CHAPTER 6
The First Day of the Rest of my Life

The next morning I woke up around 9:30 AM. I stirred around in bed trying to catch my bearings. I stretched around, then walked over to the window and opened the curtains to see John’s house during the day.

The place was palatial. The bungalow was located across a huge yard. To enter the bungalow, you first had to go through a metal gate inside the compound. That gate was on the far end of the swimming pool, giving the bungalow complete independence from the main house.

The bungalow had a small living room with a 32 inch TV, stereo and DVD, a kitchen, a patio and a phone. It had a small, one-car garage and there was a door that led to the street. It was, in fact, like a small apartment inside the property.

As I checked out my surroundings, the phone next to the bed rang. I jumped on the bed and picked it up.

“Hello?”

“Good morning. Good to see you’re up. Are you hungry?”

“Yeah. As a matter of fact, I am. But I was just wondering where to go to get some.”

John laughed at the other end of the line. “Don’t worry. I’ll come right over and bring you a tray”.

The line clicked, and the phone went dead. I hung up and I turned on the TV to see what was on. Most of the channels had been blocked, except the gay porno channels, Cosmo, Hallmark and a few others like Discovery Health.

A few minutes later, John walked in with a tray, and two DVD’s. He was wearing sweats and had a big smile on his face. He was as cheery as I had ever seen him. He greeted me warmly and set the breakfast tray on the kitchen table. Then he took one DVD and moved over to the living room. As he turned on the television he asked me to join him.

“Sorry. But before we eat there’s something I want you to see. And I also need to talk to you about a couple of things.”

I sat down in front of the television set, but before he turned it on, he looked a me. His smile faded, and although his eyes were still warm, he went very serious. He looked straight at me as he spoke.

“You know why I divorced my second wife?”, I simply shook my head softly. “The fucking bitch cheated on me. And you know with whom?” I shook my head again. “She was screwing the pool guy. The fucking pool guy. Some spic who hardly spoke any English. Can you believe that?”

“I’m sorry, John. But I see you’ve...” he put his hand up interrupting me.

“Do you have any idea at how pissed off I was? Some greasy wetback was trying to make a fool out of me. He thought he could get away with it. But I showed him.”

I was starting to get worried. John was suddenly very dark and sinister. Not at all the guy I was used to hang out with. He continued.

“That really scarred me. Now, I don’t trust women. Not a single fucking one. They’re all whores trying to milk me for every penny I’ve got. On the other hand, I’m not queer. And I don’t get hard-ons thinking about guys, you know? So what do I do now? I really didn’t know. Until that day at Martha’s Vineyard.”

My heart sank. The mention of Martha’s Vineyard made me very uneasy. He noticed the look on my face, then he smiled.

“Don’t worry. Everything’s fine. Trust me. I know I sound mad, but you shouldn’t have to worry. I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at them. But that morning at my place, when you put on my wife’s dress I got an idea.”

Oh, shit! He KNEW. He had seen me. I felt completely naked. Terror struck me, and I guess he saw it on my face.

“Don’t be afraid. Relax. Just hear me out. Anyway, when I saw you in that dress I got an idea. Women are whores. And I’m not into guys. But what if I could make a woman of my own? Someone I could trust? Someone I KNEW was not after my money, but who really liked me for who I am, and not for the money I own.”

I simply stared at him with a blank look in my face. What the hell was he talking about?

“And that’s where you come in. Seeing you in that dress caught me by surprise. I mean, it did fit you nicely, and you seemed to enjoy wearing it. Besides, I know you started wearing her underwear all the time you were there.”

I covered my face with my hands, and all I could say was, “Shit. I’m sorry. Let me try to explain. See…” But he interrupted me again.

“Buddy, I don’t give a shit. What matters is, that after that I checked you out. You’ve never had a girlfriend. Never. By your own admission, you’ve never been laid. And you look at me with droopy-dog eyes. I don’t know if you’re gay, per se. But I believe that you might be a woman in a man’s body. I like you. I really do. I think we hit it off great over the summer. I didn’t think of you sexually, but you were good company to hang out with. You weren’t sucking up to me or trying to get to my money. So, as far as I can tell: you don’t have a girlfriend, you’ve never been laid, and you wear women’s clothes. I think you may be a woman in a man’s body.”

