"So, you don't like this girl Heather?"   Rutherford asked of me as we strolled about the park.   He was a mysterious sort of fellow, one that appeared out of nowhere as I walked in silence, clearing my head.

"It sucks, I can't take it anymore.   I hate her, she drives me insane."

"Women have a tendency to do that to a man.  But you’ve known her since you were a couple years old. She’s always been with you. You don't think there's a reason for having her in your life?   Perhaps to balance Stephen?"

The question caught me off guard.  I answered quickly without giving it much thought, "Come on, none of my other friends have to deal with her, or a woman like her."

"Partially true, not every one of them do.   But you might be shocked to find you are not alone.”

Truth was, I felt alone and lost.   I couldn't imagine how others could deal with a woman like Heather.   She was always following me around, taking part in all the manly things I did, yet trying desperately to add her feminine touch.  

I bought a new 4x4, a Jeep Wrangler four door with the full off-road package.   It was a man's RV, one I hoped to keep with a perpetual layer of dried mud on the bottom half, but Heather would come out and wash her against my will.   She would clean my Jeep, wax her, and even clean out the inside, leaving a gay smelling lavender air freshener, a purple piece of cardboard, dangling from the rear view mirror. My manly jeep reeked of her femininity.

The guys laughed and made fun of how whipped I was, letting this girl run my life. God forbid the day they finally meet her. I went through great lengths to keep her from them, never letting them see her. Yet without ever laying eyes on her, they hated her and all she stood for.   They all though she, like many other domineering women, trying to rob men of their God given masculinity, and force their female ways on them.   I despised her just as much as they did, more so, but she wouldn't leave, no matter how hard I tried to kick her out of my life.

My Jeep wasn't the only place, my house had her markings everywhere, even the garage.   My workbench, my tools, hell even my gun cabinet, were all organized and labeled with her pretty writing.   No matter how many times I removed the labels in anticipation of the guys coming over, the next day, it would all be back, the crescent wrench clearly identified with her exquisite penmanship.
  
When other girls came over, I tried to purge her things from the house.   I locked her clothes away, dumped out the scented candles and dried rose petals collected in a jar on the toilet.   The cute flowery towels would be replaced with my damp, nappy smelling Green Bay towels my sister bought me.

I did everything I could to get rid of Heather's presence, hoping for a fun filled weekend of promiscuous sex with other women.   Most of the time, I would screw these women just to spite Heather, other times, I would try for something more.   It wouldn't go far before Heather would suddenly show up or they found something that belonged to her.   Women were good at finding all the little things we guys missed.   A few times it was a pair a panties stuffed in the couch, or the smell of Heather's perfume.   The potpourri I now hide, finding it to be a woman's way of letting other women know the man is taken.

The look on their faces were always the same.   They would stand there in shock, silent and frozen as they processed their feelings.   Quickly, anger would surface as they realized they had been had.   Some simply laughed and left quickly, but most wouldn’t be so lucky. Heather would tear into them and a girl fight would ensue, Heather fighting for what she thought was hers.  

One night, in the middle of a sweaty, dirty round of passionless sex, Heather interrupted two two of us.  We were enjoying ourselves, when she suddenly burst onto the scene, making herself known to my date. The two girls began fighting and eventually the woman, whose name I forgot, ran out the front door in tears, screaming threats.

She returned in the night like others, desperate for some payback, writing horrible things in my lawn, or spray painting obscenities on my garage door.   Heather never judged.   It was the one thing about her I found admirable.   She never said a word, she simply returned her territory to the way she left it.  Dressed in her most desirable night clothes, she would curl up in front of the TV with a bottle of wine and cry herself into a drunken mess, while forcing me away until morning.

"So, why do you wish me to do something about her?   She sounds like a very special person, one that loves you very much."

"Get rid of her.  If you are offering me a wish, I would want for you to make her disappear."

"I can not do such a thing.   I may have authority from the Divine to intercede in many matters, but one thing I can not do is undo one of His creations.   Stephen, Heather is a part of your life, you are meant to be together forever.   She's a sweet, loving, caring woman who wants nothing but the best for you.   The recklessness of your daily life is kept in check by her feminine qualities.   This is the reason for males and females.   Not so one will dominate the other, but to complement each other, each bringing their best to counter the other's worst.   They're meant to work as a team, not solo.

