*** I will err on the side of caution and tag this story as forced fem. At the onset of the story it might seem so but that is revealed as not being true later on. You can always read it and decide for yourself.

Norman had quiet a family history. A half sister is one of his best kept secrets and when he is called on to serve on the secret service for the President she becomes more than just his saving grace. Will Norman follow the role model his father behind and 'do the right thing.'

Chapter 1

It was nothing more than a plain lime green post-it note that said contact. I found it in my payroll envelope, but I knew what it meant. My life sitting behind a computer desk was about to end for something far more interesting. What I had no clue, my contact would know, of course, but I would find out as much as I needed to know. 4:30 was written on the back. I knew the place and now I had a time. Tomorrow at 4:30 a.m.

I went to bed early that night, as I had grown quite accustomed to the 9:00 to 5:00 at my desk. And I'm sure my doctor friend, also my contact, wasn't happy about the hour set for our meeting. Contact was usually a sign that you were about to go undercover for a mission. I hadn't done any undercover work in several years. The company, as we call them, had decided my brains were more useful at a computer desk breaking codes. I kept tabs on the other side. It was my business to know who was who. To put a face with a name even if the names often changed and believe me, they did. Last year I had put a face to a name that we had been after for over five years. I got a commendation for it, too. Spies are rather camera shy, but I had finally caught this one.

I walked into the doctor's office and signed the register right on time. It was empty, of course, but I still had to go through the motions of being a patient. The nurse at the desk gave me a questionnaire to fill out and it was far more than just my medical history. Did I have family that was still living? Was I currently involved with a member of the opposite sex? Questions no doctor would have need to know, but the company would. My parents had long since died and I thought the company knew that and yes, I was dating, but nobody special at the time. It took almost an hour to fill it all out as some of the questions took more than a yes or no answer.

Another thirty minutes passed after I gave the nurse the clipboard back. Then I was called back to actually see the doctor. Jenny was my doctor and had been for years. We were very casual and I often gave her a hug, as I did this morning.

"Good to see you, Norman," she said, as she opened the door to the exam room.

Like any patient would I took a seat on the edge of the exam bed.

"Been busy?" Jenny smiled, as she asked.

"You know, same old stuff when you're stuck in an office."

"How well I know," she smiled, motioning to the surrounding.

"So what's up?" I asked.

"Don't have a clue this time," she smiled. "The Army asked us to round up several men and you're just one of six. You'll need to strip though. Ms. Manners will be in soon to look you over."

"That bad," I grinned.

"Like a bull in a china shop," she replied.

"This ought to be fun," I replied, as I neatly put my clothes on the hangers.

"Back in a few," Jenny said, as she closed the door and left.

It wasn't unusual for the military to pick through several possible candidates before deciding who they would use on an operation. It wasn't like my body had gone to hell while I sat at my desk for the last three years. I wasn't in top notch shape, of course, but I was far from being out of shape. I almost fell over when Carla opened the door and walked in. I knew her and more than just in the business way. We had worked an operation together several years back and spent far to much time cooped up in a tiny motel room
.
"I see you're still with us, Norman."

"Still here," I replied, "and you're looking no worse for wear, I might say."

"Yes. Well, you're the last person I expected to see in line for this," her voice trailed off as if she didn't say something she wanted to.

"Yes. "Well, I didn't expect to see you either," I grinned, as she walked around my naked body.

"I'm not so sure this is your kind of assignment. You would be great if it was, but..."

"But what?" I asked.

"We'll make you the stand by should our first choice wash out. We'll start your training tomorrow, but only use you if the other person washes out. I will tell you only this much. This is a long term covert operation. If you're not ready for that, say so now."

"Well, how long term?" I asked. "Our last operator was under for almost four years. Collapsed under the pressure. We had to fake his death and get him out. I don't think he'll ever be the same, but time will tell."

"And there's nothing more you're going tell me?"

"Nothing more I can. This is so secret not even your boss knows what is going on."

"Honey, my boss is the chief...he knows everything."

"Not this," she replied.

Jenny walked in just as she said that. We all smiled and it was as if the conversation started over. Jenny gave Carla the rundown on my health in general and Carla was steady looking me over again.

"The love handles have got to go," Carla said, as she looked at the doctor. "Do your stuff," she grinned. "He made the team. And hide the sausage while your at it...he wont be needing that for a while."

Carla handed me an envelope and told me to read it after the doc was done.

"You got it," Jenny said, as she watched Carla leave.

"Well, you probably know more than I do, but your the sixth guy and so far only three have made the team. Whatever that means," she added.

"Well, apparently there is a high stress factor and that's about all I know."

Jenny loaded a needle and I got a shot of something in the butt.

"On the bed and put your feet up here."

Jenny wanted my feet in the stirrups and that was more than a little odd.

"Get comfy. You're gonna take a little nap. By the time you wake up, it will be over."

Hide the sausage. What the hell did she mean by that? And why would an agent just up and collapse from stress? We were trained to know how to deal with that. Stress is a form of energy. We're taught how to turn that into something useful, not collapse under it. And how would the director of the C.I.A. not know what was going on in his own house? No way that was happening. My mind was working with all these questions at one time till finally I just feel off to sleep.

When I awoke, I was at home in my bed. Man if that was a dream, it was a good one. I told myself. By the clock it was 4:00 a.m. and Saturday, no less, a day that I normally slept in. But as if suddenly I was wide awake, I made my way to the kitchen and started some coffee. I felt a little weak this morning, but some good old caffeine would get me moving.

