Whoops Payback
By Marina Kelly

For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. This is a story about the aftermath of a wife's conduct toward her husband continuing my story 'Whoops'.

This story was previously posted on FM; but has been heavily edited and rewritten, thanks to the creative mind of Monica Rose. The ending is a drastic change from my last version.

Marina J

@ @ @ @

Carol had just arrived home from her office, poured two glasses of Phil's favorite white wine, and waited for her husband's return from work. Lost in her melancholy, Carol lamented her rash actions for the thousandth time, which had put such a strain on their marriage. 'Oh why hadn't I simply talked to Phil when I found all those female clothes?'

Halfway through her wine Carol began to relax and realized, at least in the professional sense, things had gone way better than she could have hoped for. Dr. Phyllis had rapidly developed an almost cult like following among San Francisco's transgender community, known as the psychologist with the bodacious boobs. Carol had offered to reduce the size of his implants, but Phyllis declined for now. They had become his trademark, and were partially responsible for the long waiting list of clients. Ignoring the potential ethical conflicts of nepotism, Phyllis had even referred several of her transgender patients to Carol's office for cosmetic surgery.

Unfortunately at home, things had not gone as well. Phil told Carol that he forgave her; but he could not forget her lack of faith in him. He remained a real gloomy Gus. Carol had tried everything from sex to booze to lift his spirits. So far nothing had worked. Carol sipped her drink and let her mind wander, and tried to think outside the box, contemplated various scenarios to revive their relationship. She ran a range of ideas through her imagination. 'Let me see, every man's fantasy is a three way - no that would raise the thorny issue of who to invite. If we invited a man I would be left out. There is no way I could compete with her body. Maybe just some role playing, hmmm that has possibilities. Perhaps we could take a romantic vacation; I would love to see Phyllis in a bikini. As Carol mentally visualized her husband frolicking in the surf wearing only an 'itsy bitsy, teeny weenie yellow polka dot bikini,' a broad smile broke out across her face. Carol chuckled, "With Phyllis's body it would have to be special ordered of course.

This all brought Carol back full circle to reality. Carol's first attempt at sex with her feminized husband had been an unmitigated disaster. Phyllis had initially rejected Carol's overtures outright. Burdened with a great deal of guilt, Carol spent an inordinate amount of time planning and seducing her feminized husband. She knew she had to do something, and was fearful that one day Phyllis might lose interest in her as a sexual partner altogether. Intimacy was only consummated when Carol was the aggressor, and eventually he gave in to her persistent advances.

Alas, conventional intercourse proved impossible as Phil's little man would swell; but wouldn't remain firm enough for penetration. On the positive side, the couple rediscovered the joys of oral sex. His penis was still sensitive and with the right stimulation Carol was able to give Phyllis a modicum of pleasure. Her medical books assured her castrated men were fully capable of having erections; there are documented cases of them achieving an orgasm.

Carol laid her head on the back of the couch and let her mind wander, attempting to escape the nightmare of her life. She concentrated on the memories of her recent successes in the bedroom. At the offer of sex, Phyllis would feign indifference and put up token resistance. However once Carol got him into bed and started sucking and licking his erogenous zones, his walls of inhibitions crumbled like a sandcastle hit by a wave. Carol took pride in her seduction prowess. Hers, and as it turns out his, preferred foreplay was when Carol would work on his hypersensitive nipples, she could get him to squirm and moan like a bitch in heat. For those brief few minutes by alternating between Phyllis's three pleasure points Carol was able to let her husband relax and enjoy his new status of a man with tits. Carol was able to give her lover satisfaction, albeit short of a sperm spouting climax, but still it provided a form of sexual release he had been without for so long. After her sessions of fellatio, Phyllis would reciprocate; however Carol was aware his heart wasn't in it. She perceived it was performed more out of a sense of duty than enjoyment.

The sound of a car pulling into the driveway broke Carol out of her trance. She jumped up, her hormones raging and almost knocked over the glass of wine perched on the coffee table. Rushing to greet her hubby at the front door Carol glanced through the window treatments hanging on the bay window. Her heart sank as she realized that the car was not theirs. Rather the shiny new BMW parked in the driveway belonged to her ex-best friend, Sue.

Carol answered the door and swung it partially open, and unenthusiastically inquired, "Yes, what is it?

"Can I come in?"

Carol shrugged and replied, "Sure, where's your partner in crime?"

Sue nonchalantly dropped the bomb, "Oh Chris, he's gone."

A stunned Carol threw the door open and pulled Sue into her house. "OMG, what happened?"

Gesturing towards Carol she announced, "You guys 'happened'. I blame Chris for this entire mix-up. If he had been 'man' enough to tell me he was really a 'woman', none of this would have come about. I was so mad at him. I wanted to cut his nuts off and feed them back to him in a casserole."

"You wouldn't!"

Laughing Sue said, "No of course not, all that blood would be too hard to clean up; but it was an option for a while."

"Carol, what hurt me the worst was his actions destroyed our friendship. The bastard is paying for that, I promise. I have been so concerned about you...and Phil too of course."

Carol engulfed Sue in a sisterly embrace and tried to comfort her. After a brief pause Carol said. "Sure I was angry, but I don't blame you. I do blame Chris a little. After I calmed down it became clear, the fault was entirely mine, I was a total idiot. It was too easy to believe I was the victim, another deceived wife. I became so self-absorbed in feeling sorry for myself I lost all perspective. It was so simple to jump to conclusions, and to believe the worst about Phil."

The two women shared an emotional moment. Sue inquired, "Are we still friends? I haven't heard from you since that day."

Carol responded by hugging her friend as firmly as she could. The tears in her eyes clouded her vision but she still noticed the slightest of movements in the porch shadows. "Sue is someone with you?"

Sue let go of her friend and took a small step back. She turned towards the open doorway and said, "Oh my, where are my manners. Carol I would like you to meet my new housekeeper, I brought along me so I could introduce her to you and Phil. Chrissie get your ass in here!"

In walked a tall, plain looking woman wearing a red long sleeve maxi dress, that was set off nicely with her short brown curly hair and long dangly earrings that lightly grazed the top of her broad shoulders. Carol's first impression was this woman lacked self-confidence; she moved with a strained gate and wore way too much makeup and had a diminutive bosom for such a large woman.

Carol stared at her new houseguest, her head on a swivel as she looked from Sue and then to Chrissie and back again. Suddenly she had an epiphany. In amazement she said, "Sue, I thought you said that Chris was gone, if I am wrong this is going to be terribly embarrassing; but isn't this your husband?"

Sue let out a belly laugh and looked Chrissie in the face and said, "Oh heavens no. I no longer have a husband. Do I Chrissie?"

Chrissie stuttered out the response, "N...No Ma'am, you...your husband no longer exists. He has been replaced with me, your devoted and faithful attendant."

Carol raised a cocked eyebrow and stared at Chrissie, half expecting to see a curtsy. But instead she observed a woman with an enigmatic grin who stood perfectly still, her shoulders back, and hands demurely crossed in front.

"Sue, what the hell is going on?"

"Alright, if I have to spell it out for you I will. As you found out Chris is a transsexual and has wanted to live his life as a woman. I have simply given him that opportunity. We had a long talk and realized we still love each other so we decided to stay together, just not as husband and wife. Chrissie is now my boarder, has her own room - in the basement and pays me rent; but as a punishment for her keeping secrets, she volunteered to become my permanent housekeeper. She goes to her law office during the day and comes home at night. After her household chores are completed she transitions into my friend/companion, and on some special nights, my concubine. She really has a very talented tongue. I am thinking about renting her out."

Chrissie shifted nervously back and forth on his feet and turned a deep crimson red from embarrassment; but remained silent.

Carol's hand flew to her face in disbelief as she proclaimed, "Oh my God! That means my actions have destroyed two marriages!"

"No dear," Sue gestured towards Chrissie, "Our relationship was doomed for a long time. Chris keeping his secret was like the sword of Damocles hanging over our marriage. It was only a matter of time until it fell. So please don't feel responsible for anything that has happened between us. In fact, I believe we are happier now than at any time in our marriage."

Chrissie smiled and nodded his head almost indiscernibly in agreement.

Carol looked at the wine glasses on the table and said, "I am a terrible hostess. Here Sue take this one, I will get another glass for Chris."

Sue took a sip and said, "This is excellent."

Carol started for the kitchen and said, "Yes it is a German wine, Liebfraumilch I believe it is called. Phil never cared for wine, but it has become Phyllis's favorite. There are several more bottles in the refrigerator. Let me go get a bottle."

Sue stopped Carol in her tracks with, "Don't bother with anything for Chrissie. She isn't thirsty right now!"

Chrissie waved his hand as if to say yea, she's right.

"Excuse me, I believe I hear, Phyllis' car now. We can all sit down and talk this thing through."

"Well if that is what you want, but I had hoped to take everyone out to dinner. I've made dinner reservations for four at the new club on State Avenue."

At that moment Phyllis walked through the open door, totally distracted his head down as he was busily texting on his phone. He glanced into the room and only acknowledged his guests with a mere nod. Without a word he headed straight to the bedroom. The rhythmic clicking of his heels on the hardwood floor resonated through the room, and was ended by the gentle closing of the door.

Carol took a large gulp from her glass and apologized for the cool reception and began to weep. "Well at least he didn't slam the door this time. I am so sorry; he has become such a curmudgeon and a total hermit. He goes to work and spends his nights pouting in our bedroom."

A concerned Sue reached for Carol's hands and said, "It's alright, we can make it another night."

"No, please I would love to go out tonight, I am going stir crazy. Aside from work I haven't been out of the house since that fateful day."

Chrissie set his purse on the couch and stood up and walked toward the closed bedroom door. Over his shoulder, he said, "As a lawyer I have always had a gift for oral persuasion; let me give it a try."

Carol shrugged her shoulders in consent. She and Sue sat in the living room, and drank wine and waited the outcome of the bedroom summit. They waited, 10, 20, 30, minutes and still nothing. Just as Carol was about to go find out what was going on, the bedroom door opened and the two 'ladies' walked into the room shoulder to shoulder. Both Carol and Sue did a double take as their husbands were holding hands. Phyllis had changed outfits and was now dressed in a pink scarf-type blouse and subtle pink and gray plaid tulip skirt, his outfit was completed with white three inch open toe wedge sandals. Without making eye contact, Chrissie walked to his purse and took out his lipstick and compact and proceeded to repair his lips.

Phyllis was two steps behind and said, "Carol I can't possibly go out looking like this. Have you seen my lip-gloss? Mine seems to have worn off." At which point Phyllis and Chrissie glanced at each other and giggled in unison.

Sue leaned into Carol and whispered, "What the hell happened in there?"

"I have no idea, I am not sure I want to know. Let's get out of here before they change their minds."

Sue glanced at her watch and walked to the front door with a "Come on ladies, it's time to go, let's party."

Phyllis walked over to Chrissie, took his hand and led him to the front door.

Carol trailed as she locked the door. As she turned to join the group she was shocked to see Chrissie and Phyllis walking side by side with Chrissie's hand resting on her husband's right buttocks.

Sue drove with Carol joining her in the front seat. Phyllis and Chrissie slipped into the backseat and snuggled together. The drive to the restaurant was uneventful except for an occasional tittering chuckle from the rear. At one point Carol turned to investigate the commotion and caught a glimpse of Chrissie with his hand on Phyllis's happy area. Catching Carol's eye, Chrissie gave her a dramatic theatrical wink and calmly moved his hand back to his own lap.

The restaurant lobby was crowded with guests milling around waiting for a table. Sue confidently bullied her way through the throng to the receptionist's stand and announced their arrival. As the hostess checked her reservation list, Sue subtly slipped her a twenty dollar bill. Amid a slight murmur of complaints, the foursome was seated almost immediately. The four were shown to a table on the patio overlooking a beautiful well lit Japanese garden. The ladies sat in silence mesmerized by the relaxing nature of the four tiered terracotta water fall that emptied into a fish pond full of coy. It seemed time passed in a flash, as a handsome muscular young man seemed to materialize out of nowhere near their table. All eyes turn to this Adonis as he said in a deep resonating voice, "Hello ladies let me welcome you. I am Peter. I will be your server tonight."

Then in a flirtatious manner, he added, "If there is anything you don't see on the menu that you like, just ask for it."

Sue ordered a bottle of chardonnay and an appetizer of sliced cheeses for the table. Carol and Phyllis each ordered the halibut special, Sue ordered a petite steak, medium well and told the waiter Chrissie would only be having a green salad with the dressing on the side, commenting, "She's on a very strict diet. Isn't that right Chrissie?"

Chrissie replied, "Yes ma'am." Then he quietly murmured to his table mates, "My protein intake is monitored very closely."

With a knowing smile Chrissie reached out and laid his hand on Phyllis's hand and gave it a slight squeeze. With a wink at Phyllis he continued with, "However, I do cheat on that occasionally. Man does not live by bread alone. He occasionally needs a little meat."

As the waiter left, Phyllis shocked everyone with the offhanded comment. "Girls, get a look at those buns of steel. He could crush a walnut with that ass."

Carol, Sue and Chrissie about got whiplash whirling the heads to the direction Phyllis was looking. Then everyone looked at Phyllis who was grinning like a Cheshire cat and responded, "What? I was just making an observation."

