Chapter 41

Hampton called Steve into his office just before quitting time. When he arrived, he was surprised to find the office unoccupied. He took a seat to wait for his boss to show up and to find out why he had been summoned. Taking advantage of the alone time, he removed his compact to check his makeup. Satisfied with what he saw, he swapped his compact for a rattail comb. He swept the comb through his hair and retouched his side-swept bangs. He had just returned the comb to his purse when Bob entered and closed the door. Pompously, he parked his behind on the edge of his desk and didn't waste any time.

"Garibaldi, I just left our resident doctor. He's been in discussions with your civilian physician. I'm pretty bugged about what little I could find out. Is it true that you are more female than male?"

Steve squirmed self-consciously in his chair. He understood that his personal life had a direct bearing upon his security clearance and his ability to do his job, but it was embarrassing to discuss it with someone not in the medical profession. Even then it was difficult.

"Yes sir. It's more complicated than that; but basically that's what I've been told."

"I was afraid of that. I know you have been seeing our shrink. He won't talk to me so I'll ask you. Are you seriously considering swapping the old bat and balls for a pussy?"

Steve came up out of his chair, appalled at the bluntness that only Hampton seemed to exhibit. "I'm sorry sir that is really none of your business!"

His boss held up his hand to forestall Steve's outburst. "Calm down, don't get your panties in a bunch. It's my business to ask because I'm in danger of losing my best agent. Whichever way you decide to go, there will have to be some changes in regard to your position around here."

"I don't understand." An uneasy feeling was forming in Steve's gut. It was never good when your boss told you that things were changing in some fashion.

"Come on even a dumb Ginny like you must be able to see with you looking and acting like a Miss America contestant you can't be the same effective agent," Hampton answered with a frown.

Steve slumped in his chair. He waited for Bob to continue.

Bob, looked Garibaldi in the eye. "Steve, I'll confess you were considered by most as the agency's number one agent. Before you became a full time crossdresser there was talk of moving you up to being a regional director.

"Our country is just not ready for a tranny HLS director. I'm afraid that J. Edgar killed that for you and your type. If you want a shot at that promotion you will need to change. The way I see it we have three choices. Option one is to lose the dresses, makeup, jewelry and the Tinkerbelle mannerisms. Look and act as much like a man as you can. We'll just consider this crossdressing as an anomaly because of your recent concussion."

Bob fidgeted with his bra strap and went on. "Just between us. You can keep the lingerie as long as it's not noticeable. Option two, Desiree continues to work here as part of the administrative support staff. She has become the most proficient and well-liked sexretary in the office. Of course we will still need her operational expertise. I see Desiree acting in a mentor and advisory role to our other agents."

He paused for a moment before laying out Steve's final choice. "The last option is that we use Desiree as a female undercover agent. You could go places and do things our real woman agents can't or won't."

Bob glanced over at his full in-box then added. "The damn bureaucratic paperwork is killing me. So I would require Desiree continue as an admin assistant between field assignments. Give it some thought and get back to me with your decision."

None of the choices his boss were very palatable. What would Phyllis think?

"How soon will I have to decide?"

"Take your time. We'll talk after the trial."

Bob watched Steve / Desiree walk out of his office slowly. It was hard to keep the two names separate in his mind and he knew that he would always think of Garibaldi as Desiree, regardless of the decision his agent made. He moved back around to his desk chair and resettled his breasts in his bra before he sat down to finish his day's work. He only hoped that his own breasts were temporary. He sincerely hoped they would stop growing. If not he was going to have to ask his wife to take him bra shopping. That thought terrorized him. As he watched the door slowly close he wondered how he would respond given the same ultimatums he had given Steve.

Steve had a lot to think about on his bus ride home. He had always identified with his job and what he did for a living helped to define who he was. Being a Federal agent generated a great deal of job satisfaction for him. With the events of the last few weeks he now realized despite all the accomplishments and accolades he had not been happy.

