direction. You’re lifting the hair to give it more body. Towards the bottom, use your brush to curl the hair under and blow the hot air over the brush. This style looks best with the bottom of the hair curled under. You can do just the front or all the way around. I personally like to see the hair curled under all the way around."

Gina quickly dried Jasmine’s new style. "I think that came out really nice, Jasmine. I like the color, and that style works fabulously with your build. Like I said before, this style works best with petite features and a long thin neck. This is you, in my opinion. What do you think?"

Jasmine looked like a real girl. I was impressed. Transvestites can’t wear short hair. Their larger facial features, coupled with thick, short necks look ridiculous with short hair. But Jasmine made it work. She looked feminine and petite. Looking at her wearing this style with this color, there could be absolutely no doubt in anyone’s mind that she was a girl. The style and color worked brilliantly on her.

Jasmine was just as impressed. "Gina, you are a miracle worker. I look like a real girl. I can’t believe it. I love it. I love it, I love it, I love it."

"Thank you. I think it is fabulous on you. Honey, with this hair and a bit of makeup, no one in the world would ever think that you are anything other than a beautiful, young woman. Just wait ‘til you see the curls that I’m going to give you. You are going to have the boys drooling tonight."

"Yes," she squealed. "I just love this."

Gina took Jasmine to the sink and wetted her hair again. Back to the styling chair and Gina again combed out the tangles. Gina started on the top in front and rolled up a section of hair with a one-inch roller. "I’m starting with a large roller on top, because we’re going to keep your hair straight for the first inch and a half from the part. Then we’ll turn you into a mass of tight little curls. This is a beautiful style and looks extremely sexy." After working her way around the top of Jasmines head, Gina switched to much smaller rollers. She used a setting lotion with all of the small rollers. "This lotion will give your curls excellent hold, and they will give your hair a wet look. It’s all the rage and will look fab for you."

It didn’t take Gina long to roll her hair, maybe twenty minutes. Then she put Jasmine under a drier. "This won’t take long with your short hair. Do you want another coke?"

"I couldn’t possibly. I already have to go to the bathroom."

"You can go with the curlers in your hair. It won’t hurt anything."

"No, no. I don’t want to change any of this. I can keep going, please continue."

Thirty minutes later, Jasmine was back in Gina’s styling chair. Gina carefully unrolled each curler and each section of Jasmine’s hair would pop right back to its rolled shape. After removing all of the rollers, Gina took a small comb and brushed out the crown of Jasmines head. She flattened the large curls, and used her fingers to rearrange a few of the curls and announced Jasmine finished. "What do you think?"

"Wow. It’s fabulous. You’re fabulous. I love it."

"I’m glad you’re pleased, Jasmine. It was my pleasure serving you. I’m really happy that we could bring out the truly beautiful woman that you are. Have a wonderful time at the party tonight."

Jasmine was in heaven as we left Gina’s station. "We have one more thing to do before we leave," I announced.

"What’s that?"

"We’re both going to get a manicure."

"Whoopee," she squealed.

I went to the front desk and told the receptionist that we were ready for our manicure and she led us to our aestheticians. We spent 45 minutes having our nails, shaped and polished. By the time we finished, we had been at the salon almost four and a half hours. Whew!

Back home Jasmine grabbed me as we walked in the door and gave me a long passionate kiss. "What was that for?" I asked.

"Oh, nothing. Just the best morning of my life, that’s all."

"I’m glad you’re happy, maybe I can get some tonight," I grinned.

"You can get some right now. I’m ready to explode."

"I’d love to, but I don’t want to mess your beautiful new hairstyle. Let’s wait until tonight, shall we? I need a bite to eat. Come on, I’ll let you make me some bacon and eggs for lunch."

After lunch we cleaned up the kitchen and relaxed in the living room. There was a women’s figure skating competition on TV and we watched the girls in their little skirts. We watched the news and then started getting ready for the evening. Since the electrolysis had progressed to its current point, Jasmine could get dressed much quicker. Makeup used to take the longest, but that had been reduced considerably through the need for less makeup and her expanded experience.

I laid out Jasmine’s clothes for the evening. I still liked the idea of controlling what she wore and how she looked. She was very submissive and preferred the arrangement. I was going to have to get her panties off later, so to make it easier I had her wear thigh-high stockings with elastic, rather than stockings and garters. I gave her pink panties to wear under her padded panty girdle. She also wore her corset of course, a pink underwire bra and a knee length slip. Her dress was a bright red in honor of the holiday season. It was a conservative dress with a hem that extended to mid calf. It had long sleeves and a square cut neckline. The waist was ruched and very form fitting. After applying her own makeup she put on an exquisite, herringbone gold chain. Her earrings were drop style made with gold and red rubies. I allowed her one ring on each finger, a tiny wrist watch with the thinnest band imaginable and a simple bracelet for each wrist. She wore her 3-inch red heels.

I borrowed another dress from Jasmine. Her wardrobe was much larger than mine, especially in the dress and skirt categories. I did have her beat in the business suit category. I wore a slinky black dress that started with a v-neck and finished just below the knee. The long sleeves were covered in lace. I also borrowed a pair of 3-inch black strap heels from Jasmine. I slipped a condom in my bra, while I touched up my makeup.

"Jasmine, do you have a tampon in your purse?"

"Yes ma’am. Also my lipstick and mascara. Will I need my wallet?"

"Not tonight." I filled my purse with my essentials, including an extra panty liner and a small sewing kit.

"Jasmine, you look beautiful tonight. I have never seen you more gorgeous. You’ll be busy tonight with all the men drooling after you." I handed her her new glasses. "Put these on and let’s see how cute you look."

She put the glasses on and they looked very good on her. "So where are we going?"

I handed the invite to her. The envelope said Ms. Karen Marlowe and Guest. "Ooohh," she cooed as she opened the envelope. She read the invitation and then looked at me puzzled. "Who is Charles M. Pearson?"

"He is my boss at work. He’s the head of the law department."

Jasmine’s eyes popped out of her head as she screeched, "What? You can’t be serious!"

I walked over and gently squeezed her shoulders. In a quiet but determined voice I said, "Jasmine, you are one of the most beautiful women I have seen. Don’t take just my word for it, you heard what Gina said." I looked her in the eye as I spoke. "There is not a single person there who can recognize you for anything other than a beautiful woman. If you walked up to these guys and handed them your drivers license they still wouldn’t have a clue as to who you are."

"But what about the girls? Lisa and Terri and Jasmine and the others?"

"They’re not invited. This is only for the attorneys. There won’t be anyone there who can recognize you, or even knows who you are." She just stared at me. "You can do this Jasmine. I know you can, and you know you can."

"But why do you even want to take me there?"

"Because I want to thumb my nose at them. I don’t like any of them. They have treated me like a leper. I’m nothing but a token female for them. So, I thought it would be fun to take them a real token female. One who is much prettier than me."

"I’m not sure that I can do this," she insisted.

"And why not? Come on Jasmine, we go out in the straight world all the time. This is no different. They don’t know you any more than the guys we tease in the clubs. And besides, you have never been more beautiful, more feminine, more awesome than you are right now. This is a piece of cake for you. Come on, let’s have some fun. Let’s strut out the newest heartthrob of greater Chicagoland." I gave her a large encouraging smile. She gave me a small, halfhearted smile. "Great! This will be the best night of Jasmine’s new life!"

We put on our coats, picked up our purses, took one more quick glance in the mirror and walked out the door. When we reached the garage I helped her in the car. "I wish I had a nicer car for you. You are way too beautiful for this piece of junk."

We reached Mr. Pearson’s house in the suburban town of Oakpark. Oakpark was one of the most affluent cities in the entire United States. The Christmas street decorations were beautiful and to be seen everywhere one looked. There was a light dusting of snow on the ground, and everything looked absolutely white and wonderful. It truly was a lovely evening. I parked the car and looked at Jasmine. "Are you ready for this?"

"I’m not sure."

"That’s not the answer I wanted to hear. Not from such a vibrant and confident woman as you. Let me ask one more time, are you ready?"

"Yes ma’am."

We walked up to the front door holding onto one another. The light dusting of snow was a bit slippery. I rang the doorbell and Mr. Pearson arrived momentarily. " Karen, welcome. Please come in. You look wonderful tonight. Is this your roommate?"

"Yes she is. Mr. Pearson, I’d like to introduce you to my friend, Jasmine. Jasmine, Mr. Pearson is our host this evening."

They shook hands. "Jasmine, you will light up this party. You’re very beautiful."

"Thank you Mr. Pearson. It is an honor to meet you, and I sincerely appreciate your invitation. I know I’m a bit of an inconvenience and I …"

"Nonsense," he said. "I am most happy that you could come. Please, let me take your coats and hang them up. Then I’ll introduce you to the others." Charles M. Pearson was a charming and gracious host. He hung up our coats and then walked us through the foyer to the living room.

"Mr. Pearson, you have a beautiful home," Jasmine said.

"Would you like a tour?"

"Yes, please."

"No problem. Let me introduce you to the other guests and then I’ll show you the rest of the house."

There were 14 other attorneys in the office, and 12 of them and their wives were at the party. Mr. Pearson introduced us to each person, and gave us a tidbit of information about each person. Not being the social type, I was worried what I would say to people and how I would be able to mingle, but Charles made all of that very easy. He had a warm personality and gentle sense of humor. He was nothing like I would have pictured him, based on our contact at work. At work he was hard-charging and tough. Here he was just the opposite.

We spent almost 45 minutes meeting everyone, and the time flew by. It was some of the easiest conversation I have ever had. By the third introduction, Jasmine was as completely at ease as I was . All of her nerves seemed to have melted away. After the introductions Charles took us to the kitchen and he made us both a drink. I had a marguerita and Jasmine had a martini. I didn’t know that she drank martinis and I gave her a look of mild surprise. She just smiled.

With drinks in hand, we began the tour. It was just what you would expect in Oak Park. The front foyer was two and a half stories tall, with a winding staircase and a massive chandelier. To one side of the foyer was the library with cherry wood and a huge bay window. To the other side of the foyer was the living room, which eventually split into the kitchen and the dining room. The living room had a two-story fireplace and there was a roaring fire blazing inside. From the kitchen one could walk out onto a large deck complete with gazebo, or head the other way towards the laundry room, pantry and garage.

He took us upstairs and he showed us the master bedroom, complete with walk-in closets, sitting area, two bathrooms - each with its own Jacuzzi - and a king size canopy bed. All of the decorating was perfect. There were 4 other bedrooms, each with its own full size bath.

Mr. Pearson, do you have children?" Jasmine asked.

"Yes, two boys and one girl. The boys are both doctors, one lives in Boston and the other in Baltimore. My youngest, Sheila, is attending Cornell."

"How nice," she said. "We didn’t meet your wife yet. Is she down stairs?"

Oops. Faux pas. He paused for just the slightest moment and said, "My wife and I divorced a couple of years ago. She moved with her friend to Dallas."

"I’m sorry," I muttered.

Charles led us back to the kitchen, where he was called away by one of the other guests. "Want another drink?" I asked.

"You trying to get me drunk?"

"Why Jasmine, my intentions are perfectly honorable. I would never try to get you drunk and take advantage of you."

"Good, because you don’t have to. I’m an easy girl, if you get my drift."

I mixed us both another drink, then we migrated towards the food. We stood around the hors d’oeuvres and ate a couple huge shrimp. As we were standing around, a couple of the wives walked over and made small talk with us. Without their husbands with them, their true personalities emerged. They were snotty and stuck up. Not at all likable. But we smiled and played along.

A couple of the guys strolled by later and made small talk as they filled up their plates. It was becoming obvious that we didn’t have much in common with these people. Some of them were nice enough, but we didn’t relate on the same social scale. We had no children in Ivy League colleges, no yachts, no country club memberships and no 6,000 square foot homes.

Charles wandered over a bit later and struck up another conversation. He was the only person there that we could actually talk with. He asked about families, where we went to school, our hobbies, he asked about boy friends and he just did a nice job with the small talk. He was actually trying. We chatted for about ten minutes, and then he wandered over to another group of guests.

"Not exactly what I expected," Jasmine said.

"What, the party?"

"No, the party is kind of what I imagined, but Charles isn’t as bad as I thought." You’ll change your mind later, I thought.

"So how do you feel? I mean how is Jasmine getting along? Relaxed?"

"Yea. Now that I’m here and we’ve met everyone, I feel fine."

"Great, I have an idea on how to liven up this party. Let’s go see Charles, and just play along with me."

I took Jasmine over to the small knot of people that Charles was talking with, and stood to the side waiting for an opportunity to intrude. He turned to us almost immediately. "Charles, Jasmine here has a little problem. Nothing serious … just a little wardrobe malfunction."

"Is there something I can do to help?"

"Fortunately, I always carry a sewing kit with me. But is there some place private where she and I can do some discrete sewing?"

"Certainly. Use my bedroom upstairs."

"Is there a lock on the door?"

"Yes. Go ahead and feel free to use it."

"Thanks," I said and I led Jasmine towards the foyer.

"What are you planning?" she asked suspiciously.

I gave her my evil little grin and said, "Nothing much."

By the time we reached the stairs she figured it out. "You’re nothing thinking what I think you’re thinking, are you?"

"I don’t know. What do you think I’m thinking?" I continued grinning as we ascended the stairs.

"This isn’t a good idea, Karen."

We stopped half way up the stairs and I leaned closer to her. "Just a little while ago you said you were easy. I want to find out," I whispered in her ear.

She gave me that hopeless look of hers when she knew I was in control.

We entered Charles’ bedroom and I turned on the lights. Then I closed the door and locked it. I turned around and looked at Jasmine as I leaned back against the door, as if I were guarding it. She stood in the middle of the room and gave me a little grin. "You are the most gorgeous vixen I have ever seen. Come here, I want you."

She walked over to me and I took her hands and looked in her eyes. I leaned forward and gave her just the lightest kiss on the lips. "Walk this way." I took her to the bed, and started pulling up the hem of her dress. "Hold your hem up," I instructed. She stood still, watching and grinning as I reached under the hem of her dress and grasped her panty girdle. I pulled it down to her ankles. Her pink panties slid down with them. "Oh, oh. Look what I’ve done now," I whispered with a grin. I gently pushed her down to a sitting position on the edge of the bed. "Skooch up on the bed," I whispered.

She pulled her dress out from under her and lifted it over her waist. Then she laid back and waited for me. I slide off my panties and noticed that my panty liner was almost saturated. I was so wet I was almost dripping. I looked at Jasmine. She looked so vulnerable lying on the bed, her dress pulled up over her waist and her little penis fully erect and pointing towards her tits. I crawled on the bed and straddled her. While she grinned and watched, I pulled the condom out of my bra, and tore it open. Her grin got bigger.

"Were you planning this all along?"

"All along," I whispered.

I tossed the foil wrapper towards the head of the bed, and unrolled the condom over her penis. She began to squirm with anticipation. I crawled up higher on her, grabbed her penis, aimed it at the ceiling, and slowly lowered my pussy over it. She slid into me with exquisite pleasure. I began to wiggle and squirm and move her penis around. I sat still and tensed and relaxed my vaginal muscles several times as I manipulated her penis. She groaned softly and closed her eyes. I tensed my muscles and slowly raised myself up. She groaned again. I slid down on her penis and she exhaled and sighed. I repeated the motion. Slowly. Up, then down. Tighten my muscles and slide up, then down. I could feel her inside me and it felt wonderful. I was very wet and she slid in and out so effortlessly. I rocked back and forth, bending her penis ever so slightly, but giving her additional pleasure and sensations.

Up and down, in and out. Slowly, then faster, and faster and faster … Our breathing picked up, my pulse rate jumped, the pleasure nerves in my pussy were reaching their saturation point. One more stroke. One more stroke. Faster, faster and then it hit me. I exploded in pleasure and intensity. I squeezed my muscles as tight as I could and Jasmine exploded inside of me. I pushed down as hard as I could, trying to force her as deep as possible into me. The pleasure was so intense that I gripped her hips and tried to hold her still. I couldn’t handle any more stimulation. Push down with my pussy and hips. Trap her deep inside me. Hold her hips so she can’t move. We froze in a tense muscle lock. Our breathing froze as we let the orgasms flow through us. I could feel my body shiver and quake as the orgasm shook me. Slowly, slowly my muscles started to relax. My breathing started in gasps, as I tried to breath through my mouth and remain quiet. I quit pushing with my hands and hips and pussy. I slowly began to relax as the remnants of the mighty orgasm retreated to my groin and pussy.

I opened my eyes and looked at Jasmine. She was gasping for breath as well. Her eyes looked into mine and we shared a secret smile. How wonderful that had been. The memory in all my nerve endings and muscles seemed to be recollecting and relishing the experience. I felt immensely happy. I started to feel very relaxed. I wanted to flop on top of Jasmine and kiss her. To lie on her and just enjoy her softness, smell her perfume and taste her lipstick.

Her little up turned nose looked even more like a button with her glasses pushed half way down her nose. Her make-up was perfect, from her glossy red lips to her eyes with their large curled lashes. And her curly hair framed her perfectly shaped face. Her cheeks were flushed and glowed with the exertion of our efforts. I would have loved to stay there for an hour, but I couldn’t. We had to move.

I raised my hips and let her fall from my pussy. "Stay here and protect your dress. I’ll be back."

I picked up my purse and went to the bathroom. I pulled the tampon from my purse and slid it into me. I threw the wrapper in the wastebasket. That should also give Charles something to think about. I took the used panty liner out of my panties and replaced it with a dry one. I pulled on my panties and went to help Jasmine.

I took a Kleenex, wrapped it around her condom and pulled it off. Then I gently wiped her juices off her shaft. I stroked her penis a couple of times to milk the remaining semen from her, and I soaked it up with the Kleenex. Then I held her dress as she slipped off the bed. I continued to stand behind her and silently hold her dress up, while she pulled on first her panties and then her girdle. I dropped her dress and picked up the used Kleenex. I took it to the toilet and flushed it away. I waved to Jasmine and silently called her into the bathroom. While she checked her makeup in the mirror, I stepped behind her and fluffed her hair and arranged her curls back into their proper position. I looked her over and checked to make sure that her makeup was proper.

"How do I look," I whispered. "Is my makeup ok?"

"You look fine," she said.

I went back to the bed and smoothed the comforter. I saw the condom foil laying next to a pillow. I smiled. Both Jasmine and I looked around and made sure everything was back to normal. Then we stepped over to the door.

"You really are easy," I said with a grin. "And you really are good. I loved that. You were wonderful."

"So were you," she answered. "So that is what this was all about. That’s why you wanted to come to this party. You wanted to have sex on his own bed, didn’t you?"

"No, that’s not it at all. I wanted to fuck on his bed. There’s a difference. What we just did was way to good to call sex. That was real fucking, Jasmine my sweetie."

She almost burst out laughing. "Ok," she whispered. "Are we ready to return to the party?"

"Big breath," I said. "Ok, now that you’ve been sewn back together we can go."

I immediately began studying people’s faces trying to see if anyone knew what we had done. Did anyone even miss us? Charles saw us and walked over. "Is everything ok?" he asked with sincere concern.

"Perfect," said Jasmine. "I’m all set and ready to party. I’m thirsty, would you make me another martini? That first one was excellent." Jasmine flashed me a grin as she followed Charles over to the bar.

The second half of the evening was as boring as the first half. Only the intermission made the evening worthwhile. I spent more time talking with the other attorneys, and Jasmine spent some time talking with Charles. It wasn’t long before the first couple left, which gave Jasmine and me our opportunity to escape.