I opened the front door to get the paper and noticed the plain army vehicle sitting across the street from my house. When I opened the paper, I got the shock of my life. According to the date a month had passed and I had no clue as to how. And to top it off I was being watched. None of this made any sense at all. So I tried do the things I would normally do on a Saturday morning. I sat at the kitchen table with a hot cup of coffee and the newspaper.

As I flipped through the paper, I noticed the female sitting in the car across the street. It wasn't Carla, but it was a plain Jane car that only some branch of the military would have. After scanning through the front page and looking at the predicted weather for the weekend, I moved on to the sport's page. I was trying to act as normal as possible while my mind was trying to figure out where a whole month of my life had gone.

My house had been my mom and dad's place and the home of my childhood. I knew practically everybody around in one way or another and I watched the obits regularly, as the older people of the community died off.

My next shock came in the form of my own obit. Supposedly, I had been killed in a car wreck two days ago and was being buried today next to my mom and dad's plot in the cemetery. I resisted the urge to call the paper and tell them they had goofed up and I was still alive. If I were dead, then there was a reason for it and I would wait to see just what that was.

I poured a second cup of coffee and pondered my situation. If Norman Allan Wilson was dead, who would I be now and why? Why was the world, as it were, being told I was dead unless I was about to become someone else? And what good would it do for me to be dead? I mean, after the operation, whatever it was, I still needed a place to call home. Something just felt wrong about all this. Never mind that I was starting to feel my body again and it felt all wrong, as well.

My mind was going as fast as it would and just as I poured my third cup of coffee, the phone rang. "Hello," I said, sounding a bit like a sissy with a high pitched voice.

"Hi Nikki. How are you?"

Home is the obvious answer. I tried to lower my voice on purpose, but it wouldn't do it. It was Carla. I knew the voice all to well and she was the only person that knew my childhood nickname. My dad's name was Norman, too. So mom called me Nikki to keep down the confusion. And, yes, I spelled it that way on purpose.

"So I know you spotted Connie across the street."

"Yes, I did," I replied.

"Think of her as your handler. Just do what she tells you and all will be fine. You're in training for now and from the looks of it our first choice is going to wash out."

"Oh, really?"

"I can't imagine why. Did you kill him off, too?"

"Don't play smart with me," Carla spat. "You don't have a clue what's going on here and we're just doing what we have to do"

"I'm sure you are, but you forgot to tell me about it"

"Well, you were sleeping at the time," she giggled.

"Bull Shit," I spat. "You had me on ice for a month. Now you level with me or I call the boss."

"Call him. I doubt he will take a call from a dead man. You did see the obit. Right?"

"Damn straight," I did.

"Okay. "I'll tell Connie to fill you in a little, but after that you cooperate or I'll make that obit come true. You got it?"

Carla wasn't happy and to threaten my life was not her normal way. Whatever I was going to be doing it must be more than just important. I knew nothing and maybe less than nothing, but already she had threatened me. Within seconds Connie knocked on my door.

"Come in," I said, still not sure why my voice was so high and soft.

"Carla says, your upset."

"That's putting it mildly," I replied. "And if my voice doesn't go down..."

She held up her hand for me to stop speaking. "It's not going down anytime soon. Men. You're all alike," she added.

"And just what the hell does that mean?" I spat back.

"What it means," she said, as she got just inches from my face, "is that there are plenty of women who could easily do this job, but oh no,...it's got to be a man. Well, let me tell you, mister, I'm about as mad as you are so don't mess with me..okay?"

"Okay. So now why don't you at least give me a clue about what the hell is going on?"

"Then sit down and shut up and I will."

I took my normal chair and the cup of coffee and sat with the paper folded neatly in front of me.

"As you may know, we have elected a new president."

"Yes, I saw that."

"And for the first time in many years there will be no first lady. He's single."

"Yes, I know that too. So what does that have to do with me?"

"Right now he is picking his staff, but there are some he doesn't get to choose."

Right?

"Secret service handles all that for him. Well, almost all of it," Connie added.

"That still doesn't tell me what this has to do with me."

"I'm getting there," she half smiled. "

"From time to time the president travels."

"Again, yes, I know all about Air Force One."

"We know that, too, she smiled, as she looked me over.

Chapter 2

"And I know all the aids that travel with him. so on and so on. Get to the point." I tried to rush her just a bit.

"Well, since he's single he will need a travel companion, a mistress, if you will."

"Stop right there," I said in a single breath. "I'm not a lady, much less a female."

"How true, but that doesn't mean you can't become one, at least on a temporary basis."

"Do what?" My voice shot up.

"You're also going to be his pilot, his date for state dinners and the likes. You will be at his beck and call till we say otherwise."

"And just how do you plan to get me by the secret service?"

She reached in her tote and pulled out a large manila envelope and handed it to me.

"Welcome to the secret service," she said.

I opened the envelope and sure enough there was a badge with my name on it, but it was spelled Nikki Alicia Wilson. I had a new driver's license to match and according to it I was now a female. I had a triple A rated White House id so I could go anywhere I wanted to. My new pilot's license said I was a female along with my new birth certificate and everything else that you might imagine.

"So it's a done deal," I said.

"Pretty much," came Connie's reply, "unless you can't take it and wash out. Two already have so I suspect you will, too."

"Then why bother?" I asked.

