“Your Honor, members of the jury, my name is Gerald Thatcher, representing the prosecution in this case. Your Honor, the State alleges that the defendant, Stephen Nielsen committed murder in the first degree, shooting Jeremy Wallace five times and causing his death,” the Assistant District Attorney addressed the judge and took his seat.

“Your Honor, members of the jury, William Sanford for the defence. First of I would remind the judge that we agreed in chambers that the defendant would be addressed by her legal name and gender, using the name Stephanie Nielsen and using feminine pronouns. The defendant pleads not guilty by the way,” William sat down next to his client, silently fuming.

“Members of the jury, the prosecutor used the defendant's legal name at the time that the indictment was first issued. Since the time of the alleged offence and her appearance today in court, the defendant has changed her name and gender legally. The prosecutor is forgiven for the slip but is directed to use the defendant’s legal name and gender from now on except when specifically required for context. The not guilty plea is entered into the court record and the trial will proceed,” Judge Vogel explained.

The first shots had been fired.

Twelve Months Before The Trial – The Nielsen Residence, New Rochelle, New York

Stephen Nielsen sat in front of the TV in his living room anxiously watching the clock. His wife Mary would be leaving for work soon and he was anxious. Mary came out of the bedroom carrying her heels and padded downstairs, a miasma of perfume preceding her. She was dressed for work: a professional looking dark skirt-suit, dark hosiery and adeptly applied makeup.

Stephen thought she looked great, although the hem of her skirt was a little askew and the eyeliner under her left eyelid had been applied inconsistently. He would never leave the house looking like that.

He muted the TV and accompanied his wife to the door adjoining their two-car garage to say goodbye. This weekend she was the duty administrator at the hospital where she worked. Mary was rostered on the overnight shift from eight in the evening until eight the next morning. The administration staff at the hospital rotated through the overnight shifts as part of their duties.

“See you tomorrow morning honey. Don’t forget we are going to your mother’s for dinner tomorrow night,” Mary leaned in and kissed Stephen quickly on the mouth and climbed into her Mercedes coupe.

Stephen waited until he heard the garage door open, her car back out and the roller door rattle back into place before he moved. He opened the connecting door and went into the garage, shimmied around his Lexus and stood before his fully-equipped workbench. He took a keyring out of his pocket and unlocked an underbench cupboard and dragged out the suitcase. He wheeled the suitcase into the house and lugged it to his study, picking it up where the tiles met carpet so as not to leave any impressions in the pile.

He locked the door to his study and put the suitcase behind his desk. He used another key on his keyring to open a small cupboard concealed in the kneehole of his desk. On a shelf inside the cupboard were a laptop computer, a cellular phone, a garage door remote and an electronic key fob. He switched the phone from mute to vibrate and checked the messages. He scrolled through the most recent of them until he found a text from ‘JW’ which read: Coast is clear, see you at 9:30 followed by three kiss emojis.

Stephen replied to the text, writing: can’t wait and smiled. He left the phone on his desk, opened the suitcase and took out a waterproof Ziploc bag and hurried upstairs to the master bedroom where he stripped. He took the bag into the ensuite bathroom, unzipped the bag, removed the douche and attached it to the showerhead. He douched and showered and while he was in the shower he shaved away any rogue hairs on his legs and body using Mary’s lady shaver. He had fully shaved his body only three days previously so there weren’t many.

He dried his body, cleaned and dried the douche and put it back in the Ziploc bag then he carefully shaved his face, put on a bathrobe, popped two Imodium and inserted four K-Y ‘Liquibeads’ in his anus and padded downstairs to his study. What he did next would have been more conveniently conducted in their bedroom but out of respect for his wife Stephen always did what he was about to do in his study. Besides it prevented him from leaving anything incriminating where Mary might find it.

Stephen set up the mirror on its little stand on the desk and opened his makeup case. As soon as he started putting concealer on his face, his psyche switched from Stephen to Stephanie. It was a mental and also physical metamorphosis. In his mind he became Stephanie, a thirty-something sophisticated woman who had a predilection for nice clothes, sexy lingerie and handsome men. The physical manifestation was accompanied by the adoption of Stephanie’s persona, not just the makeup and clothes, she adopted feminine mannerisms including her gestures, the way she walked and the way she talked.

Stephanie completed the makeup job: foundation, finishing powder, rouge, eyeliner, eyeshadow, mascara and finally a coat of long-lasting lipstick. She popped the lipstick in her handbag along with her compact. She spent a few minutes sticking press-on nails onto her fingernails; they were pre-painted the same shade as her lipstick. Although Stephanie had collar-length blond hair courtesy of her Scandinavian heritage, she elected to wear a wig. She shook out a shoulder length brunette bob, and brushed it out and after putting a wigcap over her natural hair she put on the wig, adjusted it and styled it.

Stephanie looked in the mirror and saw an attractive woman looking back at her: green eyes, high cheekbones, small straight nose and shapely lips, which she also put down to her Swedish heritage. The blunt bangs hit just below her brows, emphasising her eyes and making her face look fuller. In her own honest opinion she was a very good looking woman.

Discarding the bathrobe she stepped into a pair of Wolford nearly nude, ten denier, sheer-to-the-waist pantyhose, smoothing them up her legs and adjusting the waistband. She used two fingers to tuck each of her testicles up into each corresponding inguinal canal then wrapped her penis in her empty scrotum and tucked it along her perineum and pulled the pantyhose up tight. She could remain tucked for around eight hours if required but tonight that wouldn’t be necessary.

She pulled a pair of black, lace-trimmed, full-cut satin panties up her legs. Stephanie liked to wear her panties over pantyhose for the aesthetic but also because the man she was meeting preferred it that way. She put on the matching brassiere and popped silicon ‘chicken fillet’ breastforms in the cups to fill them. She buttoned up a long-sleeved purple satin blouse, shimmied into a tight skirt, tucked the tails of the blouse into the waistband and closed the side zipper. She would carry her heels to her car, just like her wife had done. She accessorised with costume jewellery, put on the jacket that matched her skirt, gathered her things and went out to the garage.

As she sat in the Lexus’ driver’s seat her skirt rode up her thighs and she briefly admired her legs. She thought they were better than Mary’s; they were certainly longer. Stephanie started the car and activated the garage door with the remote and waited for the security light to extinguish before she nosed the car onto the street checking to see if any of neighbours were out and about.

Stephanie is free to pursue her secret life and she is excited…

With the coast clear she drives out onto Decatur Road and continues on until she comes to the I-95on-ramp. It will take her a little under half an hour to drive to Jeremy Wallace’s apartment block on Franklin Avenue in White Plains. Parking is always a bitch in that part of town but Jeremy has given her a garage door remote which she uses to enter the underground parking facility and she parks in the slot directly behind Jeremy’s Beamer. Stephanie would have no problem parking on the street (if she could ever find a spot) and walking to the apartment building, the streets here are safe and she is eminently passable, but they both insist on discretion and it is easier and more discreet for Stephanie to park in the underground lot and take the elevator to Jeremy’s apartment than to enter through the foyer.

She slips her high-heeled pumps on her feet and walks to the elevator where she takes out the fob that will activate the elevator car from her purse. She then takes out a small bottle of Dior Poison, which although some consider the scent old fashioned, is her and Jeremy’s favourite. While she waits for the elevator she sprays herself liberally with the fragrance. She would have liked to have put on the perfume before she left home or in her car but the scent is cloying and Mary might detect its lingering bouquet.

Stephanie steps into the elevator and gives herself a final onceover in the mirrored wall before she arrives at the third floor and strides purposefully to apartment 3F. The door is slightly ajar and she slips inside and she closes it behind her, ensuring that the lock engages. Before she can even put her purse on the counter Jeremy takes Stephanie in his arms and gives her a long lingering kiss.

“Hello darling,” Stephanie's smile is wide, her lips inviting.

“Hello my love,” Jeremy flashes a brilliant white smile.

Jeremy is a handsome man in his late thirties. He is wearing a bathrobe, his thick black mane wet from the shower. He is tanned, fit and muscular, think George Clooney at the same age, with an almost permanent five o’clock shadow, dark brown eyes, and a killer smile. When Stephanie first met him in person in a seedy New York hotel she could hardly believe her luck. He is intelligent, personable and kind, and infatuated with Stephanie.

Jeremy has never seen Stephen Nielsen, nor does he ever want to. It was agreed when they began to correspond that Stephanie would always present femme in his presence. They met in the now defunct ‘Personals’ section of a classified advertisement website and exchanged messages, photographs and after weeks of back and forth banter they agreed to meet on neutral ground to see if they were compatible. They entered into a torrid love affair almost immediately.

Jeremy holds Stephanie at arm’s length so he can fully appraise her but she can see the lust in his eyes and his penis is tenting the front of his bathrobe. They are both always highly concupiscent when they first meet and they both know that sex will take place almost immediately. It will be a brief lust-fuelled encounter to appease their carnal desires, sort of an appetiser before the entrée. Later she will take off the skirt-suit and slip into some sexy lingerie but they both like the fantasy they play out. Stephanie is the mature, sexy businesswoman arriving home after a busy day and her lover can’t wait for her to undress before he takes her.

Their kisses become more impassioned and Stephanie slips her hand inside the bathrobe and takes Jeremy’s thick corpulent rod in her fingers and gently caresses it. She loves that he gasps into her mouth as she does so. She gathers the lubricious beads of pre-ejaculate and massages the viscous secretions into the flesh of his manhood. Jeremy breaks the kiss momentarily so he can watch Stephanie's long fingers, tipped with those fiery red nails, stroke his penis. He kisses her again and holds Stephanie close. She is careful to keep Jeremy’s secretions away from her skirt.

Stephen takes Stephanie’s suits, skirts and blouses to a dry cleaner across town under the pretext of dropping off and picking up his wife’s clothing but he suspects that the owner is suspicious because the clothing is sometimes stained with bodily fluids. Stephen ensures that he tips the drycleaner heavily and it is mutually understood that it buys the proprietor's silence. The proprietor is unsure whether Stephen is dropping off his mistresses clothing or wearing the clothes himself and doesn’t really care. What he does know is that Mrs Nielsen has never come into the store in person to collect her clothes. Never once in three years.

Stephanie feels Jeremy’s cock pulse and quiver as she begins to masturbate him. She takes her hand away, not wanting him to climax just yet and certainly not in her hand. She kisses him passionately, driving her tongue deep into his mouth, tasting red wine; the expensive Australian Grange Hermitage they will drink after they make love the first time. Jeremy has already tasted it and she now tastes it on his breath.

Jeremy loves the feel of Stephanie's body against him, the curve of her hips, the heft of her prim buttocks. He knows that her breasts are just silicone breastforms but they still feel nice pressed against him through her blouse and blazer. His hand drifts down to the hem of her skirt and it is Stephanie’s turn to gasp when Jeremy slips his fingers under and stokes her thighs. The feel of ten denier nylon on her flesh excites them both and Stephanie is becoming engorged.

Her testes have already descended and her cock sits uncomfortably tumescent between her buttocks inside her pantyhose and panties. Jeremy’s fingers find the lace trim on the leghole of her panties where they play with the frilly fringe briefly before they venture inside the silky garment and between Stephanie's legs where they find her penis trapped along her perineum by her pantyhose.

Stephanie moans as Jeremy strokes her bloated organ through the diaphanous fabric and she reaches for him and returns the favour. Their lips lock together and their tongues entwine as they caress each other’s rigid cocks. Jeremy knows that it hurts Stephanie a little for her cock to be trapped like that when it is erect and he manipulates it so that it springs free and bags the front of her pantyhose. He wraps his fingers around her nylon-swathed protuberance and caresses it while Stephanie grips his erect phallus and strokes it back to full tumescence.

She drops to her knees and takes Jeremy’s cock in her mouth, looking up at him with emerald-green eyes full of lust as she suckles his manhood. Jeremy gently holds her head while Stephanie uses her mouth in a practised fashion on his prong, working her lips up and down the shaft and using her tongue to nurse his glans, flicking it across his fraenulum, making his whole body shudder.

They both know that Jeremy will not be able to endure her ministrations for long and when he feels his scrotal sac begin to roil Jeremy pulls his cock from her mouth and helps Stephanie to her feet.

Jeremy picks Stephanie up and carries her to the couch where he drops her, arms and legs akimbo. Her skirt has ridden up and he growls with lust as he ogles her black satin panties. He grabs her ankles and opens her legs, putting her calves on his chest then he eases aside the gusset of her panties and hooks a finger in the gossamer nylon of her pantyhose and tears a little hole, revealing her pretty pink puckered bud. He growls again as he positions his glans in the petite, tight pink sphincter and without hesitating he pushes every millimetre of his engorged flesh inside her.

Stephanie grunts and puffs air out of her mouth and momentarily Jeremy is concerned he has hurt her but she is smiling up at him as if to say ‘it’s ok’. She feels his cock filling her void. It is almost painful because he is so engorged and so deep inside her, the Liquibeads easing his passage. Lying on her back with her ass in the air with her ankles around Jeremy’s neck she is very vulnerable. Jeremy closes his eyes. He doesn’t move and Stephanie can feel his cock pulsing and quivering inside her. He opens his mouth and mimes the word ‘sorry’ and then he lowers his face to hers and kisses her as his cock begins to judder and she can feel his scalding seed filling her anus.

Stephanie doesn’t mind one little bit because there is a wet stain spreading in the front of her panties caused by a flood of semen. Her anus is undulating around Jeremy's thick elongated weapon as he climaxes. Rings of pleasure are radiating from her sphincter and coalesce with the deep rhythmic pulses of delight diffusing from her prostate.

The lovers are climaxing together, their orgasms peaked as soon as Jeremy entered Stephanie's tight, plush rectum. He lies still on top of her while his cock quivers deep inside her, their lips crushed together, their tongues lashing, Stephanie's legs locked around Jeremy’s torso her fingers laced behind his neck. Their lust has peaked and for a while the overwhelming intensity of their orgasms is all-encompassing, then slowly, they descend as their climaxes begin to subside.

Jeremy cannot stop kissing Stephanie. He has been counting the hours, waiting for her to arrive and now that she is here he can’t stop touching her. Stephanie feels the same way. They sometimes fantasise what it would be like if Mary wasn’t in the picture. Both Jeremy and Stephanie are wealthy and Jeremy could easily support them both if Stephanie quit her job as an investment banker and transitioned and lived with him full-time. To Stephanie it is a fantasy but Jeremy believes it is a possibility. It is the only thing they argue about.

Jeremy is finally able to restrain his pursuit of pleasure and the practicalities of the situation need to be addressed. He is fully naked and Stephanie lies on the couch with her lower back arched at an acute angle, her legs pressed against Jeremy’s torso, her ankles either side of his neck. Jeremy’s still-erect penis is buried in her anus and she is still fully clothed.

This is not the first time that they have found themselves in this situation as soon as Stephanie arrives, although there are variations on the theme: Stephanie bent over the dining table, Stephanie propped on the kitchen counter, Stephanie lying under Jeremy on the floor, Stephanie pressed against the wall with her skirt hiked up.

Jeremy eases Stephanie up off the couch, lifting her with his cock still buried in her ass. She wraps her legs around his waist and grips his shoulders to assist while Jeremy carries her into the bedroom and lowers her onto the bed. She holds her skirt out of the way and giggles like a schoolgirl when Jeremy eases his penis out of her and his semen dribbles from her anus. She meekly keeps her cum-saturated panties away from her skirt as she slips into the ensuite bathroom and strips.

Jeremy brings her purse while she undresses. The semen-soaked panties and pantyhose are put aside while Jeremy takes her skirt, blouse and jacket and hangs them up. He brings her some lingerie from the little stash that Stephanie keeps at his apartment and Stephanie emerges from the bathroom a little while later with her makeup and hair fixed, wearing a burgundy satin and lace basque, matching satin panties, black fully-fashioned stockings and the same heels she arrived in.

Jeremy can hardly keep his hands off her but he manages to restrain himself while they head back to the little kitchen to drink the Grange Hermitage and catch up while their passions begin to smoulder. They will return to the bedroom and make love into the early hours until it is time for Stephanie to leave.

Stephanie leaves Jeremy sleeping, exhausted from their lovemaking; the Viagra Jeremy took made his virility particularly potent. She is bone tired too and her lips are puffy, her nipples tender and her anus feels wonderfully bruised. She is wearing the same suit that she arrived in, the panties she was wearing lying discarded on the bathroom floor, the Wolfords left behind as a present for Jeremy. She is wearing a pair of cheap Hanes pantyhose with full-cut panties over for the trip home.

The Nielsen Residence, New Rochelle, New York – The Morning After

Stephanie arrived home dog tired and made her way to the study. She used facial wipes to remove her makeup and took off her wig, brushed it and put it in a soft silk wig bag. The press-on nails were gently pried off and put in baggie to be reused. Off came the suit and with it her feminine alter ego and her existence returned to that of Stephen Nielson. The suit and blouse went into a small valise to be taken to the drycleaner and the phone was switched to silent and locked away in the compartment in the desk next to the laptop, along with the fob and garage remote. Everything else went back into the suitcase which Stephen returned to the garage and locked away. The valise went into the trunk of the Lexus.

Stephen took a very quick shower, mainly to remove the outward vestiges of makeup and the smell of perfume and he fell into bed and was instantly asleep.

Stephen and Mary were jarred awake just after ten o’clock by the sound of the doorbell. Mary had arrived home from work exhausted after her shift and kicked off her heels, shimmied out of her suit and leaving on her underwear and hosiery, she had slipped under the covers and snuggled up to her husband who was snoring softly.

“Who the fuck could that be?” Stephen got out of bed and snatched up his robe and put it on.

“I have no idea. You slept in again?” Mary looked at the digital clock on the bedside table.

“I watched a miniseries on Netflix and polished off a bottle of wine. With my wife at work there was no need to hurry to bed,” Stephen bent down and kissed Mary on the nose affectionately.

“Well come back to bed when whoever it is, is gone. I’m still wearing my pantyhose and I know you love that,” Mary flipped the covers back and then quickly pulled them closed, giving her husband a glimpse of her long legs clad in dark hosiery and her bottom clad in white nylon panties.

With her smudged makeup and tousled hair Mary looked sleepy-sexy and Stephen thought that he might get it up for her with the aid of the sildenafil still in his system despite having orgasmed numerous times with Jeremy.

When Stephen opened the door he was surprised to see two plain-clothed detectives accompanied by a small army of uniformed policemen. One of the detectives held up his badge.

“Stephen Nielsen, you are under arrest for the murder of Jeremy Wallace. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law…” the rest of the Miranda warning was lost on Stephen Nielsen as the blood drained from his head and he thought he was going to faint.

Westchester County Court – The Trial – Day One

“Detective Bolton, please tell the court what happened when you arrived at the Jeremy Wallace’s residence on the morning of October seventeenth of last year,” ADA Gerald Thatcher had called his first witness and the trial had begun.

Both Gerald Thatcher and William Sanford had made their opening remarks to the jury. Gerald Thatcher surmised his case: Stephanie Nielsen and Jeremy Wallace had been conducting a torrid affair and on the evening of the crime they had sex, then they had gotten into an argument and Stephanie Nielsen had killed Jeremy Wallace with a handgun and had fled the scene and returned home.

William Sanford’s defence was that Stephanie Nielsen had not committed the crime and the prosecution's case was based on circumstantial evidence.

Both lawyers had no intention of providing too much information to the jury just yet. The ADA would tell a sordid story of perversion, adultery, lust, deception, jealousy and rage resulting in a crime of passion. The Defence would try to counter every move the ADA made, discredit any evidence presented and all witnesses called by the prosecution.

There had been much speculation regarding the trial in the press. A transwoman who was once a highly respected, wealthy, married, businessman accused of murdering her lover who was also a highly respected and wealthy man was grist for the tabloid mill, especially because Stephanie remained married to Mary and Mary remained stoically convinced of her spouse’s innocence.

“A neighbour reported gunshots in the Franklin Manor cooperative and officers arrived at the scene and were let into Jeremy Wallace’s apartment by the super. They found Jeremy Wallace’s naked body shot dead. A snub-nosed .38 Smith and Wesson handgun was found next to the victim and the officers called it in. I responded with my partner and a forensics team and we began investigating,” Detective Lionel Bolton began his testimony.

“While the crime scene officers collected forensic evidence I had the building superintendent bring up the security video and we identified a black Lexus parked directly behind Mr Wallace’s BMW in the underground garage. My partner and I observed what appeared to be a female dressed in a dark suit and purple blouse leave the vehicle and take the elevator to apartment 3F at 2135. We observed her leaving the apartment at 0330 the following morning. Several traffic cameras on the I-95 and I-287 held digital imagery of the vehicle travelling those routes at times which correspond with the accused vehicle arriving and departing her residence and the apartment on Franklin Avenue,” Lionel Bolton explained.

“So the number plates of the Lexus caught on the cameras in the apartment block matched the same plates and vehicle type caught on traffic cameras along the route from New Rochelle and White Plains and the timing corresponds to the time of the murder,” Gerald Thatcher came close to leading the witness but William Sanford did not object.

His strategy was not to antagonise the judge and the jury by constantly interrupting. That methodology works well on TV but not in real life.

“What else did you find that led you to believe that Stephanie Neilson was a suspect?” the ADA asked.

“At that stage not much else. We found a pair of discarded pantyhose and a pair of satin panties heavily soiled with semen. The bedsheets were stained with makeup and semen and we found a small amount of lingerie in one of the drawers and speculated that it might belong to a lover. At this stage we thought that we were looking for a woman you understand,” Detective Bolton said confidently.

“When did you decide that Stephanie Nielsen, who then identified as Stephen Neilson, was a suspect?” the ADA asked.

“After we ran the plates we identified Stephen Nielsen as the registered owner of the Lexus and at first we suspected that his wife may have borrowed his car but we checked the hospital where Mary Nielsen worked overnight as the duty administrator and confirmed that she had been at work all evening and that she had used her own vehicle that evening,” Lionel Bolton settled back into the witness chair.

“While we were doing that one the CSIs ran a set of latent prints found on the handgun through the Automated Fingerprint Identification System and AFIS came back with a positive hit on Stephen Nielsen, now known as Stephanie Nielsen. The serial number of the thirty-eight was run through the handgun register and it came back registered to Stephen Nielsen,” Lionel Bolton looked smug.

“We carefully examined the video taken in the apartment complex and decided that the woman we were observing could possibly be a man wearing female attire. At this stage we did not realise that this was a crime of passion and assumed that Stephen Nielsen had dressed as a woman as a disguise,” Lionel Bolton glared across the courtroom at the defendant.

“Objection your honour, the witness’s claim that the murder was a crime of passion has not been established,” William Sanford got to his feet.

“Overruled, you will get to test the witnesses assumptions under cross, councillor,” Judge Vogel replied.

“What did you and your partner do then?” the ADA asked.

