Chapter Twenty One

Week twenty two and we kept looking for suitable candidates for me to meet. I had a couple more initial dates but it was so hard to find anyone who was acceptable and wanted a real relationship. In the meantime we worked on coming up with an estimate for the work that was needed on the system that Justin had sold the NHS. Sam and Danny worked together to come up with a price. The calculations showed that it was going to cost the trust almost as much as it would have cost them to install our system in the first place. We gave them our estimate. We discovered that the person who was in charge of the procurement was different to the man who had previously been in charge. When we enquired about him, we were told that he had moved on to another role. This was worth following up.

Week twenty three and the trust accepted our quote. We were amazed that they had acted so quickly, but they assured us that they had no choice. We decided that Sam, Megan and Danny would work on the Trust project and Jackie, Tim and I would look after all the other business. We would split freelancers between us.

We were now into the start of May and we hit a patch of warm and sunny weather. We took to working outside whenever possible and Sam suggested that we use the opportunity to get some tanning. The girls worked in bikinis when outside and with a wrap on when they came indoors. Sam looked stunning in her bikini. It was barely decent and you could just see the edge of her butterfly. I wore a skimpy top, I did not have much to cover but I felt better with a bikini top on than going topless. It was really strange being on show in a bikini. I needed a sufficiently full bottom to hide my gaff. It brought home to me how feminine my shape was becoming. The boys all wore shorts. I became aware that they guys tended to have a larger than usual bulge in their shorts when they were working round the bikini clad girls. When I commented on that fact to Sam her only response was.

“Yes, I know, fun isn’t it. You get to assess what each guy is packing and how easily aroused they are. You never know when that information will be useful.”

And with that she gave me an exaggerated lewd wink.

We went to the gay club for a night out on Saturday but I had the feeling that Sam’s heart was not in it.

Week twenty four and we were well into the work on patching up the Trusts system. I don’t know whether I was pleased or not that the heat wave ended and we went back to normal clothing. The reduction in sexual tension was palpable and the work rate went up noticeably.

I had been seeing my mum and dad fairly regularly and mum had just taken it her stride to treat me as a daughter. It was clear though that she was concerned that everything was alright between Sam and me. She asked straight out whether our sex life was still good. When I asked her why the question she said that she had the impression that Sam was fidgety. I had also picked up on the same feeling. I needed to talk with her about it.

Interesting information came from the NHS Trust. The person who had been responsible for the procurement, one Jonathon King-Smyth, had been moved sideways out of purchasing and into some job in grounds and services, whatever that was. It appeared that his purchase of Justin’s system had been seen as a bad error and thus the sideways move. It was commonly agreed that he was a thoroughly nice chap and it must have been a temporary lapse of judgement. We were not so sure and decided to investigate. Sam, Megan and Danny took every opportunity to find out about Mr King-Smyth.

Megan was sure that while she was working on the system in the Trust buildings, she could hack into the payroll and HR records without fear of discovery.

During the week I had another session with the doctor. He was still amazed at the speed with which I was responding to the hormones. He reduced my estrogen input slightly and my testosterone blockers were reduced by a significant amount. He said that at the rate my testicles were atrophying, they would probably have ceased producing any testosterone by my next visit. I was very close to complete chemical castration. He said that I might as well get them removed because they no longer had any useful function and were now merely a cancer risk.

I asked what would happen now if I decided to change my mind and revert to being a male. After giving me a strange look he answered that from now on I would need to take a testosterone supplement for the rest of my life. I would need a double mastectomy. My muscle mass could return with a sufficiently large dosage of testosterone. My penis size would never return to its previous full size but some recovery in firmness would be experienced. My beard would never grow back in any real sense. My moods would probably change and my skin and hair would become more coarse. My face would remain quite feminine unless I had more surgery done. In other words, I would never return to being the Tom that I was, but I could achieve a somewhat lesser version.

I kept Sam up to date with the latest from the Doc and I could tell that the information upset her. She was putting on a brave face.

We decided to review where we were. I was living virtually all the time as a woman. At work and whenever we went out I presented myself as a woman. It was second nature for me to use my female voice now, even when I was cross. I wore my gaff all day and everyday except for sometimes at the weekend when we were slobbing about. I wore women’s clothes all the time except when I was dressed in sweats. I put on make up without thinking. I decided that the coming weekend I would be Tom to see if I still could.

By the end of the week we had found out that our Mr King-Smyth was married with a family that was grown up. He had two passions, golf and The Masons. My dad was a mason so I would recruit him to find out what he could. Tim played golf and we agreed to pay his green fees so that he could play at our target’s golf club.

