Chapter 32 - A New Steve Emerges

It felt like his head was spinning and he had to put his hands on the car when he thought that he might faint. His thoughts were going 100 miles an hour and he tried shaking his head to clear it.

Steve and his analytical brain just couldn't figure out what was happening.

“I’m a guy, dammit! A kiss from another man shouldn’t affect me that way. After all, I’ve been around Fred before dressed as a woman and I even kissed him, even though I was just joking around. This time, Fred kissed me; it may have started as way to prank me back but ended up being something far more than a joke. For some reason, I kissed back. Something is wrong.’

With little fanfare, Phyllis simply opened his door for him and moved around to the driver's side. He was still googly-eyed, weak kneed, and flushed over the kiss and he stood holding the door, unstable on his feet. She finally yelled at him, "Get in the car, you’re embarrassing yourself." So it was with some effort he wriggled into his seat, butt first then he had to pull his belly and legs in.

Phyllis wouldn't start the car until his seatbelt was firmly secured around his rotund body. She loved the way the belt burrowed between his ponderous breasts and she watched Steve spend several seconds trying to get comfortable. Just as Phyllis started the engine, the toy baby in his fake belly moved. It was a surreal experience, one Steve found not all that unpleasant. Phyllis drove out of the parking lot, neither of them speaking for the longest time. Steve was still trying to get his heart beat and respiration under control, the simple act of climbing in the car had been physically taxing.

Phyllis kept her eyes locked on the traffic before them. Her smug expression at how she was embarrassing her husband had evaporated with the shock of the passion play she had witnessed. She was wondering if she had pushed her husband too far into femininity. She had only wanted to teach him a lesson, not lose him. Could he be at the tipping point and about to dive headfirst into the pool of estrogen? She decided to attack and see how he reacted and take things from there. She finally broke the silence.

"Young LADY, would you care to explain what you were doing tongue wresting with Fred?" With a heavy emphasis on the word lady.

A flustered Steve replied, "I'm sorry Phyllis, I can't explain it. It seemed like a good idea at the time. He kissed me with such passion. It was a natural reflex to respond in kind."

With a sigh he went on, "Remember when we used to kiss like that? I had forgotten how intimate it felt. I don't know what came over me."

Phyllis knew it was in all likelihood the multiple doses of Xanax that Rose had been feeding the boys, but she wasn't about to rat out her new friend. She was going to let Steve stew in his own juices on that one.

The faux baby moved again and seemed to be pushing on his bladder so Steve suddenly had an unrelenting need to urinate. "Please can we stop? I have to pee. We can discuss this afterwards."

Phyllis looked for and found the grungiest gas station on the highway and pulled in to the far corner of the lot. When Steve gave her a questioning look she responded, "I don't want to block access to the pumps.” Seeing that he was still functioning as her husband, she was going to continue her program of re-education.

Steve let himself out with a real sense of urgency. He tried to run but instantly found running wearing an elephantine body suit was a mistake. He had to use both hands to hold his rotund belly. So as best he could he shuffled to the ladies room only to find it locked. Phyllis smiled and pointed to the office. Steve made his way to the door and demanded the key from a pimpled faced boy in greasy overalls who was probably still in high school. The kid took his time finding the key that was attached to a phallic-shaped piece of wood. With a grin, he handed it to Steve with a warning, "We need that back."

Steve disappeared into the restroom, firmly locking the door behind him. Phyllis took pity on him and moved the car to save him the long walk, so when he came out it was right there.

He returned and wrestled his way back into his seat. His only comment was, "That was disgusting. I had to line the seat with paper towels, there was no way I was going to touch that stool. I feel like I need to be decontaminated."

Phyllis kept quiet and thought 'He may be learning something here. It will do him good.'

Phyllis could have parked on the street and made Desiree expose himself to the entire neighborhood, but took pity on him and pulled into the driveway. He struggled to get out and headed for the front door; Phyllis remained seated, and honked the car horn. Phyllis called him back to the car. Leaning in he asked, “What is it now?”

“I’m not your servant. You forgot your packages with your pretty bras.” With an exaggerated sigh, he reached into the back seat for the bag with his nursing bras. He angrily made his way to the front door, only to find his door keys were in his purse which was still in the car. He marched back to the car to grab his purse, Phyllis hadn’t moved and sat there with a smug look on her face and followed him up the walk to the door.

Just inside their front door, he stopped and demanded that Phyllis loosen the straps on the suit. She did so, which took a lot of the pressure of his internal organs but the suit wouldn't come off his chest. He tried to pull and immediately screamed in pain. Phyllis took pity on him and said, "Stay right where you are I'll get the fingernail polish remover."

"Damn it woman! I don't care about my nails this thing has a death grip on my nipples."

Phyllis was unwilling to admit her culpability in gluing the body suit on to him, so she replied, "That's just the suit’s self-adhering properties. The store said if there was a problem to use isopropyl alcohol. I could run to the hardware store and get some or you can let me use fingernail polish remover."

It took 25 minutes to free Steve and his boobs were red and supersensitive when they finally saw the light of day again. He headed for the shower.

Thirty minutes in the shower did nothing to tame his chia pet hairdo or sooth the tenderness in his chest. He came out of the bathroom with the towel around his waist. Phyllis started to instruct him in proper feminine bath towel etiquette, but decided that now was not the best time. She walked up behind him and as she pulled the towel off his waist said "Let me dry your back."

She did just that and then reached around and to gently begin stroking his manhood. After several minutes, nothing was happening so she moved around to the front and took him in her mouth. After some serious sucking, it swelled slightly; it was more of a limp noodle than the firm ramrod she was familiar with. His thing was never a massive redwood, more like a chiseled twig. But it was her twig and it was proficient at its intended purpose. Phyllis felt real remorse that there was no way this droopy thing could be used for penetration.

Steve pushed her away embarrassed at his lack of ability to respond. He immediately became apologetic, "I don't know what is happening to me. I bet it's those damn hormones you gave me."

It was a combination of frustration and annoyance at his accusation that made her lash back at him. "That's it you asshole! You can't perform like a man so you blame me."

"Maybe you just prefer men, like Fred. You and Fred really seemed to hit it off. There was definitely a sexual chemistry between you two. I bet if he was on his knees sucking your little baby maker, you could get it up. Shall I call him to come over?

Steve was beside himself with his own frustration and embarrassment. "Damn it Phyllis I am not attracted to Fred. I was just acting."

Her voice, tickling with laughter, replied, "Ha! If that was just an act, you deserve an Academy Award. If you would rather catch than pitch I will understand."

Steve, in a fit of anger, drew his hand back as if to strike Phyllis. She merely glared at him as if daring him. He quickly regained his composure and slowly lowered his hand to his side. Phyllis mockingly laughed at him. "What's the matter Desiree? Are you not even man enough to discipline your sassy wife?"

That stung!

"Damn it Phyllis, you know I'd never hit you!"

Phyllis wrapped her fingers around his ball sack and looked Steve in the face, "I know you better not! The consequences for you my prissy sissy would be disastrous. You would be singing soprano for the rest of your life."

Steve stood in the middle of the room trembling. Phyllis asked tauntingly, “What are you frightened of? Standing there shaking like a small child? Afraid your wife will turn you over her knee and smite your plump behind?"

"Phyllis, please stop tormenting me, haven't I been through enough today? Can't you see I'm a man and your husband?"

For six years she had put up with his macho ways and bombastic attitude and unapologetically sexist attitude of, 'a woman's place is in the kitchen or on her back in the bedroom pleasing her husband.' Now was her chance at payback and she was going to write the check.

With an evil smirk, Phyllis replied, "From where I am standing you don't look much like a man. I sure don't see my husband. The person before me has a cock that resembles his but now it's more like a chubby worm than my husband’s ramrod.

“I see a man wearing makeup, with curly blonde hair, painted nails and the start of a first class set of boobs and has spent the day wearing high heels and panties. By what definition would you call that person a man? At best, a hermaphrodite, at worst a gay faggot on hormones trying to pass as a woman.

"So what is it Desiree? Are you a man who can't get it up for his wife? A freak of nature who is half man and half woman, or just a late blooming homosexual?”

