I am typing away at my computer in my recliner while Tina, my wife, watches TV on the couch beside me. I just got my Surface Pro 3 yesterday and the keyboard is a little louder than on my old computer, so, after a bit, she asks, “Rob, what are you click-click-clicking about so much on your computer over there?” My heart rate rapidly rises as I quickly think up a lie, “Oh, nothing really… It is just a journal I decided to start keeping for work…” She nods…accepting the statement. I don’t really ever lie to her, so she has no reason to think it is not the truth. I hate deceiving her, but I can’t let her know that I am writing the next chapter of my transgender fiction to post online—another one that outlines my deepest desires and truest fantasies…

I carefully save the document to my cloud-based folder and log off of my computer… It will now require my password to get back in. Tina is not hugely computer-literate and has her own laptop…I have her password because she hates routine maintenance chores on her computer, which I take care of for her. She, however, does not have the password to get into my computer, so my stories are safe…

We go to bed—it is still strange to me to go to bed with my wife. We have only been married for a little over a month. We only dated six months before that. I love her—I really do… I just wish that I could love her in another body…and that she would still love me…but, alas, I don’t think she has any bisexual or lesbian tendencies… Nor the desire to be wed to…a freak…of nature…

The next week goes by without any issues to speak of. In the evenings, after we both settle in, I write in ‘my journal’ and Tina either watches TV or reads a book. She is an avid reader and is currently reading this fantasy series that she is currently into. She looks over at me typing and says, “This series is just awesome. It is apparent that the author has done her homework... Even though it is fantasy—with a lot of SciFi elements—the details are rich and just, well believable…” I nod and complete typing my sentence before I say, “Yes, I am sure that writing fantasy is not as easy as it may seem. I mean, if you have experience in some things, it makes it more believable. Good fantasy is often grounded in plausible reality.” She smiles and says, “Can you get me another drink?” I smile at her and say, “Of course…it would be my pleasure to be your server tonight.” She giggles and I put my computer down to go to the kitchen—forgetting to lock it before I go; something I never do… I don’t know why I did not at that moment, but…well, I guess I just got complacent and caught up in the moment…

When I come back in from the little kitchen area, Tina is reading the draft of my newest chapter—the one where my character (me in my fantasy world) is embracing being turned into a girl… I almost drop the glass and gasp. Tina looks up at me, the obvious question in her eyes… I sigh, think really quickly, and lie….again, “OK, I wish you would not have read that… I have been writing this transgender fantasy series and posting it online… It is sort of a hobby, I guess. Frankie told me that a website that she frequents needed some authors to write some quality stories…” Frankie is my transgendered friend from high school. Tina is totally cool with her and we go out on a regular basis together. But, not even Frankie realizes that deep down I wish I could be as brave as she had been… I continue, “So, I decided to give it a try… I get quite a few hits on my stories…and a fair number of likes. A few have even suggested I try my hand at publishing on Amazon…”

Tina looks at me for a few minutes and just says, “Why wouldn’t you tell me? There is really nothing to be embarrassed about. Can I read some of your other stuff?” I sigh and say, “Of course. But remember, this is for a rather different audience than you would normally read…” I log onto the website and go to the ‘My Stories’ page. Tina looks at me and asks, “Barbie?” I just smile awkwardly and say, “Well, I wasn’t going to use my real name…” She says, “My…you have quite a list of stories here…” And she clicks on the first one.

A little over an hour later she looks up from the computer and says, “You are right, this is not my genre, but you have a real talent… How do you know so much about this, though?” I had been thinking about that question coming up over the past hour and say, “Well, you know…Frankie. I mean I picked up a few things from her transition…” It was only a half-lie. She nods slowly and says, “Well, the comments you have gotten are pretty positive… I think you could do better, though… I mean as a girl, I can tell you that the female ‘feelings’ you are expressing are not quite there… What does Frankie think of your writing?” I blush, in spite of myself, and say, “Frankie doesn’t know that I am writing these… I have kept it entirely to myself… That is also one of the reasons that I have not even attempted to do anything with Amazon… How would I have explained that…?”

