Weeks ten to sixteen in Tom’s journey. Tom and his wife are starting to get more inside information on Justin’s business, but are no further forward in trying to escape from his evil control. Tom is starting to find himself acting more often as a woman without thinking. Sam is realizing just what this journey means to their life together.

Chapter 13

Week ten and more good news, we had been successful in both of the other contract bids. We would now have to advertise for another member of staff. I had my second visit to the psychiatrist that week. I was worried how to approach it. Sam suggested that it was time that I went the whole hog and dressed completely as a woman. It was becoming increasingly difficult to look anything convincingly male. My outward appearance was quite female but I still had a lot of old macho Tom in my actions. I wasn’t thinking female unless I worked at it.

I got dressed in my most female outfit of jeans, soft sweater and short jacket worn with a pair of flat ankle boots. We hit the shops. It was confusing and overwhelming. First it was underwear, slips and blouses and t shirts and stockings and tights. Night attire was unnecessary because we both slept in the nude. I did, however, get a silky dressing gown. We then started on skirts and tops with a couple of dresses, one to just above the knee and one to mid calf. Two coats, three handbags and four pairs of shoes later and we started to accessorise. Dangly ear rings, new studs, rings, bangles a couple of necklaces and two scarves later and we were nearly done. The last stop was to get more make up that suited my colour and to arrange a visit to the hairdresser. I had enjoyed the shopping exercise for the first time. Shoe shopping was a blast, so much choice in style colour and heel height. I was getting hooked on retail.

From now on I was going to wear more overtly women’s clothes full time. We bumped into one or two people that we knew. Some cut us dead, others nodded and said hello. When we returned home Sam had me give her a fashion show. We discussed what items went together and what clashed. Sam suggested that I wear a heeled shoe more often, just to get used to the different balance. From that point on I started wearing skirts and tops and adding heavy tights when I went out. By now I had lost nearly a stone and my muscle definition was fading fast. We decided to do without the corset from now on because of the discomfort and restriction in my movement. My waist was now comfortably down to 28 inches without the corset and with the increased padding on my hips and bum, I was starting to look a bit curvy. My breasts were more than just nipples now. There was a definite but small fleshiness under each nipple. It was strange when I was doing aerobics because I could feel a slight but definite jiggle.

When I first started trying out the skirts I felt very exposed. The tighter longer skirts made me feel less exposed but they restricted my movement in an uncomfortable way. The shorter, full cut, skirts were comfortable to wear but the wind about my willie was unnerving. When I wore a short skater style skirt and thick tights, I felt both free and protected. Sam said that now I was dressing overtly as a woman, I should get a bigger cup bra and start enhancing my breasts with fillets. She then proceeded to dig through her clothes and came up with two things that looked like chicken breasts. When I asked what the hell they were, Sam explained that she had been a very late developer and had used every help she could get. It meant another visit to the lingerie shop and new bras. With my little swellings and the fillets I could now show a convincing A cup bust line. It made me look more balanced.

Dresses were another matter. I just could not feel comfortable in a dress. They just did not feel right. Somehow they were too girly in a way that a skirt and tights were not.

When I saw the psychiatrist, I was smartly dressed in a skirt and blouse with a pair of heavy tights. I wore drop ear rings and modest make up. The drop ear rings had a strong effect on me. Every time I moved my head, I could feel them bump on my neck. It was a constant reminder of what I was doing to myself, even when I could not see reflections of what I looked like. Whilst I still hated the idea of being a woman, I loved the way that they brushed my neck. My nails were coated in a soft pink and I wore two rings on each hand. My hair was now getting longer and with all the conditioning treatment it had been getting, it bounced and shone. My shoes were a modest pair of casuals with a one inch heel. I did not get one person clock me as male and I received several appraising looks from women and interested looks from men. I was getting away with looking like a tallish, elegant but heavily built woman.

I took a pride in looking smart and keeping my make up reserved but fresh. I had started wearing lipstick. It was strange when I kissed Sam. It unnerved her.

The psychiatrist gave me an intense grilling. How did I feel about dressing full time? What was the reaction of my family? What was the reaction of my wife? Were we still having regular sex? How was it? How did I feel about it? Was I getting any erectile difficulties? Was there any change in my sexual orientation? What emotional problems was I having? What did I feel about the physical changes? What did I see as the future of Sam and me? Did I want to go for full sexual reassignment? What support groups was I part of?