"Because you applied for a spot in the secret service years ago and because Carla thinks you can do it. I disagree. You have two months to learn what it is to be a lady and to live 24/7 as a female. I doubt you last two weeks. My boss insists that it be a man for this job and the president is insisting on a female or at least he's insisting on a female pilot. He has no clue beyond that.

"So to be more than his pilot I'll have to catch his eye as well," I injected.

In a word, yes. He likes tall, well-endowed, redheads. In heels you'll be six feet. He's six-foot-six.

Oh, my lord. My brain kicked in and now I felt the weight on my chest. "You didn't." I looked her straight in the eyes.

"Yes, we did, along with a few other things that may have escaped your notice."

I almost ran to the bedroom with Connie fast on my heels. I all but ripped off my pajama top as I stood in front of the mirror. I wanted to cry on the spot. I had the most perfect set of D cups I had ever seen.

"Go on. You might as well see it for yourself."

I slipped the bottoms off as well, and between my legs what I saw could be called a vagina.

"It isn't real, but only you, me, and Jenny and Carla know that. "Your manhood is still there if that's the question your gonna ask next."

The twin bumps under my pubic mound could only be my balls and after several minutes the shock of it all wore off. My natural red hair was longer now and the natural curl had been styled to a feminine look. It all sank in as I looked in the mirror. My nose was smaller now and my strong chin line was all but gone. My forehead seemed smaller, too and I suspected my hair line had been moved to make it so. There wasn't a single strand of body hair save the patch around my would be vagina and that was thin and light.

"The corset?" I asked.

"You have been wearing it almost from the first day, 24/7."

"My waist is so small, no wonder I was full with just three cups of coffee."

"You now measure 36, 24, 36, with D cup breasts. Not bad for one month, don't you think? You see, Norman, the easy part is done. What happens now is up to you. You can quit, or wash out and that is what I expect."

"Or..., " I started the next sentence for her.

"You can start your training now and maybe by the time our new president is sworn in you'll be marginally believable."

I spent the rest of the day trying to justify the reality I saw in the mirror. Connie moved into the guest room while I spent a good two hours soaking in a bubble bath. It was little else but fuel for the fire to feel my breasts or my hand between my legs and feel my missing manhood. There was a hole there now and that alone would be enough to make most any man plenty mad. Never mind the D cup breasts that stood just above the water line in the tub.

As for Connie, it wasn't a matter of if, it was when I would wash out. True, I had applied for the secret service, but this wasn't exactly the job I had in mind.

When I stepped out of the tub, I could still see the figure I had, just as if the corset was still on. My body seemed so foreign to me now, but I knew it was still mine. I stepped on the scale and weighed in at a whopping 135 pounds, a far cry from the almost 180 I weighed just a month ago. And with all the other changes I could easily see, I made a faithful decision.

"I'll do it," I said to Connie, as I stood in the doorway in just my bath robe.

"You do realize that once you go public as a girl there is no way to come back. Not here and not to this life. Maybe somewhere else and maybe as a man, but the president's term is four years. And if you go the distance, you may never return to being Norman again."

"Well, my service does come with a price."

"Oh," she smiled. "Yes, from this day forward my health care is on Uncle Sam along with anything else I need to make this work. I'm giving up my whole life or the only one I have known and I want a no limit credit card paid by Uncle Sam as well."

"You make it through training and I'll get it done for you. Deal?" She asked, as she stuck out her hand.

"Deal," I replied.

It was just now 10:00 in the morning and Connie called Carla as soon as we sealed the deal.

"We got a winner. Send in the troops," she told Carla.

Thank goodness I lived in the countryside. An hour later it looked like I was having a party with all the trucks and cars parked in the yard. Carla would be the last to show and that wouldn't be for a while yet. Oh, and add a moving truck to the litany of vehicles parked in the yard.

I was ushered out by the pool where two women started on my nails. They each took a hand and later a foot. In nothing flat I had twenty matching nails and rather pretty at that. I was measured from my nose to my toes and it was decided that I was a size five, but with my overdeveloped chest and tiny waist line everything would have to be tailored to fit. I was given a bikini and told to rest by the pool. Talk about feeling naked and that was putting it mildly. I could hear people milling about in the house, but Connie would not let me go in.

Around lunch time Connie and I were served a fruit salad and diet drink and I was offered my first set of high heels. They fit tight and according to Connie that was a good thing. After lunch, if you could call it that, Connie had me start walking laps around the pool in the heels I had on.

"Head up, chest out, don't look at your feet," she kept shouting. She was worse than a drill sergeant and almost as loud at times. I just knew my feet would start to hurt at any moment, but they never did. And later over dinner Connie told me why. two inch heels aren't enough to make them hurt.

Dinner wasn't much different than lunch, just add some grilled chicken for taste. There was no shade at all around my pool and I felt like I was burned to a crisp by the sun. By now all I wanted to do was to go inside and settle down with a drink and good movie or something like that. After dinner I got a different set of heels and the laps started all over again. These were higher. How much I didn't know, but I did know I had to lean back to keep my balance or my boobs would have landed me straight on my face. Connie got the first mosquito bite and that was the end of the outdoors activities.

When I walked into the house, nothing was as I knew it. All the furniture had been changed and rearranged. It was tasteful, of course, but it shouted woman here from the roof top. Splashes of color pink and rose were everywhere. I could smell fresh paint and it seemed, well, different. Much more cheerful like it would be a fun place to be and then it hit me. I went straight to my bedroom and checked the closet as well as the dressers. Empty, nothing save the bikini I had on and that wasn't much, believe me.