We found Charles and I thanked him for the evening. He walked the two of us to the foyer and thanked us for coming. I turned and walked to the closet and took out my coat and put it on. I reached in for Jasmine’s coat and went to hand it to her, but she wasn’t with me. I looked around and saw her still talking with Charles. ‘I hope he didn’t discover what we did,’ I thought to myself. A few seconds later Jasmine came over and I helped her with her coat. She said nothing and had the oddest look on her face. I was worried, "Jasmine, what did he say? Did he hear us? Does he know what we did?"

She shook her head and said, "I’ll tell you in the car." She turned and walked out the door.

We walked out to the car and I helped Jasmine enter the passenger side, before I sat down behind the wheel. "Ok Jasmine, tell me what he said. Does he know we fucked upstairs? Are we busted?"

"No that’s not it. He … uhmmm … he asked me for a date."

My stomach went numb and my heart skipped a beat. "He what? What did you say?"

"He asked if he could call me."

"No!" I was still stunned, but I could feel a bit of humor sneaking into the back of mind. I was so stunned I couldn’t think of anything to say for a few seconds. Then the obvious question hit me, "What did you tell him?"

"I think I said yes."

"What? Are you serious? No, you’re kidding me, aren’t you?"

"I don’t think so."

"How could you? I mean, what did you say?"

"Well I was so flustered that I didn’t know what to say. I just hemmed and hawed for a minute and he said, ‘I know what you’re thinking. Here you are, a beautiful, no, a gorgeous, young woman, and some old man tries to hit on you. That’s not the way it is at all, Jasmine. I assure you that my intentions are strictly honorable. I’m lonely, Jasmine. Lonely for female conversation and companionship. You are so beautiful, and it was so easy talking with you tonight. I had forgotten how lonely I was. If you will go out with me, I promise that I will treat you as lady, and I will show you a good time. It will be a very pleasant and enjoyable evening. Please say yes.’

"So I said, ‘I’m not sure if this is a good idea.’

"He says, ‘Please, give me one chance. Tomorrow I leave for a two-week skiing vacation in the Canadian Rockies. When I return I’ll call you. Ok?’

"I guess I didn’t put up enough of a fight because he says, ‘Thanks, you won’t regret it. I don’t even need your telephone number since you live with Karen. I’ve got her home number at work. Thanks, Jasmine. I promise you’ll have a nice time.’

"And that was it. I was too numb to say anything. Not numb, shocked. I was so shocked that when he pointed me towards you and the door I just walked off."

"Holy shit!" I exclaimed. "Oh my god! What a hoot! This is just too rich. Jasmine, this is just too fantastic."

"It is? Why?"

"Don’t you see? Jasmine has been totally validated. Jasmine has arrived. Is there any doubt in your mind that you can pass as a beautiful, hot babe?"

She looked at me and a huge smile started to spread across her beautiful face. Yes, she could know see it also. She shifted in her seat and with that huge grin looked out the front window. She said nothing, just smiled. The snow was falling lightly and sparkling in the streetlights. The night was beautiful.

As I began the drive home, both of us were silent; filled with our own thoughts and fantasies. My fantasy had to do with Jasmine and two naked bodies. Something about her being wanted by a man made her that much more desirable. I was becoming infatuated with the idea of taking her when we reached home. It was strange in a way; I wanted the beautiful and feminine Jasmine, but I also wanted to be ravaged by a real man. I wanted to be the submissive one, and I wanted to succumb to a strong and dominating mate. I wanted more than her petite little penis in me. I wanted a cock the size of Mikey’s. I fantasized that Jasmine’s beautiful face looked down over me, as she pinned me to the bed and inserted a huge cock into my pussy, filling it so full that I thought it would burst. As I fantasized, I could feel my pussy getting wetter and wetter. I was sure that my panty liner was saturated and I was staining the back side of my dress. I began to squirm on the seat, and my foot started pushing harder on the gas pedal.

I have no idea what Jasmine was thinking … fantasizing … but we both rushed up to the apartment. We barely had the door closed and our purses were lying on the floor as we embraced in a tight clench. I had my tongue in her mouth immediately. She was pushing her smooth crotch against me and squirming against my pussy. I thought I could hear my soaking wet panty liner squishing like a sponge. I pushed my breasts against hers, and I could feel my nipples harden and become sensitive to the rubbing.

For once, I wanted my fantasy and not hers. I broke our kiss. "Let’s clean up and climb into bed. Tonight, I want you to take me. I want you to take charge, climb on top of me and do whatever you want. Just this once, I want to lay back and be the submissive one. I want you to forcefully take me to nirvana. Can you do that? Can you take total and complete control of my body and make it do whatever you want?" I licked her from her chin, across both lips and over her nose. "Tonight, do you think you can be man enough?"

"Absolutely my beautiful, Karen. But it’s Jasmine that wants to do this, not Jason."

"I understand, Jasmine. I’m yours."

"Then let’s wash off our makeup and put on the softest, silk negligees that we have. Now woman!" and she said it most convincingly.

I used the bathroom first, quickly taking off my dress and underclothes before my wet pussy leaked through my panty liner. I washed my face, brushed my teeth, sprayed on ever so lightly a bit of fresh perfume, and ran to my bedroom for my best silk negligee. I jumped into Jasmine’s bed and waited for her … but I couldn’t wait. One hand found its way to my breast and a finger slowly began circling my nipple, making it hard and sensitive. The cool and silky feeling of the silk on my nipple was the most exquisite feeling. My other hand slid across my stomach and down to my crotch. It pulled up the bottom of my negligee and exposed my soaking wet pussy. One finger, two fingers and then three fingers slid into my pussy. My hips started rocking in rhythm with my fingers sliding in and out of my pussy. A finger slid up to my clit and gently rubbed it and massaged it. The hips began arching and as one finger caressed my clit, two others slid in and out of my pussy. My nipple was feeling awesome, tingling and at the same time trying to recoil from the strong and erotic sensations running through it.

I soon reached orgasm. One hand grabbed my breast and the other grabbed my entire crotch. My hips arched into the air and froze in a spasm of pleasure. My muscles locked while the sensations ran through me and over me. The nerve endings slowly began to relax from their over-stimulation, and the muscles soon began to follow. I fell back into the bed, sweating and panting. I was hot and I kicked the sheet off my body. I was still lying with one hand on my breast and one on my crotch when Jasmine entered.

"Can’t wait?" she smiled. "Now it’s time for some real action." Jasmine crawled between my legs and began licking and sucking my clit. I was quickly pulled back into pleasure mode, my nerve endings were once again tingling and tensing. Jasmine reached under each cheek and dug her long, bright red nails into my flesh. My cheeks reflexively tightened and pushed my pussy up into Jasmine’s tongue. I started to begin pushing my pussy and hips in a rhythmic pattern. Jasmine rode along. One of her hands slid out from under my buttocks and a finger slid into my pussy. Her finger stroked in and out of my pussy as her tongue continued to lick and suck on my clit. She soon brought me to another spasm of pleasure.

After my muscles relaxed, I fell back into the bed and begged for time. "Please stop. I can’t continue right now. I need a moment."

Jasmine took the hem of my negligee and removed it by pulling it over my head, leaving my sweaty and glistening body fully exposed. She began to slowly rub her hand over my stomach. Her hand could glide easily with the lubrication of my sweat. First she used one hand and then both. They slowly worked their way towards my breasts. She caressed my breasts and massaged them for a several minutes, then they directed their attention to my nipples. Once again my nipples stood up under the direct stimulation. My body started to squirm and writhe in anticipation of further massaging and caressing.

Jasmine bent over and placed her soft lips upon mine. She slowly kissed me, being ever so gentle and feminine in her touch. She placed several very tender kisses upon my lips, then turned her attention to first my chin, and then my nose. She lowered her crotch onto mine and gently swayed her hips and penis over my crotch. While swaying her hips over mine, she leaned to the side and kissed my ear. She nibbled my earlobe then slipped her tongue into my ear. I squirmed and pulled away, but she merely giggled softly.

She continued to press her penis and hips against me as she moved her attention to my other ear. Again and again I received her warm, wet tongue in my ear. It raised goose bumps all over my arms and neck. This time I leaned into her and let her nibble and lick my ear. My pussy was getting wetter and hotter, and Jasmine continued to push her penis and hips against me. I began returning the pressure, pushing my hips up against hers.

Jasmine had come prepared, a condom was already stretched over her tiny penis. She raised her hips and without any guidance, was able to slip her penis into my inviting pussy. At first I was disappointed; she was so small. I wanted a large penis that would stretch me to my limit. I wanted to be filled and pummeled and taken to the absolute limit of my physical abilities. But then Jasmine began gently pumping her penis into me. Somehow she had discovered, either by luck or study, how to directly stimulate my clitoris. Jasmine felt wonderful. "Harder," I said as I closed my eyes. She began to slowly increase her pressure and her speed. Her decision to slowly ramp up was the perfect decision. She began to suck me into her world of passion, as I began to feel the joy spreading throughout my entire body. I even curled and tightened my toes as I reached to feel my entire body and stretch my consciousness.

Jasmine slowly, deliberately and erotically brought me to the best climax of my life. I still don’t understand how she actually accomplished it, but there was no doubt. I spasmed in sensual delight. My pussy tried to pull Jasmine into my own little universe. The epicenter of a colossal quake was located right between her cock and my pussy. I felt like I had lost control of my body. I could only experience the sensations, I couldn’t control them, but that was just fine. I loved the experience and let it flow through and control me. It was pure bliss.

Jasmine locked her penis into me and froze as she experienced her own orgasm. Her hips didn’t get the message, as they involuntarily continued thrusting. We clenched for what seemed a minor eternity as we both lost control. Slowly, we regained our bodies, and were once again able to move under our own control. Jasmine dropped her entire weight onto me as she relaxed and tried to catch her breath. We gently embraced and laid as one for several minutes as we both tried to regain our composure.

Eventually, Jasmine gave me a gentle kiss and rolled off me to lay on her back and stare at the ceiling. "That was wonderful," she said.

"I agree."

On Sunday morning Jasmine, as usual, was up and about long before me. We had breakfast and lounged around the apartment for most of the morning. In the afternoon we dressed and went window shopping at the local mall. We returned for an early dinner and then again settled back into our easy chairs to read and watch TV. About nine that evening I told Jasmine to take a shower and wash her hair. "I’ll set your hair for tomorrow. You get to wear curlers in your hair tonight while you’re sleeping."

"Are you going to make my hair curly?" she asked warily.

"Not at all. I’m going to use relatively large rollers and give your hair more body. When you brush it out in the morning, your hair will have more body and bounce. It will look more finished."

"But it won’t really make any difference, will it? I mean I’m going to wear my hair pulled back in a ponytail, right?"

"No, you’re going to wear your hair down and in your new style. It looks much prettier and feminine."

"Karen, I already look too feminine. You’re just going to make my life more difficult. The girls will be all over me. Please, I’m getting tired of it. I need a break."

"Jasmine, I guess it’s time to tell you something. I have some good news and some bad news." I looked at her waiting to see if she had a preference.

"And …?"

Bad news first. "Remember Friday when I sent you to the court house to deliver those papers?"

"Yeah."

"I sent you away because Lisa was coming to fire you. I wanted to give you a chance to prepare your self, so I sent you out. Tomorrow morning first thing she is going to return to your cubicle and fire you."

"What …?"

"I’m sorry, Jasmine. I’m really, really sorry. Tomorrow morning you will be fired."

"How do you know?"

"Because I’m the human resource department’s first contact in the law department. I handle the routine documents, and pass the more important documents up the line. Last Wednesday I received the documents preparing to terminate you. I sent them to my boss John Taylor. On Friday, just before lunch, HR sent back the confirmation papers to me, and I gave them to Taylor. So before Lisa could get to you, I sent you out of the office. But tomorrow morning, at 8:00 A.M. she will be back and she will serve you with the termination papers."

"So you waited until now to tell me? Why?"

"Actually, I wasn’t going to tell you until tomorrow morning."

"Why not?" she demanded. She was becoming irate.

"Because there is nothing that you can do about it. So why should you have ruined your weekend over this? You would have been a wreck all weekend. You never would have been able to enjoy your day at the salon or the party. It wasn’t worth throwing away those enjoyments."

"In your opinion. This is my friggin’ life! If you had told me I wouldn’t have went to the hair salon! I would have changed back to my old look and I would have tried to keep my job! You had no right to do this to me!"

"Jasmine," I spoke softly and slowly, "there really was nothing you could do about this. They’ve been collecting complaints and writing reports for weeks. Yes, I pushed the whole situation along faster when I asked you to start wearing female clothes to work, but I assure you it was going to happen anyway. From day one the girls were on your case. They were convinced you were gay and they were already working towards a really negative situation. Until I came along, they wouldn’t even talk with you. It was going to happen, I just got it over sooner." I gave her my best ‘I’m sorry’ body language.

"Karen," she tried to explain, "you haven’t had to go through what I have. My entire life has been a pain. I have nothing. No family, no home and now no job. I have absolutely nothing. What am I going to do? What do I have to look forward to?" The emotion started creeping in, "I’m lost and I have no fucking clue where to go. Jesus, you’ve fucked me up good! I’m on goddamn depression pills already! You might as well buy me a gun, I’ll finish it off! Will that make you happy?" Now she was in screaming mode.

It’s strange the thoughts that go through ones mind at a time like this. I thought, ‘She doesn’t mean depression drugs, she means anti-depressants.’ She was right about many of the things she had said, but not all of them. She had a future and it was the future she really wanted. I just had to convince her.

I walked over to her and gave her a big hug. She grabbed me and started sniffling on my shoulder. I whispered in her ear, "Jasmine, I told you I had good news and bad news. You didn’t let me tell you the good news."

"I can hardly wait. What? My parents were killed in a car accident?"

I resisted the opportunity to say, ‘Yes.’ "Jasmine, it’s the best possible news that you could possibly have. Now you can be Jasmine. All the time, full time. We can leave Jason behind and move on to the next, better phase in your life. You can live full time as Jasmine. You can get a job as Jasmine and live your life as a beautiful, gorgeous, sexy and totally complete woman. It will be great. You’re going to love your new life."

"Oh great. That’ll solve everything. My life is so ruined that I have to run away and hide myself as a girl. Oh yea, that’s really good news." she said sarcastically. "Karen, don’t you get it? Jasmine is a fantasy! She isn’t real. We play at the game of ‘Jasmine’. We don’t live it! It’s a weekend game. That’s totally different."

I grabbed Jasmine by the shoulders and gave her a little, but firm, shake. "Drop the little pity-party," I said loudly. "Quit you’re whining, Jasmine. Stop lying to me and stop lying to your self! This is the best possible thing that could ever happen to you, and if you climb out of your self-pity you’ll see it yourself." I looked her in the eye and gave her my best ‘serious-shit’ glare. I relaxed my voice and tried to talk with a calm reassurance, "Sweetie, let me explain some things to you. First, and by far the most important, you … are … not … alone." Even in a quiet voice, I wanted to enforce those words. "I am here with you and I will not abandon Jasmine. Jason can go and I will be happy to see him leave. Jason is all the baggage that you have accumulated throughout your life. Now we are going to throw it away. Jasmine doesn’t need any of it. She is too good, too happy, and too positive to need any of that crap. Do you hear me?"

She nodded her head just a bit.

"Good. Tomorrow we finish off Jason. We do it with utmost class. Jason wears nice clothes and a pretty hairdo and he smiles. He stands tall and proud as he throws away all the bogus baggage in his life. And on Tuesday, Jasmine’s life begins. She becomes Jasmine full time, 100% of the time. She starts writing her résumé and sending it out. She dresses like a beautiful, cultured woman full time. She walks, talks and lives in a confident and successful manner. Look out world, here comes Jasmine."

She stood still, her shoulders slumped, her eyes red and just looked at me. No smile. No frown. Nothing. She was just numb. She stood like that for almost a minute. Finally she spoke, "I wish I could believe you. I really do, Karen. I love you."

‘Oh, oh’ I thought.

Jasmine continued, "But this is too much. Yea, my life has sucked up ’til know, and lord knows that I want to believe you, but my life doesn’t allow that. I’ve never experienced the positive in anything, but I sure as hell know about the negatives. I have a life’s worth of experience there."

She hugged me again and asked in a desperate whisper, "Karen, can Jasmine really live? Can she really survive in the real world?"

"Absolutely. And I will insist on it. Come on Jasmine, you know it too. You’re beautiful and every guy in the world is in love with you. Even my boss! To say you can pass is an insult to you. You are so far beyond that, that it is totally irrelevant. All you need to do is to believe in Jasmine as much as I do. Once you believe, the world will become your oyster." I squeezed her tighter and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Jasmine, this is your fantasy, everything that you have ever wanted. It’s Cinderella’s time now. Put on the glass slipper and kick the world in the nuts, hard."

She snorted and laughed a little.

"Listen, I want you to go in the bathroom, dump half the bubble bath in the tub and turn on the water. Make it nice and hot. Relax and soak up the warmth. When you’re ready, wash your hair and wrap a towel around it. I’ll set your hair and you’ll be ready for bed. Karen and Jasmine can cuddle together tonight and enjoy our closeness tonight. Tomorrow, Jason walks out with class and welcomes the most beautiful girl in the world. Ok?"

A small nod from Jasmine. I hugged her for another minute then sent her on her way. The end was coming.

 
 
CHAPTER ELEVEN
 
 

Monday morning I got up first. I looked down at Jasmine and smiled. Her head was full of curlers and she looked so beautiful. Her negligee strap had slipped off her shoulder and she looked very innocent, but sexy. I hurried through my morning routine, because I wanted to help Jason get ready for work for his last time ever.

While Jason was cleaning up and brushing his teeth I laid out his clothes for the day. I brought in my very best power suit. I would have loved to send him to work in a skirt, but instead I gave him the pants. On his bed I included the usual bikini panties, corset, camisole, nylons and a nice pair of women’s shoes, conservative of course. Jason returned to his bedroom and quietly dressed. He was in a somber mood and I said little to him.

After dressing, I led him to my vanity and sat him down. I began to unroll the curlers in his hair. One by one I removed all of the rollers and dropped them in my curler bucket. I took my brush and began brushing away all of the soft curls. I brushed his hair straight down from the crown of his head to the nape of his neck. I used the brush to form a slight under curl to the bottom of his hair. It made his neck look long and slim. He looked very pretty, and feminine. I sprayed the hair with just a bit of hairspray to hold it down in the wind. I handed him his usual pair of hoop earrings.

"You’re the most beautiful boy I’ve ever known, Jason. Goodbye." I handed him his purse. "When we get to work, I’ll give you my car keys so that you can leave when you’re done. Don’t forget your wallet and ID. The rest of the day is yours. Go shopping, go walking, go to the mall. Do whatever you want, but don’t come home. Don’t hide your self. Put some makeup in your purse, apply a little lipstick and foundation before you go wandering around. Stay out there in the real world. Promise?"

"I promise."

"Great. Do you have a tampon?"

I drove us to work. After I parked the car I leaned over and handed Jason the keys. "Jason, stand proud and stand tall. Don’t let Lisa goad you into anything. No arguments, no insults, nothing. Smile at her and remember, this is a horrible little hole in the life of Jason and it is now gone. This is your celebration. Ok?"

A reluctant, "Yea."

"Leave your purse here, you don’t want to be forced to carry it around the office. There is a pocket in the suit coat for the car keys. Be brave, sweetie."

For the rest of the morning I stayed in my office and out of sight. I wasn’t much happier than Jason, and I sure as hell felt a lot more guilty.

I left the office at 5:30 and took a taxi home. Jasmine was waiting for me. She had changed into a skirt and blouse. I was happy to see that she hadn’t changed into one of her sweat suits. I could smell dinner cooking and I asked her about it.