I answered the questions trying hard to ensure that I was still coming across as someone who wanted to realign their sex to come into line with their emotional and mental gender. The questions were making me think at a much deeper level about the path that I was on and the possible consequences.

Sam questioned me deeply about my visit and the answers that I had given. She was quiet and thoughtful for quite a time afterwards. I still thought of myself as Tom, the bloke, but I suppose that I was unconsciously becoming less blokey and more female. I wasn’t aware of it but I think that some of the time, I wasn’t playing at being female but actually being female. I was finding that I was using female mannerisms and behaviour more often and less consciously.

People were treating me as female and that felt very different. I was addressed differently in shops. Men treated me quite differently, it had been a gradual thing, but now it was very noticeable. I found it irritating, because I was still me, although I was putting on an act.

Now that my face had changed, I knew that I no longer looked like a bloke, but I still felt like one. It was strange. I was still very male but I did not dislike my new face. It was much more attractive than my old face. Even though it still did not feel like mine. I quite liked the fact that I could use make up to make it even better. I liked the fact that my choice of clothing had become much more interesting, fun and challenging. I could see why women enjoyed shopping and clothes.

Whilst I had been at the psychiatrists, Sam had made a breakthrough with our Justin research. She had discovered the addresses of properties in London and Manchester owned by one of Justin’s subsidiaries. One property in Manchester appeared to be a large Victorian building. The other two properties appeared to be clubs. We decided to go and scout them out.

We went to look at the London address. It was a club in the Earls Court/ Hammersmith area. We went and had a coffee at a place just opposite and watched it for a while. There was little outside to give much idea what sort of club it was, just a sign saying The Kit Kat Club. A rather large gentleman stood at the door in a dark suit. It seemed strange to see what looked like a bouncer on the door at three in the afternoon. The clientele, going in and out, were an odd bunch. It was mostly men, singly or in small groups. None of the men looked particularly cuddly. Most looked distinctly scary. There were the odd women going in. Without exception, they were dressed much more sexily than one would expect at three in the afternoon.

We speculated what sort of establishment this might be and all we could come up with, was that it was a strip joint, sex club or something similar. We decided that the easiest way would be to go and ask the bouncer about the club. Sam did the talking.

“High handsome, we are new to this area and have been scouting out places that might be fun to go to. What sort of a club is this? Is it one where we could have some fun, do some dancing, meet sexy guys?”

“Come back after nine girls, the club is open to outsiders then. During the day it is a private members club. In the evening there is music and dancing and all pretty girls are welcome free of charge. I can guarantee you some action if you come.”

“Thanks handsome, we might well take you up on that.”

The place looked a bit risky but we thought that it was worth checking what was going on in the club.

When we got home we looked to see what sort of outfits we could wear to the club. Sam had plenty of sexy outfits but all mine were a bit conservative. Nothing ventured, we went out and found a sexy number that came to mid thigh and showed a fair bit of cleavage that I did not have. Next we were off to Victoria secrets for a push up bra and the purchase of a pair of fillet fillers.

Sam showed me how to use tape to push and lift my minimal breasts together, then with the bra cups filled with fillets under my miniscule breasts, my cleavage looked almost impressive.

“Where did you learn that trick?”

“You forget that I was a late developer and I used every trick in the trade until my girls grew to their happy size.”

“And most lovely they are too. Let me just admire them more closely.”

“Behave, you can play later but now we have a mission to fulfil.”

When we were ready to go we looked like a pair of sexy girls. That was no surprise in Sam’s case but it shocked me that I could look convincingly female. We took a taxi to the club and arrived about ten o clock. It was clear that the action had started. There were two new bouncers on the door and when one saw us in the queue he waved us forward and ushered us in. Inside the club was dark and loud. There was plenty of seating in booths round the sides. In front of the dance floor was a DJ in a booth. We took an empty booth and a waitress in an extremely short skirt, and a top that barely covered her nipples came and asked us what we would like. We ordered a couple of glasses of wine and sat back and watched.

Even in our sexy outfits we were almost frumpish compared with most of the women in the club. As our eyes got accustomed to the gloom, we realized that there were a number of doors leading off the main room. In no time we were being hit on by guys. Sam advised me to accept no drinks that we did not see poured and not to come back to a drink that had been left. We refused the first few invitations to dance but thought that we should show willing for a while. After half an hour dancing in shoes with a higher heel than I had ever worn before, I was feeling knackered. I had been groped, offered drugs, propositioned, kissed, fondled and asked how much I wanted if we went into one of the side rooms for a shag or a blow job. My inclination had been to get physical and sort the bastards out, but I am not sure I would have had the strength any more.