Phyllis’ words hurt, a lot. Steve was caught between the beginning of an emotional breakdown and an angry outburst that would destroy their lives.

"For Pete's sake stop calling me Desiree! And for the last time, I am not gay!"

"Alright. Perhaps just a limp wristed sissy who doesn't find woman sexually attractive?"

Her comments hit him like a freight train, he actually staggered back, shaking with anger and now wept openly. Phyllis thought to herself, 'It's a good thing his makeup is waterproof otherwise he would have raccoon eyes. Maybe I have pushed him too far.' Then the solution came to her like a bolt from the sky.

"Relax honey, I love you and we can work through your repressed gender dysphoria."

His knees went weak from embarrassment, through chattering teeth he replied, "It's nothing like that. I'm just cold. I need my clothes." Phyllis pointed to his empathy suit lying on the floor. "You want to put that back on?" She inquired.

"No, I just need a robe."

"You mean that old ratty white cotton thing. I threw it away. Phyllis reached into the dresser she retrieved a silk pink teddy. She handed it to Steve. "Wear this, it will keep you warm."

"Phyllis, I don't want to wear that. It’s too girlie. I don't know what is happening and I am really scared. I am not a gay faggot, I swear it to you. Can we try one more time to get my manhood up? I know it will respond this time"

A smile curled the edges of her mouth with a touch of condescension she said, "Actions speak louder than words."

Steve reached down and started to play with himself to see if he could get it up. But despite his best efforts, he got no response.

Phyllis took pity on him and said, "Now don't be silly, you are freezing, put this on so you don't catch cold. I bet your 'little' problem is just stress.” She reached up to his face and wiped the tears away with her fingers. “Don't cry dear, lots of men, even gay ones, have erectile dysfunction.

“You stay here. I'll fix you a drink to help you relax."

Phyllis rushed to the kitchen and went to the cabinet where she hid the Viagra just for times like these. Steve never took them, knowingly. She had taken to feeding them to him after his first couple of climaxes and she enjoyed the results…every time.

She returned 10 minutes later with a doctored gin and tonic (actually it was all tonic water). Steve downed it in several quick gulps. The taste of the tonic water was stronger than normal, but he began to feel more like his old self, his emotional trauma was now under control. He slumped languidly back onto the bed on his back; the hem of his short teddy coming to rest at crotch level. Phyllis stared at him with lust in her heart. She couldn’t help seeing that, unlike his penis, his pink nipples had no problem becoming erect. They stuck up obscenely and were clearly visible through his translucent nightie. The dichotomy of his limp manhood lying between his spread legs and his budding breasts and nipples standing tall produced a pep rally in her shorts. She had always had bi tendencies, now her husband stood on the brink of fulfilling some of her wildest fantasies.

Phyllis took a few minutes to regain her composure and to give her husband a chance to relax, letting the drugs take effect. After Steve had calmed down, she stood at the foot of the bed and started playing some music from her phone. Once she had his attention, she gave her husband the treat of a striptease, trying to get a rise out of him. Once she was completely naked, she climbed up on the bed in a coquettish manner and lay on top of her husband, her breasts resting against his. She started nibbling on his neck while her hand reached between them using her nipples to tease his sensitive nubs. She was rewarded with a sigh of pleasure, so she moved up and planted her nipple in his mouth while she reached around behind her and wrapped the silk nightgown around his semi-limp member and slowly pumped it with a light touch. She played him like a computer joy stick. He began to respond as she wanted and, in no time at all, Steve was as large and firm as he ever got. Phyllis took full advantage of it. In fact, she took advantage several times.

It was still dark and the middle of the night when Steve woke up feeling great. Phyllis lay next to him, her hand cupping his right boob. Despite the pleasure emanating from his manly chest he felt like a male for the first time since Rose had worked her maniac revenge on him.

In an effort to get him going again, Phyllis started to tweak his newest erogenous zone, his sensitive nipple. It seemed to trigger a radically opposite reaction than expected. Instead of a source of pleasure, Steve became angry. "Damn it woman, I'm a man. Stop that.” He pushed her hand away and his long manicured nails flashed into view. The dichotomy of his masculine feelings and his feminine appearance made him feel foolish, so he did the only thing he could.

Like a petulant child, he stormed off to the spare bedroom, his nightie flowing in his wake. He hoped to avoid his wife for a while, but unfortunately for him, she couldn't sleep and got up early to make coffee. She grabbed her cell phone and headed to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. The door to the spare bedroom was partially open and she slowly pushed it open to see her husband asleep atop of the covers.

He was the definition of sexy. From his hairless legs with their pink toenails gleaming like a beacon to his bleached blonde hair. It was impossible to miss his firm breasts pushing out from his chest and his face was still perfectly made-up.

She moved over to the bed and sat on the edge trying to decide what to do. The movement of the bed woke Steve; opening his eyes to see his wife staring at him. As he tried to sit up, she playfully yet firmly placed her hand on his boobs and pushed him back down. The nipples were still tender from the previous day's activities and he flinched, rolling away from his wife in total humiliation.

Phyllis suddenly felt guilty and cuddled up against her husband's back. Phyllis reached around him and gently covered one of his breasts in her hand. “Honey, it’s alright having breasts and it’s nothing to be ashamed of. In fact, I find them to be a real turn-on."

He angrily pushed her hand away and said, “Just leave me alone! You had your fun yesterday. I guess I showed you I am still a man. I have never come more abundantly. I bet you are still full of my seed."

No one likes being rejected and Phyllis was no different. Adrenalin surged and she slapped Steve rather firmly on his bare bottom which resounded like a gun shot. Before he could react, she forced her husband onto his back and hopped onto the mattress. Kneeling on him, Steve was pinned rather firmly to the bed. She started to play with his sensitive chest.

Startled at his wife’s aggressiveness, Steve was confused and a little embarrassed. Hyperventilating, he tried to struggle and yelled at her to stop and get off him. With an indigent tone, he roared, "I thought I showed you! Damn it woman I’m still a man. You got off more than once from my friend. That should end any discussion about me not being able to get it up."

She scooted up and had her knees pinning his arms to the bed. She matched his indignity with a smidgeon of condescension. "So you think you have rediscovered your masculinity and are ready to regain your throne as King of the house. I have news for you. From where I am perched, looking down at your plump pink lips and lovely eyes with their long lashes, you are better suited to be the Queen around here. Let’s face it The King is dead long live Queen Desiree. Your days as a viral man are over. I will never look at you the same way. I thought I had married a real man, not knowing you had this girlie side. You arrogant SOB, getting it up had nothing to do with your masculinity. I provided you with some pharmaceutical help; you know the little blue pill everyone talks about. That is why you were able to get your worm up.

Steve was shocked, “That’s not mine. Where did you get Viagra?”

She ignored his question as her attention was drawn to his chest; from her perspective it appeared as if he had grown overnight. "Steve, something is going on, it looks like your boobs have ripened since yesterday."

She continued, “Be a good lesbian, forget for the minute that you think you are my husband and put all that cunnilingus training to use. My fondness for oral sex is now firmly established. In fact, it is now my preferred sexual practice. The past week you have become a first class pussy licker. You have spent more time at my muffin than at the dinner table. NOW eat me out until I am clean."

"It will be a cold day in hell before I eat my own spunk!"

Phyllis laughed and said "Well honey it’s your lucky day; a Polar-Vortex just hit the netherworld. Bon appétit. You are not getting up until I am as clean as a whistle.” To end the discussion Phyllis moved further up and pressed her choking wetness firmly against his mouth to cut off any argument from him. "You are right about one thing I am still leaking your seed.” She reached down and pinched his nose closed as an additional motivator.

“Now get to work!"

She kept his arms pinned with her knees and pressed her sex firmly on his lips. She rode his face like she was on a bucking bronco. In the throes of passion, she flopped about like a fish out of water, which gave Steve a chance to catch a quick lungful of air every now and then. To keep from being suffocated, he complied with her demands, figuring as soon as he was finished she would release him. The taste wasn't as bad as he feared so eventually he got into his task with great enthusiasm.