"I decided to take your advice. No pouting at home. I don’t have any income and so in essence I’m a kept woman. Sort of like a wife. So I’ve decided to be your wife."

"Jasmine, I’m not looking for a wife."

"I know, I mean it figuratively. I have to contribute some how. I’ll take care of cleaning, and cooking and house keeping until I can find another job. I have to contribute some way, and this was all that I could think of."

"That’s fine," I said. "So what’s for supper?"

After supper we sat down at her computer and worked on her résumé. Her new name was Jasmine Calli Vail, but she still had the same social security number. She had to keep everything legal. If someone cross-referenced the social security number and her name they would know that she was bogus and she wouldn’t get a job. We’d just have to take that chance. For job experience we merely said that she had some intern work straight out of school, but had not been offered a full-time position because of the economy. She listed Tara and me as her references.

"Before you can send this out, you have to call Tara and ask her permission to list her as your reference."

"I know," she said.

"You can call her tomorrow at her work number. And while you have her on the phone, set up an appointment for your-self."

"For an interview? Isn’t that a little presumptuous?"

"It will be for an interview, but there is nothing presumptuous about it. You are going to interview her … or him I should say."

"Why?"

"Because you are going to sue your ex-employer."

"I am?"

"Yes you are. Several weeks ago I asked Tara what types of law she specialized in. She should be able to handle your case, and I believe that she will have special incentives to try extra hard."

"What kind of incentives?"

"First, money. Big money. Tell her you want to sue for four million dollars or more. If she wins she gets a third of that." Jasmine’s eyes opened a little wider and the corners of her mouth started to turn up. "Second, you’re suing for harassment in the workplace, sexual harassment, unlawful termination and everything else that she can add on. Being a transvestite like you, she should have plenty incentive to not only fight for you, but hopefully set some precedents."

Jasmine thought about it for a minute and then asked, "Do you really think we can sue for four million dollars?"

"Jasmine, you won’t get that much money. Not even close, and that’s assuming you even win. But you should hit them with the biggest number that you and Tara can come up with. She might have to do a little research to see what kind of numbers have been thrown in front of the court before. But that’s her job.

"It’s important that you and Tara get moving on this as soon as possible. It’s important that you move while everything is still fresh in your mind. Get all of your thoughts, your concerns, your emotions on paper or video tape now. Tell her how you’re on anti-depressants because of the harassment at work. Make sure that she gets everything that she can from you now. Tell her who knows what, who was involved in different things and most importantly, dates. She needs dates to help with her subpoenas for information and records from the company. Make sure that she gets all of your e-mails and weekly reports to Lisa. Everything."

"Do you think I can win?"

"Anything is possible, but it won’t be easy. They will try and drag the process out so long that you give up, or at the least become demoralized by the process. They’ll harass you with paperwork, and requests for information. They’re going to check out your background and probably watch what you do in private. They’ll threaten to or actually contact friends and family to embarrass you. This is a special case where they will think they have leverage over you because of your lifestyle. It won’t be pretty."

"My parents? Do you think they will really contact my parents? And my brother?"

"I’m not sure, but you should expect it. For a potential million dollars they will do a lot of things."

"But it will be worth it if I can win. I can handle my parents now. Jason never could, but Jasmine will."

"That’s great. I’ve been waiting a long time to hear that Jasmine. But don’t start counting your eggs just yet. You have to start with baby steps. Call Tara and make the appointment. See what she says. She is a real attorney, and I’m just a corporate paper pusher.

"And also tomorrow, I want you to go downtown and sign up for unemployment. That will also be necessary to bolster your lawsuit. Make sure that you dress nicely when you go out tomorrow. I’m not going to set out your clothes for you anymore. You will have to learn to dress yourself. And another thing, I want you to collect all of Jason’s male clothing and donate them to Goodwill."

Jasmine made a big sigh. "This really is the end of Jason, isn’t it?"

"Yep. He was a nice boy, but the prettier and better model is taking over now. Right?"

"I guess so." I gave her a hard questioning look. "I know so," she said firmly.

Tuesday I returned from work, eager to hear how Jasmine’s day had went. The aroma of roast beef met me as I walked in the door. Jasmine greeted me at the door with a big kiss.

"Hi Karen, welcome home. How was your day?" she asked with a smile and a definite bounce in her step.

"Boring and degrading as usual. Did you do everything I told you to do?"

"Mostly. Come on, dinner’s ready. You have to start coming home at a more decent hour. Dinner has been ready for 45 minutes and I refuse to take the blame if you think the roast is too dry."

"I’ve only had a wife one day and I’m already being henpecked," I complained.

Jasmine broke into a big smile. She liked hearing me call her my wife. "You can complain later, first let’s eat," Jasmine said.

She had set an elegant table, complete with a white linen tablecloth and candles. "Where did the tablecloth come from?" I asked.

"I bought it today, while I was out shopping."

"Jasmine, you can’t do that. You have to save your money."

"I have a little money saved, thanks to you. If I want to spend it on the best person in the whole-wide world then I will."

I was amazed at her high spirits. She had been handed a world of troubles and challenges just a day earlier, and here she was bouncing around the kitchen. I wondered how much was due to the Paxil and how much was due to the new Jasmine. I sat at the table and she began placing dinner on the table; roast beef, potatoes, cooked carrots and a salad.

"What would you like to drink?" she asked me.

"Do we have any red wine?"

"We do now," and she brought a bottle from the refrigerator.

It occurred to me that not only did she buy the tablecloth and candles, but she also bought the food. "Jasmine, let’s make some arrangements for buying groceries and odds and ends for the house. You can’t afford this, and I don’t want you spending your money on day-to-day necessities. You’ll need your money for other things, like a retainer for Tara."

"That won’t be necessary, Tara isn’t going to charge me any money up front. She, I mean he, said he would work strictly on contingency."

"Then you called him today? What did he say? Did you make an appointment?"

"Yes I called him. We talked for almost an hour. I’ve got an appointment for Thursday morning."

"What did you talk about for an hour?"

"Mostly about me, Jasmine. Somewhere along in the conversation I told him that I was going to live full-time as Jasmine, and he got totally hyped over that. We talked about what I was going to do, and how I was going to live and everything. It was a great conversation."

"What did he say about your case? Anything?"

"Not really. We discussed it a little, but I think he needs to sit down and go over it in more detail on Thursday. Today we talked mostly about me."

"And did you go down to the unemployment board?"

"Yes," she said disgustedly. "Don’t get me started."

"What?" I wanted to know. "Did you have a problem?"

"No, just the same ole governmental runaround and BS. The only good thing I can say about the company, is that they prepare you well as they kick you out the door. The hour I spent in HR before the security people walked me to my car was well spent. I had every document they asked for. But it’s such a hassle dealing with those people. They treat you like dirt, and they move at a snail’s pace."

"Did they give you any heat because you were Jasmine and not Jason?"

"No, none. They couldn’t have cared less. You’re just a faceless piece of paper to them. I could have been green for all they cared."

"So everything is handled there? You’ll start getting an unemployment check?"

"Yes and maybe. Everything is handled, but who knows when their bureaucracy will actually send out a check."

"Well good. At least that little detail is handled. And what about your résumé? Did you finish it?"

"Yep. But before I do anything with it, I thought I might show it to Tara. She said that she sees lot’s of résuméss, and she will help me punch it up, and also check it over to make sure everything is legal. She even offered to help me change my name. What do you think? Should I change my name?"

"Absolutely. That’s a great idea. Go for it."

The rest of the week went along with no problems. Jasmine started to settle into a routine as the wife of the house. She continued to work on her résumé, and she started going through the local paper and on-line listings for potential employers. The rest of her time she began taking up household chores, cleaning the bathroom and washing clothes.

In the evening she would meet me at the door with a big kiss and the aroma of dinner. Her cooking wasn’t too bad. And I started coming home a little earlier each night. My future at work was limited, and so there was no reason to knock my self out. I’d be fired soon enough.

Jasmine met with Tara and they began planning their lawsuit. After listening to Jasmine’s account of their meeting, I was becoming more comfortable with recommending Tara. She/he sounded very competent and honest. He promised Jasmine nothing but hard work and a sincere effort on his part. But some of the questions and comments he made clearly showed the mind of a talented attorney. I was happy that Jasmine had tied up with Tara.

Friday night was a little different when I arrived home. I didn’t smell any food cooking. Jasmine met me at the door with a big kiss. She was dressed in a pretty white dress that extended all the way to two inches above her knees. It was a clingy knit and either she had lost some weight or she had pulled her corset extra tight, because her figure looked like the proverbial hourglass. She had bright red lipstick and her eyes had heavy mascara and shadow.

"What’s with this?" I asked looking at her beautiful dress and figure.

"You’re taking me to dinner tonight."

"I am?"

"Yes you are. I slaved over a hot stove all week for you and now you’re taking your wife out to dinner to show her how much you appreciate her." She gave me big smile and almost danced in her heels.

"Jasmine," I said seriously, "You are not my wife. Please, I don’t want you to start thinking that way. You’re not my wife and I’m not your husband. Ok?"

My comments didn’t dampen her spirits at all. "I know, I know. But I still slaved over a hot stove all week and you owe me."

"I think I repaid you when I sent in the rent check, the utility checks and gave you a hundred dollars cash for food."

"I know. I really, really appreciate everything that you have done for me. I’d never be the woman I am today if it wasn’t for you. Shall we go?"

"Jasmine, we don’t have that much money between us. And who knows how much longer I’ll have a job? We can’t make it a habit of going out to dinner every Friday or Saturday night."

Her happy feet slowed and she calmed down. "What do you mean ‘who knows how much longer you’ll have a job?’ "

"Nothing, just a bad day at the office."

"You’re not paying for dinner tonight. Tara is. She left work early so she could get ready for us. We’re going to meet her at the restaurant. Ok?"

"Why does she want to buy us dinner? What did she say at your meeting yesterday?"

"She wants to buy us dinner because this is the best lawsuit she has ever had. She really wants to set a precedent and she is going to work very, very hard. She just wants to say thank you for the opportunity."

"Why didn’t you tell me this last night?"

"You didn’t ask. Can we go now?"

We met Tara at a nice restaurant near her home. It wasn’t too expensive, but it had nice food. "This is one of the few restaurants where I feel comfortable as Tara," she explained.

"Why?’" asked Jasmine. "You’re very pretty and utterly passable. You shouldn’t have any trouble no matter where you go."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence Jasmine, but that’s not totally true. I’m not nearly as pretty or feminine as you. You have a beautiful face, cute nose — very feminine I must say — and small features such as neck, shoulders, wrists, hands. You have no problem passing because of all of those things. I on the other hand still have a beard and I am ‘man-sized’. I don’t pass nearly as well as you think. You see Tara through rose-colored glasses and I adore that in you, but the rest of the world doesn’t see me that way. So I have to be a little more careful than you."

"I also think you look wonderful," I added.

"You’re both too kind." The waiter arrived with a glass of wine for each of us. Tara raised her glass and offered a toast, "To success," she announced.

We all toasted. "So what do you think Jasmine’s chances are?" I asked.

"It’s always hard to tell in these things. Probably 50/50 right now. But you never know until you’ve had a chance to subpoena some records and things and take a look at them. We might find some useful information that we can use against them."

"Like what?" I asked again.

"You just never know. We have to show that there was a deliberate attempt by some people to establish a hostile working atmosphere. Then we need to show that the company knew, but did nothing. Plus, we are going to have to battle the part that Jasmine willingly dressed in inappropriate clothing and that it was therefore all her fault. It was her choice to do this. We have to fight the sexual stereotypes of clothing, and argue that clothing is no excuse for a hostile work environment.

"Then they will try and complicate the matter by arguing that her job performance was sub par, and this was brought about by her own decisions — especially concerning her manner of dress. We have to show that if there were any performance changes, they were due to the hostile atmosphere and lack of cooperation by other employees. A lot of this depends on how they try and defend themselves.

"There are just so many unknowns, that we can’t really plan much at this time. There are going to be a lot of he said, she said issues. It will eventually come down to which side is more credible, unless of course hard evidence in the form of memos or e-mails shows up. But what I do know is that this is exactly the type of case I have been waiting for. I’m going to give it absolutely everything I’ve got."

I had a few files that I wanted Tara to subpoena, but I would wait until after the first set of files and evidence was collected and reviewed.

"Tara, what kind of timetable are you looking at?"

"Realistically, we won’t be filing anything until after the first of the year. Then I would say six to twelve months before we go to depositions and maybe another three to four months after that before the trial even starts. It will take well over a year, I’m afraid."

"A year or more?" Jasmine asked disconsolately.

"Sorry, Jasmine. These things usually drag on a long time. One of their most potent allies is time. If they can drag it out long enough, they hope they can wear you down. They hope the attorney fees cause you to start second guessing your-self. They hope you just get tired."

"What do you think about early settlement?" I asked.

"Not a chance unless we have the slam dunk and they know we have it."

I looked at Jasmine, "It looks like were in this for the long haul, sweetie."

"I guess, so."

We had a lovely evening with Tara. The dinner was excellent and afterwards we went to a nice nightclub nearby. It was a short night and we were home by eleven o’clock. Jasmine had been home alone most of the week and she was interested in some human contact. So we indulged in some intimate human contact for the better part of an hour. It was probably some of the slowest and most intimate lovemaking I have ever enjoyed.

As we cuddled afterwards, we enjoyed some pillow talk. We began talking about our futures and about Jasmine’s upcoming trial. After a while, Jasmine abruptly changed the topic. "Karen, what should I do about Charles. In a week or so, he’s going to call for a date. What do I tell him?"

"That’s easy, Jasmine. What do you want to tell him?"

"I’m not sure. In a way, I’m totally flattered. He thinks I’m a girl and he wants to take me out. But he’s a guy. I’m not interested in guys. And besides, now he’s the enemy."

"It’s still an easy decision Jasmine. Do what makes Jasmine happy. You say that you aren’t interested in men, but I have a feeling there is some curiosity in you. Am I right?"

"Yea. I am interested in being treated like a real girl. The other thing is, I was never any good with girls. I couldn’t make small talk, and I couldn’t interest them in me. I’d kind of like to see first hand how a real man does it."

"That’s fine Jasmine, but in a way you already know a little bit about that. I mean, how did he talk you into even considering going out with him?"

"That’s true. I guess the answer is that he was honest with me. It was like he understood me and knew what my concerns and anxieties were. And that is what he talked about."

"There you go. But you can still go out with him. There is more to learn in that area, and there’s some other things I think you want to see, aren’t there?"

"Karen, you know me so well. Did you study psychiatry?"

"I’ll tell you the truth. No, I have no experience in this area, and no, I don’t know how I understand you so well. Maybe all this has been an epiphany for me also. I’ll be honest, I was never an empathic person. Some things have happened that I cannot explain. They just sort of happened. I mean, some things happened for the wrong reason and turned out right even though the motives were wrong. This has really been weird."

"What are you talking about?" she asked.

"Nothing. At least not yet. I still have a lot to see through and I have no idea how you or I got here where we are. Totally weird. But back to the subject. You’re interested in seeing how he treats you aren’t you? And you want to see how it feels to be treated like a woman. Am I right?"

"Damn, you say you don’t have a clue, but you do know what I’m thinking."

"Call it beginners luck. Jasmine, go for it. Say yes and have a wonderful time. Don’t worry about who’s the enemy. In some ways he is totally oblivious to all of this." And in many ways this is all his fault, I thought to myself. He’s the boss and he’s ultimately responsible for his department. The buck stops at the top and he is the top.

I had thought about this almost as much as Jasmine. It just so happened that she was the first one to bring it up. It was a good idea for Jasmine the girl to go on the date. And I could see some potential benefits for both of us from this date.

"Do you think he will figure out who I am?"

"Not a chance," I said. I was totally convinced of this. He had no idea who Jasmine was. Jasmine’s mailing address was a post office box. They had her former address at her parents and that was all. Nobody would be able to connect my roommate with Jason. They’d have to send out a private dick, and that wouldn’t happen–if at all–until the lawsuit was filed. There was just absolutely no reason to connect us. "You’ll be fine Jasmine. Go out and take advantage of his wallet. Make him pay for you. There is still one thing that I haven’t been able to help you learn. Maybe he can do it."

"What are you talking about?" she asked suspiciously.

"You’ve never learned how to be high-maintenance. Take him to the cleaners. Order the most expensive items on the menu. Make him bend over backwards to prove he is a gentlemen and that he knows how to treat a woman like a woman. I’ll tell you Jasmine, you’re never going to learn that from me," and I laughed in the darkness.

"That’s for sure," she concurred.

Saturday night we went out on the cheap. We had dinner at home and then went out to a nightclub. Jasmine had her choice of clubs and she chose Glitter. And as luck would have it, we met Tara. Sunday was routine as were the next few weeks. Jasmine played the wife and I played the bread-winner. During the day she dressed nicely, went out on her errands, worked on her résumés, mailed out hundreds of them, and then welcomed me home at night.

I had warned her that there was almost no chance of finding a job before the end of the year. Most companies were low on budget, many people were gearing up for Christmas and vacation, and people just were not going to spend time thinking about hiring. It wasn’t what she wanted to hear, but she did understand. Plus it bought more time without raising her anxiety level.

On Wednesday, Jasmine got a late evening call from Canada. Charles’ was coming home on Friday, the day before Christmas. He had spent two weeks skiing and he just couldn’t get a certain beautiful woman out of his mind. He asked Jasmine for a date the following week. He wanted to take her out on New Year’s E ve. I heard her answer as she giggled ever so slightly and said yes. As soon as she hung up the phone she asked me, "Can I spend some money next week?"

Before she could continue I said, "I know what you want. Go ahead. Make an appointment tomorrow. What are you going to do?"

"I’d like to get a permanent, a manicure and wax my legs. Is that asking too much?"

"Not for a hot date," I answered

She bounced over to my chair and jumped in my lap. She hugged me around the neck and kissed me. "I want you to know that I love you more than any thing in the world. Even hot sex. So don’t get jealous. I just want him to spend a thousand dollars on me, worship the very dirt I walk on, treat me like a princess and then I want to come home and drive you to multi-orgasmic heaven. At least that’s my plan. Is that ok with you?"

I laughed and responded, "That should be ok. I could do a lot worse." We kissed for a few more minutes and then I said, "I don’t want you to get the wrong idea, it’s not that I’m a voyeur or anything, but I want you to take my camera and take lot’s of pictures. I want to take a picture of the two of you when you leave. And during your date, I want you to ask every person that walks by to take your camera and take a picture of the two of you enjoying your evening. Is that asking too much?" I repeated the phrase she had used.

"I’ll try. I promise."

The next weekend was Christmas. I was supposed to go home to my mom’s in Cincinnati and I asked Jasmine if she would go back with me. Jasmine had no desire to see her parents, so she agreed. We drove over on Wednesday night and returned on Sunday. During the days I showed Jasmine around Cincinnati and we went shopping the rest of the time. Friday night was Christmas Eve, and we opened presents at mom’s. Mom cooked a big dinner on Christmas day, and the three of us spent the day in the kitchen. Saturday night I took Jasmine to a local club and we picked up a couple of guys. I wanted Jasmine to get more experience dealing with men. It was a low key vacation and the best part was each night my girlfriend and I shared the double bed in my old bedroom.

On the following Friday, Jasmine went to Gina. Gina performed another miracle as she turned Jasmine into an absolute princess. She permed Jasmine’s hair, and gave her the exact same style that she had had the night she first met Charles. Only this time the style was permanent. God, Jasmine looked sexy! She had her brows waxed into a soft curve, her legs waxed and she got a manicure. When she came home later in the afternoon, she looked gorgeous and she didn’t even have her full makeup on. She was going to drive the boys crazy.