I had kept an eye on Sam but as I came off the dance floor I lost sight of her. A feeling of panic came over me as I searched, until I saw her being forcibly dragged towards one of the side rooms by a rather large tough looking guy. I got over to her just as he was about to pull her through the door. None of the other punters had looked at all interested in helping her, even though it was clear that she was being forced against her will. I walked up to the guy and with a smile reached towards his face as if I wanted to kiss him. At the same time I ground my stiletto heel into his instep with all my force. A look of surprise and pain went across his face and he released Sam as he bent and clutched his foot. I kneed him in the face and grabbed Sam. We made a rapid escape through the door to the club.

“Thanks love, that was too close for comfort. That wanker offered me fifty quid for a blow job in one of the side rooms. When I refused he said that he might as well have a fuck for free in that case. He was far too strong for me. It was clear from the lack of reaction from the other punters that it wasn’t unusual to see women being forced.”

We hailed a taxi and sped home. That night we were almost frantic with our love making. We had both been shocked and scared. It was clear that the club was as much a knocking shop as a club and that drugs were being openly sold. Justin was making money through drugs and the sex trade. We could see it for ourselves, but how could we use the information against Justin?

One thing that struck me about the evening was that I had dressed fully as a female. I had been able to come across as a fairly sexy woman. I had coped with being groped and molested, without totally reverting to male behaviour. I had played a part convincingly and without having to think too deeply about it. What did that mean about me? The most worrying thing, though, was that my loss of strength meant that I was no longer a match for men that I could have flattened three months ago.

Chapter fourteen

Week eleven and work was going extremely well. We had more enquiries about systems and one enquiry that would be our biggest yet if we got it. We had many applications to sort through and had a group chat with Tim and Jackie to decide what we were looking for in our new team member. We decided to let Jackie and Tim do the initial interviews and create a short list from which Sam and I would pick.

We were wondering how to proceed with our information about the London club when Sam remembered a retired Detective chief inspector who had been a friend of her father’s. She got the contact details from her mum and arranged a meeting. She had given a brief outline of our suspicions about Justin’s set up and her dad’s friend was intrigued.

When they met Sam explained that Justin had a hold over us and we had knowledge that he had been involved in illegal activities. The Bangkok connection was ruled out almost straight away. Unless there was some additional evidence forthcoming, that end of the business would not be touched. The London club was a different matter. In order to get some sort of conviction we would need proof that Justin was supplying the drugs or that he was taking a percentage or fee from the prostitutes using his club. The worst that could happen otherwise, would be that Justin lost his licence.

When asked about the possible money laundering, he said that it was extremely unlikely that the police would have the interest or resources to pursue the case. HRMC might be interested but he doubted it. He did say that he would get in touch with old colleagues and see whether he was a person of interest to the police. If so then the police might be interested in our information.

It was disappointing to say the least. We needed something stronger to get Justin out of our hair.

Tim continued to hack away but could not get past Justin’s encryption. We found the website for the London club and even found a way into their system. The levels of encryption again frustrated us.

I was starting to get very used to dressing and presenting as female. My relationship with Sam continued to evolve. She treated me as a best female friend most of the time and would prattle and chat away to me. I noticed that when we made love now, she favoured a position where she was on top and straddled me. She still tended to keep her eyes closed when we made love. When I asked her about it she was thoughtful for a while. She eventually said that if she closed her eyes and straddled me, I felt like Tom. If she looked at me she could see a woman and it was disturbing. When we lay together, hugging, she was conscious of my nipples and small but visible breasts. It felt wrong with me inside her and feeling my erect nipples brushing against her. She said that she could not help how she felt. She still loved me just as much and she loved when we cuddled and played with each others breasts, but she loved sex with me as a man. Before we had got together as a couple back at uni, she had only had sex with one other boy and it had been a disaster. After we had got together she realized that she absolutely loved sex and would now find it difficult to do without. I told her that I had no intention of ever letting her do without.