“What? NO! Look, John. It’s not like that. Really. I swear. It’s just that I…”

“Please. Sit down and shut up.” His voice was commanding. It was hard not to do as he said. “Just answer me this, okay? And I’ll know if you’re bullshitting me. How long have you been dressing up?”

He stared at me, drilling me with his eyes. I was dumbfounded. I couldn’t think. “Since I was 13”.

“See? I knew it! I bet you anything you want that I’m right! You ARE a chick in a guy’s body”.

“John, please.” He wasn’t even listening to anything I said.

“So here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to help you find your true self. I’m going to help you bring that woman OUT! Okay?”

“No. It’s not okay. I’m not a woman! I’m a man! I may have some unusual sexual needs, but then again, who doesn’t? I won’t do it!”.

Suddenly, John stood up. His smile had faded, and his eyes turned icy-cold. I started to shiver.

“Ashton, I want you to shut the fuck up and listen to me very carefully. I’m a very wealthy, powerful and influential man. And I’m really, really pissed. If you refuse me, I swear you’ll regret it.”

I tried pleading with him. “John, “ I started in a begging tone, “you have to believe me. I don’t see myself as a woman. I’m a man. In fact, if I’m to be completely honest, I want to fuck my own mom. In fact, I started to make a move on her. I want to see if she’ll have me. I’m a sick person. I need help, not dresses.”

John was very serious and started speaking in a icy tone. “Listen Ashton, the life you knew, the life you were living… is OVER. As of today. As of right now. It’s gone. You have two choices: one, you can become a woman. My woman. Fashioned after what I think a woman should be. Surrounded by riches and wealth and with everything you want, simply a phone call away. Or two: you may go to jail. You will be arrested and convicted for the murder of Hector Andujar, a pool cleaner who was shot dead a few days ago. The police will find uncontested evidence of your involvement of the crime, and you will spend the next 20 years on death row before you get a lethal injection. Is that clear?”

He went over to the television set and popped in a DVD. The screen filled out with a black and white picture of a surveillance camera. The room on the screen was the room I had used on Martha’s Vineyard.

“When I found out my wife was cheating on me, I put these surveillance cameras to get evidence for our divorce hearing.” John said calmly.

As I looked at the screen, my heart sank. The figure on the screen was not his wife. It was ME. I was putting on dresses and masturbating in them. I would wear panties and bras underneath my clothes. All was captured on camera.

I closed my eyes and dropped on the couch. John pushed stop and eject. Then he put the other disc inside. What I saw, shocked me even worse. A Hispanic guy entered the room and sat on the bed waiting for someone. Then another figure entered the room. It was a man dressed in the same dress I was wearing. In fact, he looked a lot like me. He raised a gun, and shot the Hispanic guy twice. Then he masturbated, JUST LIKE ME, and left the room.

It looked as if I had put on a dress and shot that guy on the bed. John turned around and saw my face.

“Pretty convincing, eh? It looks like you shot Hector. And if you’re wondering about fingerprints, last night as you were sleeping, I came inside and put the gun to your hand.”

I couldn’t believe it. I was being framed by one of the richest men in the country. Possibly in the world.

“You see, Ashton. I already took care of my ex-wife. She’s now working as a two-bit cocktail waitress in some sleazy dive a few miles north of Las Vegas. She gets fucked by every Tom, Dick and Harry and barely makes minimum wage. But Hector was different. He’s an illegal. I couldn’t destroy his life because his life is pretty pathetic anyway. So I had him killed. And seeing you in my wife’s clothes inspired me to do it this way.”

“But, what about college? My parents?”

“Don’t worry about that. I can’t have that guy running around with the knowledge that he murdered some spic on my orders. He could have me framed. So I’ll take care of him too. He will have a car accident… IN YOUR CAR. He will be wearing your clothes and he’ll have your ID on him and I can assure you the police will conclude it was you who died in that car.”

He removed the other DVD and sat down next to me.

“So, the question now comes back to you. You may choose to go back to your appartment and get arrested within a few hours, after which you will be humiliated in front of everyone you know and will end up getting fucked up the ass for 20 years before getting a lethal injection, or you can stay here and live a new life. I promise you a life of absolute comfort and unimaginable wealth.”

I simply sat there. My mind was racing in a million directions. I couldn’t think clearly.

“Why don’t you have breakfast? Calm down. Think about it. I’ll be back in an hour and you can tell me what you chose.”

John got up and left, taking his videos with him. I just sat there staring at the blank television screen. My entire life had come crashing down, and I didn’t know what to do.