This produced spontaneous laughter from all four, which was loud enough to attract the attention of several adjoining tables. Regaining their composure, the ladies quieted down and waited for the main course to be served. In low conspiratorial tones, they passed the time by taking turns rating the asses of the various waiters that fluttered around the room. In a unanimous decision Peter's was rated 'best of show.' During a lull in the game, Sue said, "Carol, Chrissie has something important to ask you. Go on dear, now is as good a time as any."

Chrissie took a deep breath and stared at the napkin in his lap with his scarlet painted lips trembling, and said, "Carol as of last month Phyllis is my psychologist and has given me permission to officially begin my transition. I feel terrible about the trouble I have caused the two of you. The question I want to ask is: would you consider doing my cosmetic surgery?"

"Of course I will, when the time is right." Carol put her hand on Chrissie's jaw and turned it to get a better perspective. She said, "You have great bone structure and a lot of potential to be pretty. Exactly what kind of look are you going for?"

Chrissie broke into get sobs and tears drifted down his cheeks.

Chrissie used his napkin to dry his eyes and accidently smeared his mascara so that he looked like he had a raccoon mask on. Everyone at the table refrained from commenting realizing it wouldn't help. Between blubbers Chrissie managed, "I have no right to request your help; but please I just want so much to look like Phyllis." He brought his hands up to his small breasts and went on, "I am so jealous of her figure. Could you do the same for me? I can't wait to have a chest like hers that has been my life's dream."

Carol was dismayed, "Chrissie you need to really think about that decision. What I did to Phil was a terrible mistake. If you want to live your life as a normal woman you really should have something more proportional to your body frame."

Sue reached over and patted her husband's hand, "Now, now sweetie, don't cry; it will be alright."

Then a slightly sarcastic tone added, "We will find some way to get you the great big boobies you want."

She lowered her voice so that it only carried to Phyllis and said, "I need to speak to Carol. Could you take Chrissie to the powder room and help repair her face?"

The two headed for the powder room again holding hands. As the two got out of earshot Sue spoke, "She is so emotional now that the hormones have kicked in."

"Sue, if your husband has just begun seeing Phyllis they should not have that much of an impact already."

"I know, I probably shouldn't tell you this but I have been feeding him my birth control pills for weeks and weeks and I made a copy of the hormone script Chris brought home and had it filled at two different locations. I have been feeding him a double dose every day."

"You idiot, do you know what could happen? He must be monitored very closely. The side effects can be deadly."

"I know that is why I am telling you. I still love him and don't want anything bad to happen. I am just impatient for the process to show results."

Carol leaned toward her friend and asked, "How far does he intend to take this?"

"Right now he only wants to appear more feminine. But, what he wants is irrelevant. I intend for him to go all the way. Mark my words, when the time comes he will be begging for a pussy."

An incredulous Carol asked, "You want him to be a complete woman?"

"As far as I know, he doesn't like men, so making him into a woman is sweet justice."

Carol thought about what she had seen tonight and questioned her friend's observations and began to wonder about her own husband.

"As a woman, he'll be a lesbian and will have to stay with me forever.

His living 24/7 as a woman started today. Chrissie had her first day at work in skirts. That is one of the reasons she is so emotional. She was read as a man and had several verbal confrontations, one at work with a co-worker and one with a total stranger during the train ride home."

@ @ @ @

Meanwhile in the confines of the little girls' room the two former men had a good laugh. Phil asked his friend Chris, "Do you think they are buying our little act?"

"I think so, how far do you want to take this charade Chris?"

Chris contemplated the question and responded, "I don't normally make out on a first date, but this is special. How about a passionate goodbye kiss when we drop you off at home?"

Phil gave it a moment's thought then nodded his consent.

Chirs asked, "I have a personal question, can I ask it?"

"Of course Chris go right ahead."

"You know Sue and I don't have any children, if this goes where Sue intends we never will. You can't have children. Does it bother you? I have been giving the subject a lot of thought. Someday I might want to be a father." Then, smiling, he added, "Or if I am really lucky even a mother. Just the thought of some little rug rat calling me mommy gives me goose bumps."

Phil looked his friend right in the eye. "Can you keep a secret?"

"Let me see, I kept my cross dressing a secret for 20 years, so I can safely say yes."

"Chris, I may already be a daddy."

"What, you cheated on Carol!"

"I would never do that, I love her too much. When I was in college I needed extra cash, so I frequently sold my sperm to the local fertility clinic. As far as I know there may be dozens of little Phil's running around. If Carol and I ever decide to have children we can always have a turkey baster baby.

"What I am suggesting to you is while you can, save a few of your swimmers in case things change for you in the future. I still have the name and address of the fertility clinic; I will email them to you. I am sure they will put them in deepfreeze for you.

@ @ @ @

Carol tried to digest Sue's statements when Sue cheerfully announced, "Here come the girls now, forget this little incident and try and enjoy the rest of our evening. Maybe we could even pick up a couple of guys."

Carol gasped, "Are you crazy? As a married woman, I will never cheat on my husband; it is out of the question!"

"Oh, Carol, don't be an old stick in the mud. Sixty five percent of wives cheat on their husbands at one time or another, so don't go getting all goody two shoes on me. I have already started bringing men home to get Chrissie accustomed to the idea. I haven't taken any to my bed yet, but that will come."

Carol gave the idea of fucking a real man a passing thought. She was a young woman with needs, but the thought of cheating on her husband was too disturbing to contemplate. She took her marriage vows seriously and would never violate them. This brief interlude reminded Carol of the intimacy in her marriage that she had cost herself. It played on her mind and thoroughly depressed her.

Sue anxiously awaited her response. Carol turned to her friend and said, "I will never have sex again, if I can't have it with Phil."

Sue mocked her friend's response and said, "Honey, unless I'm going blind I don't see any Phil, only a bombshell of a she male called Phyllis."

"Sue, don't talk like that, Phil is still there. I admit the chassis has been radically altered; but I refuse to accept that I have destroyed the essence that once was my husband — he's still in there."

The rest of the evening was a disappointment. No one felt in the party mood.

Sue dropped off Carol and Phyllis at their home. Carol was dismayed, when her husband, hugged Sue goodnight and gave Chrissie a lingering obviously passionate kiss on the lips. While they were lip locked, Chrissie's hand again almost nonchalantly slid down until it ended up firmly cupping Phyllis's buttock cheeks.

Carol chased Phyllis down and wanted to talk about the evening but Phyllis refused to discuss the issue and went directly to bed.

@ @ @ @

It was exactly a week later; Carol had a terrible premonition that something bad was about to happen and spent the entire afternoon calling Phyllis on her cell phone. Every call went immediately to voicemail. Her office was no help, all the receptionist would say was the doctor was out of the office. About sundown, a chipper Phyllis bounced into the house only to find a very distressed Carol sitting on the couch working on her second glass of Scotch.

"Honey, where have you been all afternoon? I have been so worried about you; I have been calling and calling. Please tell me about your day."

Phyllis was positively bubbly, "Carol, please fix me a drink, and I will tell you everything, it has been a magical day. This morning I had a new pharmaceutical representative call on me. Bob was his name, an extremely handsome man with eyes that you could get lost in. After his very professional and persuasive pitch, he invited me out to lunch."

A very concerned Carol sipped her drink, leaned forward, and listened intently.

In a very nonchalant manner Phyllis continued. "I initially turned him down."

Carol who had been holding her breath exhaled and said, "Initially?"

"Yes dear, he was so persistent and just oozed charm. You have been pestering me about getting out more so I accepted his invitation just to make you happy. He drove us to the restaurant that is attached to his hotel."

"His hotel?" questioned Carol.

"Yes, I know that may seem a tad unprofessional. But Bob explained they have the best lunch buffet in the area. We had a delightful meal."

Then giggling said, "I am afraid we both consumed way too much wine. I knew I had too much to drink to go back to work. So I took the afternoon off and Bob talked me into spending it with him."

Phyllis looked down and rubbed a stain on her blouse then questioned, "How do you get red wine stains out?"

A very anxious Carol walked over to her husband and closely examined her blouse. Using her fingernail Carol scrapped off a crusted blob of material. "It would appear you have more than wine on your outfit. Care to explain?"

Phyllis shrugged her shoulders and coolly responded. "Oh that, I am afraid I have been a very, very bad girl. After lunch Bob, brazenly invited me back to his hotel room for dessert. I guess some dribbled there."

"You went to his room?"

"Well not exactly, it was more like a luxury suite."

Carol felt lightheaded and went and sat back on the couch. "Damn it, Phil, tell me what happened!"

"Well we got to his suite, and I followed him into his bed chamber; and lo and behold Bob had lied, there was no dessert. I just pouted as I had my heart set on something sweet and started to leave, Bob stopped me when he offered to let me a suck on his mansicle."

Carol's lower lip began to quiver as she sat and stared in amazement.

Phil licked his lips and said, "I don't understand why before all this happened, you were reluctant to give me head. I find the texture and taste to be indescribable, it was simply smoothielicious. I have been told by my clients that every man's discharge is different. I can't wait to carry out my own taste test."

Phyllis proudly continued, "Bob's virility was incredible. After I had my creamy dessert he was hard again in just a few minutes. He helped me up from my knees and lovingly laid me on the bed on my back. It was fortuitous I wore stockings and not pantyhose today. Before I knew what to make of it, he had my legs over his shoulders. He pushed aside my panties and licked my man pussy, until I thought I would pass out from the pleasure. Then he had my high heels pointed to the ceiling as he rammed that magnificent pole into me. It was pure bliss, I knew I had died and gone to heaven. Oh Carol, if a pussy feels half that good. I am going to reconsider my decision on a sex change."

Then with a silly manner Phyllis jokingly said, "What do you think, should I turn my dick into a slip and slide?"

A hysterical Carol began to sob uncontrollably and wailed, "Oh how could you do this...to me?"

Phil stood callously and watched his wife's distress. He walked over to the sofa and placed his drink down on the end table. With one finger he scooped up a tear running down Carol's face and said in a sarcastic tone, "Whoops, I'm sorry I upset you. You did ask about my day."

Grabbing his breasts, and lifting them up for emphasis he said, "You did this to me and you have the audacity to cry. Remember dear, you created this package, don't get upset just because someone found it attractive and wanted to play with it!"

Phil went and poured himself a refill, stopping only when the golden liquid threatened to overflow the glass. He stood over an obviously upset Carol, and twisted the proverbial knife. "Honey, I need to ask you a favor."

With tears dripping down her cheeks Carol looked up and replied, "What is it?"

"I was wondering if you could find someplace else to sleep. I've invited Bob over to spend the night. He knows I'm married; but having you here would be a tad bit awkward. I'm sure you can understand."

Flabbergasted at his audacity Carol wailed, "No problem, you bitch, I'll go to my mother's."

Phil turned and said, "Fine; but before you leave would you mind tiding up the place a little, it really needs a good dusting. I want to take a bath and get ready for my date."

Carol ran out of the room sobbing hysterically. Phil stood in the doorway and yelled "Won't you at least vacuum the carpet before you go? It will only take a minute."

In self-satisfaction he watched as she climbed into her car and slammed the door. Phil coldheartedly waved good-bye and closed the front door. Heading to his bedroom he thought, 'I have the whole night all to myself. After spending the entire day in that boring seminar I am looking forward to a hot bath and a good book. I probably was a little rough on her, but she deserved it. Payback is a bitch; it must really suck to be her right now. Maybe tomorrow I'll tell her there is no Bob; that I made the whole thing up. Then again, maybe I won't.'

@ @ @ @

Carol had only driven a block or two before she had to pull the car over to the curb. The tears flooding her eyes and streaming down her cheeks made it unwise for her to attempt to drive. She sniffed and collapsed into wracking sobs that seemed to go on and on. How could the man she loved treat her like this? Even as she had the thought, she reminded herself of what she had done to him. Why should she be surprised that he turned away from her for someone else? She had completely destroyed him as a person. Even now, Carol couldn't look at herself in the mirror and honestly say that all the changes she had wrought upon Phil had been because she thought that he wanted them and not because she felt angry and betrayed by him.

Eventually, she cried herself out. The tissues she carried in her purse had been used and were now sodden clumps. She used a couple of the less mangled handfuls to clean up most of the mascara that had dissolved and streaked down her face. She still looked a horror, but she would be presentable enough to face her parents. She was glad that it was just a 30 minute drive. If other drivers got a good look at her, they would wonder if she had been victim of a mugging. She certainly did not want to risk being pulled over by a police officer either. The story to explain her appearance would be too incredible and she was too mentally exhausted to make one up.

Pulling into the driveway at her parents' house, she could see that someone was home as lights were on inside. She went to the front door and knocked tentatively, but loud enough to be heard. Her mother cautiously opened the door and was appalled at her daughter's appearance.

"Come in here honey and tell me what that bastard did now."

"Mother, please, your language."

"You are right dear, I am sorry, what did that 'bitch' do to you now?

As Carol walked in and she saw her father in his favorite recliner, dressed to relax for the evening in jeans and a polo shirt. He took one look at his daughter, without saying a word he stared straight ahead at the magazine in his lap.

"Don't mind your father. He is in one of his moods. He has never gotten over the shock of what you did to your ungrateful husband."