“Using the video footage, the fingerprints, the firearms registration and identification of the defendant’s vehicle as reasonable grounds, Judge McGregor issued an arrest warrant for Stephen Nielsen around eight in the morning and I put together an arrest team and proceeded to the defendant's residence,” Detective Bolton replied straightforwardly.

“What was the rush detective?” ADA Thatcher was anticipating a challenge by the defence that the arrest of Stephanie Nielsen and the search of her domicile was pre-emptive.

Although the arrest and search had already been deemed legitimate by Judge Vogel in pre-trial deliberations, Gerald Thatcher was sure that William Sanford would raise the matter anyway to put it before the jury.

“Stephanie Nielsen is a rich woman, or at that time a rich man, and we considered her a flight risk. Also, we had concerns that she might destroy or hide evidence,” Lionel Bolton answered.

“What evidence did you find initially at the Nielsen residence?” the ADA asked.

“We found a suitcase hidden in the garage containing large quantities of female apparel including shoes, wigs and cosmetics. Also in the suitcase we found a douche, personal lubricant and a quantity of Viagra and an anti-viral drug known colloquially as PrEP. In the defendant’s study we found a concealed compartment in the desk inside of which was a laptop, a cellular phone, a remote control door opener and an electronic key fob,” Lionel Bolton smiled at the jury; they knew that the contents of the laptop and the phone would be juicy and that they could hardly wait to hear about it.

“Anything in particular that caught your attention at this stage?” the ADA smiled at his witness.

“A ladies suit and blouse was found in a valise in the defendant’s car which appeared to match the clothing worn by the murder suspect, and one of the wigs in the suitcase also appeared to match the hair worn by the suspect,” Detective Bolton smiled back.

“Did the defendant say anything to you or other members of your team at that time?” the ADA was about done.

“The defendant called out to his wife Mary Nielsen to contact their lawyer and then invoked his right to silence. We received a call from Edward Trent, identifying himself as the Nielsen family solicitor who advised us that Stephen Nielsen was represented by him and we were not to question the defendant without representation being present,” Lionel Bolton shifted in his seat, ready to leave unless he was cross-examined.

“One final thing Detective. You have used both male and female pronouns and the names Stephen and Stephanie when referring to the dependent. This might appear strange to the jury. Why is that?” Gerald Thatcher was skating on thin ice here but he wanted to get in another blow.

“The defendant initially identified himself as Stephen Nielsen, a male who sometimes presented as a woman named Stephanie. She has since undergone gender assignment surgery and changed her name legally to Stephanie. We were ordered to refer to the defendant only as Stephanie and use feminine pronouns except in the context of describing her actions, conduct and conversations prior to her gender reassignment,” Lionel Bolton smirked at the jury as if to imply ‘what the fuck?’

William Sanford resisted the urge to object but it would only assist the DA’s strategy which was to imply that Stephanie was some kind of freak or degenerate.

“I have only two questions for the witness your honour,” William Sanford began his cross.

“Was the snub-nosed .38 Smith and Wesson handgun registered to Stephen Nielsen that was found at the scene reported stolen prior to the murder?” William asked.

“Sure it was but it wouldn’t be the first time that a suspect has reported a gun stolen and then used it to commit murder,” Lionel Bolton smirked at William.

William briefly considered objecting that witness’s reply was non-responsive but he figured that any reasonable person could make the same conclusion.

“Did you investigate anyone else for the murder or did the police put all of their resources into making a case against my client? It seems that you didn’t,” William suppressed his anger.

“We couldn’t find anybody else with means and opportunity. We questioned a number of people who all had alibis, but to be honest, outside of work, Jeremy Wallace had few friends and no enemies that we could find. The evidence spoke for itself,” Lionel Bolton sounded pissed that he had even been asked the question.

William sat down and quietly fumed.

Astrid Nielson’s Residence, Long Island, New York – Fifteen Years Earlier

“Come down for dinner Stephen,” Stephen Nielsen’s mother called up the stairs.

Astrid Nielsen thought that her son spent a lot of time alone in his room but so did most teenagers. She was still worried about the ladies underwear, clothing and makeup she had found hidden in her son’s bedroom but she didn’t dare confront Stephen about it. At eighteen years of age her son was rebellious and libel to leave home if he thought that his mother didn’t trust him and since the death of her husband two years earlier and despite her wealth, Stephen was all she had.

“I’ll be down soon mother,” Stephen called through the locked door.

Stephen was wearing sheer-to-the-waist pantyhose, nylon panties and a satin full-slip. He was staring at a screen and masturbating, watching the crossdresser porn star Karen Dior being buggered by a virile young man. Karen was wearing vintage lingerie, fully fashioned stockings, ridiculously-high heels, heavy makeup and a blonde bob. She looked like she was enjoying every second of it and Stephen wished he was in Karen’s place.

Like most crossdressers he had discovered a fascination with ladies underwear and hosiery at an early age and had snuck into laundry baskets at home and at friends and relatives domiciles to sneak out panties and nylons to fondle and eventually to wear. He soon realised that this was fraught with danger and began to compile his own collection. Magazines depicting men dressed as women engaging in sex were not easy to find but then the internet exploded and the kind of porn he liked was readily available.

Stephen soon realised that it was not just the silky sensuous underwear and hosiery that attracted him, he wanted to dress fully as a woman and he bought cosmetics, shoes and clothing and even found a half-decent blonde wig. When his mother was away he would dress fully as his alter-ego Stephanie, parade around the house pretending to be a girl, and log into his favourite porn sites and get off watching crossdressers having sex with men.

He would end each session masturbating until climax and then he would undress, feeling a little ashamed but mostly desultory because he dearly wanted to meet others who were aficionados of his fetish.

Stephen pulled down the waistband of his pantyhose and slipped an old crusty nylon over his cock and began to stroke it, timing his climax just as the man on the screen emptied his sac into Karen Dior’s asshole.

He cleaned up and changed into appropriate attire and joined his mother for dinner.

Stephen went away to college at Rutgers University and that was when things really changed for him. Coming from a wealthy family Stephen was able to rent his own apartment where he could become Stephanie whenever he wanted. Stephanie worked hard developing her femme persona and style. She preferred a more sophisticated look but could look trashy-sexy too. She spent hours in online chatrooms, she joined crossdressing websites and watched trans and crossdresser porn until eventually she summoned the courage to actually meet someone for sex.

In a chatroom she developed a friendship with another crossdresser who used the online sobriquet Tessa Teases which Stephanie thought was a little twee but she was too excited to be meeting another of her kind to be concerned about how silly Tessa’s name sounded.

Stephanie was dressed for sex because Tessa was not coming around for coffee and a chat after all. Stephanie wore a blue satin basque, trimmed with lace. Long black fully-fashioned stockings were attached to the garters and she wore blue satin bikini panties. Her makeup was heavy and she wore a blonde bouffant wig. Stephanie had developed a passion for Dior Poison perfume and had drowned herself in it before she met Terrance Bigalow at the front door to her little apartment. Terrance was carrying a backpack with his female accoutrements inside.

As agreed, Terrance went straight to the bedroom and transformed into Tessa, emerging forty minutes later looking quite stunning dressed in a red silk peignoir, matching panties, sheer nude stockings and red high heels. She was wearing a black, blunt-cut bob and her makeup was just as heavy as Stephanie's. Tessa looked nothing like Terrance but why should she; Stephanie looked nothing like Stephen either.

Tessa was about ten years older than Stephanie and very experienced. Tessa took the lead and stepped up to Stephanie and looked deeply into her green eyes.

“Are you ok? I know this is your first time,” Tessa’s voice was husky and sexy.

“I’m nervous. I just let a stranger into my apartment and we are both dressed as women for the sole intention of having sex,” Stephanie admitted.

“Did you prepare like I told you to. We don’t have to go that far if you don’t want to,” Tessa gently stroked Stephanie's cheek.

“My god you are beautiful. If I saw you on the street I would think you were nothing other than a gorgeous sexy young woman,” Tessa leaned in and kissed Stephanie on the side of the mouth.

“You are very beautiful yourself. I’ve thought long and hard about this and I want to go through with it,” Stephanie whispered.

“Speaking of long and hard; I can see that you are eager,” Tessa put out her hand and stroked Stephanie’s burgeoning erection through her panties.

The front of Stephanie's panties was already damp with pre-seminal juices. When Tessa kissed her softly Stephanie thought she had gone to heaven. The kiss was long, lingering and gentle and Tessa softly caressed Stephanie’s cock while they kissed until it became fully tumescent. The kiss became more impassioned and Stephanie allowed herself to drown in the sensations she was experiencing. It was everything she had ever dreamed of. Why had she waited so long?

The taste of Tessa’s lipstick, the scent of her cloying perfume, the feel of her silky peignoir pressing against Stephanie’s satin basque, the swish of their nylons as Tessa rubbed a leg against Stephanie’s was a sensory pastiche that Stephanie had long anticipated but never dreamed could feel so wonderful. She tentatively reached for Tessa’s cock and found it magnificently tumescent with a rod-like shaft and spongy glans. It was the first penis that she ever touched beside her own and already she was besotted with it. She fondled, caressed and stroked it, taking her lead from Tessa.

Tessa pulled Stephanie into a passionate embrace and slipped her tongue into Stephanie’s sweet mouth and eased Stephanie's cock out of her panties and stroked it. Tessa smiled as Stephanie gasped into her mouth and then Tessa felt Stephanie’s cock judder followed by the scalding splash of hot semen on her legs.

Stephanie had orgasmed.

“I’m sorry,” Stephanie whimpered.

“Not at all, I came very quickly my first time too. I take it as a compliment. Let me wipe my legs then we can have a glass of wine and you can recover and we can start all over again. I know that you are going to love it. I’m damn sure I am,” Tessa kissed Stephanie and eased out her embrace so she could clean up.

While Tessa was in the bathroom dabbing tissues on her nylons Stephanie opened a bottle of wine and thought about what had just happened. There was no doubt that she was feeling some kind of post-coital regret. She was after all a young man dressed as a young woman and had just had sex with an older man also dressed as a woman. She shook her head and cleared her thoughts of any notion that Tessa was anything other than a beautiful sexy woman who just happened to have a penis.

The couple retired to the couch and after a short refractory period Stephanie was ready to resume their tryst. They took their time kissing, fondling and stroking each other, relishing the feel of their femme bodies pressed together while they kissed. Tessa went down on Stephanie and fellated her and Stephanie enjoyed every second of it. Stephen had girlfriends and was not inexperienced when it came to receiving oral gratification but Stephanie had never sucked a cock. She finally got around to taking Tessa’s cock in her mouth and it was everything she hoped it would be.

Stephanie had never felt more feminine as she did when she tentatively closed her lips around Tessa’s throbbing organ. She used the techniques that she had experienced as the receiver of oral delights and Tessa’s moans and groans seemed to indicate that she was quite a decent fellatrix. When Tessa’s cock suddenly discharged in her mouth, Stephanie was a little surprised. The musky, salty milt that Tessa expressed into Stephanie’s mouth was not at all unpleasant and Stephanie drained every last drop from Tessa’s pulsing organ.

Tessa lay Stephanie down on the couch and returned the favour, taking her time, fellating her new-found girlfriend to climax while stroking her stocking-sheathed thighs and caressing her panty-clad scrotum.

They drank more wine and chatted. This time Stephanie did not feel any post-coital regret. They were two girlfriends chatting about clothes, makeup, acquaintances they both knew in the online chatrooms, some of whom Tessa had met in person.

“So, is it really that wonderful?” Stephanie asked.

They had been discussing anal sex.

“There is nothing more intimate,” Tessa replied.

“Do you really think you are ready?” Tessa asked and made a hand gesture toward the bedroom.

“Be gentle,” Stephanie whispered and smiled seductively at Tessa who took her hand and led Stephanie into the bedroom.

“Get on the bed,” Tessa patted the coverlet and Stephanie obliged.

“I think we will try doggy style first if you would please get on your hands and knees,” Tessa kissed Stephanie passionately and then Stephanie assumed the position.

Stephanie was shaking in both trepidation and anticipation when she felt Tessa take up position behind her.

Stephanie felt Tessa's cock press into the crevice between her buttocks and she could feel the girth of Tessa’s phallus fretting on her bottom, Tessa’s cock pushing Stephanie’s satin panties into her natal cleft.

It felt quite stimulating but there was also an undercurrent of powerlessness and of surrender, kneeling like that with someone behind you, pressing their cock into your most vulnerable place. Stephanie shuddered in anticipation when Tessa eased aside the gusset of her panties.

Tessa pressed her cock against Stephanie’s sphincter and Stephanie clenched when she felt Tessa's turgid prong probing her anus and then she felt Tessa apply the cool salve of the emollient on her pink tight entrance. Stephanie instinctively bucked a little when Tessa applied a gobbet of the lubricant to her finger and then slid it inside Stephanie’s puckered bud. Her sphincter clamped around the digit as Tessa eased it in and out of her anus, opening it up.

Stephanie concentrated on relaxing her sphincter, keeping her body still, with her ass raised high in the air, her legs apart, prepared to be deflowered.

She felt Tessa edge closer, their stockings hissed as Tessa’s thighs pressing against hers. Then she felt the protuberance of Tessa’s sex nestle in her crinkled spherule and she stifled a moan as Tessa began to slide her steely hard penis into Stephanie’s tight anus. Stephanie's face screwed up in pain and she hissed as she tried her best to loosen her sphincter as Tessa's long, sleek cock distended her anus.

"That's it Stephanie, just relax and take it. It’s going to start to feel good I promise," Tessa cooed.

Tessa had to hold back her orgasm as she slid her cock into Stephanie's virgin anus. Stephanie’s sphincter was so tight that it gripped her penis like a velvet glove as Tessa drove it into her. When Tessa had the full length of her penis inside Stephanie’s rectum she paused. Both Tessa and Stephanie were breathing heavily, one in pain, the other in ecstasy.

"Keep still babe and don't move until you get used to it," Tessa whispered.

Stephanie did as she was told and knelt on the bed with Tessa's bloated penis deep inside her until gradually she was able to relax her postural muscles and slacken her sphincter a little so that the searing pain subsided into a dull throb. Stephanie could feel Tessa's cock pulsating inside her and sensed that Tessa was close to extremis. Stephanie wriggled her buttocks indicating that she was ready and Tessa slowly began to fuck Stephanie, easing her cock almost all the way out of her anus and then sliding it all the way back inside her, relishing the tightness of her velvety tunnel.

Stephanie felt Tessa's cock sliding in and out of her rectum, the lubricant fulfilling its purpose, easing the way for her cock. She felt Tessa’s stocking-clad thighs pressing against hers and she felt her buttocks quiver whenever Tessa pushed it all the way inside her. Stephanie’s sphincter stretched to accommodate Tessa’s bloated organ and then Stephanie felt a deep resonance as Tessa’s glans pressed against her prostate.

Stephanie was hyper aware of their femininity: the feel of her satin basque caressing her body, the delightful sensation of their nylons flittering against each other’s, the scent of their perfume comingling, the taste of her lipstick and the scent of her makeup. Stephanie felt very submissive kneeling supplicant on the bed, Tessa holding her by the hips with her rampant penis inside her, Stephanie’s back arched and her buttocks raised, pressing back against Tessa’s silken pantied groin as Tessa drove her phallus deep into Stephanie’s tight clunge.

Tessa became aware that Stephanie was no longer restrained and she fucked Stephanie a little faster. Tessa admired Stephanie's plump buttocks clad in her slinky panties; her long stocking-sheathed legs splayed open so that she could accept Tessa’s cock. Tessa felt her scrotum begin to roil as it slapped against Stephanie's silken-gusseted buttocks and her cock began to quiver as her orgasm approached.

Stephanie felt the change in Tessa. She was holding Stephanie tighter, digging her fingers into her hips as she began to fuck Stephanie harder and faster. Sparklets of pleasure radiated from Stephanie's sphincter, her anus felt wonderfully full, luxuriant warmth emanated from the spongy mass of her rectum and the most intense carnal gratification was building in her prostate.

Tessa pulled Stephanie back tight against her, her pelvis pressing against Stephanie’s buttocks, her silken-shrouded thighs grating against Stephanie’s and Stephanie felt Tessa's cock judder and she realised that Tessa was ejaculating. Stephanie could hear Tessa’s ragged breathing, feel her cock fully distend and begin to pulse as Tessa unloaded her seed deep inside her.

Stephanie pushed back obligingly and wriggled her ass; her cock was tingling and her prostate jangling. Suddenly Stephanie was in extremis and her cock juddered inside her panties and she ejaculated. Waves of pleasure radiated from her anus and joined the ripples of delight emanating from her penis. Stephanie had achieved climax without touching her cock.

"Yes baby, I knew you would love it," Tessa mewled as she slammed her cock all the way inside Stephanie and collapsed on top of her.

Stephanie’s legs gave out and she lay flat on the bed with Tessa's weight on top of her, grinding her pelvis into her soft satin-sheathed buttocks, her cock quivering as the last of Tessa’s issue burst forth, deep inside Stephanie's tight anus. Tessa kissed Stephanie’s neck and held her tight, delighting in the feel of Stephanie’s tight rectum enveloping her turgid organ.

The two transbian lovers lay like that until finally Tessa’s cock slipped out of Stephanie’s spunk-filled cleft. Tessa rolled Stephanie over and lay on top her kissing her, their cum-soaked panties and silken-clad libs rubbing against each other’s as they kissed and canoodled.

“You do this with guys too, right?” Stephanie asked.

“Yeah, I told you in the chatroom that I meet with other crossdressers and men who like crossdressers whom I refer to as admirers,” Tessa admitted.

“I think I’d like to try that. I love us being together and don’t get me wrong, but my fantasies have also involved a man treating me like a lady. You know, a lady in the living room and a whore in the bedroom,” Stephanie blushed.

“Wow! You just had your first transbian fuck and already you want to get it on with a guy?” Tessa chuckled.

“What’s it like?” Stephanie looked questioningly into Tessa’s eyes.

Tessa paused and considered the question.

“It’s fucking awesome,” she giggled.

“Where do you meet guys who like girls like us? Most of the chatroom members are other CDs and TVs. There aren’t many men and the ones online always seem to live too far away or are reluctant to meet in person,” Stephanie inquired.

Again Tessa paused and wondered if Stephanie was ready to get out there and start meeting random guys. She guessed that it was up to Stephanie to decide.

“Have you ever heard of Craigslist?” Tessa asked.

Westchester County Court – The Trial – Day One

“Please state your name and occupation to the court,” ADA Gerald Thatcher was about to introduce his second witness.

“I am Doctor Richard Webb, the senior Crime Scene Unit Forensic Technician and head of the Forensic Identification Unit,” Richard identified himself and his role.

“For the jury and the court can you explain your duties?” the ADA asked.

“Well unlike what you might have seen on television where the criminalists are called Crime Scene Investigators or CSIs, in real life, the actual title for this position is Crime Scene Unit Forensic Technician,” Richard explained.

“My technicians typically process major case crime scenes, such as homicide and suspicious death investigations, or robberies. At the crime scene, the primary responsibility of the FIU is evidence recognition, documentation, collection, and preservation. I am also responsible for presenting physical evidence in court proceedings,” Richard continued.

“So to summarise, you are here today to present all of the forensic evidence gathered by the coroner, the FIU and other agencies employed to process said evidence,” Gerald Thatcher turned to the jury and saw that most of them were nodding their heads to express their understanding.

“Please begin with physical evidence collected from Stephanie Nielsen and Jeremy Wallace,” Gerald Thatcher was looking forward to this.

Things were about to get funky.

“Certainly. Ms Nielsen, or as she was known then Mr Nielsen, was subject to a forensic body and cavity search in accordance with the bench warrant issued by Judge McGregor who had also issued the arrest warrant. We found skin fragments under the accused fingernails and under press-on false fingernails found in a baggie in the suitcase found in the garage,” Richard began his testimony.

“DNA matched the skin fragments to the deceased and after examining of the deceased body I determined that the skin likely came from the deceased back where there were scratches present. Similar minute skin fragments were also found on the heel cap of a pair of high heels which we concluded had caused the abrasions on Jeremy Wallace’s abdomen,” Richard pointed to enlarged photographs of the fingernails and shoes and the scratches on Jeremy Wallace’s body.

The enlarged photographs were mounted on an easel for all to see whilst a folder containing the original pictures was circulated to the jury.

“What conclusions did you make regarding this evidence?” the ADA asked.

“We concluded that the most likely scenario was that the scratches found on the deceased occurred during vigorous sex,” Richard Webb looked over at the defence table expecting an objection but none was forthcoming.

“What else did you find of relevance?” Gerald Thatcher asked.

“We found Jeremy Wallace’s semen inside Ms Nielsen’s anus and trace amounts of Ms Nielsen’s semen on Jeremy Wallace’s body. Jeremy Wallace’s semen was also found on some hosiery, lingerie and clothing that Ms Nielsen later admitted was hers. Semen belonging to Jeremy Wallace and Ms Nielsen was also found on the bedsheets,” Richard pointed to pictures of said clothing and bed sheets.

For the first time in the trial Stephanie Nielsen reacted. She showed distaste when Richard Webb mentioned the semen found in her anus.

“A ballistic report confirmed that the deceased was killed by five bullets fired from the snub-nosed .38 Smith and Wesson handgun found at the scene. There was no muzzle stamp or gunshot residue found on the deceased body so we concluded that weapon had been fired at a distance of at least two meters, say six feet, from the victim while he lay on the bed,” the court and jury were now treated to pictures of Jeremy Wallace’s blood-soaked corpse lying on the bed.

“Fingerprint evidence?” Gerald Thatcher gave Richard Webb free reign; there was no need to drag the testimony out of him.

Stephanie Nielsen had already stipulated during an interview conducted in the company of her counsel that she had gone to Jeremy Wallace’s apartment and that they had sex.

“Ms Nielsen’s fingerprints were found on numerous surfaces and on glassware in Jeremy Wallace’s apartment but most importantly they were found on the murder weapon,” Richard Webb turned to face the jury to offer his response so that they understood the importance of it.

Gerald Thatcher let Richard Webb continue to provide forensic evidence until he saw the jury was becoming bored then he cut him off and tended the witness.

William Sanford finally arose from behind the defence’s table to conduct his cross-examination. He was tall, dark-haired, slim, broad-shouldered and incredibly handsome. He projected an aura of confidence and masculinity.

“Doctor Webb, you concluded the skin found under my client’s nails and shoes matched scratches on the Mister Wallace's body and determined that they were likely caused during sex and were not defence wounds caused in a struggle, is that correct?” William began.

“That’s correct counsellor,” Richard Webb said stiffly.

“There was no evidence of a fight or a struggle at the crime scene or on the victim and defendant’s bodies?” William continued.

“No,” Richard answered stiffly.

“And no blood traces were found on the clothing worn by my client, or on her body?” William asked, knowing the importance of the question.