For the evening we chose a super-hot, ‘little black dress’. It had long lacy sleeves, a low cut V-neck, a wrap around waist that could be pulled tight to show off her tightly corseted waist, and it ended almost three inches above her knees. She wore black pantyhose with a full back seam and four-inch black heels. She added a single strand pearl necklace and two-inch drop earrings. She decided to wear her new fake glasses.

She had worn them when Mr. Pearson had first met her, and she had even started wearing them out to the clubs once in a while. It gave her a ‘new’ look and she thought she was sexy with them.

She over did the makeup, going with dark lavender eye shadow, heavily lined eyes and fake eyelashes. She used a darker than usual blush to give her cheeks a strong, sculptured look. And on top of it all, she outlined her lips and colored them in with a bright red lipstick. She looked hot enough to screw. I spritzed her with perfume and then sent her into the kitchen for a quick sip of wine to help calm her nerves.

"Do you have a tampon in your purse?" I yelled into the kitchen.

"Yea, yea ,yea," she yelled back. She was ready.

The door bell rang, and Jasmine froze like a deer in the headlights. Her eyes got big and she almost dropped her wine glass. I waved her back into the kitchen and out of sight, then I answered the door. "Hi Mr. Pearson. Jasmine is almost ready, let me get her."

I walked into the kitchen, and whispered in Jasmine’s ear, "This is it, sweetie. Relax and remember, you are beautiful. Have a nice time and make him spend all of his money." She giggled and walked out to meet her date. I walked behind her and I watched Mr. Pearson’s face as he saw Jasmine. He obviously was not disappointed. A huge smile spread across his face and he exclaimed, "Jasmine, you look more beautiful than I remembered. I love your dress."

"Thanks," she squeaked out.

"Ok folks, before you leave I want a picture of the two of you together. Jasmine go stand next to Mr. Pearson." I picked up my digital camera and took a picture of the two of them. "Smile," and the flash went off. I checked the picture and it looked good. "Mr. Pearson, put your arm around Jasmine. Jasmine, squeeze in a little tighter." I took a second picture and checked it.

"One more picture guys. I want to get you two off on the right foot and the easiest way to break the ice is for you to kiss. Jasmine, give Mr. Pearson a kiss." She gave me a nasty glance, and Mr. Pearson grinned. Jasmine placed her hands on his upper arms and he placed his hands on her hips. They leaned into each other and kissed. Flash! I gave Jasmine the camera and sent them on their way.

So there I was. I was sitting at home alone on New Year’s Eve. I was spending too much of my personal time taking care of Jasmine. I hadn’t been on a real date with a real man since Mikey. That was three or more months ago. ‘Screw it,’ I thought. Quit feeling sorry for yourself and get out of here.

I plugged in my hot curlers and took a quick shower while wearing a shower cap to keep my hair dry. After the shower I wrapped a towel around myself and took out my hot curlers and set my hair. I put on some lacy underwear and sat down in front of my vanity to apply my makeup. I took a hint from Jasmine and went for the dramatic look. I applied heavy eye makeup, and a luscious and creamy ‘almost red’ lipstick. I covered it with a rich gloss to give my lips a very wet and shiny look.

I went through Jasmine’s closet and found a hot dress that was too short for me. It was a dress that Jasmine couldn’t wear in public, because its low neckline required real cleavage. My push-up Wonderbra did the trick. I looked like a teenybopper in the short dress. It must have made me look five or seven years younger. I was definitely going to get carded tonight. I decided to go ‘full tramp’ and I put on a pair of Jasmine’s four-inch heels. I walked around in the heels for a few minutes and then came to my senses. I went back to the closet and switched to three-inch heels. I returned to my vanity and removed my curlers. I brushed out my hair, sprayed it and picked out the coat that I wanted to wear.

Then I had to decide where to go. I decided to head to the nightclub where Jasmine and I had met Leonard and Kenny. The evening was a bust. There were only a couple of single men there and they were not the keeping type. New Year’s Eve wasn’t the night to go trolling for men. All the good-looking ones had a date. I left before eleven. and went to Glitter.

I wasn’t at Glitter more than ten minutes before I met Tara. After saying hi, her first question was, "Where is Jasmine?"

"She has a date," I told her.

"A date? What do you mean? I thought you were a couple?"

"Not exactly. At least not as you think," I answered.

" I don’t understand," Tara said exasperatedly.

"Neither do I," I confessed. "I need a drink. What are you drinking?"

"I’m drinking that most Christmas drink of all time, tequila."

"Excellent. Me too."

I ordered a tequila sunrise, and we sat at the bar and continued to yell over the music. "So who is Jasmine’s date? Male or female?" Tara wanted to know.

"Oh Tara," I laughed. "This is so rich. She is on a date with a man. But you’ll have kittens when I tell you who."

"What kind of kittens?"

"Big ones. The size of cougars and pumas. She is on a date with Mr. Charles Pearson."

"Who?"

"The man whom you’re going to sue. The man that you will face in court."

"Say what?"

"What."

"Don’t be a smartass. This is business. Who is she out with?"

"Charles Pearson. The law director at Jasmine’s old company. When you go to court, he is the one you are going to face."

I was soon to find out that Tara swore a lot. "Jesus Christ, what the fuck are you talking about?" I shrugged my shoulders and smiled. "Are you friggin’ serious?"

"Yes ma’am," I smiled. "It’s a rather interesting story. I’ll have to tell you some time."

"Fuck’n yes you will. How about right now?"

"Not yet. Later."

Tara was concerned about her case. "Is she screwing up this case?"

"No, but Tara you have no idea how out of control this whole thing is. Shit has happened that nobody will ever figure out. If there really is a God, she must have a great sense of humor. Or else she’s a sadist. I’m not sure which."

"Karen, I have a gut feeling that there is a hell of a lot more going on behind the scenes than I know. Will you tell me what the fuck is really happening?"

"Trust me Tara, there isn’t much more to this than you already know. I have to tell you that I am also you’re adversary. I am the first contact for HR at the company."

"What?" she screamed. "When the fuck were you going to tell me that?" Like I said, Tara swore a lot.

"Eventually." I said. "Listen, I know enough to blow this whole case off the map. If you can’t win with the information that I will eventually give you, you’re incompetent."

"What are you talking about?" Tara was getting very interested. Her eyebrows were raised and her eyes were piercing. Even in full girl mode, her attorney sense was turned on full.

"I can’t tell you now. We have to play this semi-honestly. Start the suit, place your first round of subpoenas. Then at least I’m semi-covered when you go in for your second round. At that time I’ll tell you what to ask for. I have enough shit to pretty much cover Jasmine. But please, and I mean this, don’t ask for anything from me the first go-around. I promise, I’ll make it worth your time the second round."

"Is this some kind of set-up?"

"I promise, it’s not. Eventually I’ll try and explain." I looked at my drink, I looked at the ceiling, I chugged my drink and then I looked at Tara. "Tara, I don’t know how the hell we ended up where we are. I’m as mixed up as you are. And I was there."

She gave me a disgusted look and ordered two more drinks. We said nothing as the bartender, or the ‘tarbender’ as she addressed him, brought us our tequila. "Karen, what’s the bottom line on this shit? Come on, be honest with me."

"Tara, I’m not sure. Honestly, this whole thing got out of control. I never meant any of it." I took a sip of my drink. "No, at least I can be honest tonight. Some of it was meant. But damn, I’m not sure which parts. It kind of happened." I blinked a couple of tears away. "Tara, it got out of hand, then it got under control, then stuff happened, then the world came to an end and I ran out of booze. You know what I mean?"

"Karen, you’re insane. Come on. What’s the bottom line?"

"Oh, I don’t know." And I really didn’t. This was the first time that I really had to verbalize what had happened. What I had been involved in. "You said before that our chances are 50/50? I think they may be better than that. Maybe 51/49."

Tara just looked at me and slowly started to smile. We remained quiet for a few minutes as we sipped our drinks and listened to the music. We watched the couples out on the dance floor. It was New Years Eve. The girls were dancing with the girls and the boys were dancing with the boys. Eventually Tara turned to me and said, "Karen, did you know that I always used to fantasize about you?"

I was a bit taken aback, but the tequila was doing its job. I remained impassive. "What do you mean?"

"I was in love with you. I came here for months and months, and this place ignored me. The girls wanted nothing to do with any man, especially a TV, and the guys wanted nothing to do with me either. The boys were all looking for cute guys, not cute girls. Transvestites are the smallest minority in the world. Not even the Democrats can relate … no that’s not the right word. They can tolerate or forgive a homosexual. They can handle queers and lesbians, but no one can relate to or forgive a transsexual or transvestite. We are the ultimate lepers. If ever there were an outcast it’s us. As tolerant as the boy and girl gays are, even they pity the TVs. We are the lowest sexual fetish on this planet.

"I’m sorry, I digress a bit. I was in love with you. No one in this place would talk to me. Jesus, you have no idea how lonely I was. I was convinced that I was a friggin’ freak. Or worse. Then I saw you one night. You were beautiful, Karen. Believe me when I say, there is such a thing as love at first sight. I was in love with you. You walked in with Gloria. You sat right here at the bar and you ordered a beer. Trust me, I’ll never forget. You ordered a beer. A Miller. I sat over there and just stared at you. Goddamn you were beautiful. You were wearing jeans and a stupid flannel shirt. I thought that you had no friggin’ fashion sense. But I still thought you were gorgeous. Beautiful. Feminine. Sexy.

"You totally awed me. I was overwhelmed. I sat in my chair for almost half an hour trying to get up enough nerve to come talk with you. Finally, after another two or three tequilas I came over and sat down right here, next to you and said hi. Do you know what you said?"

"I haven’t got a clue Tara."

"You said ‘Hi’ right back to me. Then you said, ‘What’s your name?’ I was ecstatic. You had actually spoken to me."

"Tara, I have to admit, I had been here several times with Gloria. I only came here because we lived across the street. They have great burgers early in the evening."

"I know."

"Anyway, I am not gay and so I was never interested in any of the girls here. And of course none of the guys were interested in me. I would be occasionally approached by a CD or TV and quite frankly they all looked hideous. So other than the burgers, there was nothing here that I was interested in. But I kind of remember the first couple of talks that we had. You were the only TV that looked and acted like a real woman. In a way I found that fascinating. So you were the only person here that I enjoyed talking with."

"Thanks. And I found you absolutely ravishing. As I said, I fantasized about you. So Karen, can I ask you an impolitic question?"

"It’s New Years Eve Tara, and we’ve known each other for a long time. Have a go."

"What’s the relationship between you and Jasmine? I mean Jasmine is beautiful, much more so than me, but why didn’t you ever have any interest in me? I really need to know. Not just because I loved you, but because of how it relates to me as a girl in the real world."

I’m sure I blushed. She said she loved me. Only two people had ever said they loved me, and both of them were guys dressing as girls. What was wrong with me? "Tara, I can’t explain it you. Not because I don’t want to, but because I don’t totally understand it myself. I’ve never been attracted to TVs or CDs. But that is where life has led me. You are beautiful Tara. And so is Jasmine. But I’ve always wanted a totally heterosexual relationship.

"But here I am, involved with beautiful men. This is difficult to explain. I really like Jasmine, but I don’t envision us ever having a lasting relationship. I just sort of fell into this. It’s almost as if I feel responsible for her, and so I have to take care of her. And here is the wild part Tara, because I’ve had her I’m more open to ... shall I say other options?"

Tara smiled and reached over to touch me on the arm. "Maybe …?"

"Tara, I need to go to the little girl’s room, would you join me?"

"Oh shit! Jasmine told me about you two. Christ yes, I’ll join you."

I took Tara’s hand and the two of us walked to the bathroom. As usual it was full. We stood towards the back, waiting for the handicap stall to open. A girl probably too young to be drinking here finally walked out and we quickly walked in. We both set our purses on the sink. Tara faced me and waited for me to make the first move. I reached under her dress and pulled her panties down to her ankles. I whispered in her ear, "Tara, are you a big girl?"

"I think I can please you," she smiled.

I pulled my panties down and stepped out of them. I threw them on top of my purse. "Sit down and hold your dress up," I whispered. She sat down and lifted up her dress. Her penis was pointing up and to the left. It was much bigger than Jasmine’s but not as big as Mikey’s. "Looks nice," I whispered. I grabbed my purse and pulled a condom out of the bottom. Tara just sat on the stool and smiled the biggest smirk I have ever seen. I unwrapped the condom and slid it over her cock as she held up her dress. "Dear, I’ve changed my mind. Maybe we should leave," I said with a grin.

"Karen, if you leave I’ll hunt you down and kill you," she laughed.

I straddled Tara and sat down on her lap. I took her cock in my hand and I gave it a few strokes. She grabbed my hand and stopped me. She leaned forward to whisper in my ear, "Karen, I’m going to cum as soon as you mount me. If you stroke me one more time I’m going to be limp. Let’s get to the chase."

I gave her a light kiss on the lips. "Bitch!" I said, and I sat on her cock. She was right. I clenched my vaginal muscles only once or twice and I could feel her cum. That wasn’t going to be good enough for me. I ignored her problem and started squirming around with her cock inside me. It felt much better than Jasmine’s. Much harder and much fuller. I began to move up and down and quickly realized that Tara wasn’t going to help me. She had already cum and even though she was going to try, it was up to me to reach orgasm. I used my legs to stand up and then sit down on her cock. Over and over I went through the motions, enjoying the feeling of a large cock inside me. It took several minutes but I finally reached my goal.

I eventually collected myself and gave Tara a careful kiss on the lips. "I’m sorry," she apologized. "I feel like a schmuck. I wish I could have another chance."

"Maybe another time, Tara. If it makes you feel any better, you’re much bigger than Jasmine." I paused for a second and then I whispered. "Oh yea, size does matter," and I grinned.

We cleaned up and returned to the bar. We talked about nothing for about another half hour and then I decided that I needed to return home. "Thanks, Tara. I enjoyed the evening." And I then I thought about our little adventure. "Tara, I do want to get together again. Ok?"

"I can’t wait," she said. I gave her a messy kiss and went home.

I reached home about half past one. and Jasmine was not there. I cleaned up and sat around until two thirty. Jasmine still didn’t return home so I got pissed and went to bed in my own room. I guess maybe I was a bit jealous. Fuck it! I hadn’t had a date with a real man in over months and Jasmine the transvestite was out with a real catch. I think I had cause to be pissed!

I never heard a sound until Saturday morning. I heard some pots and pans clanking in the kitchen. I looked at my alarm and it said 11:15. "Good mornin’ sleepy head," Jasmine said as I wandered into the kitchen. "Want some coffee?"

"Oh yea." I answered. "How was your date last night?" Jasmine handed me a mug.

"Great. It was a lot of fun." She picked up her own mug and sat down across from me. "First we had dinner at a real swanky restaurant. I didn’t even get carded. I guess there are some benefits in going out with someone as old as your father. And I took your advice, I ordered the most expensive item on the menu; lobster at market price. Charles ordered a bottle of wine for us, some real expensive white wine. I’m not sure what the name was, but it was pretty good. Oh, and wait a minute, I have something for you." She stood up and ran back to her bedroom.

When she returned she gave me a picture. It was the two of them sitting together in a booth with dinner in front of them. "They had a traveling photographer and I asked if we could have our picture taken. So there you are. It’s a pretty good picture I think."

It was a good picture. It had obviously been shot by a professional. "So then what did you do?"

"We went gambling. He took me to a casino with slot machines and crap tables and roulette and the whole ball of wax. He showed me how to play craps. I think we even came out ahead. Then we played blackjack for a while. Did you know that when you’re gambling they bring you free drinks?"

I chuckled, "Yea, I knew that."

"Well I didn’t. It was real classy. Then at eleven thirty we went to a show right there at the casino. They had a master of ceremonies and he told a few jokes and introduced several acts. At midnight they counted down and everyone kissed."

"You too?"

"Well I had to."

"Was he a good kisser?"

"He was alright for a fifty-year-old man. I would much rather have been kissing you." She fluttered her eyelashes and blew me an air kiss. The show lasted until two thirty. They had a magician, a comic, dancing girls and a couple of singers. It was pretty neat."

"So you had a good time?"

"Yep."

"Did you give him a goodnight kiss when he brought you home?"

"Yes, I thought I should. Was that ok?"

"As long as you didn’t slip him your tongue or grab his crotch." She gave me a dirty look and stuck her tongue out like she was going to gag. "And did he ask you out again?"

"Yea, he did."

"What did you say?"

"Well, I was stuck. I wasn’t sure and I stalled for a minute, then he said, ‘Did you have a good time?’ and I said yes and he said, ‘Good, let’s do it again, then. I’ll call you next week.’ And that was about that."

"Jasmine, you can’t go out with him again. Don’t forget whom you’re dealing with here. He is your adversary in a law suit."

"Well, I can collect more evidence against him, though."

"What are you talking about?"

"Pictures. That’s what you want the pictures for isn’t? You’re going to use them for blackmail, aren’t you."

"No!" I shouted. "That’s illegal and I have no intention of blackmailing the man."

Jasmine was stunned. "But … then what did you want the pictures for? You insisted that I collect lot’s of pictures on our date. I just understood that you had a purpose for wanting them."

"I do have a reason, but we are not going to blackmail anyone. And you can’t continue to lead him on. It’s very dangerous and could backfire."

"What do you mean?"

"The reason I didn’t mind you going out with him, is because if things get really nasty later on, and they could, the pictures might prove embarrassing to him. They were meant to be used as a little protection for both of us. I thought they might prevent him from going after you in a vicious manner. But if you drag this along and play him for a chump, then he might get so mad that he’ll want to get even. It might make him even more vicious. It’s a fine line we’re walking."

Jasmine settled back in her chair and sipped her coffee. "I see. You might be right. So what should I do?"

"I’ll have to think about it. My first inclination is to have you say no when he calls you. But later he might think that he was set up from the git-go."

"Was it? Was this part of your plan?"

"Jasmine, there was no plan. How could I have possibly predicted that he would fall for you? I didn’t even know he was divorced."

"Yea, your right."

"But there is another possibility. We could convince him that he’s not interested in you."

"How can we do that? I think he is ga-ga over me."

"We convince him that you’re not the kind of girl he wants. We show him that you’re immature, a party-girl, a drug user. I don’t know. Yes, I do know. I think this will work," as I thought for a moment.

"What? What did you think of?"

"You’re gay. Or maybe bi-sexual. That would be better. On your next date you ask him to take you to a nightclub, Glitter. You can drink and dance all night long and show him that you’re a young party girl and that you like, maybe even prefer, girls. You can ask Tara to meet you there and the two of you can hang together and sort of leave Charles on the outside. Don’t ignore him, that would be stupid, but you can have Tara spend most of the night with the two of you. You and her can dance and drink and talk and act girlish and maybe act a little immature. Giggle a lot. Touch each other and hold each other’s hands and stuff. Nothing over the top, but he’ll get the idea. What do you think?"

"I think that might work. I can still show him that I like him, but he is number two on my list. I’ll give him plenty of reason to wonder if he wants to hang with someone so young."

"There you go. That way he can walk away from you and not spend any more time or money on you. But you know, he is going to find out who you are at the trial. And that could be messy. It might work for us, or it might totally piss him off and he could go crazy. We’ll just have to play that one on the run. It’s too late to do anything about it."

"I just thought of something, what about Tara? What if he recognizes Tara? Then he’ll know for sure that everything was a setup."

"He will never recognize Tara. First, I can’t believe that she looks anything like Tara when she is not crossdressing. Second, it’s dark and very loud at the club."

"But even Tara admits that she doesn’t pass all the time. What if Charles figures out that she’s a TV?"