At the weekend I ditched bra, panties and gaff. I wore my old boxer style pants and I tried on an old pair of my jeans. They were far too uncomfortable. My shape had changed too much. I found a baggy old pair of shorts that were comfortable and donned an old sweat shirt. I stomped about in a male manner and talked in my old Tom voice. I was careful to use male mannerisms, especially rummaging my meat and two veg. I thought I was doing ok until we decided to watch a film that evening. By the time we got through the film we had both had a good cry at the sad parts. What a girly reaction.

I had felt odd with no bra. My nipples were rubbing against the roughness of my sweatshirt and I was conscious of the jiggle and weight of my boobs when I moved. Sam had tried to keep a straight face all day but when she saw me absent mindedly caressing a nipple during one of the sex scenes in the film, she burst out laughing.

“Tom, Jen you have been acting like a bull dyke all day. It is as if you are a woman trying to convince all and sundry that you are really a butch bloke. I love you for trying, but for as long as you are on a diet of estrogen and deprived of your man juices, then I think you have to go with what comes naturally. I can live with it. I have to.”

When we talked about my efforts I had to admit that I found the female clothes comfortable and that dressing up was fun. I liked trying to co ordinate colours and textures. I felt more confident, if I put a little make up on before I went out. I enjoyed wearing jewelry. I loved the feel of dangly ear rings touching my neck. I liked brushing my auburn hair. For now at least I was a million miles away from the rugger bugger, testosterone fueled guy that I had been before.

On Sunday the sun shone. We are lucky to have a large garden that is not overlooked so we spent a large part of the day lying naked in the sun, reading, dozing and making love. We both loved being naked in the sun.

Chapter Twenty Two

Week twenty four and we were progressing well with the NHS trust work. Megan had found a massive amount about King-Smyth. We knew what his bank accounts were for payroll and expenses purposes. We knew his address, his job history, his medical history, his family and so much more. It was interesting that his salary was paid into a joint family account but his expenses were paid into his named account in a totally different bank.

Dad had agreed to find out any dirt through the Masonic lodges. I spent a couple of evenings following Mr Smyth home and watching the comings and goings at his house. It all looked pretty normal, but he did have a rather nice Porche in the garage. He never seemed to use it for work, only in the evening.

Sam and I despaired of finding a suitable target for me through the dating sites. Donna came up with a brilliant suggestion. She had heard that a friend of hers loved walking and after breaking up with her husband, she had joined a walking group. The group was mostly singles and the people were genuine and nice. It sounded a great idea. I was going to join at least two walking groups. Weekends were going to be spent rambling in the country, it would reduce my Sam time, but at least I enjoyed walking. After a few days research, we found the best options. One group met weekly on a Saturday and another two met every other week on a Sunday. I was going to end up getting very fit.

We asked Megan whether she thought she could hack into the bank system to get a print out of Mr Smyth’s bank statements. She said that it was too risky for her and almost certainly out her range. She said that she did know someone who might do it for a fee. She would ask him.

When we were sitting around after dinner Sam had been engrossed on the computer.

“That’s it, all settled, we go next week for one week.”

“Where?”

“South of France.”

“How?”

“We are close to finishing the trust project. What we don’t finish by the end of next week, we can leave to Megan and Danny. You are going to wear your most butch outfit, put your hair in a boys pony tail and pretend to be male for the journey there and back.”

“Very funny.”

“We fly into Bezier and have a car booked. We are stopping in a naturist camp site in a caravan.”

“What? Don’t be silly. How can I be naked with tits and a willy?”

“No problem. I have researched a way that you can look like a woman naked. What you do is to use surgical glue to tuck your willy back between the cheeks of your bum, then pull the folds of your scrotum over it to look like the folds of the labia and glue it all down. I have seen pictures of it and it looks very real. I even found a lady who does the glueing and you have an appointment to see her on Friday. The glue is good for at least a week but will start to come apart after that. No gaff for a week and I will have you all to myself.”

“When did you start to arrange all this?”

“Three weeks ago, I realized that once you start courting and going walking and all, I shall probably only see you at work, at breakfast and in bed. I want you all to myself even if it is only a week. Oh and here is your international naturist card in the name of Jenifer, photo and all. On the plane and hiring a car, you will be my husband, at the camp you will be the cousin that I live and work with. I thought sisters might cause a few raised eyebrows when we snog.”

It sounded great. I couldn’t wait.