“No there wasn’t but if she had been standing at a distance of two meters away when the gun was fired, as determined by crime scene analysis, there wouldn’t be,” Richard answered smugly.

“And no gunshot residue, GSR as you call it, was found on my client or the clothes she was wearing. How do you explain that?” William had scored a point.

“If the pistol was held at arm’s length when the shots were fired the GSR might not transfer onto her clothing or she could have been naked when the shots were fired. The accused had also showered before she went to bed that night,” Richard was smug.

“But during the forensic exam, minute traces of mascara, eyeliner and lipstick were found on my client and you stated that you found semen in her anus and skin under her fingernails. Would that not conclude that the shower was short and desultory?” William Sanford countered.

“I have no idea how long your client showered or how she washed herself. I can only submit to the court the evidence that was found, not what wasn’t found,” Richard Webb showed a little anger.

“You mean to tell the court that my client fired all five rounds into Jeremy Wallace’s body and no trace of GSR or the defendant’s blood transferred onto her clothing or her body?” William hammered home his point.

“Objection. Asked and answered your Honor,” Gerald Thatcher got to his feet.

“She could have been wearing gloves,” Richard Webb growled his answer before the judge ruled on the objection which played directly into William Sanford’s hands.

Judge Vogel just shrugged. The witness had provided an answer before she could rule on the objection so now Richard Webb would have to defend his answer. Gerald Thatcher glowered at Richard Webb. He did not want to go down this route.

“Did you find any gloves at my client’s house or in her car?” William Sanford closed in for the attack, prepared for the witness’s response.

“No but she could have disposed of them at any time after the murder,” Richard Webb huffed.

“So you propose that my client wore gloves to protect her hands from GSR but still managed to leave her fingerprints on the gun?” William smiled at Richard Webb and watched his face turn red.

“No further questions your Honor,” William Sanford said before Richard Webb could answer.

Gerald Thatcher shot to his feet.

“Redirect your Honor. Is it possible that Ms Nielsen, knowing that the gun was registered to her, didn’t bother to wipe down the gun before she went to Jeremy Wallace’s apartment but wore gloves specifically to prevent the transfer of GSR to her hands and disposed of the gloves after she left the apartment?” the ADA asked, trying to stifle his frustration.

“That is not only possible, it is likely, especially if the defendant wanted to confuse the investigators,” Richard Webb wore a self-satisfied smugness on his face that did not sit well with the jury.

Ante Room - Westchester County Court – The Trial – Day One

“How did we do?” Stephanie Nielsen asked William Sanford during the break.

Stephanie had been told to wear a simple suit and low heels and to tone down her makeup for the trial. She had done all these things but she still looked stunningly beautiful. She’d had breast implants and a little facial feminisation surgery as part of her transition but that was all. Sensibly, she had elected to have small breasts prosthesis inserted rather than the huge mammaries that some transgender women chose. She was small in stature, slim-waisted, wide-hipped and long-legged. Even dressed in her drab suit she exuded sensuality.

Mary Nielsen sat beside her spouse. She too was a stunning mature woman and pictures of the two together had dominated the tabloids now that the trial had begun. The tabloids had nicknamed them ‘The Sister Wives’ and speculated as to why a cis woman would remain married to her ‘husband’ after he had transitioned into a transwoman, especially given that Stephanie had been charged with killing her lover and her admission of serial adultery.

“I’d say we are doing ok. There was no point cross examining Detective Bolton further. We are not denying that you were at Jeremy Wallace’s apartment and that you had sex with him on the night of the murder. His evidence just confirmed what we have already stipulated,” William Sanford steepled his fingers under his chin.

“Even the police admitted that their initial claim that you were dressed as a woman as some kind of disguise was bogus,” William nodded thoughtfully.

“I think I did a good job of discrediting their claim that you wore gloves to prevent GSR transfer and their explanation as to why the victim’s blood was not found on the clothes you were wearing,” William was trying to convince himself, not just Stephanie that the trial was going well for them.

“They have established means to commit the crime because your gun was used to kill Jeremy Wallace and they have established opportunity because you admit being at the crime scene at the time of the offence and they have the video footage of you arriving and leaving,” William nodded thoughtfully.

“Next will come motive and this is where the outcome of the trial will be determined. I can’t prevent them from presenting the damning evidence the investigators found on your laptop and cell phone. You are going to have to take the stand to rebut any allegations and put the evidence they present in context,” William smiled grimly at Stephanie.

“You have done a fantastic job so far sticking with Stephanie, sitting behind her in the court, refusing to comment to the press but it’s about to get messy in there Mary. Stephanie really needs you to stand by her now,” William turned to Mary Nielsen.

“I’m already being painted as the cuckold wife whose husband was secretly crossdressing and having sex with men. I’m being pilloried in the media. My family have all but disowned me. My job is on the line and I have no idea how I’ll get another if I’m fired. I’m a laughingstock,” Mary wrung her hands and held back tears.

“I’ll stand by you Stephen, at least I will until the trial is over. I can’t wait until I divorce you and can move on with my life,” Mary’s composure leading up to and during the trial had been demure and supportive when she was in public but in the privacy of the meeting room she vented her anger and outrage.

Mary stood up, grabbed her things and stormed out of the room, putting a false pleasant smile on her face and offering a polite ‘no comment’ to the small army of reporters crowding the corridors of the courtroom.

William locked the door and approached Stephanie Nielsen who was standing, looking embittered. She didn’t know what had hurt her more, Mary’s vexation or her use of Stephanie’s male name. Since the morning of Stephanie’s arrest Mary had been openly supportive in public but in private she had been angry and indignant, especially when the truth concerning Stephanie’s secret life was exposed. Mary had even accused Stephanie of undertaking gender reassignment only as a means of gaining sympathy.

“Come here,” William took Stephanie in his arms and let her cry on his shoulder.

“Are you going to save me William?” Stephanie looked pleadingly into William’s dark brown eyes; her own emerald green eyes were flooded with tears.

“Of course I am my love,” William whispered and kissed Stephanie with unreserved ardour.

The Law Practice of Trent, Marshall and Dunne, New Rochelle, New York – Six Months Before The Trial

“Thanks for taking the meeting,” Edward Trent said to William Sanford.

They were sitting in a small meeting room at the law firm of Trent, Marshall and Dunne.

“What can I do for you Ed?” William asked, getting straight to the point.

“I have a client who needs a criminal attorney. My firm has represented the Nielsen family for three generations but we do not handle criminal law of this magnitude. I need a specialist to take the case,” Edward explained.

“A crime of what magnitude Ed? Get to the point,” William Sanford was a busy man.

“I need somebody to represent Stephanie Nielsen at her murder trial,” Edward got to the point.

“You mean the crossdressing freak who killed his lover? You’ve got to be kidding,” William did not try to disguise his distaste.

“You mean the transgender woman wrongfully accused of killing her lover,” Edward corrected him.

“You can change pronouns and put your client in a Versace dress for all I care. The case is going to be a mess. The press are already all over it and from what I’ve heard, the DA has got enough evidence to send her away for life,” William Sanford replied.

The door to the meeting room opened and a petite woman wearing a dark tailored skirt-suit entered. She had blonde hair and stunning features and it was impossible not to look at her long legs sheathed in shimmery glossy tan nylons as she strode the short distance across the room and sat down beside Edward Trent. She smoothed the hem of her skirt, which rested just above her knees. A miasma of Dior Poison perfume drifted across the room.

“I’m the crossdressing freak accused of killing her lover. Stephanie Nielsen, pleased to meet you,” Stephanie’s smile was charming, her luscious red lips formed an overbite as she extended her hand in greeting.

Her fingers were long, elegant and tipped with manicured red nails.

William took her hand and gently squeezed it. He was unable to speak, which for a lawyer was almost unheard of.

“I’m not wearing Versace but I hope I look presentable,” Stephanie self-consciously licked her top lip, not realising the effect it had on the two men in the room.

“I’m sorry Ms Nielsen, I didn’t mean to insult you,” William stammered.

“I stopped being a crossdressing freak when I legally changed my name and gender. I also had a little work done,” Stephanie gave the two men a cheeky grin.

“Edward tells me that in this room I enjoy attorney-client privilege. Why don’t I tell you my side of the story and you can decide for yourself if you want to take my case,” Stephanie suddenly became serious.

“I’ll leave you two alone to speak in private. I’ll have my girl send in some coffee,” Edward arose and left the room.

William Sanford had never felt so uncomfortable in his life. He was immediately attracted to the stunning woman sitting across from him whilst at the same time repulsed. He swallowed and nodded at Stephanie, tacitly agreeing to hear her story.

“Let’s begin with ‘the night of’. That’s law enforcement parlance for the evening of the crime,” William began to regain his composure.

Stephanie told William everything about the evening of the murder: waiting for Mary to leave for work, transforming at home, driving to Jeremy Wallace’s apartment, having sex on multiple occasions, driving home, changing back into her male persona and the police arriving around ten in the morning.

She left nothing out but didn’t go into great detail about the sex acts themselves; just that she and Jeremy had sex in the lounge room and the bedroom.

“Ok. But let me get my head around this Ms Nielsen. At the time you were a man who dressed like a woman for the purposes of sexual gratification?” William tried to hide his disgust at the notion.

“That is far too simple an explanation. I didn’t just dress like Stephanie. I became her. My whole psyche changed when I transformed into Stephanie. She was like another person, the real me if you like, who existed in Stephen Nielsen's body,” Stephanie tried to explain.

“Well if I take the case you are going to have to explain all that to jury so they understand and are sympathetic to your state of mind at that time. What about this now?” William circled his finger pointing at Stephanie’s body.

“I was a woman trapped in a man’s body as I said. My gender dysphoria goes back to my childhood. You will need to talk to my phycologist and my family doctor to get a full understanding of what that is,” Stephanie’s lips began to tremble.

“Anyway, two months ago I had some gender reassignment surgery. I had breast implants, a tracheal shave and I also had a little work done on my face, and I had my hair bleached, not much really, pretty much what you see is what you get,” Stephanie gave a curt smile.

“Changing one’s name and gender in New York State is a lot easier than most people would think. You can amend your gender designation on your birth certificate by submitting an application and copies of the required documents to the Vital Records Call Center. You can update your gender on your driver’s licence either online or in DMV offices. It’s that simple,” Stephanie explained.

“Ok, but what about your friends, family and your wife, how do they feel about it?” William asked.

“Well that’s another matter entirely. If you take my case, my wife Mary will agree to an interview and is prepared to give testimony if you need her to. I think it’s best if I let her speak for herself,” Stephanie became a little morose.

Stephanie reached into her purse and produced two glossy photographs and put them on the table.

“This was me then. This is me now,” she pointed to the pictures of Stephen Nielsen, a smallish handsome man dressed in a business suit and Stephanie Nielsen, a beautiful petite woman wearing a women’s version of the same suit.

“I have the money Mister Sanford. If you can put your prejudices aside and just treat me like any other client I’m sure you can prove me innocent of the crime that I have been charged with. All I want is the best legal counsel available,” Stephanie looked at William levelly.

“I have no prejudices Ms Nielsen. I take cases on their merit and on the ability of my client to pay my fees. I’m a criminal defence attorney. I have defended some of the most depraved individuals in the state of New York,” William countered.

“I heard what you said before I entered the room and I saw the way you looked at me. I’m getting used to it. Men find me physically attractive but most of them suddenly find me repulsive when they find out that I’m a transgender woman. We only need to have a client-attorney relationship. I know that you will never really like me but think of the publicity you and your firm will enjoy. It’s already a high profile case and I haven’t even been to court yet except to be indicted and to have my bail set,” Stephanie smiled wanly.

“I’m sorry if my prejudices are so apparent to you. I suppose I just don’t understand the whole concept of a man pretending to be a woman,” William replied.

He saw Stephanie’s demeanour change instantly. He saw anger roil in her face as she lost composure and her body tensed and her respiration increased.

“You can never look like that when I put you on the stand. The DA is going to attack you and you will need to keep your composure and stifle your anger,” William said levelly.

“Does that mean you are going to take my case?” Stephanie relaxed and once again became demure.

“I didn’t say that. I’ll get Edward to send the case files over to my office and I’ll review the evidence. From now on you speak to no one except to me about the case until after the trial. Stay away from the media and instruct your wife to do the same. If I do take the case you will need to deposit a retainer with my firm before I start to formulate your defence,” William stood up and picked his briefcase up off the table.

“Thank you,” the relief in Stephanie’s voice was evident.

“I haven’t said yes yet,” William countered.

Stephanie also arose and moved out from behind the conference table and offered her hand. William shook it and made his way to the door.

“You can wipe your hand on your trousers William. I won’t be offended,” Stephanie gave him a twee smile.

“Fuck!” William muttered under his breath when he left the office and strode purposely toward the bank of elevators.

He wiped his hand vigorously on his thigh as he waited for the car.

To be continued…

Crimes of Passion - Chapter 2

Author:

Michele Nylons

Audience Rating:

EXPLICIT CONTENT

Publication:

Serial Chapter

Genre:

Mystery or Suspense

Character Age:

Mature / Thirty+

TG Themes:

TG Elements:

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

Chapter Two – Purging

Stephen Nielsen’s Apartment, New Brunswick, Newark – Fifteen Years Earlier

Craigslist turned out to be goldmine, full of men seeking to have sex with crossdressers. Under Tessa’s tutelage, Stephanie learned how to post an ad in the Casual Encounters section and how to vet replies.

“There are a lot of wierdos out there and although you can vet replies sent via email, it’s best to use your mobile phone and receive texts. You can pretty much figure out who is genuine and who is wasting your time. A lot of email responses will be from guys who are just picture-hunters, requesting compromising pics,” Tessa explained.

Stephen had purchased a cheap laptop and a pay-as-you-go burner phone on Tessa’s advice.

“Keep your real identity and your femme identity separate from each other. It’s safer and more discreet. Have you ever watched Ghostbusters? ‘Don’t cross the streams’. That’s pretty much a rule with us closet crossdressers. You can’t post a phone number in Craig's and they have an algorithm that searches and removes ads that have phone numbers posted in them but it’s easy to beat,” Tessa helped Stephanie post her first ad in the T4M section under Casual Encounters.

Young attractive femme crossdresser hosting for NSA on evenings and weekends. D&D free genuine applicants twenty to fifty, no timewasters or picture collectors. Too Oh Won For Too Sux Ate Fife Fife Fife. See pics to see what is on offer.

This was Stephanie’s first ad and she attached some cheesecake shots to entice potential candidates.

Soon Stephanie was hosting men for sex most evenings and weekends and it became obsessive. She had a group of men whom she called her ‘regulars’. These were men whom she deemed compatible and were able to meet regularly at prearranged times. Most told her little about themselves but she soon realised that the majority were married ‘straight’ men seeking something spicy on the side.

Of course many of the responses Stephanie received were from timewasters but Tessa educated Stephanie as best she could how to sort the genuine trans admirers, as Tessa called them, from the bogus responses and those that looked a little shaky.

“The reality is, until the guy turns up at your door, you never know what you are dealing with,” Tessa explained the bleeding obvious.

The first couple of times that Stephanie hosted men in her apartment she had Tessa with her and they had posted an ad offering a threesome. Once Stephanie was confident that she knew what she was doing she began to host on her own. Tessa was tiring of Stephanie anyway. Terrance Bigalow was a married man who occasionally crossdressed as Tessa to engage in extramarital gay sex and she couldn’t keep up with Stephanie's voracious appetites.

There were a few abject failures who after the first meet were not invited back but Stephanie felt secure because all of her transactions took place on her private laptop and ‘burner’ cellphone.

The problem was that Stephanie was taking over Stephen’s life. Stephen spent most of his free time as Stephanie and his grades began to suffer and he wasn’t socialising. Although it was only a two hour drive to New Rochelle, Stephen didn’t get home much and Astrid Nielsen became worried about her son. She had heard about his falling grades and she contacted the Dean who had administrative responsibility for her son and the news was worrying to say the least.

Astrid immediately thought drugs were the problem, although Stephen denied it. Astrid decided that drastic action was required to steer her son back on the straight and narrow path of academic achievement and appropriate social interaction. She would limit Stephen’s access to the family fortune and cease paying rent on his apartment and force him to reside in the on-campus student accommodation and reduce his spending allowance and tie the amount of money he received to his academic achievements.

Before she did any of these things an event occurred that changed Stephen Nielsen's life drastically.

Although Stephanie had a bevy of admirers, mainly older married men, she still posted her ad in Craigslist looking for conquests. She adored the fact that some men found her irresistible and craved her company. It validated her femininity. She had also participated in group sex now and then when the mood took her. She was promiscuous, precocious and almost insatiable.

She received a response from a man named Oliver who claimed to be an experienced trans admirer who had a particular penchant for young crossdressers. He texted her and sent pictures to her email account. He was mid-thirties, handsome and seemed a perfect candidate. She arranged a meet with him and gave him the address of her apartment block but not the apartment number. As Tessa had taught her, the admirer did not get the apartment number until he was out front.

Stephanie was dressed in a sassy French maid’s costume she had bought at Party City. It featured a black satin dress with white lace trim and an attached white apron and a white lace headband and black velvet choker. She wore black transparent boy leg panties under it, black, fully-fashioned stockings and black high heels. She wore a blonde shoulder-length wig and her makeup was slutty. The costume had been specifically requested by the handsome man who had answered her ad and he had asked her if she was wearing it when he texted her requesting the apartment number.

When she opened the door there was no handsome mid-thirties man. Instead there was a fortyish, stout, muscular, big-bellied man with a boxer’s face and standing behind him was a skinny man with lank greasy hair around the same age and an obese man with a pockmarked face and permanent scowl.

“Hello princess,” Oliver pushed the door wide open before Stephanie could close it.

The three men crowded Stephanie inside and slammed the door behind them and locked it.

“Hey, this isn’t the deal!” Stephanie knew that her voice sounded high and whiney but she was scared.

“She’s hot Ollie, those pictures on the website didn’t do her justice,” said the greasy haired man who had already begun to undress.

“I’m going to fuck her brains out,” the obese man said stripping off his shirt to reveal pale white flesh that was also pockmarked.

“Come on guys. This isn’t what I was putting out there and you are definitely not the man in those pictures,” Stephanie said to Oliver who was ogling her openly.

“Hey, you advertised yourself as a tranny looking for a fuck, so look on the bright side. You're getting three for one,” Oliver chuckled.

Stephanie tried to bolt for the door but Oliver caught her by the wrist and swung her around. She landed face to face with the skinny, greasy haired man who clutched her in a bear hug and tried to kiss her. He chased her lips with his mouth and his breath was terrible. He eventually clamped his lips on Stephanie's and drove his tongue into her mouth while he frogmarched her into the bedroom. The others followed and closed the door.

The three men were naked and erect and Stephanie was terrified. She knew what was going to happen she just hoped that she wouldn’t be injured or worse. She had read about home invasions in the media and she silently prayed that all they wanted was sex.

“You go first Frankie, I want her to suck my cock,” Oliver said to greasy-hair and Stephanie paled.

“Frankie here is going to fuck you a little while you suck my cock and Jimmy is going to watch and take his turn next. If you fight us Jimmy is going to hurt you. If you scream or cry out, Jimmy is going to hurt you. If you try to bite or scratch, Jimmy is going to hurt you. Do you understand?” Oliver hissed holding Stephanie at arm’s length next to the bed.

Stephanie was too shocked and scared to say anything and she just hung there like a rag doll.

“Show her Jimmy,” Oliver said when Stephanie didn’t answer.

The punch to the midriff winded Stephanie and the pain was excruciating. Lucky for her it was a short, sharp jab and she recovered quickly.

“I understand,” Stephanie gasped for breath.

“Good. Now get on the bed,” Oliver pushed Stephanie onto the bed and he and Frankie pulled Stephanie to her knees.

“Check out that ass!” Frankie pulled the hem of Stephanie's French maid’s costume all the way up, exposing her rounded buttocks sheathed in the black transparent panties.

Stephanie had to endure being forced to her knees on the bed while Frankie took up position behind her and Oliver scootched down in front of her, his big cock dangling inches from her face. Oliver put his hands on Stephanie’s head and guided her mouth onto his quivering organ. A rope of pre-ejaculate dribbled from the eye and Stephanie tasted the salty-sweetness of it as her lips circled Oliver’s bloated glans.

At the same time she felt her panties being eased aside and suddenly Frankie’s long but thankfully slender penis slipped inside her anus. She thanked god that she was pre-lubricated in anticipation of sex when Frankie dug his fingers into her hips and began to vigorously fuck her.

Oliver entwined his fingers in Stephanie’s hair and began to fuck her face. He fucked her mouth so viciously that her wig came off in his hands and Frankie, Jimmy and Oliver all laughed at Stephanie’s distress. Jimmy tossed the wig aside and Oliver twisted his fingers into Stephanie’s dirty-blonde hair and tugged, forcing her face back onto his engorged prong.

Stephanie knew that her only hope was to satisfy these men’s desires and hopefully she could escape unscathed or with as little damage as possible, her belly still ached from where Jimmy had punched her.

Frankie was fucking Stephanie with long slow strokes, enjoying the feel of her tight anus stretched around his steely rod whilst Oliver delighted in the feel of her lips gliding back and forth along his shaft while Stephanie’s tongue slathered at his glans, the tip of it ticking his fraenulum.

Stephanie was using every trick she knew to try to get these guys off so they would finish and leave. She looked up at Oliver with her frightened green eyes, her red lips distended around his turgid shaft whilst she fellated him, trying her best to induce sympathy but also to illicit his climax. She pushed back and gyrated her panty-clad buttocks into Frankie's groin as his cock slid in and out of her rhythmically.

Stephanie felt almost disembodied. It was like she was in a trance, standing beside the bed, watching her doppelganger being ravished. Worse still she was becoming erect. Frankie's slim banana-shaped phallus was the perfect shape and size to light up the pleasure receptors in her prostate, the base of his organ elicited sparklets of delight from her stretched sphincter. It didn’t help that Jimmy had his hand between her legs, stroking her erect organ through her gauzy panties.

It was a nightmare, come true. As much as Stephanie despised these dirty hooligans she couldn’t prevent her body responding to their ministrations. Frankie knew how to fuck and he was enjoying every second of defiling Stephanie’s tight, slick anus. He would push his cock all the way inside in her and jiggle his cock, stretching her sphincter, feeling the velvet sheath of her rectum clench and release his hard cock. He gazed at her plump white buttocks, sheathed in the transparent black panties, her back arched, skirt hiked up, her blonde hair mussed, Oliver’s fingers entangled in the locks as he forced his cock in and out of her mouth.

Frankie was close. This bitch was young, pretty and vulnerable. He knew that she was only cooperating out of fear and terror but that excited him even more. He saw the wicked grin on Jimmy’s face as he stroked Stephanie’s cock through her panties, forcing her to endure the sexual stimulation that she hated herself for experiencing.

