Air Force Sweetheart TacPzlSolGp Chapter 02/34 by T. D. Aldoennetti

previously read:

Sir…. Another thing I would need to become adjusted to. No longer Sir, but Ma’am. This sex thing has me bothered though. What if I don’t like it? What if I do??? Geez, this whole thing is making my wicky wacky, sorry, it’s driving me nuts. I wish I could talk with Mom and Sis. I also need to ask the General if I may talk with them. Clearances. Yeah, they probably won’t let me talk with them because this is a secret mission. I think Mom and Sis will be okay with my change. I’m not certain I will be. It’s fun when I know I may change back, but permanently?

Admin Note: Originally published on BigCloset TopShelf by T D Aldoennetti on Friday, 10/31/2008 - 3:11 PM., Air Force Sweetheart -- TacPzlSolGp Chapter 2 is revised and reposted on Tuesday, 12/02/2009 - 7:50 PM. ~Sephrena

movin’ on:

Chapter 02

I continue thinking about the comments they made to me, surmising from what they’ve said that everyone in that waiting room has done the same sort of thing at one time or another. That was why we were selected. I still wonder how they knew? Stop that…. How they found out doesn’t matter. Whether I take them up on their offer does.

I finish lunch without really thinking about it, I’m too wrapped up in my thoughts.

It’s 1224. Still a long wait and I have a lot more to think about. I have a light beard which they will need to permanently remove. That takes time. I wonder how long we have before I need to be a married female? It must be a number of months because there will be surgery and recovery and that takes time. Of course they could rush it, but it would need to be good enough to fool doctors just in case something happens. A married Female??? That alone is scary, who needs the trips into enemy territory?

Oh God, as a woman I could be raped. Over their dead body. I’ll fight anyone tooth and nail to prevent that. Good grief, listen to me. Fighting to prevent my rape? I haven’t even made up my mind yet, and here I am thinking about how I will defend myself from a rape? I must be going off the deep end.

Then again, being married and having sex with my husband…. If he is gentle it might even be fun. What if I decide I like him and want to stay married? That could be a problem. What if I like him and can’t stay married then no one else measures up? Damn, I don’t even get to have a courtship and engagement. Just wham, slam, thank you, ma’am and we’re married. I better ask them about that, too. So many pitfalls … So many possible thrills … A possible lifetime of marriage and love … As a woman? This is scary.

This is wonderful. This is absurd.

1300, they should be back from lunch and beginning to interview other candidates once again. Let’s see, five others at say 15 or 20 minutes each that would make it about 1420 or 1430 then the second meetings with any others who are also considering this. I have some questions, but I think I might do it. It’s a heck of a change but if I survive the mission I may like the change.

Of course he said there will be three of us selected and then we will go through some sort of test before the finalist is selected. I might fail the test. I might pass the test. Damn, I don’t know which frightens me more. Geez, where does the time go?

1445. I hope they haven’t already selected the three. I just need more information and then….

"Sir? They’re ready to talk with you again, Sir. Would you come with me?"

"Et tu Brute?"

"Sir?"

"Nothing. Just nerves. Thanks, let’s go."

"Yes, Sir."

Here we have another enlisted man who probably thinks officers are a strange breed. Then again what if he’s right and we are? Listen to me. This whole thing is turning me into a babbling Theorist. I report back to that enigmatic group once again and am asked to sit.

"We have narrowed our choices down to five, Captain. If you will do it then you will likely be one of the three."

"Thank you, Sir. Could I ask a few questions before I tell you my answer?"

"Within limits. Go ahead."

"Thank you, Sir. I am concerned about having children after my surgery. I do want a family even if, or perhaps especially if, I am a female. Is it possible to save some of my sperm or could we learn if my sister would donate eggs so I may have a family which is based upon the family genetics of which I’m presently a part?

"Also, I would also like to know what my mom and sister might think about me becoming permanently female. They don’t need to know the details, just that it might happen.

"Third, after the year ends, will the marriage be annulled or would there be a divorce? Fourth, what if my husband and I like each other and we want to stay married?

"What happens then?

"Fifth, I would like a courtship and engagement however short. It… It seems kind of important to me."

Everyone is looking at each other with smiles on their faces. This concerns me and I think over my questions. They seem normal enough to me.

"Captain, those are good questions. Let me try to answer them. To answer your first and possibly second questions; Yes, we could save some of your sperm but both your sister and your mother have said they will donate eggs so you may have a family. We did go that far in telling them about your possible assignment and they are supportive but still don’t know any other details.