Halfway to her first orgasm, the cell phone on the bedside table rang. It kept ringing without going to voicemail and was becoming annoying. Without letting the pressure off his face, she reached over and picked it up. She saw it was from Steve’s boss, Mr. Hampton. After she answered it, Bob explained Steve wouldn’t answer his phone so he was forced to try hers. Bob demanded that he speak to Steve. Steve kept working his magic tongue over her clit and she could feel her orgasm building, so Phyllis gasped out that he was preoccupied up at the moment and she would take a message.

She managed to end the call before the electric pleasure flashed from her slick pussy through the rest of her body. She finally deigned to show her husband some mercy and rolled off his face. She looked at him where he lay working to regain his breath.

“Thanks baby, that was over the top fantastic. It looks like I have found what every woman secretly wants."

"What's that?" he asked.

"A lesbian househusband", she jokingly replied. “Now get up and get yourself cleaned up.”

Steve was mortified at being overpowered by a mere woman, fearful at what she might do next he meekly replied, “You want me to play the occasional lesbian that’s okay by me. But I want to play husband and wife occasionally.”

Phyllis smiled at her husband and said “Sure, I’ll flip you to see who gets to be the wife first. You want heads or tails?”

She left him to get cleaned, up grabbing a clean pair of panties and a bra for herself.

Once Steve was finished in the bathroom, he found Phyllis in the kitchen sipping a cup of coffee.

Looking over the rim of her cup she said, "Your boss called while we were busy and was pretty upset you wouldn’t come to the phone. He has heard a disturbing rumor about your agent and demands a meeting with you today. What is he talking about?"

Steve thought on it and decided to open up to his wife. "It's nothing; at least I’m hoping that it is. We’ve lost contact with Jack. He has just disappeared. He went aboard Ivan’s yacht for a party and the boat and Daisy seems to have vanished. There was no way I could tell that to Rose." Steve’s brow furrowed as he went on "I’m afraid that Jack might end up as fish food.

"All this feminine undercover work is starting to get to me. I’ve never concerned myself before over the health of an agent before. He was supposed to be expendable after all."

"Getting to you how? Do you just like wearing female clothes it or has it opened a secret trap door in your psyche? Do you want to become a woman?"

"No! I am a man and plan on staying that way! It is just my emotions are coming to the surface like never before."

Phyllis knew that she had pushed her husband as far as she could and that it was time to be supportive instead. She put everything she had into trying to make him forget how she had been teasing him for the past day.

"Steve, calm down. I was just asking. Man, woman or she-male is fine with me. I will still love you regardless. Not only is you’re statuesque physique becoming more feminine by the day but it seems so is your psyche. Maybe the universe is taking a hand and freeing your alter ego. We’re friends’ first and sexual partners second. To be completely honest with you, I think sex has gotten in the way of our friendship. I would like to awaken our relationship as two friends. I have always wanted: a best girlfriend, perhaps we could try that and see where it leads us."

Steve knew that it would be fatal to admit his liaisons with Trixie, so he played it dumb. "I can't explain what is happening to me. My emotions are all over the place, I can't concentrate and it looks like I am growing a set of first-class tits. They’re driving me crazy, the nipples itch all the time and they are extremely sensitive to the touch. And worst of all, they have reached the point where they are quite obvious."

He stopped as his physical situation finally sank in and his face reflected all of his fear and uncertainty. "How am I going to meet my boss with this face and my tits showing?"

Phyllis looked thoughtful for a moment and said, "I can help if you'll let me."

A bewildered Steve readily agreed to let her try. What other options did he have?

Phyllis dug through her dresser and returned with a beige sports bra to help minimize his shape while providing support. “You can wear a loose fitting shirt and a ball cap pulled down low over your face. We can take the polish off your nails, but the acrylic extensions can’t be removed. Just keep your hands in your pockets."

"Thanks. I can't explain how humiliating it is looking like a silly ass girl."

Tongue in cheek Phyllis assured her husband, "I can only imagine how hard this is on a manly man like you. I'll do whatever I can to help."

Steve got dressed in the sports bra and his boy clothes and stood in front of the mirror. He was astonished at what he saw. The reflection was not of a man but of a sissy. There was a strong hint of boob and even his plump tush stood out in his largest slacks, the ball cap hid most of his curls but did nothing to keep his pink lips or blue eyeshadow under wraps. The thought occurred to him that he might get away with it if they were to meet in the middle of a gay pride parade.

Phyllis walked into the room and saw her husband posing in front of the full length mirror. She put her hand over her mouth to ineffectively stifle the giggle that still managed to escape.

Steve turned to face her, with his arms crossed over his chest, just under his boobs. Unfortunately, his pose only served to accentuate them. "Tell me the truth Phyllis. What do you think?"

Phyllis smiled gently at her husband. "I don’t think you can handle the truth!"

Steve didn’t respond so she went on, "I am not trying to hurt your feelings but looking at you the first thing that pops into my head is sissy milk toast. You could call that a disguise and get away with it, if the meeting were held in a dark alley."

Steve’s face exploded into shade of scarlet that Phyllis had never seen before. "I assume that Bob wants to meet in his office, I’ll sneak in through the garage entrance."

She shook her head. "Sorry no dear, he was concerned the office was being monitored. So he decided to meet at his favorite bar. During happy hour, if I remember correctly. That gives us time to get you ready.” She held her hand up to forestall Steve’s expected objection. “That location will actually work in your favor. Your boss will be the only one to recognize you and you will be able to blend in with the crowd."

"What bar is it?" Steve asked.

Phyllis thought for a second, she had been a bit distracted during the conversation, "Oh I remember now, it is the Iron Horse Watering Hole."

Steve’s legs turned to jelly, his face lost all its color and turned ashen gray. He collapsed to the floor.

Phyllis rushed to him asking, "What’s wrong dear?"

"The Iron Horse is a biker bar. If I walk in looking like a sissy it will be signing my death warrant."

Phyllis gave the problem some serious thought. "I can help you. Because of the situation, we are going to have to take drastic actions. If you’ll trust me. But I don’t want any back talk or resistance. If my idea is going to work we have to go all in."

Phyllis left the room to make her husband a cup of tea which she spiked with a double dose of Thorazine. Her physician’s assistant friend Betty had given it to her and she had kept it hidden on the back shelf of the refrigerator. Betty told her that the women’s clinic would never miss one bottle. She bragged it was really a wonder remedy for woman on the verge of a mental breakdown; because it is the closest thing to a mind control drug on the market. She promised that if she gave some to a patient; they would do whatever was suggested and not be able to resist. The devious part is that they would remember what they did but not why. In this case, Phyllis wasn’t looking to really humiliate him, but just get him to relax so that he could get through this. Although his post traumatic humiliation would be a bonus, after all pay back is a bitch!

While she was out of the room, Steve saw that the drawer of the bedside nightstands was partially open. He found the bottle of female hormones, but it was now half empty. He thought, ‘No way. She wouldn’t do that to me.’ He brushed the idea into the waste bin of his mind as he closed the drawer.

Phyllis ran her husband a quick bath and filled the tub with warm water and perfumed bath salts. She brought her husband the doctored herbal tea, telling him it would help to calm him down. He held the warm cup with both hands and looked off into space as if lost in thought. He suspected mischief but tasted the hot beverage anyway. He sipped the tea and slowly lowered himself into the warm bath, careful not to spill it. It didn’t take long before Steve was totally relaxed, almost comatose.

Soaking in the hot soapy water, he put down the now empty cup and ran his hands over his completely hairless body under the oily bath water and thought how silky smooth it felt. A few hours earlier he had been almost out of control with anger at his wife. Now the vengeful urge no longer had a firm footing. He slid lower into the water so just his nose and mouth were above the waterline. He must have dozed off for a second as he got soap suds up his nose. He woke with a start his eyes flew open.

He found himself looking at his pink colored toes gleaming like 10 beacons at the end of the tub. His view was distracted as he watched his breasts bobbing in the water his nipples perched atop his girly assets and were fully erect. He reached up and rubbed his fingers covered in the bath oil over the nipples. The sensation was almost orgasmic. Only the sound of Phyllis moving around in the bedroom kept him from continuing.

Steve forced his hands down to his sides. He raised his bottom slightly and let it back down making small waves that washed over his tits. It was a fun game that he kept at until Phyllis yelled at him to get out and get dressed. He got to the door and yelled into the other room. "Okay break the bad news to me, what am I wearing?"