“I’m going to blow my load Ollie,” Frankie huffed as he fucked Stephanie harder and faster, pulling her buttocks into his groin as he pounded his cock in and out of her tight orifice.

“Wait for me. Make sure you get this Jimmy,” Oliver hissed as he forced his cock down Stephanie’s throat.

Stephanie didn’t understand what Oliver was telling Jimmy to do, she was just relieved that he had let go of her cock and scooted off the bed. She would realise later and regret it for the rest of her life but for now she was in sensory overload.

Frankie might be raping her but he was doing so with so much finesse that she couldn’t help enjoying the feel of his manhood sliding in out of her tight cleft. His glans pressed on her prostate and his shaft ignited the pleasure sensors along her anal walls and around her sphincter. She didn’t even mind that he was gripping her hips so tightly that his fingers were bruising her flesh.

Oliver bellowed and suddenly Stephanie’s mouth was filled with hot, musky milt which she had no choice but to swallow as Oliver gripped her head still and forced his cock deep inside her mouth. Her anus rippled and undulated involuntarily as Frankie howled and pulled her ass hard into his groin as his cock quivered and filled her tight hole with his scalding issue.

To her dismay and disgust Stephanie creamed her panties. Unable to suppress the wantonness that coursed through her countenance as Oliver filled her mouth with his semen and Frankie’s cock juddered and released in her tight rectum, her body surrendered and an orgasmic seizure wracked her and overwhelmed her. Her panties became soaked with her creamy discharge as she climaxed right along with the men defiling her.

She was given no time to recover. As soon as Oliver removed his penis from her mouth and Frankie’s cock slipped from her battered anus, Jimmy leapt on the bed and rolled her over onto her back. Oliver held her wrists, stretching her arms out to hold her down while Jimmy lifted her legs up high and tore away her panties. He plunged his thick, bloated organ into her dilated hole and began to vigorously fuck her.

The three men raped her repeatedly, using her body as a playground. They forced her to do things she had never dreamed of and to her horror she climaxed repeatedly as the three men illicited pleasure along with the pain. She endured the onslaught for hours until the men were finally sated. They left her curled up on the bed, her costume tattered and cum-soaked, her nylons shredded and her face a mask of ruined makeup infused with cloying semen.

To make matters worse, Jimmy showed Stephanie the video he had taken of her being spit roasted by Oliver and Frankie.

“This will look great on Pornhub,” he sniggered.

“Nah, just kidding. We keep our videos private, so long as the girl keeps her mouth shut, don’t we Ollie,” Jimmy said to Oliver who had just finished getting dressed.

Oliver sat down on the bed and forced Stephanie to look at him.

“Look. We know where you live. We have your phone number. We have the pictures and the video. We can come back and do this any time we want to, so it’s best you keep your mouth shut and we will do the same. See you around toots,” Oliver had the audacity to kiss Stephanie full on the lips.

The three men left the apartment and Stephanie lay on the bed wracked with shame and guilt.

Her anus felt like it was prolapsed, her jaw ached, she had bruises and scratches all over her body but the external damage was nowhere near as bad as the damage to her mentally. In the short term she changed the locks on her apartment and had a security chain fitted and she visited the free clinic and mercifully was found to be STI free but she lived the next few days in constant fear.

The consequences of the sexual assault were immediate and devastating. Stephanie purged.

Purging is a term used to describe a period when a transwoman who is living a double life as male and female suddenly feels overwhelmed and stops expressing her female identity. Stephanie threw away her female clothing and accessories, she deleted all her online accounts; factory reset her laptop and burner phone and sold them to a pawn shop and began to live full time as a man. She moved out of her apartment into student accommodation and cut all ties with her contacts.

Stephanie no longer existed.

Stephen’s grades improved immediately as he devoted himself to study and began to socialise with his peers. He met Mary Granger in his third year of college and they began to date. Mary was very attractive and she dressed the way he liked his women to dress: skirts and dresses, usually with heels. She paid attention to her appearance and always wore makeup and was seldom barelegged, favouring sheer pantyhose or opaque tights.

Importantly she didn’t think it strange that Stephen liked to fuck her while she wore her nylons and would often take her while she was fully clothed. She understood that Stephen had a fetish for her being dressed that way and she didn’t mind pandering to it. She would cure him of that little peccadillo once they were married. He was handsome, wealthy, intelligent, a caring lover and he was going places. He was the perfect catch.

They married right out of college and using his brilliant academic record and Astrid’s family connections Stephen secured a position as an investment banker with a prestigious firm.

The couple made the decision before they were married that neither of them wanted children and unencumbered by family commitments they both worked hard and enjoyed the fruits of their labours. Although disappointed that she didn’t have grandchildren, Astrid Nilsen was happy to see her son settled down with a comely, intelligent woman and to see him become very successful in his chosen profession.

Mary took on a number of administrative supervisory positions before settling down to work at one of the state’s preeminent medical facilities and she enjoyed everything that her life with Stephen had to offer which included a very satisfying sex life. Stephen still had a predilection to fuck her while she wore her nylons and she pandered to his fetish and purchased a small collection of sexy lingerie and exotic hosiery which she wore for him when the occasion suited her.

Stephen and Mary had a very happy marriage and lived in an opulent house in New Rochelle, not too close but not too far from Stephen’s mother. Everything was going wonderfully well, until out of nowhere Stephanie returned.

Westchester County Court – The Trial – Day Two

“The prosecution calls Robert Martello to the stand,” ADA Gerald Thatcher stood stoically behind the prosecution table.

Some members of the jury leaned forward in anticipation of the evidence about to be presented. Large video screens had been brought into the courtroom and positioned so that the judge, jury, defence and prosecution could see them clearly.

The defence had filed a motion to suppress the forthcoming evidence and argued fiercely that the pictures and video found on the laptop and phone discovered in the hidden compartment of Stephanie’s desk were prejudicial and blatantly inflammatory. The prosecution had argued that the evidence supported their view of Stephanie Nielsen's moral character, establishing a pattern of promiscuous behaviour and bolstered their claim that the defendant and the deceased were involved in a tumultuous relationship and had fought frequently about Stephanie’s philandering.

Judge Vogel had dismissed the motion to suppress but had applied the caveat that nothing pornographic was to be presented openly in her court and the prosecution had been obliged to submit their exhibits to the judge for prior approval before they were presented to the jury.

A short weedy pale man took the stand and took the oath of affirmation.

“Mister Martello will you state your occupation to the court?” the ADA began.

“I am a forensic investigator who works for Doctor Richard Webb, the head of the Forensic Identification Unit. I specialise in information and communication technology,” Robert Martello’s voice was high and whiney and he was the epitome of a geek right down to the pen protector in his shirt pocket.

“Let’s go first to the laptop found hidden in the defendant’s desk in her home study,” the ADA walked around from behind the prosecution’s table.

William Sanford’s chair scraped on the floor as he pushed it back. William was about to object about using the term hidden as it implied dishonesty and unscrupulousness but Stephanie had argued with William during one of their many meetings that denying that Stephanie kept her double life and adulterous activities secret would only inflame the jury once the evidence that supported the claim was presented to them.

Stephanie put her hand on William’s wrist and gently squeezed it, intimating for him to remain seated. Mary Nielsen saw the intimate gesture from where she was sitting behind the defence table and grimaced.

“The Sony Vaio laptop was an older model. I was able to establish that it had passed through several owners before it ended up in the possession of the accused. I established that it had been purchased at a pawn shop three years ago,” Robert said in his squeaky voice.

“It was password protected but I was able to bypass the password in a few seconds,” Robert sounded smug and Gerald Thatcher moved him on quickly.

“Tell us about the emails you found on the device,” Gerald Thatcher addressed his witness.

“The emails were stored in folders. In a folder named ‘Jeremy’ I found a succession of emails. Chronologically they recount Stephanie Nielsen’s first contact with Jeremy Wallace on an online dating site three years ago. The defendant sent a succession of pictures of herself to Mister Wallace and proposed that they meet, and I quote: ‘on neutral grounds’ at a New York hotel sometimes referred to a ‘hot-sheet’ motel. Mister Wallace agreed to the meet and sent pictures of himself to the accused,” Robert used a laser pointer to indicate the text in the emails on the screens.

“With your permission, your honour?” Gerald Thatcher nodded at Judge Vogel who nodded in return.

A series of oohs and aahs rumbled through the court as a succession of pictures of Stephanie Nielsen appeared on the screens. At first she was dressed quite sophisticatedly and presented as a very attractive lady who could easily have been mistaken as a businesswoman. As the slideshow progressed so did the sordidness of the pictures until finally pictures of Stephanie Nielsen dressed in a red bustier, red satin panties, nylon stockings, high heels and not much else, lying provocatively on a bed holding a dildo to her mouth, appeared on the screen.

Stephanie stared stoically ahead knowing that every eye in the courthouse was looking at the screens and then at her.

A succession of pictures of Jeremy Wallace appeared on the screen. He was dressed only in Speedos but the pictures didn’t garner as much excitement as the pictures of Stephanie had done.

“As you can see the two agreed to meet and they exchanged mobile phone numbers,” mercifully the provocative pictures were removed from the screens and screenshots of the email trail replaced them.

“The defendant purchased a prepaid mobile phone at a gas station around the same time that she purchased the laptop. Such phones are often referred to as ‘burners’ because they cannot be traced to the owner,” Robert added.

“As is evident in the email trail, supported by evidence gleaned from the accused mobile phone, the two entered into a sexual relationship and ceased meeting in the motel and began to meet secretly at Jeremy Wallace’s apartment,” a series of emails and text messages flashed across the screen.

Judge Vogel had agreed to a proposal from the prosecution that their witness be allowed to summarise the contents of the emails found on Stephanie’s computer with the stipulation that the defence could object anytime they discerned that the witness’s summation was incorrect.

Having read all of the emails and texts that the prosecution intended to tender as exhibits William Sanford had agreed. He did not want the witness reading the scandalous and provocative emails out loud in the court. The jury were to be given a folder containing hard copies of the email, texts and images for them to peruse during their deliberations.

“And what other email messages did you find?” Gerald Thatcher found it hard to suppress a smirk.

“Another folder was labelled ‘Casuals’ and it contained email messages sent back and forth between the defendant and numerous men. They were themed similar to the emails found in the ‘Jeremy’ folder. Ms Nielsen would receive a response to an ad she had placed on a dating website and if she found the candidate suitable they would exchange pictures, exchange phone numbers and arrange a meeting, usually at a hotel, motel or in some cases at the candidate’s domicile,” Robert Martello pointed to a succession of emails as they appeared on the screen.

“These advertisements that Ms Nielsen placed; can you tell the court about them?” the ADA asked.

The screens flashed again and this time a webpage appeared.

“This is the defendant’s advertisement in the now defunct Craigslist Personals section under Casual Encounters heading T4M,” Robert pointed to the screen nearest the jury.

Mature attractive ‘passable’ transvestite looking for NSA with mature men aged thirty to fifty. See pictures to see what is on offer. Hotel meets or your place, I do not host. NPNC. Discretion required and guaranteed. If compatible we exchange phone numbers and go from there.

Another series of pictures of Stephanie ranging from cheesecake to almost, but not quite, pornographic in nature accompanied the ad and the court got to see them all.

“This is the defendant’s Grindr profile. We found the app on her phone,” Robert continued and the screens changed to show Stephanie’s profile on Grindr.

Stephanie’s Grindr profile was similar to her Craigslist listing and included the obligatory raunchy pictures. Robert Martello had been instructed to delete the pornographic pictures of Stephanie performing fellatio and being sodomised.

“Objection your honour, the defence has already stipulated that my defendant met Jeremy Wallace on an online dating site and that she advertised on other sites,” William Sanford got to his feet.

“Your honour, this evidence is crucial to the prosecution’s premise that the accused had been in a long term relationship with Jeremy Wallace and that they had argued about Ms Nielsen’s promiscuity,” the ADA countered.

“Objection overruled but make your point soon councillor, this courtroom is not the place for show and tell,” Allison Vogel had seen enough pictures of Stephanie Nielsen dressed in lingerie posing provocatively.

“Very good your honour, just a few more questions for my witness,” Gerald Thatcher bowed to the judge to hide his triumphant smirk.

“Please explain the acronyms for the jury,” the prosecutor asked.

“Well NSA means ‘no strings attached’, T4M means ‘trans for men’ and NPNC means ‘no picture, no chat’. These are common contractions used on internet sites,” Robert explained.

“How many men did Ms Nielsen actually meet up with from these sites?” Gerald Thatcher asked.

“That’s impossible to say but putting together the email trails and linking them to text messages in her phone, around fifty men over a three year period. With the exception of Jeremy Wallace it appears that Ms Nielsen only ever met these men once and then the relationships ceased,” Robert Martello explained.

“So based on the email and text message traffic you estimate that Ms Nielsen had sexual encounters with over fifty men in three years,” it was not a question, just the ADA throwing fuel on the fire.

There was murmur around the court when Robert Martello had said over fifty men. Both Stephanie and Mary Nielsen bowed their heads and could not look at the jury or the gallery.

“Moving along, what else did you find of relevance on the devices other than the back and forth messages between Ms Nielsen and her suitors arranging one-off meets?” the ADA was on a roll and ready to put another nail in Stephanie Nielsen's coffin.

“We found a plethora of digital images and video of Ms Nielsen having sex with men. I have been instructed not to put those pictures on display in court but the jury has access to them for deliberation purposes,” Robert sounded smug again.

“Back to the texts and emails if you please,” the ADA steered his witness.

“Here in these texts and email messages you can see that about a year before he was murdered that Jeremy Wallace was imploring Ms Nielsen to give up her promiscuous lifestyle and enter into a monogamous relationship with him. He even suggests that Ms Nielsen leave her wife and move in with him permanently,” a succession of emails and text messages appeared on the screen to support Robert Martello’ supposition.

“Can you show us Ms Nielsen's responses to these messages?” the ADA asked his star witness.

“Ms Nielsen basically replies that Jeremy Wallace’s proposals are ridiculous. Although Jeremy espouses his love for Ms Nielsen, Ms Nielsen says that they are nothing more than long-term part-time lovers who find each other mutually compatible and that she has no intention of leaving her wife,” Robert Martello points to a series of email and text messages yet again.

“Are you saying that Mister Wallace proposed that Stephen Nielsen live openly and permanently as Stephanie Nielsen and that they live together publicly?” Gerald Thatcher asked.

“Not only that. In these emails here he proposed that Ms Nielsen undertake gender reassignment in order to do so,” Robert Martello pointed to another series of emails.

“And what was Ms Nielsen’s responses to these proposals?” the ADA asked.

“She declines the proposal and in this email here she describes the proposal as ludicrous,” Robert Martello pointed to the damning replies.

“Nothing further, I tender the witness your honour,” Gerald Thatcher sat down; the damage had been done.

“All of this: the dating site advertisements, the alleged clandestine meetings with suitors in seedy hotels, the relationship between Ms Nielsen and Mister Wallace all occurred while my defendant was still outwardly presenting as a man named Stephen Nielsen who sometimes dressed as a woman to meet men for sex. She had not yet transitioned and changed her gender had she?” William Sanford proposed.

“Objection; relevance?” the ADA got to his feet.

“Only a couple more questions your honour and I’ll get there I promise,” William pleaded with the judge.

“Get there soon Mister Sanford,” her honour warned.

“Has the FIU been monitoring my client’s email, online activity and emails since the murder?” William asked.

“Objection, facts not in evidence,” Gerald Thatcher was livid.

“Overruled, the witness may answer,” Judge Vogel did not appear to be happy that the defendant was still under police surveillance.

Robert Martello stared at Gerald Thatcher dumbfounded that the defence knew about the ongoing surveillance but the ADA just nodded at him.

“Given that this is a murder investigation and the accused was granted bail and was considered a flight risk, we asked for and were granted a warrant by Judge McGregor to monitor the defendant’s online activity,” Robert Martello admitted.

“And isn’t it true that my client has shut down her accounts on these websites and has been actively removing salacious online content and has closed the email address she used prior to her being arrested?” William Sanford closed in on Robert Martello where he was seated in the witness box.

“That is correct. Her online activity at the moment is best summarised as boring or what we call vanilla,” Robert Martello further admitted.

“So, one might draw the assumption that Stephanie Nielsen, the transwoman sitting in this courtroom, is a totally different person to the crossdresser Stephen Nielsen whose pictures and private messages you displayed upon those screens,” William growled angrily.

“Objection, this witness has no way of knowing the morality, behaviour, or lifestyle of the defendant based on her online presence,” the ADA argued.

“Exactly your honour. None of this evidence points to the character of my client,” William Sanford glared at the ADA.

“But it sure shows us the kind of person she was!” Gerald Thatcher griped angrily.

“Sit down both of you. The objection is sustained and we are finished for the day,” Judge Allison Vogel rapped her gavel.

“Counsel, chambers!” Judge Vogel pointed angrily to William Sanford and Gerald Thatcher.

The Offices of Stone, Lyman and Sanford – After Day Two of the Trial

“They crucified me in court today William,” Stephanie sat in William Sanford’s office close to tears.

They were alone in the Offices of Stone, Lyman and Sanford, working late, preparing for day three of the trial.

“I got Judge Vogel to quash the surveillance warrant issued by Judge McGregor and she’s pissed that the warrant was issued after your arrest. I could have had it quashed well before the trial but I needed the jury to see that you are not the woman you were before your transition,” William sat next to Stephanie and took her hand in his.

“You know our trial strategy Stephanie. We allow the prosecutor to paint you as a scarlet woman before your transition and we will bring in Doctor Strauss to explain why. At the moment the jury are condemning you, but when Helena gives her evidence I expect them to become sympathetic,” William Stroked Stephanie’s hand.

“You had to see all that horrible evidence again. You’ve seen the pictures and the messages. You know what I was,” now Stephanie was crying.

“Exactly Stephanie, what you were. Not what who you are now,” he leaned in and kissed Stephanie softly on the lips.

Stephanie responded by putting her arms around William and intensifying the passion. The kiss became long and languid, Stephanie craving compassion and validation after having her character ripped apart in court earlier that day. Finally William broke the kiss.

“Let me take you to dinner. We can talk about anything but the trial,” William proposed.

“And risk being seen out together publicly by the paparazzi? Wouldn’t they have a field day with that! I can see the headlines now: ‘Handsome single attorney seen dining with tranny whore accused of murder’. As if those vultures haven’t got enough garbage to feed on after today’s fiasco,” Stephanie’s anger flared.

“We knew that today would be testing for both you and Mary and please don’t refer to yourself as a tranny whore. You are not that person. That was someone you used to be, not who you are now,” William did his best to calm Stephanie’s nerves.

They kissed again and the kiss slowly became passionate and intense.

“Make love to me William. I just want to forget about today, even if it’s only for a little while,” Stephanie gasped around their open-mouthed kiss.

William lifted Stephanie out of her chair and took her to his desk, never breaking the kiss. Their need was immediate and Stephanie clung to him, her kisses frenetic, her passions intensifying, her wants palpable. She broke the kiss and spun around and bent over the desk, lifting her skirt out of the way while William dropped trou and stepped between her legs.

For an instant the pictures he had seen of Stephanie in flagrante delicto with a succession of strangers sprang to mind but he cleared his head of them. This wasn’t that woman and he knew it. When he had first met Stephanie he was repulsed by her. Then they had become lovers… now he thought he might be falling in love with her.

He eased aside the gusset of her black satin panties and saw that she was ready for him. She had pre-lubricated herself, he could see the glistening emollient in her puckered bud and he pressed his cock to it and pushed.

His cock slid inside her and Stephanie gasped as he filled her void. She pushed back and wriggled her ass. She wanted it to be quick and sordid and William was happy to oblige. He gripped her hips and jackhammered his cock in and out of her tight cleft until he felt his climax about to overwhelm him. Stephanie put her hand to her mouth to stifle a scream as she felt William’s cock explode deep inside her anus. She ejaculated into her panties at the same time that William filled her with his creamy seed.

The sex was short, intense and almost violent. It was what they both needed. William took tissues from his desk and caught the flow of spunk from Stephanie’s ass when he pulled his cock out of her. He wiped her ass and handed her a wad of issues so she could pat at the puddle of ejaculate clinging to the front of her panties. They both cleaned up as best they could, a little embarrassed by the interlude. They normally took their time when they made love, lingering over the delight, building their passions until they both craved release but sometimes they just couldn’t contain their animal desires.

With their decorum restored Stephanie picked up her handbag and William threw some files in his briefcase ready to leave.

“I’ll come by your hotel around nine,” William leaned in and kissed Stephanie on the cheek not wanting to ruin her freshly applied lipstick.

“I’ll be waiting for you,” Stephanie left the office first and William waited five minutes before he departed.

Secrecy and decorum where essential at this stage of their affair.

The Offices of Stone, Lyman and Sanford – Six Months Before The Trial

Stephanie Nielsen sat across the conference table from William Sanford who had the case files arranged neatly in front of him. William was flanked by two associates who had done the grunt work wading through the discovery provided by the DA’s office. Stephanie was flanked by Mary on one side and Edward Trent on the other.

Today Stephanie was wearing a modest dark skirt-suit, a white blouse, tan hosiery and heels. Even dressed demurely she was a striking woman with her defined features, full red lips and shock of platinum blonde hair.

Mary was also a very attractive woman. Her build was similar to Stephanie’s although she wore her hair in a brunette bob. She too wore a suit, hosiery and heels, although Mary’s suit was bone and her blouse dark blue. Their perfume competed, the luscious grapey-jasmine and tuberose shadowy floral scent of Stephanie’s Dior Poison juxtaposed to the sharp bitter citrus and rosemary intertwined with salty, sea nuances of Mary’s Aqua di Giò.

William Sanford wondered, not for the first time, why any man would betray a woman as beautiful and sexy as Mary Nielsen or even contemplate becoming a woman to spite her. There was much about Stephanie Nielsen that William didn’t understand and from what he had read in the discovery documents and seen in the visual imagery gleaned from her computer, he found her to be a despicable aberration.

That aside, the case was intriguing and he felt that he could mount a solid defence and Stephanie was wealthy which was just as well because beside the exorbitant fees his firm charged and the cost of the trial would be substantial.

Although Stephanie sat directly across from him, William addressed Edward Trent.

“I have reviewed the discovery and the facts of the case Edward and I believe that your client stands a half decent chance of acquittal or in the worst case scenario we could ask for a plea bargain down to manslaughter,” William opened proceedings.

“Of course I will need to hear your client’s version of the facts, interview other witnesses and retain expert professionals with specialised knowledge who can provide impartial opinions on specific matters to formulate a valid defence argument,” William continued.

“So you will take the case?” Edward sounded relieved.

“Provided your client deposits this retainer in my firm’s account, I am willing to proceed,” William slid a note across the table to Edward.

Edward read the note and then passed it to Stephanie.

She cleared the throat and spoke for the first time.