Liz held Carols hands and lectured as if imitating her husband, "Honey, as women we generate our self-esteem from our families. Compared to men who draw theirs from what's hanging between their legs. There is nothing worse you can do, then steal a man's masculine essence from him."

"Mom, if I could undo what I did, I would. I have apologized every way I know how. I am out of ideas, I need your help."

Her father who had been eavesdropping on their conversation gave a "Harrumph." Stood up, threw down his copy of Psychology Today and went into his den and locked the door, mumbling under his breath, "It's a little late for that."

Carol related her story of woe.

Liz was totally supportive and told Carol to sleep in her old room. First thing in the morning she would drive Carol to a divorce lawyer. This prompted another round of tears. Liz got up to fix each of them a strong drink. Carol took the opportunity to go to her father's door and tapped lightly, "Daddy? Please, can we talk?"

The door opened to reveal her father. Realizing how haggard his daughter really was, he said, "Carol! Are you all right?" He was stooping over in front of her, looking into her eyes to somehow determine what might have happened to make his only daughter look like she had survived a car wreck. As his wife came into the room, she handed Carol her drink. Carol downed the strong drink in one gulp. Then fell forward into her father's arms and wrapped herself around him. The tears started again.

"Oh, Daddy, I have ruined everything!" It came out as more like a moan than anything else.

Her mother stood next to her and wrapped her arms around Carol. The three of them clung to each other for several minutes while Carol continued to sob.

Her dad pulled back to see her again and asked, "What happened? Did you and Phil, sorry this will take some getting used to; you and Phyllis have a fight? Did he hit you?" Michael knew the whole story about what had been done to his son-in-law. While he would agree that he had plenty of justification in hitting his wife, Michael would not stand by if Phil had begun to be physically abusive to his daughter.

Once Carol had regained control of herself, she went on, "No, Daddy. Phil didn't hit me. He would never lay a hand on me in anger. He's too gentle a person for that, no matter how mad he got."

Liz rubbed her daughter's back and said, "Why don't I make us some tea? We'll all go out to the kitchen and you can tell your father what happened."

Liz led the way for the three of them to take places at the kitchen table while she occupied herself with boiling water and gathering cups and the ingredients for tea. In short order, they were stirring their cups of tea, inhaling the sharp aroma of the steeping liquid and watching the wisps of steam emanating from the cups.

Liz and Michael looked expectantly at their daughter as she sipped from her cup. Carol kept her eyes focused on the tea in her cup as she searched for the words to describe her pain and shame. How does one explain that your marriage might be over because the stupid actions you had performed had turned your wonderful husband into an over endowed slut that didn't love you anymore?

Finally, the pressure of her parent's steady gaze became more than she could take and she said, "I know I have lost Phil, now I think that I've also lost Phyllis. I want to die."

The silence in the room was deafening. Then Mike took Carol's hands in his and said, "Oh honey. I'm so sorry. What happened?"

Michael's expression was sympathetic. As Carol related the events of the prior few weeks, the look on his face morphed several times. He seemed to go through the entire gambit of human emotions; shock, anger, bitterness, sympathy, ending in one of love and empathy. Mike contemplated the soap opera events his family was living through. First and foremost was Phil's pain as Carol reminded them of everything Phil had been put through in the past months, followed by understanding as Carol had tried to atone for her atrocious actions and been rebuffed, and then happiness when she related the one dinner outing that Phyllis had agreed to. He ended up looking sad and incredulous when Carol told of Phyllis' renewed distance after the dinner and the latest events and his apparent dalliance with a man.

Mike spoke, "Honey, in my 30 years of clinical psychology, I have never heard of plastic surgery causing someone to change their sexual orientation. So initially, I would doubt the story of Phil's sexual exploits with another man. Of course, what you did to Phil probably did enormous psychological damage. Who knows what you have done to that poor man."

"Michael! How dare you try and justify what that foul monster did to our daughter!"

"Shut the fuck up Liz! If he is a monster, remember it's our daughter who played Dr. Frankenstein and created him...her, whatever." Michael knew that he sounded overly harsh to his wife, but his intended audience was his daughter. If his wife could accept his explanation later, then this might be the only time he raised his voice to his wife, even after all these years together.

Liz sat there gob smacked, Michael had never before spoken to her like that.

"Carol, my advice to you is to go back home and, on your hand and knees, beg your husband's forgiveness. If he has sought solace in the arms of another person, you must realize you drove him there. Go home and be as loving and affectionate a wife as you can, maybe there is a chance for your marriage."

"Daddy, you don't understand. Why are you taking his side? I have tried all that lovey-dovey crap. Phil was always the romantic mushy one, with all his psychology stuff. I have been the stoic scientist. I've tried to treat him like a lady. I even brought him flowers and candy, none of it worked. Phil refuses to let me back in his heart. He is the one being unreasonable; he has to shoulder part of the responsibility for this calamity. After all if he had been open and honest with me, none of this would have happened. A tragic thing has happened to him. Boohoo, he should just get over it already. I see patients all the time with terrible deformities, I help them and they get on with their lives. That is all I am asking Phil to do. He looks like a woman and not just any woman a gorgeous one, thanks to me. Hell, there are thousands of females who would kill to look as good as Phyllis does. Why can’t he just get over it?"

"Carol you are my daughter and a gifted surgeon who graduated number one from med school. How can you be dumber than a stick of butter about this? He is your husband, not a lady. You have always been reluctant to except responsibility for your mistakes. Besides, miss smarty pants, Phil could not tell you about the clothes and the trunk — that would fall under doctor — patient confidentiality."

"But Daddy, look at it from my perspective. He's my husband, how do I treat him as the man of the house? He refuses to act the part and when I look at him, all I see is a stereotypical caricature of a high priced call girl."

Michael sighed, "This is not a small thing you have done. You have potentially destroyed the best marriage I have seen in over 30 years of practice. Thousands of couples have come through my office for counseling over the years. Your marriage to Phil was the strongest and most loving I had ever seen."

"Daddy, did you say 'was'?"

"Yes dear, you are the only one who can resurrect the love that existed between the two of you."

@ @ @ @

Carol took another strong drink from her mother and retired to her old bedroom. After removing the zoo of stuffed animals from her childhood bed, Carol laid in the dark and sipped her Scotch. For the first time she did some serious soul searching. Somewhere between the empty whiskey glass and sunrise, Carol came to the realization she still loved Phil despite his physical appearance. He would probably never forgive her; but just maybe there was an ember of his old love still glowing in his soul.

Phil was never movie star attractive. It wasn't his looks that initially attracted her to him. She decided she was going to do anything she could to keep her marriage together. She was going to woo him and make him fall in love with her again. He might look like hooker, but he still had the mind and soul of a man. She knew how to attract men. She had been doing that since she reached puberty.

The next morning, she took a really long shower and ate one of her mother’s fabulous breakfasts of eggs and pancakes. Helping her mother with the dishes, Carl called work and took the day off. She then found a local spa that had an opening, the first stages of her plan called for her to get beautified — after all men are really visual animals. Carol got the works, and came out looking like a million bucks — about what the bill was, so it was a fair trade. Carol's next stop was at the local boutique where she bought a gorgeous little black dress. Then she hopped next door to Victoria's Favorites for the slinkiest lingerie she could find. She made one more stop at the grocery store, thinking back on the old adage 'The way to a man's heart in through his stomach.' The rest of the afternoon was spent in the kitchen preparing Phil's favorite meal. She had changed into her seduction outfit and had set the table in candles and flowers and was laying the dishes on the table as she heard Phil's car pull into the driveway.

The door flew open and Phyllis stormed in, tossed his purse across the room and stopped dead in his tracks as he inhaled the wonderful aromas filling the room.

Glancing up he spotted Carol filling the wine glasses and dressed to the nines in her LBD. He simply said, "What the fuck are you doing here?" The angry words sounded out of place coming from an attractive woman in her high, girly voice.

Carol ignored the vindictive words and smiled lovingly at her husband and said in a sweet and loving tone, "I live here. Where else would I be?"

"I thought that you went to your mother's," Phyllis said flatly. He looked at Carol almost as if she were intruding upon his personal space.

Carol looked down for a moment, breaking the stare-down with her husband. The last thing she wanted to do was begin a contest for dominance with him. Tonight was all about him and anything he wanted.

"I did," she answered quietly. "But I realized that I love you more than anything and I don't want to lose you."

She went to her pretty husband and led him over to the sofa where she sat beside him. She took his unresisting hand in both of hers and looked deeply into his eyes.

The thought of each atrocity she had wrought upon him sent a chill down her spine. For one of her regular patients, her actions would have been a work of art. But in Phil's case, she was only just coming to understand how awful it must seem to him. Tears sprang out unbidden as she tried to make him understand how sorry she truly was. "I recognize that I treated you abominably and mutilated your body. I know you can never forget what I did; but could you possibly find it in your heart to forgive me? I would like a chance to win your love back."

For his part, Phil sat unmoving, looking at his wife. Her words came to him and he understood what she was said, but they barely made any impact upon the darkness that he felt inside. He had been blissful in his marriage as Carol's husband and he had thought that she was happy as well. And now he found himself stuck in this freakish body, one with no nuts, a squeaky prepubescent voice and humongous breasts. To add to the humiliation, he was still sexually attracted to his wife, but could no longer have sex as a man. He saw himself as just an object of beauty like a painting hanging in a museum only attractive to others but not himself. To preserve his sanity, he had learned to present a strong front to the world though; of a happy, adjusted woman; an act that was proving financially rewarding because of his transgender clientele.

Phil answered his wife's heartfelt plea with, "Carol I'm not buying what you're selling. How would you feel if you woke up tomorrow and found you had been kidnapped, your breasts removed and a dick sticking out of you pussy?"

"That's not the same thing. Your scenario speaks more of hate and revenge. What I did to you was done out of love. It was simply a misunderstanding. It's what I thought you wanted. I was trying to give you the gift of femininity.

Phil sarcastically replied, "Yea a present with a no return, no exchange policy."

"Come on Phil, give it a chance, half the world's population didn't ask for it any more than you did; but they love being female, you may come to enjoy it after a while."

Phil thought on that for a minute. He hated to admit she may have a point. But wasn't ready to concede the argument so he went on the attack. "If you neglect a plant and fail to water/nourish it. It will die. Do you really believe that now drowning the roots will make it bloom again?

Carol replied, "Just because something has gone dormant, doesn't mean it's dead. Please give me this one night to show you how much I love you. I'll do anything you want to revive your roots." Not waiting for an answer Carol pulled Phil out to the dining room. He sat at his customary place at the head of the table and waited quietly as Carol brought out the meal that she had worked on all afternoon. She ladled a generous helping of the beef bourguignon that Phil had always liked. Phil politely complimented her on the quality of her cooking and responded to Carol's questions about how his day had gone in single syllables. Phil made no effort to engage Carol in conversation and it was obvious to her that she was doing all of the work. Carol resolved that she was not going to accept defeat so easily and persevered.

As far as Carol was concerned, the meal was over all too quickly and Phil excused himself, retrieved his purse from the living room floor and headed off to bed. Carol watched him walk down the hall to the master bedroom with an aggregated sway to his medically enhanced posterior. The steady click of his high heels seemed to echo well after Phil had closed the door behind him. Carol was glad to have not heard the door being locked. Phil had actually done that to her a couple of times, on those nights she slept alone in the guest bedroom.

It took her some time to clean up after dinner and then she braced herself for her second assault upon her husband's stoic demeanor. She closed up the house for the night and made her way down to the bedroom. Opening the door, she saw that Phil had left one of the bedside lamps turned down low for her. This act of thoughtfulness gave her some hope that 'Phyllis' was not totally indifferent to her. She performed her nighttime ritual in the bathroom and returned to the bedroom wearing her new a floor-length gown.

The idea tonight was not to ravish Phyllis or call attention to the fact he can no longer perform as a man during sex. Rather it was to just let her girly husband know that Carol still loved him. She was here to hold him and give him loving contact with another person. As a surgeon, her bedside manner had often been criticized by her peers and nurses. She was admittedly lacking in some of the inter-personal skills that her colleagues, like her father and Phyllis, had in spades. But she knew enough that everyone needed contact with someone. She intended to be that one for Phyllis, not some travelling salesman.

She turned off the lamp and crawled between the bed covers. Phyllis had recently taken to sleeping on the far side of the mattress when they slept together, but Carol was not going to accept that tonight. She scooted across the bed to spoon herself up against Phyllis' back. Upon Carol's first touch Phyllis became rigid. Carol wrapped herself around her husband, keeping her hands away from anything Phyllis might consider an erogenous zone, and just hugged him to her. She pulled Phyllis into the crook of her arm so the Phyllis's head lay upon her breast.

They lay that way for several minutes until Phyllis' rigidity seemed to melt away and he relaxed into Carol's arms. Phyllis laid there listing to the heartbeat of his wife. It was not too long after that Phyllis was wracked with sobs and Carol could not help but weep with him for everything that he had lost.

Morning came all too soon; Carol crawled out of bed first. Her morning rituals required considerably more effort than Phyllis, a fact that did not go unnoticed by either party. As Carol left to fix coffee, Phil adjourned to the bathroom to void his bowels and wash his face and hands. A quick brush through his curly hair, some lip-gloss and Phyllis was ready to get dressed. Before leaving the room Phyllis went back and picked up Carol's favorite perfume 'White Diamonds' and added just a hint to each wrist. After his cathartic cry last night he wanted something to lift his spirits and for some reason, perfume seem just the thing this morning.