Phyllis, in a festive mood, replied, "Don’t worry dear, I have everything under control. Trust me. Everything is laid out on the bed. Come see."

Steve dried himself off, dropped the towel on the floor, and stepped into the bedroom. What he saw brought him up short. He stood in the doorway, shoulders slumped with his arms folded across his chest, his eyes the size of saucers. Phyllis sat on the brown carpet next to the bed, her legs tucked under her in the lotus position. Seeing her husband's reaction, she raised her left eyebrow and smiled devilishly. Then said in a sweet syrupy voice, "What's the matter honey? You don't like my selection of lingerie for Desiree's début?"

On the bed was a smorgasbord of fine feminine assorted delicates. Phyllis pointed to the bed. "I did some quick internet research on that bar while you were in the tub. If you go in there as a convincing man, you might survive. Bikers don’t normally take to outsiders, so even if you could pull off the man thing you would be in great danger, the sissy thing will get you gang raped and probably killed. There is no way you can hide your permeant make up and curly blond hair.

"If you can't hide it; girlfriend, the only other option is to flaunt it. We'll go in the other direction. We will make you into a first class 'Tart'. The bar is known to be a hangout for working girls. We just need you to blend in with that crowd." She wiggled her finger and in a commanding tone ordered "come here." Pointing to the bed she said "Well what do you think?"

Steve narrowed his eyes to slits as he glared at Phyllis but said nothing. His throat was dry; he chewed on his lower lip unsure how to react. "Can't I wear something manlier or at least less feminine?"

Phyllis gave demonic laugh, "Oh pshaw! Let's face it dear right now you are technically a guy but not much of a man. When you let Rose give you the makeover, you forfeited your man card. Your days as a viral man are temporary on hold."

She understood his reluctance and she was prepared for it. His resistance had started out strong, but was crumbling. It just needed some more help. She handed him his second cup of drugged tea. Then in a firm voice that left no room for discussion she said, "Drink this now! This is what you are wearing. Put your underwear on. We haven't got all day."

His blush deepened, with trepidation he picked up an elastic thong. "Why" was his only comment?

"Silly, no girl wants a VPL."

"A what?"

"A visible panty line. Insert your marbles into their man cave. It is strong enough to hold them there and your baby maker will stay firmly nestled between your legs. Getting your boy parts out of the way will also have the added advantage of allowing you to cross your legs in a feminine manner."

Once things were in their proper place, he stood up and put his feet together. He pulled the thong up tight and felt it wedge between his ass checks. Looking down he was amazed, he saw only his long hairless legs and a very feminine bump in front.

Next was a satin underwire bra with pretty white lace around the lavender cups. Fastening it in place and adjusting his tits gave Steve a rather ordinary silhouette. Phyllis jumped up and seemingly out of nowhere produced two silicon pads (breast enhancers she called them.) Slipping them into his bra and under his fleshy mounds created a significant difference. Phyllis stood back and examined her husband and said, "Now you have a first class set of pompoms. I am almost getting boob envy. Put the waist cincher on next."

Steve looked at her with pleading eyes, "Now wait a minute. Why do I need that 18th Century torture devise?"

She impaled him with her glare, not bothering to hide her disdain. In a firm voice that left no room for debate, she said, "You'll wear it because I say so. It will flatten your tummy, take a good four inches off your waist, and correct your posture. Now put it on; I'll tighten it for you."

For some reason, Steve had an overwhelming need to grovel. He apologized like a penitent child.

"Yes dear, whatever you say, sorry I said anything."

Phyllis wrapped the garment around him and had him hook up the front. She stood behind him and went to work on the laces. As she tightened it, he pleaded with her to stop.

"Sniveling is not going to get you out of this. Now suck in your tummy, I am not stopping until the sides have come fully together."

He started to gasp for air, which only amused Phyllis. "Think short term pain for long term gain. This is doing wonders for your figure."

Once tightened as much as it would go. She stood back to examine her handiwork and said, "Well dear what do you think?"

A sheepish grin was all he could muster. He had to admit that the discomfort that he had just endured might actually be worth it, he certainly had the figure of a woman.

"Before we put your dress on sit at the vanity, I want to enhance your makeup. It's a good thing we never removed your nail polish, it will save us time."

He sat ramrod straight on the stool, the corset preventing him from slouching even a little bit. Phyllis went to work on his eyes first as she applied heavy black eyeliner over and under his thick lashes. She admired her work and said, "A little liner makes a world of difference. Don't you agree?"

Steve didn't see it that way at all. "A little liner my ass! I look like Elisabeth Taylor on the set of Cleopatra."

Phyllis snorted at his remark and went to work on his eyeshadow. With dark grays and blacks she gave him a sultry smoky eye look. Next were several coats of cotton candy pink lip gloss. Finally satisfied, she stood and spun Steve around. She heavily sprayed him with perfume. As the perfume settled over him like a soft blanket, he felt foolish and humiliated.

His reaction was totally missed by Phyllis as she nodded in satisfaction. "Now you are looking like a real party girl. Let's finish getting you dressed, wait here."

She retreated to the bedroom and returned with a pair of black fishnet stockings. Since Steve was unable to bend over, she slid them up his legs and fastened them to the waist cincher straps. She helped Steve to his feet. He turned his head to see what he looked like. With sullen acquiescence, he foolishly said, "At least they don’t have seams."

She smiled with false sincerity and said in a jovial tone, "Of course not. That would be gilding the lily."

Next was his dress. She got a dress off a hanger behind the door and held it open for him to step into. It was a mid-sleeve scandalously short pink chiffon dress with a halter top. It had a plunging lace covered neckline that plainly showed his growing cleavage and if you looked closely the perky nipples where apparent through the fabric. It laced up the back and pulled the dress tight in all the right places. If he stood still it just barely covered his garter tabs.

Pulling him to the mirror she nestled next to him and cooed in his ear, "Look you have gone from Steve, a dowdy government agent, to Desiree, a raving beauty." He stood there wearing a magazine-cover girl smile, flapping his eyelashes like butterfly wings, and admired himself. He was speechless.

Phyllis intently studied his reaction and thought, 'This day has the promise of delight and has auspicious possibilities. This entire exercise is intended to teach Steve everyone has a feminine side and a masculine side. The balance of male and female makes us whole. Neither is more or less important than the other - they simply offer us different and very necessary parts of our being. He’s become jaded over the course of our marriage. If a man is seen as sensitive and introspective, he is laughed at and labeled a wimp. Therefore, for a man, often it becomes dangerous to show feelings or let others in, as there is a great fear of ridicule and rejection. I want the compassionate, understanding man I married. I only have a few days to teach him being soft and empathetic is not a negative thing.'

"So you like it?" said Phyllis a rhetorical question because she could read the answer written all over his face.

He turned away from the mirror long enough to say, "Phyllis, you are a magician, a real illusionist. Under all this makeup and padding no one will recognize me. I’d kiss you but don't want to mess up my makeup."

"No worries sweetie pie, there will be plenty of time for that latter."

Phyllis then said in a firm voice that left no room for discussion, "Give me a twirl."

Steve did the best pirouette he could. The skirt flared out just enough to reveal he was wearing a thong. Steve was shocked that he actual loved the airy feeling. He ended up looking at himself in the mirror. Phyllis clapped in glee and let out a low wolf whistle and said "Oh my gracious – très sexy. You are going to attract oodles of attention."

Steve ignored his wife's mocking statement and stared at his reflection with a sense of disbelief. As a trained observer, he had been taught to look for things that seemed out of place. In this case, what he beheld wasn't the most beautiful woman he had ever seen and by no means a beautiful one; but a realistic looking woman, not the parody of girlyness he anticipated. He was lost in thought; he was neither fish nor fowl. He was so confused. His physical alterations were debilitating to his masculine self-image. But the mental repercussions were much more insidious. He tried to keep his bottom lip from shaking as he thought, ‘My God if Phyllis can do this to me in a week. What has Linda done to poor Jack in all these months?’

"Come on my darling, just a few more embellishments and you will be complete."