His time as a faux woman had opened his eyes. At work, being Desiree the secretary was satisfying. At home playing the lesbian spouse had reignited his love life. Changes at work meant that he would have to change how he worked with people. There was the issue of giving up his girlie friendships. How would the ladies in the office treat Steve if he were to return?

As the bus bumped along on the pothole filled roads, Steve could feel the pressure building in his milk jugs. He needed to get home soon and pump. Which only served to remind him of the upcoming baby and what Phyllis expected of him. That would complicate things at work. Steve got an amused expression on his face as his mind's eye as he pictured the reaction that Steve would receive sitting in the men's room breastfeeding his baby.

Steve pondered the question, 'Was giving returning to his old self worth sacrificing his newfound happiness?' It would not be an easy decision. It was something he needed to talk over with Phyllis, this was no longer something only Steve or Desiree could determine.

He decided to procrastinate on life changing decisions and turned his mind to the present he had been given by the girls. He wanted to get home, excited to show his gift to Phyllis. He literally skipped off the bus and walked the short distance to his home. He hurriedly dug through his purse to get to his house keys, unlocked the door pushed it open and ended up bumping his nose against the door.

Feeling rather foolish, he realized that the chain was across the door. He called out for his wife, but it took her several minutes to reach the door. A barefoot Phyllis wearing baggy white cotton slacks and an orange cotton shirt with log billowing sleeves answered the door. Her hair was tied back with a piece of white yarn. Steve couldn't but help but notice that his wife's face was flushed, her eyes were red as if she had been crying. With his purse in one hand and his box under the other arm, he excused himself and sidestepped her and moved into the foyer. Phyllis backed up into the living room and gestured vaguely toward the love seat.

Before he could ask her what was wrong, she inquired, "What's in the box?"

"A present from the girls at work. I can't wait to show it to you."

It quickly became apparent that the box was of little interest to her because Phyllis's demeanor was as cold as the proverbial well diggers… In a serious voice she said, "That can wait. First we need to talk."

Steve didn't like the sound of this. The uneasy feeling he had had in Bob Hampton's office came rushing back. Was Phyllis preparing to tell him that she was leaving him after all? Was there something wrong with the baby? Was there something wrong with her?

He sat on the settee, positioned his purse on the floor next to his feet, the box he held in his lap. He sat ramrod straight with his knees pressed tightly together.

Phyllis paced the width of the room in front of him, obviously struggling with what she had to say.

"Steve, I have something to confess. I was at the mall today, with several of my girlfriends. We ran into an old friend of mine, Larry. He was in town for a business convention. I wanted to be the one to tell you, before the rumors get back to you."

Steve swallowed twice and said, "Larry, the ex-football player? The guy who never met a mirror he didn't like?"

She nodded. "Exactly, so you remember him?"

"Yes, I do."

Phyllis sighed. "He was looking really fine today. He's still tanned and has retained all those sexy muscles. He has lost the crewcut. His black hair now curls around his ears. The other girls swooned when he flashed his purely whites at me."

Steve swallowed. "Wasn't he was the guy you were dating before me?"

Phil took a deep breath and summed up her courage to go on. "Actually, I was still seeing him while we were dating."

Steve's eyes opened wide and bulged out, his mouth hung open. His body tensed up from that body blow. Even though it was in the past, it was still a shock. Especially when she was bringing up now and acting this way.

Phyllis saw his reaction and rushed to say, "Before you get too upset, let me explain. Remember the first time we made love?"

Phyllis could see her husband was obviously distraught, but needed him to answer her question.

"Of course I do. It was in the backseat of my Dodge Charger."

"Now be honest with me, on a scale of 1 to 10 how was it for you?"

"That's not fair. There is no way I can answer that!" Was she telling him that she was leaving him because Larry was better in bed? What was he going to do?

Phyllis smiled and said, "You just did. I felt the same way. There was no special spark for me either. I knew from that moment there was never going to be any earth shaking sexual experiences between us. I think that lack of sexual chemistry is responsible for some of our marital problems. As a man, you were a good and considerate lover. But let's be honest. You were never anything special in the bedroom. You tried hard; but let's not confuse effort with success."