He put on the new bra he had picked up yesterday. He could not go anywhere without a good support brassiere. His bad back had been acting up with the bowling balls attacked to his chest. So he found he was only comfortable with a strong girdle or on special occasions a corset around his waist. For some unknown reason while browsing the lingerie department at Nordstrom this pink bra trimmed in lace caught his fancy. Seeing it on display it just screamed at him. He had to have it. He paid the outrageous price without blinking. Buying sexy intimate apparel had become his current obsession. Wearing them detracted from his manly self-image, but he didn't care, they made him feel good.

After donning his underwear, he selected a form fitting eggshell white skirt suit. It had become his favorite. With its suit coat top, it portrayed a very profession appearance yet still emphasized his ample bosom; the skirt was too short for his liking, but the overall effect was pleasing and made Phyllis feel like he was floating on air.

Carol had coffee and sweet rolls laid out on their small breakfast nook. The sun shone through the window illuminating the table. Carol prayed it was the dawning of a new phase of their marriage.

Carol looked up at her husband and couldn't restrain herself she let out a low wolf whistle, which immediately embarrassed both of them.

Without comment, Phyllis pulled his chair further away from the table to make room for his female endowments.

He sat he started to say, "Carol, about the other night."

Carol reached across the table and put her fingers on his lips. "Honey, please don't!"

Pushing her hand aside he went on, "Carol, I need to explain and apologize."

"No, you don't! I am the one that screwed up. If you felt the need for physical contact with another man, it was my doing; I am the one that drove you there. I am the one who should be apologizing. Can we just put that behind us and move on. Please!"

Phyllis tried to continue the argument. But Carol stuffed a large piece of the sticky bun in his mouth which prevented any further communication.

Carol glanced at her watch and quickly finished her coffee, stood and put her cup in the sink. "Leave the dishes, I will get them tonight."

She bent over and kissed Phyllis on the cheek. Grabbed her purse and headed out the door.

Phil finished his breakfast chewing slowly, trying to digest the emotional dynamics going on. Eventually, he headed for the door after a quick stop in the bathroom to check his appearance. He added a little hair spray, a touch more perfume and he was out the door. He had a full slate of patients scheduled for today.

@ @ @ @

Wedged in his trusty compact car, he turned onto the expressway and headed to the office humming a cheery little tune.

Ten minutes into the drive he was on the expressway, disaster struck. A loud bang signaled a flat tire. Phil pulled off onto the shoulder and swore under his breath. Watching for a safe break in traffic, he exited the driver's side and cautiously made his way to the rear of the car. Opening the small trunk Phil stood and scratched his head. In his life he had changed dozens of tires, but never had he tried it with long nails, high heels and wearing a skirt.

Phil bent over and was about to lift the spare out when behind him came a screeching of tires and a shower of gravel. Phil looked over his shoulder and around his blond locks to see a dusty old pickup truck sliding to a stop a few feet behind him.

Out of the truck leaped a muscular young man in his late twenties wearing levies, a tight white t-shirt, work boots and a cowboy hat.

"Howdy miss, may I be of some assistance?"

"No, that's alright, I can handle this."

"Begging your pardon missy, but you's way too pretty a filly to be doing that. My mommy would tan my hide if I let a lady do that. Now please stand over there where it's safe and I'll have this taken care, in two shakes of a lamb's tail.

Phil stood back in thankful appreciation as the muscular young Marlin Brando look alike went about his business. As he was securing the hubcap, Phil retrieved his purse and took out $20 to tip him.

The young man walked over to where Phil stood, smiled, and said, "All done little lady, but you should get that flat fixed as soon as possible; your spare ain't in any great shakes."

Phil stuck his hand out to shake hands; the cowboy rubbed the dirt and grease onto his jeans and declined to shake hands. Phil stuck out the twenty dollar bill to give him. "Please take this as a token of my gratitude."

He shook his head and said, "Lady I can't take your money. I's just being neighborly."

"But I must pay you back for your kindness."

He tipped his hat and said, "Miss, just helping someone as pretty as you is payment enough. You have a good day. Now get into your vehicle, I will step out in the lane of traffic to make sure you get away safely."

Phil pulled out, lowered his window and waved goodbye to the Good Samaritan.

It wasn't more than five minutes later that Phil realized what an incredible thing had just happened. This was San Francisco, people would never stop to help Phil, but Phyllis had just been treated like a royal princess and nothing was asked in return. He replayed the entire incident in his head and was astonished when he realized the young man had never broken eye contact during their encounter. He had just met a true gentlemen and it made Phil feel a funny fluttering in his tummy.

Phil pulled into his designated parking space, struggled to extricate himself because the car next to him took the parking lines as suggestions. It was bad enough getting in and out of cars with a bit of decorum and gracefulness when the car door opened fully, but when it opened only a few inches it was impossible. He was late and took a look around the parking lot and noticed all the other parking spaces were occupied. So he got on his hand and knees and crawled across the front seat. He pushed open the passenger door. With his ballast being top heavy Phil tumbled out the car and landed on the asphalt. Between the seatbelt and his purse strap, he was unable to free his arms to brace the fall. Unluckily his new air bags absorbed the shock; his sensitive nipples were particularly affected. A very unhappy Phil stood, bent over to retrieve his purse, clutched it tightly and brushed himself off. Swearing, "Damn now I will have to take my suit back to the dry cleaners." He took a hankie from his purse; in a very unladylike gesture spit on it and removed a smug of dirt from his dress. He headed toward the front door, and passed some jerk that stared lasciviously at his chest. It was poetic justice that he actually missed the curb and fell on his face because he was eyeballing Phil's jiggling breasts, rather than watching where he was walking.

Phyllis smiled and thought, 'Serves him right, all men are pigs. I can't help it if my massive attributes have a mind of their own when I walk. That doesn't give him the right to ogle me.'

Phyllis squared his shoulders and strolled as gracefully as he could to the entrance. As he approached the main door a distinguished older gentleman exited. The man with a twinkle in his eye stepped aside and gallantly held the door open for Phyllis to pass through and softly said "Morning ma'am." Phyllis did the hair-flip thing and returned the favor with a broad smile and simply said, "Thanks." From the expression on the man's face you would have thought the old geezer had just won the lottery as bowed his head in recognition.

Phyllis proceeded to his office with a bounce to his step thinking, 'Even in a pile of manure you can occasionally find a gem.'

@ @ @ @

The rest of the morning was routine. Three patients he referred to general practitioners, one gentleman with simple depression he treated with the prescription of taking a week off, packing his bags and hopping a plane to a tropical island somewhere. The pill pushers would disagree, but Phil always wanted to try non-pharmaceutical cures first.

One interesting case came in right before lunch, a young wife — in her mid twenties dragged her husband into the office. After an extensive search on the internet she had diagnosed him as having gender dysphoria problems because he was only able to get hard when he was wearing her underwear.

After a detailed interview, Dr. Phil simply recommended a good sex therapist for the both of them.

At lunch, Phil went to the cafeteria, where he ordered only a salad and unsweetened ice tea. He'd been eating healthier lately because he enjoyed the way it made him feel. He took his tray and scanned the lunchroom for somewhere to sit. His old male colleagues had shunned him like a leper, but a number of the women, mainly the nurses and receptionists welcomed his company. They tried to draw him into their conversations which were usually about senseless woman's fashions; Phil didn't have much to contribute so he sat in rapt amazement at their perspective on the world, so different from the testosterone driven opinions he was accustomed to. Phil thoroughly enjoyed their companionship he was readily accepted as one of them, just because he wore dresses and makeup.

After lunch, Phil had a case that consumed his entire afternoon. A young chap came in consumed with self-loathing. He related his story, "My girlfriend tricked me into going to a costume party, with both of us dressed as hookers. I stubbornly resisted until she threatened to cut off sex unless I agreed. She went all out, breast forms, corset, five inch heels, a long wig, even talked me into having my ears pierced, and tons of heavy makeup."

Sobbing he went on, "I reluctantly went to the party, she had to pull me out of the car, and towards the front door."

Phil sat, crossed his nylon-encased legs at the thigh a pump dangling from the tips of his manicured toes. A habit he had recently acquired and took notes on the pad resting in his lap. As a form of encouragement, he said, "Go on, I hear nothing extraordinary about what you have said. Tell me how you felt about all that."

"In simple terms, I prefer the look, touch, sound, and emotions of being a woman. I'll admit there is an erotic element to wearing a bra, nylons and waist cincher."

Phil couldn't help himself, he sighed and said, "Tell me about it."

"That's what I am doing aren't you listening?"

"Sorry I was speaking to myself. Please go on."

"You don't understand doctor, once in the party, rather than being embarrassed and hiding in the shadows, I loved every minute of it. I was chatted up by every guy at the party and most of the women. I was plied with drinks and danced every song. During one slow romantic ballad, this really macho football player guy pulled me into his body and kissed me with an open mouth. And the much to my consternation, I kissed him back."

Phil brushed an imaginary piece of lint from his suit to buy time to think. He shook his head in encouragement and furiously took notes; he was now beginning to understand why his patient was here. The guy was questioning his sexual orientation and wondering if he might be gay.

Phil inquired, "Did you enjoy it?"

Shacking with emotion the response surprised Phil, "Yes! But not in the way you are implying. There was no sexual energy in the kiss; simply a pure euphoria that my feminine illusion was so complete he accepted me as a woman. I didn't understand why; that was so important to me but at that moment it meant everything. Am I a freak doctor?"

"No, it is a natural human emotion to want to be appreciated for who you are. You felt like a desirable woman and you simply reacted accordingly."

Then the patient started to cry. Phil handed him a box of tissues he kept on his desk. He dabbed the tears from his sad green eyes as he related, "On the way home my girlfriend, whom I trusted with my life, was ecstatic. It seems she had used her cell phone to capture the entire evening. She threatened to expose me to my family and friends unless I did whatever she demanded. Of course I capitulated to her threats. The first night, with both of us still high from overindulging at the party it was heavenly. We made love for hours like two women, no penetration simply oral sex." The next morning, she woke me with the announcement I would remain dressed as a female from then on, except at work. For the next two months, excluding when I was in the office, I was required to dress completely en femme. We got into an argument one night, over something really stupid. I don't even remember what it was about. She up and left me."

Phil inquired, "Did she carry through on her threat to expose you?"

"You bet she did, the vindictive bitch emailed hundreds of pictures of me to everyone we knew. As if that wasn't bad enough she posted them all on face book."

Phil curled a strand of his long blonde hair around his finger, buying time for his feelings of Déjá  vu to ebb and eventually replied, "I see, you hated being betrayed by a woman you loved for taking your masculinity away."

"If it were that simple doctor, I wouldn't be here now. I don't care what people think of me. I have discovered a side of my personality that I like better than the old me. I have no desire to be some flamboyant drag queen. I just want to have the freedom to live my life as any other normal female. My parents are trying to force me to go back to my masculine self. He is not someone I want to be. I love the new feminine me. I like the way people treat me, better still I like the way I treat them as a woman.

"The little things have come to mean so much to me, the taste of lipstick, the smell of my perfume, the click of my high heels on the sidewalk, the way my skirt brushes against my legs. Doctor, you are a beautiful woman, you know what I mean."

Phil smiled at the compliment and said, "What can I do for you?"

"Doctor I'm depressed. I occasionally have regrets and doubts about my new life style. I have thrown out everything regarding my old life. I have no intentions to go back living as a man. Doctor I need your help to validate the fact in my soul I have always been a girl."

Phil was taken aback by this young man's sincerity; he maintained a sympathetic silence and eventually asked, "What about sex? Are you interested in a relationship with a man?"

Without a hesitation he replied, "Oh heavens no. I like everything about women. Men certainly have their place; just not in my bed. I will spend my life searching for a mate; but it will be a woman."

Phil finished recording his notes and sat in quiet contemplation. Phil had always made it a point not to get emotionally involved with his patients. But there was something different about this case. He unexpectedly found himself bonding with this poor schmuck. He had openly agreed with this patient there was a lot about presenting yourself as an attractive woman that was emotionally satisfying. To handle his depression, Phil prescribed he take a day off and treat himself to a spa day and a makeover.

With a sigh, Phil crossed his legs and listened to the lovely swishing sound of nylons rubbing together made. From a mental health point-of-view, he was going to have to ensure he was able to separate the fantasy from reality.

With that closing thought he stood checked his appearance in the mirror on his wall, suddenly it dawned on Phil he was beginning to like what he saw in the looking back at him. Phil took a minute to contemplate his matriculation to womanhood and wonder what his graduation would mean. He pushed a lock of hair behind his ear and headed out the door to the parking lot.

@ @ @ @

Walking to his car, his eyes were drawn to the yellow Pontiac Firebird Convertible, parked in the visitor's parking spot. As Phil contorted himself into his compact car, he briefly fantasized about motoring down Pacific Coast highway driving a car like that; his long blond locks flowing out behind him like a comets tail. The bumper to bumper traffic soon brought the daydream to a screeching halt.