"I hate her, I don't want her around.   She's like my mother, a constant nag, forcing me to be someone I'm not.   All her feminine crap, her moods, her obsessive compulsiveness, her mission to suppress my masculinity, I want it to end.   I just want to live my life as I want to."

"And how is it you want to live?"

I was speechless, frozen in utter silence just as my one night stands would when caught off guard by Heather's sudden appearance in my home.  Being a free bachelor as many of my friends were, that is how I wanted to live.   To have a single pair of shoes in each class, and nothing more.   No more embarrassment from her dressing me in clothes she finds handsome.

Her sobbing up in the theater, her sudden mood swings, her inability to make a decision, it all drove the man in me insane.   And what would I give to get away for a weekend alone in the desert, where I could enjoy time with the guys, driving dangerously, drinking and and killing small varmints without her crying about it.  God made me a man, and damn it, that's what I want to be.  It's good to be a man.

"God did not create you that way, a mindless, emotionless man," Rutherford said as if reading my thoughts.  "He gave you Heather.   She's a gift, something not all men receive the way you did.   She wants nothing more than for you to quit pretending she's not there.   She wants you to acknowledge her.   If only you two could work together as one, instead of constantly fighting each other."

"This is bullshit," I said, raising my voice.  "I don't want to fight her, I don't want to work with her, I just want her out of my fucking life.   I'm sick of that bitch tormenting me every day.   If you are really as you say, some angel from above trying to fix me, then prove it, cast her away."

"And I have told you, I can not.   She is a living person, a special creation and there is nothing I can do to rid her from you...She is part of you."

"Why the hell did He do this to me?  He think this shit's funny, watching his creation living in misery every day of his life, confused as to who he is?"

"No Stephen, He does not, which is why he sent me.  My purpose, just as you have a purpose, is to help you.   You think you have no purpose, but you do.  You just think it's all about drinking and shooting guns in the desert."

"I have a purpose, and I've realized that.  I own a large company, one I created with my talent, all the bullshit He supposedly gave me."

"It's not bullshit, and yes, he did give you those gifts.  But simply making money is not what you were sent here to do."

"So, what can you do for me if you won't get rid of her?"

"Sorry, I can't kill her.   She exists, and everything He has brought into existence, will continue to live forever.   First as corruptible flesh, later glorified.   Even those who do not wish to take part will live on past this life.   Heather, no matter how much you would like, will always be committed to your life.   She loves you, you just have to love her too."

The gears started spinning inside.   I processed all the angel said.   This old man with his charming British accent and calm demeanor, he presented himself in human form, partially resembling my grandfather.

"Rutherford, you can not kill, but can you create?"

"There is only one who can create, what is it you wish?"

"Rutherford, what if you were to cast her from me, but instead of killing her, give her her own body.   Let her live on as a tangible person.   Hell, make her my wife.  You say she loves me, and I can love her too, for there is much about her that is desirable, only she will no longer share this body.  She can be herself, and I can be myself.  We will be two, but one as originally intended.  It would be like putting Adam to sleep and creating Eve from his own flesh."

"Interesting proposal.  You definitely use that gift of creativity.  To solve problems and find solutions, well done."

"So I can be free?"

"Do you think you will be?"

"Hell yeah, it's perfect.   All the conflict would be like a regular marriage.   The female inside me will finally be gone and the bickering will be like a normal male-female relationship."

I grew excited at the idea of finally ridding her from my life.   Free from the conflict constantly plaguing my daily thoughts.   The emotional mess will leave this body and inhabit a proper female body, one designed to carry Heather through life instead of sharing this masculine space.   The feminine clothing, the tear-jerker films, her obsessive nature, her love for animals, and desire to help her fellow humans will carry over to her own flesh, leaving me alone with no one else inside.

"Assuming He accepts, are you prepared to remain committed, honoring this deal?   This new being that will be brought forth into the world, you will give your undying love and commitment to, forever respec--"

"--Yes.  Anything.  I no longer want to be confused.  She will finally be real, and I will have no shame.   All my friends will soon meet Heather and see for the first time the wonderful woman who was trapped in this body for so long.  Will you make her beautiful, everything she's always dreamed of being?   Will she remain committed to me, loyal? Heck, for fun, maybe make her a little submissive."

"She already is, you know that.  She has never left you.  She has always been willing to do as you say, provided you acknowledge her, and love her.  As for her looks, she will be a beautiful woman, radiating in exquisite feminine beauty."