“I suppose you realise, that if your willy is going to be out of sight and action for the week, you only have two more days to give me a good rodgering, so no more idling, you have a job to do.”

We spent as much of the next two days making love as we could. On Friday evening we went to see a nurse who in her spare time worked with transgender and transvestite people. First I had to have the hair on my scrotum removed. She then showed us how push my balls up into my body cavity, fold the penis into the empty scrotum and use the surgical glue to create a very realistic labia. I could still pee out of the rear end of the false labia. Once that had been completed I needed a bit of sculpting of my pubic hair and, voila, I looked all girl.

Later that evening, I stood, naked, in front of a long mirror and inspected myself. I looked all woman. I looked tall and a little bit chunky, with the slim hips of an athlete, a flat stomach and the slightly broad shoulders of a swimmer. I had a small but well formed bust with nipples that reacted to just about everything. Anyone looking at me would have seen an attractive athletic woman. I kind of liked what I saw.

In the morning we were up at the crack of dawn. Our packing was simple. All we needed was a couple of pairs of knickers and bras, a sun dress, a pair of shorts a couple of tops and a wrap for covering up when we had too much sun. We had already started to get a tan in the garden.

It was a beautiful warm mid May morning when we arrived in Beziers and picked up the car. About forty minutes later and we were being shown round our caravan. Clothes came off as quickly as possible and we headed to the pool. It is a lovely feeling swimming naked in the sunshine. It felt strange with boobs. They almost felt like water wings. I was very conscious of them as I swam. They may have been small, but they were there. My arms brushed against them when I swam the crawl.

The camp covered many acres of woodland, meadow and heath. The concentration of chalets and caravans was very low and it being May, there were very few tourers. Most of the clientele were a lot older than us, probably pensioners. There were a few young couples with preschool children and some about our age. Everybody was happy, welcoming and very easy to talk to.

We crashed out with our books by the pool for a while. As men walked by I could hear Sam muttering to herself. When I asked her what she was saying, she said that she was marking the men on the size and the beauty of their todgers and their overall shagability. From that point on we would score the first two factors and the last was decided by the question, would you, and a thumbs up or down given. I became aware fairly soon that when Sam walked about, stretched or did her exercises some of the men had to turn on their stomachs to avoid embarrassment. I wondered if I could have the same effect and to my delight I did cause some embarrassed hiding of stiffies.

Sam admitted to me that she had been playing games earlier and promised to behave in future, yeah likely. We walked round the grounds hand in hand. It was so beautiful with the wildflowers and the teeming bird life. After the stress of the previous six months it was as if we had stopped the world and stepped off it into paradise.

We ate in the little restaurant in the evening. We just wore our wraps tied over our boobs. Some people dressed for dinner others stayed naked. It was warm and friendly and the food was simple but good. The local wine was of a very drinkable quality so we indulged. When we went back to the cabin Sam started my education. She took me right back to basics of how to touch her to give her the greatest pleasure. She taught me where her greatest pleasure spots were. She slowly instructed me how I could bring her to climax after climax without ever penetrating her with my dick. It was a dream. She showed me how I could use my lips and tongue as well as my fingers. I learned for the first time how to manipulate her clitoris with my tongue, how to use it to find her g spot, how to gently stimulate her bum with my tongue. I learned so much about giving pleasure. I could keep her riding high on a wave of intense pleasure. Why had she never taught me this before?

I also learned how intense my pleasure could be. She showed me what pleasure I could have just from her hands and lips on my boobs. My biggest surprise was how sensitive I was between my legs. By stroking the lips of my false labia and applying a little pressure I would be driven to an intense orgasm. The area between my cock and my sphincter was an erogenous zone that I had not discovered before. Sam could bring me to ecstasy by playing with my sphincter. I had never felt so aroused in so many ways before. I suppose that my sexual pleasure had been so centred on my dick that I had not allowed myself to be aware of all the other pleasures. Kissing was now an art form. We could both get to the cusp of an orgasm by kissing alone. Our days were spent soaking the sun, walking, swimming and making slow languorous love. In all the time I had been with Sam, I had never experienced such intense sexual pleasure. It was never a rush to orgasm. It was an intense peak of pleasure that went on and on and on.

We talked and talked about the pleasure we could give each other. I asked Sam why she had never taught me how to give her pleasure like that before. She told me that I had not been ready to learn and if I had stayed as Tom I probably never would have. She really missed the raunchy full on sex that she used to have with Tom, but this was a lovely alternative. I could not argue with her.

We made love like two women and the sharing and the understanding were complete.