"It just reinforces you’re overall kinkiness quotient. It doesn’t hurt you at all. And it still doesn’t lead him from Tara the girl to Tara the lawyer. I think you’ll be ok. And there is one other reason for doing this."

"What would that be?"

"We’re so far in on this situation that I just like the irony of him meeting his opposing lawyer and client without even knowing it. Just a bit of irony for the novel I’ll write someday," and I smiled.

 
 
CHAPTER TWELVE
 
 

Charles called on Monday night and asked Jasmine for a date. Jasmine agreed but only if she could take him to her favorite nightclub. He agreed and so the event was set. The next day Jasmine called Tara and asked her if she would be available for the evening. Tara almost had those kittens when she heard Jasmine’s scheme. Tara refused to do it.

Jasmine called me at work and said Tara had refused. "Don’t worry," I said. "Let me talk to her." At lunch I stayed in my office. I closed my door and called Tara on my cell phone. Tara was not happy and thought we were getting in way over our heads. Speaking of heads, I had to make Tara a special romantic promise to get her to agree to our plan. The promise was collectable whenever and wherever she chose. The things that I did for Jasmine!

Saturday came and once again we dressed Jasmine to the nines. I had her wear a very short dress to emphasize her youth. I did her make-up and gave her a glittery club look. I had her wear long blue fake lashes and a bright blue eye shadow. She looked like a crazed twelve year old. I brushed a bit of glitter on her cheeks also. We went with a very bright red lipstick to complete the look. I found the longest, biggest drop earrings that I had and a large necklace with plenty of color. We painted her nails blue. We put her in four-inch heels and gave her a little red clutch purse. The only thing about her that showed her true beauty and taste was her hair. The permanent gave her hair a glorious style that I continued to love.

When Charles came to pick her up I made sure to watch his face when Jasmine made her entrance. She was chewing gum and said very loudly, "Hi Charles. Are you ready for a wild night of partying?" His expression was one of stunned surprise. I had to take another picture of them together, but Jasmine didn’t take the camera with her this time. Her purse was too small. But no problem, Tara took hers.

I would have loved to have been there and watched the show. I had to rely on Jasmine and Tara’s replay later. I don’t think the night could have gone any better. He had her home by one. He only lasted for one song in the drag show and then he announced that he should probably take Jasmine home. The final push may have been when Jasmine gave Charles a dollar and insisted that he give it to the drag queen. As they left, Tara gave Jasmine a full lip-lock kiss while she grabbed a handful of Jasmine’s ass.

When they got back to the apartment, Charles was the perfect gentlemen and walked Jasmine up to the apartment. He said he had a novel time, but didn’t ask about another date. Jasmine said she gave him a nice little kiss, and then rather than say goodnight she said goodbye. Charles also said goodbye and then he walked down the hall to the elevator.

The plan had worked. At least as far as we could tell.

For the next couple of weeks, life went on in dull routine. Jasmine worked on sending out résumés, doing a little shopping and keeping the house clean. She cooked dinner every night and always met me at the door with a welcome home kiss. Work was boring for me. I had lost all interest and was just going through the motions. I knew I would be leaving in the near future. As soon as the first deposition was taken I would have to tender my resignation and hope for the best.

Tara continued preparing for the law-suit. It wasn’t until the last week of January that she filed the suit. She asked for 4.5 million dollars. I was expecting all hell to break out at work, but I never even heard about the suit for over a week. They just played it like a routine case. ‘Nothing important here. Go about your business.’

Things got a bit more interesting in mid-February when Tara subpoenaed her first round of documents and e-mails. True to her word, she didn’t ask for a single thing from me. Mr. Pearson called us into his office one afternoon and announced that he wanted all subpoenaed records sent to him first. He also told the staff it was time for our yearly record cleansing. We were told to shred all unnecessary documents, and that included documents pertaining to office relations. That was code for ‘Get rid of any documents concerning Jason.’ The purge began. However, none of my files were purged. I just made sure that everything had a back up copy, either electronic or paper.

In late February we finally got some good news. Jasmine was called back for a second interview. A small law firm on the north side was looking for a paralegal. They didn’t want to pay much, so an inexperienced person was all they could get. I put Jasmine in one of my best suits, helped her with her hair and makeup and sent her to the interview. She called me at work and announced that they had offered her the job. Jasmine was going to be gainfully employed. She was very excited and wanted to go out to celebrate. I needed something to get me out of my mid-week doldrums so I agreed.

Jasmine remained in her interview suit and still looked very nice when I arrived home. She had freshened her makeup and added a bit more for the evening lights and put on a pair of three-inch heels. We went to a mid-scale restaurant,as we were still counting our nickels. Jasmine was very excited. "This is great!" she said. "I can help pay my way now and I won’t be bored to tears looking for things to do at home. And best of all, I get to dress and go out as a girl all the time now. I can wear pretty clothes and makeup and curl my hair and act femmy and pretty and this is full time now, and I can chat with the girls and flirt with the guys and I can’t believe this is going to happen …"

"Slow down," I laughed. "You’re going to rupture something." I reached across the table and took her hand, "This is wonderful for you Jasmine. You’ve come a long, long way in just a short time. What was it, about six months ago when we first met and less than that when Jasmine started peaking through in public?"

"I can’t believe it was only six months ago. It seems like an eternity. This is just so fantastic. No way in the world could I have envisioned me being able to live and work full time as a girl. And to have such a beautiful and loving mate as you, Karen. I owe you so much … my entire life. Thank you so very, very much."

‘Oh, oh,’ I thought to myself. Did she say mate? I didn’t want to be her mate. I liked Jasmine, I even loved her in a way, but I hadn’t given up all hope of some day snagging me a real man. Tonight wasn’t the night to break her heart, so I played along to a degree. "Don’t go all mushy on me, Jasmine. We’re only roommates. Ok?"

There was just the slightest bit of disappointment in her eyes. "Oh yea. Of course."

I had had my say, now I wanted to get her back in her celebrating mood. "Do you have enough clothes to become a professional female paralegal? Are we going to have to go shopping this weekend?"

"A girl can always use more clothes," she said enthusiastically. "And you know I love to go shopping for clothes and things."

"Yes I know. Let’s do it then."

"What about money? We’re still low on money."

"You have your savings. I think it is time for you to spend some of it. It is an investment after all. You’re going to need nice business clothes. Your closet is mostly party dresses, and if both of us wear my business clothes, we’ll wear them out fast. Yes, we should spend some of your savings."

"All right! A new job and a shopping spree. There is only one more thing that could make this day perfect." She placed her elbow on the table, flipped her wrist down and rested her chin on the back of her wrist. She looked at me and fluttered her eyelashes and pouted her lips. Her message was perfectly clear.

I repeated her exact motions, and the two of us fluttered our eyes at each other for a few moments. Then I leaned across the table and gave her a kiss. "I think I know what you have in mind. Do we need to stop and buy any whips or handcuffs on the way home?"

"That’s an excellent idea. Do you know where to go?"

I laughed and responded, "I’m sorry but I don’t. Maybe that’s something we can add to our list for the weekend shopping spree." We both giggled. Through the rest of dinner I could feel my panty liner getting wetter and wetter.

Towards the end of dinner, the conversation turned to her lawsuit. She asked me what I thought her odds of winning were. "I think they’re pretty good," I told her. "But don’t expect a million dollars. That rarely happens."

"I’d take a million dollars," she said in a dreamy voice.

"What would you do with a million dollars? You don’t have enough closet space for that many clothes," I teased her.

"I’d just have to buy us a bigger house. Do you think a million dollars would buy a house as big a Charles’?"

"I suppose so. Is that what you want? A big house?"

"I could live with that."

"Why not something just for Jasmine?"

She smiled. "Actually, that is what I was thinking about. What would you think if I got a boob job? Would I be a freak if I had breast implants?"

"Not at all. I think you’d look great. And it would eliminate the hassle of gluing on your breast forms all of the time."

"That is getting to be a pain. So really, what do you think if I were to do that?"

"Go for it," I said. "I can’t encourage you enough. It’s not often that anyone gets a break like receiving a nice pot of money. Go ahead and spend it on Jasmine."

"And one other thing. Do you think I would be vain if I got liposuction? I was thinking that if I could have my waist lippoed, I wouldn’t have to wear my corset all of the time. It would be nice to leave it off some times. It would be so much more free feeling."

"That’s a great idea Jasmine. I like your thinking. You’re a beautiful girl, and feminizing your body would make your life so much easier. Plus, you would be so much cuter, if that’s possible, that is. Do it Jasmine. It’s your money, you paid for it. Enjoy it. Lord knows you went through hell to get it."

"Karen, you are so supportive, no wonder I love you." She kept saying words that scared me–like love. "I guess Jason went through a little hell, but Jasmine is so happy that he did it, and that you made him do it. As mad as I was at you at times, I’m really, really happy that you forced me to live up to my potential. Guess what, I’ve been feeling so much better lately that I’m thinking of cutting my medication level in half."

"Great."

"And if that works, then I’m going to try and quit totally."

"That would be wonderful if you could."

"Can we leave now? I want to go home and make wild and passionate love to you."

Jasmine couldn’t wait for us to get home. She wrapped her arm around me as we walked to the car, and she gave me a long wet kiss before we entered the car. She was all over me as we waited for the elevator from the parking deck up to our room, and in the elevator she slide her hand under my skirt and rubbed my pussy. "A little excited are we?" she asked. I knew my panty liner was so wet that it had leaked a bit onto my panties. I grinned and kissed her again.

When we reached the apartment door, she took my purse and key. "I’ll get the door, why don’t you go slip into something more sexy." It looked like Jasmine wanted to take the dominant role, and I liked that idea. I went to my bedroom and stripped out of my clothes, I didn’t even hang them up. I threw them on the bed, slipped a short negligee over my head and went to the bathroom. I smeared some cold cream over my face, brushed my teeth and went looking for Jasmine.

I found her in her bedroom, already changed into a baby doll outfit. "Oh no you don’t," she said as she grabbed my negligee and pulled it over my head. "You’re too hot to be wearing anything tonight. Let me go wash off my makeup and I’ll be right back."

Jasmine quickly returned and embraced me as she slid her tongue into my mouth. "Mmmmmm," she moaned. Her hands wandered down to my cheeks and she sunk her nails into my flesh. She pulled my crotch tightly against hers, and I could feel her erection pressing through her baby doll. She squirmed around to move her penis against me and she continued to hold me tight. "You are the sexiest girl in the whole wide world," she said.

She led me to the bed and had me lie on my back and spread my legs. She crawled between my legs and started kissing the inside of my thighs. She gave me goose bumps up and down each leg. My pussy was soaking wet and she soon began licking up and down my entire pussy. At the top she would flick my clitoris with her tongue and give me an extra tingle of pleasure. Next she would slide her tongue down to the bottom and push it into me as far as she could reach. Then see would repeat the cycle. Her work was beginning to pay off as I was quickly approaching orgasm. I was so horny to start with, that just a few minutes of Jasmine’s tongue and I was squirting juices while my hips heaved as high as they could reach. Jasmine rode me like a bronco and continued licking and stimulating my pussy. I finally had to yell, "Stop," as the intensity of the pleasure became too much to endure.

That didn’t stop Jasmine. She moved up to breasts and began licking and sucking and caressing and pinching my nipples. She started slowly and gently and kept my nipples hard. After I had calmed down from my first orgasm, she slid her hand down to my pussy and inserted two or three fingers into my pussy. I had no idea how many fingers she used, as I was too preoccupied with my breasts and nipples. After filling my pussy and sliding in and out for a few minutes, one of her fingers reached up to my clit and started rubbing and pressing against it. It felt wonderful. My hips started keeping rhythm with her finger and I soon lost all control as another orgasm rushed over my body and took all control away from me. I was literally panting when I fell back to bed.

"Wait a minute," I panted. Jasmine rolled to the side and laid her head on my shoulder. One hand slid under my back and the other cupped my pussy and remained motionless. After a few seconds, her leg slid over my leg. I could feel her pushing her penis against my hip. I reached down and took her penis in my hand. I grabbed it tightly and squeezed as hard as I could. Jasmine moaned and pushed against me. I didn’t stroke her, I just kept squeezing and relaxing her penis. She continued to moan with pleasure.

After catching my breath I rolled over to face her, and she rolled onto her back. I squeezed her penis again, and then bent it down towards her legs. I bent it almost as far as the rigid member could go. I bent it to one side and then the other, pushing it to its limit. Jasmine closed her eyes and softly moaned as I continued to push and bend and squeeze her penis.

Then I slid down to her crotch and took her penis in my mouth. I flicked the shaft of her penis with my tongue as I began sliding my lips up and down. It took only a few seconds and she came in my mouth. I wanted to gag, but I held my composure and took the majority of her cum. I took her with my hand and continued to stroke her wet penis as I slid up to her mouth. I kissed her and squirted all of her cum into her mouth. I surprised her, but she took most of it and swallowed it.

We licked each other’s lips and cleaned up the small amount of cum that we had spilled. "That was different," she said.

"Maybe someday you’ll have to know what it tastes like," I cooed. "You just never know, lovely girl."

"I can’t say that that was very appetizing. I certainly don’t plan on giving head to another man, so I’m hoping I won’t have to recognize that taste again."

"Are you saying that you don’t like your own taste?"

"Not really," she said apologetically.

"But you wouldn’t mind if I did that for you again; gave you head, would you?"

"I did enjoy the feeling, but I could pass on the sharing."

"You have some selfish notions girl. If you ever want me to do that again, we will have to share. I don’t want to keep all of the fun to myself." I grinned and added, "I like to share with my girlfriends." I crawled up and straddled her face, "Let me give you something much more tasty," and I lowered myself so that Jasmine could begin licking my pussy again.

It turned out to be an awkward position for me, and we didn’t last long that way. I dismounted her and lay on my back with my legs spread, inviting her to return to her previous position between my legs. Jasmine understood the invitation and we started all over again. She again brought me to a couple of lingering and stimulating orgasms and I was again totally out of breath.

After I recovered, I unrolled a condom and slipped it over Jasmine’s penis. I rose up on my hands and knees and offered my pussy to her doggy style. "We are trying new things tonight, aren’t we?" she said as she mounted me from behind. She began thrusting into my pussy, and I began pushing back. I could hear the rhythmic slapping of her scrotum against her legs as she pumped her penis in and out of me. I wondered if the slapping was hurting her, but she continued thrusting herself into my pussy, so I stopped worrying and enjoyed the new position.

She was slow in climaxing because it was her second time. She eventually speeded up her tempo and spilled her seed into the condom. I asked her to hold herself in me for just a few minutes as I allowed my pulse and breathing to slow down. Even though she was smaller than average, I enjoyed the feeling of her being inside me. I enjoyed the warmth and fullness.

We eventually collapsed side-by-side in her bed. I was naked and her baby doll was pushed up to her boobs. We held hands and lay there for several minutes as we let the sweat on our bodies cool us down. It took several minutes before I started to get a little too cool. I put on my negligee and went to the bathroom to brush my teeth and put a panty liner in my panties. I returned to bed to find Jasmine removing her condom and wiping herself off. "Let me do that," I said. I took a couple of Kleenex and wrapped them around the head of her penis as I milked the last bit of semen out of her flaccid penis. I gave her penis a kiss and said, "Thanks for the fun, sweetie. Goodnight."

 
 
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
 
 

In mid March, Tara sent in her second subpoena. This time she asked for some specific files from Karen Marlowe. I sent the files to Mr. Pearson who then sent them to his review committee. They looked through them and found the pictures of Jasmine. No one had any idea who she was, so they left the pictures in the file. In my e-mail file they found the note from John Taylor reprimanding me for addressing the office concerning harassment. They deleted that file. They also found a couple other files from Jason that I had been copied on. They deleted those also.

Tara called me that night and reminded me that I owed her a favor. She wanted me to go to dinner with her that Saturday night. "Dress sexy," she said just before she hung up. I told Jasmine that I would be busy Saturday night.

"Can I ask what you’re doing?"

"A guy asked me out."

"You’re going on a date?"

"It’s a one time thing. I owe him a favor. I can’t get out of it."

"What time will you be home?"

"I don’t know. Maybe Sunday morning," I said. Jasmine’s face drooped. It was painfully obvious that she was heart broken. "I’m sorry Jasmine, but I don’t have much choice on this. You’ve went on dates before," I said referring to her dates with Charles Pearson.

"I didn’t sleep with him," she said crisply.

"Who said I’m sleeping with anyone?"

"You did. You said you might spend the night. Let’s not play grammar games." She was indeed mad.

I had no way to argue with her. And I was doing it because of her. In a way I was. I was also doing it because of me. I needed Jasmine to go out with Pearson to help cover my exit from the company. So, I had asked Tara to help for both of our sakes. And now I had to repay the favor. "Jasmine, I’m sorry but I have to do this. I have never misled you concerning our relationship. I have never said I was in a monogamous relationship with you. When you started playing wife, I told you right out that you weren’t my wife and I wasn’t your husband. Come on, give me a break." I walked out of the room and into my bedroom. I closed the door behind me. I heard her bedroom door slam shut.

The rest of the week it was very cool in the house. Jasmine barely spoke to me, and it was usually in single sentences. She had a headache so we didn’t go out to dinner on Friday. On Saturday morning she decided to go to the laundromat and wash clothes. She spent most of the day there. She returned late in the day and announced that she would be going out for the evening. We both started getting ready for our evening, but we stayed in our separate rooms. It was an uncomfortable feeling when we bumped into each other going in and out of the bathroom. I had originally wanted to borrow one of her short, sexy dresses, but I decided that I had better not. I ended up wearing my best ‘little black dress’. I used my hot iron to curl my hair so I didn’t have to leave my bedroom to get my hair ready. I also stayed in my bedroom to apply my make-up.

When I went to leave, Jasmine remained in her room. "Have a nice time," she yelled through her bedroom door. I left with a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. I wanted to yell at her and remind her that we were not a couple. I had never told her we were a couple. I still wanted a real man with a real cock. But somehow, I still felt guilty. We had been living together for several months now. We had divided household duties and shared everything. We even shared expenses, other than rent and utilities. She had started buying some of the groceries, and she even picked up a restaurant tab once in a blue moon.

But somehow it rang hollow. And on top of everything else, I was going out on a date with another person just like her. I was going on a date with a crossdressing male and I was intending to have sex with him. Not exactly a ‘real man with a real cock’. And to make matters worse, it was her best friend. In fact, her only friend. I didn’t exactly feel proud of myself.

I met Tara at her house. She was dressed in a short red dress with a plunging neckline. I don’t know how she did it, but she had cleavage. Her nails were manicured and her hair was in an updo with a few tendrils falling along her face and neck. Her makeup was impeccable. She looked very attractive and very passable. It was possibly the best I had ever seen her look. I decided that I couldn’t bring Jasmine and my baggage along for the evening. I tried to be happy and perky.

"You look gorgeous tonight, Tara. My gosh, how did you get such cleavage? You’ve got more than me!"

She laughed and replied, "Tape. I’ll show you later. You look beautiful as always. I love your dress. Where did you get it?"

"I honestly don’t remember. I’ve had it for a long time."

"It still looks beautiful, but that’s probably because you can make anything look beautiful. So are you hungry?"

"Just a little," I said. My fight with Jasmine had taken away much of my appetite. "Where do you want to go?" I asked.

"I’m taking you out, Karen. I’ll drive. We’re going someplace new. I’ve never been there before and I don’t know for sure how TV friendly they will be. But it is one of the best restaurants around. I’ve heard great things about it."

"Tara, you won’t have to worry about being TV friendly. With your cleavage and that beautiful dress and makeup, no one will ever guess. You are going to be stared at though."