Arriving home, Phil had to park on the street. Liz's car was parked in the driveway next to Carol's silver Toyota Camry. Not wanting to engage the witch of a mother-in-law in conversation Phil snuck in the front door. He laid his purse down on the coffee table and as quite as a church mouse fixed himself a strong drink, slipped off his heels and collapsed into his favorite recliner. Sipping his drink, Phil laid his head back and listened to the two women babbling away in the kitchen.

Suddenly Phil shot bolt upright as he overheard Liz, advise his wife, "Honey it is time you woke up and smelled the coffee, your marriage is over. Dump that loser and move on. You are still young enough to find a new man, someone that can satisfy you in the bedroom.

"My bridge partner has this brother who is a real dream boat. If Monica is to be believed he has a man package that would satisfy any woman. Give it some thought."

Carol's response was lost on Phil, as he scrambled to get to his purse and retrieve his cell phone. He tiptoed into his bedroom and called his only alley, Mike.

"Mike, this is Phil, I need your help!"

"Sure anything, what is it?"

"Your wife is over here telling Carol she should leave me. I can't be civil to that woman any longer. Please, I am pleading with you, speak to her. I have enough problems without her meddling interference."

Thirty minutes later Mike barged in the front door and found Phil back on his recliner finishing off his second drink.

"Sorry it took me so long. I got stopped for speeding. Where is that witch of a wife of mine?"

Phil pointed to the kitchen. Mike shot out of the room and returned shortly, firmly clasping each woman by the arm. "Let's start by determining what your problems are. We are going to settle this issue here and now. Now what is bothering everyone?"

Neither woman said a thing. They also couldn't meet Mike's eyes when he looked at them. Knowing where the wall of silence was weakest, Mike fastened his eyes on his daughter and said firmly, "Carol. I told you that you were the only one who could save your marriage. You can also destroy it."

Those words were enough to get his daughter to lift her head and look him in the eye. It also broke the damned up silence.

Suddenly it sounded like the tower of babble. Both women and Phil began to speak at once. Each believing the louder they spoke, the stronger their argument. To stop a major brouhaha Mike stepped in and took charge.

"Quiet, all of you! Sit down and we will go through this one at a time. Liz, you first since you seem to be the instigator of the latest crisis."

Liz whined, "Mike, don't talk to me like that. It hurts my feelings and is disrespectful. I am your wife."

"Wife, girlfriend, or concubine, it makes no difference. Respect is not something that is conveyed with the title. Respect is earned. If you want to be the esteemed matriarch of this family, start acting like one. Now I want the truth, why are you so determined to break up this marriage?"

After a moment's thought, Liz responded. "Phyllis is no longer a suitable mate for Carol. It's an abomination, Carol being married to someone who looks like her." She pointed at Phil, and went on, "Why, I'm embarrassed when people see them together. They think our daughter is a lesbian."

Mike scratched his chin and said, "Good, now we are getting somewhere. What you are really saying is you're not as concerned about our daughter's happiness as you are about appearances, and what people will think about you."

"Well, when you put it like that it doesn't sound so good. We have to live in this town. I don't want people pointing and laughing behind my back. I am only concerned for my family."

Mike threw his arms up in exasperation. "I can only assume your definition of family now excludes Phil. I will not make a judgment on your priorities, that's your opinion, now sit there and zip it."

"Carol it's your turn. What's eating at you?"

Carol spoke with a strong undertone of sadness, "I made a mistake, I screwed up I know. How many ways can I say I'm sorry? All Phyllis does is sulk and mope around the house. He's the professional, why can't he see we are not able to change anything that has happened in our past. We can only change how it will affect us in the future, and how we deal with it. Damn it, why must he let my one mistake; be the defining moment of his life?"

Mike knelt next to his daughter and glared into her eyes, "Go on sweetheart there is something you are hiding. Let it out or it will just fester and destroy your relationship."

Carol started to cry, between sniffles she got out, "It breaks my heart; but it's Phyllis, I am jealous of him. When we go out he gets all the attention I used to get. Damn it, he's a better looking woman than I am. That's just not right."

"OK, stop right there, that sounds just like your mother. It's your needs that come first."

Mike turned to Phil, who was sitting and nonchalantly fiddling with an earring. Mike asked, "Let's get this out in the open, do you want to be referred to as Phil or Phyllis?"

The silence dragged on as Phil stared at his perfectly manicured fingernails and contemplated the ramifications of his response. "Everyone out of the house calls me Phyllis. Mike, you and occasionally Carol, are the only ones that use Phil. So for consistency's sake, I guess we should go with Phyllis."

Mike stared at Phyllis and said, "Now for the $64,000 question. Do you want to be addressed as he or she?"

Phyllis thought for a long while and responded, "That's a tough question, I honestly don't know, sometimes I feel like a he and sometimes I feel like a she."

Mike then put Phyllis in the proverbial hot seat. "Listen to me missy, you are mired in self-pity and obviously depressed. As the saying goes, either piss or get off the pot! You can't go through life balancing on a fence.

"You can accept your future as a woman and make the best of it. Or you can pass yourself off as an effeminate man. It is my understanding no amount of plastic surgery will ever return you to your former masculine self. They can make you less feminine perhaps — then the question for you is. If you must live life as a woman would you rather be a plane Jane, a butch lesboo or a great looking woman?"

That brought a muffled giggle from Liz, which Mike stifled with a withering glare.

Phyllis blushed; a bright red and looked to Carol and stammered out, "I'm sorry Carol; I don't mean to take the spotlight off you, when we are out. But if I must live this way; I want...no I need to be attractive. I don't need men hanging on my every word; I just want to feel good about myself." He brushed at the tears that were forming at the corners of his eyes. 'Damned hormones!' He thought.

Carol stood and walked to Phyllis and hugged him as she said, "That's alright honey; every woman wants to be beautiful. We can all understand that.

"Damn it Phyllis, talk to me. Everyone knows communication is the key in any relationship. I have apologized a dozen times in a dozen different ways, what more do you want of me?"

Phyllis shook his head in exasperation and disappointment then pushed Carol away, stood and wiped a tear from his eye and headed to the bedroom. His voice quivered with pent-up emotion as he said over his shoulder, "I just want one I'm sorry. But I need it to be sincere."

Carol collapsed on the floor. "Daddy, what do I do now?"

"Dear, I think that you need to really show your husband how deeply you regret your conduct. It could very well call for grand gesture of some sort."

"You're the expert, what would it take?"

"Honey, that is something only you can determine. Let me know what you decide and I will support you anyway I can."

@ @ @ @

Carol got up, and walked to the spare bedroom and locked herself in. Luckily it had an en-suite since Carol didn't come out for two days except when she snuck out to go to a doctor's appointment. Being a scientist by training, she spent the time in solitude developing and evaluating her options. 'If a grand gesture is what Phyllis wants, he is going to get it. I hope it makes him happy,' thought Carol. Having made up her mind, she sat down a made up a detailed itinerary of what she was going to do. Her decision would have drastic consequences on the entire family, so Carol used her cell phone to schedule a family summit.

Carol bathed and spent a fair amount of time on her appearance, trying to disguise the fatigue etched in her face. She dressed in her 'best' cocktail dress a lovely long flowing gown with her highest heels, and her gorgeous Black Onyx necklace, figuring it might be her last chance to indulge in such feminine finery. She heard the various family members arrive, the stage was set. She paused with her hand on the door knob, took a deep breath and waited to make her grand entrance. She squared her shoulders, pasted a smile on her face and opened the door and waltzed into the living room as if she didn't have a care in the world.

She walked over to her mother who was sitting perched on the couch, kissed her on the cheek and said, "Thanks for coming mother."

Turning to her father she walked over to him and hugged him as he sat in a hardback chair. "Daddy, I love you."

Carol knelt at her husband's feet with tears streaming down her cheeks she beat her breast and said, "mea culpa, mea maxima culpa."

"My love, I admit I have mutilated your body. But I hope not your life; I still want to grow old with you. Now it's a matter of equivalence. I took your manhood from you and I must give up a corresponding component from me."

"Oh my God, Carol you aren't thinking of killing yourself?"

"No, nothing that drastic; but if that is what it will take to earn your forgiveness I will give it some consideration."

"Don't be a complete Eejit! True you took away my boy parts, but you haven't killed my spirit. In fact I am starting to enjoy parts of my life again. Tell us exactly what you have in mind."

"Alright, cutting to the chase, you are no longer the man around the house, so I am going to take over that responsibility."

Mike sighed in relieve thinking 'Alright she is just going to take over the traditional manly roles; wearing pants, taking out the garbage, mowing the lawn, and ensuring the vehicles are maintained.'

Liz was thinking along the same lines and added, "Carol, don't you dare start doing your husband's chores like cutting the grass, what will the neighbors think?"

Carol shook her head in discuss for their failing to grasp her intent. "None of you understand! I am not going to just act the part. I have scheduled surgery to become a man — a complete sexual reassignment." I know that you all might think that I'm making an erratic decision; I went to a psychologist as part of this. I explained why I was making this choice and he cleared me to go forward.

That is when all hell broke loose.

"OMG, Carol it wasn't that idiot McWilliams was it?"

"Yes daddy as a matter of fact it was, I like him despite your disapproval of his unorthodox methods."

"Well that explains a lot! The man is a quack and should have his license revoked."

Liz threw herself at her daughter's feet and wept. "You can't do that! I won't let you. My lord! What would people say? We would be the laughing stock of the entire town."

"Mother, there is only one person's opinion I care about and that is Phyllis."

Simultaneously Mike hugged his daughter, and raised his voice; something a trained family counselor never does and lectured, "Carol, you are not thinking correctly. Two wrongs never make a right. You must know that self-mutilation is considered a mental illness. Think what this will do to your personal and profession life. All those years of med school would be wasted; your friends will in all likelihood abandon you. Who would go to a doctor that was half man and half woman? You would be a freak."

"Daddy, you said you would support me. I am disappointed that you don't have enough faith in me to make my own decisions. I have thought this thing through. If I lose friends over this, I guess they really weren't my friends.

"I have even put out feelers in the transgender community. They have assured me of their support. I suspect, just like Phyllis's client base has skyrocketed; mine will do likewise. Instead of rich suburban house wives hoping to remain young, I will be helping emotionally desperate individuals trying to make sense of their lives."

Through all this Phyllis sat stunned, staring off into space. Cathy turned to her husband and inquired, "Phyllis, what do you think?"

"Doctor Franken Freak, I think what you propose is morally reprehensible, but there is a part of me that would garner a great deal of satisfaction from it. However, let me ask why you are doing this? Is it a form of self flagellation to earn my sympathy or is it because of true and contrite remorse?"

"Damn it Phyllis, is your heart made of stone? I am making the ultimate sacrifice giving up my womanhood, and all you can do is play Solomon and question my motivations. Phyllis, at one time I wanted to tell you to stop whining, pull up your big girl panties and man up over this small misunderstanding. Now in retrospect I believe that I need to be the one to 'man up', you obviously aren't up to it — in more than one way. Whether you will admit it or not, what I did to you, I did out of love. At the time I sincerely believed that is what you wanted; but were too cowardly to admit to me. The only error I made was not being brave enough to confront you with the evidence I found. I thought if I did that, it would only embarrass you. By making it a fait accompli, I reasoned it would be easier for you to show me your feminine self. I am the good guy here. Why do you insist on treating me like a leaper?"

"But what you did to me is not what I wanted."

"Phyllis you are still missing the point. What you wanted was irrelevant. I am an empirical scientist, I acted on the data I had available at the time. Obviously, if I knew then what I did now, things would have been different. To tell the truth, if I had to make a decision again with the facts I had then, I probably would make the same decision."

Phyllis was flabbergasted at Carol's attitude. He stood and walked to the master bedroom and locked the door, threw himself on the bed and wept in exasperation. He still loved Carol, but he could not accept her back into his heart until she understood.

Mike sent Liz home and he sat with Carol just holding and consoling her.

When she eventually got up to go to bed, Mike invaded Phil's private sanctum by pounding on the door until it was opened. Mike noticed Phyllis' eyes were red from crying but he had combed his hair and changed into a floor length lace nightgown with spaghetti straps that shamelessly displayed his predominant bosom.

Mike took one look at his attire and took a big chance, "Damn it Phyllis you are one hot momma, if I wasn't married..."

These inappropriate comments shocked Phyllis. "Mike, I expected sympathy from you. Not mockery!"

"First off please call me Dad. It is not mockery to make an objective evaluation of the situation. Sit down on the bed. We need to have a talk. According to C.S. Lewis, 'Crying is all right in its own way while it lasts. But you have to stop sooner or later'*".
* thanks Andrea Lena

"Phyllis, we are both trained professionals, and you know what you need to do as well as I do. There is an old prayer that speaks volumes here, "God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change. The courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference."

"Let's be honest here, your body is what it is. You had a goal in mind when you married my daughter. But that express way is permanently closed. We can't change the past, and we shouldn't want to. Our past is what has helped us get to where we are, and the past is what guarantees us our future. Accept your new life, stop dwelling on the negative. You are not clairvoyant, you can't know the future. Your new life may be better than you old one. Don't give up, give it a chance. Chart yourself a new course to happiness. Don't be afraid of being who you are. If you try to suppress it, you will only be cheating yourself."

Phyllis sat for the longest time and digested what his father-in-law had said.