Tina looks at me harshly and says, “Raymond Beauregard Boudain—you know better than to keep things from me! You can tell me anything! SO, what ELSE have you been hiding?” I shrink down a little bit and say in a very small voice, “Nothing! Nothing at all…” She gives me a hard look and shakes her head. Finally, she says, “I don’t know whether to believe you or not… Regardless…you have piqued my curiosity. You seem to have a small following that could be much bigger… If we can…educate…you in certain things, I think you could actually be a success on Amazon and make us some money. What do you think? Would you be up to gaining some experience as a girl…to make your fantasy stories more realistic? I think it could be a tipping point for you as an author in the genre.”

I almost start hyperventilating in excitement. I pull myself together. I can’t act too eager… This is manna from heaven! I say, “I don’t know… What are you thinking? It sounds…I don’t know…embarrassing…” Tina giggles and says, “Nonsense! Are you saying I am embarrassing?” I roll my eyes; I know she is trying to manipulate me… If she only knew! I say, “No, Dear. Not at all… What did you have in mind, exactly…?”

I am so excited I am nearly ready to wet my pants. Tina misinterprets my excitement for nervousness—which is fine by me. She says, “Settle down, Hon, it is just a spa appointment. It just seemed like a good place to start. I read the chapters where your characters start…transitioning…and they just did not resonate… I think this experience will be good for you…” When she had suggested adding me on to her afternoon session at her sister’s spa, I had nearly feinted with joy… I will have to navigate this carefully, though...I can’t give them anything to get suspicious about!

My plan is to act nervous and just let Tina—and her sister, Emma—make the decisions… If I play this right, it could lead to more…and better things… To my horror and chagrin, Tina had told her sister all about my ‘hobby’. To my surprise, she had not laughed… She seemed eager to help Tina in her quest to broaden my experience to better my writing. So…I find myself stripping down to my briefs and putting on a pink satin robe with the spa’s name embroidered on it—guys just don’t come here... I pull the belt tight and finish tying it—marveling at the cool sensation of the fabric.

I walk out of the private dressing room and meet up with Tina who had changed next door to me. Emma introduces me to Susi and Rita…the girls that will be giving us our ‘experience’ for the afternoon; Tina already knows them it seems. Susi is going to be ‘my’ girl and Emma asks, “OK, ‘Barbie’, what is your pleasure today?” I blush at the name, but only because I think she is making fun of me. I shrug and say, “I have no idea… Whatever Tina is having, I guess…?”

Susi giggles and says, “OK, one platinum experience coming right up. I do have to warn you that it is a bit… over-the-top girly. Are you sure?” Tina smiles and says, “It is all in the name of research… I am sure ‘Barbie’ can handle it!” All of the girls giggle and I am led into the next room…

Over the next several hours, my skin is waxed, plucked, rubbed, buffed, and mud-packed. My natural nails, which I typically neglect, are shaped, filed, buffed, and coated in clear polish.

I am laying back in the hot, heavily scented and jetted water of the Jacuzzi next to Tina and reflecting on the events of the past couple of hours. The waxing had hurt, but I barely noticed it; I was so ecstatic (and trying not to show it). I had gasped loudly when I saw my newly shaped eyebrows—they are now feminine in every aspect of the word; highly arched and tapered to the sharpest of points. Susi had looked at me in concern and asked, “Too much? They will grow back!” I had just shaken my head and given her a ‘forced’ weak smile—in reality, I had wanted to hug her and scream!