A big grin broke out on her face and she turned to get her purse. We walked to the door and she handed me her purse while she put on her coat. "Let’s go gorgeous." We locked arms as we walked to the car.

It was a 30 minute drive to the restaurant and we chatted about the weather and politics and even sports. She never once brought up work. That was going to be our dinner conversation. I tried to hold up my end of the conversation, but I’m sure it was lagging some.

We reached the restaurant and were seated. Tara continued the small talk until our drinks came. We both ordered a tequila drink. "Prost," Tara said as we toasted each other. "To a beautiful night," and we each took another sip.

"Ok now, we have to a have a heart-to-heart," Tara announced. "What the hell did you do?"

"I beg your pardon, young lady?" I asked innocently.

"I received the results of the latest subpoena. There isn’t much there, sister."

"Oh, I’m sorry. I have something for you." I set my purse on the table and retrieved my memory stick. I handed it over to Tara and smiled. "There might be some things on here that they forgot to send along."

"Like what?"

"Like I don’t know what they left off, yet."

"You mean they censored your files and deleted a few items?" I shook my head yes. "That’s illegal. They could be held in contempt of court." I just smiled. Tara smiled. "We can’t exactly compare files here. What might they have accidentally forgot to pass along?"

"Did you get some pictures of a girl?"

"That I did. Who is she?"

"The early Jasmine. Maybe we should start from the very beginning." I explained how I found out about Jasmine. Then I explained how I forced her to begin wearing panties and camisoles at work. I explained the reason for the pictures.

Tara was thunderstruck. "Jasmine never told me any of this."

"Well she probably wasn’t too proud of it. In fact she was extremely embarrassed."

"Why did she do it? Why did you do it?"

"Tara, that’s something I’ve thought long and hard about, and I still don’t have a good answer. The easy question is why did Jasmine do it. And the answer is because she had no self-esteem. She had been psychologically abused by her parents. With no self-esteem and no self-confidence it was easy for me to bully her into doing almost anything I wanted. That’s the easy answer. The really tough answer is why did I do it." I took a sip of my drink and stalled for time.

"So?"

"I’m stalling, can’t you tell?" She shook her head yes. "I’m not totally sure. I’m not a good shrink. Part of the reason was I was mad at men. I had been dating a man from work, and after three or four dates, I agreed to go to bed with him. Damn, he was well endowed."

"Better than me?" she grinned.

"Oh yea. Much better. But he was a Class "A"asshole. The next morning he left to go golfing."

"Shit!" she exclaimed.

"Oh yea. And on Monday he told everyone in the company."

"The asshole."

"I got crap from all the girls. I was so embarrassed I couldn’t stick my nose out of my office for a couple of days. So I was pissed at men in general. So just maybe I was trying to get even with men."

"And?"

"And I’m not sure. I was lonely, I had no real friends at the company, and I was being ignored by management. It soon became obvious that I was nothing more than the token girl, and she could be ignored. The quota was filled, end of conversation. So I had a chip on my shoulder. Maybe it was a way to get back at the company, maybe get even with the company males and the old-boy network, maybe a way to humiliate someone else. Lord knows I felt humiliated. Tara, I can’t really tell you why I did it. I just did it. And you know the really sick part?" Tara didn’t say a word. "I liked it. I enjoyed it. It was a rush. I humiliated him and I controlled him. I was having fun." I thought for a moment and then added, "I thought I was having fun. Does that explain why I did it?"

"Actually, I think it does. Will you say that on the witness stand?"

I gulped the rest of my drink. "That’s part of the reason I’m here Tara. Yes, I’ll tell them the same story under oath."

"Jesus Christ," she whispered. "What else."

"Is there a list of weekly reports or complaints from Jason?"

"I don’t remember seeing anything like that."

"How about a weekly performance review or complaint list concerning Jason."

"Yea, I saw that. It looks pretty bad."

"They’re all lies. You’ll have no problem proving it."

"How?"

"The memory stick has Jason’s weekly report. And by the way, he sent it to Lisa, the office manager who then wrote her version of events. Check times on the earliest version of each. He also copied HR, the director named Kleber, and sent me a blind copy. Since I was the first contact for HR in the law department, I also got Lisa’s reports. I then compared the two, wrote a critique pointing out discrepancies and I added notes on how to substantiate the true version. I can probably prove over 50% of Lisa’s comments are lies. You have all the details there," and I nodded towards the memory stick in front of her.

"No fuck?" she said.

"No fuck, lady. I can also testify that Jason was being harassed, insulted and blacklisted from the day he started the company."

"How?"

"I’ll testify that my very first day, the three worst culprits, including his direct manager, told me that they thought he was gay. They insulted him behind his back and called him derogatory nicknames. I’m sure we can pull other secretaries and paralegals into the deposition and force them into admitting the same thing."

"Wow."

"Tara, order me another drink, would you please, honey?" Tara stood and waved the waiter over. She wasn’t playing the part of a demure and beautiful lady. She was in lawyer mode and she demanded action.

"Continue," she said.

"I need more booze. Wait ’til he brings my drink." We sat quietly for a minute or so. He still hadn’t brought the drink but I began anyway. "Ya’ know Tara, I can’t exactly say I’m proud of any of this. The only thing I am proud of is no matter how pissed off Jasmine was, I did force her to do the right thing. It wasn’t my intention. My original intention was probably humiliation and pain, but I guess at least she came out in better shape." The meaning was that I didn’t come out in better shape. Tara was smart enough to keep her mouth shut. My drink finally arrived. I gulped down half of it.

"Was I saying something?"

"You were saying that the rest of the office was already calling him gay when you started there."

"You know, I was enjoying the situation most of the time. I kind of egged the girls on when Jason started dressing more obviously in women’s clothes. I made him go to lunch with us so the girls could embarrass and humiliate him. I made him wear panties, then a camisole, then stockings. I made him get hair extensions so his hair was long. Sometimes I let him wear it as a pony tail. Guys wear their hair that way. That’s ok. But other times I braided it. I braided it in a French braid. It was so obviously feminine that everybody in the company wanted to come to the law department and see the freak. Then I made him pierce his ears. Not once, but twice. Guys get their ears pierced, but not twice. At first I started him with studs. But eventually I made him wear hoops." I laughed and took another gulp.

Tara was quiet and just listened.

"In the end I even made him carry a purse to work. We arrived early and left late, so no one ever saw it. But it was the psychological effect on him. I was forcing him to act like a woman. I knew all of this was humiliating and embarrassing, but deep down inside me, I was sure that it was what he really wanted. And it was. He really did want to be forced into acting out his fantasies. His dreams actually. But that is a bunch of rationalization. I still can’t fully convince myself that it was ok." I took another gulp and finished that drink. "I need another, please."

Tara got the waiter’s attention and pointed to my empty glass. "So what happened then?"

"So his life became a living hell. The girls treated him like shit. There are three girls I want you to really go after; Lisa his boss, Terri and especially Jasmine. Call them up early and force them to tell their lies. Later you can nail their asses for perjury. They really did make life horrible for Jason. Did you know she’s on anti-depressants?"

"No."

"Paxil. A heavy dose. She couldn’t function without it. She was constantly crying." I paused and let the waiter set down my third drink. "She was also responsible for PC repairs and updates around the department. She rushed through that work first thing in the morning before any one else was in the office. Then she retreated to her cubicle and refused to leave for the rest of the day. She called it her foxhole."

"Shit." Tara had a limited vocabulary at times.

I shook myself out of my pity party. I was feeling sorry for both Jasmine and me. "Listen Tara, you’ve got just about everything you need to nail their asses. In addition, if you play your cards right you can nail half of them for perjury and the other half for withholding subpoenaed evidence. Win for Jasmine. Ok?"

"Ok. If everything you say is in there, no problem."

"Let’s order."

We ordered our entrees and another drink. My fourth was on order. "So you planned all of this in advance then?"

"Heavens no. I didn’t plan anything. It just evolved. It happened. I tried to manage it on the fly. I didn’t really know what I was doing."

"Well it worked out pretty well for you."

"Did it? I’m not so sure."

"What do you mean, Karen. I think we have an excellent case."

"It’s not the case, it’s me. I’m totally messed up now. Can I have another tequila?" Tara looked at me like I had just said something outrageous. "Did I spit on myself?" I asked.

"It’s coming. You really should slow down, Karen. You’re drinking pretty fast on an empty stomach."

"I know. I’m pretty stupid at times."

"Come on Karen, ease up on yourself. You’ve made Jasmine very happy."

"That’s nice. But Karen is getting screwed up. I’m not sure what is happening to me. I’m not thinking straight any more."

"Karen, what in the hell are you talking about?"

"Tara, I don’t know what I want any more. I don’t know where I’m going. I’m ashamed of everything I’ve done, but at the same time I think I did some good things. I’m totally confused."

"You’re not really happy about being here with me. Are you?"

"Why would you say that?"

"My office does a lot of divorces. I get all the wives and the other partners handle the husbands. They think I’m good with the girls. They think I have a special rapport. I wonder why they would think that?"

I grinned. The waiter brought me my drink. "Do your partners know about Tara?"

"No. The only two people in the world who know are you and Jasmine. But anyway, I’m getting fairly good at understanding women. I have an ability to listen and to hear some of the things that they aren’t saying. You aren’t saying a lot Karen. Do you want to?"

"Yes, I should."

"Let’s start with why you don’t want to be here with me. You don’t like me? You don’t want to sleep with me tonight?"

"You see, that’s the problem. I want to. I really, really want to. Tara, you are absolutely beautiful tonight. Sexy and especially desirable. I want you in the worst way."

"Keep going."

"But I don’t want to be attracted to transvestites. I want to be with real men with real cocks. I’ve never wanted to be with girls, I have no lesbian tendencies at all. But I see you and Jasmine and you are so feminine and so beautiful and I do want you. Because you are transvestites. I find both of you exquisitely desirable. All my life I’ve been solidly heterosexual and I never would have given you a second thought. And actually I didn’t. I knew you for a long time and I was not attracted to you. I liked you. I enjoyed talking with you and I thought you were pretty, but I had no desire to bed you. But now I do. I would love to take you to bed."

"Ok. So what’s the problem?"

"Jasmine. She is really pissed that I’m here with you tonight."

"You told her?"

"Well I had to say something. She expects me to be at her beck and call all the time. She acts like I’m her mate, her spouse."

"Karen, I thought you told me you two weren’t in that type of relationship."

"I’m not. Like I told you, I want a truly heterosexual relationship with a well-hung man. I’m not in love with Jasmine, but she’s in love with me. She thinks were a couple."

"I see. What exactly did you tell her about us?"

Our dinners arrived and I began pushing my food around my plate. "I told her I was going on a date."

"What?"

"I said it was business related, I owed you a favor and I had to go on this date."

"Did you tell her you were going out with me?"

"No. I didn’t name any names."

"You’re leaving something out, aren’t you?"

I pushed my food around a bit more. "She wanted to know when I would be home, and I said maybe Sunday morning."

"You didn’t."

"Yea, but I’m not tied to her. She should know that. It should be ok for me to do what I want to do." I was feeling a little tipsy and my logic was starting to tip also.

"Well that explains a few things. So what do you want to do now?"

I was confused. "I’d like to have sex with you, Tara. I really do. But I don’t want Jasmine to be mad. She’s mad you know? She wouldn’t talk to me for three days. She had a headache and refused to go out to dinner last night. Tonight she went out by herself."

"Where?"

"I don’t know. I didn’t ask and she didn’t say."

"Karen, here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to stop pushing your food around your plate, and your going to eat some of it, ok? You’re drunk and you need some food in your belly. Next, I’m going to call Jasmine and we’re going to find out where she is. Then we’re going to go get her. Eat," she ordered.

Tara pulled her cell phone from her purse and hit Jasmine’s speed dial. She sat and watched me eat for a few minutes while the phone rang. "Jasmine, hi it’s Tara. Good. What are you doing? Where are you? Stay there, I’ll join you. I’m half way across town so give me at least an hour, ok? Great. She ya soon."

"Karen, are you eating?"

"Yea," I said with a full mouth. "Waiter!" she yelled. "Something just came up and we have to leave now. Bring a couple of doggy bags and the bill, please."

The waiter wrapped up our meals and Tara handed him a hundred dollar bill. I guess she didn’t have a credit card in Tara’s name. It only took about ten minutes and we were in the car heading towards Susan’s. It was a lesbian nightclub a couple blocks from Glitter. "You’re too drunk to drive Karen, so we’ll go straight to Susan’s and get Jasmine. Then were going to my house and sober you up. Unless Jasmine wants to drive you home, you can spend the night at my house.

"So how you feeling?" Tara asked me.

"Same as before. Confused … guilty … mixed-up … a little angry … horny. I still owe you, Tara."

"I’m not sure if you do. Some how, I think you’re intentions were always well meant. Your methods might leave something to be desired, but I think you were looking out for Jasmine. And seeing what kind of people you were dealing with, I’m kind of glad I was able to meet Pearson as Tara. It adds a bit of irony to everything."

"You give me too much credit. I wanted you to be there that night not because of Jasmine but because of me."

"What do you mean?"

"I needed Jasmine to chase Pearson away without making him mad. I wanted Jasmine to date him in the first place because I wanted pictures for when I had to face him."

"What do you mean, Karen? Did you plan all of that?"

"No, I’m not that smart. I just took advantage of a couple of things. Like the invitation to his party. The only reason I went and took Jasmine was because I wanted to fuck Jasmine on Pearson’s own bed. Then I left the condom wrapper laying on his bed."

"WHAT?

"Oh yea. Didn’t I explain all of this to you?"

"No, you did not. Tell me what happened."

"Well that’s how Jasmine got the date with Pearson in the first place. I took Jasmine to his party. I said she had a wardrobe malfunction and we needed a private room for a few minutes. He let us use his bedroom and I fucked Jasmine on his bed. Then I left the condom wrapper on the bed. That’s how Jasmine got the date with Pearson. He thought she looked hot and when we went to leave he asked her for a date."

"So they went on a date?"

"Yea."

"And then they had a second date?" Tara was confused.

"Yep. Only by that time I realized that we had to put a stop to it. We had enough to embarrass him, and if we dragged it out further, it would probably have really pissed him off when he found out later."

"And how does this affect you. Why did you say that my favor was more for you than for Jasmine?"

"Because as you’ll see, we already had enough evidence to probably win Jasmine’s case. But the day after I give my deposition, I’m going to get fired. Maybe not the day after, but it won’t take long. Ya’ know what I mean."

"I think I’m starting to. I forgot about you and what’s going to happen after you testify. Yes, they’re going to be royally pissed at you. They’ll fire your ass in a heartbeat."

"If I’m lucky."

"What do you mean by that?"

"They might also bring charges up against me for unethical behavior. I could lose my license."

"They wouldn’t, would they?"

"They might. Especially if Pearson thinks we screwed him and embarrassed him on purpose. That’s why I needed the favor. I need him in a vulnerable position, but not a pissed-off position so I can bargain with him."

"What are you going to bargain for?"

"I’ll offer my immediate resignation with no hassle if he’ll promise not to charge me in front of the board and try to get my license revoked."

"And is that where the first date and the pictures come in to play?"

"Yea. I’m hoping he remembers that I have them, and even if I don’t do anything overt, I can embarrass him with his buddies. Nobody wants to have his friends think he was played for a schmuck."

"Now it’s all starting to fall into place. You’re a hell of a lot more clever than you take credit Karen. It all makes sense now. What a plan! I am really impressed."

"Tara, I’m not kidding when I say there was no plan. Some things kind of happened, and I tried to play them the best I could. But very, very little of this was planned. It happened. If I was that smart Jasmine wouldn’t be mad at me, and I’d have some manly stud for a boyfriend."

Tara laughed quietly and muttered something about O. Henry.

We finally made it to Susan’s. We walked in and found Jasmine sitting at the bar. Jasmine saw me and said, "What are you doing here?"

Tara answered, "Karen was my date tonight."

Jasmine was totally surprised. "Your date? She said she was going out with a guy."

Tara just looked at Jasmine and said nothing.

"Ok, but she said it was business and she owed you a favor. Were you two going to have sex?" Jasmine’s eyes burned into Tara. I turned away from the two of them and waved the bartender over. I listened to their conversation as I ordered a tequila sunrise.

"Jasmine it was business, and yes she owes me a favor. But no, I’m not going to collect. Today I received the latest batch of documents that I subpoenaed from your old company. Apparently, they left out a lot of incriminating documents and Karen brought them to me. They’re really important documents. Critical and possibly the ultimate documents we will need to win your case. She explained all about them and how to use them to win your case.

"The favor she owed me was something she did for you. When you needed my help to chase away Charles Pearson I refused. Remember?"

"Yes," she said suspiciously. My drink arrived and I started sipping.

"Karen called me and said she would do anything I asked if I would help you. She was being totally unselfish and I tried to take advantage of her. I’m ashamed of myself now. You and Karen are the only friends that I, Tara, have. Karen reminded me how important that is. I’m sorry for even taking Karen away from you for one night. I don’t want to lose your friendship Jasmine."

Jasmine was deciding what to say next. I spun around on my barstool and Tara saw my drink. She made a grab for it and I blocked her. "Karen, you don’t need any more to drink. You’re drunk already."

"I’ll be the judge of that," I said as I took another sip.

Jasmine looked at me with a hard look in her eyes. "You hurt me," she said. "I’m in love with you and you know it. But you were perfectly willing to walk out and have sex with someone else. You don’t even care about me."

Tara jumped back into the fray with a vengeance. "Jasmine, you don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. You have no idea what Karen has done for you, and what she has given up for you. No one in this world has done more for you than Karen."

"Like what?" She threw the question at Tara like a grenade.

"Let’s start with her job. She’s going to be fired because of you."

Jasmine stopped dead in her tracks. She glared first at Tara and then at me. "What is she talking about?" Jasmine asked me.

Again, Tara acted as my attorney and answered for me. "She’s going to go on the stand, and under oath she’s going to back up everything that has happened to you. She’s given me irrefutable proof that you’re telling the truth and they are lying. It’s going to blow their case and open some of their people up to possible perjury. Pearson himself will be open to charges of withholding subpoenaed documents. As soon as she does that, she will be fired. And if they’re really pissed and they think they can get away with it, they’ll try to get her disbarred. And even if they don’t do that, she will be black listed in Chicago and maybe the entire state of Illinois. How’s that for starters?"

Obviously Jasmine didn’t know what to say. She turned to me and asked, "Is all of that true?"

I shrugged my shoulders and took another sip.

"Come on Jasmine, if you want to be mad at someone be mad at me. If you want, you can fire me. I’ll turn the case over to someone else if you want."

"Nope," I said. "Tara you will try the case. No one else is necessary." I finished my drink and set the glass on the bar. I held up one finger for the bartender.

"No you don’t," yelled Tara. She waved at the bartender and handed him a ten dollar bill. "You’ve had enough." Tara turned to Jasmine and said, "Karen’s had enough to drink. She can’t drive tonight. I’ll take both of you back to my house. You can either drive Karen home in your car, or you can both stay over at my place. Or if you’re still mad, you can go home and Karen can sleep in my spare bedroom … by herself." Tara turned to me and pulled me to my feet, "Come on girl, let’s go."

She may have thought I was drunk, and maybe I was a little, but I knew perfectly well what the situation was. And I had no trouble walking. The three of us walked out to the car and they helped me into the back seat. They sat in the front seat and ignored each other for the entire trip back to Tara’s.

It was time for me to do something. As we stepped out of the car I slipped and fell on my butt. "Ouch goddamn it," I swore. I thought the swearing would be a nice addition. Tara and Jasmine both took one arm and pulled me to my feet. "Can we spend the night?" Jasmine asked.