"Get a shower and wash off the tanning oils before you go to bed. Lights out in thirty minutes," Connie all but ordered.

I slipped out of the bikini and into the shower. Much to my delight the water hitting my skin said I hadn't burned despite being in the sun all day. I did have a perfect outline of the bikini baked into my skin now and I knew Connie had the same. When I pulled back the bed covers, the sheets were satin, as was the pillow case. The mattress was soft, almost as if floating on a cloud, and I was plenty tired so I was asleep in no time.

Carla, true to her drill sergeant and style, had me up at 4:00 a.m. She gave me a silk house coat and some house slippers, as she called them, but, as you might have guessed, they had a heel to them. Now she was showing me about the kitchen.

"You need at least a few basic skills when it comes to preparing food."

I smiled as I told her there was no such food in my house. "I eat out. Food here would just spoil." As I sipped my first cup of coffee, Connie went through every cabinet in the kitchen. There was food, food, and more food and even the freezer was stocked now.

We were well into fall and while the nights were cool it was still plenty warm during the day. I wasn't totally helpless in the kitchen and Connie figured that out quick enough. It was a bad case of hard nipples that set us both off to laughing as hard as we could. The central heat wasn't set to come on till just before I got up in the morning and that was at my old nine to five job. So needless to say, my nipples were stuck in the on position that morning.

The heat did kick on, but not before the paint and plaster guys showed up and the plaster mold they were making of my torso so all the clothes could be tailored to fit. Well, lets just say it was very life like.

The paint crew did a quick touch up and was gone before the sun was really up. As quick as they left, it was back in the bikini and out by the pool. Now there was a group of high heels for two inch heels all the way up to six inches all lined up by the pool.

"Not hard to see what I'll be doing today."

"No, it's not, but now you need to learn to do it different. Women lead with their hips when they walk. It's a gentle twist at the waist towards the foot that moves next. Too much looks prissy and fake, but just enough will cause heads to turn."

"Like I have never seen that," I countered.

"No, but I doubt you ever had to do it."

"You have a point there," I said, as I made the first lap in three inch heels.

Now my boobs bounced with every step and I could actually feel my hips swaying whether I wanted them to or not. It was as if my body knew what to do and just did it as an afterthought. Connie saw the look on my face as I circled the pool.

"Yes, we did do a little suggestive brain washing while you were out. It makes the transition much easier."

"And if I had said, no?" I asked.

"It would have just laid there dormant for another day or a different operation."

"How clever," I said, as I passed her for about the fifth time.

"Okay, next pair," she said.

By lunch I was working up a sweat just walking around the pool in five inch heels. I was working on my third rub down with tanning oil and Connie had moved the strings of the bikini around so there would be no line. I might as well tell you it was a thong style bottom and the triangle just covered my would be vagina. The top just did cover my nipples and when she adjusted it, well, you can figure that out.

Chapter 3

After lunch I started with the six inch heels. Connie actually slipped on a pair as well and walked with me around the pool for several laps. I had to take a shorter stride and the sway in my hips became even more pronounced. My boobs bounced like they were on springs when I missed a step or took a stride that was too long. By dinner time I was walking correctly and when I sat, it was with my knees together like Connie had been pounding me to. Back straight, hands in your lap, she would snap each time I sat down.

For a month things went on like this and I never left the house. I did my makeup every day now, even though nobody would see it. I learned how to dress up or down depending on the occasion and I learned that the president to be had a thing for skirts and dresses.

"He likes the legs exposed," Carla had told me on the phone.

"I thought this was a shoe in," I said, as she had told me a great many things the president did and didn't like.

"Oh the job is. You're his pilot, no questions asked, but becoming his mistress or escort, well, you'll have to get his attention for that job."

Well, that explained why everything in my closet now were two sizes, short and shorter.

A week before our new president was to be sworn in at the white house Connie pronounced me pretty well done. I had finally convinced her to lay out nude with me and now there were no tan lines at all. And with my face as tan as the rest of me I could do very little in the way of makeup and looked pretty darn good. Of course, I had soaked up enough tanning oil to make my skin as soft as butter. Heck, even my hair had gotten softer and much longer to boot. My natural curl was all my hair needed, save a quick brushing and a barrette to change the style if needed and I had become rather adept at doing that as well.

It was my night to cook and Connie said I should cook for four.

"Are we expecting company?" I asked.

"Could be. I just want to be prepared either way and as soon as dinner is ready, you should change into something a bit formal. That mini dress we talked about would be good," she added as she walked away.

Why did this sound like a set up to me. Carla had been our only guest and she never stayed.

Just as I finished the stir fry and bread and placed it on the table, Connie put on some music by the Boston Pop. It was soft dining and dancing type of music and she sure was watching the clock for some reason. I already had on the skin tight dress and I was all but sure you could see the corset through it.

"No, you look fine. Now do your makeup and get with it girl."

Where was her head tonight? Granted, we were down to just a week to go, but according to her I was doing great and better than that at times.

The black dress was thin as paper and the nude stockings attached to the garters of the corset showed my tan off very well. Never mind that one slip and my dress would be above my stocking tops. I had practiced many times now what to do if that happened. The bell for the front door went off and Connie said she would get it before I had the chance to move. I had set the table for four so I knew someone was coming. I figured it was Carla and some secret service guy to check me out.

Connie came to my room with a grin the size of Texas on her face.

"We have guests. You're not going to freeze up on me now, are you?"

"Hell, no," I said in a low voice since ladies weren't supposed to talk that way.

