Thomas was glad that the rental car was heavy enough to barely notice the heavy winds that had come in with the storm. The car's solid construction and the studded snow tires he had insisted upon had saved him at least twice on the way to the resort.

He knew that he only had a couple of miles left before he reached the hotel, but the snow was coming down heavily and the wind was causing a virtual white-out situation. He hadn't seen another car, moving in either direction for over a quarter of an hour, so he crept along so that he would not run into a vehicle that might be stopped ahead of him. Even though it was Christmas Eve, only the most foolish of individuals would have braved the storm, knowing that it was building into what the news was reporting as the blizzard of the decade. Only Santa Claus and Rudolf would be comfortable on a night like this.

He knew that he was a fool to be out on a night like this, but it would have taken more than a blizzard to keep him away from Rachel Marie – her very name rolled off his lips like the kiss of an angel. He was in the business of assessing risk versus reward. He considered the risk of driving in the storm worth it.

He had met Rachel only once, face-to-face, and it had been the most magical night of his life. Not only was she beautiful beyond description; but she was smart, quick witted and delightfully flirtatious. This was not a woman to be taken lightly. He still found it hard to believe a woman like this hadn't been snapped up already.

They had known each other for better than a year before that though. They had found each other by accident in a web chat room, while surveying other writers as part of the on-line creative writing class exercise that they were both taking. They had started out discussing the style and relative merits of one of the writers they were studying and their conversation had blossomed from there. They quickly found that although they had different backgrounds their interests and attitudes on life were very similar. They found themselves chatting whenever they had free time and had collaborated on a couple of assignments for the class, which resulted in both of them getting an excellent grade on their course work.

Thomas had been travelling for his company and then, just six weeks ago, he found himself in Rachel's home town. Having a layover of several hours, he had called her to see if she was free for dinner. As luck would have it, she had no prior plans.

Thomas had arrived at the restaurant early, almost shaking in anticipation. He had requested a table where he could keep an eye on the front door. He had exchanged photographs with Rachel but on the web you never know how honest people are. He glanced up at each woman who entered the room, but none were his date. He looked up from the wine menu he had been scrutinizing and spotted a woman scanning the dining room as if looking for someone. Thomas's heart seemed to stop as he focused on her, an apparition stood framed in the doorway. The picture she had sent didn't do her justice. The woman at the door was surly Aphrodite reincarnated.

The first thing that he noticed about her was her eyes. They were a beautiful jade green and they seemed to glow when the light struck her face just right or it might have just been the affect caused by the constant, pleasant look on her face. She didn't need to smile to let everyone know that she as a happy, friendly person. Her oval face was framed by shoulder-length, soft auburn tresses the color of an autumn moonbeam, it curled slightly at the ends and rested on her broad shoulders. Her nose was a counterpoint to her face, not too long or bulbous and not too short or sharp. All-in-all, it was a face that you wanted to keep looking at. That was obvious from the behavior of some of the other gentlemen in the lounge.

Rachel saw him starting to rise from his chair and she walked toward him, flashing him a million-dollar smile. Her understated heels brought her to eye-level with him and the edges of her eyes seemed to crinkle when they made eye contact.

Thomas was the object of envy from every other man in the room when he bowed slightly to Rachel and kissed the back of her hand instead of shaking it when she held it out in greeting. The chivalrous action made her blush and she giggled in a delightful school girl way. The other envious patrons knew who Rachel would be spending the evening with and each wished that it was himself. He took her arm and tucked into his own and guided her to their table.

Ordering and eating almost passed unnoticed, Thomas only pecked at his meal. The food was of little consequence, as they resumed their last on-line conversation as if they had never paused. They both found themselves enjoying themselves and they moved from one topic to another, enjoying the fact that there was no pause in their conversation. Before they knew it, the manager was standing at their table explaining that the restaurant had closed half an hour ago and that they really must leave now.

Both Thomas and Rachel had been embarrassed to realize how much time they had spent talking. They had also been thrilled to know that here was someone who could totally engage their hearts and minds that they could lose track of the world around them. Thomas had walked Rachel to her car and kissed her chastely good night, after extracting a promise that they would find an opportunity to meet again when they had more than an evening to spend together.

@ @ @ @

It hadn't been too difficult to talk Rachel into spending Christmas with him, as neither had any family. He told her tongue in cheek he was sorry but they would have to share a room; the hotel was full for the holidays. Her only demand had been for separate beds and a promise from him to be a good boy and behave himself. For the entire three hour drive up Thomas had amused himself playing mental games over what constituted being a 'good boy.'

Pulling into the parking lot, he found it hard to locate an empty parking space. Thomas had to force his car door open fighting against the storm's strong gusts. He ventured out of the warmth of the car and made his way to the rear of the car. He opened the rear hatch and pulled his suitcase out and set it in a small snow drift that had quickly formed next to his rear tire. He reached back into the rear compartment to retrieve his special package. He clutched it to his chest, careful not to squish the bow. He picked up his bag, leaned into the icy wind, and trekked toward the front door. As the sensor detected his presence, the doors slid open and he was hit with a blast of warm dry air. He gladly stepped inside and checked his watch. As the doors slid closed behind him, he stamped his feet to dislodge the accumulation of snow and ice. He shook his heavy coat to free it of the accumulated moisture, producing a secondary flurry of snow as the white flakes drifted to the titled entryway where it quickly melted and added to the puddles on the floor. Tom's eyes were immediately drawn to the field stone fireplace that went from floor to the top of the vaulted ceiling; it brought an Aspen-like feel to the Midwest hotel. After the frigid walk through the crowed parking lot, he luxuriated in the warmth of the lobby. He walked in the direction of the reception desk and placed his case at the periphery of a mountain of other luggage piled just inside the doors.

He could see that the reception desk was being mobbed by a frenzied horde of stranded travelers trying to find rooms. The highway patrol had just closed the interstate highway, stranding hundreds of travelers trying to get home for the holidays. Thomas casually moved to the far end of the desk to the area reserved for Gold Card holders. He waited patiently for service and an assistant manager eventually made her way over. He handed her his Hilton Honors card and waited for her to process his reservation.

"Welcome back Mr. Price, it's always a pleasure."

She handed him his key card and said, "Your deluxe suite, with two queen beds has been set up just as you requested. Fresh flowers and champagne are in the room. The fire is lit and ready for you."

"Has my...guest checked in yet?"

"You mean the pretty redhead? She arrived about 45 minutes ago. We issued her a room key. I can ring the room, if you like but I believe I saw her headed for the lounge a few minutes ago."

"No, that won't be necessary; our arranged rendezvous time isn't for a few minutes. I'll take a mug of that hot chocolate you are distributing and wait for her by the fire. It will give me a chance to thaw out."

"Certainly sir, if there is anything you need just ask. Let me get the bellboy to take your luggage and the box you're holding to your room."

"Thanks my bag is over there, it’s the black one. I'll hang on to this box, it's kind of special."

"Certainly sir."

Tom looked down briefly to sign his room registration as the manager snapped her fingers to summon a forlorn, pimple faced adolescent boy that appear to be too young to be working fulltime.

"Billie, please take the gentleman's bag up to suite 327."

Having been eavesdropping on the conversation, Bill sprang into action envisioning a generous tip. He vaulted over several bags and grabbed up a black bag. Much to his surprise, the bag was lighter than he expected and it literally flew up and the latches released, spilling the contents all over the floor.

To young Bill's horror all kinds of sex and bondage gear and fell out and scattered about.

An old grandmother type looked faint as a lifelike plastic dildo skidded to a stop at her feet.

The mortified bellboy looked at Thomas and said, "I'm so sorry sir, I'll pick up your things and get your bag to your room."

Tom smiled and replied, "I have a lot of those same toys at home, but that isn't my bag."

He pointed to a bag that was identical to the one that had spilt open. "See the one with the yellow name tag on it? That one belongs to me."

The bellhop seemed a bit addled by the whole thing and was stuffing all the sex toys back in the bag as fast as he could. The bag sat upright and for every two items he threw into the suitcase one seemed to fall out. Then catastrophe struck, a very large and realistic dildo fell to the title floor and it started vibrating, bouncing off the ceramic title and making a very distinctive sound. The bellhop picked it up and tried unsuccessfully to find a way to turn it off. Tom took pity on the poor man and said, "That's an XL1000 model I believe. You must squeeze the ball sack to turn it off."

The desk clerk, not being pleased at having to work on Christmas Eve, took out her anger on the poor boy and teased him by telling him to make sure that everything is accounted for and in good working order.

She said in mock indignation, "I don't want the owner complaining that she can't find her favorite vibrator."

Tom arched one eyebrow in astonishment and stood grinning at the bellhop's red face.

The brief disturbance alerted an elderly woman, who it turned out was using the less than original nom de plume of Mrs. Smith. She gave the impression of a woman who tended to look down her nose at everyone. It was obvious that she once had a spectacular figure but it was starting to turn to plump. She strolled over to examine the cause of the commotion. In an elegant and aristocratic tone she announced, "That is my luggage! What in the world are you doing going through my things? I'll have you arrested, that's an invasion of my privacy!"

She turned to her young companion man who was very attentive and deferential to her and her obvious boy toy. He was clueless as to the contents of the valise and equally embarrassed by its revelation. She dictated to him, "Donald, see to my luggage. Get that boys name in case there is any damage to 'my' paraphernalia, and I want you to personally ensure all our luggage is taken to our suite. I'll be in the bar, I need a brandy."

She reached into her purse and fished out a dollar bill. Stuffing it in his coat pocket she said, "If you're thirsty, use the vending machine and get yourself a soft drink. Wait for me at the elevator with our bags."

Thomas, still grinning at the small one play act at the reception desk, walked into the inviting lounge, the light from the roaring fire danced across the room making it welcoming. The oak log fire burning in the open grate, its light danced over the room accompanied by the crackling and popping as the oak logs dissolved into ash. The hearth was inviting to the weary traveler, the fireplace was the room's most dramatic feature an impressive rustic focal point. The wood fire blazing cheerily sent its warmth and light far out into the lobby. The space was aglow with the ambiance of the cozy fire. The natural stone fireplace created a warm inviting space for guests to congregate, as waiters flittered about the room distributing mugs of hot chocolate to guests hoping for rooms.

Tom held his steamy mug of hot coco with the little marshmallows melting and forming a taste delight of sugary skim on top of the beverage, as he strolled over to cozy up to the fire. Tongues of flame licked the brick walls in a vengeance as if the fire had a life of its own. He got lost as he stared into the flames as they danced in the fireplace and watched in awe as the plumes of black smoke raced up the chimney. The smell of the wood and the crackling sound transported him from the winter hell outside to a place of warmth and peace.

Tom finished his drink and felt refreshed, checking his watch he realized it was time to meet Rachel. He handed his empty mug to a waiter and made his way to the elevator.

Tom watched the young man who was accompanying Mrs. Smith as he struggled with several heavy cases, waiting for the elevator car to empty. Several people pushed pass him into elevator. Mrs. Smith who was already there spoke over her shoulder in an imperial manner without turning her head, "Donald stop dilly dallying around and get our cases in here so we can get to our room. I have big plans for tonight."

Tom moved aside to let the young man into the elevator and said to him quietly, "Have a good time, but do me a favor try and keep the noise down."

The lad looked away confused by the comment for a moment before his face turned fiery red. Tom looked up poker-faced and could see the face of Mrs. Smith watching him in the mirrored panel of the rear of the elevator. The cougar caught his eye and gave him a knowing smile and a slight, almost undistinguishable nod.

Donald pushed into the lift and sat the case down, "Yes, madam, it won't happen again, I'm sorry."

"Not as sorry as you are going to be, now take my arm and let's get moving."

He grabbed a hold of Mrs. Smith's arm with his free hand.

Her luggage filled the remaining space in lift. Tom, still clutching his package, decided to wait, he was still a few minute early. He headed back to the lounge to wait until it was time to head upstairs.

@ @ @ @

Meanwhile, in Suite 327, an entirely different drama was taking place.

Rachel sat huddled in her chair, her hands clenched between her knees. It was all she could do to keep from shaking from a combination of nervousness and fear. She looked into the delightful fire burning in the room's hearth, trying to analyze why she felt this way and what she could possibly do about it.

She had a good self-image and knew she was a remarkable person, certainly a one of the kind. Any man should be happy to spend time with her. Yet there were still doubts; was she good enough for a handsome man of the world like Thomas. He had given every indication he had strong feelings for her, yet hadn't actually used the 'L' word. Would he accept her with her birth defect, or feel sorry for her? The latter option would be harder to handle than revulsion.

What was she doing? She'd met Thomas only that once on a whim and had thoroughly enjoyed their time together. But most of what she really knew about him was what he had told her in their on-line chats.

Did she truly want to be here? She could just grab her bags and go back down to her car. He wouldn't even know that she had even been here. It would just look like she had changed her mind and Thomas would think that she had stood him up. She could come up with an excuse to give him when she talked to him online next time.

Then she mentally scolded herself. She was an adult! She knew what might happen this weekend and it had excited her all the way here. She didn't know what Thomas might be anticipating, especially since she had insisted upon two beds. But the possibility that they might be in the same bed had gone through her thoughts several times and contributed to some graphic fantasies.

Thomas had impressed her when they had met that time and she hoped that her feelings about him were correct. The thought of doing more than just talking or chatting added to the fluttery feeling in her belly. What if he wanted her to touch him down there? Or is he wanted to touch her. How would she react? How might he react?

A knock on the door startled Rachel and she quickly glanced at the room clock. She was relieved to see the red LED numbers indicated it was not the appointed time for their rendezvous. She mumbled to herself, "If he has shown up early without giving me time to get dressed, I'll never forgive him!"

Rachel cautiously moved to the door and with the chain lock firmly in place opened the door and peaked into the hallway. Seeing the hotels bellhop, she let out a heavy sigh and said, "Yes, what is it?"

The young man replied, "I'm sorry to disturb you miss I have Mr. Price's suitcase. He asked that I deliver it to his room."

"Is he here?" Rachel asked breathlessly.

"Yes ma'am. The last I saw of him, he was in the lobby standing by the fire."

Rachel pulled her bathrobe tightly about her and opened the door allowing the bellhop to deliver his load. He put the case on one of the beds and stood waiting for his tip. It took Rachel a minute to grasp why he was stalling before she went to her purse and found her wallet. She had no idea what was appropriate for a tip, so she took out a $5 bill and handed it to the lad, who seem appreciative of the tip and wished her a Merry Christmas as he left.

She checked the clock and realized she had fifteen minutes to get ready. Why had she waited to get dressed? She knew why, she wasn't 100% convinced he would show up. But he was here so she went to the closet where she took out the long halter dress she had purchased the minute Thomas had extended his invitation to spend the holidays together. She held up the Hot Pink chiffon floor length A-line Princess Halter dress and smiled. It emphasized her slim figure, and with her hair hanging about her shoulders she knew she would look gorgeous.

During their only brief encounter Rachel felt a physical attraction to this man, she couldn't explain. Thomas had been a perfect gentleman; she wasn't going to let him get away with that this time. The deep V neck and slit at the front, and semi sheer skirt was perfect for a night of seduction. She slipped the dress on and pulled up the back hidden zipper. She admired herself in the room's full length mirror and thought the dress accentuated her best features and yet still managed to conceal her less than feminine attributes.

She sat at the desk in the room that she had converted into her personal vanity makeup center and applied her cosmetics like she had been doing it her entire life. She was satisfied with the dramatic, almost mysterious, effects her smoky eye makeup gave her. With one eye on the clock she spent the available time with a hairbrush and curling iron trying to get her hair perfect. It gave her time to contemplate the possibilities the weekend presented for her. On the positive side, it could mean a lifetime of joy and contentment with the man she had fallen in love with; albeit over the internet. Nonetheless, she was head over heels in love with the person she spent so many hours chatting with. On the other hand there was always the possibility that once Thomas got to know the real Rachel he might reject her like her last boyfriend had. She thought from their talks that Thomas was open minded enough to except her flaws, but only time would tell. Still she squirmed in her seat at the possibilities his acceptance or rejection might bring.

She slipped on a pair of high heels and pulled up their back zippers. She was glad she had decided on nylons over the yucky pantyhose. Next she fastened her favorite helio dangling earrings; she adored the way they just lightly brushed against her bare shoulders when she moved her head. One last time to the bathroom where she added a final coating of pink lip gloss, and a spritz of her White Diamonds perfume. With sweaty palms, she picked up her satin and crystal clutch handbag, ensured she had her room key and posed in front of the mirror trying to find any flaws in her presentation. Satisfied she looked as good as possible considering her nervous state she headed into the hall to meet her holiday companion. She stepped into an over crowed elevator and waited for what seemed an eternity for the doors to close.

Finally, they arrived at the first floor. With her heart aflutter, she took a few tentative steps towards the lobby. With Christmas carols playing lightly in the background, the mass of humanity clustered in the lobby made Rachel feel almost claustrophobic and her anxiety rose to unprecedented levels. Her nerve abandoned her and she turned to escape and bumped into a grumpy elderly woman, who looked down her nose at Rachel and intoned in an aristocratic manner, "Watch where you're going young lady. Have some respect for your elders."

Before Rachel could apologize, the woman headed into the bar. The crowd continued to crush in on her; she looked for an escape route. Suddenly she felt a tap on her shoulder that made her jump. Turning her head to see who it was she saw Thomas standing there with a look of pure bliss on his face.

"There you are. I was about to come up when I saw you walk in. My lord, your beauty took away my breath! How have you been?" As much as Tom wanted to embrace her, he could tell that Rachel wasn't ready for that at the moment.

Rachel took a deep breath to settle her nerves and replied, "To be honest I was as nervous as a mouse in a barn full of hungry cats. I wasn't sure you'd be here."

A concerned Thomas asked, "Why would you think that?"

"With the blizzard outside I was afraid I would be spending Christmas all alone again."

Tom closed the distance between them and impulsively gave Rachel a reassuring hug. "It would take more than a snow storm to keep me from getting here to you. I have been living for this day, not even the storm of the century was going to keep me away."

Rachel gave Tom a squeeze in reply to his compliment. Then she inquired, "Would you like to go to our room and freshen up before dinner?"

"No, I think I'll just stand here the rest of the night admiring the most beautiful woman in the state."

Rachel felt the heat on her cheeks, from a bright red blush, and then turned her head as if scanning the room.

"What are you doing?" inquired Tom.

"I'm looking for this ravishing beauty of which you speak," quipped Rachel.

Tom shrugged in defeat and said, "Alright you win, let's go to the bar and have a drink."

One quick glance and it was obvious there was nowhere to sit at the bar. Not to be stymied, Tom handed his package to Rachel said, "Hold this and wait here. I'll get us something."

Tom fought his way to the bar and finally got the bartender's attention. He ordered two hot rum toddies – the perfect drink for a night like this. He carried the drinks back to Rachel who had maneuvered to a position with her back to the roaring fire. As Tom approached, she answered his unasked question, "I was a bit chilly so I decided to camp here. Is that alright?"

Tom set the drinks on the mantel and said "Sure, open your Christmas present. That might help keep the chill off your shoulders."

Rachel wore a big smile as she carefully removed the large white bow and handed it to Tom to hold while she investigated the contents of the oblong box. An onlooker would have thought that they were looking at a little girl opening a special gift from under the tree. Finally, she removed the tissue paper hiding the contents and let out a high pitch squeal of delight, attracting attention from everyone in the lobby and those eating dinner in the restaurant that overlooked the massive reception area. Inside the box was the most fabulous white Mink Wedding Stole.

"Is this for me?" she asked in a hushed voice.

Wrapping the stole around Rachel's shoulders, Tom said, "Of course it is, it would look silly on me! The salesman said it is the perfect accessory for a winter wedding."

At the mention of the word wedding the people around the two stopped talking and listened.

Rachel was lost in the luxuriousness of the fur and its silk lining; she finally had to ask, "Who's getting married?"

Tom dropped to one knee and took her hands in his he said, "You are if you'll have me. Rachel Marie, I love you. Will you be my wife?"

The room held their collective breath to hear her response.

She looked into his eyes and answered, "Thomas I do love you, with my whole being."

At which the room erupted in applause. Tom stood, feeling rather foolish kneeling, so that only he heard the rest of her reply. "But please forgive me; I am hesitant to give you a direct answer to your proposal until you know all there is about Rachel. There is something I am obliged to tell you about myself. I have a birth defect that you might find repugnant; others have when they discovered my secret."

"There is no physical attribute that can dissuade me from loving you."

"Oh Thomas, don't make promises you can't keep."

He stood there, confused and disappointed. He comforted himself with the fact that she had not turned down his proposal. He smiled at her as he handed her a glass and they toasted Marry Christmas.

Tom managed to find an unoccupied foot stool and pulled it over near the hearth. The two shared the stool, in perfect harmony and sipped their drinks, lost in the other's company. The alcohol fueled the glow in their stomachs, the bonfire blanked them in warmth and their shared loved stoked the fires in the souls. Nary was a word spoken between them, yet they communicate volumes though their gaze. Both thought they had found paradise. Tom hoped that his paradise would not leave him.

The notoriety caused by the elegant mink coat and the public proposal, had guests delivering free drinks to the couple as they sat by the fire. It wasn't until the two had consumed a magnum of champagne that had someone sent over, that Tom realized he was the tiniest bit tipsy. Rachel was way past tipsy, she rarely consumed alcohol and never in such quantities. The two stared into the hypnotic flames of the fire, as the last glass of wine was consumed. Rachel finally broke her trance long enough to say, "We have a fire in our room and it is a lot more private. How about we go there and maybe if you're a good boy I'll show you my deformity."

Tom leapt to his feet at the invitation and the room began to spin around him. Rachel stood to help stable her future fiancé. She wobbled like a weeble, foolishly assuming she could stabilize her drunken friend. Tom wrapped both arms around her and clung to her as if his life depended on it. He took one step forward and brought them both down crashing to the floor where Tom's head impacted on the stone hearth with a thud. Even though he was only semiconscious, Tom refused to let go of the woman he loved, even as he heard her say, "Please someone help me get him to our room."

The hotel staff rushed over and wouldn't let him be moved until a doctor had given permission first. Tom lay on top of Rachel trapping her and her fur coat under him. He drifted in and out of consciousness, long enough to answer some foolish questions from the doctor.

The doctor pronounced Tom sound enough to be moved claiming he was more drunk than hurt. He prescribed several aspirin, telling Rachel her friend would have a headache in the morning. Rachel sat to one side, wrapped in the cocoon of her fur coat and her head swirling from the drink. She found herself mesmerized by the flames in the fireplace and sat there watching the logs be slowly consumed in the fire.

Tom drifted back to wakefulness to see Rachel seated by the fire, looking into the flames. He moved himself to sit beside her and put his arms around her. Rachel leaned into him fully, partly from the effects of the alcohol and from relief that the man she loved was okay. When she turned to look at him, Tom's mouth was there, covering her own.

Her alcohol addled brain now had to contend with her own passion-stunned mind and also Tom's. Her toes curled as his tongue slipped into her mouth. Her lips tingled as they were squish together with a sense of urgency; then he moved one hand to squeezed one of her breasts, which caused it to feel like it were on fire, she arched her chest trying to push harder against his hand.

A hunger was building deep inside her, threatening to consume her, but something was telling her to try to control the situation. Tom suddenly latched on to one breast; his hand now inside her gown. Suddenly, his mouth replaced his hand on her breast and the cool air caused her nipple to harden as it was exposed. His lips closed around the rock-hard piece of flesh, tongue swirling across it before he began suckling. He was licking and sucking, and then lightly blowing on the damp flesh, making her shiver as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through her.

Eager to help, she shimmied it a little to get the gown out of the way and provide Tom with better access. Her feelings of wrongness grew stronger but were overruled by the electric shocks coming from her breast. She wanted this to go on forever. She was so distracted by these things she hardly noticed when his hand began its exploration of her nether regions. She felt a tickle along her knee as he had snaked one hand beneath the hem of her gown and was teasingly advancing it up her leg, his fingers skating slowly along her silky flesh. She shivered and wiggled beneath him as his ran along the inside of her thigh, moving inexorably to the essence of her being.

The annoying little voice in her ear started to get her attention and she moaned into his ear, "Stop, please."

Tom was a typical guy and his ears did not pass her plea on to his brain. The alcohol and the blow to his head did not help either. He allowed the tips of his fingers to glide across her skin lightly touching the core of her again. Her hips bucked instinctively. The thought of Tom's possible rejection of her drifted away to float in the far reaches of her mind as she was consumed by the different points of pleasure spring to life inside her.

With a groan she said, "Tom, please don't hate me. Let me explain."

Before Tom could respond, someone very close coughed in their ears and said "Excuse me; this is not the place for this kind of activity. I must ask you two to take this to your room, I am sure you will be more comfortable there."

Rachel's eyes became round saucers of shock as she realized they weren't on the floor in their room but rather in the lobby with a large audience observing their passion play. The redness of both of their faces should have made them pass out from the sheer amount of blood being pulled from the rest of their bodies.

Rachel quickly pulled her gown back around her to restore her modesty. She smiled crookedly as she apologized to the hotel manager for the show. Mentally shrugging away her embarrassment of being partially naked in public, she wrapped her fur tightly about her shoulders.