Phyllis's voice lost her normal tone of confidence and authority. Her voice grew soft and subdued. It was too late to turn back so she continued, "I have learned the key to great sex is communication. As Steve's wife I should have said something; but I never wanted to hurt your masculine pride.

"In my family, all of us girls were taught that our primary function in life was to be homemakers, mothers and wives. I was brainwashed into thinking enjoyment of sex was exclusively a male prerogative. A proper lady never wanted to come across as a tramp. So I didn't feel free to tell you what I wanted and what you were doing wrong. I kept hoping you would figure it out by my lack of enthusiasm. It never happened and we just drifted through our sex lives. On the other hand, Larry was the best no-strings attached hook-up I have ever had. He really rocked my boat, we had wild jungle sex every time we got together."

She watched as her husband's expression turned first to shock and then to grief.

Steve / Desiree got up out of the chair like he had been shot out of a cannon. The box he had been holding his lap spilled its contents on the floor as it fell. He walked over to the window where he stood looking out with his hands locked behind him. The sky was a soft shade of gray mixed with streaks of rose and pink from the setting sun. Steve couldn't say a thing as he continued to look off into the black distance with its fading streaks of rose. His continued silence made Phyllis increasingly uneasy so she turned on the lamp on the table. She sat down in a nearby armchair and leaned forward, hands clasped in front of her.

Determined to finish her explanation, she went on. "In comparison, even from the first time with you we never had sex, we made love. It was obvious that you loved me. I was torn, Larry was a self-centered bastard but a fantastic lover that was gifted at navigating a woman's body. I kept seeing him on the side to take care of my carnal impulses. I never had a thoughts of a long term relationship. He was a means of getting my rocks off, nothing more. You on the other hand had everything else I wanted in a mate.

"If you remember, we dated for a few months before I agreed on being exclusive. I stopped having sex with him after we reached that contract. You were a considerate lover and the man I loved. It finally come down to a decision between great sex and love. So I stopped seeing Larry so we could be together."

From his position at the window, Steve waited for the other shoe to drop. Knowing there was a BUT coming. He didn't have long to wait as Phyllis continued.

"It was apparent Larry was glad to see me despite the way I had treated him. We had a lovely chat and he invited me to lunch. Lunch became drinks and a lot of flirting. After several cocktails, the old urges came back. I was sorely tempted to let him ravish me. To make a long story short, he invited me back to his hotel room."

Phyllis stopped talking for a moment before she forced herself to go on.

"This is hard to say. It has been so long since I have had just a no-strings attached romp in the hay. I accepted his offer, hoping to rekindle some of the old magic."

Steve stood looking out, rocking back and forth on his heels. Steve felt everything in his life was spiraling out of control, starting to feel ill. He eventually found the nerve to say, "I assume you spent the afternoon in his room."

Phyllis jumped to her feet and moved toward her husband and said with as much conviction she could muster, "Oh heavens no. We both had driven our own cars to the mall. He gave me his room key and I went to freshen up, agreeing to meet Larry in his room. While I was in the loo, I gave the whole proposition a lot of thought. I decided an hour or two of sex wasn't worth risking our marriage and relationship. So I went out the side door and came home to the person I love."

Steve fought hard to keep from sobbing in relief but managed to get out, "I can understand how you would be tempted considering that I have not been a real man in so long."

Phyllis came storming back emotionally, scolding him. "It seems I think more of you than you think of yourself. True, your current condition is marginally your fault. If you hadn’t been fooling around with a hooker, you wouldn’t have been attacked by her pimp. But that is in the past and we love each other more than ever. At least, I love you."

Steve broke down and shed a storm of tears, "You don’t understand. Bob Hampton had a long talk with me before I left work today. He made it plain that I am no longer qualified to resume my old position. He told me I had to choose between being a mere secretary or working as a female undercover agent."

"Those are your only options?" Phyllis asked, her expression incredulous that Steve's expertise as an agent could be so easily discounted.

"No, he also said if I gave up dressing and acting like a woman, I could try to resume my old job. But with my current physical attributes, I don't see that as a viable option. I will try to be Steve again and give up on Desiree if that is what you want."