"Okay. Well, come to the table when you're ready."

I added a coat of gloss to my lips and put on an extra touch of perfume. Beautiful had been my favorite scent as a man and it still was. Only now I was the one wearing it. I stood in front of the mirror and checked one last time before I headed for the dining room.

I was closing the diamond necklace around my neck as I went and then turned back for the matching earrings. I checked again in the mirror. Now the picture looked right. I stopped dead in my tracks when two armed body guards stood beside my dining room door. I could see Carla and Connie, but that was all. As I approached the table, our soon to be president stood up and held my chair for me.

"Nikki, meet your new boss." Carla said.

"Mr President, I'm sorry. I had no idea you were coming tonight."

"Then we're even," he spoke softly. "I had no idea where Carla was taking me tonight. All she said was it was time to meet my new pilot."

"Well, Carla is known for her surprises of late."

"Well, this one I like," and he had never taken his eyes off me.

A third agent was sampling the food, as if it might be poison or something. Carla and Connie seemed to be judging the presidents reaction, but I already knew I had his attention.

"So Carla tells me you once flew fighter jets in the military,"

"Yes, sir, and I still have my rating for the bigger planes, as well."

"You do realize that Carla wants you to pull double duty."

"How so?" I asked, trying to sound a bit surprised.

"Well..." he paused, as if looking for the right words. "From time to time we have state dinners and other things where I need a female companion. She thinks you're just the girl for the job."

"I would be honored, Mr. President."

We ate and I was never so glad for the manners I had been taught so long ago. We had a red wine with the dinner since it had meat and after the meal I opened a bottle of white wine to go with the dessert. Needless to say, I picked at my food more than I ate and the president gave me many compliments. From my tan, of course, to my dress, the food, the house, and he even praised Carla for choosing me.

I gave the president the tour, saving the patio and pool area for last. Connie and Carla just seemed to drift away and were busy talking to the other agents. The president and I stood looking at the Rocky Mountains just making small talk in general. He placed his arm around my waist and asked if I would dance. The same cd was playing for about the fourth time, but I said, yes, just the same. We did a very easy waltz on the patio and he never took his eyes off me. He was rather graceful for a man and I struggled to remember to let him lead. At the end of the dance he kissed me and not the casual peck on the cheek. It was full on the mouth.

Carla interrupted us reminding the president he had a busy day tomorrow. The president nodded at one of the other agents and within a few short minutes he was headed out the door and off to his safe location. Now, it was just me and Connie again.

"Well?" Connie looked at me with a smile.

"Well, what?" I shot back.

"You danced with the president and he kissed you. I saw it. And all you have to say is well."

"He's a good dancer and the kiss....it was so, so. This is work Connie, not an affair."

"Looked like a little of both to me," she said.

"Sure. Let's clean up the kitchen and get some rest," I replied.

Connie could sense I wasn't thrilled like a normal woman would have been and in my mind it was work. I was after all part of the secret service now even if the president didn't really know that. I'm sure at some point he would find out and probably even find out he had kissed a man tonight. Granted, that wasn't what he saw, but that was the truth of the matter and I told Connie as much while we cleaned the kitchen.

I was surprised when I got to the bedroom and started getting ready for bed. On my pillow was an invitation from the president to the white house ball on inauguration night signed by the man himself with a simple p.s., I know.

What did he know and had I been played for a fool? I wanted to cry once again, but I didn't allow myself this time. It's just a job I reminded myself and if he already knows, then it just became that much easier on me.

I so hated to have to sit to pee, but I needed to and did before I slipped into my teddy. To my surprise the crotch of my panties were soaking wet and it wasn't pee. Had I been sexually turned on and didn't even know it? I wasn't even going to ponder that thought tonight. I was sleepy now and all I really wanted to do was rest.

The next morning I went public for the first time as a female. I was past due for my checkup with Jenny. I wore a simple skirt and blouse with all the accessories and my least favorite pair of four inch heels. It would be my first chance to speak with Jenny alone since all this started. I had questions and lots of them. Jenny wouldn't like me questioning her work. I figured that was the way she would see it. I still wanted some answers and I was determined to get them. Even as I sat in the waiting room area, I went over what I wanted to know.

My train of thought was broken by the nurse calling me back to see Jenny, Nikki Wilson, the nurse, said probably not aware of my true gender. Jenny's mouth all but fell open when she saw me. She didn't say anything in the hall for all to hear, but as soon as we were in the room, she started talking a mile a minute and I finally had to stop her to get a word in edgewise.

"What the hell is going on here?" she sputtered. "The secret service came and took you away. I checked. You were dead. You were dead. I know you were dead." She just kept repeating that over and over again. I held her by the arm and shook her just a bit.

"I'm not dead. They just wanted you to believe that I was."

"Now I know why they let me come back to see you."

"What! And who is they?" She added.

"This isn't your work so there is nothing you can tell me," I said motioning at my body.

"The hell you say it isn't," she sputtered. "If they had gotten their, way you would look like a cheap whore."

"Is that so?" I asked.

"Hell, yes, that's so. Get undressed, please," she came back to her business-like self. She gave me a full exam and then we talked for several minutes. "Had they gotten what they wanted your hips would have implants as big as your boobs and your boobs would be twice that size."

"Jenny, I haven't touched a razor since I came to from all this, but my skin is smooth as a baby's bottom, even my face," I added.

"I know. They had me remove it all, save the patch around your pubes that I insisted on leaving."

"What else, quickly? Connie will come to check on me if I'm gone too long."