"What of my interests?"

"Your hobbies, your activities?"

"Yes."

"Why Stephen, she already enjoys all that you do.   Women are like that, they learn to enjoy things they instinctively dislike.   She learned to like camping, and shooting, football and hockey to fit in.  She loves you and was more than willing to find a way to enjoy all that you do, in order to be part of you.   She simply added her own enjoyments, blending the two together.   You've never tried to like what she does."

"Yes, I have."

"No, not sober." He was right.   All the times I cross dressed, I was drunk off my ass or high.   In fact, it wasn't even me during those moments.  Heather was in control, not me.  When I was clean, I hated everything about her.

"Maybe you're right."

"I am, and if this is to work, you will learn to enjoy the things she is passionate about.   Can you commit yourself to that?   Can you commit yourself to her, help bring her to life?"

"Yes."

"Good, then it shall be done."   Rutherford held his hand out, opening his palm to reveal a small vial.

"By drinking this, you will seal the deal, and your desire will be realized.  You will no longer have a conflict, but two separate persons will exist.   All of Heather's being, including the totality of her femininity will embody an entirely new creation, leaving this male body void of any female traits, relying solely on his new bride to balance him.  The two of you will awake together in each other's arms, your first morning together as husband and wife."
  
I took the vial and quickly unscrewed the cap.  It was a milky, but odorless.

"This is binding, your wedding vows in liquid form.  Once you drink, it can not be undone and you will be bound to uphold your commitment to each other until death.  You will never see or hear from me again."
  
I simply nodded and downed the liquid, holding it in my mouth as I thought of the freedom I would soon have, finally free of the conflict, the endless gender battle waging within.   Tomorrow morning, it will be waged where it should be.   I smiled and swallowed.

---

The sound of waves crashing on the shore mellowly brought me out of my peaceful slumber.  My eyes, still blurry, could make out the beams of sunlight pouring through the window.  The faint outline of palm trees swayed in the gentle breeze, the same air current passing through the open patio door, causing the white curtains to flutter.  The unmistakable smell of the ocean permeated the air.
  
For a moment I laid on my side, peacefully warm and comfortable in the soft satin sheets that wrapped my body.  I could feel the softness of the silky sheets tingling my naked flesh.  I wondered momentarily where I was, but the relaxed feeling was so strong I just didn't care. I felt wonderful, like a whole new person.
  
My eyes cleared, allowing me to see more detail.  Beyond the balcony, a crystal clear blue ocean stretched into eternity, beginning at a sandy beach as white as a snow covered mountain top.  It was paradise, I thought to myself as I began recalling the event the night before.  Rutherford, my encounter with Rutherford.   He said I would awake on my honeymoon, and so far, my setting proved I wasn't dreaming.
  
I panned around the room, high heeled sandals and my loafers were lying at the foot of the bed, with a blue Hawaiian dress with pink hibiscus flowers and a matching shirt and beige khaki shorts forming a trail toward the door.  An empty champagne bottle with a pair of hot pink panties draped around the neck sat tilted in a bucket dripping with condensation, resting on the nightstand next to two empty crystal flutes.  I smiled, thinking of the wild night we had together.  It worked, I thought, and another body shifted in the bed.  A bright blue bra perfectly matching the blue of the dress while complimenting the pink panties sailed over my head and landed on the ground.  Before I could react, a gentle hand caressed my waist before resting on my hip.  A pair of lips pecked the back of my neck, sending a chill up my spine.
  
Just as I was about to speak, a yawn surfaced.   When I lifted my hand to cover my mouth, the blurry silvery image of my wedding band sparkling in the morning light caught my attention.   I squinted several times to clear the morning dryness before examining my finger.   My heart pounded as I stared at the diamond nested in the platinum engagement ring that was just outside a matching diamond studded wedding band on my finger.

"Good morning Mrs. Adams," a male voice said behind me.  He lifted his hand and took hold of my wrist, gently twisting it.  "Just say the word my love, and I can get you the bigger diamond."
  
Shocked, I turned to find myself face to face with an all too familiar face, one I had seen many times in a mirror, but now I wasn't looking in a mirror.   I stared while a look of confusion stared back.  

"What's the matter my love?"

"Nothing, I didn't expect this."