"Third, the marriage would be annulled. As if it never happened.

"Fourth, If you both like each other and the continued marriage would not interfere with your subsequent duties then I don’t see why you could not remain married if you both desired it. It isn’t something we had considered, but I will make a point of bringing it up.

"Fifth, I would like to allow you the time for a courtship and engagement but unfortunately that won’t work out. The husband to be, will arrive here in country in less than three weeks and his ‘wife’ will be joining him three months later. So, you see, there simply is no time.

"This next week will be spent in preparation for the test and then, if selected, you go to the States for the operations. That will allow only a week for your courtship and engagement before you are in the hospital recovering from surgery. That would depend upon you becoming the one we select, of course."

"I understand, Sir. Could I at least meet him once or twice before the surgery, or possibly during the first week in the hospital? That might help me to recognize him before suddenly going to meet a total stranger. I mean, wouldn’t it appear a little strange not to be able to recognize my own husband out of a group when we have supposedly been dating and married for a while."

The General looks at the civilians and they all come to some silent understanding, "I think that could be arranged, Captain. Perhaps a day or two during the start of the recovery in the hospital. If you are the one selected. And I think we could provide photos to be studied so recognition would not be so much of a problem."

"Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir." I take a deep breath and wish I had a year to continue to consider this, "Sir, I wish to volunteer for this duty."

"Thank you, Captain. We still need to talk again to the other four, but if their questions don’t add up as well as yours, then I’d say you are definitely one of the three finalists. We’ll get back to you. Would you return to your room again while we talk with the others?"

"Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir."

Even before I close the door behind me I hear them all beginning to talk about my questions. I may have just shot myself in the foot. Should have just kept my mouth shut and told them I would do it.

I’m back in my waiting room and it is 1500. If everyone takes the time that I did then by 1630 I should have an answer, good or bad. Or is that bad or good? Geez, I don’t know which I want more. The assignment and becoming a woman or just to go back to my job and forget it all. I pace back and forth looking at my watch about every three minutes. I’m getting to be a mess. You’d think I’m married and my wife is about to have a baby. Geez, you’d think I’m going to have the baby.

1522, time is moving in slow motion. I could use a drink. No, not alcohol, Pepsi.

I poke my head out into the hall and almost immediately there is an MP in front of me.

"Sir, I’m sorry but you are not allowed out of the room."

"Not a problem. I just wanted to know if I could have a Pepsi?"

He smiles, "No sweat, Sir. It may be a few minutes. I can’t leave my post, but I’ll call and let them know."

"Thanks, I appreciate it." I pull my head back into the room and close the door. I don’t hear it lock so I guess I’m okay.

About fifteen minutes later there is a knock and a cold Pepsi is delivered. I pay the club’s usual exorbitant fee for a glass of Pepsi, and retreat into my room again.

Time is moving a little faster now, it is 1602, so I should hear something any minute. My anxiety level is increasing. The longer it takes the more I am certain they have not selected me and the more unhappy but relieved I become.

By 1635 I am resigned to having lost the opportunity. Oh well, I would have enjoyed the chance to make it to the test. I think that is what disturbs me most.

Not that I lost the opportunity to become female but I lost the opportunity to play the part in a test and to show them how feminine I may be without winding up in the stockade or worse.

1650, almost an hour past the time I thought it would take. Maybe they forgot about me, they found their women and just forgot to tell me to go back to my unit.

1720, Geez, it’s suppertime and still there is no one. I poke my head out into the hall again to see another MP. "Sergeant? Did they forget about me?"

"Sir?"

"I expected to go back into the briefing about 1600, it’s now," looking at my watch, "1723, time for supper and they haven’t asked me to return. Are they still having the meeting this late?"

"I don’t know, Sir. If you are part of the group here in these rooms then I’d say they have forgotten about four of you. I’ll try to learn what’s going on and let you know, Sir."

"Thanks. What about supper? Not that I’m hungry, but I would like something to eat because I may be too late for supper by the time I return to my unit."

"I’ll find out about that too, Sir."

"Thanks."

I pull my head back into the room and close the door a second time. Four of us?

That’s everyone. I wonder what they could be doing? Maybe they were called away for some problem and intend to get back to us. Supper arrives about 1755.

Ten minutes later there is another knock and the MP opens the door.