"Mike, you have a knack for hitting on the obvious. My muscles are as soft as marshmallows. Hell last week at the grocery store I had to ask the box boy to load the bags into my trunk they were too heavy for me. I had three boys and one older gentleman fighting over the chore. It made me feel very unmasculine, or I guess more appropriately I felt very feminine and I liked it. I hate to admit this and if you quote me I will deny it but I am more at peace with myself like this. Your daughter may have done me a favor. But by God she needs to be taught a lesson."

Mike leaned towards his son-in-law and said intensely, "For God's sake man, stop grousing, let's put our heads together and see what we can come up with. Just one thing, I insist that Liz be given a lesson as well! It is getting late, how about I pick you up at your office at noon and I will take you out to lunch while we figure out our course of action."

@ @ @ @

Mike pulled his BMW into the visitors spot at Phyllis's office right at noon. He announced his presence to the receptionist and stood patiently, while he survived the eclectic group of patients in the waiting room.

Phyllis put down the phone, ending her brief conversation with the receptionist. Phyllis crossed the room and retrieved her Gucci shoulder purse, a recent gift from Carol, from the hook on the backside of the door. He dug through several Archaeology layers and finally somewhere around the ice age layer he found his lip-gloss, stepping to the mirror he checked his hair then expertly coated his lips. He briefly though about refreshing his perfume but decided against it. He cautiously spun around and ambled back to his large oak desk. The only shoes in his closet, that went with his maroon outfit where these narrow four inch heels. Phyllis realized that walking on his tiptoes was a developing art form; he wasn't perfect but was improving. He scooped his cell phone, and iPod into the cavernous void. As Phyllis dropped several pens into the opening he thought back to the day Carol presented him the generous present. At the time he was less than impressed with the gesture. However he had come to appreciate it not only for its beauty but also its functionality. As a man Phil had to make do with a wallet. He could carry his credit cards, a driver's license, some money, and a few family snapshots. Now with his purse he can carry enough to support a shipwrecked family of three for a week. Phyllis hefted the heavy bag over his shoulder and looked forward to his planning session with Mike.

Phyllis stepped into the lobby and spotted Mike immediately. A handsome middle-aged man in a $1,000 suit stood out from the normal clientele. Mike rushed over to Phyllis and gave her a hug saying, "Are you ready for our lunch date? My car is just outside."

Mike, put his hand in the small of Phyllis's back and guided her to his car. He opened the door and took her hand to help her entered the car.

Mike drove into town to a small out of the way café. Seeing the rundown storefront, Phyllis turned to Mike with just a quizzical look she conveyed her concern. Mike smiled and answered her unspoken question with, "Wait and see, this place has the best clam chowder you have ever eaten, and their cheese biscuits are to die for."

Mike had to park down an alley. He again helped Phyllis out of the car and offered her his arm, which she clung too with a death grip least she twist and break an ankle. They walked over the gravel alleyway, eventually reaching the sidewalk that lead to the front door. The owner greeted Mike by his first name and the two were led to a quiet corner at a table for two. Before Phyllis could sit, Mike stood behind him and pulled out his chair. He helped Phyllis sit.

Embarrassed and excited at the same time by the gallant manner Mike was treating him; Phyllis had to ask, "Dad what has gotten into you? Why are you treating me this way?"

"Why whatever do you mean? I am just taking my attractive daughter-in-law out to lunch."

"Daughter-in-law?"

Mike smiled, "Let's be honest, take a step back a take a look at what you've become. My daughter may have an ego the size of Alaska; but she is unequivocally the Michelangelo of cosmetic surgeons. It wasn't your wish; but dear she has turned you into real eye candy. Every man in this place has been giving you the eye from the moment we walked in.

"I'm doing nothing more than treating you like the lady you appear to be. Carol waved her magic scalpel and turned an ugly duckling into a graceful swan, you have become a different person. I'm not talking just about the shell of Phillip. There is only one way to say this, as a professional psychologists I have witnessed your personality slowly morph into a feminine persona. My question to you, is your path a charted one or are you just aimlessly drifting where the tides take you?"

Phyllis was getting real uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was headed. Just then the waiter brought their meals. As if to reinforce what Mike had just said the waiter made eye contact with Phyllis. As he set the meal before her, he gave Phyllis a captivating smile who instinctively smiled back at him.

Mike watched the two interact with amusement. "Phyllis my dear, the time's coming where you are going to have to choose. A blind man can see you can attract any man you want. Imagine yourself someday being the trophy wife of some rich old millionaire living the life of leisure. There are a ton of rich men in San Francisco who would appreciate a woman like you. Think about it, you would have certain obligations as a wife, but would it be that bad a tradeoff, waited on hand and foot by servants while covered in jewels and furs."

"Mike, I have no interest in men now; nor will I in the future, no matter how much money they have!

"I've found some positive things about appearing as an attractive woman. I've also learned to appreciate the softer, more feminine side of life. That doesn't mean I'm turning gay."

"Of course not! You are simply adapting to your environment, a classic example of Darwinism. I think there may be a paper here."

Mike said, "I shouldn't have to tell you this, but I will anyway." He tapped Phil in the forehead and continued. "Stop using this."

Then he tapped between his breasts and said, "Start using this to rule your life. You'll be a much happier person."

"You're the expert on sexual orientation, are you telling me you think I've changed teams?"

Mike took a long pull on his beer and being just a little drunk answered, "In my professional opinion you're a male lezzy. I am just teasing, but you must realize that the world sees you as a beautiful voluptuous woman no matter how you see yourself. It is time you decide what you want to do concerning your marriage. Understandably you've been upset. Just how long to you intend to keep taking your anger out on my daughter? I know at times she comes across as a full-blown delusional sociopath, with a total lack of conscience. That is all an act. She cares about you deeply. So what are your intentions toward my daughter?"

Without hesitation Phyllis responded, "I know what I want. I love Carol and want to stay with her as her husband, lover and helpmate, if she'll have me. But I have no intention of being the wife to some transsexual man."

"That's great to hear, now let's find a way to make her worthy of that kind of love and devotion.

"She has made a threat. I know her, as a child every time she got angry at us, she would threaten to run away...That stopped when one day I helped her pack a bag and carried it to the front door. I firmly believe she doesn't want to have the surgery. She will put up a token resistance; but expects us to talk her out of it. In her mind she will get credit for the gesture but has no intention to pay the piper."

Mike leaned in close to Phyllis in a conspiratorial manner and said, "Here's what I recommend we do. We call her bluff, we'll tell Carol we respect her decision and will help her get what she wants. I will even find a surgeon and schedule the surgery for her."

"What if this isn't a bluff, Dad?"

"We'll step in at the last minute and prevent it. Believe you me; she will never let it get that far. My 'first' daughter is too self-centered to make that kind of sacrifice.

We could even let the anesthesiologist put her under. And have the surgeon perform some minor cosmetic surgery, nothing serious just painful."

With the plan finalized, Mike got up, went to the cash register to pay the bill, Phyllis retrieved her heavy purse from the floor and took the opportunity to visited the little girls room to repair the damage done by lunch. Mike noticed how casually Phyllis walked into the female sanctuary, but elected to not comment on it.

Phyllis again took Mike's arm for the walk back to the car. When they got to the alleyway entrance, Phyllis paused and dreaded the obstacle course back to Mike's sedan. Mike stopped and said, "Phyllis why don't you wait here. I'll go get the car and save you the walk."

For some unfathomable reason Phyllis reached over and gave Mike a quick peck on the cheek. "Thanks Dad, that would be wonderful."

Mike was half way to the car when a young man in a black sweatshirt and jeans appeared out of the shadows wielding a knife in a threatening manner he said. "Old man, I don't want no trouble. Give me your wallet, cell phone and car keys and I won't hurts you."

Using the point of the knife the mugger slowly backed Mike up against the restaurant's dumpster.

Phyllis was furious; he had been the captain of his high school's wrestling team. Six months ago he would have picked the assailant up and thrown him in the dumpster. Now thanks to his wife's surgery and the massive amounts of hormones in his system he was a helpless woman in a skirt and high heels.

There was still enough of Phil left to try and find some way to help Mike. Besides there was no way, he was walking back to the office in those heels. Feeling the weight of the purse on his shoulder Phil formed a plan. It was a tad high risk but he had to do something, no one was going to threaten his family. He took the purse strap off his shoulder and held it in his hand so the bag almost drug on the ground. Then as stealthily as possible he attempted to sneak up on the thief.

Phyllis got to within a couple of yards of the young man when the goon evidently heard something. He turned his head to investigate; seeing only a middle aged broad with gigantic hooters, who in his mind presented no threat so he ignored her.

Being dismissed as insignificant; enraged Phil further. With superhuman strength he was able to get the purse over his head and swung it in a circle, with each revelation he picked up speed and therefore momentum. When he got within striking range he attempted to let out a blood curtailing scream — something left over from his Viking ancestors. Unfortunately with his vocal cords being altered, rather than a Danish warrior; it sounded more like a teenage girl who had her toes stepped on. In either case the shriek was affective; the mugger turned his head to investigate the racket. The purse caught him full force on the forehead and knocked him to the ground where he hit his head with a thud.

Mike kicked the knife under the dumpster and stood in awe at the actions of his newest daughter. The man began to moan and was obviously coming too. Mike was concerned, "We need to get out of here before he comes around. We'll let the police handle this."

Phyllis opened her purse, dug through it and pulled a spare pair of pantyhose she had learned to always carry for emergencies. Holding the pantyhose up like a trophy she responded, "No way Dad, this thug threatened my family and his is not getting away with it."

Phyllis tore open the package and had the nylons out in record time. Thirteen seconds later she had her calf hogtied. His hands and feet firmly secured together behind his back.

The man began to thrash about and pull at his bonds. As a final indignity Phyllis calmly sat on him, found her cell phone and nonchalantly called the police. The mugger began yelling obscenities and making threats to Mike and Phyllis. After a second warning to cease and desist, Phyllis lost her patience and once again dove into her treasure trove of a purse. This time she removed a maxi pad unwrapped it and stuffed it into the mouth of the obnoxious thief.

@ @ @ @

Twenty minutes later, a squad car showed up with two uniformed officers, followed closely by a news van from a local television station. Before the crook could be freed they managed to capture a dozen excellent pictures of the perpetrator tied up like a calf at a rodeo. The cops and newsmen all got a good chuckle out of that.

The lead officer, Sgt O'Doul took Mike and Phyllis's statements. While patrolman Sanchez retrieved the knife and took the scoundrel into custody and read him his rights.

The sergeant finished taking statements and was putting his notebook away, when his partner came over to the trio, he dragged the criminal with him. "Look Sarge, she even managed to brand him."

O'Doul gave a quizzical look until he saw the mugger. He had a bruise forming on his forehead that quite clearly was recognizable as that of the Gucci logo.

The newsman leapt on that, and had his cameraman snap a couple of facial shots. He had the caption all planned. "He made her day, Gucci gaucho gets her man."

In a very respectful manner, the rookie Patrolman Sanchez shuffled his feet and apologetically said. "Ma'am I'm so sorry I wasn't able to salvage your stockings. Where'd you learn to tie knots like that? We could save the department a lot of money on handcuffs and just issue patrolman nylons."

Everyone chuckled at the frivolous comment. Phyllis replied, "Oh that's nothing. It's just something I picked up while in the boy scouts."

The policeman ignored the comment and wrote it off as a slip of the tongue.

The news reporter was not as careless. He turned to his cameraman and ordered a dozen more shots of the woman. He took his notebook out and made a note to himself to investigate this when he had time.

@ @ @ @

Getting into the car, Mike turned to his 'new daughter' and said, "As your therapist, after our brush with death, I prescribe an afternoon of relaxation, I am taking you to the best neighborhood bar in the city." Phyllis and Dad called their offices and canceled all their afternoon appointments.

Mike drove for 15 minutes and finally parked in front of a saloon called, 'The Hole in One.'
Phyllis gave her father-in-law a questioning look. "It's not what you think. It's a sports bar."

Phyllis gave her father-in-law a frown of indifference; but said nothing.

"Don't give me that look young lady. Phil was a hell of tennis player; he sure kicked my butt whenever we played. You're still into sports aren't you?"

"Yes; but thanks to Carol I've gone from competitor to cheerleader."

Mike regretted his question, afraid he had just put a damper on the afternoon until Phyllis gave Mike a playful poke in the arm and said, "You should see what I can do with my pompoms. I can really get the crowd up."

This lascivious image popped into Mike's head which caused him to immediately blush San Francisco 49er Scarlet Red.

Phyllis noticed and teased, "What's the matter Dad; you aren't having naughty thoughts about my ta-tas are you?"

Entering the bar, Phyllis's heightened sensibilities depicted the stench of stale beer. Phil shook his head at that realization; it was something he probably never would have noticed several months ago.

"This is my favorite watering hole, my sanctuary away from Liz and Carol. Let's turn off our cell phones, relax and we'll throw back a few beers and just enjoy our afternoon off."

Mike again held Phyllis's chair for him. The two selected a table beneath a 52 inch flat screen TV that was showing a kickboxing match from Bangkok.

Phyllis took a quick look around and casually remarked, "Dad, have you noticed I'm the only woman in here, even the servers are men?"