There had been two things that did shake me a bit, though. The first was the bikini wax—Susi had just said, “Don’t be silly! It is just us girls, right? I promise you, you don’t have anything I haven’t already seen…” THAT did hurt! The other surprise was the spray tan. I did not realize what they were up to until I stood in this cabinet with nozzles in various places in the wall. I had a shower cap on…along with a disposable bikini bottom and top. Susi had just said, “OK raise your arms up—straight out from your sides… Good girl… Now stand completely still!” I nearly jumped out of my skin when the dye started coming out of the nozzles—evenly coating me and darkening me to a golden brown… Except for the now conspicuous ‘tan lines’… That one really did throw me for a bit of a loop… It is not that I typically went around shirtless…but, I was going to have to be extra careful for a while… I am sure Emma and Co. are having a good laugh at my expense on that one!

I look over at Tina in the other tub and smile. She asks over the noise of the jets, “So, what do you think?” I laugh and say, “Well, aside from the torture… It was really nice. I can see why girls get addicted to this sort of thing.” Tina giggles and says, “Well, we can certainly get you a standing booking!” I roll my eyes and quickly turn my head to hide my blush.

An hour later, we are riding back to the apartment. I know that aside from my eyebrows and my new ‘tan’ that there is nothing really visible… Well aside from my hairless arms and legs and my now perfectly manicured nails… I have a slight panic attack and Tina calms me down, “It is OK, Sweetie. Just act as if nothing has changed…I promise most people won’t notice things like the missing hair on your arms and legs…or your nails. Lots of guys get waxed these days—and get mani-pedis. And, your eyebrows? Some people might notice, but I can guarantee that if they even figure out what is different, they won’t say anything.

I sit there as Tina drives and think. I have wanted this my whole life! I need to stop panicking! I know it is only a slight reprieve of sanctioned heaven, but I need to make the most of it! I smile over at her as she pulls into our apartment complex’s parking lot. I say in a shaky voice (not put on in any way), “I guess you are right, Hon. It is just so…different! I know I have written about this a hundred times, but actually experiencing it is…” Fantastic! Exhilarating! SO, SO, SO RIGHT! “…interesting. Even the bit about the clothes is true…” She looks over at me as we get out of the car with a questioning look. I shrug and say, “With my skin hairless and softened up with all that pampering today, my clothes are…rough. I felt yours when they brushed over me as we were getting dressed…they are much softer… It is…” SO UNFAIR! “…well.. I just don’t know that I believed that it made that much difference really—until now. It makes me wonder if what they say about the hormones is true…” Tina just gives me a look and then giggles, “Oh! You are teasing me! Stop, Silly!”

We take the elevator to the tenth floor of the building and go into our small apartment. Tina says, “You write me a sample of your experience today—as if it is one of your stories—while I make us some supper. I want to see if there is a difference in your perspective and writing!” I nod and sit down at my computer while she goes to the little kitchen area. It seems really strange being able to openly write my story…

Forty minutes later, we have a simple, but exquisite dinner—Tina is an awesome cook. Normally, I would at least help with the clean-up; or just do it myself—since she cooked. Tonight, she says, “You finish your little sampler… I will clean up; then I want to read what you have…” She goes back into the little kitchen area and I hear the clanking of dishes as she washes them. I go back to my computer and put the finishing touches on my little sample-tale. I decide to stray from the genre that I typically gravitate towards; forced femme. I go there a lot, because, subconsciously, it seems like the only way to get to where I really want to get… I have locked myself into my life and will never have the courage to go there on my own… But, for this story, since I had the luxury of experiencing the day…well, in the open…I go with a sweet and sentimental beginning of the ‘journey’; a psychological girl finding her way to a physical one. One with a lot of support from friends and family… I quickly wipe a tear from my eye as I hear Tina finishing up the last of the dishes and print it out.

I hand the short printout to her as she comes in. It would constitute the first chapter in one of my normal series on the web…3000 words or less. It does not take her long to read it. When she is done, she has tears in her eyes. She looks at me and says, “Wow! And this after just one afternoon at the spa? This is so much different than your other stories… So…heartfelt… Yes, some of the detail is much better…more accurate… But, that is not the only difference… I mean…”

Suddenly she gasps and says, “O…M…G! This is you, isn’t it? I mean your fantasy… You want to be a girl!