"Didn't expect what?  This is how we will be waking up for the rest of our lives."

What happened, I thought to myself.  Everything worked perfectly, only I was staring at Stephen.  His hand gently reached out, pushing a lock of hair away before reaching down and softly caressing my face.  An unsettling feeling came over me.  This wasn't right.  This wasn't supposed to be.  I was supposed to be staring at Heather, not the other way around.
  
With a timid curiosity, I reached up, slowly feeling the contours of my abdomen before my fingers tripped on my lower rib.  My skin was silky smooth without a single imperfection.  I traveled higher, only to come to a sudden stop.   As I reached up to feel what I knew I would find, Stephen smiled and pushed my hand away.

"Allow me," he said, softly cupping my breast.  He leaned forward gently, dragging his fingertips in circles around my nipple, drawing ever closer each time.  I never realized just how amazingly handsome I looked until this morning.  The man gazing into my eyes held me in a trance, my body paralyzed from his magical blue eyes casting his control over me.  I wanted to scream from the chaos, but this was anything but chaotic. For some reason I enjoyed it, feeling only slight discomfort being held by a man, loved by a man.

As he leaned over to kiss me, I arched my head back, offering my lips, waiting for his passionate kiss.  The speckled roughness of his day old beard tickled my chin as his lips touched mine.  Gently at first, then harder, with more passion.  His breathing increased.  I was helpless, unable to resist as his tongue reached in and began exploring, searching for my tongue.
  
His circling fingers came together, lightly touching my nipple, sending tingling sensations to my brain.   It was a heavenly feeling, one I had tried to hard to imagine while trapped in that male body.   At first, it was similar to having my male nipples tickled, but soon the feelings, coupled with the kissing and frequent pauses to whisper messages into my ear, began to increase, traveling lower.
  
I felt my lower body tighten and contract from the excitement.  Suddenly, I became aware of what was happening.   Free from the trance, I withdrew and lifted his hand off my breast.

"What's the matter Babe?"
  
"Wait.   I'm not sure what happened, but--"
  
"--But what?  What do you mean what happened?"

"You know, last night, with Rutherford?"

"Oh, Rutherford.   Yes, that reminds me, there's a card from him that arrived with our breakfast."   Stephen slipped out of bed, stark naked, and strolled to the table on the other side of the room. I covered up, watching as he retrieved the card and grabbed a bowl of mixed berries.  As he turned, I looked down, pretending to examine my ring, avoiding looking at his naked body.
  
He slipped under the sheets, and placed the bowl between us.   He lifted a fresh raspberry and placed it in my mouth with finesse.   I sucked on the berry, letting it break apart in my mouth before lifting the card to my face.   It was a fancy gold envelope with handwriting unlike I had ever seen in person.  To my surprise, it was only addressed to Mrs. Heather Adams.

"Who's Rutherford?"

I rolled onto my back, resting my head on the silky pillow, holding the card above my head.   The red wax seal with the imprint of an "R" gave way to the pull of my finger.

"Stop," I said, surprisingly in a soft polite tone, as Stephen began caressing my breast while I fought to open the card.   Inside was more exquisite handwriting.
  
Dear Mrs. Adams,
  
On behalf of all of us, I extend to you a most sincere congratulations on your new life, one you have longed for since you were a little girl.  As with any major change, a period of adjustment will be required, but you will soon find it to be easy, and soon the false life you created will vanish, leaving behind the woman you were meant to be.  Enjoy being you, free at last from the bonds that held you, transformed into the fullness of His purpose with your husband at your side.
  
Most sincerely and respectfully,
  
Rutherford

"Well, what did it say?"

I popped a berry into my mouth before setting the bowl next to the dripping wet ice bucket with my panties hanging from the bottle.  I rolled around and pushed myself up, hovering over Stephen's face.  He simply smiled and interlocked his fingers under his head as he laid on his back looking up at me.  My long, blonde hair collected as I leaned closer to his mouth.
  
Finally, I was free, and the false creation I conjured in my mind to protect me from those who wouldn't understand was now realized, and made alive before me.  His body was familiar, but he was a new creation, created by Him to fill the emptiness I left behind as I was delivered from my prison.

"Quiet and don't talk," I mumbled, moments before placing half the raspberry onto his tongue with my own.  We passionately kissed for an eternity before I withdrew, desperate to please his body in ways only I knew how.