Mike leaned back and balanced the chair on its two rear legs and put his psychologist hat on. He thought carefully before he spoke. "Phyllis did you hear what you just said?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Then it dawned on him what Mike was referring to.

"What I meant was I'm the only one in here dressed like a woman."

Mike didn't say anything right away. He finally said, "Relax, Phil. We all make Freudian slips like that. Why just yesterday at the breakfast table I meant to say to my Liz, 'Please pass the sugar', but I accidentally said, 'You bitch, you wrecked my life'."

Phil laughed at the old joke but was still very flustered. He changed his drink order from a light beer to a whiskey.

The two spent the afternoon and early evening drinking and talking about interesting cases they had seen.

Mike called for a cab. While they waited, Phil realized he had to take a piss really badly. Mike told him to hurry; their ride would be there any minute. Rushing to the back of the bar where the restroom sign was, Phil found a hall. Phyllis had been using the office bathroom, which was unisex. He was not thinking men or woman with his bladder about to burst, he merely opened the first door he came to and charged in like a bull.

He ran headlong into an elderly gentleman exiting the men's room and knocked the old guy on his keister. Phil looked over the prostrate old man and saw the urinals hanging on the wall. Realizing his mistake, Phil was totally humiliated. He reached out to help the guy up by grasping his hand and in one strong move yanked him to his feet.

The stranger was bewildered; first this totally hot babe knocked him off his feet in the men's room and then about pulled his arm out of his socket helping him up. He had never encountered a woman with that kind of strength. "Miss I believe you are in the wrong room, yours is across the hall."

Phil thinking as fast as he could come up with a logical story, "I'm sorry sir, I didn't know anyone was in here. The plumbing in the woman's toilet is plugged up and I need to use the bathroom, right now. I'm about to have a very embarrassing accident."

The man had been married for 38 years and understood about female problems so he gallantly stepped aside and let her pass. "Miss, I'll watch the door to ensure you're not disturbed. Take your time."

Phil sat on the toilet with his dress bunched up around his waist and emptied his bladder. He took a good look around and sighed while he thought this would probably be the last time he'll ever be able to use a men's room.

Phyllis caught up with Mike just as their cab arrived. Leaving his car behind Mike dropped Phyllis off at his home before going to face the wrath of Liz for being late and drunk. Two excusable offenses but the one that would really get him into the doghouse was not having called.

Phil suspected he had missed dinner. But he was feeling no pain and was willing to except the consequences for his boy's day out. The reception Phil experience was nothing like he anticipated.

He tried to slip into the house undiscovered only to find Carol perched in front of the television. He stood in the hall and listened to the end of a local news cast that described how a local female vigilante had singlehandedly taken down an armed robber. Carol noticed Phyllis standing in the hall and stood to confront her husband. After hearing the news that accurately described his exploits, he expected a hero's welcome from his wife. That's not what he got.

Carol launched an attack at her cross-dressed husband, "Just what the hell were you thinking out there? You risked not only your life but my father's. When I saw your picture and heard how you took on that thug by yourself, it scared me to death. I about had a heart attack. Take a good look at yourself Phyllis. You wear makeup, a bra, skirts and high heels. For Pete's sake, you're not a man any longer. Why can't you accept that? You're one of us now, women scream for help they don't go berserk and attack a mugger."

"Carol, go to hell! I'm still a man. Because of you, I just don't happen to look like one. Now get out of my way, I'm going to take a hot bath."

A pissed off Carol shot back, "I'll bet mister macho man takes a bubble bath."

Phil rolled his eyes in exasperation and used his right-hand to give Carol a very vulgar sign.

Carol snickered and responded with, "Don't forget to shave your legs."

He intentionally decided to camp it up, hoping to annoy Carol; he sashayed down the hall really working his hip swing gait. Reaching his room he made a point of locking the door.

He undressed, throwing his clothes in a pile on the floor. After his long soaking non-bubble bath, Phil was getting ready for bed. He heard a very gentle rapping on the door.

"Phyllis, you haven't eaten anything. I'm sorry for what I said. Please forgive me; I just can't stand the thought of losing you. What would I do if I was all alone? I have dinner ready, please come and eat."

"Go away and leave me alone, I'm not hungry."

"Alright, I made up a tray and will leave it here by the door in case you change your mind."

The smell of pot-roast permeated his room and tormented Phil. He was hungry so he crept to the door and listened for Carol. When all was quiet, he opened the door and carried the try to his bed, where he thoroughly enjoyed the meal. The tray also contained a large glass of wine, if it had been anything but Liebfraumilch, his favorite he would have ignored it. But after the full meal and relaxing bath it seem a great way to end the day.

Phil awoke the next morning with a terrible headache. He should have known better than to mix whiskey with wine. A quick glance around the room showed his dirty dishes were gone as was the pile of clothes on the floor.

Carol stuck her head around the door. "Good you're awake. Here is a glass of orange juice and a couple of aspirin. You didn't relock the door when you brought the tray in. I hope you aren't upset, before bed I took them to kitchen and put your dress in the hamper. I also washed your delicates. They are hanging in your shower. When you feel like it, there is coffee and a sweet roll for breakfast."

Phil knew he was hung-over; but was still taken back by Carol's amiable attitude.

"Thanks honey, I'll be in after I use the facilities."

"Oh, that reminds me, I called a contractor yesterday; I thought we might remodel your bathroom and add a bidet. What do you think?"

Phil wondered, 'What the hell is she up to now?'

Phil tried what he thought was a way to trip up Carol, "If we're going to remodel, with two women in the house now about we enlarge our walk-in closet? We could really use more room."

"That's sweet of you; but by the time they're finished you'll be the only one female living here, remember? Phyllis can take my space; I'll move my new man things into Pill's old corner. Speaking of new clothes, I'm going to move some money out of our saving account to pay for my Carl's new wardrobe. No offense, but I'm going to be a much snapper dresser than you ever were."

Phil sat at the dinette and sipped his coffee. Carol rushed by, kissed him on the cheek and said, "I have to hurry I have an appointment with my psychologist, Doctor McWilliams. When I get home tonight I will have some papers for you to sign. Love you."

Things were moving a lot faster than Phil anticipated. Hel waited until Carol's car pulled away from the house and immediately called Mike. He briefed him on this morning's events and invited him over to be here when Carol got home.

@ @ @ @

Carol arrived home a little after 6 PM to find her father and husband sitting in the living room. She greeted her father with a warm hug and her husband with a quick peck on the lips.

Carol called everyone over to the dining room table where she spread out several sheets of paper.

Carol was seemingly excited as she explained, "These are the consent forms for my surgery. Because of our unusual family circumstances, Doctor McWilliams has agreed to waive the one year waiting period for SRS.

Phyllis, since we are still legally married, your signature is also required. Please sign at the X, Philip David Brown."

"Could you go fix Dad and me a drink while I look these over?"

Once Carol was out of the room, Phil whispered to his father-in-law, "Dad what do I do?"

Mike calmly replied, "Do exactly as she suggests. I'll explain later."

Once the papers were all signed Carol gathered them up and went to her office to fax them to the doctor's office.

"Dad, I don't understand. I thought you said she would never go through with this."

"Relax, you signed Philip David right?"

"Yep."

"Then everything is fine. Don't you remember Carol had your name legally changed to Phyllis Darlene? The signature on those forms is not legal since 'Philip David' no longer exists. Carol knows that, for Pete's sake, she's the one that had your name changed. That is why she was so specific in her instructions to you. I'm convinced this is all part of her ploy. Just before surgery she'll mention to the surgeon about your name change. She'll save face by having it all stopped on a technicality and her grand gesture will be complete."

"I don't know Dad, I'm still really nervous about this whole thing."

"Trust me; I've got it all under control. I saw the date and surgeon's name on the form. He's an old golfing buddy. I'll talk to him and explain it all. Our plan is right on track, when she tells the doctor about your name change. I'll make sure Carol hears me step in and tell him, the forms are correct. Carol's marriage license is made out to Philip David, so that is the name that is required on the form. I'll bet that will give her pause."

"You still plan on letting her have surgery?"

"Yep, I noticed one of the things she requested was for a new nose. She has never liked the one she has since she broke it in grade school. She'll wake up with her head, chest and groin heavily bandaged. We'll give her a new snout just not a masculine one, a little liposuction on her thighs and sides will make believe she has had things done there. We could even give her a set of boobs to match yours. That should teach her it's not nice to fool with Mother Nature."

"Dad, when do we tell her it's all a joke?"

"I don't know we'll play that by ear."

@ @ @ @

The next few days were routine. Then on Thursday, Liz was visiting at her daughter's. They were in the kitchen, chatting. Liz had intentionally avoided the issue of Carol's intended sex change. Liz hoped the whole thing would just fade away, once emotions had calmed down. Carol was at the range fussing over a batch of cookies she was taking out of the oven. Liz was relaxing at the dinette enjoying a cup of hot tea. The doorbell rang, Carol asked, "Mom could you get that for me? I don't want the cookies to burn."

"Sure honey."

Liz called from the front door. Carol it's a package. Do you want me to sign for it?"

"Yes please."

Liz took a mothers prerogative and opened the package on the way to the kitchen. She got to the door and collapsed on the floor, hysterically sobbing. Carol checked her mother's vital signs and became concerned. She was trembling, sweating profusely and short of breath. Liz complained of being dizzy and had a tingling sensation in her fingers. Carol called for an ambulance and followed her mother to the hospital.

Carol, Phyllis and Mike all gathered in the emergency waiting room. The concerned group anxiously waited for the doctor to come and tell them his findings.

A young intern, in scrubs came out with the good news.

"She'll be fine; it was just a panic attack. They're frightening but fortunately physically harmless. Something really scared her. Any idea what was so disturbing as to cause this? We have her under heavy sedation; but she should be able to go home this evening."

As the doctor left, all eyes turned to Carol. She shrugged her shoulders and said, "She open a package addressed to me by mistake. I guess she wasn't prepared for what she found."

Mike stepped up to Carol and got in her face. "Just what could you have gotten in the mail that almost killed your mother?"

"Daddy, she just over reacted. It was my subscription of testosterone."

Phyllis became weak in the knees and had to sit before he did the girly thing of fainting.

Carol drove her car home. Phyllis hadn't recovered sufficiently from the shock to drive so he rode with Mike. "Dad, I thought you said this was all a bluff."

"It is, why else would Carol have your mother open the package. She had to let us know she had a prescription for male hormones. I'll bet if you check the seals will never be broken on the bottles. I'll drop you off and go back and pick up Liz. Just act as if nothing has happened. Call me in the morning."

Phyllis got home and ate half the cookies sitting in the kitchen before Carol slapped his hand and drove him from the kitchen, with a dire warning about ruining his dinner.

At bed time Phyllis snuck into the bathroom and peaked into Carol's medicine cabinet. Right there on the bottom shelf he found three bottles of testosterone cypionate. He noticed one of the bottles had the plastic seal broken. Further investigation revealed the cotton wadding was still firmly in place. Phyllis relaxed, put on his lacy nightgown and crawled into bed and cuddled up to a cotton pajama clad Carol. As he snuggled his breasts against his wife's back, the dichotomy of the situation was not lost on Phyllis.

The next day Phyllis wasn't able to get in touch with Mike until mid afternoon.

"Hi, Phyllis, I was just going to call you. I spent the morning with Randy Johnson, Carol's scheduled surgeon. I explained the entire thing to him. He is willing to play along with us on one very big condition. You have to get Carol to give you a medical power of attorney. I'll fax the form over; you must get her to sign it. Do you think that'll be a problem for you?"

"Gee Dad, I don't know. Does it have to be notarized?"

"No, In California a power of attorney is legal if it is signed by the principal, agent, and two witnesses. Liz and I will sign, to make it all proper."

"Alright, I'll try and let you know."

Phil put his thinking cap on and finally came up with a game plan. Carol had never handled her liquor well. So step one was to get her intoxicated. However it would take more than alcohol to get Carol to lower her guard.

So step two would require he seduce his wife. Carol had been pestering him to join her in a night of passion. In the afterglow of sex he would slip her the paperwork and convince her it was just a routine form the hospital faxed over. He laughed to himself; she was definitely going to get fucked tonight.

He checked out of work early, stopped by the liquor store and the meat market. The he dashed into a local beauty shop for a quick makeover and added highlights to his hair, and had his nails done in fire engine red. The beautician also talked him into buying a bottle of exquisite French perfume that cost as much as his first car. But the heavenly floral aroma was worth it.

Arriving home Phyllis started dinner preparations, once the roast was in the oven and the table set. He turned his attentions to getting dressed.

Phyllis wanted something that would shape and emphasize his fun bags, something both had come to enjoy. After going through every bra in his collection he finally selected on a brassiere that was a present, it came from Liz and was intended to embarrass Phil. Liz had made a major production of presenting it to him, at a family Sunday night dinner. As she handed it to him she wore a Cheshire cat smile and said it was a 'small' gift so Phyllis wouldn't develop back problems. The faux gift was a sexy virgin white G sized, padded underwire pushup Wonderbra covered in delicate almost translucent lace. No one laughed at her joke, although Phil did catch Carol smirking behind a napkin, when he held up the bra to get a look at what was in the box.