During the week we had kept in touch with Jackie and Megan. All was going smoothly with our projects. They had almost completed the Trust project and everything else was fine. Megan said that she had contacted her super hacker contact. He was happy to do what we wanted for a £5000 fee. He could not start for four weeks though because he was doing a freelance job for the government.

At the end of our idyllic week Sam sat me down to talk.

“I want to talk to both Tom and Jen. I think Tom is slowly disappearing and Jen is becoming more real. I wanted to show both of you how much I love you. I wanted to reassure you that I still love you and want you. I still have the Tom that I love, all of that is still here. I now have Jen as well and this is a big bonus. I love having you as my girlfriend, Jen is more than just bits of Tom. She is a real person and I love her to bits. I would hate to lose her out of my life. I want to spend the rest of my life with her and Tom. I want us to have children together and I am getting really broody. I want to have a family with Tom and Jen. We can be two mums together if necessary. I don’t care that we are in danger of Justin wrecking our lives. I want our child. If everything goes wrong and Justin takes you away from me, I will still have our child.

If you agree I would like to come off contraception and start trying to get pregnant as soon as possible. If we are lucky it might happen in my first or second cycle. I contacted the sperm bank and fertility clinic and I could have my first try in just over two weeks time. I am sorry to dump this all on you, but it is something that I really want.

Before you make your mind up, though, there is one other rather delicate thing that I need to talk to you about. The Tom that I love is still there, the Jen that I love is now there as is the Jen I lust after. The Tom that I lust after is disappearing. I have a feeling that he may never come back. Your love making is becoming more and more naturally feminine. It is much more Jen than Tom. I think that it will be almost entirely Jen soon. I know that I am heterosexual and Tom awoke in me a love and a need for full on raunchy sex. I love being taken by a testosterone fuelled man. I am afraid that every now and then I will want a good seeing to. I do not want to be unfaithful to either Tom or Jen but at some time, as an alternative to Jen, I am going to need a man. I suspect that I will want a no complications shag, not love making. I think that sex with a man, who I have no demands on and has no demands on me, would be the answer. I don’t know whether I would be able to do without the occasional heavy duty shag. If Tom were able to return it will not be necessary. This is something that is very difficult to say, but I know that I will start to itch in a way that Jen can not scratch.

The bottom line is that I want us to have our family and I want us to be together forever but I do suspect that my heterosexual lust is an itch that at some stage I will find difficult to avoid scratching.”

The suggestion of starting a family came as a great surprise. The question of the itch had been a concern that had been growing in my mind for weeks. I knew that my erections were getting less frequent, slower and not so big. I knew that our love making was as much lesbian as heterosexual now. I knew that the last week had been gloriously lesbian, but I was scared. I had seen how much Sam enjoyed male attention at the girl’s night out. I did not want to lose her. It occurred to me that I had not been jealous that night. That had just been playing though. What would I feel about her having sex with another man? Would I be able to cope. At that moment I did not think so.

Our journey back was quiet. Both of us were deep in thought. Sam had been making a statement, not asking permission. She had realized that she had a need that would still remain, even if I was unable to fulfill it. She had been totally relaxed and comfortable making love to me woman to woman for the last week. It was also clear that there was some confusion and discomfort when we were making love both heterosexually and as two women at the same time.

When we got home we made beautiful lesbian love again and continued on and off through the Sunday. On Sunday evening we talked.

“Sam, I love the idea of us starting a family. If all goes well, then we will both be there to bring up the children. If I end up dead in a Thai brothel, then I will know that you will be safe with our child. I will be the best mum or dad, if I get the chance, and I know you will make a lovely mum.

The big elephant in the room is your sexual need. Ever since this whole thing started I have been terrified of losing you. I know you love men. I know you love sex and need it. I know that I am becoming less and less a man. I often forget that I am a man and the majority of the time I think of myself as female now. I know that heterosexual sex with me now is not as satisfying as it was and it scares me. I do not know if I could handle you having sex with another man. I don’t know what knowledge of you being with another man would do to me. Thank you for being open with me. We need to keep talking about all the real deep problems if we are going to get through this. I had no problem with you snogging and groping another man on girl’s night out but that was just a wicked game we were all playing. I want us to have a family and yes please can we go ahead with the fertilization.”

Chapter Twenty Three

Week twenty six and we were back at the studio. The team were both delighted to see us and jealous of our tans. When we had been away new enquiries about work had come in and quotes been sent out. The work at the trust had been completed and signed off and was working sweetly. Because of the preparation work that we had done during the original bidding process, it had been smooth and easy. We had the excuse to go back and do our detective work around the trust. Sam was going to be our sleuth.