Everyone, around them and in the restaurant above, was watching the two of them have fun on the carpet and enjoying the show. As the manager assisted them both to their feet, he told them quietly that this kind of thing was not uncommon here, but the management still preferred that the athletics take place in the guest's room and not in public. Especially because of the number of children who were stranded with their families this evening.

A pair of older ladies had been watching from their table in the restaurant above. From their expressions, it was obvious that they had been enjoying Tom's display of affection and that it had had an effect upon them.

"Janet, I miss that kind of passion in romance these days," one said to the other, looking rather shyly at her.

Janet reached across the table to take her hand. "I do too Sarah." Standing up, she drew Sarah to her feet and pulled her lightly along with her. "Let's go see if we can recapture some of that feeling." They left the dining area with their arms around each other.

The scene was somewhat different at a table further down the dining room.

A father was giving instructions to his teenage daughter. "Darcy, please take your brother back to the room and get to bed. Your mother and I will be along in a minute." Then he said, "Michael! Stop looking down there and go with your sister!"

Darcy was up and took her brother's hand. As their children we leaving the dining room, Michael looked up at his sister and said, "I think that Dad didn't want us watching those people by the fireplace."

"I think you're right," Darcy answered.

"I don't know why Dad was upset," Michael said. "They were doing the same thing that Mom and Dad do, but they were enjoying it more."

At the table, their father was speaking to his wife. "Let's give them some privacy Dorothy. Come on." He was rose to leave the table, but his wife remained seated.

"Don't be such a prude Howard," she replied. "Those two down there aren't doing anything wrong. In fact, I think that what they're doing is kind of fun."

Howard's eyes widened slightly and he moistened his lips. It was only a few minutes later that he and his wife were telling their children to get some sleep in the other room of their suite. Howard told his children that he would be closing the door to their bedroom so that Santa would not wake them up. As he closed and locked the bedroom door, he turned to his wife with a smile on his face.

Seeing that the impromptu floor show was over, the audience booed the hotel staff, reigniting Rachel's discomfort.

* * * * *

After their hasty retreat from the lobby, the two mortified lovers made it to their room, Rachel still clutching her stole. Thomas only released Rachel's from his embrace long enough to get his key card out to open the door. She had never known such passion could exist; she didn't want him to ever let her go. She shivered, as she realized Tom still was unaware of her deformity. Despite his promises of love, he could still reject her.

Once the door was closed, there was a real sense of privacy. Rachel could read the passion in his eyes and decided now was the time to divulge her secret, before things went too far. She reached around to her back and unhooked her dress, then shrugged her shoulders. Her dress slid off and puddled on the floor around her feet. She took a deep breath, stepped out of her dress and braced herself for the worse. She looked over at Thomas and was startled to see him doffing his clothes, he was shirtless and his pants were down around his feet.

"Tom what are you doing?"

Tom stiffened at what seemed a strange question and arched an eyebrow in curiosity, "Why I'm getting undressed. I assumed we are about to consummate our engagement." Then, as if a light bulb had gone off; he said in a timid voice, "If you want to wait until after the wedding, I'm willing to wait."

Rachel fought off the urge to throw herself at this man. She stood there trembling.

Tom could see that his beloved was upset about something and he asked, "Rachel, is everything alright?"

She smiled tentatively and said, "I could use a drink to stiffen my courage thanks."

Tom scanned the room and spied the minibar. Without freeing his ankles, he shuffled toward the small refrigerator. It wasn't a fast trip with his legs restricted with his pants. Rachel had to bite her lip at the sight of Tom crossing the room with his ridged manhood pointing the way like a divining rod and his family jewels hanging out and swaying back and forth.

"Gin alright?" asked Tom.

With just a hint of a giggle, she replied, "Yes, anything."

He managed the return trip without spilling anything and handed the small bottle to Rachel...who promptly consumed the liquid fire in one gulp. Putting the bottle down, she kicked off her shoes and said, "Thomas, I must show you my deformity. I have an extra appendage that most women don't have."

Thomas smiled a large grin and looked at her nylon covered feet. "Rachel, an extra toe or two doesn't bother me in the least."

Rachel stood as regal as a queen, "I said appendage, not phalanges." She reached down, quickly slid off her panties; spread her legs to release her secret from where it had been safely tucked.

Thomas stood perfectly still, his eyes round as saucers. In a calm voice he asked, "Would you please remove your bra and stockings for me?"

She complied and then Thomas said, "Hold your hair up off your shoulders and slowly turn around for me."

Rachel did as asked and waited with baited breath for his judgment. She prayed like she had never prayed before that he would not reject her. Still he said nothing just stared at her.

She stood as tall as she could, facing him full on with hands on her hips. She was done hiding; it was now all out there for him to see. Still he said nothing, he went to the bed picked up his suitcase and carried it into the bedroom.

Rachel could only assume the worst. She remembered how her parents had rejected her when she told them she was not their son but their daughter. They threw her out of the house. Then there was that terrible Thanksgiving when she had returned home after living on her own for a year.

The effects of her hormones were obvious and her father called her a slut for wearing a form fitting knit dress that showed a little cleavage. She had not seen or spoken to them since that over three years ago.

The heartbreak of rejection was still fresh in her soul. She could hear Thomas coming and braced herself for what was to come. Thomas had lost his trousers and changed into an expensive looking tailored suit. He took several forceful steps toward Rachel; she flinched expecting to get hit. Instead, Tom again dropped to his knee and this time held out a large ring box. "Rachel Marie, I love you, please say you'll be my wife and life partner."

Rachel found herself still stuck in neutral, mentally, and did not fully grasp what was happening.

"But what about my deformity?"

"Darling, I don't see anything that meets that description. I see only the most beautiful person I have ever seen."

"But what about my thing?"

Reaching out, he rested it in the palm of his hand, "I have just two questions, first does it work?"

"No, not the way you mean, it doesn't squirt anymore."

"Alright question two. Is it sensitive enough to bring you pleasure?"

"Yes it is; but...

"Then that is that; you simply have an oversized clit, we can work with that. We will just have to find ways to give each other pleasure, there is no right or wrong. Honey, love is not about sex, it is about caring for the other person.

Tears filled Rachel's eyes as Thomas gave the tip of her 'clit' a sweet kiss.

* * * * *

Rachel lay before the fire, still wrapped in a cocoon of mink. The events of last night had a kaleidoscopic reality to them. She woke slowly, small mewling moans slipping from her lips before she was even conscious of what was causing them. She sighed with a breathy moan as she felt a delightful sensation radiating from her nether regions.

Despite her hangover headache, she felt sore and sated at the same time. She reached out blindly for Thomas knowing that he had to be the source of her bliss. It took a minute for her to find him, he was not directly on top of her, rather he was further down, his face buried between her legs and it felt delicious. She had been afraid he would be repulsed at her misplaced male member. And now he was treating it like a treasure. He swallowed, licked and sucked like it was made of honey. She felt it very unladylike to simply lay there while Tom explored her oversized clit with his mouth.

As her pleasure grew, she reached for him intending to push his head away before it was too late. His tongue rasped over her pleasure center and when he slid a finger into her to join his tongue's caresses, she screeched and bucked like a wild stallion. Wave after wave of pleasure exploded within her as she emptied her essence into his mouth. She had said "it doesn't squirt anymore", but the dam had burst and her normal trickle seemed to turn into a flood. In her wildest dreams she had prayed only for acceptance, now her lover's reaction seemed to be one of enjoyment; it truly was a Christmas miracle.

Much to her relief, Tom moved up her body crawling to cover her. She thought back to last night, her great anxiety of revealing her condition, his acceptance and their first union. It was awkward as both parties were exceedingly nervous. Rachel had shown Tom her deformity. He had said it didn't matter he was in love with the inner person and not concerned by the shell holding her soul. Despite the clumsy start, once that the first time jitters were gone the second go around went much better. With the sexual tensions relieved each partner became more concerned about giving than receiving pleasure. The room had been filled with moans, which seemed to grow to shrieks towards the end.

Tom was totally spent and flushed from his bedroom conquest; the wondrous, glorious, sublime feelings consumed his very being. Before yesterday, he had no inkling that Rachel was anything but 100% woman, he now knew in his heart their physical and emotional bond transcended gender and kindled a flame that seemed unquenchable.

He laid his head on Rachel's very feminine bosom and the words seemed to cascade out of his mouth. He breathlessly asked that age-old question, "That was great for me, how was it for you?"

Rachel was quick to put him in his place with, "It was nice, not what I had expected at all."

Reaching out with her left hand, she laid it lovingly atop of his limp manhood and said, "Maybe it will get better with practice, lots of practice."

Thomas was crestfallen at his failure. Rachel could not contain her composure any longer as she broke out in a huge grin and admitted it had been an earth shattering experience, it was far better than she ever imagined. Still joking she said, "It was probably the best 15 seconds of my life." This prompted Thomas to roll her on top of him where he wrapped his arms around his future wife and squeezed for all he was worth. Surprisingly, he was able to recover and they went at it again. The third time was the charm. They both managed to come together. Once Rachel was able to catch her breath, she patted her lover on the chest and said, "Thank you. That was delightful, you're definitely improving."

The two settled in for a morning of just cuddling until hunger drove them from their warm bed. Standing next to the fireplace still warm with its glowing embers, the two helped each other get dressed. After which they made their way hand in hand to the second floor restaurant where they had entertained so many people the evening before. After a healthy breakfast they returned to their room where they snuggled on the couch and talked. Belated pillow talk if you will. Both opened up their hearts as they discussed things they had been reluctant to talk about before their coming together.

I was asked a question by my Creator.

On the way to work one day, I fell asleep on the bus. I dreamt that I had entered into the presence of my Creator. When He looked at me, I did not know how to act. Should I kneel, bow, prostrate myself at his feet? I ended up kneeling before him.

He put his hand on my shoulder and caused me to stand before him. “What are you doing?”

“I wanted to show you the proper respect and I wasn’t sure how to do it. I thought that kneeling would be proper.”

He smiled. “It does not matter what you do, there will always be someone who would say that you are not doing so properly.”

“For instance, to some of your friends, you are Gloria and to everyone else in your life, you are Paul. You know what we call that, don’t you?”

I looked down, afraid to even look at him. It’s incredibly humbling to know that you really have no secrets from your maker. “Yes, sir. It’s being ‘All Things to All People.” I began to tremble as I knew that I could be facing my judgment right here, right now.”

I heard the smile in his voice, even if he did not laugh. “No, I did not bring you here to judge you. You do that yourself. You are my child and I will love you regardless. There are very few that are not welcome here with me.” He gestured around us and, for the first time, I actually noticed our surroundings. I could see fog and mist, rolling prairies and mountain vistas, all at the same time. Must be the mysteries of paradise.

“Yes, All Things to All People. I can be All Things to All People or One Thing to All People. I choose to be consistent with my children and be the same to you all. Some of you will accept me for what I am, some of you will not. That does not change who I am though. I invited you here today because you needed to know that I am here and I wanted to ask YOU a question.”

As I was waking up, I heard him ask me, “What Will You Be?”

Baby Grows Up

Sure enough Janet found the little store again. The gypsy woman was seated behind her counter like last time, watching over the shelves and tables of antiques. She nodded to Janet as she came through the door pushing the stroller. Baby Sarah's awareness of her surroundings was haphazard these days. Most of the time, her thoughts concerned only with a dry nappy, warmth, food, and Mommy.

Janet was in good spirits. She practically bounced through the store. Her body was lean and tight and her breasts firm and proud, nothing like they would have looked if she had actually been pregnant and given birth to her daughter. Her wavy blonde hair extended halfway down her back, in sharp contrast to the baby's jet black.

"Hello again," Janet said as she wheeled up to the counter with a big smile on her face. "I wanted to thank you so much for the help you gave me and to show off my new daughter."

The old woman returned her smile, knowing that the infant before her had been Janet's husband only a few months ago. Her smile conveyed the satisfaction she felt at transforming another uncaring male into a child who would grow up to be a compassionate person.

"I see everything worked out well then," she said to Janet. "For tricking you into becoming pregnant, your husband gets to grow up as your daughter."

"Yes and she's such a cute little thing," Janet cooed as she lifted Sarah out of the stroller to allow the old woman to hold her. "This way, I get to be Mommy without having to be pregnant. "He is the one that wanted the baby experience, now he gets to experience it from the inside out. I doubt he is enjoying it as much as I am though," she said with a smirk.

As she cradled Sarah in her arms, the gypsy's expression changed.

"You told me that your husband tricked you into becoming pregnant!" She said in a sharp tone.

"Yes, I did," Janet answered, looking down at Mrs. Ramirez; the old woman was at least a head shorter. Her whole manner was as if to say, 'So What?'.

"I was very particular when I asked you what happened that day you came in here. I saw that you were upset and you told me that you were pregnant. You said that your husband had gotten you drunk. That he knew when you were most likely to get pregnant and that he practically raped you!"

"Well…It wasn't quite as bad as that," Janet said, back-pedaling, "but he was so self-satisfied about me being pregnant! He knew that I didn't want to have children and lose my figure."

The old woman sniffed at Janet's whined explanation and said, "If he had been completely blameless, you would not have been able to transform him at all. But I can see that this baby who was once your husband was not the evil person you made him out to be! He truly loved you and you destroyed him because you were more concerned about ruining your figure!" Mrs. Ramirez was starting to work up a full head of steam in her tirade at Janet.

"Your husband is still buried within the child."

"You mean he is aware that he was once a full grown a man? Now that is amusing."

"It is impossible to tell how much of his past life he has retained. If he had deserved this fate he would be gone and only the young child you carried would be there. There is a price to be paid!"

As far as Janet was concerned, the gypsy might as well have been going, "Blah…Blah…Blah…Blah…Blah." She had tuned her out after the first few words. This sounded like more of the creepy voodoo she had spouted when she had been here last time and bought the things she had used to change David into her precious baby Sarah. While she was zoned out, thinking of David made her think of how Sarah used her tongue when she was nursing that reminded her of what he used to do during foreplay. It was probably just a coincidence though.

When it appeared that Mrs. Ramirez had finally run down, she just smiled and said, "Yes…Yes. I'm sure that things will work out. Look…I'm enjoying having her as the sweet little baby girl that she is. Don't you have a potion or something that will keep her this way?"

The gypsy physically recoiled from Janet. What had she connected herself with here? She was perfectly happy to trick and transform the men who came into the shop, but she made the decision as to who she changed. She had felt sorry for the sad woman who had come into her store those months ago, crying about being with child. Her story had painted a picture of an uncaring husband who had willfully impregnated his wife in total disregard for her desires. Now it turned out that her customer was not entirely stable. She really did not want to subject the former man to any further torture, but he was not aware of much now anyway. Perhaps she could do something to help him to adapt to his new situation.

Besides, she was in business to sell things. She opened a drawer and took out a small vial that contained a glowing white liquid. Janet took it from her, looking closely at the small bottle as she held it up to the light. She shook it slightly to make it slosh back and forth.

"Be careful of that!" Mrs. Ramirez snapped. "I don't have any more yet and it takes five years to make more."

"What?" the gypsy said in response to Janet's surprised look. "Do you think that magic is just squeezing berries to make a potion and a few incantations? Creating something powerful like this takes time."

"Will this really keep her a baby?" Janet asked a bit skeptically.

Mrs. Ramirez shrugged and shook her head in denial.

"No, nothing can do that. This will only slow down her growth. If you feed this to your daughter, she will grow only half as fast as normal. But it will only work for five years. She will develop rapidly after that."

Janet nodded her head in glee. She wished that David could appreciate his predicament, but Sarah had not shown any signs of understanding the world around her for weeks now. Oh well, her husband did make for a cute baby. She was going to have so much fun dressing her and showing her off. And there was that thing that Sarah did with her tongue when she was nursing that reminded of what her husband used to do during foreplay...It was probably just a coincidence she thought.

Totally ignoring Mrs. Ramirez's explanations and warnings as so much blather, she willingly paid the rather steep sum the gypsy demanded and slipped the little bottle into Sarah's diaper bag. She left the store humming happily, thinking about how much fun it would be to have her baby around for years to come. Maybe she would come back later to get some of the potion for herself. Then she would be able to be a young mother forever.

When they were home, Janet carefully poured the contents of the vial into one of Sarah's bottles and then topped it off with milk. Interestingly enough, all of the potion oozed into the milk bottle, leaving no residue at all behind.

Janet waited until Sarah was ready for another bottle and the baby seemed to drink the spiked bottle of milk in just moments. Janet watched expectantly, apparently thinking that the baby would start glowing or something. But nothing spectacular happened and Sarah seemed to just snuggle a bit deeper into her blanket before falling asleep.

* * * * *

As the days and weeks passed, Janet could see that the potion had worked after all. Sarah remained the same child she loved to dress up and show off, but appeared to have stopped growing. In addition to not growing, Sarah's physical development appeared to have been put on hold as well. Despite her age, child never learned to roll over or sit up. She continued to eat normally, but she continued to need to be bottle fed. She seemed unable to learn how to even swallow baby food. Because she just did not grow, the same clothes continued to fit her, with no problems of suddenly being outgrown.

Janet was slightly annoyed that her new daughter required a bottle every night and sometimes in the middle of the night, but she had to accept it as part of having a baby. She was able to use her infant like honey draws flies. There were plenty of good looking guys to choose from; especially when they knew that they were not being considered as 'daddy material'.

Janet took great pleasure in dressing her daughter in the most frilly, girly clothes. At first, David, as Sarah, had kicked and cried at being dressed as a baby and being only able watch his wife enjoy the company of other men. When Sarah would begin to fuss, Janet would just shove the special pacifier into her mouth. The moment the pacifier was in, it was like a gauze curtain was drawn between David's thoughts and Sarah's baby brain.

From the time Janet had brought Sarah home from the gypsy's store, David had had a vague awareness that something was not quite right. He already knew that he was much smaller and weaker than Janet and he was unable to even form words to speak. When he tried to communicate with Janet to ask her what had happened to him, nothing intelligible came out. In his frustration, cried like an infant and became the baby girl Janet wanted and she would plug his mouth with the damned pacifier and he would seem to go away somewhere. He hated feeling like an observer in his own body. As time went on, David came to learn that acting like a baby girl meant that he could remain lucid for a period of time.

Over time, David's resistance to being treated like a baby girl faded. It was not so much that his spirit had been broken, but that he realized that he had no power over what his, now her, life had become. Instead of fighting his transformation and trying to continue to be David, who had been transformed into a baby girl, he allowed himself to relax and become Sarah, the baby girl who had been David.

Once Sarah stopped fighting Janet's treatment, the fun went out of it for her. She still dressed Sarah in soft, pink dresses and tied ribbons into her curly hair to make her look cute for church services and parties, but she started spending less time with Sarah. The live-in nanny she hired took more responsibility and control in the nursery as Janet's presence faded.

Because she always seemed to have meetings at work, Janet would never take Sarah to her pediatrician appointments, so she had the nanny take her instead. The doctors were always concerned with Sarah's apparent lack of growth but were satisfied with her overall health. What concerned Janet was that the doctors wanted to do some tests to find out why the child was not developing normally. Finally, she would just cancel appointments or decline to make them when the office called. It cut down on the hassle.

The potion had worked as Janet wanted, to a greater extent than she had expected. She just had not anticipated that it would take much longer to toilet train her daughter. At three, Sarah was still crawling and had shown no signs of learning to walk and her mental development was as slow as the rest of her body. Janet thought nothing of it; she let the nanny deal with it. Sarah didn't notice anything anyway. His entire universe had shrunk to be the nursery.

Nanny was around all of the time, but Sarah was always happy to see Mommy when she came home from work and played for an hour or two. Eventually though, the novelty of having a cute baby girl wore off. If Janet had thought about it, it was rather similar to having a pet. They both needed to be fed and cleaned on a regular basis. Janet's visits to the nursery became less frequent and shorter in duration. Sarah became ever more attached to her nanny.

Janet enjoyed having her transformed husband as her daughter. At one time, she had felt some guilt about turning him into a baby girl, but that faded over time. Her sense of righteousness solidified such that she actually believed that he had tried to trap her into motherhood and he deserved what she had done to him. She took great pride in showing off her daughter to her dates and dressing her in most girly clothes she could find. It was just too bad that David couldn't comprehend his situation like she wanted him to.

Being an attractive woman, she was often out to dinner or drinks. Quite often, she would bring one of those dates back to her bedroom. Because the nursery was next to the master bedroom, Sarah often heard the noise of their lovemaking. At first it upset her, she wasn't sure why her mother making those noises made her tummy hurt, and it just felt wrong.

Over time it no longer meant anything to Sarah or distressed her and Janet just started leaving the nursery door closed. There was no longer any fun in making it clear to her husband that he was being cuckolded when it made no impression upon him. David hadn't manifested in Sarah's behavior in a very long time. He appeared to be gone. Even when Janet would hold up pictures of David to remind him of his lost life in an attempt to get a reaction, Sarah failed to react.

* * * * *

By the time Sarah reached school age, calendar-wise, her development barely matched that of a four year-old. Janet was more than a little annoyed that the public school system would not take her daughter because they felt that she was developmentally disabled. The effects of the age potion had finally run out though.

This was something that Janet had not anticipated as well as the fact that she had aged five years while Sarah did not appear to have done so. She was approaching forty years of age and she had a baby that she would have to put into pre-school until the child had caught up a little. Once more, Janet's self-centered personality came into play as she somehow felt that it was Sarah's fault that she could not attend school with children her own age. Janet now had to bear the stigma of being the mother of a mentally handicapped child.

To add to her annoyance, the lines and bags on her face were becoming more pronounced, which was a byproduct of her partying, smoking, and drinking. It had not escaped her notice that she was no longer one of the first fillies cut out of herd at dinner parties and the invitations to dinner and drinks were becoming less frequent. The fact that she was now a vice-president in the marketing department helped to gloss over the facts though.

Janet's visits to the nursery had already tapered to a couple of times a week, but now they became a once-in-a-while occasion. Sarah was thrilled to see her mother each time and never really noticed how seldom she actually was seeing her mother. It did hurt Sarah to have Janet speak to her like she was an idiot, even though she wanted her mother's attention so desperately. What hurt her feelings was what Janet would say to the nanny right in front of her.

"Is she still stupid?" I'm glad that she's finally toilet-trained though. Buying those disposable diapers was killing the budget." Her voice conveyed the sneer of disdain that her expression did not.

Sarah understood everything, even though she was unable to communicate clearly with the adults around her. It was almost as if her ability to control her body had been scrambled in some way. Even though her mother didn't talk nice about her, she was sure that her mommy still loved her. The nanny told her so.

Something strange happened to Sarah one night sometime after Janet's visit. Her mother had brought another boyfriend home and had gone into the master bedroom.

Sarah's control over her body had progressed rapidly to the point where she was able to get out of bed to go potty in the middle of the night. This had been heralded by nanny as a major milestone because it meant that Sarah could finally where panties to bed instead of a pull-up. When Sarah heard grunts and moans coming from her mother's room, she had slipped out of bed and gone into the hall. Her mother's door was open and she went to look in .to make sure that the man she had seen come in was not hurting her mother.

What she saw shook her. Janet was kneeling over a man in bed. Janet's back was to her, but it was obvious that she and the man in bed with her were completely unclothed. From where she stood, she could not see what was happening.

She felt something welling up inside her, whether it was from her belly or somewhere in her head, it felt like pushing and squeezing at the same time. Just as it seemed that the feeling would turn into pain, it stopped.

At that moment, David found himself standing at the hallway door of his wife's bedroom and she performed oral sex on a stranger. Everything that had happened to him from the time he had been magically transformed into a baby girl until this moment came crashing into his baby-sized mind.

The claims made by experts that infants see and remember everything are true. But Sarah's mind was not equipped to have David's mind and memories suddenly sharing the same space. The result was a little girl suddenly crying out at seeing her mother doing something strange in bed with someone else. Sarah's crying interrupted Janet's animal pleasure and made her turn around to see her daughter in the door.

Janet took her time turning around and going to the door. Her boyfriend of the week covered himself with a sheet as he claimed that it creeped him out to have a little girl seeing his junk. Janet did not bother covering herself as she silently picked her daughter up and carried her back to the nursery. Putting Sarah back to bed and covering her, she leaned over and said, "Did you enjoy that? I know that it was good for me."

She smiled with pleasure at knowing that David might not be completely gone and she closed the door firmly behind her. She made a mental note to have some pointed words with the nanny. As much as she had taken pleasure in cuckolding her former husband, she didn't like being interrupted while she was doing it. The nanny would make sure that it did not happen again or else.

Janet stopped into the nursery the next day and spoke to the nanny. Sarah acted no differently than she had been before last night. It was like the child had suffered a flashback and then forgotten that it ever happened. Still, Janet gave instructions that her daughter was to be dressed in her girliest outfits and only allowed to play with her dolls. The nanny was horrified that the little girl would line her dolls up in their frilly dresses and pretend that they were soldiers. Thankfully, she only played that way for a few days and she stopped playing with her dolls altogether after that.

School officials had suggested that Janet enroll her daughter in a pre-school program for the disabled to see if it might help her development. It was completely a coincidence that Sarah was in pre-school for an extra year while the effects of the potion wore off completely.

As Mrs. Ramirez had warned, Sarah began to develop rapidly and caught up with her age group in both size and intellectual ability. Her progress was astounding in comparison with her classmates. As she gained more control over her body, Sarah was able think and communicate more clearly. When she started reading a child's picture book without difficulty, everyone began to suspect that she did not belong in the program and the school agreed to put her into the final half-year of kindergarten.