“My name is Stephanie Nielsen, Mister Sanford, and I am sitting directly across from you. Please don’t talk about me in the third person while I am in the room. When we first met you told me that you have defended some of the most depraved individuals in the State of New York. I know that is how you see me and I can accept that. I just ask that you treat me with the same courtesy and respect that I’m sure you offer to your other depraved murder suspects,” Stephanie said levelly.

“I will arrange to have the retainer transferred into your firm's bank account this afternoon,” Stephanie slipped the note into her purse.

Edward Trent broke the ensuing silence.

“In that case I will leave you with your client. Good luck William. Good luck Stephanie,” Edward Trent leaned across the table and shook William Sanford’s hand.

When Edward left the room he looked like a man who had been reprieved from execution at the last minute.

“If you will excuse me, I would like to talk to my client alone,” William nodded at Mary and his two associates.

Mary too seemed relieved to be leaving the room. The associates shuffled some paperwork and filed out leaving William and Stephanie alone.

“We are going to be spending a lot of time together over the coming months. We are going to be discussing the most intimate details of your life and for this collaboration to work we must trust each other. We don’t have to like each other but we have to be able to work alongside each other amicably,” William said and got up and moved around the conference table and sat down beside Stephanie.

“Why do you despise me?” Stephanie whispered.

“I don’t despise you. I just don’t understand you. You need to make me understand you because in a few months you are going to have to make a jury understand you. Is that clear,” for the first time William looked Stephanie directly in the eyes and was captivated by how green they were.

“Crystal clear,” Stephanie replied looking directly into William’s deep, dark-brown eyes.

There was something trusting about him. His rakish good looks, his bespoke suit, his commanding voice and his confident demeanour made Stephanie feel safer than she had felt since her arrest.

“Good. I need your permission to interview your doctors and your psychologist. I want to know everything there is to know about your mental state at the time of the murder and the background and history of your gender issues,” William became business-like and placed a series of documents and a pen in front of Stephanie.

Stephanie signed the documents without even glancing at them.

“You didn’t even read them,” William pointed at the documents.

“I don’t need to. I trust you,” Stephanie handed the pen back to William and their fingers brushed briefly when he took it.

“Feel free to wipe your hand William, I won’t be offended,” Stephanie gave William a knowing smile.

He knew then that she had seen him wipe his hand on his trousers while waiting for the elevator in the corridor outside Edward Trent’s offices.

He gave Stephanie a wry smile and tucked the pen inside his suit pocket.

“I’ll arrange another conference after I have interviewed the medical professionals,” William stood up and Stephanie was surprised when William held her seat for her when she stood.

He walked her to the door to the conference room and Stephanie held out her hand to him. William took it and gently shook it. She looked into his deep brown eyes again while they shook briefly and he held her gaze.

“Thank you William. I hope I won’t be too much bother,” Stephanie blushed.

William gave her a genuine smile and he placed his hand lightly in the small of her back as he guided her out the door.

“One more thing Stephanie, don’t wear that perfume at trial, it distracts me,” his smile widened and Stephanie's blush deepened.

William Sanford sat at the conference table deep in thought. What was it about Stephanie that made him like her? He had seen the most damning evidence of her infidelity. He had seen proof that she was conniving, secretive, sexually depraved and promiscuous. But there was something about her in person.

She came across as sincere and honest and likeable. Had something changed, besides the obvious physical manifestations, since she’d had gender reaffirming surgery and gender reassignment? Was she now a different person to the man dressed as a woman who had met with Jeremy Wallace on the evening he had been murdered? Was she really a murderer? Was it all a farce to garner sympathy?

The legal wheels began to turn in his brain and he was already thinking about a trial strategy.

His mind flickered briefly to the image of Stephanie when he they first met a week ago. The pretty petite woman with pert breasts and those long legs sheathed in shimmery glossy tan nylons as she strode the short distance across the meeting room before she sat down beside Edward Trent.

He shook his head to clear the image and reminded himself that he had a dinner date tonight with a stunning young paralegal who had made it abundantly clear that sex was in the offing.

Outside the law offices Mary sat patiently waiting for Stephanie. Since her husband’s arrest she had taken up smoking again and had snuck outside for a cigarette before returning to the hard wooden bench where she sat and pondered the future. Her ‘husband’ was now a woman and their marriage a sham. She only stayed with Stephanie out of loyalty. They had agreed to a no fault divorce once the trial was over regardless of the outcome.

Stephanie came out of the office and sat down beside Mary.

“Does he want to fuck you yet?” Mary asked bitterly.

“Don’t be silly, he despises me,” Stephanie replied softly.

“I see how men look at you. You’re beautiful and sexy and exotic. They’re all wondering what you have under that skirt,” Mary sighed.

Stephanie could smell the cigarette smoke on Mary. The last year had been devastating for Mary, and Stephanie still loved her and felt immensely sorry for her.

“You know I haven’t been with anyone but you since I was arrested,” Stephanie whispered.

“But you have been with plenty over the last three years,” Mary hissed.

“Men Mary, never another woman,” Stephanie explained for the hundredth time.

“Like that makes it any better. I think I would have felt better if you had fucked half the secretaries in your office rather than what I’m facing now,” Mary grimaced.

“I told you why it happened. We have both been to see Helena Strauss. She explained to you about my gender dysphoria,” Stephanie tried to take Mary’s hand in hers.

“All the times you asked me to wear pantyhose or stockings and sexy lingerie to bed I thought it was because you wanted me to look and feel sexy. I never dreamt that you wanted to wear them yourself,” Mary chuckled ironically.

Her demeanour changed and she took Stephanie’s hand and they walked together to the elevators.

“Now that you’re a woman and you look nearly as gorgeous as I do, maybe we can pull a nice handsome man and have a threesome. You’ve still got your dick and it would make for an interesting interlude I’m sure,” Mary sniggered.

“Shut up,” Stephanie squeezed Mary’s hand and they stepped into the empty car.

Stephanie kissed Mary affectionately just as the door opened on the next floor.

A young man entered the car, obviously embarrassed by what he had witnessed: two beautiful mature women kissing.

“See?” Mary whispered and Stephanie stifled a laugh and patted Mary chastely on the buttocks.

Westchester County Court – The Trial – Day Three

The prosecution rested as soon as the court came into session. ADA Gerald Thatcher had three other witnesses on his list. One was the building superintendent at Franklin Manor who would verify the security footage and also claimed to have seen Stephanie Nielsen in the building a number of times over the last three years but the defence had stipulated to the affair between Stephanie and Jeremy so his testimony was not really needed.

The other two witnesses were the coroner and another forensic expert who didn’t really have anything additional to add to the evidence already presented. Gerald Thatcher was well aware that overdosing juries with boring forensic testimony sometimes sent the jury into a coma and often alienated them. He thought he had proved his case.

“The defence calls Doctor Helena Strauss,” William said confidently, calling his first witness.

Helena Strauss presented as a fastidious woman, small in stature but confident and officious. She wore a grey suit, black opaque tights, low heels, very little makeup and her hair was pulled back in a severe bun. She looked like the caricature of a phycologist.

William allowed Helena to introduce herself to the court and offer her credentials as an expert witness.

“I have a doctorate of psychology from Harvard University. I have worked with a variety of presentations including complex trauma and post-traumatic stress disorder. I currently specialise in cases involving gender dysphoria, body dysmorphia, anxiety, depression and interpersonal relationship difficulties,” Helena finished her introduction.

“How long have you known the defendant, Stephanie Nielsen, Doctor Strauss?” William began.

“I first met Stephen Nielsen, as he was then known, about three and half years ago. Stephen came to see me, referred by his private physician, for psychological issues regarding gender identity,” Helena said confidently.

“May I address the jury your Honour,” Helena turned to the judge.

Gerald Thatcher was about to object but he too knew that continually interjecting put the jury offside.

“Briefly Doctor,” Allison Vogel nodded at Helena, as two highly respected professionals are want to do.

“For the remainder of my testimony I am going to refer to defendant as Stephanie and use feminine pronouns regardless of whether or not I am talking about her presenting to me prior to, or after, her gender reassignment. Deadnaming, as we call it, can make transgender people feel disrespected, unsupported, and invalidated. It can also make them feel like you don't care enough about them to use their chosen name. I hope you won’t find that confusing,” Helena spoke to the jury as if they were equals, careful not to talk down to them.

“This issue has already been explained infinitum your Honour. I request the witness continue with her testimony without continually going over old ground,” Gerald Thatcher couldn’t help himself and realised his mistake when both the witness and some members of the jury gave him indignant stares.

Judge Vogel waved a hand, indicating for the prosecutor sit down. There had been no formal objection and Allison Vogel was keen to hear what Helena had to say.

“Can you tell us about Stephanie’s gender issues as you call them?” William had spent hours deposing Helena and knew exactly what she was going to say.

There is an idiom among lawyers that you never ask a witness a question unless you know what their answer is going to be. Doctor Strauss had been called as an expert witness at many trials and she didn’t need much coaching.

“Stephanie came to see me because she was beginning to feel the strain of suppressing her gender identity. She was a classic case in that she showed signs of incongruence between her sex assigned at birth and her gender identity when she was young. In almost all cases this presents as crossdressing because putting on clothes of the opposite gender is the easiest way to change your outward appearance,” Helena began.

“This usually begins with the wearing of feminine undergarments and hosiery. The garments feel nice against the skin. They are comforting and later they may arouse the subject sexually. This is different to those who have a fetish where the fascination is with the object itself, such as a fetish for stockings or panties or high heels. For those with conflicting gender identity issues the undergarments validate the subject’s femininity and they soon move onto wearing outer garments, shoes, makeup and wigs. The subject will work hard at projecting an outwardly feminine persona and give themselves a female name,” Helena continued.

“If this trait continues into adolescence and adulthood they almost always seek to engage sexually with men. The sex is of course satisfying but it also validates their femininity. If a man finds them attractive enough to want to have sex with them, then they must be ‘passable’ in the eyes of the man. So now the subject also has to deal with sexuality issues,” Helena explained.

“But not all crossdressers would qualify for this diagnosis, is that correct?” William Sanford interjected.

“Certainly not. There is a broad spectrum when it comes to trans feminism. I have mentioned the underwear fetishists, often called ‘hairy panty-wearers’ who are fascinated sexually with ladies undergarments. Then there are fetishic crossdressers who present themselves as feminine as possible but once again only for the purposes of sexual gratification. There are even heterosexual, agamous, crossdressers who do not find dressing as a woman sexually gratifying. They are heterosexual men who just derive comfort from wearing ladies clothing,” Helena spoke directly to the jury so she would be understood.

“Most transgender women pass through the crossdressing stage and although they exhibit similar traits to their transvestite sisters, in their minds they actually become the woman they always wanted to be. They will exhibit distress related symptoms of being a woman trapped in a man’s body. Their only recourse is gender affirming surgery and gender reassignment so that they can live full-time as a woman,” Helena paused and took a sip of water.

“Can we get specifically to Stephanie Nielsen?” William guided Helena back on track.

“By the time she was eighteen Stephanie was already living part-time as a woman although she was still what we call closeted. That is she hadn't come out and kept her feminine identity secret. Like most of her ilk she sought the company of other crossdressers because they understand each other. Stephanie engaged sexually with men, seeking validation from those who have a penchant for her type. She did not identify as homosexual because she only had sex with men when she presented femme,” Helena continued.

“However, supressing her feminine identity led to classic symptoms of dysphonia including: anxiety, depression, and eating disorders as well as promiscuity. The more men she had sex with, the more it validated her gender identity you see. Her attendance at college became sporadic and she ceased studying so her grades suffered and also she became socially isolated. It is hard work being a closet transvestite, living two lives,” Helena commented.

“In my opinion, and as is often the case, Stephanie would have either come out of the closet and acknowledged her gender dysphoria and sought help or she would have spiralled into psychosis and possibly become suicidal,” Helena said gravely.

“What did happen?” William asked.

“Another outcome, and what occurred with Stephanie, is that a traumatic event can force the subject to dispel the outward manifestation of their feminine identity and drive it deep inside their psyche. In other words they shut it away and deny its existence,” Helena replied.

“And what was this traumatic event?” William asked, looking at the jury for their reaction.

“She was raped,” Helena said loudly and clearly and a gasp rippled around the courtroom.

At the defence table Stephanie bowed her head and Mary registered shock. Stephanie had never told Mary about the assault that had happened to her while she was in college.

“This was never reported to your knowledge?” William sounded concerned.

“Transgender women are four times more likely to be raped than their cis counterparts and if they are closeted, like Stephanie was, they almost never report it. Also, put into context that Stephanie was promiscuous and regularly having sexual congress with strangers she met online. I doubt that the police would have been inspired to pursue the allegation,” Helena said sarcastically.

“Objection your Honour; speculation. The witness’s expertise in phycology and gender issues is acknowledged but she has no direct knowledge as to how the police would have handled an investigation that went unreported,” The ADA shot his feet.

“Sustained. The witness may provide evidence only on what she knows to be factual and is not to speculate,” the judge said firmly and Gerald Thatcher scored a point.

“Please continue. What did Stephanie do next?” William smiled at his witness, encouraging her to ignore the objection.

“She purged herself of everything to do with her feminine identity: she threw out her clothes and accoutrements, she deleted her online identity then she closed her mind and suppressed her dysphoria and lived life as a man fulltime. She made new friends, found a wife and worked hard at being a good husband and provider,” Helena explained.

“But for a person who is genuinely gender dysphoric this hardly ever works in the long term. Around three years ago she could no longer keep these feelings suppressed and Stephanie re-emerged and would not be restrained. The overwhelming kinaesthesia of being a woman trapped in a man’s body became overpowering,” Helena took another sip of water.

“She reverted to her old ways but this became even more problematic because Stephanie was a successful married business professional so that part of her life was conducted in the utmost secrecy. She began to live two separate lives,” Helena disclosed.

“This time though she went about it a little differently. She used online dating sites just as she had before to meet men but she only ever met them in hotels and only ever met them once. She used every opportunity to sneak away and be herself but she was extremely cautious. She had so much to lose you see?” Helena used a hand gesture to emphasise her point.

“But that wasn’t the case with Jeremy Wallace was it?” William now wanted to move onto the specifics of Stephanie and Jeremy's relationship.

“No. Stephanie and Jeremy formed a special relationship. They were lovers but more than that, they had a special bond. Jeremy had no interest whatsoever in Stephanie’s male counterpart, in fact he insisted that Stephanie never talk about Stephen. Jeremy never acknowledged that Stephen existed outside of her feminine persona as Stephanie,” Helena answered William’s question and knew where he would be going next.

“But Stephanie continued to see other men?” William led his witness.

“Yes because of her insecurity she felt validated when men desired her. The more men she bedded, the more her feminine psyche felt vindicated,” Helena nodded sagely.

“But she and Jeremy argued about that, is that not right?” William was steering into dangerous territory but he had to address the damning emails between Stephanie and Jeremy.

“Yes. Stephanie faced a terrible dilemma. She still loved her wife and would do nothing to hurt her but she also adored Jeremy and felt conflicted about cheating on them both,” Helena explained.

“Forgive me Doctor Strauss but I’m confused. Stephanie was conducting a clandestine affair behind her wife’s back but also felt that she was being unfaithful to Jeremy?” William desperately wanted the jury to understand Stephanie’s state of mind.

“That’s right. She was hopelessly conflicted,” Helena replied.

“But after Jeremy was killed, Stephanie came out to her wife and in fact finally undertook gender reassignment,” William asked the question he knew the ADA would ask under cross-examination.

“It sounds almost callous to say but with Jeremy gone and Stephanie’s secret life exposed, there was no reason for her not begin to live her true life,” Helene said matter-of-factly.

“And do you know if Stephanie is still promiscuous?” William asked.

“During our counselling Stephanie told me that she been monogamous since she came out as a transwoman,” Helena said with self-satisfaction.

“And Stephanie never expressed to you any violent feelings towards Jeremy or anyone else?” William could sense that the jury had heard enough from this witness.

“Stephanie is a gentle soul and in my opinion incapable of committing murder or any act of violence,” Helena looked at the jury with sincerity.

“Your witness,” William nodded at Gerald Thatcher.

The ADA went straight on the attack.

“So this woman who has been living a deceitful, double-life for most of her life, hiding it from her family and friends and her wife, a woman who is promiscuous in the extreme, capable of ongoing dupery, deceptiveness and is unfaithful to both her wife and her lover, is incapable of violence?” Gerald snarled at Helena.

“It’s more complicated than that counsellor as I have explained in my testimony,” Helena’s hackles became raised.

“So I am to understand that even though Stephanie Nielsen knew that Jeremy Wallace was hopelessly in love with her and was willing to, what do you call it, come out of the closet, as a man in love with a transgender woman, Stephanie Nielsen continued to see other men, fully aware that this angered and distressed him?” Gerald did not back off.

“As I said before, I have already explained that,” Helena would not be shaken and the ADA took another tack.

“The defendant has obviously agreed for you to break doctor patient privilege to give this testimony?” Gerald raised his brows.

“Obviously,” Helena sniped back.

“But you haven’t established an alibi for your patient have you? Other than giving us a potted history of deceit, lies and promiscuity, you haven’t really helped your patient's defence at all have you?” Gerald said mildly, taking the heat out of his attack.

“That is for the jury to decide. I am up here to explain Stephanie Nielsen’s state of mind,” Helena replied, with a self-satisfied smirk.

“You are up here as an expert witness, are you not?” Gerald changed tack again.

“I have presented my credentials to the court and I am Stephanie Nielsen’s consulting psychologist,” Helena sounded smug, which wasn’t usually her demeanour but Gerald Thatcher was getting to her.

“And how much are you being paid to tender your expert testimony?” the ADA approached the witness.

“Objection your Honour,” William Sanford got to his feet.

“On what grounds Mister Sanford, you know that the ADA has asked a valid question,” Judge Vogel waved away the defence counsel’s objection.

“I was paid ten thousand dollars,” Helena said calmly.

“So your intimate knowledge of the defendant’s personal life was espoused for a significant fee, even though you present yourself as a sympathetic friend and confidant,” Gerald growled.

“Objection!” William flew to his feet.

“Withdrawn,” the prosecutor had made his point.

“So now that Stephanie Nielsen has undergone gender reassignment, everything is hunky dory?” the sarcasm in Gerald’s voice was evident.

“Transwomen usually require ongoing mental health support in the early stages of their transformation. I would also add that the trauma associated with being accused of murdering her lover and dealing with the fallout of her being so publicly outed has created quite a stressful situation that will need ongoing clinical and moral support,” Helena became calm once more.

“Yes… this transformation and reassignment. Has Ms Nielsen undergone bottom surgery?” Gerald asked snidely.

William guessed that the ADA would call into question the full extent of Stephanie’s gender affirming surgery and had discussed it with Stephanie at length. William believed that he would be able to suppress the question if it arose but Stephanie insisted that if they did suppress it, it would look like she had something to hide and told Doctor Strauss that if she was asked, she should answer truthfully.

The ADA waited for the objection and when none was forthcoming he prompted the witness.

“Well?” he asked knowingly.

“No but studies that assessed transgender women as an aggregate found that only four to thirteen percent undertake bottom surgery. Consensus among experts places the number at around twenty percent. Bottom surgery isn't something all transwomen want or need in order to feel happy with their body. Most find that being able to present themselves outwardly as a woman reduces their dysphoria,” Helena was ready for the question.

“So Ms Nielsen could easily transition back into a man if she wanted to, say, after the trial?” Gerald asked pointedly.

“Objection, relevance?” William got to his feet once again.

“Evidence suggests that less than one percent of transgender people who undergo gender-affirming surgery report regret,” Helena responded before the judge could rule.

“Nothing further,” Gerald Thatcher said flippantly and took his seat.

Radisson Hotel, New Rochelle – After Day Three of The Trial

Stephanie lived in a suite in the Radisson Hotel where she would stay until after the trial, it had been agreed that Mary would get the house as part of the divorce settlement. After the verdict Stephanie would move to somewhere permanent or go straight to prison. Negotiations were already underway as to where Stephanie would be housed if she were found guilty. The prison system was still coming to terms as to where and how to incarcerate transgender inmates.

The door opened and William Sanford entered the suite. Stephanie had slipped him a passkey so that he could enter and leave the hotel discreetly. If he came during the day his presence was easily explained as a lawyer visiting a client but late night rendezvous’ might be a little harder to explain.

Stephanie was lying on the bed dressed all in white: white satin panties and brassiere, a translucent white peignoir, white hold-up nylon stockings and white high heels. She looked stunning and William hurriedly undressed and joined her on the bed.

“We did well in court today,” William snuggled up to her.

“Shut up and kiss me. Make me forget about this nightmare,” Stephanie wrapped her arms and legs around William and pulled him close, his cock rubbed against hers through her slinky panties as they kissed.

Safely ensconced in the hotel there was no rush and they took their time making love. William kissed Stephanie softly whist gliding his erect penis along her bloated appendage, the ethereal fabric of Stephanie's panties stimulating their cocks, the tips of their tongues just touching.

This continued until Stephanie’s panties were wet with pre-seminal fluid and then William broke the kiss and began to explore Stephanie’s body with his mouth. She removed her peignoir and lay back and let William tend to her. His lips and tongue moved from her mouth to her earlobe which he nuzzled playfully and then nipped, causing Stephanie to flinch, not so much with pain but with lust.

He moved down her swanlike neck, softly caressing the delicate skin with his lips, the tip of his tongue picking up the almost bitter tang of her perfume. He spent some time there.

“Mmm, you know I love that,” Stephanie entwined her fingers in his mane and encouraged him to move on.

He did so and explored the hollows of her clavicle and while he did so his hand lightly brushed her yearning cock, still swathed in satin. It was a perfunctory graze, just a tease to make Stephanie moan which she did. He followed the hollow of her breast bone down to her magnificent bosom. He lapped at the soft inviting baps, carefully avoiding her sensitive nipples and areolas, teasing her. He used his fingers to stroke one of the inviting orbs while he used his mouth on the other.

He traced the fine silver scars under each of her breasts where she’s had implant surgery. They knew each other well enough by now not to be embarrassed by bodily imperfections but even so Stephanie yanked on William’s hair in a vain effort to guide his mouth to her nipples which were achingly susceptive and finally William relented and took her nipple in his mouth and sucked on it, flicking his tongue across the berry-like protuberance while his fingers flicked and fondled the other.

“You bastard, that feels so good,” a shiver of wantonness caused Stephanie to shudder.

William caressed her cock lightly through her panties and then released it.

“You fucker… stop teasing me,” Stephanie whined but William knew that she enjoying every second of his ministrations.

He continued to work her breasts with his mouth and his fingers, swapping from one to the other until Stephanie's moans became a continual growl and then he moved on down across her flat creamy-skinned belly, briefly lingering at her bellybutton which required investigating with the tip of his tongue, despite Stephanie pushing on the top of his head trying to guide his mouth to the ultimate destination they both knew it was going to.