It was now warm enough to spend evenings outdoors so Sam and I did our yoga and aerobics outdoors in the nude. It was fun and it was sexy. My glueing was still holding so we looked like a very sexy pair of girls. After a couple of days, it occurred to me that I had not been too bothered about being glued away. Watching Sam doing yoga in the nude awoke stirrings below and I found the solvent to free myself. Once free I returned to the garden, erection to the fore and took Sam pleasantly by surprise. It had been nearly two weeks since I was last inside her. We had never had a gap that long before. It felt good and I felt like Tom despite being aware of my breasts and nipples. Tom performed manfully for much of the evening and into the night.

The problem was that the following morning it was back on with the gaff. I was conscious of its discomfort all day, having not been troubled by it for weeks.

Sam found out that our Mr Smyth was well connected with several of the trust board and seen as a very clubbable chap. He was thought to have extravagant tastes and to be an excellent host. It was assumed that he must have a wealthy wife or a private income to supplement his NHS salary. It turned out that he was part of the same social circle that Justin moved in. We were by now fairly certain that there had to have been collusion between Justin and Mr King-Smyth. All we needed now was proof.

Sam’s dad had found that Mr Smyth was a pillar of the Masonic Province. Not only was he a revered past master of his lodge, but he was active at Provincial level. He rubbed shoulders with senior police officers, councilors and at least two of the trust board. He was going to be difficult to get at. No untoward gossip about him was forthcoming apart from his reputation for generous entertaining, though it was commented on that he had been less lavish in recent months. We wondered whether he had been making money from his procurement role with more than Justin.

Come the end of the week Danny dropped a bombshell. He told us that he loved working for us but was finding a regular job with regular hours a bit restrictive. He would love to carry on as a freelance but could not cope with regular hours. If a lady wanted a liason with him, he felt that it was inconsiderate to put them off. He had been invited by one of his lady friends for a week away in the sun. Since the death of her husband she had not had the proper company of a man and he felt it would have been unkind to turn her down. He apologized for dropping us in the lurch. He gave Tim a big hug and then gave Sam, Jackie, Megan and me each a big hug and a warm kiss on the lips. Each was full and longer than just a goodbye. I was last in line and watching the others, I was kind of looking forward to my turn. He left us each with a silly grin on our faces. It was impossible to be mad with him.

On Saturday I had my first outing with the walking group. We were walking along the grand union canal from Rickmansworth. The irony was that when I was a boy, Justin and I used to cycle to the canal and spend the day on the towpath helping at the locks. Now, to all appearances, here I was as a woman on the hunt for a suitable man. I was dressed in shorts and good walking shoes. It was a warm sunny day and I wore a t shirt with a jumper and waterproofs in my backpack. I had been wearing either a cinch or a corset for most of the time, so despite the heat, I thought I had better show as much waist as possible and wore a cinch. We met up at the rendezvous and I introduced myself to the leader. The group were all between twenty and about fiftyish. There was a pretty even mix of men and women and of the twenty six people, only three married couples. It quickly turned out that all three of the married couples had met as part of the walking group.

The day was very pleasant. We walked and talked, changing walking partners from time to time. We stopped at a pub for lunch and were back at our start point at about five o clock. We had walked about eight miles over the day and I was tired, but relaxed. The crowd had been very pleasant. Almost everyone was a single. I heard tales of marriages that had collapsed and partners who had died. I heard stories of people who were still waiting to meet Mr or Miss right. The saddest tale was of a man whose wife had a crippling condition that left her completely helpless. Once a month he had a nurse in and joined the walking group for a day of respite. He was not at all bitter. He must be a saint.

The group would meet again in two weeks. There were lots of nice people but no likely prospects as far as I could see. When I got home, I was tired and sleepy. I dozed on the sofa, cuddling with Sam. Sam’s day had been spent, sun bathing, shopping and trying to find out anything new on our Mr Smyth.

Sunday, I was up early, the weather was not as good so I wore a pair of light weight walking trousers, a T shirt and a fine jumper and despite the discomfort, the cinch. Waterproofs were in my backpack. We were walking in the surrey hills. I parked and met up with the group at ten in the morning. It was dry but cloudy. This was a weekly walking group and much larger than the one yesterday. There must have been well over forty walkers. I reported in and introduced myself to a very scoutmasterish leader. I was a bit taken aback by his manner when he took my details and my weekly subs.