She added several gold bangles to one wrist, a cute woman's watch with faux jewels on the other. She clipped two large hoop earrings to his lobes. Steve couldn't stand to look at himself; he focused on a spot on the wall rather than his reflection. Lastly, Phyllis forced four large gaudy crystal rings on his fingers.

Holding up his hands Steve whined, "You have to be kidding. It looks like you mugged a drag queen."

"Oh contraire my sweet, don't be such a smart-aleck. They are the perfect adornment for your outfit. You're going into a biker bar and you need to be accepted as a party girl instead of a 'good' girl."

She threw a satin and crystal clutch handbag to him saying, "Everything you will need is in there. Lipstick, a compact, comb, some perfume and a couple of condoms." He caught it with practiced ease and dropped it on the bed.

“What about money, and my phone?” He asked.

"Dear I can assure you, looking like you do the last thing you need to concern yourself with is paying for drinks. Besides I have my phone in case of an emergency, so we're covered. It's a quick meet and greet with your boss. Then we girls can party – it’s happy hour."

All he could do was meekly stare at floor and that is when he saw them. His anxiety levels hit a new high. With a pleading tenor to his voice he begged, "Please not the streetwalker stilts."

Phyllis smiled, working hard to look reassuring and to keep the devilishness out of her expression, as she picked up the stiletto heels.

"Sorry dear your outfit screams for 5 inch CFM heels. Now sit and let me get them on you, these ankle straps might be a problem with your long nails. Besides, that corset won't let you bend over to put them on yourself."

Steve was tongue-tied but eventually got out, "Phyllis you have to be kidding, aren't the silver bells on the ankle straps a little over the top?"

With a big Oprah smile she said. "I think the soft jingling sound is a priceless touch. Now suck it up buttercup.”

She helped him stand in the skyscraper heels. He wobbled as the pumps forced his feet into an unnatural position and the straps dug into his skin. His first few steps where tentative, a tad clumsy and even awkward. He reached for the dresser for support.

Phyllis openly mocked him, "Give me a break Desiree. You act like it is your first time in stilettos. I spent a small fortune sending Steve to that sadomasochist Linda. You came home from there able to imitate a sexy stripper stroll if I remember correctly."

Phyllis picked up her cell phone and showed it to her husband. "I have her number on speed dial. Do I need to call her and send you back for a refresher course? Oh, I forgot she is all tied up turning your agent Jack into a submissive she-male. Well maybe she can squeeze you in on the weekends."

Steve felt the chill of fear running through him like a river and pleaded, "No that's not necessary! Just give me a few minutes. I'm sure I can handle these 'modest' heels."

"Good girl, now show me what you got. I'll keep the phone handy just in case." Phyllis got dressed while Steve practiced.

Where Steve approached the appearance of a lady of the evening, Phyllis was every inch a professional woman. She wore a tailored brown jacket and matching knee length pleated skirt and modest heels. She looked like she had stepped out of a boardroom.

By his third lap around the bedroom, his muscle memory had kicked in and Steve was giving a good imitation of a runway walk, hips undulating wildly. Phyllis continued to coach.

“Desiree, keep your chest out, wrists limp and don’t forget to give everyone your coquettish cover girl smile."

"Please stop referring to me as Desiree."

"Why not? That is your name until I say otherwise. One other thing, I don’t like your tone of voice, when you speak to me I want to hear the deference in it. As a real woman, I am due that respect. Linda assured me you spoke fluent bimbo Valley Girl. For the rest of the day I want only to hear your soft soprano speaking voice."

Steve's heart was racing wildly, he wasn't sure if it was from fear or excitement. It was obvious Phyllis was in no mode to negotiate so he reached back into his memory banks and recalled the hours of vocal lessons Linda had put him through.

Steve totally shocked Phyllis when he turned to her and, in a velvety soft voice, said, "Chill dudette. I'm totally trippin' on you baby."

Phyllis was giddy over the fact her husband could joke at a time like this.

"Grab your purse and don't lose it. I put your badge and HLS ID in there in case you need them. We can go. I’ll drive." She swept past him and headed out the front door.

Steve tried to act nonchalant, but was putting his deodorant to a real test; the sweat ran between his shoulder blades he fought to get his respiration under control. He made angry fists and felt his long shiny pink nails dig into the palms of his hands. The pain helped him focus.

He followed Phyllis out into the daylight. She had parked the car in the driveway. She opened the passenger door and proceeded to her side. Steve found with the corset he couldn’t bend over and climb into the car. Holding his purse took away the use of one hand so he improvised he had put his legs up against the door jam and squatted. Once his rear was situated, he clumsily swung his legs into the car. In no way was it ladylike but he got in.

Steve settled into a funk on the way to the bar. The drugs were starting to wear off. His face took on a somber cast. Phyllis reached over and put her hand on her husband’s knee. "What's the matter sweetie pie? You act like you are on the way to the gallows. By the way you are really cute when you sulk. The pout is just adorable, the guys are going to love it."

Exasperated and at the end of his patience, Steve replied, "You have to believe me, I’m not a sissy and certainly not gay, I have no interest in men."

"I am disappointed in you Steve, you say that like there is something wrong with being gay. And who knows you might enjoy sex with a man. I know I do."

As they drove through the roughest part of town, Steve fought to keep his knees together and looked over at his wife and merely asked, "WHY?"

Phyllis was concentrating on driving and knew full well what her husband wanted to know, but she tried to buy time to frame her answer. "Why what dear?"

"Why are you turning your husband into an effeminate Nancy-boy?"

"The answer to that is complicated. It's been called lots of things, shock treatment, and petticoat punishment, among others. Betty calls it estrogen therapy. Remember all those times, when I got emotional and even irrational during my time of the month. You were fond of saying it was just hormonal. I, well actually we girls and I thought if you could experience a little of what I go though you would be more sympathetic, no more PMS jokes. It is a fact; heavy doses of estrogen effects a person's emotional as well physical wellbeing. There is even some evidence it affects a person's cognitive abilities. In your case, it will probably just be temporary; you have already spoken of wild mood swings and tender breasts. It will get worse before it gets any better. That much I promise you.

"As to why you are dressed like this. I once overheard you at a party tell Fred that you thought all women were harlots at heart, but some were just better at hiding it. Today is to show you that sometimes a girl just likes to feel sexy, but that doesn’t make her cheap or a fallen woman. Assuming you aren't looking to hook up with some Neanderthal red neck, after a couple hours in a bar full of extremely horny guys, you'all have some idea what women go through. Don't get antsy and keep asking to leave, we will be here a full two hours. Just accept that I want to give you a full exposure to how a woman feels when she isn't respected. Tell me your attitude won't be changed after a few gropes and I am sure a lot of rude propositions."

Steve was almost completely in control of himself now and he spluttered, "You can't do that to me. I won't stand for that!"

"Okay big guy how are you going to stop it. I have the car keys, you have no money or phone. What are you going to do walk home? Have you seen the neighborhood? If you give me a hard time I'll put you on stage as a pole dancer and you'll do it with a smile and a thank you. Am I making myself clear? You do everything I say or I leave you here."

Phyllis took a deep breath as she turned into a parking lot, full of Harley’s. "We're here. But I digress, sit while I tell you the rest. You may not like what I have to say, but you are going to listen. I hate to say this, but you are not the man I married. He was kind, gentle, considerate, and empathetic – all traits normally associated with the females of the species. That is what attracted me to you. That is the man I fell in love with.

"After all these years, I think your work has turned your heart to stone. Your oostrich-like approach to the hell Jack is being put through makes my point. Rose and I agreed that if we could show you some of what Jack is enduring, you might intercede and save him before it is too late.

“This weekend is just the opening act in your redemption. You have never been domestically oriented. To ensure you don't forget this little experiment; until Jack comes home, you will be a shiny example of a domestic engineer. Around the house, it will be nothing but housework and you'll do it all in dresses and heels. If Jack can do it so can you."

"Bu…but that's not fair."

"Honey, fairness has nothing to do with it. Think of it as payback."

Phyllis walked around and opened Steve's door to assist him out of his seat. "When you walk, keep your back arched out, try and make your shoulder blades touch. It accentuates your perky little titties."

Steve headed for the main entrance and looked over his shoulder; Phyllis was still leaning against the car. "Aren't you coming?"