"Sir, the meeting is going long. They expect it may last until nearly 2200 at the rate it’s going. They send their apologies, Sir."

"Thanks. I was hoping they hadn’t forgotten me."

"You’re welcome, Sir. There are only three of you left here now, Sir. They are talking to one of you at the moment. May I ask what’s going on, Sir? This is a little weird."

"You’re telling me? I agree with you completely, this isn’t just a little weird, it’s a lot weird."

The MP smiles and chuckles that a Captain could be so personable and who is in complete agreement with him. He realizes that is all the answer he is going to get and pulls back out of the doorway closing the door leaving me to think some more.

About 1850 I walk out into the hall and ask about a latrine.

For the ladies out there, that’s a REALLY messed up powder room. You don’t ever want to see one. This whole thing is making me think differently. I would much rather have visited a powder room. He directs me down a few doors where I relieve myself, wash my hands then return past him to my room/cell where I continue to wait. I thank him as I walk by.

"You’re welcome, Sir."

My mind continues to wander as I try to think about all this could mean to me.

Somewhere along the line my mind latches on to a quasi poem I remember reading once when I was a lot younger. Strange how the mind works. I haven’t thought about it for nearly fifteen years or so, now I can’t get it out of my head.

A strange poem yet somehow I understand. A knock occurs upon the door and I find a different enlisted man there, also armed, who leads me back to the interview room again.

"Captain, we have been speaking to the others and checking to see how well they may do. Could you demonstrate some female mannerisms for us so we may have an indication of your ability?"

"Like this, Sir? I don’t think I can, Sir. It…, It’s like a switch, Sir. Dressed like this I don’t know if I could force it. If I were completely made up as a female then it would be natural for me. Couldn’t you let me try it like that? I think you’ll see what I mean then."

A short quiet discussion commences, "The others didn’t seem to have a problem with this request."

"Sorry, Sir. I can’t help it. That’s the way I am. Somehow everything changes when I am properly clothed and made up. You should talk to Mom and Sis, they’ll tell you. I just do terribly until I look like a female and then I can’t make myself use male mannerisms."

Again a short discussion commences.

"All right, Captain. We’ll decide tomorrow after you have the chance look female.

To make it more impartial you will be given the opportunity to mix as a female with other women and we will then see how you do while with them."

"Fair enough, Sir. Thank you for the opportunity."

"Don’t thank us yet. In fact, this whole thing could become pretty bad for you if you are selected and are ever found out."

Each of the potential candidates is removed from the area separately so we don’t see each other. I am taken to a hotel where I am stripped and measured so clothing may be obtained. A few things are rapidly forthcoming and I check out the make up, which is dismal. I ask for a number of other items, including specific makeup, none of which rapidly appears.

Sleeping at the hotel that night, the following morning after breakfast I return to my room and putter around waiting for things to show up so I may prepare myself.

The dress arrives about eight but the rest of the makeup and other stuff isn’t delivered until nearly nine. The dress looks like it was selected for a rhinoceros, why take my measurements if not to use them?

I scramble to take a scented bath and shave even closer. No wig has appeared as yet. They want me to look good then give me no support. Figures. It’s like I’m being set up to fail. Around 1100 the phone rings and it sounds like the General.

He wants to know if I’m ready. I tell him no and I tell him why. He sounds like he wants to chew steel. He thanks me and says I will have everything I need in short order.

1320 rolls around and there is an urgent knocking at the door. I am in my uniform again so I answer it to find them delivering a number of nondescript packages which, after they have gone their way and I lock the door once more, I inspect to discover most of the supplies I requested including several styles and colours of wigs.

The phone rings again about fifteen minutes later. Again the General and again I tell him about the problems. The wigs are not my size. The make up looks like it is for a street walker and is not what I itemized. There is no perfume, an important part of a woman’s wardrobe. And the second dress still looks like a sack. I tell him that if this is all the better they can do to provide for someone who is about to put their life on the line in an attempt to help them, then I want no part of it, "Thank you for the wonderful opportunity, Sir, but I’m out of here."

"Hold it, Mister," he nearly screams back at me, "I’ll be right up."

Now I envision myself headed for a stockade for insubordination. Minutes later there is a pounding at the door. I open it before it may be driven from its hinges to find the General standing there. "Please come in," I say to him and nearly curtsey but catch myself before I look silly.

His eyebrow goes up, "Say that again."