"Well, everything," she said, as I was getting dressed.

"My manhood tells me quickly what you did."

"Your balls are tucked under your pubes and that's not good. Your penis is still there. I just folded your sac over it like a hotdog in a bun then sewed it closed."

"Hormones. What about hormones?" I asked. "My hips are getting bigger and my bras are getting tighter by the day."

"Yes, you have pellets in the lower part of your butt cheeks that will last for at least six months."

"And if I stay the course?" I asked.

"Well, with the proper paper work and some simple testing you could have the operation to become a real woman, but that takes a year to do," she added.

"And for now?" I asked.

"You're fine. Everything looks great, as far as I can tell."

I was slipping my shoes on when Connie knocked on the door.

"Is everything okay, Doc?" She looked at Jenny.

"Sure. Everything looks great as far as I can tell, but I'll need to see her again in about six months."

Connie wrote the date down in her planner book and we told Jenny goodbye. It would be early spring before I saw her again, but that was time enough for me to find out what I wanted to know or at least I hoped so. There were some things I had to know before I crossed the line of no return, as it were. Knowing where the line was would be a good start.

By the time Connie and I arrived back at the house, there was a small moving truck sitting in the drive.

"Now what?" I spat.

"We're moving to Washington," Connie grinned. The president has approved you as his new pilot and I have become the social secretary. You know what this means?" Connie almost sounded giddy.

"No. Tell me," I shot back. She caught the sarcasm in my voice that time.

"It means the president approved your demands. That is, if you haven't forgotten them by now. And with me in place as the social secretary I will know every event long before it happens so you will always be available. And save what we decide to take with us, the White House pays for everything, period."

"Is that so?" I looked at her as unamused as possible.

"You know,".... she looked at me rather sternly, "the average woman would see this as a Coup. Anything you want or need paid for, no questions asked. Do you even begin to realize what a ball gown cost these days?

"Well, no, but I'm sure you're going to tell me."

"Cheap ones are over $500.00 and the more expensive ones run well into the thousands."

"Oh, right.....but then I'm not really a girl."

"Damn you," Connie spat.

Connie and I moved that day and the president would not have it any other way. I had to live in the White House, itself. As for that, I'm not really a girl dig. I used that often on Connie and Carla when they seemed to forget the reality of things. I could see the road ahead, but Connie and Carla just saw their turn at the top. Even after speaking with the director of the Secret Service I was sure this was not a well thought out plan, me pretending to be a female and a sometimes personal other to the president.

Sooner or later word would get out. It would be me splashed on the front page of the local news. ‘President's girlfriend was once a man', the headlines would say. The scandal would see me lose my job as well as my position and soon nobody would touch me for any job no matter how low the priority was. I would spend the rest of my life looking at four walls and desks with a computer sitting on it and that would be it. I had to be prepared for that day, like it or not.

After the ball I was pretty well settled into my quarters at the White House. Each morning flowers and coffee were delivered to my room and the president would call to check on my well being, as it were. I was all but being a kept woman and it did have its good points. Connie and Carla often took me out for a night on the town and I was never so amazed at the men that tried to pick me up. It took only three months for word to spread that the president was making time with his pilot for Air Force One.

Security was stepped up around me and that pretty much ended the nights on the town with Connie and Carla. I had done the research. My breasts would never go away. I could take the implants out, but the natural breasts would still be there. My male parts would suffer the worst and if I followed through, for the most part they would be discarded. Once the operation was done and the healing time had passed, for the most part not even another doctor would ever know I was a man. It was an option I had to consider. Not that I had ever seen myself as becoming a real woman or not before now.

The days passed and the president and I saw each other almost on a daily basis. We often had our meals together and he always cleared the room so what we said was just between us. The day before I was to go back and see Jenny I told him about the trip. Of course he knew before I told him. Connie had beaten me to the punch. He got an almost sad look in his eyes and then he placed his hand over mine. I know you made some really hard decisions to be here and I'm sure you have still even more to make.

"Whatever choice you make I will stand beside you all the way," he said.

"It's just a check up," I smiled.

"I know," he smiled back.

I landed the Cessna at the airport just ten miles from the hospital where Jenny worked. A secret service car took me to the hospital and this time it was just me. No Connie or Carla looking over my shoulder and yes, I think the president himself saw to that. Connie was supposed to be here, too, but something suddenly came up and she couldn't go. I doubt that was the truth, but that was what I was told. Jenny was my best kept secret. She was my half sister and nobody but nobody knew that.

You see my dad dated a very wealthy man's daughter when he was still a minor. Sarah became pregnant with Jenny and as the wealthy often do to avoid any scandal, they sent Sarah away till after the baby was born. My dad had to agree to change his name legally and Sarah had to agree to give the child up for adoption. No way were they going let Sarah marry my dad.

So in walks the Wilson family. Another very wealthy family and my dad's boss to boot. That's right. He worked for the Wilson family till the day he died. My dad was an orphan at a very young age. Ms Wilson took him in off the streets and treated him as her own. He started working for the family as soon as he was old enough and worked his way up the ladder. But here's the tricky part.

Ms. Wilson could not have children and she and Mr. Wilson so wanted someone to leave the family fortune to. Dad struck a deal with the Wilson's to adopt Jenny before she was ever born.

He was crushed that he would not be allowed to marry the love of his life, Sarah. And more so that the child born of that love might be forever lost. The deal went through and my dad, as much as the Wilson's, raised Jenny right from her birth. As part of the deal, Dad could never lay claim to Jenny or the Wilson family fortune, but he would get to see his daughter become a woman.