"Absolutely," Tara answered. I gave Tara a wink.

They walked me into the house and Jasmine took me into the bathroom and helped hold me up as I washed my face. Then she took me into the spare bedroom and stripped my clothes off. She slipped one of Tara’s negligees over me and put me to bed. I fell unconscious in a matter of minutes.

 
 
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
 
 

I’m not sure what happened that night after I went to bed, but Tara and Jasmine must have settled their differences. Everyone became good friends again. I think we all learned something that night, but I’m not sure about me. I was still willing to go to bed with Tara. Maybe along with my desire for a ‘real man with a real cock’, I wanted more variety. I have no idea what my problem was, but that was me.

Tara was finally able to nail down the company to set a deposition date. They managed to delay it until late May, and they came up with a handful of continuances and had it delayed into late June. But eventually, even the American law system caught up with Mr. Charles Pearson and his connections. The deposition was set. Both Jasmine and Karen prepared for the big day.

I was prepped by the finest lawyers our company could buy. I went through four different mock trials. If they say this, you say this. If they do this, you counter with this. Never answer more than they’ve asked. If they ask a yes or no question, you never say more than yes or no. Make them push for more details. Remember, their questions have to be specific. If they ask for a general question, answer in generic terms. Tell them nothing specific. Don’t answer questions looking for your opinion. This is a court of law and facts, not opinions. Look for the most general way possible to answer any question. If they can’t ask a very specific question, you can’t answer. Look at your counsel if you have any questions. He’ll help. If you have a problem answering the question, your counsel can intercede and make them rephrase the question. Do that until you get a formatted question that you’re comfortable with."

It was an hilarious situation. I was already being prepped, but it was by the other side. In terms of international spies and James Bond, I was the ultimate mole. Not that I was especially proud of that, but it was kind of fun. As Tara would say, "Shit - life should be fun - go for it girl!" I went for it.

So did Jasmine. By late May, her hair had grown almost another two-inches, and her perm was wimping out. It was time for the girl to get ready for her big day. There was only one person to see; Gina. Jasmine made the appointment to see Gina. Jasmine told Gina just exactly how important the occasion was going to be. Fortunately Jasmine had spoken to the genius. Gina knew exactly what to do. She turned Jasmine into a goddess.

About three weeks before the deposition, Jasmine went to Gina’s salon. Gina started by coloring Jasmine’s hair. Jasmine went from a light brunette to a gorgeous, no a stunning, red head. Gina didn’t make her an outlandish or a super bright redhead, just a sexy and not-too-subtle redhead. Jasmine’s hair was about two inches longer than in December when Gina had last performed her magic. Gina left her hair straight and long. Jasmine’s previous style fit exactly into what Gina wanted to accomplish. Jasmine came home with a straight style that hung to the top of her shoulders. All of her hair was essentially the same length, as it looked like the hair from her crown ran straight to the bottom of her cut. It was perfectly straight, she had her bangs cut razor straight, one millimeter above her eyebrows and the color–oh my the color! Jasmine looked like a Hollywood starlet.

When she walked in the door, I had to have some fun, "Who are you?" She gave me a smile. "Listen, I’m expecting my girlfriend home any minute now. We better go screw right now before she gets home."

Jasmine giggled and said, "I know, she’s probably not more than an hour behind me. Quick strip down to your panties and let’s jump in bed."

It just so happened that I was wearing a long, comfortable pleated skirt. I reached under my skirt and pulled my panties off and showed them to Jasmine. "Come on, hottie, let’s do it."

Jasmine laughed and laughed. It was obvious that she was happy with Gina’s performance, and I think she liked my review. "What do you think?" as she spun around.

I laughed and sat down. "Oh my. Oh yea, not only is Gina an artist, but her canvas is 24-karat gold. You are, and I will not lie or exaggerate, absolutely fantastic. Beautiful. Sexy." I had to pause to find the right words, "No you’re better than that. Jasmine, I’m not sure what to say, but I’m very serious when I say that your hair, your color and your style are striking. They’re what you would see on a gorgeous Hollywood star who had spent all day getting ready, and was now trying to impress the entire world. No more than that, it’s what the studio with five hundred dollar an hour stylists with unlimited budgets would do to make a statement in front of the Oscars. Wow!"

"That’s it?" she asked. "I tried hard, and that’s it?" She was grinning from ear to ear.

"I’m sorry Jasmine, but for once I’m forced to tell the truth."

Till this day, when I think back I truly was amazed. Her hair looked like it came out of a shampoo ad. It flowed, it shined, and it radiated. It was perfectly straight, it was red and it was sexy. Jasmine had no idea how good she really looked. For an observer, it was beyond TV and movies.

The day of the deposition finally arrived. Jasmine and I had discussed our clothes for weeks in advance. We both were going to have to make a solid statement. We wanted to look credible, but feminine and vulnerable at the same time. We wanted everyone to say, ‘Oh shit, everything they said was true, and I want to convict those assholes that did that to them.’

We decided that I would go in as a solid business and intellectual woman. Very professional, very credible and strong, but also a woman. I went with a new business suit. I wore a low-cut blouse, no cleavage, but lower than normal business blouses. It was ivory colored and fit well with my dark blue, pinstripe suit. My skirt ended a bit higher than normal, right at my knee, so when I was seated it pulled about an inch or two above my knee. Black stockings and two-inch heels completed the clothing. I wore my hair in a bun with very long needles to give me the ‘librarian’ look. The idea was to duplicate the pornographic image of the sexy, but repressed librarian.

(I guess it worked alright, because Jasmine insisted that I stay ‘dressed in role’ when she attacked me that night.)

We decided to take almost the same approach with Jasmine. We wanted there to be no doubt in that court room that Jasmine was all woman. We put Jasmine in a business dress, but we emphasized the younger business woman approach. We knew that the color of her dress was going to be extremely important. Red or white would be overbearing. We went with a subdued periwinkle blue. The dress had a rounded neckline and a lace trim that ended well above her cleavage. The dress itself extended to her mid-calf and had a tight, form-fitting shape. The waist was ruched, and with her corset pulled ‘Betty Boop’ tight, she had a very womanly figure. She had long sleeves that ended with three buttons and a bit of lace on each sleeve.

Of course her hair was stunning. Jasmine Cally Vail had her nails manicured and she went with rather heavy makeup , but used subdued colors. With the strong bangs that she had with her new hairstyle, she had to go a bit heavier than usual on the mascara and eye makeup. She wore large, 18 karat gold hoop earrings, and a wide, gold herringbone necklace. She had recently taken to wearing her glasses as they complimented her new hairstyle and color. Jasmine looked nice, period.

We drove to the courthouse and found a seat outside the courtroom. Jasmine and I sat side-by-side and chatted in a whisper. Thomas "Tara" Jefferson walked by us and gave us a slight nod. Mr. Kleber, Lisa, Jasmine and Terri dribbled into the area and I gave each a quick wave, and then turned my attention back to Jasmine. I didn’t want any of the girls wandering over to chat with us. I didn’t think they would recognize Jasmine, but I didn’t want to take any chances. If they heard her voice they might put two and two together.

Eventually Charles Pearson and two of the company’s outside counsel arrived. Charles spotted us and walked over. "Jasmine, is that you? My you look pretty to day. What are you doing here?"

"I’m here with Mr. Jefferson."

Charles looked confused for a moment, then a light went on in his head. "I’d forgotten. You said you were a paralegal and looking for work. I guess you’re working for Mr. Jefferson now?"

I started giggling to myself. ‘Actually, he’s working for Jasmine,’ I thought to myself. I really wished that I could be in the courtroom when Pearson discovered who Jasmine really was. Jasmine and Tara had strict instructions to memorize Pearson’s facial expression when he learned the truth. I wanted both of them to describe the moment to me in perfect detail later.

Jasmine shrugged her shoulders and immediately changed the subject. "Do you like my new hair color?"

"It’s absolutely striking," he said. "It looks very becoming on you."

"Thanks. Now, I need a man’s opinion on something. There is no right or wrong answer so don’t be bashful. Do you like my hair better this way, or the way I used to have it?"

"Jasmine, I like it both ways."

"That’s not an answer. Come on, I really want to know."

"I love your hair this color. It really is good. But I think I prefer you in curls. I’ve always been partial to curly hair."

"Thank you for your honest opinion. Next time I have my hair styled, I’ll put some curls into it."

"I’m sure that whatever you do, you’ll look beautiful." He glanced at his watch. "I better get going. I hope to see you again."

"You will, Charles," and she broke into a huge smile.

Jasmine picked up her purse and took a deep breath. "I guess I better get in there too. Wish me luck."

"Good luck gorgeous."

The deposition was being held in the private chambers of one of the county judges. There would be no judge for the depositions. A stenographer would record everything, while the two opposing sides deposed the witnesses. This was the opportunity for both legal parties to learn all of the details concerning the case. They had to share all of the information that each had. Witnesses were treated much as they were in a real court; they had to swear to tell the truth and they had to answer question from both lawyers. The witness’ lawyer could order that a certain question not be answered, but if there wasn’t a good reason for refusing to answer the question, it could and probably would be brought up later in front of the judge. The witnesses would be deposed one at a time, and would not hear any testimony from anyone else. When finished, they would be instructed to not discuss any details outside of the room.

Tara had been planning her attack for weeks. She started with Mr. Kleber, the head of the Human Resources Department. Most of the initial questioning concerned HR policies and guidelines. Tara had already read all of the guidelines, but this was her chance to get the details into the record. She was setting the table, so to speak.

Next, she had Kleber review all of the information that he had received concerning Jason. This included e-mails, written reviews and telephone conversations from everyone involved. Some of the documents came from Jason, some from Lisa and a few from other interested parties. However, not all of Jason’s e-mails were in the ‘official’ package. Most of the interesting discussion would concern Lisa versus Jason and what they had reported to HR. Tara pointed out all of the conflicting information coming from the different parties.

Finally, she made Kleber explain what steps he had taken and why. Why had he believed one person and not the other, and how his steps fit within the company guidelines. She hammered home the point that if the reports that Kleber had received were incorrect, then his decision to terminate Jason was incorrect. And she pointed out, that the company was responsible for any person who knowingly lied or misrepresented the facts. Kleber couldn’t claim ignorance, because it was his job to verify all the facts before acting. She made sure everyone knew that the company’s actions could only be upheld in a court of law if all of their own guidelines had been followed and only if Jason had not performed within those guidelines.

Kleber’s testimony was without controversy. He merely explained the rules that the evidence would have to meet. Next, Tara brought in Lisa. Tara spent over an hour going over every one of Lisa’s e-mails, telephone conversations and written reviews. She made Lisa clarify every point and take credit for everything she had said or written. Tara never questioned any of Lisa’s comments, she just made sure that there could be no doubt as to what Lisa had claimed.

After Lisa was finished, Tara brought in Jasmine and Terri and did the same thing. In addition, Tara repeatedly asked if any of them had instigated any acts or comments against Jason. Were they truly innocent in all encounters as they claimed? Was there anyone else who could verify or support what they said? Again, she made it perfectly clear what Terri and Jasmine were claiming. Tara nailed down their testimony in the finest details.

Then the moment of truth came. I was called into the chambers. I took a seat and immediately looked at Jasmine and then Pearson. If Pearson had been shocked by his discovery concerning Jasmine it was no longer evident. But he did look angry. I think he had put two and two together and realized that I was probably going to be on Jason/Jasmine’s side. How right he was.

Thomas "Tara" Jefferson began my questioning. We started with my very first day at work. We went over the gay comments concerning Jason. Who had said what at lunch? Who had asked additional questions later? How often did they say these things? Who else did they make these comments to? We went into as much detail as I could remember. Then Tara asked, "And let me understand the timing here, had Jason begun dressing in women’s clothing at this time?"

"No," I answered. I glanced at Pearson and he was staring at me. He was mad.

"And you know this for an absolute fact?"

"Yes, I do."

"I’m going to come back to how you can be so sure of that. But first, let’s review what happened once Jason did begin wearing women’s clothes. What were the comments once the other girls realized he was wearing women’s panties?"

I covered as many details as I could remember. We went chronologically through Jason’s increased use of women’s clothes and what the girls said and how they reacted each step of the way. We covered only what I had witnessed first hand. Pearson was getting hotter and hotter as I undermined his entire case. I repeatedly pointed out that the other girls had instigated harassment and they had lied about it under oath. Up to this point it was mostly my word against theirs, and Pearson repeatedly pointed this out.

Next, Tara reviewed the documents that had been sent to HR. The documents that Kleber and his department had used to justify firing Jason. It was at this point that Tara presented the logs that Pearson had withheld form Tara during the discovery process. Tara made an off-hand comment about the document not appearing during the discovery phase, but now wasn’t the time to discuss why it hadn’t been delivered with the other documents.

We went through every one of the points in my logs, and I presented documented refutation to most of Lisa’s complaints and poor reviews. Pearson was really angry at this point. He tried to argue on the first one or two points, and Tara pulled out documented evidence each time. It was becoming evident that Pearson had been out prepared by Tara. She was ready to beat him on every point that he tried to bring up. Tara had been preparing for these points for over two months. Pearson had never expected to see any of them. There was little wonder as to why Tara was winning.

By the end of the line of questioning, we had defeated just about every claim that the company could make as to Jason’s performance and workplace actions. But they still had one point to fall back on; Jason was dressing inappropriately for work and that alone was enough reason to dismiss him. They could still argue that it was his decision to do this, and he had to accept the consequences.

That was when the conversation became really interesting. Tara began, "Earlier, Karen, you said that you knew exactly when Jason began wearing women’s clothing. Tell us how you are able to be so sure of your self."

I looked at Pearson and began, "Because I am the one who made Jason wear those clothes. Each and every day I brought clothes to work and I made him put the clothes on, and then I made him show me the clothes to prove that he was wearing them. Jason didn’t decide to wear women’s clothes, I made him wear women’s clothes." Charles Pearson’s face registered pure hatred. If there hadn’t been other people in the room, he probably would have strangled me. I loved that look.

"Why?" Tara continued.

That was where everything became difficult. Even after all that time, I still didn’t know why. I explained how I found out that he was a closet transvestite. I explained how I had been embarrassed by Mikey. I even explained my anger at Pearson and the rest of his male staff. I explained my resultant anger at men in general, and my desire to humiliate Jason. I went over everything that I had discussed months earlier with Tara at our dinner appointment. But that still didn’t explain why to my satisfaction. Everyone seemed satisfied with my reasoning, but I still didn’t buy it. At least not all of it. I’m not sure that I ever will understand why I did it.

I continued with my story on the humiliation of Jason. Tara pulled out copies of the pictures of Jasmine that I had saved on my computer. I explained the morning routine of dressing Jason and then reviewing the pictures. I explained how it continued until Jason moved in with me. At that point I started dressing him at home, and I forced him to dress in more feminine clothes as the days and weeks went by. I controlled his dressing, and so I was the one responsible for the attire that he wore to work. One of the lawyers at his company intimidated him into doing what the company eventually fired him for.

When I finally finished, the dynamics of the room were much different than when I had entered. I had been in the witness chair for almost three hours. We decided to take a break. Pearson immediately walked over to me and said, "I’ll expect your resignation letter first thing tomorrow morning."

"I’ll bring it to your office at 8:00 A.M. Will you be there by then?" He turned and walked away.

I walked over to Tara and Jasmine, "That was pleasant," I said with a twisted smile. "Ok, tell me what happened when Pearson figured out who Jasmine really was?"

"It was great," said Jasmine. "I was sitting at the table with Tara when the stenographer came in. Pearson and his guys were sitting at the table and just waiting. Tara says, ‘Ok, shall we get started?’ and Pearson says, ‘Aren’t you going to wait for your client?’"

Tara broke in and said, "That’s when I replied, ‘My client’s here, we can get started.’ It finally dawned on Pearson. He looked at Jasmine and this dumbfounded look went across his face."

"And he started to turn red," Jasmine interceded. "And the best part was when one of the other lawyers looks at Charles and says, "Are you alright? Would you like something to drink?"

"I wanted to break out laughing," Tara said. "It was the best thing that I have ever seen in a court of law. He never said a word for the first two witnesses."

"Yea, he just sat there while the other guys made all of the comments and asked their questions."

"He looked like a deer in the headlights. It was great!" Tara finished.

I was all smiles. "I think he recovered a little. He just told me he wants my resignation first thing tomorrow morning."

"I’m sorry to hear that," Tara said.

"Me too," added Jasmine.

"But it wasn’t unexpected was it?" Tara asked.

"Nope. Now I hope I can negotiate an escape without having my entire career and future destroyed."

"You will. I have all the faith in the world in you," Jasmine said. She took hold of my hand and gave it a squeeze while she gave me a reassuring smile. "Thanks for everything you’ve done for me. Especially sitting up there and telling everyone the truth. Only a real friend would do that."

"Enough pity," I said. I turned to Tara, "Are you done?"

"I think I’ve done enough damage for one day. Let me go ask Charles if he wants to call it a day." Tara left the room and I slumped into a chair.

"Are you ok?" Jasmine asked.

"Yea. I’m just tired. That was a lot more difficult than I thought it would be. I’m emotionally drained. I need some food and a drink."

"I agree. Here comes Tara. Well?"

"We’re outta here."

"Where’s the nearest bar," I asked.

"Follow me, I’m buying. Thomas "Tara" Jefferson led us out of the courthouse and down the street to a corner bar with cold drinks and excellent hamburgers. We celebrated our initial battle with the corporate world. We found a booth at Tara’s bar and ordered a round of drinks. After a bit of idle chit-chat Jasmine asked, "What’s the next step?"

Tara responded, "We meet again tomorrow at nine to finish the depositions. I still want to call John Taylor and nail him down on his memo to Karen. And we haven’t heard yet from you Jasmine. I’m sure that Pearson has some questions for you."

"Oh boy, I can hardly wait," she said with absolutely no enthusiasm.

"Don’t worry Jasmine. Just remember what we’ve talked about, and you’ll be just fine. Remember, smile and look Charles in the eye. You’ve already got one leg up on him."

"Don’t under estimate him," I warned.

"What are you going to do tomorrow?" Tara asked.

"I’ll go to work just like normal. I’m prepared for my meeting with Mr. Pearson. I’ve got my resignation typed and I have the pictures from his date with Jasmine. If he decides to come in early and sack me, I’ll be ready. If not, I’ll go through my normal routine and wait for him to finish your deposition. I’m sure that he’ll return to the office then."

I took another drink and then asked Tara, "What was your take on today? Did we make our point?"

"Without a doubt, Karen. It was a devastating day for the defense. They’ll be rethinking everything tonight."

"Do you think they’ll settle out of court?" Jasmine asked.

"Not yet. We’re dealing with a big corporation. Pearson couldn’t settle tomorrow even if he wanted to. There are several layers of checks and balances and he’ll have to work his way through all of them." Tara smiled at Jasmine and added, "But we gave him plenty to consider. We’ll have to finish tomorrow and then wait for him to make the next move."

"But you will apply a little pressure, right?" I asked.

"Yes. It will take close to two weeks for us both to receive the transcripts of the deposition. As soon as they arrive, I’ll call Mr. Pearson and make our first offer."

"With a deadline of course." Jasmine stated.

"Of course. Each week I’ll call him and raise the price."

"Do you think he’ll think we’re serious?"

"Probably not. He’s going to assume it’s just a negotiating technique. But if he does make a counter offer, and I refuse it once, then he might assume that we are serious. It’s going to be a big poker game and we’ll have to see who blinks first."

"And if we go to trial …?"