William reluctantly left the delights of her belly and his mouth continued along her delicate frame until it was inches from the lump in her panties. He ignored it and instead continued his journey, neglecting her aching genitals and found the crease where her legs joined her torso.

He investigated the crease with his lips and tongue while his fingers caressed her thighs, smoothing her nylon stockings along her flesh, igniting little fires of intense pleasure.

“Do it, you fucker!” Stephanie yanked at William's thick locks and he smiled and submitted to her request.

He lapped at her engorged penis through the sleek panty material, running his tongue along the length of it, teasing her scrotal sac with his fingertip until she drummed her feet on the coverlet and only then did he pop her cock out of her panties and take it in his mouth.

The first time William had fellated Stephanie she had implored him not to because she suspected that he was only doing so out of a sense of duty and would be repulsed by it but it turned out that William Sanford was actually pretty good at fellatio and he didn’t mind it one little bit. If he was going to be in a relationship with a transwoman then there was no part of her body that he intended to leave unexplored.

Stephanie had taught him well and William slid his lips up and down her shaft while his tongue concentrated its efforts on the head of her penis, lapping at her tender frenulum and the corolla, occasionally licking the bulbous glans. He heard Stephanie sigh and her fingers relaxed, stroking his mane rather than yanking it now that he was pleasuring her how she wanted him to.

He worked his mouth up and down her cock, swallowing the sweet nectar of pre-ejaculate, his finger lightly caressing her scrotum which was still ensconced in her slithery panties.

“Oh that is so good,” Stephanie sighed as she felt waves of delight emanate from her throbbing organ.

“Oh my god!” Stephanie squealed as William slid two fingers inside her anus and began to massage her prostate with his fingertips.

Stephanie was pre-lubricated with K-Y Liquibeads and his fingers slid in easily. He worked them in and out of her tight cleft, briefly stopping to caress her prostate and then went back to fucking her ass with his fingers whilst his mouth worked her hard cock. His cock was pressed against her leg, rubbing against her stockings, leaving silvery trails of precum on the almost transparent yarn. He loved rubbing his cock on her nylon-sheathed legs and Stephanie was very obliging. She too loved to feel his cock pressing against her stockinged gams.

Stephanie was writhing on the bed, grunting, growing, mewing and moaning like a slattern in heat. Wavelets of pleasure were pealing out from her anus and prostate, joining the ringlets of delight thrumming from her fully-engorged phallus, her whole body was lit up with withering ripples of pleasure as a corollary of orgasmic sensations washed over her body like the groundswell of a tidal wave.

Stephanie shrieked and twisted her fingers in William’s tousled mane as she fucked his mouth, unleashing a torrent of warm, musky milt into his mouth which William swallowed greedily while he worked his fingers in and out of Stephanie’s tight sphincter.

He didn’t wait for her to fully climax before he quickly spun Stephanie over on her belly and mounted her, lying on top of her, driving his steely rod into her tight anus, fucking her vigorously, emptying his scrotum inside her as she stained the sheets with the remainder of her issue.

He pressed her into the bed and pounded at her, his pubis slamming into her soft buttocks, his mouth clamped on her neck, sucking on it like a vampire as he felt her anus clench and release his cock spasmodically, milking him of every drop of his seed.

Stephanie cried into the pillow, feeling the weight of the man she adored laying on top of her, his cock juddering as the last of his spunk filled her aching asshole.

It had been a long and withering session and they both lay panting in the afterglow of tremendous sex. William was content to lie on top of Stephanie until the sweat began to cool on his body and then her rolled off her and pulled her close, kissing her softly, uttering words of adoration.

After a while they made love again, this time tenderly looking each other’s eyes as they pleasured each other. Both of them on verge of saying something that would be life changing but neither of them uttered the words. The trial loomed over their heads like the sword of Damocles and they were too scared to commit to each other until the verdict came in.

After their lovemaking William donned a robe and went to the minibar and poured them both a drink.

“I’ll put Mary on the stand tomorrow followed by you. Are you going to be ready?” William asked as he climbed on the bed and lay down beside her.

“Tell me again why Mary has to testify?” Stephanie took a long pull on her gin and tonic.

“She will be a character witness and will testify that you were a loving husband without a violent bone in your body,” William said for what had to be the twentieth time.

He had only ever known Stephanie as a transwoman and still found it difficult to think of her as once being a man who wore women’s clothing and had sex with other men. During his lengthy conferences with Doctor Helena Strauss, William had come to understand about Stephanie’s past, her issues with gender dysphoria and why she became promiscuous.

William had been single all his life and he had fucked so many women that he had forgotten most of them so he was no angel himself. He had never been in a long term relationship and he was still coming to terms with his relationship with Stephanie. At first he had despised her for who and what she was and then he became curious. He had never dreamed that he might fall in love with her; if that’s what this was. Neither of them had been willing to discuss a future together after the trial.

“What will you do after the trial and all this is over?” William asked Stephanie.

It was the first time they had talked about what might happen to them after the trial.

“Maybe I’ll settle down and marry a nice man. Someone far removed from my past life. Definitely not a lawyer,” Stephanie teased William, running her stockinged toes up and down his calf.

“I can still work as a broker. I could advertise myself as the ‘Tranny Trader’. Wouldn’t that be a hoot,” she took a long pull of her drink.

William took the glass from her hand and put it on the nightstand.

“I’m a nice man. Maybe I can change your mind about hooking up with a lawyer,” he slid his hand under the sheets and stroked Stephanie’s cock through her panties and felt it begin to engorge.

“Shut up and fuck me again,” Stephanie moaned and rolled over on her back.

William left the hotel in the early hours; he leaned down and kissed a half-asleep Stephanie on the cheek before he left.

“Don’t forget about what I said about wearing that perfume,” William whispered.

“I won’t,” Stephanie mumbled and fell back to sleep.

She had worn it every day in court deliberately because William had asked her not to.

To be continued…

Crimes of Passion - Chapter 3

Author:

Michele Nylons

Audience Rating:

EXPLICIT CONTENT

Publication:

Final Chapter

Genre:

Mystery or Suspense

Character Age:

Mature / Thirty+

TG Themes:

TG Elements:

Permission:

Posted by author(s)

Chapter Three – The Verdict

Westchester County Court – The Trial – Day Four

“Mrs Nielsen, you married your husband twelve years ago, is that correct,” William Sanford asked his witness.

William began the fourth day of trial by calling Mary Nielsen as a character witness and to substantiate some facts in evidence. He had deposed her privately and she had sometimes been present during the pre-trial conferences and he was confident that she would be a good witness.

“That’s correct we have been married for twelve years,” Mary had been briefed to keep her answers succinct and on point.

“Did your husband ever tell you about his crossdressing before you married?” William asked.

“No, and neither did he tell me during our marriage. The first I heard about it was when Stephanie was arrested and charged,” Mary swallowed dryly and reached for water.

“You had no inkling that about your husband’s extra-marital activities?” William waited for Mary to sip her water.

“Stephanie worked long hours and was often away from home on business and I also worked erratic hours so I guess if I’m honest I did wonder if he ever strayed. Stephen was a handsome man and I would suppose that any wife might perhaps wonder if her husband may be tempted to stray given the circumstances. He had the same concerns about me,” Mary answered straightforwardly.

“Really?” William feigned surprise.

“We both joked about it occasionally. You know, me joking about him chasing his secretary around the office and him joking about me being pursued by handsome young doctors,” Mary gave a wan smile.

“But you were both only joking,” William said for clarification.

“Stephanie’s secretary was a sixty-five year old spinster rumoured to be a lesbian so of course I was joking,” Mary smiled again.

“You work erratic hours as you said, as an administrator at a prestigious hospital, is that right?” William asked.

“I now know that while I was working the overnight shift was when Stephanie would go to see Jeremy Wallace or some other man with whom she had an assignation,” Mary blushed.

“And if I may ask you one last time… you never suspected that your husband was crossdressing and cheating on you or that he was suffering gender dysphoria?” William said firmly.

“No,” Mary answered firmly.

“Now if we can turn to the matter of the snub-nosed .38 Smith and Wesson handgun that Stephanie reported stolen,” William changed the subject.

“Our house was broken into while I was at work and Stephanie was in Washington meeting with clients. A burglar broke into our house and stole some jewellery that I had left out along with four expensive watches and the pistol. Luckily most of our good jewellery was locked in the bedroom safe,” Mary answered precisely, as she had been briefed.

“I refer the court to the police report lodged at the time,” William held up the exhibit.

“What did the police have to say about the matter?” William waved the report and put it back on the exhibit table.

“They said it was a crime of opportunity. The house was unoccupied, I had forgotten to set the alarm and the crook or crooks were in and out in a matter of minutes. No fingerprints were found and the police said that burglars almost always wore gloves. They checked with pawn shops known to handle stolen goods but nothing was recovered so we lodged a claim with our insurance company,” Mary was once again succinct.

“Has your husband ever used violence against you or have you ever witnessed Stephanie offer violence to others?” William was about done.

Mary guffawed.

“Look at her; even as a man Stephanie was small statured and demure by nature. She would rather catch a spider in a glass and release it outside than kill it,” Mary chuckled.

“Do you still love you husband? I know this is a difficult question,” William said gently.

“Yes, I love Stephanie but it is not the same as it was before. We have both been to see Doctor Strauss and she explained to me Stephanie’s condition and why it was imperative that she be allowed to undertake gender reassignment. Stephanie did so with my blessing. We are companions and friends but we have agreed to go our separate ways after the trial. The breakup is amicable and we will remain friends for life,” Mary wiped at a tear.

“Thank you Mary. No more from me your Honour,” William tendered the witness.

Gerald Thatcher arose to conduct his cross-examination. He knew that he had to be careful because Mary was a sympathetic witness.

“So this woman, at the time presenting as man, lived under the same as roof as you for twelve years and for the last three years has been living a double-life and in your own words you had no inkling?” the ADA asked pointedly.

“No,” Mary followed the brief to keep her answers concise.

“You saw not a skerrick of lipstick, not a trace of mascara nor smelled a scintilla of perfume on him over the three years your husband was crossdressing right under your nose? I read now from the transcript of the forensic exam conducted on your husband on the morning of the arrest: ‘minute traces of mascara, eyeliner and lipstick were found on the subject’s face’. How do you explain that?” Gerald Thatcher looked up from the report in front of him.

“I guess I just never forensically examined my husband,” Mary replied sarcastically and there were a few muffled laughs in the gallery.

“Ok then, let’s move on to the so-called stolen pistol. Where did your husband keep the weapon? Was it kept in the safe?” the ADA moved along.

“It was kept in the bedside table drawer. Stephen, I mean Stephanie, said it was pointless locking away a gun we had bought for our protection,” Mary replied, blushing because she had dead-named Stephanie in her reply.

“Ok, so it was kept in Stephanie’s beside table. When was the last time you saw it?” Gerald Thatcher had a gleam in his eye.

Mary looked puzzled.

“The gun was reported stolen the morning after the burglary when your husband returned from Washington. You knew that the watches and jewellery had been stolen because they had been left out on the dresser. But I assume that you only discovered that the pistol was missing when you conducted an inventory to see what else had been stolen,” Gerald continued.

“Objection, does the ADA have a question for the witness?” William didn’t even bother getting to his feet.

“So it’s possible that the gun was missing before the burglary or that the weapon was not stolen but hidden elsewhere. I ask you again Mrs Nielsen, when was the last time you saw the gun?” the ADA grinned at Mary when he saw the look of uncertainty on her face.

Mary baulked and looked helplessly at William Sanford who looked just as helpless.

“I honestly don’t know. It was Stephanie's gun,” Mary whispered.

“I’m sorry Mrs Nielsen, can you speak up so the jury can hear your answer?” the ADA smirked.

“I said I don’t know. It was Stephanie's gun,” Mary answered succinctly.

“So, as I said, it’s possible your husband hid the gun elsewhere and reported it stolen as part of the burglary?” Gerald sounded triumphant.

“Objection! Calls for speculation from the witness!” William Sanford sounded panicked.

“Withdrawn,” the ADA had done the damage.

“One final question, and this time I read from the transcript of the expert witness Doctor Helena Strauss, ‘during our counselling Stephanie told me that she has been monogamous since she came out as a transwoman’. Monogamous means being faithful to one person. Are you that one person?” Gerald Thatcher couldn’t keep a smirk off his face.

“If you mean are Stephanie and I still fucking… well that’s kinda personal counsellor but I bet you’d get off imagining that wouldn’t you?” Mary smirked right back at Gerald Thatcher who stood there gobsmacked, as was the judge, the jury and the gallery.

Judge Allison Vogel rapped her gavel as the courtroom erupted.

“Order in the court! The prosecutor’s question is rescinded and strike the witness’s reply as non-responsive,” Judge Vogel brought the court to order.

During the recess William, Stephanie and Mary sat in one of the courthouse anterooms looking dejected. Mary’s testimony had been a disaster. Gerald Thatcher had rattled her and Mary was still fuming after the cross-examination.

“Ok. Let’s put things in perspective. All of the prosecution’s evidence is circumstantial. We are far from done here,” William tried to sound confident.

“I shouldn’t have let him rattle me. I shouldn’t have risen to the bait,” Mary was forlorn.

Stephanie sat beside Mary consoling her and William had to admit that he was a little jealous. Mary’s answer to the question about Stephanie being monogamous did not rule out that Mary and Stephanie were still fucking. If that was the case then Stephanie was lying because he assumed that Stephanie’s monogamy extended to him.

The Offices of Stone, Lyman and Sanford – Four Months Before The Trial

“I want a speedy trial William,” Stephanie paced the floor of William Sanford’s office.

It was late and they were alone in the law firm. Stephanie and William had been meeting almost daily preparing for trial, usually after hours because William was in court during the day trying other cases.

“In New York, the average time to process a murder case is around twenty four months. This is due to a number of factors, including the complexity of the cases, the large number of criminal defendants requesting jury trials, and the limited amount of court time available each year.”

“The New York Criminal Procedure Law governs the Speedy Trial Clock, which requires the prosecution to be ready for trial within six months of a felony charge being brought. However, the clock can be paused for a number of reasons, mainly because the defendant requests a delay or if motions or interlocutory appeals are being considered. Murder cases contain the most evidence and involve several technical witnesses, which contributes to the length of time it takes to resolve them,” William explained.

Stephanie was about to complain but William held up his hand to stop her.

“In your case it’s different. We have stipulated to most of the prosecution’s facts because you admit that you were at the scene of the crime before the murder. Most of their case is circumstantial and I think I can punch a few holes in it,” William continued.

“The prosecutor’s office and I have submitted to the court that we can get the trial done in seven to ten days at the most, as neither of us have many witnesses to call and many of the facts in evidence have been agreed to. The Clerk of the Westchester County Courthouse has set a trial date four months from now,” William smiled at Stephanie.

“Thanks god! I can’t wait for it to be over,” Stephanie stopped pacing and sighed.

“The ADA will try to bias the jury against you to get his verdict. He knows the evidence against you is thin but it is very provocative, especially where it goes to motive. He’s going to paint you as a deviant adulterer and promiscuous slattern who cheated on her spouse and her lover, as a means of turning the jury against you,” William said gravely.

“Slattern,” Stephanie chuckled.

“Now there’s an archaic word but it is probably appropriate,” her laughter resonated around the room.

William stepped into Stephanie and glared at her.

“This is serious Stephanie. We will rebuff the implied slander; Doctor Helena Strauss will be a very important witness. We have to convince the jury that no matter what you were, you are not that person now. That by freeing you the jury are freeing not only an innocent person but also someone who has sought and found redemption,” William continued to stare into Stephanie’s eyes.

“You still loathe me don’t you? Even with all the time you spent talking to Helena about me and her explaining why I was what I was, you find me repulsive,” tears welled up in Stephanie’s eyes.

“I’m sorry Stephanie, I’ve seen the pictures, I’ve read the emails and texts, I’ve studied the evidence and I’m not convinced that just because you had a little surgery anything has changed,” William sighed.

“If you don’t believe me what chance do I have with the jury?” a single tear ran down her cheek.

“That’s my job, to convince them otherwise. Your job is to present yourself just like you have been doing to me: a beautiful woman who lost her way but is now virtuous and regretful of her past. How you present yourself in court and how you behave on the stand will have a significant effect on the case,” William admitted.

“And that is going to be difficult. I could put you in a sack dress and sneakers and you would still look beautiful and alluring. The men on the jury will look at those pictures of you and they will fantasise and the women will look at you and hate you,” William brushed away Stephanie’s tear with his fingertip.

“What about you, William? Do you fantasise?” Stephanie whispered.

“No. You are correct, I still loathe you. I can’t reconcile what you were with who you are now,” it was William’s turn for tears to well up in his eyes.

“Then what chance do I have? I’m lost,” Stephanie’s face was inches from William’s.

Her perfume was intoxicating; her face was so beautiful, framed by the platinum shock of hair, her makeup perfect, that sexy overbite framed by red lipstick. She stood inches away from him, petite, frightened and tearful but still sexy in her tight-fitting dark suit, shimmery hose and heels.

“You’re confused aren’t you?” Stephanie raised her hand to William’s face and stroked his cheek.

“You want to believe that I’ve changed because you find me fascinating but you are also repulsed by me because of what I am. I see that look in men’s faces all the time. It’s ok William. I’m used to it. Just do the best you can, even if you despise me,” Stephanie turned away from William and stepped towards the door.

William caught her wrist and pulled her back to him and held her at arm’s length.

“Yes I’m confused and also a little afraid. I will admit that over the time we have spent together I have become attracted to you but I wouldn’t know what to do with you, even if I were to make a move and you were to reciprocate. It is also highly inappropriate for a lawyer to become romantically involved with a client,” William breathed.

“Then let’s not be inappropriate William,” Stephanie put her hands on his chest, keeping a chaste distance between them.

She kissed him softly on the lips and he held her gently while she did so.

“We shouldn't be doing this Stephanie, it’s a bad idea,” William hissed when Stephanie broke the kiss.

“Then don’t,” she smiled up at him sweetly.

William pulled her close against him and crushed his lips against hers and drove his tongue into Stephanie’s mouth. She clung to him and lifted one leg like a 1930’s movie actress. She felt like she was floating on air and once again was overcome by that feeling of safety but this time there was an undercurrent of deep affection.

She could feel William’s hard body under his designer suit. Because it was late his face had the rasp of five o’clock shadow, his cologne was something musky and manly, his breath tasted faintly of coffee and breath mints. William was very masculine and confident; he strode around the room like a panther, his voice was deep and commanding. Stephanie had been falling for him ever since he took the case.

She didn’t think anything would come of it. She knew that he loathed her and did his best to hide it and she knew that he was too professional to get involved with a client. But every now and then she’d seen signs that he was curious: looking at her ass when she bent over the conference table to retrieve a document, checking out her legs when she slumped in a chair nearly exhausted and her skirt rode up, looking down her blouse when she had her jacket off as they worked late into the night and a button popped on her blouse.

Stephanie knew that men desired her; she had fucked enough of them. But she would be the dirty little secret. She was the woman you took to a sleazy hotel and fucked just to see if it was like the tranny porn on the internet. She was the woman men joked about with trusted friends at the bar but would never be seen in public with her. She knew that no self-respecting man would want be seen with Stephanie in public because of what she was and especially because her whole sordid past was being played out in the media.

Their kisses became more impassioned and William struggled to get Stephanie out of her tight jacket and then she helped him out of his. They continued to kiss while they did this, not wanting to break the bond they had formed. Then they became a little sordid with each other, William squeezed Stephanie’s buttocks through her tight skirt. He had wanted to squeeze that ass for months and found it round, plump and supple; just as he expected it to be.

Stephanie gasped as William circled his fingers on the globes of her ass, squeezing them intermittently, tracing the cleft between them, teasing her. She reciprocated and squeezed William’s tight ass, digging her nails into the pliant glutes. She could feel his cock pressing against her belly through the fabric of his trousers. As much as she was tempted to squeeze the appendage, she would make him wait.

Whilst still kissing her, his lips crushing hers, his tongue darting in her mouth, her moved his hands from her prim ass to her chest and unbuttoned her blouse. Her firm, creamy orbs were cupped in a satin and lace brassiere and William popped them out of the half-cups and stroked the magnificent globes. They were a perfect handful, the skin silky and white, the areolas pink and inviting, the nipples like berries ready to be plucked.

Stephanie's kisses became more ardent as William felt the heft of her breasts and began to stroke them, her nipples hardened to his touch as he lightly fingered them. He was gentle with them, cupping them, using his long fingers to softly massage the tender flesh and the ball of his thumb to knead her nipples until they were fully erect and Stephanie was gasping into his mouth. William didn’t know it but he was the first man to touch Stephanie's breasts since her surgery and the feeling was ecstatic.

She ground her body against him, encouraging him and she was rewarded. He kept manipulating her breasts with one hand while the other worked its way back down to her ass. He cupped a buttock and squeezed it and then her slipped his hand under her skirt and was rewarded with the feel of lacy stocking tops against his fingers and the sleek gossamer sheen of the nylon shrouding her thighs. Stephanie was wearing thigh-high hold-up stockings and she felt William’s lips break into a smile as he kissed her.

“You like them?” Stephanie placed her hand on top of William’s and guided it up and down her thigh.

“They’re sexy,” William whispered.

“You’re sexy,” he smiled at her and kissed her quickly.

Stephanie slipped her hand between their bodies and found him, hard, expectant and throbbing. She squeezed his cock and it trembled in her fingers. It felt long, thick and meaty even through the fabric of his trousers.

It was William’s turn to gasp.

The silence of the office was broken by the reverberant metallic scraping sound of William’s zipper being undone and then the clink of a buckle being opened and the rasp of trouser fabric against hairy legs as Stephanie lowered William’s pants to his knees.

“This is it William, we can stop here and put this down to too many late nights, overtiredness and bad judgement,” Stephanie looked up into William’s soft brown eyes and he looked lovingly into her emerald-green orbs.

“You’re the client, you decide,” he smiled at her cheekily.

She smiled back at him and then watched as William closed his eyes in anticipation as Stephanie freed his engorged manhood and slowly and softly caressed it with her fingertips. She gently raked her nails along the steely shaft and glans, lingering on the sensitive fold of his fraenulum and listened to his breathing quicken and felt his heart pounding in his chest.

She slowly lowered herself down his body, clinging to him like a snake slithering down a limb, her breasts pressed against his body and her fingers raking down his torso until she was crouched down with William’s magnificent penis inches from her face. She reached out and touched it, relishing the contrast of her bright-red nails against his pink shaft and bloated glans. A filament of pre-ejaculate oozed from the eye and she caught it with her fingertip and massaged it into William’s veiny appendage.