As soon as dad became a legal adult, all the court records and other documents concerning what had happened were sealed for all time. But he was smart and a damn fine record's keeper. You see he was the accountant for the Wilson family and never spent a day in college to do it. He made and kept copies of everything that happened concerning Jenny from her birth certificate to her fingerprints and footprints made as a baby. Even her school report cards were kept by my dad.

My dad later married my mom and I was born some seven years later. Mom was a small, almost fragile woman and dad guarded her like a treasure. Sarah was killed in an auto accident at age forty and ten years later I lost both my mom and dad in an accident. Jenny was already in college by the time the Wilson family adopted me and I stayed with them just long enough to get my bearings and get out on my own.

I went into the military at age 18, then off to school where I was taught a good many things a man should know. At the end of my four years I had enlisted for, the C.I.A. came calling. I took their offer with one catch. I would be assigned to an office out west. My family and friends were there and that was where I wanted to be. At the time I had no clue that Jenny was my real half sister.

The first operation I worked on with the C.I.A. I got shot. Not bad, but it was enough to sideline me for several months. Computers were the in thing now and I took every class available to learn all I could about them. In the meantime I had watched for the home of my childhood to come on the market. That house had meaning to me and I so wanted it back in the family. That was the place where dad and Sarah had conceived Jenny and he and mom conceived me there as well. Finally, hope against hope paid off and I was able to buy the house.

The Wilson's had passed on now and that left Jenny and me. Their attorney and my dad's best friend was in bad health and he called me to his bedside. He never said a word. He just took the chain from around his neck and gave it to me. On it was the key to a safety deposit box at the bank down the street. I had no idea what I would find there, but it must have been important, I remember thinking. He died while I was there and I didn't go home to mourn the loss as most would have. I went to the bank and presented the key.

A much older woman whose name I didn't even know almost broke down in tears when I asked to get the contents on the box. Her last name was Whitmore and she stood in silence as I opened the box. The first thing I saw was Jenny's birth certificate and I wondered why Nelson had given this to me.

"Take it home, son," Ms. Whitmore said. "Too much history in there for you to read it all here."

I didn't realize till I was leaving that her name and the name on the bank was the same.

It took me a year to sort it all out even with all the notes dad had left behind. It was so hard to believe what my eyes told me was the truth. Even though I knew the truth I still sat on what I knew for another year. Ms. Whitmore down at the bank had passed away that year, too. Yet another reason I watch the obits.

You see things are never as black and white as we would like for them to be. My dad's real name was James Whitmore and Ms Whitmore down at the bank, her name was Irene, she was Sarah's oldest sister. She married my dad's only brother and it made sense now that he changed his name. The bank was less than a year old when all this happened and the Whitmore name could stand no less scandal than Sarah's family could. Irene was my aunt and if the truth be told, the keeper of all the family secrets along with Nelson her son and the family lawyer. Even Nelson changed his last name just in the case the truth ever came out.

Once Nelson passed me the key to the box at the bank, Irene had nothing left to live for and she told me as much in a letter she wrote just days before she died. Having no one else to leave it to, she left me all she owned and that included a sizeable chunk of the bank. So now with all the players gone, save Jenny and myself, I asked her out for dinner. It sounded like a date and I fumbled with words trying to tell her it was business, but she accepted before I got that far.

Over a very nice dinner that I cooked, in the very house where all this started, I sat and watched as she poured over all the papers I had.

"You're my brother," she looked at me.

"Half brother," I smiled.

"And Bill and Irene were our aunt and uncle and it was our dad that kept the bank going.

Look at all the money he put into it. Bill was his brother, what could he say... no?"

"Do you realize how wealthy we are now?" She looked at me.

"Honey, you're already wealthy and then some."

"And the man I thought was my brother was really my dad. And the bank?" she looked up at me again.

It's mine for the most part, but I'm keeping my hands off right now."

"But why?" She asked.

"There's one player left, one person who probably knows far more than she will ever say."

"Nelson's wife?" Her eyes lit up.

"Yes," I replied. "And the current C.E.O. of the bank, handpicked and placed there by Bill. So she dare not breathe a word.

"If she did, you I get everything." Jenny replied.

"Yes, and now you know the truth."

"That bank only made it because of our dad's money and, of course, his love for you. Since you're adopted, the Wilson's didn't have to leave you anything.

"Dad wasn't about to leave you here with nothing or me for that matter and now all that is left for us to do is wait till Ann is no longer the head of the bank."

"Or until she dies," Jenny said.

"Well, the bank is rightfully ours, but causing a scandal won't prove anything. Far better to let the past stay there and look forward to whatever the future holds."

Jenny and I agreed that night to never speak again about what we knew till Ann was gone. We toasted the agreement with a nice white wine and swapped stories about our dad till well into the morning hours. From that point on we were brother and sister, but nobody would ever know that from us. The next day I took all the papers back to the bank and put them right back in the box. Ann just glared at me like I was a mortal enemy or a person she feared. Sure, Jenny and I could have dropper her on her butt with nothing, but what my dad did was based on his love for us. Jenny and I would bring no honor to that by causing a stink.

The car stopped in front of the hospital and Jenny was standing at the door. I stepped out and saw the look on her face as the ambulance pulled away from the curb.

"She's dead," Jenny said.

"Who's dead?" I asked, as I followed her into the hospital.