Janet attended a few of the school functions that a parent is invited to, just to show that she was an attentive mother, but she felt that this was an intrusion upon her life. More than once, she regretted her transformation of her husband. If she were still married to David, she could have left him with their daughter and she could have had a life. But she had saddled herself with a child, even if it used to be her husband. Her position with the company prevented her from abandoning Sarah at an orphanage, she was stuck being a mother.

One of things that continued to annoy Janet over the years was Sarah's occasional questions about her father. All of her friends had a father of some form in their lives; she was one of the few who did not. All Janet would tell her is that she did not know who Sarah's father was. She had been adopted when she was just an infant, she shouldn't worry about it. She just had a mother now.

* * * * *

The girl grew so rapidly that she was as big as her fellow students when she finally started first grade. Her early years were a grind; everything seemed to be so easy. She was a beautiful child. Where Janet was blond and freckled from too much sun, Sarah was in direct contrast with jet black hair and porcelain white skin. It never seemed to matter how much time she spent in the sun though, she never burned or even tanned. She went through the chubby period all children seem to experience, but she finally came out of it looking tall and somewhat willowy. Of course, the boys would catch up to her in height within a year or two.

But the boys noticed her and more than one tried to chat her up and be more than friends. When Sarah related how nice the boys were to her and how much fun they were was to talk with to Janet, a couple of phone calls to the boys' parents after Sarah was in bed scotched that. The rumors got around to the other boys that it wasn't worth the trouble to try to be friends with Sarah.

She barely noticed that the boys were giving her a wide berth. Janet had decided that her daughter would do all of the things that she herself had wanted to do when she was growing up. Sarah found herself signed up for music and ballet lessons. She did everything she could to win her mother's approval and worked hard at her lessons.

That is not to say that Sarah disliked the piano or ballet, it was just that between them and school, she barely had time to do anything for herself. Sarah really had no personal time to be social with friends anyway. Her days were taken up with school, school work, or her various lessons. But Janet still expected her daughter to attend the house parties that she still hosted, to help with the guests or to entertain them. Janet had no concerns about whether Sarah could sleep with the noise of those parties.

Of course, Janet did not take her to lessons or attend recitals, this all fell to the nanny. The nannies had started to be replaced each year, but Sarah never knew why. The result was that Sarah had no one to become close to. This was actually intentional on Janet's part. Someone at work had pointed out to her that by not spending time with Sarah, she was forcing her daughter to look for affection and friendship from the nanny. Janet started replacing the nanny each year so that this did not happen. The nanny just became another fleeting person in Sarah's life.

Sarah was never allowed to play at someone else's house and her friends were never allowed into her house. The only time saw her friends at school. She was also never allowed to sleepover at a friend's house. Janet was very paranoid about allowing her daughter much freedom. Visiting with friends was only one example of this. Things got worse as Janet's social activities waned and she would read Sarah's mail and email.

When Sarah discovered that her mother was reading the things she was writing in her diary, she stopped using the diary. After all, she didn't want her mother reading some of her private thoughts and desires. Instead, she fooled her mother by keeping a fake diary where she entered banal entries. It was harder to be able to hide her emails. She resorted to using a new email address that she only used at school. It wasn't the best arrangement, but it was less embarrassing.

Janet was an indifferent mother at best and a cruel one at the worst. Sarah would bring home a picture she had worked hard on or an art project made especially for her mother. Janet's only response was to point out what was wrong with it and tell her how it could have been done better. There was seldom a 'Thank You' and never a compliment.

* * * * *

It had been years since Janet's transformation of David and the curse upon David finally came to end. Sarah had completed the development her early years had only hinted at. She was as tall as her mother now and her girlish appearance had filled out to reveal a pretty young woman in her early teens. The boys had started hanging around her again, but they were always put off by her telling them that her mother would not let her date, so they moved on to the next girl.

The years of growing up with Janet had not affected her disposition in the slightest. She almost always had a friendly look on her face and laughed easily. The one thing that had come of her early years was that she never met a person who did not start out as a friend. She had endured so much rejection that she could not show that behavior in herself. That isn't to say that she actually recognized any kind of rejection from her mother. Sarah knew her mother loved her, she just did not show it very well. Why else would she have provided her with the nannies that stood in for her? Sure, she wasn't always polite and she didn't always show a lot of appreciation sometimes, but that was just how her mother was.

She was sitting in her bedroom window seat watching it rain on another lonely weekend afternoon. She'd just been informed that she would be attending an all-girls boarding school two states away at the start of her seventh school year. She would be living at school for the next 4 to 5 years, except for visits home on holidays.

What had resulted was the first major conflict between mother and daughter. In the past, Sarah had quietly and happily done whatever her mother demanded of her. This time however, Sarah had rebelled. She did not want to go off to some boarding school and leave what friends she had made at school. She had actually been hoping for more freedom now that she was starting high school. Boarding school threatened to take any freedom at all away.

Janet didn't care that Sarah would be leaving friends and everything that was familiar to her. She wasn't even trying to be cruel. Sarah was just in the way around the house and sending her off to a school would allow her to get an education without having her underfoot at home. Sarah had no say in the matter and Janet threatened to put her in juvie if she couldn't control her daughter.

Sarah's will to fight had collapsed at that threat. There were rumors around school about kids who had been sent to Juvie School for a year or more. The boy or girl that came out was not the same person who went in. It was like they were always afraid after that. They didn't laugh and they didn't try to make friends with people. No one she knew had ever seen one of those kids though.

After the argument was over, she had sent Sarah to her room and said that she had some paperwork to finish. Sarah curled her knees under her and leaned back, feeling very lonely. Even though she was accustomed to her mother's distant behavior, she still continued to hope that things would change.

She wasn't like this when Sarah had been David.

That thought brought Sarah up short. What did that mean? Where had that weird thought come from? She frowned as she considered it. As she thought more about it, more memories started floating up, some of them incomprehensible at the start. It was difficult for a thirteen year-old girl to understand much of memories that suddenly were flooding into her mind. It was like watching a movie stuck in fast-forward.

Being a boy and growing up with a mother and a father. Going to school and college. Playing on the basketball team. Kissing a girl. Having sex with a girl. Marrying Janet. Having sex with Janet. Being changed into a baby girl by Janet.

At first, it seemed like some kind of dream. Maybe it was because she was growing up; after all she had her first period just last week. The nanny had to show her what to do, even though Sarah had been through the health classes at least twice at school. Her mother hadn't expressed any interest in the event, even though it was a major rite of passage for a girl.

The memories were almost overwhelming as they washed over her. A lifetime of memories, some of them not suited for a girl her age had to be absorbed in mere moments. The more she reviewed them, the more real they were to her. There was a name that stood out…David Prince. That name felt so familiar and right. Something that said…Me.

When it was over, Sarah felt both warm and happy and also cold and alone. David had had a happy life and he had loved his wife very much. But the love of his life had turned out to be anything but that. The woman who claimed to be her mother was, in fact, the wife. The wife who had claimed to love David had tried to destroy him instead. Sarah hopped off the window seat and went over to her computer desk. She decided to see what the internet would tell her about men with that name.

It only took a few minutes to begin read through the search results. It was a shock to Sarah to find a picture of David Prince that looked exactly like the man in her memory. The images she had of this man were not pictures though; they were more like what you would see in a mirror. Maybe while shaving or brushing your teeth. She found a brief description of David Prince along with the image. The narrative said that he had been married to Janet years ago. Apparently, he had experienced gender confusion and had transitioned into becoming a woman. He had disappeared years ago.

Shutting down her computer, Sarah reflected that David had become a woman, at least not in the way the article said he had. All she could really grasp was that David had become the victim of a witch's curse and had been changed into Sarah.

She spent the rest of that afternoon sitting in the window, with her chin on her knees and looking out at the fields. She had cried for hours when she had accepted the truth. When the tears ran out and despair set in, she had actually considered ending it all. But the thought of throwing herself out the window or using a piece of broken glass to slash her wrists was something she could not get her thoughts to approach. Even options of a less grisly death did not appeal to her.

Eventually, anger replaced sorrow and grief. Various plans for revenge of one form or another went through her mind. Attacking and hurting Janet would only end up hurting her as well, even if she succeeded. The other thing that Sarah realized was that hurting or killing herself would only benefit Janet. It had been obvious for years that Janet had come to regard Sarah as a bother. Janet was similar to a boy who pestered his parents for a dog and then became tired of the pet once he had it. Killing herself would give Janet back her freedom that having a child took away. Even just hurting herself would let Janet play upon the sympathy of well-wishers as the mother of an emotionally troubled daughter.

She finally arrived at the conclusion that the best revenge was to do well for herself in life. That didn't mean the Janet had to be a part of that life or that Sarah could not get a modicum of emotional revenge out of things. Armed with her new knowledge, admittedly knowledge that was almost a decade and a half old, Sarah smiled as she returned to her computer and started planning out the course of her new life.

Yes, she had been David Prince. But she was Sarah Prince now, she didn't know why Janet had not divorced David and taken her own name back. Sarah's life had been changed by some sort of magic and David was gone, but it was not like he had never lived. He was her and she was him.

This was a unique situation where her psyche was a blend of male and female. With some thought, she would have an insight that no one else possessed, the possibilities were almost endless. Rather than regret what had been done to David, Sarah planned to celebrate it. She had a chance at a new life and was determined to take advantage of it and not make the same mistakes David made the first time around.

She found it relatively easy to change her viewpoint and see things as David. He knew that things should be distressing. Here he was, in the body of a thirteen year-old girl, but he couldn't find it within himself / herself to be freaked out about this. The more he contemplated his life as Sarah, the more he realized that he had been with Sarah all of the time. The years together had allowed them to meld into a single person. The absence of David's memories had prevented him from overpowering the person that Sarah had become.

It was more comfortable to be Sarah than to hold on to the David that was gone. She found that she actually liked being a girl. From the things that Janet had said to Sarah as an infant, this was not the intended result. Janet had wanted David to be aware of what she had done to him because she wanted him to suffer and force him to deal with being a woman. The reason escaped her though. Perhaps she just found it amusing to make him into the baby so that she would not have to deal with the pregnancy. Or perhaps she wanted him to understand the loss of her looks and figure in the same way that Janet was now.

Whatever the reason, Janet had no concern about how David would have felt about the transformation or if his psyche / personality remained. Then she realized that Janet had come to the conclusion that David had faded away within Sarah and that was why she had given up trying to torment him. Janet just had not realized that the second spell she had purchased from the witch had just made it difficult for David to express himself. As a result, David had relaxed and gone with the flow while he had grown up and become Sarah. David had been protected all this while. He had been aware of things as they happened and allowed himself to meld into the mind that he was already a part of.

Allowing Janet to know that she remembered her old life and what she had done would probably be very unwise. While she now possessed the memories and skills of someone twice her age, she was still a thirteen year-old girl and subject to the control of her mother. Even though she had been adopted by Janet, she could do nothing. Barring proof of some kind of abuse, Sarah was bound to Janet until she was an adult. Once past that hurdle, she would be free and Janet would have no authority over her.

In his former life, David had been an accountant, but she decided that she did not want to walk the same path this time around. Perhaps it had been the treatment she had undergone as David and then growing up as Sarah that made her see things differently but she had found herself with a deep empathy for people. As a result, she wanted to make life better for people and decided to look into a medical career, perhaps a surgeon.

There were government programs that would actually subsidize her education if she elected to pursue a medical profession. This fit in with her overall plan as she did not expect much assistance from Janet. She had put her plot for retribution into motion that night of David's return.

* * * * *

The boarding school and finishing school Janet had shipped her off to had actually been good for Sarah, especially as it had been an all-girl school. Her experience with boys had been limited to seeing them in school before she had come here. She had been very fortunate that the ladies in charge had made sure that that part of their education had been addressed as if it were another part of the curriculum. The girls who graduated from this institution would be well equipped to deal with the male of the species when they got out in the world. Alumni were taught how to be well-behaved ladies and were comfortable in any social situation.

Most of the regular coursework was the information that every school threw at their students and expected them to memorize. Sarah could still remember it all from David's life and she excelled on every quiz and exam. While this could have made her the unpopular, brainy girl for blowing the grading curve, her friendly personality and willingness to help others learn the material served to make her far more friends than enemies.

Being a girl with the memories of a man in his late twenties was a bit strange at times. She had been a bit uncomfortable the first couple of times she had to shower with twenty-five other girls, some of whom were pretty good looking. When she realized that she was being checked out by a couple of the other girls, she realized how she was coming across to some of them and she relaxed.

She had long ago come to terms with her new sexuality and found that being a girl was okay. She was just a girl with something extra...an alternate mind that remembered what it was like to have been a guy. It came in handy as well.

One of her friends spent the evening crying her eyes out on the couch in the common room. Her boyfriend at home had sent her a Dear Jane letter and she was very upset. Sarah had spent that evening passing her tissues and listening. The advice she had the girl helped as well. She explained that boys at that age are just looking for someone to be with and they are not mature enough to handle having their girl away at school.

Sarah quickly gained a reputation for being able to give advice on all manner of subjects. Things like how to handle a boy when all they seem to want is sex or how to get along with someone they didn't really like. David's experiences were not always the best to draw, but they did give Sarah perspective.

Having friends was another wonderful thing about boarding school and Sarah suspected that Janet hadn't realized that Sarah would be able to make friends. Prior to shipping her off to school, Janet had kept Sarah practically insulated from the company of her peers outside of attending school. The result was that she had no true friends at home at all, but she had loads of friends and acquaintances at school. Life here at school had started out as good from the get-go and had gotten better from there.

Sarah's visits home on holidays and long breaks became interesting. She kept her contacts with Janet to a minimum, while it seemed that Janet wanted her around more. Sarah even spent one Thanksgiving alone at school rather than go home for the holiday. It seemed that after Sarah had left for school, Janet had found herself in the unenviable position of becoming a cougar in order to get some companionship. When she found a candidate who was young enough and had enough stamina to keep up with her, her boy toy became part of the household.

One of Janet's conquests was a stud named Rick who stuck around longer than most and was around for the first couple of summers Sarah had come home from school, but she never really had contact with him. His whole attention was focused on Janet, which was where the money was. And then Rick was just gone when she had come home for the Christmas break. Janet never spoke of him and Sarah did not ask. It took her a while to figure it, but when she did it was a surprise.

Janet was lonely.

The letters from Janet had been infrequent for the first couple of years and never shared any of Janet's plans or activities. Interestingly enough, letters started coming every other week or so about the same time Sarah figured out Janet's situation. The tone of the letters changed somewhat as well, as if Janet was reaching out to Sarah for something.

Since her revelation or awakening of having been David, Sarah no longer connected the concept of motherhood with Janet, rather, Mother was merely Janet's honorary title and Sarah thought of her with either that label or her name. Sarah's mother had been a series of nannies, some of whom she remembered fondly, who educated her about growing up. Sarah still sent cards to them on Mother's day. Everything else Sarah had learned at school. It gave her a little satisfaction to know that Janet was in her current situation.

Janet probably thought that Sarah's polite distance was due to the emotional upset of being sent away to school. Sarah still gave Janet a hug when she came home and when she left for school again. Sarah always addressed her as Ma'am or Mother (with a capital M), which Janet loved because it sounded so refined. Being called Mom or Mommy was immature and low-brow. She didn't connect the formal address and just more distance between them.

Janet's letters seemed to communicate a whining tone as she complained about a maid or handyman she had hired for the house. She complained about being lonely and not having anything to do socially. She was still a vice-president in the company, but financial cutbacks had seen her opportunities to date and party drop off. There was only a single line in a letter that expressed any interest in Sarah. There were no questions about how classes were going, if she liked them, what activities she was involved in, did she have any boys she was interested in. Just a lone question: How are you? Even that was unusual as Janet had never even asked that before in a letter.

With the start of her final year in school, she decided to put her plan for revenge into motion. The additional years between David's awakening and this point in time had allowed her to think through her plot and to refine it. She sat down to compose a letter to her mother telling her about a project that she would be working on that term. The letter, in and of itself, was not unusual. Sarah had dutifully written a letter each week to her mother.

Even though her feelings for Janet as both a daughter and as a husband were numbed, Janet still represented some continuity in her life. Until such time that she found someone special that she wanted in her life, Janet would suffice as someone to communicate with. But never to confide in, Janet had forfeited any right to that.

In her letter, Sarah described what her project involved. As a presentation intended to help her to compete for a medical school scholarship, she intended to trace her genealogy and medical history. She closed out her letter by asking Janet for any information regarding her adoption, and her biological parents and their medical history. She smiled as she wrote those lines, knowing that there was no paperwork about Janet becoming her mother. Sarah assured Janet that it didn't matter if she could not find the adoption papers as she had already requested the same information from the state and county.

This was intended to essentially frighten Janet with the possibility that she might have to explain to Sarah and the authorities as to how Sarah had come into her custody. When it became apparent that there was no documentation about an adoption and Sarah's DNA profile had nothing in common with Janet, the next step would be to accuse her of kidnapping.

What made it feel especially gratifying was that Janet would have to essentially stew in her own juices because she would be unable to pick up a phone and call Sarah. While some students smuggled phones in, standard policy was to funnel phone contact through the administration. Of course, the age of computers made phones obsolete for those who knew how to use Skype. Janet had never bothered to communicate with Sarah by anything other than mail, so that would be the only way she would be able to express herself.

Of course, she could always place an emergency call to Sarah. Which is what she did. The postal service took the average amount of time to deliver her letter to Janet. Sarah knew that the letter had arrived because she was called to the administration office one morning where she waited for Janet to phone.

Janet never wasted time on pleasantries when speaking to Sarah and the phone call began the same way.

"Sarah, I'm concerned about this research project that you wrote me about." She wasn't shouting, but Sarah could feel the tenseness in how Janet spoke.

"Hello Mother," Sarah said. She was getting pretty much the reaction she had been hoping for and intended to enjoy it. After all, it was almost twenty years since David had been transformed and Janet had taken a perverse pleasure in trying to torture the girl he had become.

"Is there some problem with my project?"

"You say that you are going to trace your genealogy and find your birth parents," Janet said carefully. "All the paperwork from your adoption has been long since filed away. It would take a long time to find it.

"Mother, the days of never knowing who an adopted child's parents are long gone. I have the legal right to know where I came from. All I need to know is what agency you used and when I was adopted." It gave Sarah some pleasure knowing that using words like 'my parents' would be painful to Janet. Janet still thought of herself as Sarah's mother, even though she had never tried to act the part.

"I just don't like the idea that you might put all your time and efforts into trying to find your parents only to be disappointed. I want you to find a different project."

This was typical behavior for Janet to try to dictate to her, even when she had little control over her now. Sarah let the air out of Janet's bluster when she said, "I can't Mother. I have already submitted my project proposal and it has been accepted. I can't change it now without being disqualified."

She was rewarded with silence on Janet's end. "Chew on that, bitch!" were the thoughts that went through mind as she waited for Janet to say something. If Janet tried to force her to give up the project, she would be faced with the fact that Sarah might not earn a scholarship at all. She could then find herself somehow forced to help Sarah with her advanced education.

If Sarah continued with her project, the truth that Sarah had not actually been adopted and Sarah's very beginnings would be investigated. The transformation of a man was into a baby girl is impossible, so there would be the suspicion of kidnapping and possible murder. Because no one had reported a kidnapping, it was possible that Janet had attacked a pregnant woman to steal her baby. There had been cases like that in the news recently and Sarah was sure that Janet was astute enough to realize the possibilities.

Sarah let the silence go on for a few more moments before she said, "I'm sorry Mother, I have to get back to class. Don't worry; it will be a great project. You'll see." The delivery of those final two words had an ominous tone to them, like they were some kind of threat. She hung up the receiver and pushed the phone back to the secretary. She thanked her with a smile and left the office.

She headed off to her next class humming with happiness. She had never enjoyed a conversation with Janet more. The letter she composed to Janet a day or two later contained even more material to bother Janet. Sarah explained all about how her project would work. She knew that most of what she talked about would make Janet's eyes glaze over with the details that she put in. She did make it clear that she planned on doing comparisons of various DNA samples and writing about her findings. She dropped a bit of a bomb on Janet when she said that, in addition to her own and Janet's samples, she planned on getting samples from various strangers. The goal of her project was to show the similarities between strangers.

Before this letter could reach Janet, Sarah left school for the weekend on a field trip. As a senior and because of her age, she was able to leave the campus for the weekend by just signing out. She gave her destination as New York for the purposes of shopping.

David's parents actually lived in a suburb of New York and she had already verified that his parents were still alive. She had funds saved from over the years and she was able to afford a train ticket to close to where William and Estelle Prince lived.

While Sarah had looked her former parents up on the computer several times and knew exactly where they lived, she had never tried to contact them. What could she possibly say to them? She couldn't tell them that she was actually their son. That truth would be just too incredible to expect anyone to believe. To them, David had disappeared years before and was assumed to be dead. The stories Janet had told about him had been hurtful to say the least. Sarah did not want to cause them any more pain than they had already endured.

Now that she stood on the street she had grown up on so many years ago, she felt nostalgia more than she did any kind of fear or uncertainty. William and Estelle were past being middle-aged and approaching being considered elderly, so she was sure that they were at home. Her anonymity as Sarah gave her confidence as she walked up to the door carrying her purse and a sample case.

The door was answered after a minute or two by a white-haired woman who looked remarkably healthy for the age that Sarah knew that she was. Estelle could only stare at Sarah for almost half a minute before she blinked and spoke.

"I'm sorry young lady," she said. "You bear a striking resemblance to my son. He disappeared so many years ago. Who was your father?"

Sarah smiled a bit uncertainly. She hadn't really considered this kind of conversation. She knew that she bore more than a passing resemblance to David Prince, but she had not considered how that might affect her contact with David's parents. All she could do was try to keep from hurting them any more than Janet had hurt them so many years ago.

"I don't know ma'am," she answered. "My mother has told me repeatedly that I'm adopted. I saw an article about my adopted mother's husband and I thought that I saw a resemblance. I'm doing a research project at school on genetics and I had the idea of testing my DNA and yours to see what the results might be."

Sarah actually wasn't sure what the results of the tests would be. She was sure that she still had David's DNA, at least to a certain degree, but didn't know what it would show. Would it show that she was completely William and Estelle's child or would it show her to be David and Janet's child? She dearly wanted to embrace the woman in front of her and comfort her. Sarah hadn't realized until this moment how much she had missed her parents for all of these years. The grief she felt at that loss was a sick knot in her stomach and she fought back the surge of sadness that swept through her.

"Of course, dear," Estelle said as she ushered Sarah into the parlor. "I would love to find out that I had a long-lost grand-daughter. Did you say that you do not know who your parents are?"

"Yes ma'am," Sarah replied. "My mother has told me several times that I am adopted and one of the things that my project will do is to attempt to determine who might my birth parents might have been."

"What do you need to do then?" Estelle asked. The thought of possibly finding her son or his children gave her hope that had died years ago.

Sarah quickly described the procedure that she needed to go through to gather her samples and proceeded to collect Estelle's contribution to her project. The two of them sat together in the family room that Sarah remembered from his youth and just chatted. It had been decades since David had been in this room, talking to his mother. Sarah heard stories about David that she had never known, as David.

The love Estelle had for her son was in every word she spoke about him and the longing to know what had happened to him was there too. Sarah wanted so much to tell Estelle that her son was sitting right in front of her, just changed into a school girl, but she couldn't possibly tell that story without sounding like some kind of gold digger.

A couple of hours later, there were sounds in the back of the house and David's father appeared at the kitchen door. He still had the look of a hale and hearty man, even at his age, and his brown hair had turned completely gray. When William came into the family room where the girls were his eyes widened in shock and his mouth dropped open as he saw Sarah.

As his eyes went between Estelle and Sarah, his wife stood and went to pull him into the room. After she settled him onto a couch, she explained the purpose of Sarah's visit. Sarah had to explain to her father that she had been adopted by Janet and that she was not presenting herself as their relation at all. She did not know who her parents were, but that she hoped to find out who they were.

When they heard who Sarah's adopted mother was, Sarah's former parents reacted with anger. It turned out that Janet had been less than friendly with them when they had tried to find out where their son had disappeared to and she had been offensive when she spoke of David. Their distrust of Sarah declined greatly when she described her childhood years and her mother's behavior. William was happy to add his tissue sample to his wife's, after getting Sarah's promise to share the results of her science project with them.

Sarah had to decline their invitation to stay for dinner as she had to return to school. They did exact her promise to stay in contact and to visit for dinner soon.

Only when she was in her seat for the trip back to school did she give into her tears. They had been building all day in her belly like some sort of stomach cramp that grew tighter as her time with her former parents had gone on. It hurt to see how they had aged, because they had still looked young when she had seen them last. Now they looked ten years older than they really were, almost certainly because of David's absence from their lives.

She cried for the loss of her parents, the loss of David, and her own loss of the love of Janet. Even though her memories as David had come back to her years before, this was the first time she had actually felt the pain of it. She wished that she could give them some kind of closure, even a decades-old skeleton would help.

Her anger and hate at Janet for her selfish actions flared again. She wished that she could hurt her as much as she had hurt the people around her. But the more she thought about her plan for revenge, the more it came home to her that she was making herself into the woman who had been his wife and was now her mother.