Coincidentally, it was about this time when I noticed that I was taking longer to get an erection. I used to get an erection just thinking about Sam, now they were a little slower to come. We had taken to sex in the mornings with greater frequency, when my erections were like rock. It was a nice way to wake up. I was also finding it much easier to wear the gaff. My balls slipped inside now without discomfort and I went all day without even thinking about it.

We had started to look at dating sites to see about making suitable dates. I started correspondence with several men who we had picked out. It was an unusual feeling as Sam asked me about the various men. Did I think this one was attractive? What about the looks of that one? Could I see myself snogging another one? At one level I was able to think about them as potential dates, but when I stood back it made me feel very uncomfortable. When I raised this with Sam she told me that I had to get over it and just be brave. I asked her how she felt discussing possible dates for me. She said that the dates were not for her lovely husband, Tom, they were for her best friend Jen. When I asked her who Jen was, she said that the only way she could handle things with me, was to think of me as her best friend Jen when we were dealing with things like dates, and Tom when we were just the two of us being husband and wife.

I now had a name. From that point on, when Sam wanted to talk about girly things, she called me Jen.

At the end of the week I met with the endocrinologist. He expressed surprise and pleasure at how quickly I was responding to the hormones. He said that my rate of development was similar to that of a girl going through puberty. It was much faster than the average for someone of my age transitioning. My blood and urine samples were showing that there were no problems and it looked as though I was going to be lucky and have normal breast development. I looked as though I would avoid the cone like breasts or a situation where one was much bigger than the other. He said that my development so far, was what he would have expected after five to six months, rather than after just under three months. I was clearly at Tanner stage 2 and he thought that I would be at Tanner stage 3 within another three months.

When I told Sam about the doctor’s comments, she mirrored my concerns. In one way it was good that the transition was going so smoothly and that I could already pass as a woman. On the other hand we were getting further down the rabbit hole at a scary rate. We talked about coming off the hormones for a while, but I had already had my shots for the next month.

Chapter Fifteen

Week twelve and Tim and Jackie were carrying out interviews. Sam and I got on with our increasing work load. In the evenings we trawled the dating sites and corresponded with likely men. We even got to the stage where I was going to go out on a trial date. We picked a likely character and set up a date in an Indian restaurant that we knew.

My date turned out to be older fatter and with a lot less hair than his photo. I had been worried before hand that I would not be able to keep my end of the conversation up. Sam assured me that it would not be a problem, men liked to talk about themselves and were not interested in what a woman had to say. On the website he had claimed to be thirty and single. I could see the imprint of a wedding band on his finger where he had obviously removed it. When I asked him if he had ever been married he said no.

He was probably over forty, about two stone over weight and with bad breath. He droned on about how important his job was and how successful he had been. He hardly asked me a question and I started to understand what Sam had said. After the meal he paid the bill and said that he had booked a room in a local hotel and would I like to join him. At that point, to his discomfort, I burst out laughing and had difficulty stopping. When he realized that I was not going to the hotel with him, he enquired about a follow up date. Not a hope in hell.

Sam had a big smug told you so when I got home. We spent the rest of the evening discussing how thoughtless, selfish and boring men could be. We just cuddled in bed that night. Somehow the experience had knocked a great chunk of maleness out of me. In the morning, I was restored and our love making was passionate and thoughtful. We brought each other to glorious climaxes.

We decided to go to Manchester to look at the two buildings that Justin had there. We booked into a hotel and motored up. We looked at both properties. The club looked just like the one in London. The clientele and name were both the same. The other property was a large run down property that seemed to be let out by the room. Judging by the people coming in and out, some were most likely prostitutes, some were immigrants and some were just desperately poor people. The whole building made me think of Rachman and his London slum exploitation.

We went back to our hotel and dressed up to go to the club. We vowed to keep together and just observe. We only aimed to stay for a short time. When we got to the club the interior was very similar to the London club. The waitresses were similarly dressed and the clientele were the same bunch of hoods and hookers. We got our first drink at the bar and sat and watched what was going on. We were hit on time after time but politely declined. We ordered a second drink through the waitress. Sam slowly sipped hers but I had not enjoyed the first drink so I let mine sit. We were only sat for another ten to fifteen minutes when I realized that Sam was starting to talk gibberish. Her eyes were glazed and she was swaying. I took one more look and put her arm round my shoulder. Lifted her up and marched her out of the club. Out of the corner of my eye I could see two large gentlemen moving towards us.