"I’m confident that we’ll win, Jasmine. But you never know what a jury will award. To be honest, I don’t think a jury will offer a transvestite as much money as we’re asking for. Our society hasn’t come that far. I think they’ll give us justice, but not much money. — maybe even nothing. And I suspect Pearson thinks the same way."

"And do you think Pearson is willing to gamble?"

"If not for your date with him, yes I think he is willing to go to trial. He’ll load that jury with as many homophobic men as he can find. They’ll sit in that jury box and dissect you with a fine tooth comb. I really don’t want to go there."

"But there is my date with him, right?"

"Yea. Strange things can happen at a trial and he knows that also. If some how I can bring out his date with you, he is going to be extremely embarrassed. I’m betting that he doesn’t want that to happen. We’ll actually have a good read on him after he fires Karen. If he agrees to your demands and signs your agreement, then I’ll feel much better about our chances."

"Oh joy," I murmured.

The next morning I decided to go with a soft and feminine dress. I applied a bit more makeup than usual and tied my hair up. I wore a pair of twwo-inch heels. I dropped a bottle of bright nail polish in my purse. I decided that once I reached the office I’d put on a couple of coats before Pearson came in.

I didn’t think that I would be able to haggle it out with him if I tried the power business-look. It wasn’t going to work with this man. But if I could remind him of my feminine charms and by association, Jasmine’s, I thought maybe I could forge a small advantage.

Jasmine gave me a hug and kiss as I left for work. "Good luck, Karen. I love you."

I reached the office by seven. No one else was there. I sat at my desk and applied the nail polish to my nails. Then I leaned back in my chair and closed my eyes. I rehearsed my speech to Pearson. I knew it was a waste of time. As soon as I walked into his office, I knew that I would forget the entire speech, and I’d stumble around answering his questions and accusations.

And that is exactly what happened. He arrived at work at 1:30 and called me. He wanted to see me immediately. I took out my purse, grabbed my compact and lipstick and I freshened the color on my lips. ‘Let’s go,’ I said to myself.

When I reached his office, I took a deep breath and knocked on the door. "Come in Karen. And close the door behind you." I walked in and he was sitting behind his desk. He was leaning back in his chair and had his hands clasped and sitting on his lap. He stared at me as I walked in and stood in front of his desk. He did not offer me a chair, so I opened my file folder and dropped two copies of my resignation on his desk.

"Is this your resignation?" he asked coldly.

"Yes sir."

He picked them up and took a quick glance at them. "Why are there two copies here?"

"Because one copy is for me."

He gave me a questioning look and then said, "Maybe I had better read this. Sit."

I sat. He read. He was a fast reader, and he finished in less than two minutes. "You’ve got big balls, Karen." He smiled at his little joke. I said nothing. My speech had long been forgotten. "And why do you think I should agree to this?" he demanded.

"Because it ties up a lot of loose ends, Mr. Pearson. It puts this entire episode behind us, and there are no further issues to bring up later."

"You must feel pretty proud of your self, Karen. You and this Jason person. How long did it take you to put this extortion plan together?"

"There was no plan, Mr. Pearson. I never planned this. It happened. It happened mostly because of you, you and your laissez-faire approach to managing this office. You and your sexist attitude towards me."

"What are you talking about, Karen? My sexist attitude?"

"Come on, I’m not totally stupid. I was here to merely fill that little box on your forms to the government. Yes, we have a woman in a professional position. Not that we’ll ever let her into the true decision-making level of the company."

"What are you blathering about?"

"In over nine months here, I met with you once. Just once. I was able to meet with my direct manager only three times. Three whole times!" I spat at him. "I asked for additional meetings and additional guidance and I was always told that he was too busy to see me. Every time I asked someone to join me for lunch I was turned down. I was never asked to lunch by any of your people. It didn’t take long to see what my status was. I was a token female, and all of your protestations won’t change that."

He changed his attack, "What do you mean this was my fault with my laid-back approach? I didn’t lean on this staff and drive them crazy with micro-managing. I thought most people now-a-days responded better to that approach. I disagree 100 percent with you Ms. Marlowe."

"No, you can’t claim any of that crap. You provided no guidance and no management at all. You left it up to your office manager with no over-sight of her. It went to her head and she acted as she and her little clique damn well pleased. And Taylor’s memo reprimanding me for trying to lay out some guidance is proof of it. Did you tell him to send the reprimand to me?"

He swung his chair 90 degrees and looked out the window. It was at that point that I realized that I had hit the mark. He probably did tell Taylor to send it. Or at least he gave Taylor permission to send it. Up until now I thought he was relatively innocent in all of this, but now I knew better. He had decided how I would be treated and utilized. He did control things the way he wanted, and the office ran the way that he wanted. This wasn’t laissez-faire, this was behind-the-scenes manipulation. He was the enemy here.

"Ms. Marlowe, I’m not going to buy any of this feminine whining. You will not get away with any of this."

He swiveled his chair back around and leaned forward, trying to intimidate me. "I have no intention of signing this contract of yours. I will terminate you with or without you’re resignation letter. And If I want to initiate disbarment proceedings against you, I will do so."

I stood up and reached for the contracts. I placed them in my file case, and then I took out a picture and handed it over to Mr. Pearson. "Here," I said. "Jasmine asked me to give this to you. She asked me to tell you that she had a great time. She thought that maybe you would like a souvenir of your time together."

Pearson froze. He stared at me with his cold eyes and through clenched teeth he said, "So this is where your plan becomes evident. Your cards are on the table. Blackmail is it?"

"Not at all," I said. "You’re so hung up on this extortion plan and blackmail plan. I said under oath that there was no plan. I merely handled the situation to my advantage. I manipulated things that evidently you set up to your desires. The problem is, you’re pissed because I turned your stupid incompetence against you.

"Well Mr. Pearson, I’m going to make a confession just between us. There was one thing I planned. It was your Christmas party."

"How did you manipulate that? You set me up with Jasmine to embarrass me, admit it."

"Get over it. How in the world was I going to convince you to hit on Jasmine? Shit, I didn’t even know that you were divorced. No, the only thing I planned was fucking Jasmine in your own bedroom on your own bed. ‘Wardrobe malfunction’? I used that excuse to convince you to let us have your bedroom. I stripped off her panties, laid her on your bed and then climbed on top and fucked her. It was great. By the way, did you get my souvenir from that night? I left the condom wrapper on your pillow."

I had hit the bullseye. I could see it in his eyes. He had found the condom, and now he knew where it came from. I had him off balance and now was the time to finish with my planned speech. "If you sign the contract, I walk out of here and you never see me again. I’ll even leave town. I think you’ve got enough other problems, Mr. Pearson. You’ve got some employees who committed perjury to start with. There is the question of some missing subpoenaed files. And you’ve got a lawsuit that’s going to be very embarrassing with upper management. You don’t need me around. Here," and I placed the contracts back on his desk. "Signing the contract costs you nothing except some petty revenge. And you don’t want to go there. Sign it and I’m gone. Period. I’ll be waiting in my office." I walked out before he could say anything else.

I went straight to the ladies room and soaked a paper towel in the sink. I sat down on the comfort couch and placed the towel on my forehead. I leaned back and closed my eyes. That was the toughest thing that I had ever done. That was much more difficult than the deposition the day before. I was proud of myself. I didn’t totally fold, and I did get my message across at the end. There were many things that I should have said or said better, but I didn’t fold. Wow!

It took twenty or thirty minutes for my pulse to return to even close to normal. I tossed the towel and returned to my office. A signed copy of the letter was sitting on my desk. The emotion that flowed through me was something that I had never expected. Relief is only the tip of the iceberg. At first I wasn’t sure that he had signed it. I read the entire contract and looked at his signature. It was still there. The invisible ink had not disappeared.

I didn’t know what to do first. I started picking up the few items that I had left and stuffed them into my briefcase. I couldn’t grab items fast enough. I was afraid that I would leave something behind. I walked around the room one last time, picked up my purse and briefcase and walked out. I walked out and never looked at anyone. I didn’t notice any of the offices or the cubicles as I walked straight to the elevator and hit the button. It took forever to arrive. I wanted out before Pearson changed his mind and came running after me.

I got off the elevator, and almost ran to my old rust-bucket. I climbed in and drove out of the parking deck, continuously looking in my mirror to see if anyone was following me. As soon as I reached the street, I turned left and started smiling. "I did it!" I screamed to no one. "I did it!" I couldn’t wait to get home and give Jasmine the news.

The full effect had sunk in by the time I reached our apartment. Jasmine was already home. She had returned directly from the deposition. "Karen, you’re home," she yelled as she ran over and gave me a kiss and a hug. "You’re home early. Did Pearson go back to the office? Are you fired?"

"Yep. He came back and we had our talk." I said noncommittally.

"And well?" she asked.

"It couldn’t have gone better," I said. Jasmine started jumping up and down. She grabbed me around the neck and gave me a big sloppy kiss.

"That’s great," she said. "Tell me the entire story. I want to hear all of the details."

"Sure, let’s sit on the couch. But first, how did your day go?"

"Ok. No problems. Charles asked me almost no questions at all, mostly he had me confirm facts. He had me confirm the reports that I had written. He asked if Jasmine and Terri had indeed committed the things that I claimed, calling me names and messing with my desk. It didn’t last nearly as long as I thought it would. Tara said afterwards that she was surprised."

"Well, that seems consistent with my meeting. He acted very tough and adversarial at first, but I gave him your picture and pointed out that he had some perjury problems on his hands, and he came around."

"What exactly did he say when you gave him the picture?"

"He accused me of blackmail. He said, ‘So this is your plan.’ I told him there was no way in the world that I could possibly manipulate him into falling for you. I told him that I didn’t even know he was divorced. But what really finished him off was when I told him my plan for his Christmas party, and how we pulled it off. I told him about the souvenir I left on his bed. That really shook him. I think that’s when he realized that we had him."

We talked for a while longer, going over our individual days. Then it was time for a reality check. "Jasmine, you realize this is going to change everything for us, don’t you?"

"What do you mean?"

"First, we’re going to have to move. We can’t afford this apartment any longer."

"We can’t? I’m still working. I’ve got money."

"Jasmine, do you know what this apartment costs?"

"No."

"More than you make, Sweetie. Also, I’m not ever going to find another job in this city."

"I thought you’re contract with Pearson handled that. He won’t disbar you, will he?"

"No, but he will black list me."

"But you have you’re contract, you can make him stop."

I just shook my head. Jasmine really was naíve. "Sweetie, I’ll never know it. He’ll talk to people behind my back and there will be no trail. I’ll be stopped from working and I’ll never know why."

"Can he do that? Will he?"

"Most assuredly."

"So what can you do, Karen?" Jasmine was sincerely worried.

"I have to leave Chicago. I have to go some where else and start over."

"Where? And what will you do?"

"I’ve been thinking about going to Wisconsin, Milwaukee. And what? I’ve always wanted to have my own law office. Kind of like Tara. But the problem is, I’m going to need a secretary and paralegal. Plus I’m going to need an office and office equipment. I don’t have any money. In fact, I’m still $30,000 in debt thanks to my school loans. I’m not sure what I can do."

"I do," Jasmine said. "I know where you can get a really good secretary and paralegal for almost nothing." She smiled at me and I returned the smile.

"I’ll bet you do. Who might that be?" I was grinning.

"Probably the most beautiful transvestite that you’ve ever made love to. I’m sure she will work for you."

"Thanks," I said and I leaned over and kissed her on her soft, colored lips. "I like the flavor of your lipstick," I told her.

"I like yours too."

"But we still have a problem. Money."

"Not a problem. I’m going to win this case. And any money I win is half yours."

"No, I won’t accept that, gorgeous. I have a slightly different idea."

"What might that be, honey?"

"Would you be my partner? You put up the money, you work for me and I supply the legal shingle. Half the proceeds belong to you and half belong to me. How does that sound?"

"Um, let me think about that." She rolled her eyes, looked around the room, twiddled her thumbs and continued to ignore me.

"Well?" I asked.

"Under one condition. You’re going to be the brains behind the business, but I’m going to be the money. I want 51% of the control."

"What?" I shrieked. "Since when do you think you deserve 51% of anything?" I meant it. I was the one who had gotten her this far. If not for me, she would still be hiding in the closet.

"Since I have the money."

"If it wasn’t for me you wouldn’t have anything."

"Maybe. No, you’re right. If it wasn’t for you Jasmine would never have blossomed. But Jasmine has arrived, and it is time that she started taking care of her self. I want 51% of the control," she grinned.

"Damn it. I’ve created a monster."

"A beautiful monster, mind you."

"That’s your opinion," I said.

"No, that’s Charles’ opinion. And yours. And Tara’s. I’m beautiful and I think so and that’s that. I want 51% and you’re the boss on a day to day basis. I will address you as boss lady, ma’am, mistress and employer. I will make you coffee, type your briefs, run out for donuts and lunch, take dictation, stall or lie to clients on the phone and fuck you whenever you ask. I’ll even crawl under your desk, pull down your panties and lick your pussy while you talk to a client. But I will also own 51% of the business. Period. No further discussion." She extended her hand towards me, "Deal?"

"I didn’t mean to create a monster," I said. I shook hands.

"Great," she said. "To make it legal, you have to seal it with a kiss and then we have to consummate the deal. We can do that right now." I kissed her.

The next couple of weeks Jasmine went to work, and I started researching my new job. I went online to look for office options in Milwaukee. I checked out the competition to see if there was any lack of lawyers in Milwaukee, and as expected, they didn’t need another attorney. But that was going to be the case anywhere we went. I would just have to make a niche for myself. I made a trip or two to the city to perform my own personal reconnaissance. I checked with the local Better Business Board and the local law board. I talked with some of the local advertising agencies and tried to get a flavor of the city. And I got a listing of dates for the Wisconsin bar exam.

Jasmine’s trial was coming up and we were sure that Pearson would ask for a continuance. The normal operating procedure would be to stall as long as possible. Therefore, we were shocked when Tara called and said Pearson had made an offer. "He wants to settle out of court." Of course he does I thought. We were asking for millions, I figured he would offer a couple hundred thousand. I wasn’t wrong. He offered half a million. Not bad.

"No!"

"What? That’s half a million dollars!" I said.

"Yea, and Tara gets a third, then I pay another third for taxes and I end up with what?"

"Do the math," I said.

"I did, it’s only about $200,000."

"That’s not bad," I said. "What did you start with?"

"That’s not what counts. My answer is no! Tara, counter with $3.5 million."

Tara answered, "Jasmine, you’ve got big balls. But if you force him to trial, you might get even less."

"I know. No, I’m not going to accept. $3.5million and no less."

"You’re getting greedy Jasmine," I said.

"No I’m not. I don’t expect that much. I’m just negotiating. Maybe I’ll send him another picture."

"No!" said Tara. "That would be suicide. I’ll call him back tomorrow. You realize that it will take several days for him to respond, even if he wants to."

"I know," she said. Jasmine was adamant.

One week later, Tara called again. "Pearson had made his last and final offer. Take it or leave it. If you don’t like it, he’ll see your ass in court."

"Tough talk," Jasmine said. "How much?"

"One point seven million dollars."

"Holy shit! I’ll take it," she yelled.

"Are you sure that’s enough?" I asked.

"Let me do the math first," she grinned. She started counting on her fingers. "Somewhere around three quarter of a million after taxes. That might make me forget the son-of-a-bitches."

"If you say so," I said.

"When do I get the money?"

"It’ll take about 5 weeks before I get it," Tara said. "I’ll deposit the money in your account, minus my commission. Let’s say the middle of next month. Can you live with that?"

"We can make do," Jasmine giggled.

It took us almost 5 months before we got moved to Milwaukee. I passes my bar exam on the first try, so that was a large weight off me. As soon as Pearson agreed to the deal, Jasmine made a call to a cosmetic surgeon. She made arrangements for breast enhancement and liposuction. It took several weeks to recover, but it took only one week before she wanted to have sex. We were very careful, and stuck to digital manipulation. But she was satisfied.

Her figure was awesome. She had elected ‘C’ cup breasts. Not too big, and with her tiny waist they looked very proportional. She wasn’t a big girl and she didn’t need to be a caricature. Her figure was simple and beautiful.

After her recuperation, we started getting ready for our move to Milwaukee. We were packing boxes and preparing for the move. Jasmine wanted to have a special dinner to put an end to our Chicago life, and prepare for our next life. We went to a very upscale restaurant; Jasmine was paying. After the meal and during our dessert, Jasmine handed me an envelope.

"What’s this?" I asked.

"Open it and find out," she answered.

I opened the envelope. It contained a cashier’s check for seventy five thousand dollars. I couldn’t believe it. "What’s this for?" I asked.

"It’s for you to pay off your school debt. You helped me pay off my debts, I’m helping you," she smiled.

"But there is an extra forty five thousand dollars here."

"Well, I also owe you for back rent. And you bought groceries for both of us."

"This is amazing Jasmine. What am I supposed to do with the rest of this money?"

"You’re supposed to use it as a down payment on the partnership’s transportation vehicle."

"A car?"

"No a BMW. The head of a professional law practice should look like a winner. She should drive a car that says, ‘This law firm wins’. I think it should be a black BMW. What do you think boss lady?"

I couldn’t help but laugh.

 
 
EPILOGUE
 
 

It took us the better part of five months before we had more than three clients. Business was slow to start up, but we were getting more calls and things were starting to look positive. One Saturday morning we slept in a little longer than usual. Jasmine snuggled next to me and kissed me on the cheek. Her hand slid across my satin-smooth negligee and came to rest over my pussy. She pulled the hem up on my negligee and exposed my pussy. Her finger slid into my slit and began to caress my clitoris. My legs automatically opened and invited her into me.

Jasmine hiked up her baby-doll and rolled on top of me. She slid her little penis into me and began stroking in and out. She pulled her penis out and stroked it against my clitoris for a minute, then slid back in and continued thrusting in and out. She kissed my nose and gave it a little lick, then moved to my lips. She had morning breath, but then I was sure that I did also. It didn’t matter. My mind was centered on my erotic zones as Jasmine did an excellent job of slowly and deliberately bringing me to an arousing climax.

Jasmine collapsed on me, her firm tits pressing against my much smaller and softer breasts. We layed together for a few minutes, and then she raised her head off my shoulder and fluttered her eyelashes at me. "When are you going to propose to me?" she asked.

"Oh heavens," I said. "You silly sissy, why would I want to marry you? I get all the sex I want now. Why should I pay for something that I get free now?"

She smiled and kissed me. Her lips were very soft. "Because the free trial period is over. Maybe that’s why."

"Are you cutting me off?" I asked with a grin.

"Of course not. I would never do that. But I think its time to have a ring. Don’t you?"

"What would the arrangements be?"

"I’ll be the most loving wife that you could ever imagine. I’ll worship you, even more than I do now. I’ll be your wife and I’ll raise your, I mean our children. I’ll be your housewife if you like, or I’ll be your secretary and paralegal as now. But I do insist on wearing a beautiful gown at my wedding ceremony. And of course I want you to be in a beautiful gown also, with a tiara and flowers and long trains and veils and high heels and a huge diamond ring."

"Is that all?"

"Of course not. But we can start there and negotiate."

We married at a small ceremony three months later. Tara stood for Jasmine and my mother stood for me. We both wore beautiful dresses and had flowers in our hair. It was a double ring ceremony — two identical 3 karat rings. It was only 14 months later that we had our first child. A 10 pound 3 ounce bouncing boy. A daughter joined him two years later. One son and one daughter. Both enjoyed the softness and joy of a feminine childhood and lifestyle. We spoiled them and doted on them. They lacked for nothing and were spoiled rotten. Eventually, as adolescence approached, Jessie chose a male lifestyle with our blessings. But before he chose, he did make a beautiful daughter.

---

 

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