Yes, she could go through with the whole scheme to frame Janet for kidnapping a baby and raising it as her own daughter and, maybe, frame her for David's murder. Her transformation of David into Sarah was exactly like murder, the only difference was that David as a person died in order for Sarah to come to life. But she didn't want turn herself into a version of Janet though. It was quite apparent that the woman had never loved David and considered Sarah to be a burden.

After a couple of hours of crying and mopping up tears, Sarah's new course of action became clear to her. She would complete her senior project and earn the scholarship she wanted. But she would not use it to attack Janet. If the woman was upset about what she was doing, it was too bad as she could not do anything to stop her. She would at least enjoy that amount of discomfort.

Her project called for several different donors of DNA and then an analysis of the results. She had long ago secured a sample from Janet, so she had what she needed from everyone involved in this particular tragedy. She planned on gathering many more as she didn't think that using her own parents was necessarily wise.

Sarah had no idea what a comparison of her own DNA with David's parents would show. Would they show that she was actually their daughter instead of their son? Or would she be David and Janet's daughter? Or would she be unrelated to them all?

There were two things that she was absolutely sure of: she had no intention of telling William and Estelle that she was somehow related to them and she also had no intention of maintaining a relationship with Janet after she completed this final year of schooling.

If she told William and Estelle that she was their granddaughter, she didn't want people accusing her of playing on an old couple's hope. It didn't help her decision that Sarah had recently read 'Anastasia'. She would have to give her decision more thought. She knew that they would be thrilled if she could prove that she was related to them and she really would like her parents back in her life as well.

* * * * *

Janet's letters had been coming every week now. Their tone had shifted a bit as she was now concerned about Sarah's project. She still wanted her to drop it, but could not do much as Sarah essentially ignored the subject in the letters that she sent back. That annoyed Janet in each of her letters. There were other complaints in Janet's letters though, illustrating that the woman was feeling lonely and alone. The only way she could express that was by complaining about the staff around the house or about her work.

Sarah had long ago dropped the plan of proving that adoption papers were a fiction and forcing Janet to explain how she had become Sarah's guardian / parent. That hadn't kept Sarah from taking a shot every once in a while by stating that she was still waiting for the state or county to respond to her request for information about her adoption.

The results of her research project were almost anti-climactic. Using a collection of samples, Sarah was able to hide the results for herself, Janet, and her former parents. Those tests were not part of the report she submitted. There were projects that were just as impressive as hers was, but Sarah was awarded the scholarship on the merits of the analysis of her samples.

Janet made an appearance at the awards banquet, being her typical narcissistic self. When it had become apparent to her that nothing was going to come from Sarah's requests for documentation of her adoption, she had relaxed again.

She had been seated at the table with Sarah and two others students with their families. Conversation between Sarah and Janet was polite, but limited. Janet had always managed to turn Sarah's victories into a triumph of her own, almost as if to say that she was directly responsible for Sarah's success. Sarah had experienced Janet's behavior for years and allowed Janet to have her day in the sun as she intended for it to be the last time.

After the presentations and dinner was over, Sarah bid her mother a polite and brief good night before leaving the hall. She would be graduating in a few more days and leaving the school after that and she did not plan on returning to the house she had grown up in. Typically, Janet could not let her go without acting like the proud stage mother.

"Well! Sending you to this school was a good decision. You've won a full scholarship to start you on your medical education," Janet said as Sarah turned to go. The tone of her voice conveyed her satisfaction that she was happy that she would not have to fight about paying for Sarah's college education.

"Yes, it was," Sarah as she turned to face her mother. The corridor was empty, so she was not concerned about anything she might say. "You won't have to pay for a thing."

"I've noticed that you don't call me Mom or Mother any more Sarah. Why is that?" Janet's tone seemed to be an attempt at being friendly.

Sarah was immediately on guard as she had seen this behavior before. It meant that Janet wanted something from her. As much as she did not want to deal with Janet, she really did not want to fight this evening.

"We've never been that close, especially since I've been here at school. It's always been obvious that you considered me to be some kind of burden."

"Well, we can fix that when you come home after your graduation," Janet said. "I'll be staying in town until you graduate and we can go home together."

Sarah could see that she was not going to be able to avoid a confrontation. She'd been imagining what this would be like for a long time, but she found that actually having a fight with Janet was something that she wanted to run away from.

"I won't be going with you after graduation. I have an apartment and a job waiting for me near the college in New York," Sarah said. As much as she hated the woman, she didn't want to fight with her.

"But I thought that we could get to know each other again," Janet's voice had a bit of a plaintive tone to it. "I know that you have been stuck here at school for the past four years and I've missed having you at home."

Sarah heard the tone in Janet's voice, almost a whine, but there was something else there as well.

"You haven't had any use for me for years. Are you telling me that I'm worth being around now because I'm an adult?"

"Of course not Sarah," Janet said, sounding hurt. "I love you and I always have."

That statement was the final straw and Sarah pulled herself up and back to look at Janet fully. She just as tall as the older woman was and she found herself almost nose-to-nose with her.

"Excuse me?" The outrage she felt had her almost rigid with anger. "You shipped me off to boarding school because I was in the way around the house. You're crazy if I couldn't see that you wanted me out of the way while you played with your various boy toys!"

"What's the matter? Haven't you been able to find another teenager to take to bed?"

"How dare you?" Janet snapped. For a moment, Sarah thought that Janet wanted to slap her in outrage. "I'm your mother and I expect you to show me some respect!"

"No Janet," Sarah responded. "You love me just as much as you loved your husband."

"David?" Janet asked in a surprised voice. "That little faggot!" That was all she had to say about her former husband. It was as if she had totally forgotten about what she had done to her own husband.

Sarah finally reached the point where she had to fight back.

"No Janet, David was never gay. He loved you very much, but he didn't have much in the way of self-confidence."

It was becoming obvious that Janet had come to believe the stories that she had invented about her husband's disappearance. Maybe it was a combination of guilt, grief, and alcohol over the years that made her want to forget the truth. Or maybe repeating the story enough times made it true to her.

"He left me at the same time that I adopted you. He couldn't handle the responsibility and he must have decided to go off with his gay friends."

That was the final straw for Sarah.

"I know exactly what happened to David," Sarah snapped, looking Janet in the eye. "All of my memories came back a few years ago." She paused to see Janet's reaction and was rewarded to see that Janet's eyes widened with a look of fear as she gasped slightly.

"I remember that you were pregnant and I thought that we were both happy about it. You can't believe how sad it was to find out that you didn't want to be pregnant and that you actually hated our baby. Did you know that the spell you got from that gypsy didn't transfer David into the baby? What happened is that I was made to be the same sex as our baby would have been and turned into a newborn.

"It's like our daughter never existed. I try to tell myself that her soul just moved on to another child," Sarah said quietly. She had grieved for the daughter that never existed several times, but it was obvious that Janet had never considered just what the magic she had purchased from the gypsy had actually done.

"I really did wonder if I was the daughter of you and David or just a feminine version of David," Sarah said. "I compared my DNA with yours and with David's parents. I don't know how I can tell them that my DNA says that I'm their daughter and not yours! I have none of your DNA, which means that the law would assume that I was adopted somehow or stolen from my birth mother."

Janet had been listening to Sarah's story with her eyes wide and her mouth open in shock. If she had seen herself in a mirror, the paleness and lines in her reflection would have made her think of a ghost. She had never expected to be confronted with the evil that she had perpetrated on David and appeared to be trying to come up with some sort of explanation. The possibility of problems with the law had been lost in the realization that she could have actually destroyed her daughter.

"But...but I didn't know that would happen to the baby," Janet started to say, but Sarah cut her off.

"What did you think was going to happen when you decided to turn me into your baby? Was I going to share my body with another soul? Admit it Janet, you weren't thinking about anything other than yourself. I've seen it for all of the years that I was growing up again around you. That is why I'm not going home with you. Having to boost your ego and let you somehow take credit for everything I do has gotten very old. I don't have to take the lack of compassion and love any longer."

Janet looked like she was in a complete panic. As Sarah walked away from her she begged, "Please Sarah...David. I'm sorry about what I did to you. I need you in my life. Don't leave me. Please."

Sarah didn't stop until she was back to her dorm room. As senior, she had merited her own room this year, so she had no roommate she would have to explain why she was crying. Yes, it had felt good to unload her anger at Janet; it had been building for years. And even though Janet had been an indifferent parent, she had still been part of her life. It had hurt her as much to say those things to Janet as if she herself had been on the receiving side.

Righteous anger does more harm to the person carrying it with them than it does to its target when it is finally unleashed. Sarah knew that she couldn't just walk away from Janet as it would probably hurt them both. She hoped that Janet had not left the banquet hall yet as she hurriedly dried her tears and repaired her face.

Sarah found her sitting at a table weeping while the catering staff worked on the other side of the room. She wasn't surprised that they were keeping their distance. A crying woman could be trouble or require sympathy that few people were equipped to provide. The students and faculty who had been in attendance had left once the caterers started their cleanup, so Sarah and Janet had plenty of privacy.

The presence of David's life experiences had helped greatly over the past few years, even though it had given her a cynical view at times. It also helped her to have a more mature attitude that tempered her sometimes impulsive nature. She halted a few steps away from Janet where she had her head in her hands. Knowing Janet the way she did, Sarah knew that Janet was probably crying because she was being left alone and not because of what she had done.

"I really wanted hurt you for what you did to me," Sarah said, quietly. Her approach had been quiet enough that her words cause Janet to jump slightly. She obviously had not expected Sarah to come back.

"I don't want to be alone," Janet said through her tears. Sarah could see that getting an apology from her would probably never happen. What had ever possessed David to marry her? She was so self-involved that nothing she did would ever be in the wrong.

Sarah took a seat across the table from her and said, "I can't think of you as a mother or as a wife Janet, hardly even a friend. But I can't leave you alone either."

It was true. Janet was the only connection to her past. David's parents couldn't really be a part of her life in the same way as parents are supposed to be. Even though Janet had been indifferent toward her most of the time and sometimes mean, Sarah had grown up with her as her mother and most of David's memories were good as well.

While she would never allow Janet to be an integral part of her life, the reality was that the two of them were really all they had. As much as she had wanted some kind of revenge for being made into a girl, that desire had somehow been burned out of her over the months. Being faced with actually going through with being cold and vicious, she just could not do it. Destroying Janet wasn't what she wanted now, but she had no idea what she did want.

This past year had made her think about her lives. As David, he would never have wanted to be a woman and had never even considered wearing his mother's clothes or Janet's. But the last 18 years had been spent as a girl and there was nothing wrong with it. With the exception of her period and being weaker than the guys, there was a lot to recommend it.

Upon reflection, he had gained in the scheme of things. He had been permitted to live two lives and he had gained youth as well. In addition, pursuing a medical career would be far more satisfying that being an accountant.

Janet was only just reaching the point where she was realizing that she had lost in the transaction. David would have grown old with her and been her companion forever. She had transformed David because she did not want a baby to damage her beauty. But that precious beauty had faded with time anyway, while David was enjoying the bloom of youth.

She was looking at a life of loneliness now.

This is what Sarah had sensed in Janet's letter over the last year. Life was leaving the woman behind and she thought that her daughter would fill that gap. Janet didn't know how to reach out and bring Sarah back to her.

"I know that I could hurt you by just walking away from you Janet. But David would never have done that to you and I can't either. It's very hard for me to get over that and I can't live with you."

Janet could only nod jerkily in acknowledgment. There was nothing she could say that could change things or deny the facts.

Sarah sighed and continued. "I can't cut you out of my life either. As much as I do not like to admit it, you are still the most important person in my life."

Janet reached her hands across the table toward Sarah. "I made a mistake Sarah and I'm sorry. I've been alone for months and I thought that you would be coming home. I never thought that you would abandon me; we have been together for almost 25 years, as man and a woman and as mother and daughter. We have still shared those years. Weren't some of them good?"

Sarah had no illusions that home life would be any different than it had been when she was growing up. Even with the revelation that she remembered her life as David, Janet would probably be the bossy and demanding person she had always been. Of course, Janet might actually want to spend time with her if she were as lonely as she claimed. But Sarah had spent years armoring herself against Janet and couldn't expose herself to that past behavior.

"I won't come home with you Janet. I have a job waiting for me in the city and I will be starting classes almost immediately after I get there. But I can't cut you out of my life as I intended. We can still have a relationship, but it will be different from mother and daughter or husband and wife. Despite our age difference we will be equals. Maybe even learn to be friends again. I won't make any promises."

As she spoke, the dullness in Janet's eyes was slowly replaced with a look of hope.

"You still have your job back there so you can't just move up here. I think that we should get to know each other again and we can do that with letters and phone calls. When things settle down, you could come for a visit for a couple of days. Does that sound okay with you?"

Janet was like a drowning man grabbing at anything that might save him. Her eyes lit up at the thought that her life wasn't in the ruin that it had appeared to be a few minutes ago. She smiled and nodded in thanks.

The two women sat and talked during all of the time the caterers did their cleanup work. They were still chattering away when they were finally ushered out of the room and the lights turned out.

* * * * *

Sarah dropped the twins off at their gymnastics class and decided to stroll around the outdoor mall to kill the two hours that the girls would be practicing. They really enjoyed the jumping and tumbling exercises. Later in the year, she had been told that they would begin learning what was involved in the floor exercises. They were looking forward to those lessons. She smiled as she thought of the two girls clustered on the floor in front of the television to watch the Olympic gymnastics. It brought back memories of her childhood when she felt safe and loved. Her first childhood, not her second.

She made a mental note that she needed to stop at the grocery on the way home. Janet would be coming to visit for a week and she wanted to pick up enough supplies for the meals she planned on fixing. At Sarah's insistence, Janet had mended her fences with her former in-laws, telling them that her behavior was driven by the fact that she was upset with losing David. Janet was visiting them for a couple of days at their invitation and would be coming here from their town.

David's parents had been reluctant to accept Janet into their lives to any degree, but had thawed over the years. Janet represented one of their last links to their son, Sarah was another. Their granddaughter. She had never told them the truth about the DNA tests she had done. She let David's parents believe that she was David's bastard child and she had never been able to find out who her mother was.

Sarah knew that Janet wanted to do the grandmother thing with the girls, but she never allowed the woman to be alone with the children. Sarah and her husband Walter were reluctant to let Janet be a grandmother to their girls, knowing the kind of person Janet was. But they were very happy to let William and Estelle visit whenever they liked. As a result, the girls got spoiled by the older generation. She had never told Walter about David, other than the story that David was her father. After all, who would believe that a man had been transformed into a baby girl? No one other than a magic user or someone who had actually been transformed. It was better to let the world believe some version of the story Janet had created years ago.

Work was very satisfying. She had originally thought about pursuing a surgical specialty, but found that a general practitioner was where she wanted to be. She and Walter had been lucky that they had become parents just a couple of years after they had gone into private practice together. She couldn't even think of what her life would be like as a surgeon and a mother.

She was window shopping before a dress store when she felt a light tap on her shoulder. She turned to see a small, older-looking woman standing behind her. Her coloring was darker, almost what would be called swarthy and she was a bit shorter than Sarah. Her age was questionable. While she was older than Sarah, she could have been anywhere from seventy to ninety years old.

Sarah's eyes widened at the sight of the woman. She hadn't seen her in decades and she had been an infant when they had met, but Sarah would have known her anywhere. She would have stepped back to put distance between her and the gypsy woman, but her back was essentially against the store window.

Mrs. Ramirez stood there, one hand at her side and the other holding her purse, with a slight smile on her face. She did not step forward to intrude into Sarah's space, but she did not move back to give her room either. She appeared content to stand so that Sarah would have to edge around her to escape.

"How are you my dear?" the gypsy asked her. The way she asked the question made Sarah think of the old woman in the Sleeping Beauty story, right before she gave Beauty the poisoned apple. Sarah reflected that the idea for the old woman could have been inspired by the very person in front of her.

"Wha…What do you want?" Sarah gasped out. It had been years, but she knew what Mrs. Ramirez could do and her fear was very real.

"Why nothing," Mrs. Ramirez replied, "I saw you here and I wanted to say hello. I really am interested to know how you are doing now."

The old woman's disarming manner emboldened Sarah and she said, "I'm fine, thank you." She started to move to one side so that she did not feel trapped between the gypsy and the store front.

Mrs. Ramirez made no move to keep her in place and just turned as Sarah moved. "I had hoped to have a chance to give you my apology when you got older. I did not know that your wife intended to use the items I sold her on an innocent. I am glad to see that you are well."

At the old lady's words of apology, Sarah froze. A white flame of anger flared in the core of her being as she fastened on the gypsy with a glare.

"Apology? For helping the woman that I loved turn me into a cuckold and then an infant girl? You don't really care about that do you?"

Mrs. Ramirez blinked. She had not anticipated such an angry response from the girl. If anything, she had half-expected a smile and a thank you. It appeared that this child harbored a great deal of hostility toward her. If the girl was not careful, she could find herself in more trouble. How dare she act this way toward her? Her smile thinned and her eyes narrowed.

"You should be careful child. You know what I can do," her tone was quiet, but it carried depths of threat.

Sarah stopped herself for a moment and blinked at Ramirez. She took a deep breath and let it out.

"You're right. I do know what you can do and I must be careful," she said calmly. "I have learned things in my second childhood that have served me well. My life is fine now. If you will excuse me, I will be moving on."

The old gypsy stopped her for a moment with a raised hand and asked, "Can I do anything for you? Do you need any help?" There was a crafty undertone to her voice that a less careful person might miss.

Sarah shook her head and said, "No. I do not want for anything, thank you." She started to move away and paused. She turned back, looking thoughtful.

"It occurs to me that now that you are here in town, this might not be the last time our paths cross."

Mrs. Ramirez nodded, looking mysterious.

"Because of that, I am going to tell you something that I have learned over the years." Sarah paused to order her thoughts. She began her speech, looking the gypsy woman directly in the eye.

"I offer you no insult or injury. I will accept no gift or trade. I have nothing I wish to give you and I want nothing that you have to offer. I ask you to leave me and mine alone for now and forever."

The words were spoken calmly and clearly. They were not chanted like a magic spell being cast, but the words hung in the air and seemed to almost ring with power.

The old woman stepped back in surprise at hearing Sarah recite a ward against people like her. The drawback to this particular spell was that it must be cast against each person whose influence and attentions you did not want. But it would work well enough against her. She could do nothing for or against Sarah or her entire family for generations to come. In fact, when she left Sarah's presence, she would actually become non-existent to them.

"Now…You didn't have to do that child," she scolded mildly. "I was only offering to help you after what you have been through."

Sarah's anger was still very much in evidence, but she was in control enough to know that a wrong word could cause the ward she had just cast to collapse.

"Help me? All you offer is magic spells and items that hurt people. I don't want something like that."

Mrs. Ramirez nodded sagely. "Yes, I do sell magic to people. But I can't control what they do with it. It's not my fault that a person gets hurt by it once in a while. I couldn't have known at the time that your wife only wanted to be rid of her pregnancy and that she blamed you for it. She just did not want to assume equal responsibility for her condition."

Janet laughed shortly and the woman's statement. "Not responsible? You're just like the gun dealer who sells someone a gun and then says that it is the person who bought the gun who is really at fault. No Mrs. Ramirez, I want nothing to do with you or your store. The trouble you represent is too dangerous."

Sarah turned her back and strode off down the sidewalk. As she turned the corner, the magical ward that she had created took effect. The dark mood she had been in lightened and she shook her head, wondering for a moment what had been bothering her. She shrugged and resumed her browsing. Looking at her watch, she saw that she still had a while before she had to pick up her daughters and get home. Walter would be home from his trip tonight and she was looking forward to getting the twins into bed early. She absently wet her lips in anticipation.

Behind her, Mrs. Ramirez watched her walk away and disappear around a building. She felt the minor tingle of Sarah's awareness and connectedness to her suddenly cease. She thought about what the girl had said to her and had to agree that she was, to a large part, in the right. After her encounter with Janet all those years ago, she had never sold another transformation spell to someone without knowing what was going to happen to both parties and being comfortable that both parties merited the transformation. She did feel bad about what had happened to David at the hands of his wife and she would have done what she could to make it right, at least within the limits and requirements of the store and her magic.

She shrugged. Oh well…Considering that could have happened to the girl and her family if she had taken Ramirez up on something from the store, they were probably better off. She turned and shuffled off toward her store, there were always other suckers who deserved to buy something from her.

* * * * *

Returning to her store, Mrs. Ramirez closed the door behind her. Immediately, there was a flash of colorless light and she was no longer standing in her store. The room she stood in was about the same size as her store, with most of the space taken up with tables that curved around in a semi-circle. The gypsy stood in the focus of that semi-circle.

The room was warmly lit with indirect lighting so that there were no glares or reflected light. She recognized the room as the main council chamber where the Elders met to make decisions and render judgments. The room décor was a combination of earth and sky tones, to reflect the focuses of the magic the order espoused. Behind the table sat her order's ten Elders. Ramirez realized that the price for allowing her magic to be misused those years ago was finally going to be exacted.

"Velda!" The voice came from the grey-haired man at the middle of the group. Leadership was shared among the members of the group and it was just his turn. His voice was deep and seemed to fill the room when he spoke.

"The council has already reviewed your transgression and the steps that were taken and not taken to mitigate the damage that was done. You are here to hear our judgment. There is no defense and no discussion."

All she could do was nod in acknowledgment at what was being said. She had expected that she would be called to account at some point and was resigned to whatever punishment might be meted out to her. This was the price for being able to work magic and enjoy its benefits.

"It is our judgment that you will live as a mortal for a lifetime and relearn their faults, their virtues, and their vulnerabilities. You will have no memory of the order or your abilities until you return to us."

"Where will I live?" It was the only question that was important to her right now.

"Your last victim is about to be impregnated tonight. We believe that you will benefit from living as her son for the next several decades. Prepare yourself."

Her last thoughts as Ramirez were that growing up with Sarah as her mother was not all bad, even if it was as her son.

Billie's Christmas Present

Bill’s team was in a hard-fought battle with their little league archenemies. They had split their previous two games and this was for the championship. It was the bottom of the last inning, the score was tied, and Bill was up to bat with the bases loaded and two outs. The pitcher watched him dig in at the plate. He had already struck Bill out three times and he was quite sure that he could do it again.

Bill crouched as low as he could. His plan was to present as small a target as possible and pray for a walk. The guys on the team often regarded him with disdain for his lack of offensive ability. Sure, he was a good defensive second baseman, but he was a real lightweight at the plate. At only five feet tall, he was small for his age, taking after his mother. His lack of size had a negative effect on his self-confidence among his peers. He was often teased asking if the old-time Dodger shortstop ‘Pee Wee Reese’ was his favorite ballplayer. He would just smile at the insult.

It was as if the pitcher knew what he was thinking because the first ball was right down the middle and called a strike. Bill stepped out of the batter’s box and wiped his sweaty hands on his trousers. The catcher said loud enough for everyone to hear, “Come on kid. Get back in there. You know there is no chance in hell you can hit my pitcher."

With a determined look on his face, Bill stepped back up to the plate and dug his cleats into the batter’s box, crowding the plate. Again, the ball was straight as an arrow right down the middle.

What Bill did next shocked everyone even his coach. He assumed his normal stance. Again, the pitcher threw his fastball right down the center of the plate. Bully had no chance of hitting it with a swing so he did the unexpected. He placed a perfect bunt down the first base line. No one bunts with two outs and two strikes! Bill had the advantage of surprise. He didn’t have the bulk to be a slugger and lacked the power of his teammates, but he was the fastest kid on the field. He raced to first leaving behind a cloud of dust and a string of curses from the opponents.

The coach on third recognized what was happening and yelled at all the runners to go. The first baseman fielded the ball and raced Billy to the bag. That was a race Bill would never lose and he was standing on the bag as the winning run crossed home plate. Bill was mobbed by his teammates. He was a hero.

After all the congratulations, had died down, the team invited Bill to join them at the local burger joint to celebrate. Bill had to pass, he didn’t have any money. Ever since his father had taken off, ‘to find himself’, money had been real tight at home. His single mother tried, but as a waitress made just enough to feed and house them. His deadbeat father only provided alimony and child support on an occasional basis.

It wasn’t all his father’s fault though. When his parents divorced, Bill and his older sister, Millie, remained at home and lived with their mother. Then, six months later, Millie had been invited by her father to accompany him for a ski vacation. Bill was considered too young to go with his sister. There had been that terrible car accident on the snow packed roads of Colorado. It hospitalized his father with a bad back and killed his sister.

Bill thought he would lose his mother when she heard the news of her only daughter’s death. Millie and his mother had always been close, but were inseparable once his dad had run off. Bill was jealous of not only the time they spent together, but the closeness they established.

He had felt like a fifth wheel and was not included in womanly things they did like shopping, going through fashion magazines, and watching chick flicks on the TV. Being a boy, he was not asked to join them. When Millie was killed, his mom emotionally shut down. If it hadn’t been for his Grandmother ‘Me Maw’, Bill was sure the family would have fallen apart. She lived only 20 minutes away and Bill got to see her weekly as she hosted a big fancy dinner every Sunday after church.