"What is it that you want?" It was all well and good that Steve would do this for her, but his happiness and comfort was also important to her.

"I'm not sure I want to give all this up, but I will try if it means we can stay together."

Steve looked at his wife. She walked to a chair and dropped into it. A single lonely tear fell to her lap.

"Honey, there is no way I am ever letting you go. I didn't mean to hurt you with what I told you. If we are to remain together we need to come to an understanding. I've been crying my eyes out since I got home, thinking about all we have lost as a couple. In our bedroom, like a good wife, I repressed my sexual needs, desires and hungers. I have needs that Steve was unable to fill. I can now see how my not telling you how I feel put our entire marriage in jeopardy. That ends as of now!"

With a smile on her face Phyllis continued. "It may be selfish of me. But I think we will both be happier if Desiree lives here. She is my best friend. Since Desiree has shown up, I feel empowered to actually ask and even demand what I want. I am free to take charge. I love being the dominate partner for a change. I would die on the inside if I lost Desiree. From my perspective you seem to enjoy being the submissive one. Tell me if I am wrong."

Steve stood there mute trying to decide what to say. He could clearly see how he had been an arrogant SOB, both in and out of the bedroom.

Phyllis pleaded, "For Pete's sake. Say something."

Steve turned to face his wife and wiped the tears from his eyes. "You keep talking about Steve and Desiree as if they are two different people. "But I'm the same person. Steve is Desiree!"

"No, you're wrong. Steve is the strong independent man of the house. Desiree is a meek, mild, needy young lady. One who looks to me for support and advice. When was the last time Steve ever asked me what to wear or how to comb his hair? It feels good to be needed. Can you understand that?"

Steve came to the decision that he wanted to save his marriage. Phyllis's confession to being tempted had upset him. He could now empathize with how much he had hurt her with his dalliances. He was determined to be honest and faithful from that moment on.

"No, you're right. I like it when you are the dominant one in our love making. As Steve, I always felt pressure to perform. As your submissive lesbian love partner, I can relax and enjoy being told what and how to perform. Being the docile one has allowed me to experience pleasures Steve never dreamed of."

Phyllis smiled at his response and said, "Let me ask a very personal question. From what I have been observing, you have more than accepted the change in gender roles. Whenever you've been given a choice, I notice you always pick the most feminine garments available. Do you envy women?"

"No, it's obvious I am going to be a female for possibly the rest of my life. So I decided I would try to emulate them. I always thought I was good as a man. If I am going to be a woman, I want to be the best, most feminine one I can be."

Phyllis smiled lovingly. "When I am with Desiree, there is an emotional closeness. A true sense of intimacy. That was never there with Steve. It sounds strange but being with Desiree makes me feel like a woman. More than that like a Goddess. Desiree is concerned with my pleasures without thought of reciprocation. We can talk later to figure out how to make your job work. Let's make a deal. I'll forget about Larry if you will."

Phyllis got her answer when Steve pulled her to him and the two clung to one another for the longest time. Eventually, Phyllis broke free and picked up the lingerie that was at their feet. She insisted that Desiree model it for her.

Smiling, Desiree rushed to their bathroom to put on the lingerie and freshen up while Phyllis went to pour a couple of glasses of red wine. The two met at the foot of their bed. Phyllis was surprised to see that he had changed his makeup from normal daywear to a more Lady Gaga look. Eyeliner and shadow heavy as a streetwalker. Phyllis casually remarked that, with his see-through lingerie and heavy makeup, he didn't look very lady like and Desiree retorted, "Who said I'm a lady? Tonight I only want to be your sex toy. Come play with me."

With hearts racing, hands trembling, and muffled cries of passion their first copulation didn't last long. What it lacked in tenderness it more than made up for in passion and animal lust. They united throughout the night and into the next morning as only people in love can.