"Run along and find Mr. Hampton, I'll be along shortly, I don’t want to cramp your style."

@ @ @ @

Steve stood at the door to the bar; he could feel the vibrations of the loud music. This really was not much different from the undercover work he and Fred had done in the past. The difference was that he was much closer to being the woman he looked like. He took a deep breath to settle his nerves and opened the door wide. He was greeted by a sea of humanity. He fought off a dozen gropes as he elbowed his way to the bar where he planned to start his search for his boss.

It felt like every guy in the bar was ogling him, the women had an entirely different expression.

Phyllis stood on a raised platform and watched her husband with an amused smile.

Steve reached the bar and scanned the room. A small group briefly parted and revealed his boss in a nook talking with two men in suits. That alone made them standout. By shouldering people out of the way he reached Bob, who was actively engaged in a conversation with the two men. He didn't want to give away his true identity to the strangers so he pushed his way into their circle and said in his best feminine voice, "Excuse me MR. Hampton; I'm …. Desiree. I need to talk to you in private."

Bob grinned like a cat that had swallowed the canary. He liked what he saw and what it might mean. "Excuse me guys. The little lady and I have some private business to discuss."

Bob grabbed Desiree by the wrist and pulled him to an empty booth in the back. Once there he plopped his body onto a sturdy bench before he pulled his new girlfriend on to his lap. Steve stumbled/fell across his knees.

With his mouth inches from Steve's face Bob said, "Desiree you must be new, I thought I knew every working girl here. Let's cut the crap and get down to price, give me your short time quote because I have to get home to the old ball and chain."

At that his hands reached up and cupped one of Steve's breasts. Steve was so shocked he sat frozen. Bob took Desiree's lack of protest as a sign of encouragement. So he leaned in and gave her a big wet sloppy kiss full on the lips. While he was trying to force his tongue into her mouth his free hand started working its way up her skirt.

Steve was frozen in shock at the treatment he was receiving. This behavior was grotesquely familiar to him, because he had engaged in it himself. If his female victims felt even a little of what he was feeling right now, he owed Phyllis and many other women some heart-felt apologies. Being pawed and mauled was absolutely disgusting.

Phyllis had been watching her husband's discomfort but enough was enough. She stormed toward her husband's mugging, shedding people like a fullback headed to the end zone. She was as angry as a bull. Once within earshot, she bellowed, "What are you doing to my husband? You pervert put him down!"

Bob jerked, sending Desiree flying. Who landed with a thud on his backside?

It hit him who this girl really was, "What the fuck is going on Garibaldi, why are you dressed like that? My god you look like a whore."

Embarrassed, Steve used the back of his hand to wipe across his lips and came away with a small pink smear of lipstick residue.

"No disrespect sir, but you didn't seem to mind a few minutes ago. I needed to talk to you without anyone noticing."

"Good job asshole. Now we have 200 people staring at us. Get off the floor and sit like a person."

"I need a hand up."

"I am going to kill you Garibaldi." Bob reluctantly stood and boosted Steve into the seat next to him with a single heave.

Steve sat and tried to pull the hem of his dress down. Hampton smiled at the action and took control of his emotional outburst and calmed down.

Steve slowly peeled away a curl that were stuck to his face with sweat, and tucked the stray lock behind his ear. He replied in a voice that contained a tinge of weariness and a hint of guilt. "As to why I look like this. The hair is just a matter of being practical, wigs are such a pain. Spending so much time in disguise, it is too hot and humid to wear a wig all the time. The rest is all about being able to pass so Ivan won't be able to tell who or what I am."

Bob chewed on that information for a moment then responded, "Steve, thanks for coming out on such short notice. I've been examining your progress reports and am delighted. Both you and Linda are very pleased with our agent's progress. In fact, Linda is predicting he will move completely to the pink team very shortly. The Intelligence section is starting to get a clear picture of Ivan's organization based on what your agent has provided."

"Sorry about this boss, it may not be all that easy, we've had a development."

"Steve, you Eye-talian asshole, remove your head from where sun don't shine and fill me in. I don't like surprises. What is wrong?"

Steve nervously coughed his face dark with concern. "Well it seems we have lost our agent."

Bill about came out of his seat, "What do you mean lost?"

"Well everything was working out perfectly. Our mole had been invited to a party aboard Ivan's sail boat. Linda had him all gussied up, gave him a cell phone in case of trouble and put him in a cab. It's been a week and that's the last anyone has seen or heard from him."

"Well where's the God damn boat?"

"We don't know. It left port and we can't find it either. We have tasked all our satellites to look for it. It's a big ocean out there, but no luck so far."

"I don't want to hear about problems. I want a solution; remember your career is on the line. What are your plans to fix this?"

"I can personally go back to the club and nose around."

"Hell you asshole you will camp out en femme at the club until you get a clue about what's happened to our agent. Do I make myself clear? Looking like you do, you should blend right in with that crowd. If our pigeon has flown the coup you will be applying for a full time employment at the Pussycat club."

"But boss remember they have that facial recognition program."

"That's a chance we will have to take. You fuck this up and your next assignment will be as a security guard at the mall. Now do you need backup? I'll have Fred go with you if you think it's necessary."

Steve gave it a moment's thought, "No, I think I'll do better on my own for now, having Fred around would be a handicap, he really isn’t into this cross dressing thing."

"Well Stephanie, or whatever the hell you are calling yourself, get your sissy ass out of here and get back to work. Keep me updated through Fred. As of now, he is the agent in charge."

Phyllis had moved away to give Steve and his boss the conversational privacy that they needed. Upon hearing Hampton's rudeness, she stood and moved to sit next to her husband. She clasped his hand and looked Bill in the eye. "Please use her proper name. Unless she is masquerading as a man she will be referred to as Miss Desiree."

"Listen Bitch, I don't take orders from anyone, especially from a skirt. Make yourself useful and go fetch me another drink. Get the good stuff a single malt scotch."

Phyllis started to rise to scratch out Bill's eyes, but her husband firmly held her hand and shook his head no. Phyllis took a deep breath and calmed down as a plan developed in her devious mind. She smiled sweetly at Bill before picking up her purse and going off to the bar. Steve had seen Phyllis behave like this before and he knew what it could mean. He had always been on the receiving end of the retribution that Phyllis' smile pre-staged.

It was a good fifteen minutes before she returned. Phyllis stood behind Bob and listened to him again threaten her husband with a promise to fire him for incompetence. She was proud of her husband as he stood up for himself. "Boss you can't fire me. All of my evaluations have been outstanding. You have no cause to do something like that."

Phyllis couldn't see it, but she heard the sneer in Hampton's voice.

"How dare you challenge my authority? You may be correct, about dismissing you. But I can give you every crap assignment that comes along. In fact, with you looking like a bitch in heat, starting Monday I’m reassigning you to the secretarial pool. How are your typing skills? I bet I'll be able to build a case for incompetence in a hurry!"

Steve sat up straight and tried to make his case. "I have too much seniority to be put into a GS-2 slot. Besides, without me, the Ivan case will collapse!"

Bill thought for minute and turned in his seat to fully face Steve, oddly his eyes were locked on Stephanie's chest. He replied “You're probably right. Losing this case would definitely not be good for my career. We'll compromise. As of Monday, you will be Fred's executive assistant. Make sure you are dressed appropriately for your new position."

Phyllis moved next to Steve and put Bill's drink on the table with a thud, spilling a small part of it. Hampton looked at it and then up at Phyllis, his eyes lingering on her bust. "Well it took you long enough."

Phyllis simply smiled and said, "Sorry, it was crowded at the bar. Drink up Mr. Hampton. It was my pleasure to serve you."

The tone in her voice signaled that she was up to something and it made Steve very nervous. She took a seat beside her husband. As he slid over to make room for her, he whispered to her, "What did you do?"

She answered in the same whispered level. "Shush, you'll find out soon enough."

Once she was settled, Phyllis looked Hampton directly in the eye and said, "I couldn't but notice Bill, but you seem to like my husband's cleavage."

Bill blushed, realizing that he had been caught. "I'll admit they are attractive. The clothes and makeup I can understand, but it sure looks like your sissy husband is growing his own set of tits. How do you explain that?"