A smiling lady of about sixty, saw my look of alarm and came up to me.

“Don’t worry about Dominic, he is the same with everyone. He is both a bachelor, welsh and a geography teacher. Poor soul, he has the worst possible interpersonal skills but he does all the organizing for this group and is a dear, really. I think he was hoping to find true love but he is scared of both men and women. I am Liz, let me introduce you around. Are you here for exercise, the wildlife or to find a new companion?”

Well that was straight to the point.

“I suppose I am here for all three. I love walking and the countryside and I no longer have a partner. (Sam forgive me) I have been on my own for months now and I am fed up with the dickheads you meet on line. What about you?”

“I lost my husband to cancer five years ago. I started with this group four years ago. I had a relationship with one of the group for a couple of years, but that was more a case of friends with benefits. I now am courting my lovely John. We spend some time at his place and some at mine. We can’t decide which to sell. That is John over there talking to the lady in the pink top”

“I know I should not need to ask but what is a friend with benefits?”

“Bless you, you poor innocent, it is a friend with whom you can have pleasant, uncomplicated sex, without the need for emotional attachment. Someone you can have a good chat with, enjoy their company, enjoy the sex with but have no residual attachment to. I can recommend the arrangement until you find someone to love. It keeps the juices flowing. I would recommend Dougie, but I think he might be a bit old for you.”

Liz seemed to have a permanent twinkle in her eye. She was obviously getting the most enjoyment she could out of life. Her partner John was equally twinkly and fun. I was soon introduced to several of the group and lost track of names.

I walked with several different people through the day. One woman, who was about my age, walked with me for a fair time. I learnt about her struggle as an artist, her problematic love life and her problems with confidence around men. She was a lovely girl, attractive and with a warm personality. She had suffered at the hands of an unsympathetic bastard of a father and it had left her unsure and scared when dealing with men. I liked her and could easily have fallen for her if I was still Tom and I did not have Sam.

The men were a mixed bunch. I was cornered by one guy in his forties whose wife had divorced him in order to marry a long time friend. Having spent half an hour listening to him, I could not blame her. A second guy was in his sixties. He had lost his wife to cancer two years before after a long illness. He was charming, good looking, witty and extremely pleasant company to walk with. He saw me as a daughter rather than as a woman, so no joy there.

Another one was about my age, but somehow very immature. He was fine and he was fun, but it was like talking to an adolescent. My favourite was Mike. He was pleasant to walk with. He didn’t talk much but was just happy to walk side by side. Questions and comments came at intervals. Often he spoke just to point out a bird or a wildflower. He was easy company. I found out very little about him but at the end of the walk, he asked me whether I was coming again next week.

By the time I got home, I was absolutely shattered. I had walked sixteen miles in two days. I was not used to it. Sam asked me about the walkers and I recounted the day. She was amused about Liz’s comments about friends with benefits. We ate the meal Sam had prepared and I was asleep the moment my head hit the pillow.

Week twenty seven and when I woke up, I was alone in bed. Sam had allowed me to sleep in. I was stiff and my feet ached. A fit ex rugby player like me should have been able to walk sixteen miles in two days. I needed to build my stamina again. I was raw between my legs where the gaff had rubbed. It was good for many things but not long distance walking.

When I joined the others in the studio we had a group meeting. We needed to replace Danny and take on at least one more to meet our workload. We let our freelancers know that there was a full time slot available and also put the word around the wider community. We immediately had a response from Karen. She was someone that we rated but had lost touch with when she decided to go walk about through Australia and New Zealand. She had been back for a while and was looking to get herself onto the property ladder. Karen’s output was good, she fitted well with the team and she was obsessed about producing good quality work. We welcomed her on board straight away.

A few others expressed a vague interest but none were pressing. The odd one out though was an expression of interest from a sixty two year old man. He had been the head of IT at a large company and when the company had merged with an even bigger company, he had become redundant. A substantial settlement and an early pension had been given to him and, although he had enjoyed his retirement for five months, he was now bored witless. He did not want to take on a big managerial job again, but he did want to write systems and produce code. We met him later in the week and he was a lovely smiley granddad of a guy. We both took to him. He seemed to exude wisdom and common sense. Martin was welcomed onto the team to start the following week. A couple of our freelancers heard we had taken Martin on and they were delighted as they rated him as an ok guy.

We were busy and we were making money.

Friday night came and our little team celebrated developing business with a meal out. There were fifteen of us including the freelancers. Wine was taken, jokes were told, much flirting took place and a good time was had by all. There was a competition telling Danny stories. The tales of his exploits with the fairer sex abounded. There were even a couple of blushing tales from recipients of his favours. He was toasted as an absent friend.