After his teammates and their parents had disappeared. Bill took out a rubber band from his pocket and put his long blond locks in a ponytail. His hair didn’t contribute much to his masculine appearance but Bill kept it because it was the current fashion for men to have long hair. Besides, with money so tight, if he wanted his hair cut his mother would do it in the kitchen. That was a disaster every time. So, he went with the long hair fashion statement, much to his mother’s chagrin.

Hopping on his old bike, he headed home. Halloween had been only two days ago, and he still had almost a full bag of candy leftover. He would celebrate by stuffing his face with candy before his mother got home. Halloween was now the only holiday he enjoyed. It didn’t put any pressure on his mother to get him stuff. Two years in a row he wore his baseball uniform as a costume. Sadly at 13 he knew this was probably his last year trick and treating.

Christmas was coming, a time he looked forward to with mixed feelings. Since his parents had split up, his only presents were those that he got in his stocking. They never amounted to much but it was something that brought him great joy.

As he hit Elm Street, the chain on his bike broke again. Luckily, he only had three blocks to go. Boy…he wished for a new bike for Christmas, but there is no way one would fit in his size 7 sock. He got off the bike and resigned himself to pushing it on the sidewalk.

With his attention focused on the ground right in front of him, he almost missed it. There in the gutter was a fancy bag from a shop in the mall, someplace called Chrissy’s. He kicked it with his foot and realized there was something in it. He carefully peered inside and was disappointed, it was only something girlie. He thought it was a pair of pantyhose but, upon closer inspection, it was a pair of knee high stay ups. Whatever those were. He took one out and closely examined it, it was a woman’s stocking of some kind. At first, he thought maybe he could save it for a Christmas present for his mother; but the size chart on the package told him that they were way too small for his mother.

It was then the idea hit him. Even though it was marked as being size small, it was stretchy and could hold a lot of stuff. He came up with a plan. He would hide it until he hung his stocking up. Santa would have a chore filling this stocking.

He got home and hid his treasure among his stockings. He dropped his dirty uniform on the floor and took a quick shower. Then sat down in the kitchen, put his earbuds in, and zoned out to his tunes. He ate three candy bars and washed them down with a glass of milk. Before putting the candy bag away, he took out a cherry sucker and went to town on that. He was still high from his baseball accomplishment and couldn’t wait until his mother got home to tell her about it.

@ @ @ @

Helen, his mother, arrived a little after 6, tired from a long day as a waitress at the local diner. She was again disappointed that her son had not started dinner. She entered the kitchen and gave him a loving hug. She could tell he was really excited about something. She held him at arm’s length and noticed his red lips, it looked almost like the remnants of lipstick. She was too tired to handle that puzzle so she trudged up the stairs to change out of her waitress uniform.

Putting on her old worn housedress, she headed down to the kitchen to start their dinner. She sighed as passed her son's bedroom with its open door and she saw his uniform was in a pile on the floor. He was really a good kid, never got into any trouble, and received good grades in school. But he was far from being perfect. He had inherited his father’s sexist attitude about women and their roles around the house. He religiously did only what he thought was men’s work. He cut the grass and took out the garbage. It would seem household chores even putting his dirty laundry in the wash were beneath him.

She really wished he would take some of the pressure off her by helping more around the house doing what he referred to as woman’s work.

She walked into his room and gathered up his dirty clothes and threw them into the hamper. Walking by his open sock drawer she saw that things were a jumbled mess. She started to neaten things up when she had the shock of her life. In the back of the drawer she uncovered a package of woman nylons. Could this be what her son was so excited about? At first, she though they were a present for her until she noticed the size and that they were for young girl. One stocking had been removed and stuffed back into the package. Examining it, it was obvious that it had been stretched-out as if it had been worn. She shrugged and wondered if something was going on. Could his red lips really be lipstick?

Or her first second thought was her son had a mystery girlfriend visiting while she was out. She dismissed that as Bill had shown no interest in the ladies. Notwithstanding his efforts to be macho, his frail size made him unlikely to attract any teenage girl. His long blond hair, total lack of facial hair, delicate facial features with his small pointed chin had always seemed more feminine than masculine.

Combined with his insistence on wearing his hair shoulder length, meant he was frequently mistaken for a preadolescence girl. For the first time, Helen wondered if that was really her son’s intention. Her heart leapt in excitement. She had so missed the mother-daughter times she had with Millie. She had never been close with her son. He gravitated more toward his father.

Never having had any brothers growing up, she had no clue how young boys evolved from teenagers to men. Her next thought was that he was experimenting with women’s clothes as a way of exploring his sexuality. She had always thought he was too pretty to be a boy. She wondered if this wasn’t a plea for help. Between the recent news controversies over bathrooms and the Jerry Springer show, she was familiar with the entire transgender issue. Could her son be one of those? She wasn’t crazy about her son being a transvestite and prayed if he was into women’s clothes she would rather he be transgender where he could be a real woman. But she loved him more than life itself. She would support and even encourage him at whatever lifestyle he chose. As long as he was happy.

She had no idea how boys thought or acted. But if her female intuition was correct, her son had a girlie side. She knew that was not socially acceptable but if that made him happy, she would welcome having another female around the house, even if it was just make-believe.

She took a deep breath to consider her options. There was no way she could simply come out and ask her son Bill if he would rather be her daughter Billie. She needed to tread very carefully here. She put the nylons back the way she found them and came up with a plan.

In small steps, she would test her son’s reaction to feminine activities. She went to her daughter’s old bedroom that had been left virtually untouched since her death. She retrieved two pair of underpants, one of plain silk and a frilly lace pair. She put them in his underwear drawer and removed most of his boy pants and threw them in the hamper to wash. She planned to check on them every few days to see if they had been worn. She then went to her vanity and placed her makeup in locations she could remember so if they were moved she would know. Her trap was set. Now she had to wait and see what happens. If Bill asked about the underwear, she could claim they were mixed in with his stuff by mistake.

She entered the kitchen and started dinner. She asked Bill to help by cutting up some vegetables. While doing so, his hair kept falling into his eyes. To save money she had been cutting his hair for the past few years, when he would let her. Helen casually commented like she did frequently that he needed a haircut.

Bill did not want to hurt her feelings about her abilities as a barber. He simply shrugged off the comment like he did every time the subject came up and replied, “Whatever.”

That night as Bill lay in bed he conflicted about his Christmas plan. He knew his mother didn’t have much money. He felt a pang of regret for his greed. He would have to do something special to repay his mother. What that was he had no idea. He just prayed something would come up.

The next day at school, his teammates were engaged in their typical horse play during lunch and managed to break the rubber band holding his hair. His blond locks were everywhere, completely covering his face. He was totally embarrassed and he thought the teasing from his friends couldn’t get any worse until Jill Hawthorn, the student body present and hottest girl in school, came to his rescue and offered him a black scrunchie to hold his hair in place. He was reluctant to accept her offer but she wouldn’t take no for an answer and merely stepped behind him and did up his hair.

She remained behind Bill, the sweet smell of lilacs engulfing him. Bill stood in place afraid to move. Then slender arms encircled his waist and gripped his hips with delicate hands. Holding him firmly, Jill commented, “With your slim stature, I bet you do a lot of dieting.”

Bill was flustered and could only get out, “No, I do a lot of running."

Jill added in playful manner, “I wish I had your physique. Everything that passes my lips goes straight to my hips.”

It was one of those days, later in gym class all the boys were recovering from the mandatory three laps. The teacher in front of all the boys. Jokingly asked Bill what happened to your chest? It looks like someone stepped on it and caved it in.”

Everyone except Bill laughed.

Bill blushed beet red at the comment and was determined to start exercising. Beginning immediately when he got home.

@ @ @ @

With his bike, out of commission, Bill ran all the way home. Throwing his books on the couch, he sat on the living room floor and started doing sit-ups. He stopped only when he couldn’t get up anymore. He rolled over onto his stomach and started doing pushups. He kept at that until his arms felt like rubber. He couldn’t do any more regulation push-ups so rather than doing them on his toes he did them from his knees. He was laying there catching his breath when he heard his mother at the front door.

Helen had never seen her son exercising before. She wondered what had gotten into him. “What are you doing Bill?”

“Just exercising, I want to do something to develop my chest. I’m tired of being so flat on top.

Helen smiled and recognized he was doing girl pushups. When she was in school, the belief was doing those were a way to increase your bust. She wondered if that was her son’s goal. She commented to him, “Well carry on, I am going to make dinner, you have about 30 more minutes for your exercises. Just make sure you wash up before sitting down.”

During dinner, Bill sheepishly asked if there was enough money for him to get a haircut.

On the way in from work, the mail held a letter from her ex. In it was three month's back payment for alimony and child support. It also contained a promise to send a check every month as he had found a job as a cross country truck driver. She told her son about their financial windfall so for once there was plenty of money for extravagances like professional haircuts and such.

Helen looked at her son and replied, “Yes dear, I will get off early Friday and we can go after you get home from school.” She saw this as an ideal chance to try out her plan.

@ @ @ @

That Friday, Helen picked Bill up school and they drove to the local mall. Helen led Bill into the huge complex. Bill was confused; this isn’t where he remembered his barber being.

Helen led him to a salon where Billy balked at entering, until his mother pointed out a sign advertising this store specialized in Unisex cuts. He thought, ‘Great I can still keep my long hair just neaten it up a bit.’

A cute teenage girl escorted Bill to a chair where he was covered with a white cape. His mother went and talked to the stylist in hushed whispers who nodded her understanding.

The stylist started by shampooing his hair in a sweet-smelling shampoo. Bill just relaxed and enjoyed the experience. His mother sat in a chair and intently studied her son’s reaction to the pampering. She wondered why she hadn’t recognized earlier that his insistence on having long hair was an acceptable way for a young man to express his feminine side while still remaining in the mainstream of masculinity.

When the stylist was done with her son’s long hair it looked thick and shiny. Where before it had the frizzies and had a tendency to fly all over when it wasn’t in a ponytail, it now flowed down the back of his head and just touched his collar in a neat wave. The girl explained she had merely trimmed the split ends so his hair was still longish.

Helen was delighted. There was no doubt that the effect was undecidedly feminine with the ends in a girly flip curl. Helen thought that if this isn’t what he wanted she would know almost immediately by his reaction.

Bill got out of the chair and Helen told him to wait outside while she paid the bill. Bill stood out in the corridor and looked at his reflection in the glass for the first time. He thought he would be sick at what he saw. His mother seemed so happy at how it had turned out, so how could he tell her that he hated it without breaking her heart?

Just then, Jill led a gaggle of other girls from his school into view. He looked for someplace to hide when he heard a squeal. Jill ran over and engulfed him in a hug. Standing there with his hair in her hands she asked him, “How do you keep your hair looking so good?”

Bill was sure he was about to be teased about his girlie haircut. Since Jill seemed to love it; all her click fell in line with their leader. The other girls chimed in agreeing how great it was. Bill had never had this much attention from the other sex. He was floating on a teenage hormone high.

Helen came out of the salon to see her son surrounded by a pack of girls. She asked, “Well girls, what do you think of Bill’s new fashion statement?"

In unison, they all responded with a chorus of, “We love it!”

Jill then added, “Every girl in school is going to be jealous.”

Helen announced, “We were going to grab a burger before heading home. Would you young ladies care to join us?”

The group pushed together three tables and had a grand time chatting. Billy was the center of attention and he was lapping it up. As they got up to leave, everyone returned their trays. Kim returned first and cornered Bill. She was the fashionista of the group and commented, “Bill, when are you going to get your ears pierced? All the popular guys are doing it.”

Helen overheard the comment and told Bill, “There is a kiosk on the way out. Would you like to do that?”

Several of the girls had joined in and strongly encouraged Bill. They even offered to help him select his first pair of earrings. Bill was uncertain about going through with it as the girls ushered him to the kiosk. He told himself that he had no other choice. He sat on the chair and nervously waited to get his ears done. His mother stood and watched with a grin as wide as her face. When he was asked what, he wanted for his first earrings he turned to his new fan club and told them to select. Jan asked what his birth month was. Helen said his birth month was July. So, Bill left with two ruby red studs in his ears that stood out like Rudolph’s nose.

Helen watched for Bill’s reaction. He had never seemed so happy and she was convinced that she was on the right path. She was still planning on going slow and see where this all led. She hadn’t felt this good in years.

Monday morning, Bill sat eating breakfast. His mother must have commented a dozen times about how much she liked his new style. Bill hadn’t seen her mother so chipper, normally she was majorly depressed about going to work. He decided if all it took was a new hair style to bring her such joy he would stick with it. His mother deserved to be happy.

For the first time in a long time he was looking forward to going to school. He was sure his exploits on the diamond would be the subject of talk among his teammates. He also anticipated his new unisex look would still attract the girls like it did at the mall.

He was standing at his locker when Tom, the school's quarterback, ‘accidentally’ bumped into him, causing Bill to slam up against the lockers and drop his books. As Tom walked away, he sarcastically said, “Excuse me, miss.”

As Bill bent to pick up his things, he found Jill right there, helping him. She said, “Don’t pay any attention to Tom, he's a jealous jerk. I told him how I adore your new look. He doesn’t like me talking about other guys. If I were you I would watch my back until he calms down.”

Bill went between his classes as fast as he could with a watchful eye. On his way to lunch, Elaine cornered Bill in the hallway. As one of the popular girls, she had never spoken to him before. “Hi, Bill can I ask you a question?”

“Sure Elaine. What can I do for you?”

“There is a bet going around among my friends. You have never had a date with a girl that I am aware of. Now with your new pretty hair style, I say you are gay, some disagree. Can you settle the argument for us?”

Bill gave her a deadpan stare and answered, “I only like girls. Does that answer your question?”

Elaine nodded, "Sure, no offense intended.” She walked away, not totally convinced.

Bill went into the bathroom and put his head under a faucet to thoroughly soak his hair and then slick it down.

Bill went home and sat at the kitchen table to do his homework. He was just finishing up when he heard his mother come in. She called out a cherry hello until she saw him. She stopped dead in her tracks and her smile turned to a frown. "Bill, what happened to your hair? It was so cute this morning."

Bill recognized her disappointment immediately. He just couldn’t let her down so he said, “I took a shower got my hair wet and didn’t know how to fix it.”

“Oh, that's no problem. I would be delighted to show you how to get those lovely, bouncy curls back.”

Helen bounded over to her son and gave him a hug, “Let’s go upstairs and I will show you how to repair the damage." She sat him at her vanity and plugged in her curling iron.

It took only a few minutes to restore it to its feminine finery. Bill wanted to cry but kept a smile on his face for his mother’s sake.

Once she was finished she said, “Let’s go out to eat. There is somethings I want to get you.”

After a quick dinner at the local fast food joint, they went to Walmart. His mother bought him his own curling iron, a hair brush and some bath products designed to keep his locks looking full and luscious. Then she bought him a shower cap, to protect his hair in the shower. Bill wanted to vomit. The cap was pale yellow and decked out with a small flower design. He kept his feelings hidden and merely thanked his mother.

Helen was almost euphoric at their new treasures. She couldn’t wait to get home and set up Bill’s bathroom. She put his shampoo, conditioner and bubble bath next to the tub. She made a mental note to pick up a vanity with a mirror for his bedroom. When Bill was getting ready for bed, she checked on his underwear drawer. She saw that the feminine ones were untouched.
Over the next few days, Helen made it a point to not do laundry. Finally, Bill was out of clean underpants.

He looked at his choice in the drawer and decided he would go commando and not wear any. At breakfast, he confronted his mother, “Mom, I'm running out of clean clothes, when are you going to do the laundry?”

Helen smiled at him and calmly replied, “If you want clean clothes do the laundry yourself. I have more important things to do.”

“But Mom, that’s a girl’s job!”

His mother excoriated her son for his sexist remark. “Bill, this is the 21st Century, gender stereotypes are out. Lots of men help around the house. If you want a continuous supply of clean clothes, I suggest you learn to do it.”

“Give me a break Mom.”

“Bill, you get home hours before I do, all you have to do is your homework. You never seem pressed for time. I’ll tell you what, I could really use some help around here. How about I pay you.”

“What will I have to do?”

“You can do all the laundry, cook dinner during the week, and clean up after.”

“Oh, come off it Mom. That sounds like you want me to be your maid.”

Wagging her finger in his face she went on, “Look at it any way you want. It gives me a break and puts some spending money in your pocket.”

Bill gave it some serious thought and by the time he finished his dinner had decided to take the job. Rationalizing it was no different than working in a fast food joint like a lot of his older friends.

@ @ @ @

Every day he would leave for school with his hair in a feminine flip. He would immediately rush to the school bathroom and wet his hair so it laid down flat. When he got home he went to his new vanity and repaired the damage so his mother wouldn’t be disappointed. She daily commented how much she liked his new style. Bill hated it but liked making his mother smile.

The charade went on for several weeks, until a pack of girls cornered him at lunch. "Bill, I have seen you when you come to school. Your hair is always looking fabulous, so why do you wet it down and try and hide it? Don’t you like it? All of us love it and have commented to our boyfriends we wished they would take the time with their personal appearance.”

“I do like it.” Then not leaving well enough alone he added, “I love it and can’t wait to try different styles." The girls were deliriously excited arguing over what hair style would look best on Billie as they now all called him.

The next week, Bill was doing the dishes after the evening meal and Helen heard him swear. She went to check on her son and found him fuming standing at the sink. “What’s the matter, honey?”

“I spilled soapy water all over my shirt and jeans. Now I will have to do a load of wash so I will have something to wear tomorrow.”

Helen rushed to his rescue, "Here honey. From now on, wear this it will keep your things clean.”

“Come off it. That’s a frilly apron. Hel…heck, it is covered in lace, I will look like a girl wearing that.”

Helen smiled to herself and thought, ‘I love it when a plan comes together’.

“I see your problem.” Helen then told a little white lie. “Besides it is the only apron I own. There is no one around to see you. So, it’s this or nothing. You decide, wear it or take the chance of having to do the laundry every day.”

Bill put it on and tied the bow in back like he had been doing it all his life.

Helen came up behind her son and gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

A few days later, she came home and found her laundry neatly folded on her bed. Rather than be delighted at the extra effort Billie had done, she decided this was a good teaching moment. She called Bill. She showed him that her dresses and blouses were wrinkled. She informed him that his job required him to iron her things, not just fold them when they came out of the drier.

Bill started to argue but; seeing the fatigue in his mother’s face, agreed. He would do that as well as his other chores.

Helen came home the next day and was welcomed by the wonderful aroma of dinner in the oven. The table was set and her son was standing in the living room in his lace apron, his hair beautifully done up. He was ironing her extra uniform. She went and examined what he had done and lavished him with praise, “This is as good as any professional laundry.”

Making his mother happy, Bill felt on top of the world.

Helen continued to check on the soft undies she had placed among his undershorts. She was sure her son wanted to wear them. He just needed a push so that his hyper masculinity didn’t feel guilty.

She came up with a workable plan. She went through his underwear with a fine-tooth comb and threw away anything that showed any wear. When Bill was down to the bare minimum she announced that she was going shopping.

When Bill went to his dresser the next morning, he found nothing but white cotton 'Haines for Her' underwear. He was furious and went to confront his mother with a pair dangling from his index finger. “Mom, what’s up with these?”

“Oh, you found them. Aren’t they wonderful? I am sure you’ll love them. I went to the regular store and found out how much jockey shorts cost. So, I was forced to go to Goodwill. They were having a sale, 12 for the price of 10. They’re seconds, but the imperfections were so small I couldn’t find them."

“But Mom, they’re for girls.”

“So, do you plan on showing your underwear to anyone?

“No, of course not.”

“I left you a few pair of yucky boy shorts for days when you have gym. “Try one on and show me how the fit. If it doesn’t fit, I’ll return them.”

Bill went to his room and tried them on, praying they were the wrong size. He reluctantly had to admit they fit and were more comfortable than his jockey shorts.

After working up the nerve, he went to show his mother. She almost swooned over seeing him model them for her. He was as noncommittal as he could be, not wanting to encourage his mother.

Helen watched her son as she had him walk around the room with an almost feline grace. His new underwear lifted and molded his heart shaped backside. The way they hugged his posterior made it wiggle seductively with his every step. She observed his movements with a critical eye and thought, ‘What he lacked on top was compensated for by his derrière.' She couldn’t wait to see what high heels would do for his walk.

Helen noticed they held his ‘boy’ parts snugly and almost presented a feminine front. “Well dear, don’t you have to admit they feel great?”

Bill blushed a bright red, and grudgingly mumbled, “Yes mom, they are comfortable.”

Helen clapped with glee, “Think of all the money we saved! I plan on doing all my clothes shopping at good Goodwill from now on.”

Bill turned and walked to his room muttering under his breath, “Just fucking great.”

Things went well for several weeks, then on a Saturday, Helen decided they would clean out the basement. It was dirty work, sweeping and cleaning their storage area. Both parties were covered in dirt when they got to a large trunk in the very back. Helen let out a whoop of elation.

“Bill, do you know what that is?”

“Not a clue!”

"This was your sister’s cedar Hope Chest. I gave it to her when she became a woman.”

Bill looked at his mother with a funny expression, “But she was only 16 when she died.”

“I know dear. That term is in reference for when Millie had her first period. Please take it upstairs and put it in her old room so we can go through it later. After you have done that, go take a bath and get cleaned up. I’ll call out for pizza. How does that sound?”

“This thing is heavy, it will take me a while to get it upstairs.”

“That’s alright. I’ll run you a hot bath, you can soak in it.”

@ @ @ @

It took Bill a long time to get the large trunk out of the basement and up the flight of stairs to his sister’s bedroom. By the time, he was done, he was exhausted and looking forward to a bath, his whole body ached.

He dropped his dirty and sweaty clothes in his room, grabbed his robe and headed to the bathroom. His mother was just leaving as he walked in.

Bill took one look at the tub and challenged his mother, “Mom, what the heck is going on?”

“Why Bill, what’s the matter is the water too hot?”

“No, it’s a bubble bath.”

“I know. You have worked so hard today. It’s a reward I thought it would be more relaxing. Don’t complain until you have tried it.”

Bill lowered himself into the hot water and found not only was it a bubble bath but it had a very strong lavender smell to it. Nonetheless, he lay in the water and found his mother was right, it was relaxing. He lost track of time and dozed off.

He was awakened by his mother knocking on the door and inquiring if he was alright.

“Yes Mom, I'm fine, I'm just getting out now.”

He stood and brushed the bubbles that were clinging to his body. He stepped out just as his mother walked in.

“Please mother, I’m not dressed.”

She dismissed his concerns with the wave of her hand, “Relax, it is nothing I haven’t seen before.”

She then handed him a warm towel she had just taken from the drier.

She left to let him dry himself and put on his bathrobe. She hadn’t seen him without clothes in years. She marvelled at how his body hadn’t started to develop. To her eye, his man package was insignificant. She thought, ‘If he gets married that is nothing his wife will write home about.'

His lack of size and light blond peach fuzz body hair came from her side of the family. She wondered if his lack of manly development might attribute to his questioning his gender.

Bill headed for his room to get dressed. His mother intercepted him and asked for his help in Millie’s room. He mumbled, “What now?”

“Bill, come here please. While you were in your bath I have been looking through Millie’s stuff in the trunk and in her closet. It’s a shame to let them all rot away in storage. Your sister was a real clothes horse. Not only is her trunk full, but her closet and dresser are overflowing with everything a teenage girl could want. How about helping me decide what to keep, what goes to Goodwill, and what we might even want to sell? But before we make any decisions, I need to determine what shape they are in. I would also like to decide what is still in style; maybe we could have a rummage sale and make some money."

“Sure mom, what is it you need me to do?”

“You are about the same size as your sister.”

Bill didn’t like where this was headed. He replied “Yeah, so what?”

“Can I get you to model them so I can determine their fate?”

Bill thought, ‘Their fate or mine?’

“Mom, you’re crazy, that is such a Scooby Doo idea. I won’t do it!”

Helen immediately broke down and ran to her bedroom sobbing. Bill was conflicted, he didn’t want to play girlie dress up; but he also didn’t want to hurt his mother’s feelings. He went to his bed room and sat down and tried to figure out what to do. He could hear his mother sniffling. It broke his heart. He went to her door and lightly tapped on it.

“Come in.”

Helen was lying on the bed, her shoes on the floor next to her. She sat up, her face puffy from crying.

“I wish you wouldn’t cry mother. I’m sorry for being so stubborn, if it means that much to you. I’ll wear whatever you want.”

Helen gave a deep satisfied sigh. Her eyes sparkled with excitement. She grabbed her son and gave him a reassuring hug. “That’s great Billie. First, I would like you to go to your room and fixed your hair, it’s a mess. Lose the robe, just put on a pair of your new underwear then come back to Millie’s room.

Once the panties were on, he stopped outside the bedroom door feeling foolish and unable to go in.

Helen was getting impatient and called out, “Billie get in here this instant! I'm tired of all your tomfoolery.” Her impatience was clearly evident.

“But it’s cold with nothing on top.”

“I’ll take care of that. Now do as you are told if you are really sorry for hurting my feelings!”

“Yes ma’am.”

Helen sat on her daughter’s bed with a pretty pink chiffon dress spread out next to her. She was feeling really good how things were going. She thought to herself, ‘you can’t push a string, I have to let him progress at his own pace.’

Bill returned his arms wrapped around his chest to ward off the chill. To save money, their household heat was always kept low.