During the ensuing trial days, Phyllis took over all but the most routine decisions around the house. The only decision Desiree was allowed to make was whether to wear 'underwire or soft cup.' Every day, Phyllis laid out his outfit and supervised his hair and makeup. He was shod exclusively in towering stilettos. His outfits quickly evolved, from business classy, to housewife attractive, to sexy, to ultra girly that moved to Kim Kardashian style club outfits ending up being almost trashy. It got so bad that one day, the bailiff would not allow Desiree into the courtroom. Steve had to rush into a 7-11 and buy a sweatshirt.

With her supremacy at home, Phyllis took a different tact. She refused to wear heels. Her outfits at first were neutral and androgynous with no makeup. That progressed into pants then for more formal occasions to pantsuits with a blazer and flats. When he commented on the disparity in their clothing, Phyllis jokingly dismissed his remark by saying, "One of us has to wear the pants around here." She softened any sting her words might have had by wrapping him in a loving hug and assuring him that she was only teasing and that, yes, she was experimenting with some role reversal.

@ @ @ @

Weeks later, the big day finally arrived. As Daisy and Linda walked into the court house, Steve stood off to the side of the lobby and paced nervously back and forth waiting for Mr. Hampton to appear. The ladies walked right by without noticing him. He had been totally consumed by the trial every day since its beginning. He hadn't been to the office in weeks and he hadn't seen or even talked to his boss in all that time.

Yesterday, he had received a text message that Bob wanted to be at the courthouse for the finale. Bob was almost 30 minutes late so Steve called his office number. Surprisingly, Naomi answered the phone. When Steve said he was looking for Bob, Naomi laughed and said he was home sick. Concerned, Steve asked, "What's wrong? Nothing serious I hope."

This elicited a giggle from Bob's PA and she replied, "He got back from the doctor yesterday diagnosed with shingles and a condition called meteorism."

"Never heard of it."

"Very few have," Naomi said. "Its primary symptom is uncontrolled flatulence."

"What would cause that?"

"Nerves. With you being tied up in court you haven't been around the office recently. The day we sent Bob home with his first bra, his wife Margret went ballistic. She was waiting at my desk the next morning demanding an explanation. We went for coffee and had a heart to heart talk.

"She was aware of the fact Bob has a roving eye, but she didn't know about was his philandering since they moved here. I told her about his dalliances with prostitutes. She was furious and concerned he may have given her some disease.

"Her initial plan was to humiliate him by taking him bra shopping. We talked over possible revenge scenarios. I mentioned that after he hit on you as Desiree what your wife did to him. Making him think he had been dosed with female hormones. I even confessed that we ladies at work got so fed up with his sexist attitude we followed through on Phyllis's plan and have been feeding him our birth control pills.

"I was worried about how she might respond to that news. You wouldn't believe how surprised I was when she laughed so hard she couldn't breathe. After she regained her composure, she came up with a really Machiavellian idea. She suggested we continue with what we are doing. She has noticed her husband has been a lot more docile recently and she is enjoying the experience. In addition to the hormones we are feeding him, she planned to visit a health food store to purchase supplements that are thought to increase breast development. She assured me that her husband will be wearing bras from now on, the only question is how big his cup size will end up.

"We ended up going back to the office as the best of friends. She marched right into his office and dragged him out to go shopping. Being Miami with its beach culture, they went to one of the surfside boutiques. Despite his protests and under threat of divorce and scandal, she had him fitted for a string bikini. From there, they went to the closest tanning salon. Wearing the bikini, he spent the better part of an hour in a tanning bed. Every day since then, he has to skip lunch and go to his standing tanning appointment. According to Margret, he has lost ten pounds and now has a dark bikini tan line.

"She said that every time he disagrees with her, she threatens to make him sunbath on the beach. I guess the pressure just got to him. Should I tell him you called?"

Steve's smile had grown to the point where it felt like his face would split wide open. There was a smile in his voice as he responded, "No that's alright. I'll catch him when I get back to the office."