She felt William shudder as she did so and then she felt his fingers stroking her tousled blonde hair. He wasn’t pushing her but he was encouraging her and Stephanie obliged. She opened her mouth and took his sturdy rod into her mouth, clamping her lips gently on the shaft while her tongue flittered against his glans.

“Oh god Stephanie,” William gasped and Stephanie’s eyes lit up with delight.

She slowly fellated him, suckling his tender organ whilst her hand cupped his scrotal sac and gently kittled the furrowed pouch. She let his cock slide out of her mouth and she slathered the shaft and titillated his bulbous glans with her wet tongue and full lips and then she took his scrotum in her mouth and suckled it while she stroked his cock.

William was mewling and sighing, his hands resting lightly on Stephanie's head while she ministered to his desires. William had been fellated by many women during his lifetime but Stephanie was the best he had ever had. She edged him to extremis and then retreated, allowing him to recover before her mouth did things to his genitals that he never dreamed of. She worked her mouth up and down his shaft, expertly using her lips and tongue, introducing her fingers into play as necessary.

William knew that he wouldn’t be able to suppress his orgasm much longer and he wanted more. He wanted to feel Stephanie’s petite body under him while he fucked her.

He lifted Stephanie to her feet and gazed lovingly into her eyes. Stephanie looked sexily dishevelled and alluring: her lipstick was smeared around her impossibly full lips, her blonde bob mussed, and her mouth slightly open as she breathed heavily. She looked amazingly provocative as she tottered on her heels, her blouse open with her magnificent bosom peeking out of her blouse, her skirt had ruched, exposing the lacy bands at the top of her shimmering tan hose.

William growled and pulled her into his embrace and smashed his mouth against hers. He felt her go limp and held her tighter, his lips crushing hers, his tongue flittering in her mouth, his hands squeezing her ass, his cock pressed against her tight belly.

“I want to fuck you,” William hissed as he pawed at the diminutive sexy goddess, inhaling her perfume, feeling her feminine bumps and curves.

“If you bend me over you won’t have to see my cock,” Stephanie smiled up at him sweetly, deliberately trying to shock him.

William's response was to lift her bodily from the floor and carry her over to his desk and lower onto the hardwood surface. Stephanie wrapped her arms and legs around him as William carried her, their mouths locked together. William pawed at her, hiking her skirt up her legs until her pretty pink nylon panties were exposed. Stephanie had been tucked during the day but as the day wore on she had freed her genitals from their uncomfortable trap and now her hard cock tented the front of her panties and her scrotum rested in the gusset.

William looked down, fully expecting to be repelled by what he saw but to his surprise he found that he wasn’t. The front of Stephanie’s panties was distended and wet with pre-seminal fluid and he knew that he had caused that state of arousal in her. To his mind’s eye it was no different to cis woman wetting her panties with vaginal juices in anticipation of sex. The constant reviewing of the evidence, seeing the pictures of Stephanie posing provocatively and the pornographic images of her having sex had inured him. In fact he had been subconsciously stimulated whilst his conscious mind felt disgust.

But that was now all academic. He had this beautiful, provocative transwoman perched on his desk, her long stocking-sheathed legs wrapped around him, her magnificent breasts heaving, her face a picture of rapture and his steely appendage was barely an inch from her panties.

He pressed his cock against hers as he leaned down and kissed her. He could feel the pliable hardness of it through her gauzy undergarment and it felt amazing. He rutted against her as he kissed her passionately, her legs scissoring against his flanks, her bottom raised off the desk so that she could press her extremities against his phallic sword.

“What now?” William was a little perplexed.

He understood the dynamic of anal sex, in fact one of his ex-girlfriends was an aficionado, but they were in his law firm office and totally unprepared.

“Wait, just let me…” Stephanie's fingers scrambled across the desk and clawed at her handbag.

She unclasped it and rummaged around inside until she found what she was looking for. She produced a tube of Dior moisturising hand cream and smiled cheekily up at William as she secreted a generous dollop of the salve on her fingertips.

“Don’t cum in my hand,” she jokingly admonished William as she lathered his manhood with the lubricious emollient.

William gasped and Stephanie leaned forward and drove her tongue into his ear and nipped his earlobe. She kissed him, feeling his cock judder in her fingers as she did so. She eased aside the gusset of panties and positioned his glans against her puckered bud.

Using her legs as a fulcrum Stephanie impaled herself on William’s hard throbbing cock.

“Oh god!” William sighed as her tight, velvety anus clasped his penis.

He clamped his mouth on hers and began to fuck Stephanie, withdrawing his cock all the way out so that her sphincter circled his glans and then thrusting it forward until his scrotum slammed into her pantied taint. Stephanie clung to William and met his thrusts, gyrating her buttocks, expressing every scintilla of pleasure from his magnificent organ as it lit up the pleasure centres in her anus and extruded a continuous vibrato of delight from her prostate.

It had been so long since Stephanie had had sex that her orgasm bloomed almost immediately. She could feel William’s cock pulsating inside her slick anus and she could tell that he too was close. She stifled a scream when William clutched her buttocks and rammed his cock all the way inside her and ejaculated. She could feel his cock quiver and convulse, feel the freshets of steaming milt fill her void. His tongue flickered in her mouth.

William could feel Stefanie's anus contract around his ejaculating penis, milking him of his issue. She screamed into his mouth as she came like an express train, her nylon-clad legs rubbing on his sensitive flanks, her high heels locked behind his back, her breasts pressed against his chest.

He broke the kiss long enough to watch the front of Stephanie’s pink nylon panties suddenly effloresce with a spreading stain as a puddle of creamy semen bloomed where the glans of her penis distended the diaphanous garment.

He had made her cum!

William continued to fuck Stephanie until their orgasms peaked and began to subside and even when he finished thrusting he left his cock inside her, kissing her, holding her tight, feeling a bond between them that was undoubtedly sexual but there was something more that he couldn’t put a name to and didn’t really want to… at least not yet.

“Have you broken some sort of law or commandment or something by making love to me?” Stephanie had a twinkle in her eye.

“Oh yes. Oh god yes,” William chuckled.

“Wanna do it again?” Stephanie looked up at him adoringly.

William left Stephanie impaled on his cock as he carried her over to the leather sofa in the corner of his office. She rained kissed on him and whispered endearments as he did so.

They did it again.

Westchester County Court – The Trial – Day Five

William had asked Stephanie to dress demurely for court but there was no hiding her comely figure, killer legs and pretty face as she strode to the witness stand. She was wearing a conservative dark suit: a knee-length pencil skirt and long jacket, pale-pink satin blouse, transparent hosiery and black low heels. Her alabaster skin, long swanlike neck, shock of platinum blonde hair and full red lips gave her a Marilyn Munroe like countenance, despite the subdued makeup.

There was just no way to make Stephanie not look sexy and desirable.

The scandal sheets had been taking pictures of her every day as she entered the court and plastering them all over the media. The pundits had been commenting on her fashion and one media outlet had used the banner: ‘Happy Wife – Happy Life’ and then gone on to quote Mary Nielsen’s response to the ADA’s question about Stephanie’s monogamy.

There was a climate of schadenfreude pervading the paparazzi and mainstream media which leaked into the courtroom. The gallery was packed with people who wanted to see this beautiful, wealthy, confident, articulate transwoman taken down a peg or two. The LGBTI community was evenly split, with some labelling Stephanie a fraud who had undertaken gender reassignment to garner sympathy and those who fully supported her and of course the TERFs were having a field day. A famous female comedian did a skit on a late night chat show mocking Stephanie, portraying her as a dumb blonde who accidently shot her lover because she thought the gun wasn’t loaded.

Stephanie made her affirmation and sat quietly, waiting to be questioned.

“Did you kill Jeremy Wallace?” William opened his examination.

“No,” Stephanie answered confidently.

“Do you know who did?” William followed.

“No,” Stephanie repeated her answer.

“Do you know of anyone who might have had a grudge or resentment against the deceased; after all you knew him intimately for three years?” William was determined not to shy away from the facts of the case.

“Yes I knew him intimately but our relationship was secretive. We mostly met at his apartment, and yes, while Jeremy discussed his life outside of our affair, he never told me about anyone who had displayed animosity toward him or who he was having a disagreement with,” Stephanie’s voice was husky and sexy, almost breathless and it was having an effect on the jury.

“Did you ever discuss your life outside of the ‘affair’ as you put it,” William asked next.

“Jeremy only ever wanted to see my feminine side, he never once saw me presented as a man. He knew that I was married and he knew that I was an investment banker and we moved in similar circles but he never saw each other professionally and Jeremy never wanted to see Stephen Nielsen, only Stephanie,” Stephanie answered honestly.

“So you transformed from your male self into Stephanie at home and went to his apartment regularly over a period of three years, sneaking around behind your wife’s back,” William had warned both Stephanie and Mary that he would have to ask some difficult questions.

“Yes,” Stephanie’s reply was almost a whisper.

“The logistics involved and the secretiveness must have been almost overwhelming. You presented as a happily married, successful businessman, whilst at the same time living a double-life carrying on a long-term relationship with Jeremy Wallace and also meeting strange men in hotel rooms. Are you a devious person Stephanie?” William hated asking these questions but he needed to take the wind out of the prosecution's cross-examination which he knew would be withering.

“I was. I am not anymore. As Doctor Helena Strauss explained I was gender dysmorphic and that was how I dealt with it,” Stephanie’s replied honestly.

“Jeremy Wallace told you that he loved you and that he wanted you to come out openly as a transwoman and live with him. He encouraged you to do so and to undergo reassignment treatment and you argued about that didn’t you?” William continued to ask difficult questions.

“Yes,” Stephanie answered succinctly.

“Why didn’t you?” William asked the question many wanted answered.

“Because I still loved Mary and I knew that if I came out it would destroy her,” Stephanie looked over at Mary and gave her a wan smile.

“But after everything that has happened, it hasn’t destroyed her has it?” William asked coolly.

“Objection, goes to the state of mind of Mrs Nielsen, not the witness,” the ADA made a desultory objection just for the sake of it.

“Overruled,” Judge Allison Vogel’s response was just as desultory.

“No. She is a strong woman and she has stayed by my side throughout the investigation and my gender reassignment,” again Stephanie smiled at Mary who smiled back.

“Did you love Jeremy Wallace?” William had not warned Stephanie that he would be asking this question because he wanted an honest response and he wanted the jury to see it.

Stephanie didn’t answer, she just stared out into nowhere and the judge became impatient.

“The witness will answer the question,” Allison Vogel encouraged Stephanie to respond.

“Yes, I suppose I did. I never told him so and now I wish I had,” Stephanie replied looking at Mary as she made her response.

Mary quivered in her seat and took out a handkerchief to dry her eyes and everyone saw it.

“Jeremy Wallace was alive when you left his apartment that night, is that correct?” William was nearly finished.

“I transformed at home and went to his apartment. We made love several times and drank wine and then I left and came home. Jeremy was very much alive when I left his apartment,” Stephanie held her head up high as she made her declaration.

“No further questions,” William tendered the witness.

ADA Gerald Thatcher shot to his feet. This is what he had been hoping for. The defence didn’t have to put the accused on the witness stand and they often didn’t because it left their client vulnerable to attack and allowed the prosecution to bring up prior acts and review other testimony related to the defendant.

“You said earlier that you were a devious person but no longer are, so let’s explore that shall we?” everyone could see that the ADA was relishing his turn to take on Stephanie.

“How many men did you have sex with while you were married to your wife?” the prosecutor was going over old ground but he wanted to open old wounds.

“I don’t know,” Stephanie answered truthfully.

“According to the crime technicians there were over fifty rendezvous arranged online or by text, does that sound about right?” the ADA smiled maliciously.

“I would have thought a lot more,” Stephanie replied blithely, catching the ADA off guard.

“And you had sex with all these men to validate your femininity?” the ADA continued.

“Oh, the sex was good too,” Stephanie smiled demurely.

William Sanford was doing his best to catch Stephanie’s eye to indicate to her to stop being a smart ass. He had put Stephanie on the stand to garner sympathy not to antagonise the Assistant District Attorney.

“Is this the attitude that led to you and Jeremy Wallace fighting?” Gerald Thatcher struck back.

“Jeremy and I seldom argued and we never fought,” Stephanie snapped.

“But there was an ongoing diatribe in your correspondence with him about your promiscuity wasn’t there?” Gerald was back on the front foot.

“He wanted something I couldn’t give him,” Stephanie’s response was meek.

“I’m not talking about his insistence that you undertake gender reassignment. I’m taking about his disapproval regarding you having sex with multiple partners other than him,” Gerald directed Stephanie to the question.

“No, he didn’t like it,” Stephanie admitted.

“But now that he’s dead you have undertaken gender reassignment and stopped copulating with strangers. How convenient for you and unfortunate for him,” Gerald said viciously.

“Objection!” William leapt to his feet.

“Sustained. Ask questions councillor and do not badger the witness,” Judge Vogel instructed the ADA who had made his point and was satisfied.

“The defence has made much of the fact that your wife is standing by you throughout these proceedings but she has in fact petitioned for divorce has she not?” Gerald changed his approach.

“It will be uncontested and amicable,” Stephanie replied staidly.

“So once the trial is over, provided you are found not guilty of course, you can live the life you have always dreamed of, living as a single woman unencumbered by a spouse or a lover, is that your intention?” Gerald knew that he was close to being sanctioned again by the judge but he wanted to hammer home his point.

“I have no idea what I will do after the trial,” Stephanie replied curtly.

“But you have lodged divorce proceedings, you have put a down payment on a condo in New Rochelle, you and your wife have opened separate bank accounts and, if my sources are correct, you have been approached by a prominent publicist with an offer to have a book or screenplay written about you… haven’t you?” the ADA played his trump card.

Stephanie looked stunned as did William Sanford. William was unsure if he should object but the ADA made the decision for him.

“Don’t bother to answer. Your silence is the only answer the jury requires. I’m finished with this witness,” Gerald gave Stephanie a withering look and took his seat.

“The defence rests,” William Sanford addressed the judge and sat down looking a little rattled.

Westchester County Court – The Trial – Day Six

“Three years, ladies and gentlemen of the jury. Three years! For three years Stephen Nielsen lived a double life married to his wife, secretly presenting as Stephanie while conducting an affair with a man she has admitted she loved and at the same time having sex with countless strangers,” ADA Gerald Thatcher began his closing.

“Stephanie Nielsen has admitted to being devious and it was her deviousness that led her on the path she chose so that she could live the life she wanted to live. By killing Jeremy Wallace she became unencumbered. She was free to divorce her wife, free of an insistent lover, free to undertake gender reassignment, free of all commitment and responsibility,” Gerald paused for dramatic effect.

“Or maybe there is an alternative rationale. Stephanie Nielsen has not fully committed to the metamorphosis she and her phycologist insist is the only recourse to her to live the life she needs to live. She hasn’t undertaken bottom surgery. She still has her male genitalia. A cynic might propose that after the trial she could transform back to her male self just as easily as she changed her gender to female,” Gerald stalked the floor in front of the jury box as he spoke.

“A simple procedure to remove those implants, fill in some paperwork and lodge it with the appropriate authorities, wipe off the makeup and get a haircut and Stephen Nielsen can be down with his buds at the Rocka Rolla drinking beer, playing pool and chasing skirt with his bros,” Gerald said snidely.

“Now let’s look at the evidence. Stephanie Nielsen and Jeremy Wallace had been constantly arguing about her promiscuity and her refusal to openly present as the woman he loved and that he wanted to live with him. There is no viable suspect other than Stephanie, she had means, motive and opportunity,” Gerald counted the off on his fingers the three aspects of a crime needed to convince a jury of guilt in a criminal proceeding.

“It was her gun that killed him and her fingerprints were found on the weapon, no one else’s. The only fingerprints and forensic evidence found in the apartment and on the bodies of Jeremy Wallace and Stephanie Nielsen were theirs. She admitted being in the apartment that night and there is video evidence to support that she came to Franklin Manor that night and left around the time that Jeremy Wallace was proved to have been shot,” Gerald Thatcher glared at the jury.

“Her semen, her hair, her makeup, her clothing, her car, her fingerprints, her gun, her texts, her email… they all tie her to the scene of the crime. There is no other viable suspect. She admits that she was there and we saw her on the security cameras, her and nobody else,” the ADA was emphatic.

“There has been much talk in this courtroom about of a crime of passion. This was not a crime a passion; this was a cold, calculated assassination,” Gerald hissed at the jury, impassioned and angry.

“Do not let that pretty little blonde woman sitting at the defence table fool you into thinking that she is anything but a devious, conniving murderer who saw a way out of living a devious conniving life and she took it by killing Jeremy Wallace,” Gerald Thatcher’s face was red with outrage.

He walked over to an easel facing the jury and turned around a portrait of a smiling Stephen Nielsen dressed in a business suit and tie.

“This is the person that killed Jeremy Wallace. This man here, not the demure little lady sitting over there,” Gerald pointed vehemently at Stephanie Nielsen who held her head up high and didn’t flinch.

The ADA sat down, satisfied that he had proved his case.

“My client freely admits that she was at Jeremy Wallace’s apartment on the night that he was killed,” William Sanford began his closing remarks to the jury.

“She freely admits that she was in a long term relationship with him. All of the so-called conclusive evidence rattled off by the prosecutor has been accounted for by this fact. She made no attempt hide the fact that she went to that apartment that night, no attempt to fake a break-in, to contaminate or clean up the crime scene or blame somebody else, which someone guilty of murder would be likely to do,” William Sanford’s speech was quiet, considered and controlled.

“Much has been made of semen and fingerprints and DNA but that has all been accounted for by my client’s testimony. But you notice that the ADA never mentioned gunshot residue or blood spatter. There was no GSR or blood found on my client or the clothes she was wearing. Then there is the preposterous hypothesis that she wore gloves,” William looked beseechingly at the jury.

“Their supposition is that my client left traces of her hair, her makeup, her semen and her fingerprints all over the crime scene; she even left a pair of pantyhose and panties that she had been wearing behind… but she put on gloves before she shot Jeremy Wallace and disposed of them on the way home. She didn’t take the murder weapon with her and didn’t even bother wiping down the gun. How preposterous is that?” William declared.

“If you take away everything that has been adequately explained by my client, the prosecution is left with nothing but supposition and a pair of gloves that were never found,” William paused.

“My client’s sexuality, gender and previous promiscuity are not on trial here. Mary Nielsen sits behind Stephanie supporting her. Would a wife still support someone they though was capable of murder? Mary has forgiven her husband’s transgressions and both have admitted that they will divorce but amicably,” William walked over and turned around the picture of Stephen Nielsen so that the blank side faced the jury.

“Doctor Helena Strauss has explained to you why Stephanie is what she is and did what she did. The allegation that Stephanie undertook gender reassignment to garner sympathy is absurd and ludicrous,” William replaced the picture of Stephen Nielsen with a picture of Stephanie posing demurely for the camera.

“This woman is innocent. Whatever bias you may consciously or unconsciously hold against my client you must put aside and you must consider only the facts of the case. Has the prosecution proved their case beyond all reasonable doubt? William paused again and looked each juror in the eye.

“Let me say that again ladies and gentlemen… beyond all reasonable doubt!” William turned to look at the picture of Stephanie and then back at the jury.

“I think not,” William walked calmly back to his seat.

Judge Allison Vogel gave the jury instructions and sent them away to deliberate. The jury had not been sequestered during the trial but the judge had ruled that they would be sequestered while they deliberated to keep them away from the media circus.

The Nielsen Residence, New Rochelle, New York – After Day Six of The Trial

Stephanie and Mary Nielsen fought their way through the crowd of reporters who kept sticking microphones and cameras in their faces despite their repeated ‘no comment’ statements. They kept their heads bowed while they followed in the footsteps of William Sanford who forged a path ahead of them like a destroyer cutting through the waves.

Outside the courthouse Stephanie and Mary were whisked away in a town car with dark tinted windows and the paparazzi gave up the chase, stopping on the courthouse steps to listen to prepared speeches by the ADA and the defence counsel.

“What do you think?” Mary asked.

“I think I could use a drink, what about you?” Stephanie replied.

Mary remained silent.

“It’s in the hands of the jury now,” Stephanie added and the couple stayed silent during the drive to the house.

Mary reached across the seat and took Stephanie’s hand in hers and squeezed it comfortingly.

At William’s suggestion they had agreed to go back to the house on Decatur Road because the press would be staking out the Radisson where Stephanie was staying. Stephanie would return to the hotel once things had quietened down. The house now technically belonged to Mary. As part of the divorce settlement the deeds had been transferred into Mary’s name. They were wasting no time splitting their assets because regardless of the verdict Stephanie might be subject to a civil suit by Jeremy Wallace’s family although they had not indicated that was their intention.

Inside the house Mary led the way into the room which had once been Stephen Nielsen’s study but was now Mary’s reading room and where she did her art. The big desk was gone, replaced by easy chairs, a low table and a workbench scattered with art supplies. Some of Mary’s artwork hung in the spaces on the walls not filled with bookshelves.

Both women took off their jackets and kicked off their high heels. Mary briefly massaged her toes and Stephanie recalled briefly her fascination with her wife’s toes encased in the reinforced footlets of her stockings.

“You didn’t waste any time changing things to suit your new lifestyle,” Stephanie commented while Mary went to the little wet bar and poured drinks.

“You can’t talk to me about changing things. You became a whole new person,” Mary replied flippantly, her back to Stephanie, making drinks.

“This is the room where you used to change from Stephen to Stephanie. This is the room where you used to make assignations with strangers or arrange your next meeting with Jeremy Wallace and I was blissfully unaware,” Mary turned and offered Stephanie a drink.

“I can’t go over this again Mary. We’ve had counselling, we’ve had multiple sessions with Helena Strauss and we have both had to talk about our private lives in court and seen it splashed across the media,” Stephanie slumped into an easy chair.

She was wearing the same conservative knee-length pencil skirt, pale-pink satin blouse and transparent hosiery that she had worn when she had given her testimony. Mary was wearing a bone business suit cut similarly to Mary’s except the skirt was a little shorter.

“I’m sorry but I can’t help feeling a little bitter now that the trial is over. I’ve been asked to come in and see the board at the hospital after the verdict is rendered,” Mary flopped down in a seat beside Stephanie.

“Are they going to fire you?” Stephanie asked.

“They think they are but I’m going to quit and threaten them with a lawsuit if they don’t pay me a good severance package. You’re not the only one with a lawyer wrapped around her finger. My guy will sue their asses for wrongful termination if they don’t cough up,” Mary smiled sweetly.

“You go girl, but I don’t think I have William Sanford wrapped around my finger,” Stephanie blushed.

“Methinks the lady doth protest too much,” Mary chuckled.

“I see the way he looks at you. I asked you six months ago when we first met him ‘does he want to fuck you yet?’ and you told me he despises you. He doesn't now, that’s for sure,” Mary chuckled again and sipped her drink.