Friday night I asked Sam to glue me up so that I did not need the gaff. It took a couple of goes and a lot of mess of glue and solvent but we got it right in the end after much giggling and laughter. We made love as women that night.
Saturday morning and I was out with my fortnightly group. There were about twenty in the group. The walk was a bit uninspiring and the company bland. We only did six miles and I felt very flat after it. I was home early and Sam instructed me to have a bath and get my glad rags on. She had got us tickets to see the Royal Ballet dance Myerling. We had not been to the ballet in ages. Both of us were dressed to kill as we arrived at covent garden. Our seats were the best, in the stalls, and we saw the most beautiful and sad ballet. We were both weeping by the end. The emotional charge was almost overpowering. I had always loved the ballet, but I had never felt it so deeply before. We were so excited by the experience that we talked for ages about the beauty that we had experienced.

Up early again the following morning. I took Sam breakfast in bed and then set out to meet my group. We were out Chalfont way and I had taken the train. I met the others at the rendezvous and was again accosted by Dominic. I recognized most of the faces but there were several new ones. The total number was about the same.

I spent time with Liz and John. Dougie walked with me for a while and you could tell what was going through the old rogues mind. Men can be so transparent. My girl friend from the previous week walked with me and again talked about her father. I was interested and concerned for her, but starting to get a little wary.

There were three more men that I spent time with, but none of them resonated with me. It was a relief when, in the afternoon, Mike fell into step with me. After all the previous chatter it was nice to walk in companionable silence. We carried on our sporadic conversation for the rest of the afternoon. I was too emotionally drained to do any more prospecting among the males.

When I got home Sam again wanted a breakdown of the runners and riders. I do not know why but I hardly mentioned Mike. Sam was excited by the prospect of her first visit to the clinic the following week. We cuddled and after my exercise I was soon fast asleep.

Chapter Twenty Four

Week twenty eight and we had the first visit to the clinic to look forward to and I had a visit to the doc. We had to use the solvent to release my todger for the visit. The doc gave me a very thorough inspection.

“Good news and bad news Jen, which do you want first?”

“Try the good news first.”

“Well you progression through female puberty is quite remarkable for someone your age. I have never come across someone, who is not inter sexed, who has developed so rapidly. You are where I would expect someone to be after fifteen to eighteen months. Your breast development is well through to Tanner stage three and getting into Tanner stage four. Your fat redistribution has progressed rapidly and, most oddly, you seem to have had some development of the pelvis. I may be mistaken, but unless I got my initial measurements wrong, there has been some female development in a slight widening. I know it does not make sense, but that is what appears to have happened.”

This was hardly good news. I was turning into a woman at a much faster rate than we had anticipated. I might never get back to us being Tom and Sam if we did not find a way out soon.

“What is the bad news?”

“When we last met, I told you that the rate of atrophy of your testicles was very fast. Well they are effectively dead now. There is a swelling in one and I would like to give you a local anesthetic and draw some blood from the testicle. I am concerned that the dead tissue may have gone sceptic.”

The doc sprayed my scrotum with something that numbed the surface. He then inserted a needle and drew some liquid from the swollen testicle. I could see that the colour was strange as he drew the plunger back.

“I was right. The tissue has become infected. I fear that if your testicles are not removed, they will become very dangerous to your health. Within a very short period gangrene is likely to set in. I strongly advise their urgent removal. They are dead tissue and no use to you. I can do it now if you agree.”

“Let me just talk to Sam first.”

He left us to talk and as soon as he left the room Sam said it was a no brainer. It might be difficult to take such a step emotionally but it was a must. The implications of their removal hit deeply. I would be a physical eunuch. I may already be one chemically but there was a finality about their removal.

We called him back in and told him to go ahead. Ten minutes later I had been physically neutered. It hurt my mind. I was in a black fug, feeling sorry for myself. Sam tried to comfort me that evening but I was deep in a black place. The following morning I was still depressed and did not get out of bed.

Sam was worried and called Rose asking her to come round and talk to me. Rose arrived mid morning and I spilled out my woes to her at length. She was someone who would understand. I whinged on and on about my loss and being a gelding and how life was awful. I sobbed and I sighed. Rose listened to it all.