"What? Please come in?" He develops a strange look on his face but enters and I close the door behind him.

Then it hits me, I’m now in female mode. The clothes, makeup and intent have triggered me and I’m using female mannerisms and my voice is back up to normal rather than the forced tone I use as a male. I consciously make the change back to male, it’s an effort.

"Let me see this stuff they delivered."

I show him the cosmetics, explaining why they are wrong and the kind of look they would provide.

"Sir, if I didn’t know better, I would say someone wants me to fail, or else they don’t know the difference between a Lady and a whore." I explain to him, "Since I am not nor do I ever intend to be a whore, these clothes, wigs and makeup are inappropriate."

The General agrees and asks me to come with him. We go down where he chews a few b---- before we go out shopping. The selection isn’t very good. I select a dress, a nice skirt and a blouse then carefully go through the dismal selection of cosmetics available.

Whoever did the buying to stock this stuff obviously doesn’t know anything about women’s makeup.

I also point out to him the differences in hair styles present on the wives of the higher ranking officers and those of the street walkers. Also the changes in style based upon the age and shape of the individual. He is beginning to understand the differences. We finally wind up on the local economy trying to find things which will both fit and look appropriate.

I ask him the nature of the test, "Where is it to take place, Sir? Is it somewhere I may wear a dress or should I wear a skirt and blouse? The clothing matters and is dependant upon the specific conditions of the test itself. If it is formal then a gown is in order. Jewelry too, since a woman would wear nice jewelry to a formal occasion."

He thinks about that as I am looking at silk blouses selecting one which will double for a number of occasions and summarily rejecting the one I have been carrying. This one is fancy enough for dinner, but good for daytime wear. It’s difficult when a few things must suffice for dozens of different possible applications. I need to know more about the nature of the test so I may narrow the selections. Why purchase stuff that won’t be used?

"Captain, the test will be in a formal setting and, yes, a gown would be in order.

Jewelry, too, if we may find something which isn’t too expensive around here."

"Then, Sir, the first order of business is to find the gown and matching shoes and purse or clutch. After that we may look at jewelry. This skirt and blouse are good enough for a few daytime uses. I’ll need shoes to wear with this as well. Probably heels for both this and the gown, but not too high, so I am able to walk or dance if it is called for."

We waste about two hours of the general’s time which surprises me no end. He seems to be enjoying himself and he is obtaining an education into a woman’s needs. He even purchases a few things for his wife’s birthday while we are out, putting his new found knowledge into practice.

The Army, courtesy of the General, pays for the things I have selected but I still have no wig or breast forms. He tells me he will take care of that even if he has to throw half his staff in the stockade.

"Sir, the wig can’t just be the right style, it must fit properly. The measurements of my head matter in the choice of the wig."

"Son, you…. That is…, Lady, I think you may have the job sewn up. The others just put on what they were provided and they looked moderately okay but weren’t convincing. You know a lot about how to prepare your appearance and what image you want to project. I’m going to hang onto the others but I very much want to see your finished product. I think you will look a lot better than they have a hope of ever accomplishing."

"Thank you, Sir. I’m not going to put on anything though, unless I have a wig to go with it. I need a wig which fits my measurements and is long enough to fall to the bottom of my shoulder blades or further, be capable of being placed up into a French roll or in a ponytail and in a light to medium brown would be best for me.

I don’t know how you could get one here before the day of the test you talked about. I need breast forms too. Everything must conform to the measurements and colour information I gave you."

"You leave that to me. Are you certain everything you have now will work?"

"Yes, Sir. If I am selected, then the first week I am stateside I will need to obtain proper cosmetics, a lot of cosmetics since they are unavailable here. I will also obtain more current clothing. A woman wouldn’t come over here without clothes to wear. Nor would she want to look like a streetwalker. After all, I will have an image to uphold, not just as a woman, but as a representative of the United States and a lady."

He thinks about that, "All right. I’ll have your wig and the breast forms here in short order, probably two days, maybe three. That is time enough before the test. You practice and if you are selected then I’ll see you get a $5000 allowance for clothes. Do you think that will be enough?"

"I don’t know, Sir. If there are to be Embassy functions or other formal occasions then I may need a bit more. A woman doesn’t wear the same gown nor the same jewelry to every formal occasion. Think about your wife, Sir."

He purses his lips as his head slowly rises up and down once while he considers my statement then begins to shake a little more rapidly as he agrees with what I have just said.