I rushed Sam out and we were lucky that a cab was just outside. I pushed Sam in dived in after her and locked the door.

“Drive, now.”

The poor startled driver pulled away from the curb and started down the street. We had gone two hundred yards before he pulled in and said that he was a mini cab and he was not able to pick up customers from the street. I asked him what his phone number was and as he told me, I dialed it. His phone rang and I booked his taxi from now and from here to take me to the street where the hotel was. I didn’t want to say which our hotel was in case the hoods tracked him and asked where we were. It took all my strength to hold Sam up and get her to our room. She was in a daze. I realized that I could get her to cooperate by giving her instructions. I soon had her tucked safely in bed.

The following morning Sam woke with a splitting headache and no memory of what had happened after we went into the club. It was a narrow escape and it scared us. Even at my full strength I would not have been able to deal with one of the thugs, never mind two. After nearly three months on hormones my muscle mass had reduced considerably and I knew that I would have to rely on brains not brawn from now on.

We discussed going to the police. Sam would still have traces of the drug in her veins. We would probably not be able to ID the two thugs and we did not know for certain whether they spiked the drinks. We were stuck. We had nothing to do but head back to London with a little more knowledge, but in reality, no further on.

That weekend we wanted to go out just the two of us for a romantic evening. When I dressed as Tom, I didn’t look right. My face and figure said woman. If we went to a pub or club, we could not cuddle and kiss without comments from other customers. Sam had a brilliant solution. We went to a gay club that was mainly for lesbians. It was great. We danced, we snogged and we chatted and no one turned a hair. We were normal there. We got talking to other patrons both couples and groups, and the friendly welcome was wonderful. As we talked we found some of the sharpness of wit, very funny. The only mild draw back was one butch lesbian who was throwing her weight around and trying to muscle in. In no time she had been reduced to embarrassed silence by the ascorbic wit of our friends. When we got home Sam was much more relaxed about our love making. We mixed playing with each others breasts, kissing and cuddling with joyfully frantic fucking. Sam was giving me full eye contact and enjoying the way our nipples brushed against each other. It was as if she had suddenly given herself permission.

Week thirteen and we had a shortlist to interview. There were three women and one bloke. They were all good but one woman, Megan, stood out. She was fun and easy going with a most impressive background of knowledge and experience. The clincher was that she had worked with the local police advising them about hacking and how to prevent it. Tim bowed to her superior skills. We could use her knowledge to make our systems secure and at the same time try to get into Justin’s system.

Megan was told that I was transitioning to become a woman. She was quite happy with it and expressed surprise that I was not a genetic woman. Megan said that she would be free to start with us, part time, next week and full time two weeks later.

Sam and I were frantically busy with the growing work load, but we made time to see my parents. I did not bother with trying to look like Tom. I just dressed as I had been doing. Strangely enough, neither mum, nor dad treated me as anything other than a daughter. It was bizarre but strangely comforting.

Sam’s mum had not said anything negative, but it was very clear that she was most uncomfortable in my presence. Sam had taken to seeing her on her own, to make life easier. It was clear after the last time she called in to see her mum, that she had been getting on at her.

“Tom, assuming that we can find some way out from under Justin, are we going to be OK?”

“How do you mean?”

“Well after only three months you have changed. You have changed physically but your personality is also changing. You are much less aggressive, more thoughtful, less competitive and more caring.”

“That sounds like a few positives to me.”

“Yes they are and it’s great but….”

“But what?”

“I kind of miss the old manly Tom, who could be self centered demanding and could give a girl a right good seeing to. You are much more considerate now.”

“It worries me too Sam. I can play the female role without thinking about it now, most of the time. Nobody shouts tranny anymore. I may go back to being male full time when I can, but this experience will leave its scars. Will we be alright afterwards?”

“I love you whatever. My commitment is to us for ever. If our relationship evolves, so be it, but you are my soul mate.”

That was the most reassuring thing that I could have heard.

The nastiest thing we could have heard came next. Justin’s lawyers got in touch to remind us that we were now one quarter of the way through the wager. Terms were to be met without fail. Any evidence that we had told people of the terms of the wager would put us into forfeit. I still had nine months left to meet the full terms of the wager. Justin was employing private detectives to monitor us and ensure that terms of the wager were met in full. Lastly Justin was willing to release us from the wager if I agreed to take up employment for him in the Thai office under the previously detailed terms.