“It would be highly inappropriate for a lawyer to have a relationship with a client during a trial,” Stephanie’s blush deepened.

“Oh, I wouldn’t blame you for fucking him. He’s a dish and I’ve seen the pictures of the men you met with and of Jeremy Wallace. William Sanford is just your type. I’d fuck him,” Mary laughed light-heartedly.

Stephanie laughed along with her and took a long pull on her drink. Mary reached in her purse for her cigarettes.

“Can I have one of those?” Stephanie asked.

“We both quit when we got married,” Mary admonished Stephanie but offered her the pack anyway.

They both lit up and blew smoke at the ceiling.

“Would you really fuck him?” Stephanie took up where their conversation had stalled.

“Why not, William is the stereotype isn’t he: tall dark and handsome, great hair, a dashing lawyer, articulate and broody. My lawyer is a balding dweeb but he’s ruthless,” Mary quipped.

“You told them about our little joke,” Stephanie mused.

Mary looked at her quizzically.

“You told the court that we both joked occasionally about me chasing secretaries around the office and you being pursued by handsome young doctors. And the look on that fuckwit ADA’s face when you said that you bet he would get off imagining us fucking, that was priceless,” Stephanie’s laughter was genuine.

“Would you like to?” Mary extinguished her cigarette in an elaborate crystal ashtray.

“Would I like to what?” Stephanie was a little stunned.

“Would you like to fuck? If you go to prison the only sex you will be getting is when three big bald tattooed guys hold you down so they can take turns buggering you in the shower or maybe they will make you their bitch and put you in a French maid’s outfit and have you clean their cells between blowjobs and sodomy,” Mary sniggered.

“You can be cruel sometimes Mary. I’m pretty sure I’ll be housed in a special wing or something if they don’t send me to a women's prison. That comment really hurt me Mary, you know what happened to me when I was in college,” Stephanie crushed out her cigarette.

“I know now. You never told me about it. I had to find out about it in court. I’m sorry Stephanie; that was cruel of me. Anyway I think you will be found not guilty,” Mary got up and sat down on the arm of the chair where Stephanie was sitting and patted her on the shoulder.

“I forgive you. Anyway it should be me asking your forgiveness, I’m the one who led the double life,” Stephanie patted Mary on the knee.

“And I never suspected. Everything seemed normal and our sex life was great. You did like me to wear nylons and sexy lingerie though. Did you imagine that it was you wearing the nylons and panties when we fucked?” Mary whispered.

“Not really. You just looked to so hot dressed like that and I love the feel of nylons and satin,” Stephanie admitted.

“Even on me?” Mary inched her skirt up higher, exposing her nylon-clad thighs and the lacy bottom of her satin panties.

“Especially on you,” Stephanie put her hand on Mary’s leg and lazily stroked it.

“So do you wanna? Do you want to fuck one last time for old time’s sake? I’ve never fucked you since you transitioned,” Mary caressed Stephanie’s breast through her satin blouse.

Stephanie brushed Mary’s hand away but Mary rested it on Stephanie’s thigh.

“I’ve often wondered what it would be like to have sex with another woman. I fooled around a little with my roommate in college but it never went anywhere. Anyway, technically we are still married. We wouldn’t be doing anything wrong,” Mary circled her fingers on Stephanie’s knee.

Whether it was relief that the trial was finally over, the alcohol or the fact that Stephanie still had feelings for her spouse didn’t really matter. What mattered was that Stephanie was suddenly aroused and in need of comfort and Mary was attractive and sexy and available.

“For old time’s sake then,” Stephanie whispered and got to her feet.

Mary stood too and they gazed into each other’s eyes questioningly. Was this right? Should they be doing this after all that they had both been through? Then they kissed and Stephanie stopped trying to rationalise.

Stephanie and Mary found comfort in each other's arms; two women cuddling and nuzzling but there was an undercurrent of desire there. They were both acutely aware of Stephanie's penis pressing on Mary's belly. Mary was becoming a little wet inside her panties and her breasts were tingling. This was how Stephen used to make her feel when he wanted sex and would cuddle up to her and press his needs on her.

Stephanie kissed Mary gently on the lips. She tasted sweet, her lips soft just as Stephanie remembered them. Their kisses became more impassioned as they crushed their lips together and Mary slipped her tongue into Stephanie's mouth. Stephanie had never done this before; had sex with a woman while she presented femme and it was delightful, her cock throbbed inside her pantyhose and panties and Mary felt it pulsing on her belly.

“Are you sure we should be doing this?” Stephanie felt another pang of guilt but Mary didn’t reply.

Instead Mary kissed Stephanie softly and slid her hand along Stephanie's thigh, circling her fingers on her silky pantyhose. Her fingers continued upwards, under Stephanie’s skirt, to the crevice where Stephanie's thighs joined her torso and stroked the delicate flesh there. Mary loved it when Stephen used to do it to her and she was sure that Stephanie would like it.

The featherlight touch of her wife's fingers on her upper thighs caressing her flesh through her gossamer nylons was delightful and Stephanie reached down and stroked Mary's thigh clad in her slinky pantyhose.

When she used to secretly crossdress and since her transition Stephanie had never thought of Mary carnally. She only felt desire for other crossdressers and men, and since transitioning she had only had sex with William. Stephanie admired other women but did not desire them. Mary too was a little confused. Despite her brief dalliance in college she had never seriously considered having sex with another woman. But this was different. Her soon to be ex-husband was now this gorgeous, sexy creature with whom she had made love with on countless occasions when she was a man. There was something inexplicably naughty about having sex with ‘Stephen’ now that she was a woman.

Mary's fingers crept across the front of Stephanie's panties and Stephanie shivered as she felt the soft caress of her wife's fingers on her panty-clad penis.

"Your panties are wet," Mary whispered and giggled.

"I wonder why?" Stephanie sniggered and then she gasped as Mary gently grasped her penis through her panties and pantyhose.

The satin panties and diaphanous pantyhose chafing against Stephanie's hard cock felt delightfully decadent as Mary gently stroked Stephanie's cock.

Mary took Stephanie's hand and guided it under her skirt and between her legs and Stephanie could feel the heat of Mary’s quim through her panties and hose. She could feel the outline of Mary's mons and she could feel that Mary’s panties were becoming damp.

Stephanie explored the folds and crevices of Mary’s vulva through the sleek fabric moulded to her sex. It had been so long since Stephanie had touched her wife’s vagina that she had forgotten how amazingly complex a woman’s sex organs were. She felt Mary shudder and groan as her fingers pressed into Mary’s labial folds. Mary stroked Stephanie's hard cock through her panties and pantyhose. It was a bizarre feeling, her husband’s hard cock swathed in ladies undergarments, but it was also very arousing.

Feelings of carnal delight radiated from Mary's pudenda as Stephanie held her tight and kissed her passionately while Stephanie gently caressed her sex. To Mary it felt a little strange being kissed and caressed by another woman, although admittedly this woman possessed a potent and virile appendage in her panties.

The softness of Stephanie's body, the feel of her pert breasts through her sleek satin blouse, the hem of her skirt tickling Mary's wrist as she reached under it to grasp the throbbing appendage encased in satin and nylon and the scent of Stephanie's perfume and the taste of her makeup was a beguiling combination. She was making love with a beautiful mature woman who possessed a large penis and Mary was becoming incredibly aroused.

The fact the gorgeous mature woman had once been her husband and now presented as a foxy, sophisticated woman only inflamed her desire. Stephanie recalled the many times she had made love to Mary while Mary was wearing pantyhose and panties and she instinctively opened the folds of Mary's sex and was pressed two fingers into her cleft and rubbed Mary's slinky pantyhose on her labia, occasionally brushing Mary’s clitoris with a fingertip to tease her.

Mary softly squeezed Stephanie's cock. She recalled the heft of it. She had always been impressed by its girth, and she began to slowly stroke it causing Stephanie to moan as the silky fabric of her panties and hose grazed her sensitive organ causing another release of pre-ejaculate that soaked Stephanie's already wet panties. Stephanie's tongue writhed in Mary's sweet mouth, and she held Mary tight, encouraging her to keep stroking her quivering organ. Feelings of blissful sensuality were building and Stephanie could feel her orgasm simmering deep inside her, waiting to erupt as she pressed her fingers deeper into Mary's cleft.

"Oh god!" Mary gasped as Stephanie's fingers grazed her clitoris through her silken undergarments.

Mary let go of Stephanie's cock briefly and unzipped her skirt and let it fall to the floor, followed by her panties. Stephanie also dropped her skirt and gazed at Mary’s pubis and long legs clad in shimmery sheer pantyhose. Mary took Stephanie's hand and put it between her legs and wrapped her body in Stephanie's warm soft embrace and kissed her deeply and searched for Stephanie’s cock.

Stephanie tore a hole in the gusset of Mary’s pantyhose with a long fingernail and explored Mary's sex with her fingertips. It was moist, warm and intriguingly fleshy, the outer folds opening to reveal smaller delicate inner folds that guarded the entrance to her vagina. She pushed a finger into Mary’s tight, sultry hole and was rewarded with a gasp from Mary as Stephanie's thumb found Mary's clitoris and pressed on it.

Mary pushed down on the front Stephanie's underwear, bunching her pantyhose and panties so that Stephanie's erect penis sprang free. She grasped the hard sleek appendage and squeezed it and was rewarded with a mewling groan and a pulsing throb from Stephanie's penis. She could feel the string of slippery pre-ejaculate dangling from the tip of Stephanie's cock.

“Are you still sure we should be doing this?” Mary asked one last time.

Stephanie didn’t answer; her eyes were closed with ecstasy as Mary stroked her throbbing cock. Stephanie lowered Mary down onto the shag pile rug and lay between Mary’s thighs.

Mary guided Stephanie's penis to her succulent cleft and guided it to the entrance of her vagina. The feeling of her cock pressing on her Mary’s vulva was unimaginably gratifying and carnal. Was it wrong what they were doing? They had both agreed to divorce and Stephanie was sure that she was in love with William but for now it just felt right.

The warm fleshy folds of Mary's labia seemed to lure in Stephanie's phallus as they clung to her shaft. The glans of Stephanie's penis was inside Mary's vagina and her soft spongy flesh clutched at the sensitive corona. Such feelings of wanton delight and forbidden pleasure were compelling as much as they were venal.

"Is this wrong Mary?" Stephanie whispered.

"I don’t know Stephanie and I don’t care. Just fuck me and make it all go away," Mary cried and thrust her crotch into Stephanie's and wrapped her legs around Stephanie's waist.

She clung to Stephanie. Her arms wrapped around Stephanie’s neck and her legs locked around her waist as Mary impaled herself on Stephanie's long thick cock, kissing her passionately, her tongue wriggling in Stephanie's mouth.

Stephanie felt Mary’s cunt envelop her throbbing organ, clasping at her engorged flesh. Mary’s steamy maw quivered as the concentric rings of Mary's slippery, spongy clunge milked Stephanie’s penis. Mary's orgasm was shattering. She clung to Stephanie, pressing her body against Stephanie's, wanting to feel her heart beating wildly though her blouse as Stephanie also orgasmed, filling Mary with a flood of hot musky seed that dribbled from her vulva and ran down her thighs.

Stephanie felt the most delicious raw sexually as her engorged phallus throbbed and shuddered deep inside her wife's tight plush vagina and she began to thrust her cock in and out of Mary's steamy hole harder and faster as she came.

Mary was steadily climaxing. Circlets of delight radiated from deep in her vagina as soon as Stephanie's cock slipped into her buttery cunt and when Stephanie actually began to fuck her, Stephanie’s glans pounding on Mary's G-spot and her pubis pressing on Mary's clitoris caused Mary’s orgasm to erupt.

Stephanie continued to fuck Mary vigorously, her engorged cock slamming in and out of Mary’s tight vagina and she could feel their slinky pantyhose rubbing together, taste of their lipstick and the scent of their perfume comingling.

Mary was moaning with lust and desire, her legs wrapped around Stephanie, her crotch rising up off the rug to meet Stephanie's thrusts her orgasm coursed through her body. Mary mewed and moaned and her body shook as she felt Stephanie ejaculate deep in her bruised, sensitive cunt. The woman lying on top her, her face so pretty, her cock so long and hard was still legally her husband but she wouldn’t be for much longer.

They lay on the rug in post-orgasmic bliss until the practicalities of the situation dictated that they extricate themselves from each other.

They both stood, wiping drooling secretions from their genitals, passing the box of tissues back and forth. Then they adjusted their underwear and stepped into their skirts and straightened them.

Mary suddenly burst out laughing.

“How bizarre!’ she continued to laugh and Stephanie couldn’t help but laugh along with her.

“But pretty fucking awesome. You might be a girl now but you have lost none of your technique,” Mary teased.

“Is that what you call a grudge fuck?” Mary asked as she went to the bar and poured more drinks.

“I don’t know what it was but I think it is the last time we will do it,” Stephanie dropped back into the easy chair she had vacated before the sex.

Mary sat down beside her and offered Stephanie a cigarette.

“To an amicable divorce,” Stephanie held out her glass.

“To an amicable divorce,” Mary reciprocated and clinked her glass against Stephanie’s.

That night as Stephanie made love with William she debated with herself whether to tell him what had happened between her and Mary and decided not to. She didn’t want anything to come between them especially now that William had finally told her that he loved her.

She had told William that she loved him too and she didn’t want to ruin their blossoming romance.

After all it would never happen again, Stephanie was determined to remain faithful to William from now on.

Westchester County Court – The Trial – Day Seven

“Has the jury reached a unanimous verdict?” Judge Allison Vogel asked the foreperson.

The foreperson replied that they had.

“Will the defendant please rise,” Judge Vogel directed her gaze towards Stephanie Nielsen who got to her feet alongside William Sanford.

“What say you?” Judge Vogel asked the foreperson.

“In the matter of the State of New York versus Stephanie Nielsen on the count of murder in the first degree… we find the defendant not guilty,” there was a hushed murmur around the courtroom.

“In the matter of the State of New York versus Stephanie Nielsen on the count of murder in the second degree… we find the defendant not guilty,” the murmur rose to a crescendo as reporters clamoured from the court to meet their deadlines.

As the prosecutor had not offered manslaughter as an alternative finding, there was no need to rule on it.

Stephanie hugged William and kissed him chastely on the cheek and then she turned and hugged and kissed Mary. ADA Gerald Thatcher sat forlornly at the prosecutor’s table thinking that his run for election as District Attorney would have to wait at least another year.

Epilogue

One year later…

Mary was propped on the bed in the expensive hotel room, smoking an illicit cigarette, her laptop open on the coverlet beside her. She was massaging her feet after a long day. Stephen would have loved it because she was still wearing her nylons and he used to spend hours playing with her feet and toes encased in the gauzy reinforcements of her stockings.

“Pervert,” she chuckled to herself.

She had known about Stephen’s crossdressing for nearly two years. At first it was the little things. He had always had a fascination with lingerie, nylons and heels but so what? That’s why women wore them for fuck sake, because men loved women dressed that way. But Mary had noticed the skerricks of eyeliner, the traces of lipstick in the corners of his mouth, the faint whisper of that awful Dior Poison perfume that was so cloying.

At first she thought he was having an affair… well he kind of was, but not the type of affair she had at first assumed.

Men were so easy to dupe when they become comfortable with deceit. They stopped being as careful as they should be and Stephen, it still grated on her a little to call her ex-spouse Stephanie, had become complacent.

Mary was able to take Stephen’s keys to a strip mall key-cutter and have duplicates made and she soon discovered his hiding place in the kneehole of his desk. The laptop, the burner phone, the garage door opener and the key fob were arranged neatly on the shelves in the hidey hole. It had taken her a while to discover the suitcase but she found it. She had plenty of time to explore these things while Stephen was at work or away for business.

The contents of the suitcase had stunned her at first but she soon realised what they implied. Mary was a woman of the world and she had seen plenty of transvestite hookers and drunken drag queens sitting in the waiting room of the emergency department of the hospital where she worked.

Getting into Stephen’s secret laptop and burner phone had taken some ingenuity but time was on her side. As an executive administrator she had a great deal of interaction with the hospital's IT department and she knew that one of the young men who worked there had a crush on her.

She traded sex for services which was the most pragmatic thing to do. She didn’t even have to get undressed or go to a seedy motel somewhere. David Linton, the young man infatuated with her, would come to her office when she had the night shift, lock the door, bend Mary over the desk and have his way with her. Or if she was lucky he might just settle for a blowjob.

For these services he cracked the password on Stephen’s computer and on his cheap burner phone.

“He should have bought an Apple; I would never have got into it,” David commented one evening while Mary was on her knees in front of him sucking his cock.

Mary didn’t mind performing these duties. She was not above fucking a young intern or two who took her fancy and had had brief affairs with two doctors.

David Linton was easily able to copy the settings on the garage door remote for the Franklin Manor underground parking garage onto a cheap version of the same type that Mary purchased online but getting him to duplicate the fob that activated the elevator and opened the stairwell doors had cost her a little dignity. Why were men so infatuated with anal sex? She’d just found it uncomfortable but David seemed to immensely enjoy buggering her. She was glad when she no longer needed his services.

At first she was appalled by what she found on the laptop: pictures of Stephanie having sex with men and the plethora of cheesecake and pornographic imagery. Mary was surprised at how passable Stephanie was. If she had ever passed Stephanie on the street she would never have guessed that Stephanie was her husband. Mary had actually been a little jealous.

Scrolling though the emails and online activity had at first repulsed and embittered her. Her husband was dressing up as a woman and meeting strange men in hotels and having sex. Her initial urge was to confront him with the damning evidence but the more she thought about it, the more she realised that if she took her time she could wreak her revenge more savagely.

After the initial shock she came to terms with her husband’s philandering. After all, wasn’t she also being unfaithful when the mood struck her. The way she saw it, it was tit-for-tat… Stephanie was fucking strangers a couple of times a month and she was fucking doctors on a similar schedule. When she came to realise that Stephanie would only meet with these strangers once and then cut off all contact, ghosting they call it, she reconciled herself to it. He was being unfaithful behind her back and she was being unfaithful behind his back.

But she could not tolerate Stephanie's ongoing relationship with Jeremy Wallace. The more she read their correspondence and text messages the angrier and more embittered she became. They were lovers and there was no doubt that Jeremy loved Stephanie and was even willing to come out openly if Stephanie would leave Mary and go live with him. Jeremy implored Stephanie to undergo gender affirming surgery and live the life he believed she deserved to live.

Mary was consoled a little that Stephanie refused to do so because of her love and devotion to Mary but there was no doubt that Stephanie also loved Jeremy. They had been in a three year relationship for fuck sake! Jeremy knew things about her husband that even she didn’t. Not just sexual things but her husband’s hopes, dreams and aspirations.

A little fucking around on the side was acceptable but being in love with someone else was not.

Jeremy Wallace needed to be dealt with and Stephen needed to be taught a lesson, even though it would ruin their marriage.

That was when Mary had David Linton copy the garage door opener and offered her ass in exchange for him making a duplicate of the fob.

Mary was patient. In her free time she stalked Jeremy Wallace and used that garage door opener and key fob to access his building during the day. She had been to apartment 3F in Franklin Manor many times. Never inside of course but she had stood outside the door shaking with rage knowing that a man her husband was in love with lived inside. She’d even bumped into that idiot supervisor once and given him a cheery hello. She had nearly pooped her drawers when she ran into him in the courthouse but he didn’t remember her.

Mary noted the position of the security cameras and figured out their blind spots and over time she figured out how she could enter Franklin Manor through the garage door, use the fob to open the staircase and access the third floor without being seen.

When she was ready to act she staged the burglary and called the police, encouraging Stephen to ensure that the theft of his .38 handgun was listed on the crime report. On the night of the murder she had gone to work as usual knowing from the text messages that she read on Stephen’s burner phone that Stephanie and Jeremy had an assignation arranged for that night.

She had planned everything down to the last detail and rehearsed it many times. If it didn’t go to plan there would be plenty of other nights that she could execute her scheme.

As it turned out everything worked swimmingly.

At 3am, other than the Emergency Department, the hospital was deadly quiet and Mary told the front desk that she was going into her office to catch up on some work and was not to be disturbed unless it was a genuine emergency that required her administrative skills, which was unlikely at that hour.

She had slipped out of the hospital unnoticed and driven to Franklin Avenue in her Mercedes just in time to see Stephanie’s Lexus exit the underground car park. Using the remote and the key fob she had made her way to the third floor undetected and stood outside the door to apartment 3F around 3:45am. She put on the surgical gloves and took the pistol from her purse and knocked on the door.

Thinking that Stephanie had returned for some reason Jeremy Wallace had opened the door and at first mistook Mary for Stephanie.

The smile on his face turned to a look of incomprehension and then horror when he saw the pistol in Mary’s hand. Jeremy was still naked and erect and Mary noted with disgust the appendage that so fascinated her husband. The rest was easy.

She closed the door behind her; backed Jeremy into the bedroom, where he instinctively fell on the bed. She stood in the doorway and emptied the pistol into his body. She dropped the pistol and carefully retraced her steps. She heard the police siren in the distance when she stopped on a quiet street and disposed of the surgical gloves in the trash.

No one at the hospital had even noticed her absence.

When she went home after her shift she had even gone to bed wearing only her pantyhose and panties hoping Stephen might fuck her one last time before he was arrested. It would have been the revenge fuck of the century but the police had acted too quickly. At least she got to fuck Stephanie after the trial to make up for it.

Even her abysmal performance on the witness stand had not been enough for the jury to find Stephanie guilty. That was a disappointment. But revenge is a dish best served cold and she would bide her time before she acted again.

She picked up the laptop and looked at the screen and scowled.

There was a picture of Stephanie Nielsen and William Sanford kissing each other openly in one of New York’s finest restaurants. It had been posted in the gossip column of a major newspaper with the headline: Respected New York Attorney and His Onetime Client Announce Their Engagement

The story began: Criminal attorney William Sanford and notorious transwoman Stephanie Nielsen, found not guilty of murder in the New Rochelle County Court nearly a year ago, have announced their engagement…

Mary tossed the laptop aside.

“Come on Floyd, finish brushing your teeth and get out here and fuck me. I’m not paying you a thousand dollars an hour just to use my bathroom,” Mary called out to the muscular handsome young male model who was using her bathroom.

Yes, revenge was a dish best served cold and Mary was in no rush to deal with her ex-husband and the hot-shot lawyer who had stolen him away.

Time was on her side…

The End

Author’s Note: Any mistakes regarding legal procedure and terminology in this story are all mine. I’m an Aussie transvestite and my knowledge of the American justice system and court procedure comes from watching legal dramas on TV and my old pals Google and Wikipedia. I do know a little about gender dysphoria being on the trans spectrum myself and I certainly know plenty about promiscuity being an avid practitioner. I openly discuss my promiscuity in my ‘True Stories’ series.

I always appreciate feedback and comments so please take some time have your say.

Michele Nylons, November 2024