His mother asked if he was cold, “Yes, I’m freezing! Can’t I put on an undershirt?”

“We’ll take care of that in a minute honey. Once you’re dressed you’ll be warm. Wait and see.”

With that she handed him one of his sister’s padded bras. Bill resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Uh Mother, you can’t be serious. That skimpy thing isn’t going to cover much, besides I have nothing to put in it.”

“Honey, that is why it’s padded. Besides it is just the first layer. I need to get the complete picture of what the dresses look like. Now stick your arms out, I’ll help you get this on.”

“Mom, can we discuss this?”

“Billie, relax this is needed if you are going to help me. You still are going to help, aren’t you?”

Bill wanted to say no, but his mother’s enthusiasm convinced him to let her have her fun. “Sure, I am mom.”

The look of pure glee on her face told Bill he had made the right decision.

Helen hooked it up and adjusted the straps. She was pleased her son hadn’t put up a bigger fight about wearing a bra. She was sure his mild protests were simply to protect his manly pride. She was determined to provide him a guilt free outlet for his suppressed feminine desires.

She stood back and examined her son ordering him to stand up straight and keep his shoulders square.

His mother frowned and said, “Tsk-tsk, that will never do”

Bill saw a ray of hope and relaxed. His euphoria only lasted a few seconds as his mother went on to say, “Your sister had blossomed into a very mature figure for her age, but early on she wasn’t so lucky. I believe there are some silicon enhancers your sister used before her form blossomed. They will give you the proper shape to fill out her dresses.”

Helen ducked into Millie’s closet and rummaged through a couple of boxes to retrieve two realistic breasts forms.

Bill steadied himself; he was ready for a showdown with his mother. She had gone too far this time.

Helen returned with two small skin coloured piles of wiggly looking flesh. From her life experiences, she was convinced every male had a fixation with large breasts, equating them with femininity.

She advanced on her son, like a lion closing in on a wounded prey. His mind went blank; he stood in stunned silence, riveted to the floor. His mouth opened and closed like a freshly landed fish.

She slipped them into the bra cups and again adjusted the straps. He didn’t move, the sissification of his predicament only added to his shame. He felt the addition of faux breasts took away the last vestiges of his masculinity. He felt dizzy but was resigned to his fate. He couldn’t think of any way to persuade his mother this was all a mistake without crushing her feelings. He decided to suck it up and soldier on.

Helen stepped back satisfied that she had given him a decent sized bosom. She thought, ‘With the padded bra and enhancers and with the underpants pulled up snugly his true anatomical shape was hard to discern and could easily be mistaken for a biological female.’

She mused, ‘By the time, Millie left home she had graduated to a full D cup bra. I have heard large breasts are passed down from mother to daughter. I wonder how large Billie would like to end up.’

Out loud she commented, “There that will allow the dresses to hang perfectly on you”. She was sure that deep down that was what he wanted.

She went to the bed and slipped the pink chiffon dress over his head. She went behind him and zipped it up. She took a step back and said, "Dear me, that will never do. Your sister must have been taller than you because that dress is dragging on the ground.”

“Can I take it off?”

“Don’t be silly there is another solution; don’t move I’ll be right back.”

Bill could smell a rat. He did as he was told and awaited his mother’s return. Helen hurried to her closet and found just what she was looking for. She suspected Bill’s feet were closer to her size than his sister, she returned with a pair of white three-inch wedge sandals.

“Here put these on.”

“Mother, I will break an ankle wearing high heels.”

“Nonsense, you’re an athlete you can handle something every girl in the country can do. Besides they are a wedge style, it’s not like I’m asking you to wear stilettos.”

He slipped his feet into the shoes; his mother got down on a knee to adjust the straps and secure them to his feet. She stood up and offered her hand to her son and led him around the room. It only took two laps and he was ready to go without his training wheels, she let go of him and stood back and watched.

“That’s great honey, how does it feel?”

“To be honest, I do like being taller. Do you think they make these in a man’s style?”

Helen smiled at the small quip. “Is that all you feel?" Inquired his mother.

What he wouldn’t say was, aside from added height from the heels, Bill was acutely aware of the way the soft fabric tickled his legs. He would die before admitting he was beginning to like the experience.

Helen had to ask, “Can you honestly tell me you don’t find wearing a dress more comfortable than your jeans.”

“Okay Mom, I’ll give you that one. But I can’t imagine sliding into second base in one.”

Helen giggled at that.

“Just one more thing and then we can eat. Walk into your room and sit down at the vanity and let me fix your hair and I’ll add just a touch of makeup.”

Bill sighed in exasperation and thought, ‘what the hell, in for a penny, in for a pound. As long as it makes Mother happy.’

He got to his vanity and sat, very pleased with himself that he made it that far. Rather than congratulations from his mother, she demanded that he stand up. She then gave him lesson 101 on woman’s deportment, he was taught to stand with his back to the seat as close as possible. He was told to put his knees together then ease down gently, keeping his torso straight. Then he was made to smooth his skirt under him before sitting. He was also told proper etiquette dictated that a lady sit with an erect posture with both legs together. Once he had mastered that, his mother magically produce a blizzard array of cosmetics. He already had a nice, even complexion but the foundation smoothed it to perfection. She was going to leave his eyebrows alone but decided to narrow them, just a little.

Bill howled like a wounded animal as she plucked at a few stray hairs.

"You won't even be able to tell I did it." She assured him. Before he knew what hit him, she had his brows shaped, and his eyes, cheeks, and lips painted.

Helen studied her son's face and thought to herself that she might have over done his eyebrows a tad, but rationalized they would grow back in no time.

Bill took one look at the mirror and felt like he was Alice in Wonderland. Before him stood the quintessential teenage girl. Not the little league's champion second baseman. He composed himself and said, “Mother, this is all wrong I look like a woman.”

“Of course, you do, Billie. In fact, you look like sensational prom queen material, just like your sister.”

“But I’m not a woman.”

“Could have fooled me. Do men wear lipstick, mascara, bras, with matching panties and pretty dresses?”

Bill couldn’t muster the same level of enthusiasm as his mother. At that point, Bill realized that he had entered the Twilight Zone. “Mother, please can we just get this over with?”

“Of course, let’s go downstairs and eat our dinner. Then you can change into something more comfortable.”

With a death grip on the stairs handrail Bill made his way down to the main floor without incident. As gracefully as possible, he made his way to the kitchen table and sat like he had been instructed and waited patiently for his mother. The doorbell rang and Helen grabbed her purse and paid for the pizza. Bill made sure his back was to the door. She served the pizza. He picked up the first piece and his mother warned him to only take dainty little bits. It seemed to take forever to get through his customary two slices. When he said that he was done, his mother handed him a tube of lipstick and told him to touch up his lips before he went upstairs to change. Bill knew his mother had lost it, stepping to the small hallway mirror he did as he was told. Surprisingly, he did enjoy the feel and smell of the waxy coating on his lips.

He went to his room and tried to get undressed. He was embarrassed he had to ask his mother for help to get out of the dress and bra. He asked her what he was to do with the dress and other accessories. Helen told him to put them away in his closet and drawers. She had decided to keep everything he had on and it would be better for them. Then she added, “Besides they are now yours to keep and take care of.”

@ @ @ @

He was emotionally spent and dove into bed, pulling the covers over his head. The next thing he heard was his alarm going off. As he headed for the bathroom, the looking glass told him he hadn’t taken off his makeup off. He put on his bathing cap and jumped into the shower. He scrubbed his face with a lot of soap and a washcloth.

He ran his fingers through his hair and started to get dressed for school. He put on his jeans over his girly underwear. He went to his closet and grabbed the first shirt he came too. It wasn’t until he tried to button it that he realized they were on the wrong side. He clearly said, “What the fuck is going on?”

Running late, he looked for his old backpack. He went to the kitchen table where he remembered throwing it down the night before, he found that it was gone. In its place was a paisley-colored bag.

“Mom, what happened to my backpack?”

“That old thing? I threw it out. But don’t worry I got you a very nice shoulder bag.

“Give me a break, it looks like a purse.”

“Billie how can you be so cruel? I take the time to get you a present. Instead of thanks, I get attacked.”

“I’m sorry mom, it is quite pretty. Thanks.”

“I know now get going you’re going to be late.”

@ @ @ @

Bill jogged the mile to school, finding that a shoulder bag proved to be a nuisance compared to running with a backpack. As a result, he arrived just as the last bell sounded. He made a grand appearance and slid into his desk, throwing his bag to his feet. Everyone in the class glared at him. He had no idea why and he paid attention to the teacher.

All morning long he kept getting strange looks for the students and even the teachers. As he entered the lunch room, he looked for a welcoming place to sit. Jill with her posse were sitting in the middle of the cavernous room. Jill stood to get Bill’s attention and waved to an empty seat next to her. He walked over and she said, “Hi Billie we have saved a seat for you. Please join us.”

Bill was surprised at the warm welcome. He sat and opened his bag to get his lunch.

All the girls at the table were looking at him in a strange way. He finally had to ask. “What are all you staring at is my zipper down or something?”

Most of the girls stared down at their food. It was Elaine who spoke up. “It’s just that we don’t see boys wearing makeup that often.”

“What are you talking about,” retorted Bill.

Jill handed him her compact and what he saw made his blood run cold.

His lips were a faint rose color his eyelashes were thick and black and, worst of all, his eyes were still lined with black.

“I don’t understand, I showered this morning,” he stammered.

Jill leaned in close. “I bet I know what happened. You must have used kiss-proof lipstick, and waterproof eye makeup. Neither of those come off with just soap and water.

“Girls, let's help our friend.”

She rummaged through her purse and pulled out what to Bill looked like a wet wipe. She proceeded to rub it on his lips, and then showed him the pink color.

“If you are going to wear makeup you should always carry disposable cosmetic wipes for last minute clean-ups.”

Jill leaned in close so none of the others could hear. “Billie, tell me what’s going on.”

Bill looked for somewhere they could have a private conversation. He didn’t see any place that was convenient. “Meet me at the flag pole after our last class and I will tell you everything.”

@ @ @ @

After his last class, Bill headed for his locker. Only to be met with half a dozen of the school’s biggest jocks. He was pinned with his back to the lockers surround by 1,200 pounds of testosterone enraged muscle bound bigots yelling expletives at him. All he had wanted to do was make his mother happy and now for the first time in his young life Bill feared for his safety.

Bill closed his eyes tight and braced for the first blows to fall. He waited and waited and nothing happened. He suddenly smelled a cornucopia of sweet scents. He opened his eyes and found there was a phalanx of girls guarding him from the bullies. Some of them he didn’t even know.

The girls escorted him out of the building, giving each of the jocks a sneer of their own. The boys would soon realize that they would pay for their vicious attitudes when it came time to look for dates. The girls might not have heard of the Powder Puff Fortress, but they regarded Bill as a friend and they would not allow him to be brutalized.

Jill walked home with him, all the way to his front door, during which Bill laid his soul bare and explained everything. Bill was sure that she would see him as being weak for giving in to his mother’s wishes.

To his surprise, she threw her arms around his head and pulled their faces together. She kissed him with such a passion that Bill felt weak in the knees. She took his hand and, with her lipstick, wrote her phone number on his palm.

She held his face in her hands and said, “Please call me. Anyone who would do what you are doing for their mother is someone I want to get to know better. Don't worry, things will be okay.” She smiled as she walked away and waved to him at the end of driveway.

When Helen got home she walked in to be greeted with a delicious aroma of a simmering pot-roast. In the living room stood Billie, wearing one of Millie’s dresses, protected by his frilly apron. He was concentrating on whatever was on the ironing board. Behind him was a long line of her clothes all neatly ironed. Helen was overwhelmed and all she could think of to say was, “Hi honey I’m home what’s for dinner?”

They sat down to dinner and Bill played maid as he served his mother. He finally explained about his day, leaving off the kiss at the front door.

Bill was walking on air all weekend. He gladly acted as a fashion model for his mother. His only objection was when Helen produced something from her hope chest and asked if he would wear it for her with the promise it would give him a classic hourglass figure. It was a 1950’s vintage corset with a built-in bullet bra. He finally put his foot down on that one even if it was a high heeled foot.

Things were going well until Sunday evening when Helen had Billie try walking in a pair of his sister’s 5 inch stilettos. He tried, but the results were comical, he bounced around the room like a bumper car. Even Helen agreed they were a bridge too far and he went back to the 3 inch sandals determined to buy her son a pair of fashionable heels at the first opportunity.

Around dinnertime, the phone rang. It was Bill's high school principal saying that he wanted to see both Helen and Bill in his office first thing Monday morning. The two of them had their own ideas about why Mr. Anderson wanted to see them the next day.

Helen was sure that it was to assure her that the incident with the boys would not be allowed to happen again. She had intended to call the school and give the principal a piece of her mind. She would be able to do that in person instead.

Bill thought that the principal would be scolding them because he had come to school wearing makeup. The rules were very clear that only light makeup was allowed and he had looked like a girl out on a date. Everyone had given him angry looks all morning and at least one teacher had to have complained about him.

His mother did not notice how quiet he was through dinner and clean up. He made an excuse that he was really tired and he went up to bed. He was suddenly sorry that he had gone along with his mother's crazy ideas of dressing him up. If he had not agreed, he would not be in trouble now and she would not have to go to school to have a talk with the principal.

@ @ @ @

Bill was out of bed as soon as his alarm sounded. He made quite certain that his face was completely devoid of makeup before he jumped into the shower. He knew that his mother would be disappointed, but he washed the curls out of his hair so that he was left with just long hair that he could put into his preferred low ponytail. He thought that she would accept the explanation that the principal would want to see him as a boy would work.

He was frustrated to find that none of his regular flannel shirts were in his closet. Instead, there were the light-weight shirts in various pastel colors that apparently, his mother had bought for him. He would have been happy with a sweatshirt, but he couldn’t find those either. He settled for a pale blue shirt that felt like it was made from silk. His undershirts had been replaced with lacy trimmed white tank top things, which to him looked like a cutoff negligee. He wanted to fight it but thought no one would see what he had on. At least he could wear his jeans and trainers.

He was eating his normal breakfast of toast and skim milk when Helen came out to the kitchen. She smiled at him when she saw that he had started the coffee maker for her and she only needed to pour a cup to get her morning caffeine. Her smile faded a bit when she saw Bill's hair, but she nodded in appreciation of his choice of blouse. While he had not done his hair this morning, he had not made an issue of the fact that he couldn’t find his old shirts. She decided to say nothing about his hair right now as she was in a hurry to talk to Mr. Anderson.

"That is a nice color on you," she commented, watching carefully for his reaction. "Do you like it?"

Bill gave her a stink face and felt caught between two bad choices. If he said no, he was sure that he would hurt her feelings. If he said yes, she would push more things like this at him. He wished he knew what he could say to make her stop without making her cry. If this went on much longer, she would have him wearing dresses to school.

"I do like the color, blue has always been my favorite, but it's not quite as warm as my other shirts," he said. "At least it is not cold outside yet."

Helen waved dismissively. "Oh, you can wear a pretty sweater when it starts to get colder."

"Why is your hair like that?" Helen asked. "Don't you like the curls?"

Again, Bill tried to think fast. "I thought that it might be good to go to school like this today. Especially after last Friday."

Helen evidently found his reasoning sound because she nodded in agreement. They quickly finished their breakfast and headed off to school in her car.

They arrived before most of the buses that transported students from the outlying neighborhoods. What kids were in the halls paid them no attention as the two of them went to the administration office. When Helen told the secretary who she was, they were shown to a small conference room and told that Mr. Anderson would be there in a few minutes. There was coffee and fruit juice on the table, so Bill helped himself to an orange juice.

After about ten minutes, Mr. Anderson came into the room followed by three women with stern expressions on their faces. The principal was a thin and scholarly looking man with black framed glasses and a ramrod-straight posture. Combined with the looks on the faces of the women, it felt like they were facing some sort of court with Mr. Anderson as the judge.

This was not what either Bill or Helen had expected as they had anticipated speaking with only the principal. A quick round of introductions ensued. It appeared that two of the ladies were from the school district's child psychology department, the other was from Child Protective services.

All of them moved into Mr. Anderson’s office, leaving Bill alone. He took a seat near the door where he could hear what was being said behind the closed doors. At first, Bill couldn’t make out what was being said, but as tempers flared, the volume and intensities sent the words through the door. It was readily apparent that Bill’s mother was being accused of forcing him to dress as a girl. Bill had chills down his spine when they threatened his mother with having Bill removed from her care. Mr. Anderson asked for calm. At that point, two of the ladies exited the office and suggested that Bill accompany them. Bill was led away while Helen continued to talk with Mr. Anderson and the other lady.

Once they were in the vice principal's office they confronted Bill. “Relax young man, you are not the one in trouble. By the way that is a lovely blouse you are wearing. Who made you wear it?”

Bill stared at her in wide-eyed amazement, “What makes you think it’s a blouse?”

“Bill, give us some credit. I am sure you noticed it buttons on the left side. Where a man’s shirt buttons are on the other si

Bill slouched in his chair and waited for the other shoe to drop.

“We have reports you have been wearing makeup to school. That, in itself, is a matter of concern, but what is really upsetting is that we have heard it was your mother who is making you do those kinds of things.”

“Who told you that?”

“Mr. Anderson’s daughter had a conversation with one of your classmates who said your feminine hairstyle and makeup were all because of your mother’s insistence.”

Bill could see where this was going and didn’t like it one bit. He had always been taught to never lie but in this case, he felt that it was a necessity.

“That's a lie, I like my hair. The makeup was a mistake. I was experimenting with my mother’s stuff and didn’t get it washed off; my mother had nothing to do with it.”

One of the ladies asked skeptically, “Why would you want to put on makeup?”

Billie’s stomach was tightening up and he had to think fast.

“I had a sister who was killed in a car accident. Everyone has always said we look a lot alike. I couldn’t see it so I thought if I used makeup it would be a better test.”

The two women left Bill alone.

Fifteen minutes later, Bill got a call to come into Mr. Anderson’s office. He walked in and found the room crowded, Mr. Anderson was in there, along with his very concerned mother, the three ladies from district and standing behind them was Jill.

Mr. Anderson motioned to the hard-back chair right in front of his desk. Realizing he was hung on his own petard. He sat down as demurely as he could. Trying to stay in character he crossed his ankles and placed his hands in his lap.

Mr. Anderson stood up and leaned forward with his hands on his desk.

“Billie, we seem to have a problem here. Someone is not telling the truth. I intend to get to the bottom of this.”

"Jill here tells us you told her your mother was, if not making you, at least encouraging you to dress like a girl.”

"Did you tell her that?’

Bill licked his dry lips and told the truth, “Yes sir, I said all those things.”

“Now you are saying it was all your idea. Do you see why we are confused?”

Bill turned his gaze to Jill. “I can explain, I really, really like Jill and told her those things so she wouldn’t think me a sissy.”

The three ladies and Mr. Anderson went into a huddle. When they broke, one of the ladies from the district's child psychology department took over the discussion.

“Bill, we are not sure you are telling us the whole truth. But we are in agreement that you need some one-on-one counseling. We will work up a schedule for after school sessions.”

"The representative from Child Perfective Services insists that your mother get help too. From what we have heard, if nothing else, she needs help in handling her daughter’s death.”

Mr. Anderson said, “Now you and Jill get going so you won’t be late for class.

Bill held the door for Jill and was dreading what was coming next.

Once in the hall, Jill reached over and grabbed Bill by the bicep, digging her nails into his arm.

With a grimace on her face she said, “If we are going to be friends we can never lie to each other. Now were you telling the truth in there?”

Bill replied with a tone of exasperation, “No, not all of it. They were talking about charging my mother and placing me in a foster home. I couldn’t let that happen. What I told you on our walk is the God’s honest truth.”

Jill wiped the scowl off her face and adopted a softer tone. “Are you telling me you would rather the entire town think you are a sissy then get your mother in trouble?”

“Yes, that sums it up.”

“The other thing you said in there was that the truth?”

“The other thing?”

“Yes dummy, about liking me?”

Bill blushed crimson. “Yes, that was the truth.”

Jill took Bill by the hand and the walked toward their first class. At the door, she asked him, “How about we see a movie on Friday?”

“Sure, what time to do want me to pick you up?”

“I don’t want to go out. Bring a pizza and I will rent a movie and we can hang out at my house. My parents are going out of town and will be gone until Sunday night, so we’ll have the place to ourselves.”

Jill disappeared into her classroom leaving a lovesick Billie starring after her.

@ @ @ @

It was fortunate that Jill only lived a couple of blocks away from his house. After a quick stop for a takeout pizza, Bill stood nervously at Jill’s front door. She opened the door before the chimes had died down. “Come in Bill. I’ve been waiting for you.”

She took the pizza and laid the box on the dining room table. She motioned for Bill to sit while she went to retrieve a soda for each of them. She placed them on the table and took a seat across from Bill. They sat and ate while enjoying a delightful conversation. They felt totally at ease, there was none of the normal teenage awkwardness or sexual tension.

After they were done, Bill took the initiative and cleaned up.

Bill asked, “What movie have you picked for us?”

“I didn’t get one. I thought I would rather just hang out and get to know you better.”

A smiling Bill agreed instantly.

Jill took Bill by the hand and led him to her bedroom. The room was exactly what Bill expected. It was all pink and lace with a menagerie of stuffed animals on the canopy bed. She went to the bed and cleared it by sweeping everything on to the floor. She sat and patted the seat next to her as an invitation for her guest to join her. Bill maneuvered through the minefield of stuffed animals and sat next to her. The two just talked and talked and came to enjoy each other’s company.

They both became parched and Jill went downstairs to get them more sodas. She returned carrying two full glasses of Coke with ice. As she maneuvered toward the bed, she tripped and spilled both glasses on Bill. Soaking his shirt and pants.

Bill jumped up in shock. Jill was all apologetic and ran to her bathroom to get a towel.
In her absence, Bill tried to keep from dripping onto the floor.

Jill took the towel and tried to soak up the mess she made. Giving up in exasperation she ordered Bill to take off his pale-yellow silk shirt and pants saying she would wash them.

Bill resisted mightily, until Jill just took matters in her own hands. Being about the same size and a couple of years older. She was his equal in strength she merely reached over and pulled his shirt over his head. Jill gasped in surprise when she discovered rather than a boy’s undershirt Bill was wearing a lacy camisole. Jill with a mischievous smile said, “I love your taste in lingerie. What else do you have on?”

“Just my panties,”

Jill’s eyes bugged out, “Oh, I have to see. Please show me.”

Bill stripped his pants off and turned a hundred shades of red and stood there while Jill picked up his wet things and ran them to the laundry.

When she returned, she went directly to her closet and found an old pair of slacks that she threw to Bill to put on.

Bill tried to pull them up but they were too small and he couldn’t get them over his hips.

She solved that problem by getting a long skirt with an elastic waist. Bill objected but, like dealing with his mother, he knew resistance was futile. He put it on and the next logical step was the matching top. It turned out to button in the back. He slipped his arms in and Jill stepped behind him to do up the dozen small pearl buttons.

Once he was dressed, Jill was profuse in her praise on had good he looked. Bill was conflicted between being proud and ashamed. In the end, he did what he thought Jill wanted. He would do about anything for one of her smiles.

She talked him into walking for her. Bill was in shock, it seemed every female in his life wanted him in skirts. The two of them walked back and forth several times, Jill took the opportunity to give him advice on how a girl walks.

Bill's clothes were dry and Jill went to get them. Back in her bedroom she happened to glance out her window, there parked across the street was her now ex-boyfriend Tom sitting in his truck.

Jill had to think fast, Tom had obviously seen that her bedroom light was on. If Bill left the house, he would be dead meat at Tom's hands.

Her plan was simple: Bill wouldn’t leave; her cousin Wilhelmina would. After explaining the situation to Bill, he eventually saw the logic of her argument.

Jill knew it would have to be a dramatic change. She went to her mother’s room and found a long dark brown wig. It would hide Bill’s blond hair effectively. She rummaged through her closet and found an old floor length velvet prom dress. She had Bill put it and the wig on. She sat him down at her vanity and gave Bill a makeover. She made it heavy and dramatic. Black eyeliner accented his big brown eyes, light shades of eye shadow to bring out his deep-set eyes. His long lashes took the mascara beautifully and curled nicely. He had gorgeous eyes now. Ones that any girl would be proud of. Her pièce de résistance was a pair of black four inch heels, making Bill’s height greater than hers. She put on a pair of flats to emphasize their height differences.

She spent 20 minutes coaching Bill in walking with the heels. When he complained, the shoes hurt his feet, Jill merely smiled unsympathetically and told him he would get used to it. It is the price of fashion. He minced about at first but quickly adapted thanks to Jill’s coaching and his previous experience with his mother. As a counter balance to Bill’s ultra-feminine ensemble, Jill slipped on a pair of black slacks, a white blouse, finishing it off her almost masculine look with a black leather coat.

It was now dark and Tom was still camped out in his truck. The two conspirators decided it was now or never. Bill stood at the front door with his heart racing and his legs feeling like jelly. It was one thing to dress like a girl at home for his mother. It was another altogether to go out into the real world dressed like this.

“Shall we go?” said Jill as she thrust a purse into Bill's hand.

“I can’t. Tom will recognize me and beat the shit out of me.” Bill's feet seemed to be glued to floor, not letting him leave the house.