That was one hell of a wake up call. We immediately got hold of the small group of people that we had confided in and reminded them of the need for secrecy. We spoke to each of them face to face rather than use phones or email. We did not know if our phones were being hacked. The next thing we did was to get our home and studio swept for bugs. We knew that Justin had several illegal operations. He would not hesitate to bug us if he could.

Sam and I talked the situation through. Any thoughts that I had had about withdrawing from taking the hormones and letting Tom resurface had to be binned. We had to have things fully covered until we could find a way out. Three months in and we were not much nearer nailing Justin.

Later that week, we were out walking when two very large gentlemen came and boxed us in against a wall. They told us that a little bird had told their friend that we had had been prying into his business. If he found us doing that again, we would both disappear and would both be sold into the sex trade. He was enjoying seeing how the wager played out, but, if he lost patience, we would be lost.

As soon as they came they were gone. We were both rattled. How did he know about our investigations?

That weekend we went to the gay club again and had a real fun evening. Sunday was a lovely cuddly day. It was one of those winter days when the air was crisp and you could tell spring was round the corner. We took a lovely long walk either side of a pub lunch and then curled up in front of the fire and listened to music.

Chapter Sixteen

Week fourteen and Megan joined us.

“High guys, I am looking forward to working with you. Where do I sit?”

We got Megan settled in and showed her how our systems work. It turned out that Tim had whetted her appetite about the opportunities to hack and she asked if she could go over what Tim had managed to do so far. By lunch time she told us that the encryption that Justin was using was high grade and beyond her abilities to crack easily. She also warned that his protection system was good enough to recognize when hacking was attempted and it was probable that he had the ability to identify hackers.

She then explained a way that could protect us from discovery. It effectively meant having a powerful machine separate from the rest of the system and set it up so that it is constantly changing its IP address. She said that she could set up a system that week. We gave her our blessing.

Sam and I carried on mining the websites to try to find contacts that were more than just outlets for those wanting affairs. We thought we had struck lucky with one site and had corresponded with two potential targets. I made a date to meet each of them. The first was a boring, smelly sad man who had nothing going for him other than to elicit the pity of those that met him. I was so depressed after my meeting with him. The second was the complete opposite. He was tall, good looking and very smartly turned out. He was witty, attentive and interesting. He was a wonderful easy listener and an absolute joy to be with. The evening flew by and I had a lot of fun. If I had been a woman, I could have fallen for him very easily. There was something about him that oused sex appeal. Even though I was a man, I could feel it. Boy was the evening fun. He made me feel womanly and sexy, which was no mean feat, considering. I was sorry when the evening ended and thought to myself that I must make sure that Sam never meets him. It was clear from the start that he did not want any commitment. He loved women, spending time with them. He loved getting to know women and most of all he loved sex with women and fulfilling their dream fantasies. He was sex on legs. I was almost sorry that I was not a real woman. I might have been tempted.

When I told Sam about him later there was a distinct twinkle in her eye. I found her later looking his profile up on the website.

“Don’t even think about it.”

“Who me, as if I would. He is a hunk though. What was his name?”

“James, now put him down and switch off.”

After my evening with James I was horny as hell. Sex that night was a bit more animal than usual. As we lay cuddling, exhausted, Sam turned to me.

“Be honest did you think of James at all when we were making love?”

I did not quite know how to answer.

“You rat, you did think of him.”

“Maybe, did you?”

“Not a fair question.”

“Neither was yours, did you?”

“Yes.”

That was a little bit of a thought provoker for both of us. I had been glad that I had selected an outfit that showed me off to my best advantage. I had taken care over my make up and I had worn sexy underwear. What was I thinking of.

When Megan came in she asked if she could try a little more hacking. She said that she had been thinking about the challenge and we may have more joy trying to hack the French subsidiary rather than the parent company. A couple of hours later and we heard the happy cry.

“I’m in.”

Another couple of hours and Megan told us that she had got into email records which were encrypted. She had assumed that the emails would be in French and English. She had not been able to crack the code until she realized that some of the emails were in Russian. All she could make out was that the emails referred to shipments, locations and dates. When we examined the locations there were two locations that re occurred. One location was off the Cornish coast and the other was in a little bay on the Cornish coast. We identified it as Talland bay. There were dates that implied that there was a delivery at least once a month to Talland. The next scheduled date was some time very early on Sunday morning.