“Well I admit it is my doing. I inadvertently gave him a potent super strength female hormone pills. And Voilá. You can see the results. "

She opened her purse and help up an empty pill bottle. "I truly hope you like man boobs Bill. I feed Steve just 2 of these pills a day, but I dumped 22 of them into your drink. I bet you'll be a full DD by the New Year."

The look on Bill's face was priceless, it was a mix of shock, fear, and anger. "You bitch! It's a felony to tamper with someone's food and drink. I'm going to have you behind bars before you know what's happening!"

Instead of responding with the fear someone faced with arrest and a long stay in jail, Phyllis smiled scornfully and laughed in his face. "Try and prove it big guy."

Hampton sputtered in frustration. "I'll have a blood test and once the results come back. I'll have you locked up. "Bill stormed out and headed for his car.

Steve turned to his wife with his eyes wide, fearful for what could happen to her, and said "You didn't really do that did you?"

Phyllis relaxed back in the booth and smile broadly. "I should have but I didn't. I simply dissolved a month's worth of my birth control pills in his drink. A blood test will only show a slightly elevated estrogen level. Just enough to make him worry. I'm quite sure that we have nothing to worry about."

She straightened up and patted him on the arm. "Now come on. We have to take you shopping. You are going to need new outfits. You'll need several pant suits and a few jacket skirt suits. We need to stop by a good wig shop. The blonde curls are just not suitable for an office setting. I was thinking a brunette medium length layered wig. It will give you a much more professional appearance."

@ @ @ @

A sniveling Jack entered the limo and sat in a zombie-like trance, lost in a world of self-pity. Before he knew it Jack found himself at his apartment building. The driver opened his door and gave Jack a hand climbing out. Jack stood up straight and was met with a chorus of catcalls and whistles, running a gauntlet of young men 'hanging out' on the sidewalk. Jack made his way to his apartment door. By now he was crying hysterically when he realized Ivan had kept his purse. He had no keys, money, or identification. Jack knocked loudly on his apartment door, praying that Linda was home.

Linda eventually opened it just a crack. She looked out; but didn't recognize the woman in the hall. Jack's heart nearly burst at seeing 'his' Linda again. She started to close the door, but Jack put his foot against it. For a minute it was a standoff. Linda pushed but Jack refused to move his foot. It took a moment for Linda to recognize Daisy. Her eyes went wide and her mouth opened and closed a couple of times but the only thing to come out was a squeaky, "Wow!" Gaining her voice, Linda threw the door open and gawked. Without thinking she said the first thing that came to her, "Daisy where did you get those knockers? Your face looks different too, what all has been done to my Daisy. This has got to be a gigantic story, come in and tell me what happened."

Daisy feeling exposed in the hall, kept his head down and attempted to rush into the apartment trying to sidestep Linda. In his haste, all he managed to do was bang his left breast on the door frame. Grabbing his boob in pain, Jack slouched over trying to minimize his tits. The novelty of being a stacked woman was fading fast. Massaging his tender boob, Jack said, "Linda that Ivan is a miserable vermin, and that ship of his is a petri dish, he gives cockroaches a bad name."

For emphasis Jack put his hands under his breasts and heaved them up. Look what he did to me. These aren't breasts, they're udders. I am nothing but a circus sideshow; I'm 120 pounds of walking, giggling tits! Getting here from the car was unbelievable; everyone was staring at my boobs."

Linda saw that Daisy was having an emotional tsunami. She knew she must do something quickly to save his mental wellbeing. Pointing down the stairwell she said, "Don't worry about those people, they are just reprobates. Now let's get you bathed and into bed, I will bring you a good stiff drink, then we can have a long talk."

Sitting on the side of the bed, Linda could only gawk at Daisy's titanic tits, and then with a sheepish grin, Linda nonchalantly laid her hand on Jack’s thigh and finally had to inquire, "Oh, hmm…Daisy, I have to ask, did Ivan take the family jewels?"

A weeping Daisy responded, "Um, no he left them for what good they will do me, the doctor also told me he implanted massive amounts of time released female hormones inside me. Which means my boy parts are going to become irrelevant in time. Linda what am I going to do? I am such a freak, I'll never be able to be a man again and with these monstrosities I can never be a normal woman."

Linda mused to herself that Daisy's petulant little pout made her look even sexier than she normally did. Trying to liven the moment Linda said with a grin, "Daisy, it looks like you hit the jackpot in the boob lottery."

"Actually Linda, I won the booby prize," joked back Jack.

The brief change in his mood encouraged Linda, "Daisy, you may not want to hear this, and forgive my audacity. Your figure may be of staggering proportions but I think you are stunning, I don't care what they say Daisy, but size does matter. You have a set of breasts that a man or woman could get lost in. In fact, it would take three days to find your way out of those mountains of flesh. I could spend a lifetime mapping the topography of your chest."

Daisy tilted her head and batted her eyelashes at Linda and seductively whispered, "Linda, you really make me feel good about myself."

With the tension now broken, Linda noticed Daisy's nipples and aureoles were well developed and extremely predominant. Daisy turned her head and laid it on Linda's warm and inviting shoulder. The two 'women' spent the remainder of the night wrapped in each other's arms. With all the sympathy she could muster, Linda comforted Daisy, kissing her forehead. She said, "Honey I will help you if I can, but you have got to realize I am just a contractor, hired to do a job. My self-interest can't be put in jeopardy. However I will do whatever I can to help."

After spending most of next the day trying to console Daisy, Linda finally told her roommate, "Listen honey, I have to go into the office for a while, Steve is demanding a report on your absence. We were all very worried about you. Besides I have to tell him about all the physical changes to your body and about your fragile emotional state. You have to trust me on this one; you are going to be fine. You have my word on that! Will you be all right if I leave for a few hours?"

Jack answered with a sniffle, wiped his nose and nodded.

@ @ @ @

Bright and early an anguished Steve arrived for work in his fashionable pants suit. He stood off to the side of the main entrance and patted his brunette wig to ensure it was in place; he adjusted the shoulder strap of his purse and tried to muster the nerve to enter. Eventually, a gaggle of secretaries arrived. Steve fell in to the rear of the small party hoping to slip in unnoticed. He hadn’t gone three steps when he was stopped by a security guard, demanding his identification.

Steve opened his purse and handed his picture ID to the guard, who snickered as he compared the picture to the person in front of him. The guard coughed and said "Sorry Miss Garibaldi, I didn't recognize you.

"Don't be an asshole Glen. I'm undercover. Just give me back my ID."

"Sorry, no can do! I have very explicit instructions to confiscate your ID."

"What am I to do?"

Laughing Glen replied, "I was told human resources would issue you a new one, I'll escort you there and then I was told to take you to Mr. Hampton's office.”

Steve sat in a standard government issued gray hard back chair waiting for his new ID picture to be taken when his cellphone rang. Steve fumbled in his purse to find the phone. It was a text from Linda that simply said, "Good news. We need to meet at our normal place.” A relieved Steve smiled for his picture.

Steve was handed his ID that now read HLS Agent Miss Desiree Garibaldi.

A furious Steve stuffed the ID into his purse, pulled out his compact and quickly checked his makeup and headed for his rendezvous with Linda. He would talk with her before he faced Fat Bob.

@ @ @ @

Jack watched the front door close. Finally alone, Daisy spent a long time standing naked in front of the mirror studying his new body. His diet, exercise, and hormones had sapped the bulk of his manly muscles, leaving behind nothing but soft curves. The front of his breasts appeared so full and ripe that they actually concealed a portion of his thin arms when he held them at his sides. Jack felt a sense of shame at the fact that his own image produced a semi-sexual arousal within him. Strangely, it was more emotional than physical. Walking with his breasts unrestrained was a major distraction. The mounds of flesh grazed his arms when he moved.

Reflecting on his new image, one word kept jumping into his head and only one word, 'Bimbo'. Jack wondered how he'd have the nerve to show himself like this in public, even at the club he would stand out. The solitude dampened his spirits even more. Jack actually contemplated suicide. He concluded, that living like a freak, was not worth living. Anything was better than going through life like it was a perpetual Halloween. The emotional and physical turmoil were more than he could handle. The reverberations of his emotional abuse by Linda followed by the physical abuse inflected by Ivan hit like a train wreck.