“Nonsense! You have nothing to worry about. You are not only 100% passable as a young lady, but also very pretty. If anything, Tom might hit on you, certainly not hit you.”

Bill digested what Jill had just said and wasn’t all that sure being called “pretty” by a girl he fancied was really a compliment. It destroyed the last of his male psyche.

Bill stiffened his resolve and let Jill lead him out the door. He stood quaking as Jill turned and locked the front door. She then took him by the hand and led him down the walkway toward the sidewalk.

Tom saw the front door open and he got out to lean on the front bumper. As the two reached the sidewalk, Tom stood in their path. “Hi honey, who’s your friend?”

“None of your business, but this lady is my cousin and my best friend Wilhelmina she will be visiting for a few days. Now get out of the way!”

Jill tried to walk around him. Tom reached out and grabbed Jill by the arm. Bill started to go after the bully, Jill reached out with her free hand and held Bill back.

Tom asked, “What happened to us?”

“You happened Tom, with your actions last Friday in school. You showed me your true colors, I can never be with anyone who treats others that way.”

“Hey, I was just showing that wimp Billie that his kind is not wanted around here.”

“For your information, Bill is twice the man you are. If you or any of your friends lay a hand on him I will make you sorry.”

Tom laughed at the threat and said, “Just how are you going to do that?”

“Easy. I will spread the rumor that we broke up when I caught you wearing my panties.”

“You can’t do that!”

“Oh, yes I can and I will! Just try me! You and all of your friends will be spending the rest of high school celibate and dateless.” Jill took Billie's hand and they walked on down the sidewalk, leaving Tom watching them.

They strolled home in the dark, occasionally stopping under a dark spot to steal a quick kiss. Bill was in bliss.

This was beyond his wildest hopes; he hated to ruin a good thing but had to ask, “Jill, why are you doing this?”

Jill took Bill by the arms and turned him so he was facing her.

“I am not completely sure. All I know is you are so much different than all the muscle heads I normally date. I find myself attracted to your soft sincere side.”

Then she went on, totally surprising Bill. “As Bill, you make a great friend, as Billie or Wilhelmina if you prefer, I find myself physically attracted to you. I can’t explain it, maybe I have a repressed lesbian side. I just know that, dressed like you are really turns me on in a way no muscle-bound meat head ever has. Can we just go with the flow for now and see where it leads us?”

Arriving at his front door, Bill’s plan was to rush upstairs to his bedroom before his mother would see how he was dressed. That plan evaporated the minute the front door was opened.
Helen was standing right there, her arms crossed in front of her chest. Bill stopped dead in his tracks. Jill pushed Bill into the house and also stopped when she saw the waiting greeting party.

Helen stood awe struck, staring at the two teenagers and said, “Who do we have here?”

“Hello Mrs. Williams, I’m Jill from school. I walked your daughter home to make sure she got home safely.”

Helen was delighted and insisted neither move until she got her camera. She returned and took several portraits of her daughter and what appeared to be her date. She was determined to have the best one framed so she could put it over the mantel. Jill gave Bill a sisterly hug and left. Bill rushed upstairs answering all his mother’s questions with “Not tonight. We can talk tomorrow.”

Saturday Bill related the story as it happened. Helen listened unsure of what to make of it. It had a ring of truth to it, but she felt there was something more going on.

@ @ @ @

Monday, Bill headed to school feeling depressed. Christmas was only weeks away. He had no money and no idea what present to get his mother, and now he had a girl he wanted to impress. He racked his brain trying to think of what he could get or do for the women in his life.

His mother had her first mandatory appointment with the social worker assigned to her case and she came home a beaten woman. Bill had made an omelet for their dinner. He greeted her in his apron and his hair curled, hoping to cheer her up. She was grateful for Bill’s effort; but ordered Bill to take off the fancy apron, saying he was never to wear it again.

She never ate the dinner, she merely pushed the food around her plate. When Bill asked, what was wrong, his mother broke down and cried. Bill insisted she talk to him. Eventually, she confessed she had been warned that if social services found Bill dressing as Billie for his mother again he would be taken away from her. They told her that they did not believe that Bill's cross-dressing was of his own desires, but her own.

“How would they know what we do in our home?' Asked Bill

“They have warned me they will stop by for unplanned home visits. I’m sorry honey, Billie needs to go back in the closet and stay there.”

Later in the week, Bill had his first appointment with a school appointed therapist right after his last class. A dejected Bill headed for his school locker. To his surprise, Jill was leaning against his locker waiting for him.

“Hi Bill. How did it go?”

“Terrible! The bitch told me that if my mother continued to dress me up like a girl she could go to jail for contributing to the delinquency of a minor.”

“That’s bull. My aunt is a lawyer there is no law against a man wearing a dress.”

“No, you’re right, the city's point of view is still that my mother is forcing me. No matter how hard I argued she wasn’t, they wouldn’t listen.”

“Bill, let’s walk and talk. Are you sure your mother isn’t forcing you at least subconsciously?”

Bill shrugged, “I really don’t know. I do it because it makes mommy happy and it seems to make Millie’s loss more bearable for her.”

He blushed and scuffed his feet, “I will admit that, when I wear her clothes, it makes me feel closer to my sister. It makes her loss easier for me too, especially with the holidays coming up.”

Jill marveled at how introspective her friend was. “Billie, if it makes you and your mother feel better, I don’t think you should stop.”

“But I don’t want to get Mom in trouble. The social worker told me she would be stopping by unexpectedly to check on me.”

Jill again walked Bill home. Both lost in thought.

Jill invited Bill to come over after school on Thursday, explaining that her mother Elizabeth had a club meeting and her dad would be at work, so they would have several hours to be alone.

Bill asked if there was anything he could bring. Jill’s reply surprised him when she asked if he had a picture of Millie. She would explain when he got there.

@ @ @ @

On Thursday, Bill ran all the way home. He changed his clothes, took the framed picture of his sister off his night stand, and rushed to Jill’s.

Jill greeted him at the front door with a smile and a quick kiss on the lips.

“Did you bring it?

Bill handed the picture to Jill, she held it up next to his face and said, “Come with me, we have a lot to do.”

Bill followed her up to the bedroom where Jill had laid out peach lingerie, nude stockings, and a garter that also matched the lingerie. A white blouse and a navy skirt were hung on the front of the closet door. Below the skirt sat a couple of pairs of mules, one with two inch heels and the other with four inch heels.

Bewildered Bill asked, “What’s going on?”

Jill set Millie’s picture on her vanity. "Bill, I want to try something, if you will allow me.”

“What do you have in mind?” asked Bill.

“I want to see if I can make you into Millie’s body double. We will keep this entire thing on the down low, so no one gets into trouble. From what you tell me, your mother is depressed and I suspect you are headed that way as well." She paused for a moment and said sadly, "I saw the same kind of behavior with my aunt when her husband died. I don't want the same kind of thing to happen to either of you.

"Now, I have always been a problem solver. Your mother needs something to bring her out of her funk and I think together we can give her what she needs. Imagine her expression when Millie walks in on her. She will know it is only an illusion but it might be just what she and I think you both need.”

Bill was unsure but realized Millie would be the ideal present for his mother, but he had his reservations.

Bill took Jill by the hand and looked her in the eyes. “What you are saying makes a lot of sense.”

Jill stopped Bill, “I hear a BUT coming.”

“Yes, I am afraid so. Our relationship is still in its infancy and I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize that. Besides I’m not a transvestite.”

“Bill, you are such a stereotypical blonde headed ditz. Of course, you’re not a TV. What you are is a loving son, willing to swallow his macho pride to do something special for his mother. I consider Bill to be one of my best friends. I am sure we can have a future together. Billie/Wilhelmina is a part of the Bill I am developing strong feelings for.”

Jill smiled as she thought back a few days when she transformed Billie into a real hottie. “The other day, when I got you all dolled up as Wilhelmina, tell me how you felt.”

Bill thought for a minute. The silence was deafening between them. Finally, Bill’s thoughts came clear. He prayed what he was about to say wouldn’t alienate his new friend.

“I am going to be totally honest with you. As a teenage boy, I have been less than happy with my appearance. I spent a lot of time on the net trying to figure out why I felt this way. Being undersized I have to always try to overcompensate by being as manly as I can. What you did by changing a geekie boy into Wilhelmina, an illusion of a pretty adult, changed not only my exterior but also caused a metamorphosis to my personality. It set me free of all the pressures to prove myself as a man. I have given it a lot of thought, being a glamorous Wilhelmina was a way to bridge the psychological chasm between Bill and Billie, you set free the inner me.

"The way Tom looked at me was both disturbing and thrilling. The way you treated me was exhilarating. I don’t think I would like to be that way long term. But, like a vacation, it is someplace I would like to visit frequently. I have to confess it might be easy to lose myself in the role of Billie.”

Jill was thrilled at what she was hearing. She had always been a dominant personality that she had to suppress in her normal boyfriend’s relationships. She sensed that a relationship with Billie would set her personality free and she could be herself. She was also going to pursue her friendship with Bill.

He explained he loved his sister and wasn’t certain if his pretending to be her wasn’t in some way mocking her memory.

Jill just about jumped down his throat as she turned to him and looked him sternly in the eye. “Being Millie is a way of honoring her memory. As long as you make an honest effort to be the best Millie you can be.”

Bill gave that some thought and consented to go ahead. Jill decided to move forward with her plan. She studied Millie's picture and said, "I don't have clothes that match what Millie is wearing here, but I know that you will look just like her sister when we are done."

Bill wasn’t convinced and she nudged Bill in the direction of her bathroom and said, "This will be better for you if you make sure that your legs and arms have no hair. When you last dropped trousers, I noticed your leg hair, it may be fine and blonde but was still there and very unladylike. That is why I fitted you with a floor length dress.

Handing Bill a strange bottle she said, “I bought you some hair remover, so you can use it on your legs. As long as we are going that far you should also use it on your arms and pits. Make sure that you do not get it on your head!"

Bill let himself be pushed into the bathroom. He could see that Jill had prepared things for him in here also. Bath towels had been set out and the bottle of hair remover she had mentioned stood next to them. He kicked off his trainers and sat on the edge of the bathtub to read the directions on the bottle. When he was done, he set it down again and just sat with his head on his fists, wondering what he had let himself in for.

Jill seemed to be very enthusiastic about helping him dress up as Billie, which was confusing. What was she planning? Should he be worried? He had started out being dressed up in Millie's old clothes and he had been embarrassed. But he had gotten comfortable with that. While he was a guy, he wasn't an athlete or a muscle-bound thug like some of the boys at school. He knew that his mother was happier when he appeared as Billie, but she had acknowledged that she knew that it was her son Bill in the dress, not her daughter Millie.

If wearing a dress and some makeup made her happy, he was willing to do that. But removing all his body hair seemed sort of severe. If that that is what Jill thought best, he was willing to trust her.

He stepped out of the shower denuded and as he dried off realized gym class was going to be a problem. There was only one more before Christmas break he would have his mother write him a note to get out of it. He had no idea how long it would take to grow back, but prayed it would not be noticeable. He would wear sweat pants and avoid taking showers until he was normal.

Stepping back into Jill’s bedroom, he used the wet towel to cover his private parts. Jill smiled at his modesty and pointed to his underwear. She turned her back while Billie got dressed.

After her was dressed she sat him down at her vanity and using Millie’s picture worked her magic. After an hour, Billie could easily be mistaken as Millie’s identical twin. Jill was delighted in her efforts. The two spend the afternoon just hanging out in Jill’s bedroom. They were eventually discovered by Jill’s mother. Bill was scared to death, but Jill simply introduced Billie as a new girl in school. Jill’s mother was very gracious and invited Billie to stay for dinner.

Bill excused himself saying his mother was expecting her home for dinner.

Jill walked her girlfriend to the front door and said goodbye with a sisterly hug. While in the hug she whispered into his ear, “We’ll have to do this again soon.”

@ @ @ @

Three days later, Jill sat next to Bill during lunch. “My mother is not going to be home until late. Would Billie like to come over for dinner?”

“Are you kidding me? I would love to. What time would you like me to be there?”

“As early as possible, I want to teach Billie to do his own makeup. How does that sound?”

“Okay, I guess. Is there anything you need me to do?”

“Shave your face real close.”

Billie showed up at Jill’s house, carrying the clothes he wore home escaping Tom. They were freshly washed and neatly packed in a small traveling case.

Jill met Billie with a huge and a mischievous grin. "Come on Billie I’m going to teach you how to bring out your inner diva.”

Jill took Bill directly to her room, throwing the clothes in a corner. With Bill, still in his boy clothes, Jill gave Billie a quick tutorial in countering his face to hide the rough edges and give him a more feminine appearance.

Bill was a quick study and learned all the tricks in only a few minutes. The concept of shading and high lighting took a bit of time.

Jill was finally satisfied he had it, saying, “Good you have the basics down pat. School's out. Let me show you what can be done from here.”

She proceeded to give him a total makeover. Explaining not only what she did every step, but the why of it. He sat stoically realizing any resistance would not help his position with Jill. He sat demurely and fought to control the occasional tremor that racked his body. As a boy, he knew that he was not supposed to wear makeup, let alone like it. But he was enjoying it and he was seriously confused. Was it the makeup or the closeness of Jill that he enjoyed. He prayed it was the latter.

When she was done, both parties realized that Bill’s face was buried under layers of paint. In its place was a creature that looked like a woman waiting for a night on the town.

Jill surprised Bill with a gift, a conversion kit for turning pierced earrings into clip-ons. She rummaged through her jewelry case until she found a glamorous pair of long rhinestone chandelier earrings and their matching necklace.

Jill stood back and admired her creation, “You know Billie, with the right cocktail dress, you would be a knockout. The guys would be falling all over themselves to compete for your affections.”

Bill blushed cherry red and replied, “Thanks a lot. That is what I have always wanted a bunch of Neanderthals drooling after me. I have spent my life trying to avoid those types. It’s not like I suddenly want to attract their attention.”

It was at that moment that Jill realized that Bill had zero interest in men. She was relieved as she had heard the rumors at school that he was gay. Before they could proceed any further, Jill heard her mother’s car pull into the two-car garage located under her bedroom.

Bill panicked, “Quick Jill! You have to help me get this makeup off before I am found by your mother.”

Jill understood Billie's worry, she felt very much the same way. But one of them needed to at least seem to be calm. “Sorry, there isn’t enough time for that.”

Billie headed for Jill’s large closet and said, “Well hide me then.”

“That won’t work either. I think it is better to hide in plain sight.”

A bewildered Bill inquired, “What the hell are you talking about? This isn’t the time for riddles.”

“Simple. We will give my mother the new girl she met previously. We’ll just throw a dress on you and tell her we were up here playing dress up.”

Bill was not convinced but saw no other choice but to go along with Jill. She quickly scanned her closet and couldn’t find anything that would work, Billie’s lack of breasts made a dress a difficult decision. She had to find something that would hide that fact. She went to her dresser and dug out a non-descript baggy grey sweat suit. She threw it at Billie saying, “Quick put these on. They're baggy enough to hide the fact that your chest is missing.”

Bill put it on and slipped on his white trainers, just as Jill’s mother walked in.

“Hi girls what’s going on? Hope you are not getting into trouble.”

“No mother, we were just experimenting with our makeup. There is a Christmas dance coming up and I was trying to decide what the best colors are for Billie.”

“As long as you don’t have a boy up here I'm happy. Why don’t you girls come down stairs now? I brought home Chinese and there is plenty for us as your father called and told me he has a dinner meeting with clients.”

Mrs. Hawthorn fixed Billie with a mock glare and said, “Young lady, don’t try and back out again. I want to get to know my daughter’s friends. Now both of you wash up and come down to eat.”

Bill started to object but was stopped dead in his tracks, “I won’t take no for an answer. If need be, I’ll call your mother and talk to her.”

Bill managed to get out, “That’s alright Mrs. Hawthorn. I’ll text my mother and explain that I am eating here.”

As they sat down at the formal dining room table, Mrs. Hawthorn poured herself a glass of wine and gave the girls a glass of milk.

Billie said, “Thank you Mrs. Hawthorn.”

"Please call me Liz." She smiled at Billie and said, "We do not stand upon formality as such. Jill calls me Mom, but I am much lenient with her friends. Speaking of names, isn’t Billie an unusual name for a girl?”

Billie was thinking on his feet now, fear of discovery almost had him babbling.
“Yes, it is. My given name is Wilhelmina. I never liked that so I go by Billie.”

“I can understand that. My name is Elizabeth that is why I go by Liz.”

Liz and Jill attacked their dinner using chopsticks. Bill, not wanting to embarrass himself, asked for a fork. As they ate, they made small talk. Liz kept trying to draw Billie out asking questions about school and where she was coming from.

Bill told a small white lie and told the story, after his parents divorced he went to live with his father. But decided to return home to live with his mother.

Bill about choked when Liz asked Billie who she was going to the Christmas dance with.

Jill stepped in to save Bill. “Mom, Billie doesn’t have a boyfriend yet.”

“Jill, she's your friend why don’t you fix her up with one of your friends. You could double date.”

“Please mom, that's not necessary. Billie and I are going together. I dumped Tom so we will go and just hang out,” Jill said as she gave Bill a wink.”

“Are you telling me that you two are romantically involved?

“No mother, I see Billie as the little sister I never had.”

“Jill, I'm not comfortable with two girls going together. That just seems wrong in so many levels.”

“Mom get with it, you are so old fashioned. This is the 21st Century. A lot of students go to dances without dates.”

Bill decided to keep his mouth shut. No matter who won the argument, he felt assured he would be the big loser.

The discussion went on for several minutes. It ended amiably with both women agreeing to disagree.

The three ‘ladies’ had an enjoyable meal. Bill was never able to relax, always afraid he would say something that would reveal his true nature. Most inquiries directed in his direction were handled in monosyllabic responses.

Jill tried to cover for Billie by telling her mother, “Mommy, you must understand that Billie is really very shy.” Then with a teasing gleam in her eye she went on, “You think she is uncommunicative around us. With boys around she acts like a mute. From what she has told me, she has never even kissed a boy. I am working on helping her in that area.”

Bill nonchalantly reached under the table and kicked Jill lightly in the shins.”

After the two girls cleared the table, they put the leftovers back in their containers for Bill to take home. Bill then had a chance to talk to Jill in private. “Jill, I have to get home before my mother gets off work. How am I going to get changed and remove this makeup without your mother seeing? Bill running out the front door won’t work.”

Jill hugged her friend in an attempt to get him to relax.

"Don't worry so much!" she said. "You only live a couple of blocks away, remember? I'll tell my mother that you're going to go home and you leave as Billie. Then you call your mother to tell her that you are on your way. You could go in the back door at your house so that no one will see you and you change back to Bill."

"What if your mother wants to drive me home? And I’ll never get all this makeup off." Billie asked, typically looking for problems.

"I'll just tell her that it's only a block or two and that you don't need a ride. It's still light out, so she won't have a problem. The sweat suit you are wearing has a hood. Just pull it over your head. The suit is androgynous enough, so it would serve for Bill and Billie. Wait here, I’ll run to my room and get you some make-up remover towelettes. You can clean your face as you walk home. They may not get everything off, but should by you time to get to your bathroom to complete the job."

Their plan went off without a hitch. Liz did offer to drive Billie home, but gave in quickly as Jill predicted. Bill hunkered down inside the sweatshirt and with his leftovers in one hand and the towelettes in his pockets took off for home. Bill took his time walking home and used the entire pack and rubbed until his face was raw. Bill tried to sneak into the house unobserved. But as fate would have it Helen was in the kitchen making coffee. Bill excused himself and went right to his room to get changed and check his reflection in his mirror. His concern over his rapid transformation from Billie back to Bill proved to be unnecessary as the evening passed without anything unusual happening. I wish Billie could be here again," Helen said as they sat in the living room, but it’s just too dangerous.

"I wish we did not have to worry about Protective Services bothering us, why can’t they just leave us alone" Bill replied.

His heart ached for his mother. He wanted to be able to become Billie for his mother whenever he or she wanted. Having someone tell him that he could not was frustrating. Maybe there was some way to get around the authorities. He made a mental note to discuss the problem with Jill. But he wanted to become more of what Millie had been for his mother, so even without the clothes he tried. He picked up his mother’s copy of Women’s Day Magazine off the coffee table and snuggled up to his mother as he flipped through it. He would occasionally make a comment on one of the adverts and get his mother’s opinion.

Helen did not go to bed at the same time as Bill. After all, tomorrow was a school day.

Once he was upstairs, Bill very quietly let himself into Millie's old bedroom. He had seen a home movie tape in the box where he had found Millie's picture. Maybe he and Jill could use it to help him learn to walk in heels the way Millie had.

@ @ @ @

At school the next day, he and Jill spent their lunch hour talking about Billie and his sister. He could not become Billie at home without running the risk that the city might show up unexpectedly and catch him in a dress or makeup. That would be a disaster for both mother and son.

"When I saw how much it meant to my mom to have my sister back, even a little bit, it really hurt to have those people tell her that she would go to jail if Billie ever made an appearance."

Bill told her about the home movie of Millie. That sparked an idea in Jill’s head. She told Bill to bring the tape the next time he came over.

@@@@

Jill studied the tape like she was preparing for her SAT’s. Once she felt she had Millie’s walk, posture and gestures down pat, she became Billie’s tutor in femininity. She gave him lessons in deportment and makeup. She was a hard taskmistress. Her criticisms were made with affection and a true sense of desire to teach Billie so that his feminine mannerisms would be instinctive. Jill felt like a maestro, orchestrating Billie’s conversion to a duplicate Millie.

Jill amazed herself in how much she got into being in charge. Bill brought up the issue of protective services just dropping in and catching him in girly mode. Jill’s solution was brilliant and suggested to Bill he reserve it for holidays and Sundays. No bureaucrat was going to work on their day off. Bill knew now what he was going to give his mother for her Christmas present. He was going to give her Millie. After that Billie was as compliant as a puppy going through obedience training.

Jill was sure she could have gotten him to do almost anything simply by convincing him it would help his Millie impersonation.

Several times a week the two would review the tape and Jill would drill Billie. One time Bill balked at learning to walk in five inch stilettos. Simply the steel of determination in her voice convinced Bill to do what he was told; even if he broke an ankle. Her tutoring not only in being feminine but more importantly in his sister’s unique mannerisms, like the way she would toss her hair and unconsciously play with her school ring. To be as authentic as possible Bill found his sisters ring in his mother’s jewelry box. It was a little tight getting it over his knuckle but with the aid of soap he could wear it. She had a unique way of smiling that was foreign to Bill. But with a lot of practice he was able to replicate it. Watching the home movie often brought Bill to the verge of tears. Whenever Millie interacted with his mother he could see how happy it made his mother to have a loving daughter. He was determined to give that joy back to his mother. Even at the cost of his male pride. Bill proved to be a good student. He could apply his own makeup and learned to walk in heels in a matter of a week. He wasn’t ready for the runway but he could walk as well as any high school girl. The two even experimented with Bill sounding like his sister. She had a peculiar laugh that Billie eventually was able to reasonably duplicate. That was a lot harder. So, Jill did some research on the net and found places where people advised crossdresser’s on how to sound feminine. Bill had a tendency to go into a falsetto, a habit that Jill finally broke him of.

He became comfortable enough with this new persona, that he was totally relaxed in front of Jill’s mother at their frequent dinners.

School had never been better for Bill. Jill’s threat had its intended purpose. Bill no longer feared for his welfare. The jocks avoid Bill like he had the plague. He was a welcomed member of Jill’s posse. They entire gang hung out together not only at lunch but before and after class. Bill had never been happier. He still did as much of the housework as he could. After school, he would rush to Jill’s house for the special time together. If he didn’t eat dinner at Jill’s house, he would arrive home in time to cook for his mother. While she ate, he would do light housework. He would wear the lacy apron to cook in and while doing his chores as much for his satisfaction as to make his mother happy.

The two did receive an uninvited visit one night around dinner. As Helen answered the door Bill threw his apron in the dishwasher until their guest left.

He would go to Jill’s house whenever he could. Everything was great until Jill brought up the school dance again. She tried every female trick in her book to get Billie to accompany her and her friends to the dance. Bill was terrified of upsetting his girlfriend, he thought going out dressed as a girl to a school function was too risky.

They eventually compromised and Bill agreed he would meet Jill at the dance in full boy mode.
Bill wore his best suit and Jill wore a gorgeous red velvet dress and heels.

Bill asked Jill to dance the moment she walked in. The first few songs were fast, Bill joined Jill and her friends in a lose group on the floor. It was a while before the DJ played a slow number. Jill but her arms around Bill and pulled him into her body. She felt that Bill was aroused and it pleased her. Then with her arms around him she felt something that she shouldn’t on a boy. It was a bra strap. She leaned back and smiled as Bill said “I couldn’t resist. Do you mind?”

Jill responded by playfully snapping the strap. The two were never separated the entire night. The whole gang went out for pizza after the dance. Bill and Jill rode in the back of Kim’s car, necking the entire ride. When they dropped Bill off, he floated into the house truly on cloud nine.

It was only a few days until Christmas, school was out for the holidays and Jill took to coming to Bill’s house preparing for their dress rehearsal. Jill had Billie stocked with all the required cosmetics. Together they had gone through Millie’s cloths and found the outfit she wore in the home movie. A virgin white floor length prom dress. With lots of rhinestones around the collar.