Now paradoxically, weeks later Phyllis was going to use the practical joke to deceive his wife. This was the first time he had worn it. He enthusiastically acknowledged the lingerie's finest feature was that its cups only just covered the tops of his dark areolas. Securing it in place and settling his mounds in the cups Phyllis was elated with results. The delicate bit of fluff was sheer enough that his areolas and nipples were unmistakable visible through the taut material. The outcome was just the effect Phil was looking for. The bra fought to contain its massive load, as it lifted his soft breast tissue up into the very top of the cups, and left the jiggling skin perched where it threatened to spill out of the bra.

For a dress, he selected an outfit he had given Carol on Valentine's Day the first year they were married. She had never worn it, as the tags were still attached. It was a sexy figure hugging red strapless mini dress, designed for a smaller woman, than Phyllis. On him it was long enough that when he stood up straight it almost covered the tabs holding up his fishnet stockings. He wrestled with getting the dress past his bodacious bottom. Thank goodness for his Victorian style corset or he never would have gotten the dress past his waist much less the zipper closed. The dress was so tight, Phil was concerned a seam might give way; it resolutely displayed every curve of his body to its maximum effect.

He fluffed his hair out and marveled at the difference the red highlights made to his appearance. Next he attached a pair of long dangling crystal earrings that just barely grazed his shoulders, but caught the light whenever he moved his head. He went to his dresser and put his wedding ring back on. He had refused to wear it for several weeks. He sprayed a thick cloud of the new perfume and stepped into it and let is slowly settle on him. He slipped on his red stilettos, added an extra coat of shinny lip-gloss and he was ready, Carol will never stand a chance.

Returning to the kitchen he took the roast out of the oven, and pulled the homemade bread out of the bread maker, tossed a green salad and opened the wine to let it breathe. For desert he had fresh strawberries and whip cream and a pitcher of frozen margaritas. The scene was all set for his grand seduction.

@ @ @ @

He heard Carol's car pull into the driveway. He hid in the kitchen waiting for his chance.

"Hi honey I'm home."

"Hang up your coat, there's a drink waiting for you on the coffee table; I'll have dinner ready in a minute."

Carol welcomed her cheery reception, Phil hadn't cooked in weeks. It had been a long tiring day and she was glad to be relieved of kitchen duties for the night. She hung her suit coat in the hall closet and walked the few feet into the living room. She bent and picked up the glass of wine on the table. She had to carefully lift it to her lips as it was filled to the very brim on the verge of overflowing. While Carol's attention was focused on the wineglass, Phyllis made a stealthful approach from behind. As Carol stood sipping her drink, Phyllis moved in behind her and stood so close his breasts just lightly grazed her back. Phyllis delicately moved his tits across Carol's back.

Carol sensed rather than felt the presence of someone behind her. She took a large sip of wine and leaned back to confirm her suspicions and took a deep breath of the feminine aroma. She wasn't sure what was happening, what had gotten into her husband. But one never looks a gift horse in the mouth. Phyllis continued to provide Carol a tit massage, each lap across her back the pressure increased. Carol gulped her wine, and then threw caution to the wind as she dropped the now empty glass on the carpet. She twisted around to face her husband and slipped her fingers into his hair firmly gabbing Phyllis's locks. Carol brought her lips to his. Phyllis opened his mouth expecting the thrust of her tongue. Instead she fed him the wine from her mouth. Phyllis's world spun. The wine was so much more intoxicating coming from her, as the warmth of the fluid slid over his tongue and down his gullet. Phyllis melted, he lost track of himself and everything around them. Carol placed her other hand behind his head, and crushed him harder to her, smashing their lips against each other. The last of the wine passed from Carol's mouth to his and her tongue replaced it, delving into his warmth as if to explore every bit of him. Phil's plan was crumbling, his forehead glistened in perspiration he clenched his fists, in frustration. It was his plan to seduce Carol. She had taken the lead away from him, she had become the aggressor.

Carol was intoxicated by the promise of a union with her beloved husband. He tasted of wine and the promise of sex, and he smelled of a heavenly scent. Phyllis broke the kiss and leaned back. Carol for the first time was provided a panoramic view of the creature before her. Caroled swooned at the sight of her normally shy and demur husband; shamelessly displaying his headlights like a common trollop. She threw herself into the arms of her blonde bombshell and hugged him for all she was worth. And said, "Welcome home lover."

Phil half carried, half led Carol to the dining room, he seated her at the head of the table. He turned on some romantic music and plied Carol with wine, women and song. Except when he was serving the dishes, he sat next to Carol and made it a point to always maintain some sort of physical contact. He even cut up her food and fed it to her one bite at a time.

It was the most romantic dinner either had ever had. But all good things must end.

Phyllis stood and kissed Carol's ear. "I've laid out a nightgown for you in the spare bedroom. Please wear it for me. I'll be on our bed waiting for your return. I'm going to change into something more comfortable."

Not waiting for a response, Phyllis scurried off to the bedroom, caring the half empty pitcher of margaritas and two glasses. He had prepared an outfit designed to make Carol's heart skip a beat. He first reapplied his lip gloss and perfume then donned a lacy black Baby doll lingerie outfit sans the undies - for easy access. It hugged his curves with a sheer veil of mesh and fishnet. The sexy lingerie set revealed every inch of his body while framing his assets in a salacious look. It tied at the halter neck for the perfect fit; the stretchy nightdress clung to his every curve and accentuated the intimate details of his nude body beneath.

This time Carol made the surreptitiousness approach. She was wearing a diaphanous floor length white silk nightgown that contrasted perfectly with her husband's night dress. Sneaking up behind her sexy husband, Carol was in lust. This was the first time since his feminization that Phil had shown any real interest in her as a sexual partner. She grabbed him by the shoulders and spun him around and kissed him like she had on their honeymoon. As their tongues fenced, Phil's pent up sexual desire went into over drive.

Carol pushed Phyllis on to the bed and tried to mount him like the old days. Phil was overcome by feelings of nostalgia. His manhood was no longer usable as a piston; but the swelling little root still retained all its nerve endings. Carol suckled on his large sensitive nipples as she humped her crotch against his nub. It wasn't like before but it was satisfying. Phil had his first climax since the tragic mix-up. It was glorious.

Carol lay next to her husband, her libido yet to be satisfied and sadly said, "Honey, I'm sorry you're no longer a man, it's my entire fault."

"Who says I'm no longer a man? I may be missing my testicles, but that is not the definition of manhood. Let me show you what your man can do!"

With that Phil buried his head between Carol's legs and with as much gusto as he could muster he licked and sucked his wife to an earth shattering organism.

Carol returned the favor between Phyllis's legs and aggressively nibbled her husband's responsive man clit. Sleep was not on the agenda that night; it was filled with nothing but loving fantastic sex.

As the morning light shown through the window, Carol was the first to rise. After a cup of coffee she returned and sat on the bed, waking her husband. "Phyllis I need to thank you, that was an unbelievable night. I'll remember it always. What I did to you is unforgiveable. I am truly sorry.

I know you can't thank me now but looking at you, I can't but believe I've created a masterpiece. A haunting beauty, maybe someday you will appreciate the gift I have given you."

Carol mused, 'Now I'm so confused. If I thought it were possible for us to be happy living as two lesbians, it would change everything.'

Carol pushed a lock of hair aside and kissed him on the forehead. She stood to leave then turned, "Oh, I found the papers on the dresser. I assume you wanted me to sign them, so I did. I'll leave them in the kitchen next to your breakfast. Have a great day lover, I'll see you tonight.

@ @ @ @

The next night was surreal. Phyllis came home to find Carol waiting, dinner on the table.

As they finished a light meal of leftovers, Carol was cleaning up; Phyllis stood and offered to help.

With an eerie calmness to her voice Carol said, "No thanks snookums, after tonight this will be your job. How about it, once more for old times' sake? While I finish up here, take your girlie melons into the bedroom. I'm in the mood for dessert."

True to her word, husband and wife had another night of sexual bliss. Phyllis awoke the next morning to find Carol had already left the house. He thought, 'Two nights in a row and I'm exhausted and my nipples are sore. I'm not getting any younger I guess. Tonight I only want a quiet evening of cuddling.'

Phyllis quickly dressed and left for the office. The morning was routine and quite frankly boring. That all changed after lunch. Phyllis had just returned from the cafeteria and was met by his receptionist, Janet.

"Excuse me Doctor Turner; while I was out to lunch you received a message." Janet snickered at the thought of the best looking woman in the building having a wife. But it is San Francisco, so she went on, "Is your wife ill?"

"What are you talking about Jan?"

"The message was from Middletown Hospital confirming your wife's surgery time as 3 PM today; they said she had to be at admitting no later than 1:30."

"Are you sure you got that straight?"

Janet handed Phyllis the phone and confirmed, "Yes Doctor, it is on voice mail. Here you can listen to it."

Phil looked at his new feminine wristwatch and had to squint to read the numbers on the smaller watch face. "Shit, it's already after 1 PM."

Phyllis called Carol's cell phone only to find it was turned off. He tried her office and only got her answering service. He was told the doctor wouldn't be available for a couple of weeks.

"Janet would you please call Doctor Friedman, and ask if he can take my afternoon patients, those he can't please reschedule. I have to run home to find out what's going on."

Phil drove home like a madman, only slowing at stop signs and taking 'yellow' at stop lights very liberally. He ran into the house, to find a note taped on the refrigerator door. 'Honey, I should have told you, but I was afraid you would try and talk me out of it. The hospital called and had an opening on their surgical schedule. It's a different doctor but I checked out his credentials and he is considered one of the best on the west coast for my procedures. So please don't worry about me. I volunteered to go in early for my SRS. I'm at Middletown if you feel like visiting.

'I love you. I'll see you in recovery.'

Phil ran to his car and phoned Mike in route. "Dad, Carol changed her surgery she is having it at 3 today! Can you get there? I'm almost an hour away."

"Oh lord, Liz has my car; hers' is in the shop. I'll catch a taxi and meet you there. If her surgery is scheduled for 3, that means she's the last one of the day. They normal run late so we should have plenty of time to get there before she does something dumb."

"Dad, you are scaring me, I thought you said this was all a bluff."

"I know what I said. Did something happen between you two that might have changed her mind?"

"Well we did have jungle sex the last couple of nights."

"Were you or she the aggressor? If she has come to think of herself as the Alpha in your marriage, it may be the catalyst to push her into going through with this. You better get there as soon as you can and talk her out of this."

Phyllis drove like a mad woman. He ran every stop sign and only slowed for stop lights. The speed limits were mere suggestions as Phyllis raced through the late afternoon traffic.

Then it happened, a police car pulled in behind Phyllis's car and turned on its lights and siren. Phil screamed, "Shit, shit!" as he pounded the steering wheel in frustration.

He rolled down his window and reached for his purse to get his license. He was searching in the glove box for his registration when a familiar face appeared at the window. It was Officer Sanchez; Phyllis didn't wait to be asked and simply handed the documents to the officer. He scanned them and recognizing the picture on the driver's license, he looked up in surprise. "It's you Mrs. Turner, where's the fire?"

"I'm sorry I was speeding. It's my wife she is having surgery."

"Excuse me, did you say wife?"

"I'm a nervous wreck, what I meant to say was my husband's wife is having an emergency surgery. Realizing this wasn't any better he added my husband's first wife is having surgery."

Phyllis batted her eyelashes at the policeman and in her sexiest pleading voice said, "Can't you let me go this once? I'll come into the station and pay the fine and fill out the paper work later. Please."

Sanchez folded his ticket book away and said, "Nonsense, the city owes you for helping keep our streets crime free. What hospital is she at? I will give you a police escort to the front door. Just stay on my tail. I'll say a prayer for her at mass on Sunday. Now let's get going!"

The officer was a man of his word they pulled into the parking lot at 2:45. Phyllis parked in the first available spot, as chance would have it, it was a handicapped spot.

@ @ @ @

In room 834, Carol waited on her bed; the anesthesiologist was fiddling with her IV. Carol with a slurred voice asked, "Could I please speak to the doctor? There is something really important we need to discuss."

"Relax Mrs. Turner; it's natural to be nervous before any surgery. The doctor has everything under control. He'll speak to you in recovery."

He turned his attention to the IV and turned on the drip.

Carol tried to sit up and begged, "Please I must talk to him."

She closed her eyes, collapsed back into the bed and fought to not lose consciousness. The doctor whispered, "Now close your eyes you're in good hands. When you wake; you'll be a new person."

@ @ @ @

Phyllis rushed to the front desk and inquired on Carol's situation. It took the village idiot working the information desk 15 minutes to find Carol on his computer."

Finally he relayed that, "She's in room 834 waiting to go to surgery."

Phyllis ran to the bank of elevators and pushed the up button, and pushed it again and again. A ding sounded behind him and Phyllis scurried past a little old lady using a walker to catch the car before the doors closed. He pushed the 8th floor button. As chance would have it the car stopped on every floor.

Exiting on the 8th floor he scanned the signs announcing room numbers. His heart racing, he found a sign for 834. He pushed open the door expecting to find his wife. Instead he found an orderly cleaning the room. "Where's the woman who was in here?"

"I'm sorry madam, you just missed her; she was taken to surgery five minutes ago. The surgical waiting room is on the third floor. There is no telling what room she'll be assigned to for recovery."

The wailing could be heard on the 7th floor as Phyllis was led to the nurses' station and given a strong sedative.

TO BE CONTINUED:

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