"Ann. It's all yours now and no scandal or red tape can stop that. She told the board even."

"What? You mean the board at the bank?"

"Yes, the bank silly."

"In private, Jenny....we agreed. Remember?

Jenny took me to an exam room, the reason I was there to start with, and gave me the once over.

"Well, so far you're fine, but now you have to make a choice. More hormones will mean never bringing back your manhood. No hormones means it will come back on its own in time. And if you choose to stay on as the president's girl, I would strongly suggest the hormones."

"You make this sound very cut and dry," I replied.

"Well, for the most part it is."

"And how long before I start to look like a man again?"

"Not long," she smiled. "You have already been through puberty twice. I don't think you want to do that again."

"You're not gonna make this easy at all, are you?"

"Not my job," she smiled.

"Okay, do it and set up the operation. I'll see you in six months."

"Don't forget you'll need those papers before the operation," she added.

Jenny owned Wilson Memorial and now I owned the bank. She could do anything she wanted and I could afford it, too. So she was just rubbing it in. Still I would need the papers and she knew it. I flew back to D.C. that night.

I asked a friend to quietly look into the holdings and net worth of the Whitmore Bank. I wanted a down to the penny statement and I also wanted to know if there were any offers on the table to buy it lock, stock and barrel. It was far too many months and even more state dinners before I found out what I really wanted to know. There was a standing offer for the bank and the owner could walk away with just over $100 mil after taxes. The bank, itself, would be closed. It was in the old part of downtown and few people shopped that area anymore.

I pondered my personal fate as the growing scandal over who I really was gained momentum. So far the White House and the secret service had managed to keep a lid on the truth, but the strain of it all was taking its toll on everyone. Only four people really knew the truth about me. At times the president acted as if he did, but he never treated me as if I was anything but a lady. As the Christmas and New Year's holidays rolled around, I was pleasantly out of sight as far as the White House went.

Actually, I was undergoing the operation that would change my sex from male to female and this must have really been a big deal to Jenny. She had been sending me emails for months now about how she could make me so real as a female. How little did I know that I was getting far more than I had ever bargained for.

With robotic laser surgery most of my prostrate was cut away. A sure sign of a man that had been changed to a woman. It was done so precisely that to the touch no doctor would even know it had been there. I got all the plumbing a normal female would have as well. And I almost fainted when Jenny told me yes I possibly could get pregnant once I was healed. I had dotted every I and crossed every T. Nobody knew where I was, who I was, or what I was doing. I spent most of my recovery time in a mountain cabin that was owned by Jenny. And once Jenny pronounced me healed, I left, going back to D.C.

I had unfinished business in D.C. and once that was done, if the president asked me to, I would leave. A month after my return and under no small amount of pressure the president invited me to a staff meeting. So with Connie, Carla and several top aids on hand to witness my answer the president asked me straight out if I was a male or a female. Female was my answer and he smiled bigger than I had ever seen him do. I could have left right then, but I wasn't hardly done.

"However, Mr. President," his eyes went downcast as if I had shot him myself, "you should know I am a member of the secret service, as well."

His head shot up and he looked at the director as if to ask for a full explanation on the spot. I listened as the director laid out all the reason he needed to have a love interest.

"Do you know how many third world female spies would be knocking on your door, sir?" He added.

"So male or female, not withstanding, Nikki was put here on purpose. Like a scarecrow in a field of corn because if have a girl, the others will stay away. Right?"

"Well, yes, in a way, sir," the director muttered.

"Get out. All of you get out. Nikki stay right where you are."

We spoke, but I will spare you the details. He had known from the start I was a man and when I left his office that day, he knew full well I was a woman. Carla and Connie transferred out the next day to some other duty in the White House. The director tried to cut a deal for his silence, but after the witness protection group got through with fixing the holes in my background, well, that fell apart real quick. He could tell any story he wanted to. The evidence was clearly on my side and nobody would believe him. And that day, too, I left the White House never to return.

I saw the president many, many, times even after I left. I sold the bank, took my money and all the papers that were stored there and left, but not before I gave Jenny everything. The house, the land and even enough information to find me if it came right down to it. I bought a small island not far from the Bahamas. It was once owned by an oil baron and was actually a very self sufficient place all in all. Between the water and solar power stations a radio and TV tower and now the fiber-optics was there, too. I could easily be found if needed.

It was a choice. I could have saved myself as a man, but in the process how many lives would I have lost just to save my own? Who knows, I might even cause us to lose a president. What I chose was to let a photographer with a quick eye get a shot up my skirt. I wore no panties and my legs were just wide enough to dispel the myth of manhood. The story died real quick after that and the president was even elected to another term in the oval office. He still visits me from time to time and I went and got Jenny for a couple of weeks as well.

As for Carla and Connie well, Connie knew I had worked undercover as a female before. That's what I was doing when we met the first time drunk off my butt after that operation was done. I confessed to really liking the idea of being a female. Working the in circles of the well to do I had been treated like a queen and back then had enjoyed every minute of it. And while I would never be considered gay even back then, I had caught the eye of a very wealthy man. Carla pretty well just dropped off the radar and even Connie had no clue where she ended up.

He wasn't the target of the operation. But he was close so I had to be nice to him. Long after we had busted the drug runners in the group he would call me, ask me to be his date for one function or another if he felt the least bit threatened. So it was really more like personal body guard duty than a date. But it was the chance as well to dress up and feel like a woman again so I often did what he asked. After the last attempt on his life he pretty well dropped out of sight. He was an oil baron, you know.