"All right, $10,000. But I would expect you to appear to be a lady at all times, and not just a female."

"Yes, Sir. I wouldn’t want to be anything less."

I let him out of the room and lock the door once again. I think about the ‘crash’ course I just gave him into understanding some of a woman’s needs. He seems to be taking it well. This little project appears to have been initiated without anyone giving any consideration as to the necessities a woman might have.

Necessities such as a $275 wig versus a $20 wig and the phenomenal difference in appearance it offers. Well, if they are considering forcing a permanent change in sex then they need to consider the necessity of everything else which makes up the overall appearance. There is a knock at the door. I open it and find the General again.

"I forgot my wife’s birthday presents. They’re mixed in with the other stuff."

We unpack the things we brought back and find his purchases. I give him one of the carrying bags since I won’t be carrying the other stuff around town any longer.

He shakes my hand, "Thanks for the lessons. Now when Julie needs something I’ll understand a bit better. I may call on your expertise again."

I smile, "You’re welcome, Sir."

He leaves again and I sort everything, putting it away. The clothes I leave out for the moment. I still wonder how he found the time to just go shopping. I begin trying on the clothes we purchased. Everything is great except the gown, and that will be okay once the breast forms arrive. I checked my colour using the cosmetics and gave him a cosmetic colour for the breast forms which is only a little off from my own. I find it interesting that he is willing to spend nearly $1000 for clothes, wig, cosmetics, breast forms and jewelry just for a test.

I think I may have this mission sewn up. Pride wells up as I think about that possibility and it is followed in seconds by panic at the thought that, yes, I might indeed have this mission sewn up. I wish I could talk with Mom and Sis.

Sitting down at the low table which doubled as a vanity, looking into the mirror on the wall behind it, I think about how the gown fits and about the makeup I selected. I tried to find a gown and other clothing in colours which were close, based upon the selection of cosmetics available. Not exactly the right way of doing things. Geez, just finding a gown over here was a chore; glad I’m so thin.

Checking out my cosmetics and brushes, the colour selections available aren’t great, finding the brushes was a challenge too. Once I’m in the States I’ll need to buy enough proper cosmetics to last me at least six months. I will need perfume as well. General Pendleton will never recognize me once I have proper clothes, make-up, wig and breast forms. Lipstick here is for the pits. The colour I settled for is a little too light, but that’s better than too dark.

I put on the skirt and blouse after my makeup session and then whirl myself around in front of the mirror. Not bad, not bad at all, good even…. I could look a lot better with a good wig that actually fits me and is in a complementary colour.

I hope the General doesn’t run into too much opposition to the purchase of the wig and breast forms I specified. I told him where they could be purchased and exactly the colours needed so there is a chance, unless some bean counter decides another colour is cheaper. That would be just great, I can see it all now, a white chest with brown breasts and a fire engine red plastic wig to match my hazel eyes.

I slip on the lavender pumps and practice walking. It isn’t easy. A number of years have gone by but with a day or two of practice I think I’ll manage. They feel quite good so I try on the black ones and walk around in them a while. They’re okay too. The colour of the lavender pumps is off just a little but maybe no one will notice, the matching clutch is good though.

The pumps are almost the colour of the gown, and my black purse matches everything which is not formal.

I begin to worry about my legs and haven’t thought about how much they may have changed. As I walk around in front of the mirror, I lift the skirt a little and glance back at my legs from as many angles as possible. Not bad. I may even be able to entice my husband into bed with this outfit. What am I saying?

Of course, he may be the kind of man who likes to see his wife in a formal gown.

I finally remember my eyebrows and go over to the vanity. I check them out, wincing a bit, then do a little judicious plucking. Better. Maybe a little more here… and there… and there…. Good! Wish I had just a slightly darker shade of lipstick. This shade looks just a little too young for me, it will probably annoy me until I can find another shade. Maybe I could put on some that’s a bit too dark and then cover it a little with this lighter shade…. Oh, great. Well, another bright idea down the drain.

To Be Continued…       © 2008, 2009 by T D Aldoennetti & Rènae Dùmas. This work may not be replicated or presented in whole or in part by any means electronic or otherwise without the express consent of the Author (copyright holder) or her assigned representative. ALL Rights Reserved, including but not limited to ownership of Characters, final content decision, and more. This is a work of Fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional and any resemblance to real people or incidents past, present or future is purely coincidental. An Aldoennetti Original.