Jack wandered the apartment looking for a way to kill himself. He searched through the bathroom medicine cabinets, but found nothing. Unfortunately, he had never had a very high capacity for withstanding pain, so whatever means he took would have to be painless. He would jump off the top of the building but he was afraid of heights. That left him with very limited options. Eventually he realized that he didn't really want to die, he just wanted to stop hurting on the inside.

Thoughts of suicide temporarily put aside, Jack realized he needed help. He really needed someone to talk to. Linda was out, she was a total psycho, and Ivan was an uncaring bastard. The girls at the club were a possibility, but in his heart Jack knew he needed a friend.

Standing in front of his bathroom mirror, Jack was awed and disturbed by his reflection. Then it hit him. "Damn!" He breathed, "I’m quitting this spook operation and I’m going back to Rose; we were the best of friends maybe we can recapture that. I’ll plead with her to take me back. With her love and support I can get through this!"

Jack needed to get dressed. He quickly found that walking around with an unsupported bosom was not an optimal solution. It was obvious he had to find something to stop his fun bags from wildly flopping around. Going through his massive wardrobe, Jack could find nothing that fit his new dimensions. Finding his largest bra, Jack unsuccessfully attempted to stuff his humongous jugs into the hopelessly overmatched bra cups, but once he managed to fit his flesh into the cups he wasn’t able to get the bra’s band to fasten closed. As a last resort, he dared to enter into Linda’s inner sanctum and searched through her lingerie. He found her largest brassiere and tried it on. He could at least get it closed, but the mass of flesh popped out whenever he moved. Even standing perfectly still, mountains of cleavage over flowed from his tight top. It wasn’t a perfect solution, he then remembered an old bustier that Linda owned, but it was on the top shelf.

Jack bit his lip in concentration and wrapped an arm around his vast, jiggling bosoms before he took a pathetic little bunny-hop in the air, his other arm straining upwards for balance. He managed to grasp the bustier but landed on his ass, boobs oscillated uncontrollably for ages. Jack actually thought it was funny the way the huge creamy spheres danced so happily in contrast to his dark mood. Eventually, he put on the old bustier with half cups. It provided some support, as his breasts rested on two soft pink shelves. Unfortunately, his nipples were not covered and they stood out hard and firm like two stone monuments. As Jack looked down at them, he sadly wished his penis could get that hard.

He found that the only top that had a chance of fitting was one of Linda's knit sweaters. Stretching a size eight over his size 12 chest was a struggle. One in which on Jack found he was in point of fact busting out of. Jack was concerned that his nipples would actually force their way out of the knit weave.

He donned a matching skirt, and then retrieved a purse, lipstick, and car keys. Daisy ran a comb through his hair and was finally ready to go. After a couple of hours of driving around, Jack arrived at his old home. He pulled up and parked across the street, as he set the handbrake Jack began to panic. He realized he didn't even know if Rose lived there anymore. It had started to get dark, so Jack decided that he would wait for a while and see what developed.

While he waited, Jack must have touched up his lipstick a dozen times. It seemed that old habits are hard to break. It was now after 6 PM about the time Rose normally got home from work. Watching a gull taking advantage of the late afternoon thermals, it slowly circled above what used to be Jack's home. As the sun dipped below the palm trees, the gull made a swan dive and disappeared behind the shrubbery.

Jack took the disappearing bird and its lonely call as a precursor of his hopes of reconciliation with Rose. His melancholy shrouded him just as evening twilight enveloped the car. Jack thought, 'After the way she treated me, what argument can I use to convince her to take me back. Will telling her if she doesn't take me back I am going to kill myself work? How would I do that, I hate the sight of blood, don't like pain, the only way is to hang myself with a pair of pantyhose. Will she even care?' The longer Jack sat, the greater his doubts and insecurities grew?

The sun had faded behind the tops of the palm trees as the horizon turned from fiery red to shades of maroon and purple. Jack was starting to question his decision to come here, the only reason he stayed was the fact the porch light was on. Jack desperately grasped at the straw of Rose's last words, 'I will leave the lights on for you'. Did she mean those words as a ray of hope or was it just another cruel taunt from his former wife?

Then out of the dusk, a set of headlights illuminated Jack's car. He slumped down in the seat to remain unseen. A strangely familiar car pulled into the driveway. Jack intently tried to determine if the driver was Rose. He mustered his courage and prepared to exit the car. His plan was to intercept Rose before she got inside, figuring she was less likely to make a scene in public. Just then the driver opened the door and the dome light illuminated the driver. Not only was it not Rose, but it was Mike, his old nemesis. Jack's heart stopped as Mike got out went to the passenger side and helped Rose out of the car. With his arm supporting her, Mike helped an obviously pregnant Rose get to the front door. Rose handed Mike a set of keys and he opened the door and both disappeared into the dark house. The porch light was turned off.

'You whoring bitch!’ thought Jack as he drove away. The night sky had turned inky black, reminiscent of a tomb. Jack drove back to Linda, the only sanctuary he had left. The entire trip home, Jack was tormented by the image of Mike and Rose together, it was his worst nightmare.

During his commute home, Jack went through a transformation, his self-pity and despondency morphed into a driving desire for revenge. Suicide would have to wait. Jack had a mission to accomplish first. Jack cursed aloud, "He would find a way to get back at everyone. He had no idea how, but he would find a way. No matter what happens I am going to payback Rose for her callous vindictive behavior. Linda was next, she would be made to pay for her cruelty – 'Reap what Ye Sow'. Then there is Ivan, I will have to come up with something appropriately special for that monster."

An apprehensive Jack returned to the apartment, entering in a flourish to find a concerned Linda waiting patiently. In a melodramatic fashion Jack told Linda, "I am ready to do whatever it takes to get Ivan, he is going to pay for what he did to me."

An obviously relieved Linda greeted Jack and, in a bitter tone, replied, "Good! But you still must be punished for leaving without my permission. Take that ridiculous outfit off. We will get you some clothes that fit your matronly figure tomorrow. Strip and do it now! Take off everything except the heels.” As he walked nude, his new breasts seemed to have a life of their own. With every movement, they swung and bounced against each other, producing a significant quivering of flesh upon impact.

Linda threw Jack a jump rope, and told him to start skipping. It took Jack all of two seconds to realize jumping rope in 5 inch heels and no bra was a painful challenge. When Jack paused to complain, Linda gave him a withering stare and retrieved her 'stick'. The message was clear and Jack resumed his exercise. Jack got into a rhythm and skipped rope. His new unsupported breasts really began hurting flopping around like two gigantic wrecking balls. Jack attempted, with very little success, to contain them with his forearms as he exercised. Linda assailed him with degrading laughter. Eventually, Linda became concerned Daisy might damage her implants and terminated the night's entertainment.

As Jack climbed in bed, Linda stuck her head in and inquired, "Well Daisy what did you learn tonight?"

"I learned that I will never do anything ever again without a proper bra."

After putting Daisy to bed, Linda made a phone call and had several new outfits and bras delivered to the apartment.

The next day had Daisy dressed for work in a simple black dress that was high cut. He put on a small petal jacket in sparkling silver print with a hook and eye closure at the neckline in hopes of camouflaging his massive breasts. With hunched shoulders, Jack tried to quietly sneak into the club and just assume his normal duties. The first Daisy sighting set off a celebration of squeals and oohs and aahs from all his friends. Jack was inundated with questions concerning his welfare and where he had been.

Touched by the honest show of emotion, Jack broke down and cried. Eventually he was forced to compose himself when Phil started yelling at everyone to get back to work. At the dinner break, Daisy gathered everyone and related his story. Daisy claimed she had found a 'sugar daddy.' Who had swept her off her feet and taken her for a few ‘minor cosmetic improvements’.

This produced a howl of laughter from the group. Sue pointed at Daisy's chest and commented, "If that is a minor improvement, I don't want to be around for a major renovation." Despite the constant nagging, Daisy refused to reveal the name of her benefactor. The way Ivan was hovering around Daisy, it didn't take Sherlock Holmes to solve the mystery.

@ @ @ @