What to do with the information, we thought we had? Were our assumptions right? If we went to the police with our information, we would have to admit to a criminal offence in that we were hacking. Our credibility as a software house would be ruined.

In the end we decided that I would obtain a pair of night vision goggles and head down to Cornwall to stake out the next delivery of whatever it was. I checked out parking in the local area and obtained a pair of night vision goggles off the net. My plan was to drive down to Cornwall and park in the village just along from Talland called Polperro. I could have a nap in the car and then at midnight, I could get to a point where I could watch the beach at Talland, without being seen.

Come Sunday afternoon, I was on my way to Cornwall. I wore dark clothes and had even got myself a black ski hood to cover my auburn hair and white face. When I got down to Polperro, I parked near the school, at the top of the hill and curled up for a nap. At midnight the alarm woke me. I was cold and shivery. There was no one around as I put on the night vision goggles and headed towards the footpath to Talland. At first I found it difficult to walk without stumbling because of the night vision glasses. When I got used to them it was so much easier. I could see everything in a kind of greeny black and white. It was like watching an old film. There was a place out of the wind where I could snuggle down and observe the beach. I could not be seen from the beach, from the little car park or the road leading down to the beach.

It was twelve thirty when I settled down. For the next two hours nothing happened other than the wildlife. Foxes, badgers, rabbits, owls and deer kept me company, as I sat waiting. In the chill of the night, I was thankful for the flask of coffee and the muesli bars. I was starting to lose the will to be there when I noticed a big black BMW gliding down into the car park above the beach. It had its lights off and I could not hear an engine.

Two large guys got out and stood on the beach chatting. At three o clock they got out a torch and shone it out to sea. I could see a pin point of light respond. A few minutes later a rib approached the beach with two men aboard. There was no sound from the engine, so they must have had an electric outboard. The two on the beach caught a rope thrown from the rib and hauled the rib up onto the beach. Within three or four minutes bags had been transferred from the rib to the boot of the car. The rib was launched and the men got back in the car. No lights were showing when they drove very quietly away.

The deed had been done. We now knew for sure that the email correspondence referred to smuggling of some sort. Maybe we now had something on Justin.

Chapter Seventeen

Week fifteen. After I had motored home and caught up with my sleep, Sam and I got in touch with her dad’s retired police friend. We explained what I had seen and how we got the information. We knew that we were breaking the law with the hacking and could not go to the police and tell them what we knew. What we could give him though, was the date of the next delivery and a description of the methodology.

Our friend sat thoughtful for a while and suggested that he go to see some of his old colleagues with a tip off. He would explain that the information had not been obtained legally but it had been checked out and a delivery had been observed. He would let us know what happened as a result of our tip off.

I had my visit to the doc again and more shots. My tests showed that my progress down the path to womanhood was going very much faster than anyone predicted. The doc said that there were early signs of shrinkage in my testicles and that my sperm count was already low. He thought that at the present rate, I would be effectively chemically castrated within another couple of months. Thank god for the sperm bank. I was already at the stage where my capacity to produce testosterone was severely reduced. The doc asked me whether I would like to speed things up with the removal of my testicles. I told him that it was a kind offer but that I was happy with progress so far. He said that my breast development was already very definitely Tanner stage 2 and moving on from there He had never seen such rapid development before.

When Sam and I talked through the results again, we discussed the idea of coming off the hormones for a while at the end of this month. With the shots that I had been given, I would be nineteen weeks down the track before I eased off and tried to recover a bit of Tom. We were committed for now, but there was that possible holding point down the line.

My breasts now were noticeable without any padding and I was wearing normal A cup bras. I was conscious of movement in my breasts and felt more comfortable wearing a bra. The weight of my bust was noticeable now. Small, but noticeable. The aching in my nipples had gone but the sensitivity remained. Sam caught me several times absent mindedly rubbing my nipples as I was working or reading. She had started calling me the nipple fondler. It was difficult, but I broke myself of the habit. I still enjoyed playing with my nipples in the shower and was able to orgasm just playing with them. I loved it when Sam and I fondled and played with each others breasts. I was almost jealous of her lovely shaped C cups.

I was now starting to find a bra comfortable. I had even started selecting my own matching underwear. If I had to wear it, I might as well enjoy it.

It was my twenty seventh birthday the following week so we invited all our close circle and their partners, where they had them. We even invited two of the women from the gay club.