Steve put his phone into his purse and, after clearing security, went to Desiree's reserved seat in the gallery. He knew his mission was a total success. Not only was the madman Ivan going away for a long time, but a large number of network operatives had been rounded up. The data Daisy collected off Ivan's computer led to the mid-eastern terrorist cell that started this entire operation. They were disgruntled Muammar Gaddafi disciples looking for payback. They were now on a long forced vacation in Cuba.

He was as surprised as everyone when the plea agreement was announced. Amid the jubilation in the courtroom, he looked at his watched and realized he had several hours before his scheduled meeting with his doctor. He was concerned because the Viagra had stopped working and he continued to need frequent milking's. He wanted solutions so he decided to head that way to see if the doctor could squeeze him in early. He was desperate for answers.

He made good time to the office and told the receptionist he wanted to speak to the doctor. She explained that the doctor was with a patient and would see him as soon as she could. He took a seat and picked up an old copy of Good Housekeeping. He discovered a fascinating article about baking organic brownies. When no one was looking, he tore out the pages from the magazine and hid them in his purse. It was only a few moments later that the door opened and his wife walked out. She was wearing black denim jeans, white sneakers with a pale blue polo golf shirt.

Shocked, he said, "Phyllis? What are you doing here?"

She sat down next to him and put her purse between her feet. "I had an appointment for some tests."

"Tests? What's wrong are you sick?"

She shook her head no. Looking around she lowered her voice so no one else could hear. "No they were not that kind of test. Sweetheart, how long have you been going down on me?"

Bewildered at the question, his first thought was she had some kind of urinary problem. He thought and tried to count the weeks and could only guess, he proudly said, "Daily for about 8 weeks."

"Well Sherlock, does that tell you anything?"

Steve was puzzled, and answered "No, nothing I can think of."

Phyllis's smile covered her entire face. "How many days did we miss because of my period?"

At that moment, it hit him. "Are you saying you're pregnant?"

"Yes dear, the doctor says that I'm about four weeks along. It must have happened about the time your water works dried up. The good news you had just enough juice to get the job done."

Desiree jumped for joy and let out a yelp. There were scandalized looks at the sight of two woman hugging and kissing, but there were some indulgent looks as well. Desiree bother to do anything to clarify the situation when he announced, "She's having my baby."

That is when Desiree's name was called by the doctor's nurse. The two woman held hands and followed the nurse to the doctor's office. The doctor looked up from a pile of forms spread out across the desk as they took their seats. With a serious look on her face, she began, "Desiree let me ask, can you still function as a man in the bedroom?"

Steve put his head down in shame and stared at his hands in his lap. "No, not for a while, about four weeks I guess. Even when I doubled up on the Viagra, nothing happened."

"That is a long time to go without sexual gratification. How are you handling that and getting sexual relief?"

"Phyllis has been giving me all the sexual pleasure I need. I'm still sensitive down there. It feels great when Phyllis plays with me. It just doesn't get firm."

The doctor made notes in Steve's file then turned back to Desiree, "How often are you milking?"

"I pump morning, noon and night."

The doctor wrote something else in her notebook. "Does that relieve breast pressure?"

"Well Phyllis helps when she nurses on me nightly." The doctor looked at Steve over the rim of her glasses. "And what else aren't you telling me?"

"Well I do leak during the day, enough that I stain my clothes. So to remain discreet I wear disposable Nursing Pads between nursings."

That got an eyebrow lift out of the doctor. "From what you told my nurse when you requested this appointment the volume and frequency of your milking is an issue."

Steve answered "Yes, the requirement to milk has become pain. It's embarrassing to have to run off to the lavatory at work to milk myself. If I don't milk frequently, my breasts swell and become quite uncomfortable. How long will I continue to produce?"

"That is a matter of hormones. A woman produces milk for as long as she continues to nurse or pump. I have one patient that has been breastfeeding for three years. There are medications that can dry you up. If that is what you want."

Before Steve could respond, Phyllis spoke, "No thank you doctor, I like my husband just the way she is."

Steve looked at his wife and started to comment. Phyllis shushed him and said, "Not now dear, we'll talk about this in private."