“You selfish, self centered, stupid man. Do you realise what you are doing. You are in danger of losing the one thing you value above all else, Sam. You see everything in terms of what is happening to you. What about what is happening to Sam? She is slowly seeing the love of her life morphing and changing in front of her. She is losing much of the man she loves. You have some control over what is happening to you. She has none. At weekends she has to sit back while you go out looking for a potential mate. If you succeed she is in danger of losing you completely. If you fail she is probably in even greater danger. You can control what you do and the pace you take things at. Sam just has to sit back and watch. I am not surprised that she wanted to get pregnant, it is about the only part of her future that she has real control over. Stop thinking about yourself and think of Sam. Cherish her, reassure her, support her, communicate with her or you are going to drive her away”

There was more and by the end of Rose’s lecture I felt thoroughly ashamed of myself. After we had a cup of coffee and I had wiped my eyes and made myself presentable. Rose said her farewells and left. I went straight to Sam gave her a huge hug and kiss and told her that I loved her totally and utterly. I apologized for being such a self centred git and for thinking only of myself. I promised that I would think of her in the future. Her only response was, “good, about time.”

The new members fitted in straight away. Martin had many contacts and tentatively suggested that, if we were interested, then he could get leads for new contracts. Our response was, “go for it”.

At the end of the week we visited the clinic for our first attempt at getting Sam pregnant. She was both nervous and excited. I caused some confusion as both the husband and also female companion. Even though I dressed in jeans and tops almost all the time, I was unmistakably female. The whole process was a little bizarre and in the end Sam was left feeling very strange.

“If I am now pregnant, it would feel like the immaculate conception. How can I get pregnant without a good bout of rumpy pumpy. It just feels wrong.”

On Saturday we had a free day and spent it together, in the garden, in the sun. We cuddled and made love and in the evening we both got glammed up and went out for a meal. I had an opportunity to fuss over her and I took it in full. I stayed unglued that night so that we could make the most of each other. I was aware that Sam had got over her original problems, making love, with me looking and feeling like a woman. She now looked at me again as we made love. She also seemed comfortable with me inside her and our breasts rubbing together. We had found a softer, more sensuous way of making love. I had lost the animal thrusting and had become more involved with the nuances of touch and feeling. I was conscious that I was no longer strong enough to hold Sam like a toy and use her and dominate her physically. We missed the way that I had sometimes just taken her and she had submitted to my maleness and passion. It was much more a sharing now. I was happy with what we had, as was Sam, but I knew we both missed what had gone. Even at the height of passion my cock was now, noticeably diminished from when we had married. I had even started taking a Viagra substitute to help my erections.

Because the stitches from the orchiectomy had not healed I had to walk with the gaff again. Most of the crowd was there when I arrived at the rendezvous. I looked out for Mike but could not see him. My needy female friend buttonholed me early on and I spent a long half hour listening to all her worries and problems.

I walked with some of the single men. There was one who was eager to get to know me better, but he was short fat and had a number of little ticks and habits that you could not ignore. He was a nice guy and fun to talk to but, shallow as I am, I could not see me wooing him. Another guy was pleasant to look at but boring as hell, I found difficulty keeping track of what he was saying. My mind kept wandering. One very nice guy, probably in his early forties could have ticked the boxes but it was too soon since his wife had died. He was nowhere near ready to move on and, maybe never would be. This was the third week and I had not seen anyone to target.

We lunched late at a pub and we were ready to move on at half past two. After we had walked on for another mile or so I noticed Mike had joined us. When we drifted together I was happy to end my prospecting and just walk with Mike. We fell into our pattern of silences and occasional comments and questions. It transpired that he had spent the morning with his nine year old son. That was news. I did not know he was married, divorced, widowed or what. He chatted a little about how pleased he was that his son enjoyed rugby.

For the rest of the afternoon we talked rugby. I nearly spoiled everything by talking about playing. I quickly realized what I was saying and clarified that it was women’s rugby. It turned out that Mike played in the back row for a club that I had played against more than once. I must have tackled him and probably been flattened by him. As a player I had not been conscious of the size difference between me as a scrum half and him as a forward. My natural aggression made me want to take people on. Now Mike felt bigger and stronger than me. My natural feeling, now, was to look to him for protection not to try and hammer him into the ground.

That thought made me look at him again. He was probably six foot two and something about fourteen and a half stone. He was solid and athletic and I suppose he could be called good looking if you liked that sort of thing. We chatted on and the time passed very quickly.

When we parted I wondered how much I knew about him. He had a son he loved, he knew a lot about wildlife, played rugby, was interested in world affairs, was well read, knew about art and built furniture. Not much to know but a start.

I reported back to Sam and made a huge fuss of her over the evening.