We were flat out with systems design. We had our core team of five and six more people who worked with us on a freelance basis. In just six months we had more than doubled the size of our business. We were in a position to pay off our bank loan at a much faster rate than we had expected. Each of our team was on a basic of £50k and we were paying monthly bonuses. From the business point of view, things could not be going better.

Our ex police friend contacted us at the end of the week and said that he had convinced the Devon and Cornwall police to act on his tip off for the following Sunday.

It was a good week and enquiries kept rolling in. we were flat out.

Week sixteen and we waited for the outcome of the police raid. During the week Sam and I went to the hair dressers and she got her honey blond hair styled and more highlights added. I had the same with my auburn hair. We both shopped for a party dress and ended up with matching spaghetti strapped dresses that showed ample cleavage in her case and what little I had in mine, also plenty of leg. For the first time I was consciously looking for something that would make me look good and sexy as a woman. It was a strange mix of feelings and it was my first little black dress. We also indulged in the purchase of some very sexy lingerie. Now that I had something of a bust, a flattering, whisp of a bra, seemed a good idea. Now that my meat and two veg slotted comfortably away in the gaff, the flimsy knickers made more sense to me.

It was starting to hit home now. I had enjoyed shopping for clothes. I was proud that I was now looking at size twelve now most of the time. My first clothes had been fourteens or sixteens. I did not feel self conscious shopping for girl’s clothes. I did not feel odd wearing them. I was automatically selecting things to wear that came together as an outfit. I felt comfortable in skirts but possibly less so in dresses. I was wearing jewelry. I took a perverse pride in the fact that I could fill an A cup without fillers. I was actually proud of my budding breasts. My muscle definition had reduced massively and my shape had altered. Nobody was clocking me as male. I had crossed a line somewhere without realizing it. I didn’t feel blokey anymore. I didn’t know what I felt.

I was my own worst enemy. All my life I had thrown myself into every project, determined to get the best result possible. I realized that I had done the same with the feminization. I was just unable to do things half heartedly, even when I realized how dangerous and destructive what we were doing could be.

Come the weekend, everything was ready for the party. We had thirty two people attending. One third were men, not including me and the remainder were women. We had one and a half female couples if you included me. The party was great fun with good food, lovely wines and stronger drinks, good music, dancing and much chat and laughter. I found no problem being the hostess. I was finding the female role easier as time went on. The fact that I had no choice, was leading me to accept the inevitable.
Sam spent quite a time talking to Rose. When we were alone in the early hours, after everyone had gone, we cleared up the worst of the mess. We then cuddled in bed and talked through the fun we had had. With the excitement of the night, I was still wide awake.

“You spent a long time talking to Rose.”

“Yes, there were a lot of questions that I wanted to ask her.”

“Such as?”

“I wanted to know more about her transition. I wanted to know if she had been either gay or bi sexual before she was married. She told me that she had never been gay or bi sexual. She had originally been attracted to women and loved their company. As a young man, she had been very uncomfortable in being macho. She had tried cross dressing as a child, and had found being dressed as a girl very calming. It had felt right. After she was married she knew that she loved her wife and enjoyed sex with her. She also knew at some fundamental level that she had to be a woman. I asked how long after she started transitioning did she continue to have sex with her wife. She told me that her wife became gradually less keen and she gradually became less able. By the time she was dressing and living full time as a woman her wife had already talked about divorce. They stopped having penetrative sex five months after she had started on hormones. Her wife had been more and more reluctant as time had passed and she had found it hard to get an erection.

I asked her when she had first been attracted to men. She said that after her wife left she had felt confused and lost. After she had been on hormones for seven months and living as a woman for about five months, she realized that she had been idly assessing men. She was more inclined to look at men than women. After another month she had her first date with a man. She could pass quite successfully and was quite presentable. They had ended up going dancing and at the end of the date he had kissed her. She had been shocked at first but found it to be an exciting awakening experience. From that time on she thought more about men and less about women. It was if someone had switched a light on in her brain. She had decided quite soon afterwards that she wanted full gender reassignment so that she could have proper sex. Just over a year later she had her first vaginal intercourse with a man. It was wonderful and an experience to be repeated regularly.

What is going to happen to you Tom? Are you going to be awoken?”

That night we quietly cuddled and held each other tight, scared that we might lose each other. In the morning we felt much better and made love with a passion.