The doctor, with an amused expression on her face, turned to her patient, "Now that issue is off the table. Steve, I have your latest lab results here. I'm sorry to say your testosterone levels are close to zero. Conversely, your female hormone levels are super high almost off the chart."

"What does that mean?"

The doctor took off her glasses and made eye contact with her patient, "In my medical opinion, it means Steve is gone, in all likelihood forever. With the physical changes taking place in your body, it would be my recommendation that your best chance of leading a normal life is if you present yourself as a woman."

Phyllis's heart jumped for joy, while Steve became light headed, slumped and slid off his chair onto the floor. Both the doctor and Phyllis rushed to his aid and assisted him back into his seat.

@ @ @ @

During the car ride home, Phyllis explained her objection to the medication. "Honey, I realize it has been a rather traumatic afternoon. I need you to answer me honestly. Are you happy about the baby? If not there are certain things I can do."

"Oh heavens no. I'm delighted we are going to have a baby."

Hearing her husband affirm her own feelings made her so happy that she felt light-headed.

"Alright. Question number two. How do you feel about having to live as Desiree? I know you never held a high opinion of women, now you is one." They had had this conversation before, but having a baby made it more important.

Phyllis held her breath waiting for the answer. Steve chewed on his lower lip and took his time before answering. "This is hard for me to admit. When you forced me to live as Desiree, I wasn't happy about the situation. I resented you and everyone else who forced me to become a second class person. I came close to quitting my job, packing up and running off."

Phyllis laughed and said, "Buster, it would have been a race to the door. I can't tell you how many times I thought about leaving you. So let's cut to the bottom line. How do you feel about having to live life as a woman?"

Steve stared out the window lost in thought after several minutes he responded in a weak and indecisive voice.

"There are a lot of things that I have come to appreciate. I simply love the variety of clothes I get to wear instead of the bland old suits Steve always wore. Desiree has developed friendships unlike anything Steve ever had. The girls at the office have been wonderful. Even our relationship has blossomed into more of a friendship and our sex life is spectacular.

Those things are all positives. However I'm having a hard time excepting the fact I'll never be a functioning man again. I'll surly miss our husband and wife intimacies. However since you asked for honesty. I'll tell you penetration was always the focal point of our love making.

"We now do more to bring each other pleasure with our mouths, tongues and fingers than my ding-a-ling ever did. Hell even kissing is now a trip to nirvana. Even if I could, I'm not sure I would want to go back to what we had. How about you, will you miss your husband Steve?"

"Honey, I don't want to hurt your feelings. It may be the dormant lesbian in me; but Desiree does things for me that manly Steve never did. She is the most caring considerate partner a woman could ever ask for. To be truthful, I find that giving pleasure to her only heightens my own enjoyment."

Phyllis stole a quick glance at her husband trying to read his reaction. She was rewarded with a grin that went from ear to ear. She merged into the slow lane so she could concentrate on their discussion.

"We both seem to agree that our sex life is better like this. But being Desiree is a lot more than just bedroom gymnastics. How does Steve feel being daytime Desiree?"

Steve needed time to think so he adjusted the seatbelt so it ran between his breasts. Once he was comfortable, he continued, "I'm ashamed to admit that, as a man, I objectified all women. Certainly, I never considered them as intellectual equals. In my family, male chauvinism was something to be proud of. We were taught to believe men are superior to women."

Pushing a lock of hair out of his eyes, he focused on Phyllis to gauge her reaction. Her body language revealed nothing, she remained focused on the road ahead and gave no indication of being upset at what he was saying. So he took a deep breath and continued, "Thanks to all that's happened to me. I now have a totally different perspective on life."

"A new prospective how so?"

He shrugged. "That could take all night. Let's start with the obvious. I never really grasped how much effort a woman goes through to look presentable. Like most men I paid lip service to the concept; but until you live it you can't appreciate all that goes into it. You make me jealous the way you wake up looking beautiful. It takes me an hour to just look presentable."

Phyllis took one hand off the wheel and waved that comment away as if it was too trivial to bother with.

Steve went on, "When I was a man, I would run a comb through my hair and use an electric razor to shave on the way to work. Now that I'm a woman I fret over a million small details. Does my outfit match, what accessories should I wear? Am I putting on weight, do I need a foundation garment. Are my nails, hair, and makeup perfect, what perfume should I use? I'm exhausted before I get out the door."

Phyllis pulled up to a stop light and turned to her husband. "Steve, you keep talking about yourself in the feminine gender. Is that how you see yourself?"

"That's complicated. I have had what by all measures is a successful life and career. I was always the go to guy. The mission came first, no matter who I had to steamroll to get it done. Take poor Jack for instance, he was merely a means to an end. In all honesty, I never really liked myself. I was more and the end justifies the means person. Not someone that was very likable. Even at work I was tolerated because of the bottom line.

"That's really disturbing Steve, but you didn’t answer my question. How do you see yourself?"

"How do I see myself you ask, as a despicable human being? I would not blame you for leaving me."

Phyllis pulled her husband to her and they both shared a brief cry. If the car behind them and had not honked they might still be in the loving embrace.

Phyllis drove on. Desiree searched into her purse for a pack of tissues. The two lady's shared them.

Once he had composed himself, Steve went on, "I realize now that your conduct toward me was an attempt to restore my humanity. Did I feel humiliated? At first I was embarrassed. Believing most people saw me as a man pretending to be a woman. My male friends always made fun of people like that. The guys at work were vicious in their comments and insinuations.

"But as I became more comfortable with myself that changed over time. I'm the same person I was several months ago. But by simply wearing a dress and being the proud owner of a pair of breasts, my IQ dropped in the eyes of my contemporaries. As a woman, if I know something or have an operational opinion, I'm encouraged to conceal it as best I can. The last few weeks have shaken my belief system to its very core. Men are not superior to woman. Quite the contrary. Being a woman allows me the freedom of my feelings. I don't have to keep everything bottled up. If I feel sad I cry, if I'm happy I laugh. It is gloriously empowering."

Steve reached out and placed his hand on top of his wife's. "I found that I liked who Desiree was a lot more than I did Steve. I now wear my perceived womanhood as a badge of honor. I found that, as a woman, I have to fight to get my ideas accepted. Being an underdog and winning is very gratifying. I am accepted for what I can do. Being Desiree hasn't diminish who I am or what I can do.

"Now I admire all woman, not for their femininity or beauty but because they have accomplished so much despite being held down by jerks like the old Steve."

"If it was possible would you want to go back to being the old Steve?"

"I don't think that is possible. I know what the doctor said about my body. That is not what I am referring to. My very essence has become more feminine than masculine. I want our relationship to continue. I'm not sure how I can continue to be your husband when I feel more like a woman than a man. Please forgive me."

They pulled into their driveway. Phyllis had one more question for her husband. "From what I am hearing, you are happy with the way things are concerning your body. Do you still find me attractive sexually or do you consider yourself to be gay or transgender?"

Blowing out a breath of air in a big sigh of resignation, he stiffened his spine and with a false air bravado answered. "I hate labels. I like feeling like a woman. Does that make me a transgender? I don't know. All I can tell you is I am not sexually attracted to men. If I was trans would you leave me?"

"Don't be silly Desiree, we will always be married. Our roles may be somewhat altered from the traditional husband and wife. We can work out the particulars of who does what to whom later."

"However until you're a mother and a wife. You can't be a true woman. The wife part is easy.

"The mother criteria is a little more complicated, but doable. With me having our baby, I think it only fair we share all the parenting responsibilities and I do mean all. Our baby is going to have two loving mothers."

"But honey I have a job to go to. I will help at night when I get home."

"That's not sharing that's helping. Your office has an attached nursery right? You can take the baby with you to work and leave it at the daycare center."

"Yes, but I have a job to do."

"I don't expect you to quit your job. You get a noon time break, there is no reason you can't drop in on the nursery and feed our child during lunch. We will both nurse our baby, it will provide an excellent bonding experience for all of us. I'll take the 2 AM feedings and you do all the others. Before you say anything, this is not open to discussion."

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