On Christmas Eve Jill gave Bill his present but made him promise to open it when he was alone. It was a flesh colored gaff. She was almost embarrassed to give it to him. But got his promise he would model it for her someday.

After Bill and Helen had a nice meal, they decorated the tree and hung their stockings. Bill had decided not to use his nylons and went with his normal stocking. He had sold his baseball card collection and used the money to buy a bottle of perfume for his mother at Walgreens. He wrapped it with care and lovingly placed it under the tree.

They had a quiet evening together before Bill gave his mother a kiss on her cheek and he went off to bed. It was a bit earlier than he normally turned in and he just explained it to Helen that he wanted to make sure he was asleep before Santa made his appearance. Helen smiled that is exactly what Bill and Millie would say when they were little.

Before getting ready for bed, Bill checked his closet to ensure that the next day's wardrobe was all there. He made sure that the pretty dress he and Jill had smuggled in was hanging properly and without wrinkles. The three-inch heels that matched the dress were on the floor. He checked to make sure he had everything he would need in the sequined mesh beaded antique cocktail clutch Jill had given him for his big day. The lingerie he would be wearing sat on the shelf above the dress. Bill's goal was not to dress in a risqué or slutty manner, but to appear to be the attractive teenager his sister had been.

Before he went to bed, Bill spent half an hour brushing his hair and then tying it back into a ponytail with a series of hair bands. It was a trick that Jill had shared with him. By preparing it the night before, it would be less likely to appear matted or wild come morning.

Nightgowns were a thing of the long past because of the danger of a visit from Child Protective Services and he had to wear his boy pajamas to bed after taking his shower. Bill found it sad and more than a little frustrating that they did not have the same freedom in their home that other people did. All because the authorities believed that he was being forced to dress up like a girl. He could imagine the looks on their faces if they were to show up Christmas morning. The thought made him grin at the same time the possible consequences scared him.

Christmas morning, Bill woke up to the smell of frying bacon, his favorite breakfast. He pulled on his robe and headed to the kitchen. On the way, he noticed the tree lights were on and his stocking was bulging with presents. He walked in on his mother standing over the stove. The smells made his mouth water.

Helen turned from her chores and said, “Merry Christmas dear, pour each of us a glass of orange juice while I finish frying the eggs."

There was already a platter full of bacon and a basket of hot biscuits on the table. Bill poured two glasses of juice and took a seat. Not realizing it, he sat like a girl and crossed his legs. They enjoyed a filling breakfast and then retired to the living room.

Bill sat on the couch and his mother retrieved his stocking and handed it to him. Bill was delighted with his presents, a new baseball, several packs of baseball trading cards along with the obligatory fruit; an apple and orange. There were a few other wrapped presents from distant relatives under the tree, the best one being a hand-held electronic game. At last, it was time for his mother to open his present. She gushed over it like any mother would and told Bill it was a perfect scent.

Bill asked, “Are you sure you like it?”

In response, she squirted herself several times. She asked, "Can you smell it?”

“No, not really.”

That was a mistake. Helen then pointed it at her son and proceeded to squirt him. He tried to flee but his mother chased him around the room pumping away with the flowery liquid. They both collapsed in a giggling fit on the floor.

They turned on the television and sat next to each other and relaxed. Not surprisingly, the movie was a rerun of ‘A Christmas Story’. They were lounging around relaxing when there was a timid knock at the front door. Helen was still in her night clothes so she asked Bill to see who it was.

Bill cautiously opened the door, to his delight it was Jill.

“What are you doing here?”

Jill pushed open the door and engulfed Bill in a loving hug.

“Can’t a girl visit her boyfriend on Christmas morning?”

“Sure, come on in. We have left over biscuits and juice would you like some?”

“I would love something to eat, but would rather have a cup of coffee if you have any.”

“Come on in, I’ll make you some. I'm sure mom would like a cup too.”

Jill sat at the kitchen table while Bill made a pot of coffee, wearing his apron. Bill wasn’t sure what to say, so he remained quiet. Jill finally broke the silence, “I love the perfume you are wearing. What is it?”

Bill was flustered and said, “I’m not wearing perfume!”

Jill gave him a scrunchie face. “Billie, don’t you lie to me. I’ll turn you over my knee. I can smell you from here.”

As Bill was to find out later Jill's threat to spank him was not the empty threat that it sounded like.

“It is a present I got for my mother. She tested it out on me as a joke. Okay?”

Teasing she replied, “It's perfect, I really think that scent becomes you. You should wear it more often.”

Bill was flustered so he said, “If you like it that much I’ll get you some.”

Horrified at the prospect, Jill answered, “No way Jose, each girl has to have her own sent.”

Bill stood his ground and firmly announced, “But it isn’t my scent.”

With a grin on her face, Jill said, “It is now. Tell me the name so I can get you your own bottle.”

Bill felt light headed. Here was the girl he had a crush on teasing him about wearing perfume.

Jill spent the morning with Bill and his mother. When Helen stepped out to change clothes, Jill asked Bill if everything was ready to go. Bill smiled and lifted his shirt to show he was already wearing his lacy camisole. Jill reached over and ran her hand across Bill’s chest teasing his perky nipples when she encountered them.

Around 12:30 a car pulled into the driveway and honked. Jill stood up and said, “That must be my parents. I have to run." Kissing Bill on the lips and hugging Helen, she hurried out the door.

Helen stood and took the empty cups and saucers into the kitchen. Upon her return, she told Billie, “I think we should start getting ready for our tip to your Me Maw’s."

Bill leaped up from the couch and ran up the flight of stairs, yelling, “First dibs on the shower.”

He took a long steamy shower and shaved his legs, arms, pits, and his face. Then slathered moisturizer everywhere he could reach. He opened the door a crack to make sure the coast was clear and he darted into his bedroom. He locked the door and started his transformation.

He slid the pantyhose up his legs, smoothing them out to prevent any creases in the material. The breast forms Jill had ‘borrowed’ from a friend he attached with adhesive, then quickly fastened the bra behind his back to provide additional support for the forms.

Releasing his hair from the bands, he spent several minutes brushing out any kinks that had formed until his blonde locks looked smooth and shiny again. He could not put on his makeup before the dress because to do so would muss it up. The dress he took out of the closet was a rich, sapphire blue. Millie's had been ruby red, but he and Jill had not been able to find a dress to match that color. In the end, Jill had suggested the blue because it would complement his hair so nicely. Besides, they did not want Helen to think they were trying to resurrect Millie, only know that her spirit lived on in her brother.

Before he started on his makeup, Bill draped a towel around his shoulders and in his lap to catch any stray powder. Then it was a matter of applying foundation, fixer, blush, eyeliner, and lipstick. When Bill was done, Millie's very pretty sister was looking Bill in the eye. The last thing to go on were the chandelier earrings, necklace, and Millie's ring.

His mother tried to come in to see what was taking her son so long. She was shocked to find it was locked. Bill had never done that before. “Bill what’s going on. Hurry up we are going to be late.”

“Oh mom, give me a break. Doesn’t a guy deserve some privacy? Go down stairs I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Alright but hurry. You know how I hate being late.”

Bill started to put on his heels but realized his mother would hear their telltale sound. He checked himself one more time, and then slid the draw strings of his clutch purse over his arm. He quietly stepped out of the door holding his shoes in his hand. Helen was standing at the door with her back to him. He crept down the stairs before stopping at the last step to slip on his heels. He quietly took the last step and said in his Millie voice, “I’m ready to go mother.”

Helen spun around and what she saw made her knees go weak. She had to grab the door handle for support. When she didn’t say anything, Bill asked, “Mother are you alright?”

“My lord Millie. I have never been better.” It did not take Helen long to recover and tell herself that it was not her daughter standing before her. “What’s going on?”

“Merry Christmas mom. This is my gift to you. Do you like it?”

She stuttered out, “Billie, you look like a grown woman. You could be Millie’s identical twin. I love it. How?”

“Jill helped me. We have been practicing for weeks. I wanted to surprise you. Can I ask a favor? To honor my sister for today could you call me Millie?”

“Of course, Millie. You about gave me a coronary but I have recovered.

Is that what you want to wear to your grandmother’s?”

“Sure, unless you don’t want me to.”

Helen answered with a smile; she was pleasantly surprised and pleased at how the dress, hairstyle and make-up had transformed her son. It was still Billie but it wasn't difficult to think of him as 'her' for a day. She went and retrieved her perfume bottle and gave Millie a few squirts for good measure saying, "Only the best for my girl! Don’t move a muscle I have to record this."

Helen retrieved her camera and snapped a quick dozen shots and headed for the door.

Bill felt dreamy, he couldn't believe this was happening and as he looked in the hall mirror and inhaled the expensive cologne he felt faint for a moment. He felt his mother steady him and kiss him and smile with deep love in her eyes. He felt so happy.

Helen brought Bill back to reality with a slap on his plump posterior. “Millie, get your beautiful ass in the car. I told you I hate being late.”

Millie sat in the passenger seat, nervously fiddling with the purse in his lap. Unsure of the reception he was going to receive at his Grandmother's house.

He needn’t have worried. Helen opened the door and led the way in, “Mother, Merry Christmas, I have brought a special guest to spend the day with us, come say hello to your newest granddaughter Millie.”

Helen's mother, Mildred, came out from the kitchen and didn’t say a word; she merely threw her hand over her mouth in surprise. Billie was frozen in place until Me Maw rushed past her daughter and engulfed Billie in a loving embrace.

“It is so nice to see you dear. My, but don’t you look lovely. Looking at your outfit, I feel underdressed. I will have to change before us girls sit down for dinner."

Billie was forgetting his manners until he finally asked, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Before you knew it the three ladies were in the kitchen in aprons putting the finishing touches on dinner.

It was a lovely meal and Billie was treated like a lady. He was even allowed to have one glass of wine with dinner.

After everyone had eaten their fill, Millie was clearing the table. There was a knock on the door and Grandma answered it. There was an elderly gentleman in the doorway. She said, “Come in Fred. Girls, this is my neighbor Fred I invited him over for dessert.”

“Mildred, it was so nice of you to invite me over. Holidays can get lonely for an old widower like me.”

“Fred, this is my daughter Helen and that lovely creature standing with her mouth open is my granddaughter, Millie. Come in and have a seat. Millie, would you mind getting Fred a piece of pie? While you do that, I will pour us adults a glass sherry.

Fred sat and ate and drank for the better part of an hour.

After his third class of sherry, he picked up a small framed photograph of a small boy in a baseball uniform. He studied it closely before turning to Millie and asking, “Is this you?

A deadly silence fell over the room. Bill stomach was doing summersaults. He would probably die of shame if this stranger knew he was a boy dressed like a girl.

Mildred had forgotten about the picture. She started to come clean when Billie interrupted her. “Excuse me, Me Maw. Let me explain. Yes sir, that’s me. It was taken a long time ago when I was going through my tomboy stage.”

The other women in the room relaxed as Fred accepted that explanation.

As he got up to leave, he said to Millie, “If you don’t have a boyfriend, I have a grandson about your age. I know he would love to take you out sometime.”

Helen saved the day, sort of, when she said, “Millie isn’t allowed to date yet. When she starts dating boys I’ll give you a call.”

Billie blushed three shades of red. His heart raced, what did her mother mean buy ‘when’?

Fed gave Mildred a kiss on the cheek and left, waving good bye.

After the door was closed and locked, Mildred asked, “Millie, will you please accompany me into my study while your mother finishes cleaning up in here?”

Mildred sat her grandchild down, and held his hands in hers, and knelt at his feet.

“Alright Billie, tell me what’s going on.”

“Me Maw it's simple. Mother has been depressed so much lately that I wanted to do something special to cheer her up. I wanted to give her back her daughter, if only for one day.”

Mildred nodded. “I have noticed how happy your mother has been all evening. What you have done has brought her back to life. You are to be congratulated.”

She stared deeply into Billie’s eyes. “Son, I know you. It is fine that you are doing this for your mother; but there is something else going on here. Now tell this old woman the rest of the story.”

Billie caved and replied, “You’re right, initially this was intended solely for Mom. However, as the charade went on, I realized that it was just as much for me as it was for her. I miss my sister too. When I play her, it brings us closer. Can you understand that?”

Engulfing Billie in her arms, she pulled his head into her chest, “Certainly dear. I know exactly how you feel. You are to be rewarded for what you have done. I want you to know that Millie is welcome in my home anytime she wants.”

Bill stood to leave and was stopped by his grandmother. “Millie, you should know that when you get home there is a present waiting for Billie in the garage. Merry Christmas.”

When Bill and his mother got home, the first place he headed for was the enclosed garage. There, sitting next to the work bench, was a brand-new bike. The fact that it was a girl’s bike only made Bill happier. Every time he rode it would remind him of this very special day. Bill went back into the house and headed up stairs to his bed room. Opening the door, he found a long virgin white silk nightgown on his bed. His mother was standing behind him, “Millie please wear it for me. I don’t want Millie to just go away.”

Bill made a snap decision his heart filled with love, “Mom, would it be alright for Millie to visit every Sunday?”

“Of course dear. I think we both would enjoy that.”

Jill’s mother kept asking Jill what had happened to Billie. With Jill’s insistence, Billie was a frequent dinner guest at the Hawthorn house. The relationship between the two teenagers continued to grow until it blossomed into love.

For the next four years, Sunday dinners were special for everyone. Billie became quite proficient at turning himself into an attractive woman. Jill, as Bill’s special girl, was also invited for Sundays with the Williams. At times, the ladies would go out for Sunday dinners. Millie was accepted as a woman.

This kept up until Bill went away to college. He stopped going home on most Sundays because of his coursework.

Jill was already well into her studies toward a psychology degree when Bill joined her at the university. Helping Bill over the years had super-charged her in such a way that she felt strongly about being a champion for people and helping them along their path to mental health.

@ @ @ @

Would you please hurry up?" Jill's tone was becoming stressed as she waited for her husband to finish in the bathroom.

"I'm almost done," he assured her.

"I'm glad we have that appointment with the real estate agent next week," Jill said from the door of the closet-sized bathroom. "We really need to find a larger house."

"I know, dear. At least with the additional work I'm doing at the newspaper, we will have more money for rent or a house payment."

Jill nodded, even though Bill could not see her at the moment. "That's good too. I want a house with a larger bathroom and more closet space. I keep finding Billie's things mixed in with mine. And we are always fighting to get into the bathroom on the days that Billie comes to visit."

Billie stepped out of the small room to confront his wife. "This is all we could afford at the time." He gave her a light kiss on the lips.

"Be careful!" Jill scolded. "You just spent half an hour getting your makeup the way you want it. Don't mess it up or we'll be here for another half an hour while you fix it."

"You want me to look nice for my mother and grandmother, don't you? I mean, we could always retire Billie and I could just stay Bill all of the time." This was an empty threat and they both knew it. Bill had come to thoroughly enjoy the times when he transformed himself into Billie and he would miss it too much to give it up. For her part, Jill had confessed to him that Billie's presence did something to her and for her that she liked. Their nights after returning from their visit to Bill's mother and grandmother were definitely fun filled. Sometimes too much so.

"Not on your sweet ass!" Jill barked as she stepped back around the bathroom to look her husband in the eye. "Billie is going to continue to be a guest in this house, or else!"

Billie smiled at his wife. They both knew that he was teasing and he definitely did not want to fight Jill on this. He was the same size as his wife and outweighed her by about thirty pounds, but the spanking that she had given him once still made him flinch when he thought about it.

"Yes, dear. We need to add makeup to the shopping list." Billie said.

Jill had gone back to the mirror. Her voice was strained as she was obviously working on eyes. "I swear. You seem to go through makeup faster than any natural woman I know."

Bill shrugged, even though she could not see it. "Beauty has its cost. Besides, it takes a lot to change Bill into Billie and to try to be pretty." His voice was a bit sad as he reflected that Billie was passable as a lady and he would have been happy if he could be pretty. He perked up a bit as he added, "You use my makeup too. That isn't necessarily hygienic you know."

"Oh please," Jill retorted. "You and I have the same germs. The only thing that we do not have in common is that you can't get pregnant."

She stepped out of the bathroom, having spent a fraction of the time getting ready that her husband had. She spread her arms slightly to display herself.

Billie stepped into his wife's arms and returned the light kiss. "You look beautiful." He rubbed her belly and said, "How do you feel?"

"Pretty good. I think that the crackers really do help my stomach settle down. I don't want to embarrass myself at your mother's house."

Billie held up her coat and helped her into it. "You will never have to worry about that at my mom's house," he said. "If we were to split up, they would throw me out and keep you."

Jill returned his smile and allowed him to escort her to the door. Chivalry was not dead, even when it came in a dress.

@ @ @ @

Helen heard a car door slam and she looked out the window to see that the kids had finally arrived.

She looked up over at Mildred and said, "They're here."

Mildred had moved in with her daughter during Bill's third year at college. Bill and Jill had moved in together at school and had eloped shortly after. They were blissfully happy and they began visiting home more frequently after that.

There was a knock at the front door and it opened just as Helen and Mildred came around the corner. Jill stepped gracefully through the door, wearing a stylish blue skirt and crème blouse that showed off her curves and legs to good advantage. She had developed quite a sense of style over the years, even while she had pursued her license as a psychologist. She carried her purse in one hand and a large tote bag full of gaily wrapped presents to be put under the Christmas tree in the next room.

Behind her Billie bumped through the door, carrying his own burden of purse and tote bag. As he came around his wife, Helen smiled as she got a good look at him. He wore an emerald green dress that fell to just below his knees. The sheer hose that he wore showed off his sharply hairless legs that rivaled Jill's. His blonde hair just brushed his shoulders, but it would have been longer except for the waves that gave it a cascading effect.

"Hi Mom. Hi Grandma," he said in his well-practiced Millie voice. He closed the door behind him and stood before his mother and grandmother to give them a good look at this year's wardrobe. When he dressed up with Jill, he was Billie. It had become a tradition that Bill would come to Christmas dinner as Millie. He and Jill worked hard to get dolled up elegantly for these visits, almost as if they were trying to top the previous year's dinner.

It wasn't like Bill and Jill were strangers to their families. They had moved into a house only a few miles away after school and they made it a point to visit his family and hers every other week. Billie was no stranger to Helen and Mildred either as Bill would visit as Billie every other week. Millie’s visits were reserved for holidays and the Sundays. Helen never tired of seeing her son appear as her pseudo daughter. She still missed Millie terribly and it had been almost fifteen years now.

The four of them exchanged hugs and kisses before moving into the family room to unload the presents they had brought along. Helen had already brought in carafes of coffee and hot water for tea. While Mildred waited for her tea to steep properly, Helen asked, "What have you two been up to lately?"

Billie was bursting to let his family in on their news. He was so excited he was sure he piddled his panties. Thank God Sue had insisted he wear a panty liner. He waited until his wife was settled and got them both a cup of herb tea before he answered, "I have some exciting news. I agreed to take over the Lonely-Hearts column at the paper as well as managing the sport section." He smiled at his wife for a moment and continued, "I'll let Jill tell her news."

Jill returned his smile and crossed her leg over her knee. She sat a bit straighter and said, "Now that I have completed my PHD in psychology, I have been accepted as an associate at the clinic. I'll be starting in a few weeks."

"Congratulations, Doctor!" Helen and Mildred chorused.

"Thank you," Jill acknowledged. Her happiness at getting a permanent position almost made her wriggle. "They had been looking for a gender counselor for a while now, but they wanted the right person. I guess the time I spent working with them as part of my degrees showed them that I had what they wanted."

Jill had been specializing in helping patients with gender issues since she had completed her undergraduate degree. It had started as a way to understand Bill and how to help him. It had grown into a desire to help others who might only need to dress in a different manner or who had gender issues.

"That is wonderful to hear. I have a bottle of wine in the refrigerator," Helen said, coming to her feet. "We can have a glass as congratulations and a celebration."

Helen returned from the kitchen with glasses and the promised bottle. As she began pouring out glasses, Jill coughed as if clearing her throat and said, "No wine for me please."

Billie smiled slightly as his heart raced with excitement. His antiperspirant had failed completely and he knew he was about to stain his new gown. There was more news to come and he wanted to blurt out the news. He bit his tongue literally, knowing the consequences at home would be dire if he went against Jill’s will. He had agreed with his wife that he would let her tell it in her own way. That spanking had really hurt!

Jill had always been a leader. Neither had any idea how dominant she was until their second year of marriage. Their first argument had demonstrated that to them both. Bill agreed with Jill's decision the hard way. He was a follower so their personalities meshed. She took charge in everything in and out of the bedroom.

Helen looked up at Jill in surprise. She knew that this was one of her daughter in-law's preferred labels and she had made sure that she had a bottle just for the holiday.

Seeing Helen's hurt look, Jill knew that she needed to explain quickly. "Bill and I agreed that it would be better if I did not have any."

Jill's smile said more than words and Helen caught on quickly. Her eyes practically lit up and said, "You mean?"

Jill nodded vigorously, her face splitting with a big smile. "We knew a couple of weeks ago, but we were waiting to make sure. The doctor thinks that it's going to be twin girls!"

"Won't that cause you some problems with work?" Mildred asked. She knew that a pregnancy could play havoc with a woman's emotions; she had learned that from her own and Helen's pregnancies. Mental health professionals needed to be more level-headed than their patients.

"Yes, at some point it will," Jill answered. "I made sure that the clinic knew almost before I told Bill. I will have to take a leave of absence at some point, but I will stay working as long as I can. Bill wants me to stay home right away so that he can wait on me hand and foot." She reached out to caress his cheek lovingly. "He's a real worrier. I promised him that I would take care of myself.

"What are you going to do for the time that you are out of work?" Mildred asked. A single income family would struggle in today's economy. Who knew if Jill would even go back to work?

Bill looked at Jill, she nodded that she was finished with her news and he began, "Well, there is some more news, maybe good, maybe so-so. You see, I submitted a chapter of a story I have been thinking of to a contest and it won first place. If I can write a complete book that is as good as that chapter, it will get published and we will have some extra income as a result."

“My goodness, how will you find the time?" Mildred said. "Both of you working full time jobs and twins to care for.”

Jill jumped in here, “We are going to do what we can to help Bill make a go of being an author. We've decided that he could work from home and the newspaper agrees. That way he can take care of domestic chores and watch our girls. It’s the perfect solution. Don’t you agree Billie?”

This was all news to Bill, but he could see the logic of the situation. He meekly nodded his concurrence. His heart was racing though. They had talked about the advantages of breast feeding the kids and he would be damned if she expected him to nurse the twins.

This was another surprise to Helen and Mildred. It seemed that the kids were full of news and surprises this Christmas.

"What kind of story is it?" Helen asked.

Now Billie looked embarrassed. "It's a combination sports and romance story about a woman who falls in love with a young baseball player, but written from the viewpoint of the woman."

Helen nodded. She could see where the idea for the story could have come from. "Have you written much yet?"

Mildred couldn’t help it she had to joke, “I take it that the story is autobiographical. Has Millie started liking boys?”

Bill shook his head and responded emphatically, "No, I don’t want anything to do with boys!”

Jill knew it was a sore point with her husband but couldn’t resist teasing him. “Honey, don’t forget your one and only date. His name was Ken, wasn’t it dear?"

She turned to look at Helen and Mildred. "He was Fred’s grandson. Ladies, you should have seen Billie. She was Ken’s prom date. Billie begged to go to my beauty shop for a makeover and, afterwards, we went dress shopping. He wore a gorgeous sequined red maxi dress. Waiting for his date he was as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. Ken even brought his date a corsage. They made a darling couple. I took a roll of pictures.”

Jill took a deep breath to continue with her tale, Bill took the opportunity to jump in and correct the impression Jill was making.

“I wasn’t so much nervous as scared stiff. I only went as a favor to Grandma because she begged me. That entire episode was a nightmare. Ken was really possessive. He told everyone I was his girl. He wouldn’t let me out of his sight. On the ride home, he wouldn’t keep his hands off me. A dozen times he asked for my number. He had me backed up to the door and was trying to lock lips with me at the door. I hate to think what would have happened if Jill hadn’t rescued me. She ran Ken off telling him, 'Get out Billie is spoken for.'”

Bill ignored the dagger looks Jill was shooting his way. “Back to my story, it's actually pretty far along,"

He could not quite meet his mother's eye as he said, "Jill has been helping with the story a bit. You see, Jill and Billie go to the ballpark on Sunday day games."

Before he could continue, Jill broke in and said, "And Millie flirts with a couple of the players on the visiting team! Then I have to run interference for him when they might get too interested!"

Everyone laughed except Bill.

Jill looked at Helen, who was starting a grin at Jill's frustrated tone. "Would you please tell your son to be careful? Millie seems to get more attention than I do!"

“No way, you're a gorgeous woman.”

“True but with his legs and sexy butt he is a man magnet in his pink short shorts.

Bill was getting really uncomfortable in the direction the conversation was going.

At that revelation, Helen and Mildred almost fell off their chairs with laughter. Jill only sounded upset, because her face was split with a broad smile. The only one who was not laughing was Billie and his face was beet red with embarrassment.

All he could say was, "I only wear those shorts because it is so hot in August. It's research for my book. It's how my main character would behave." It just added to the ladies' mirth.

Once Helen could breathe again, she looked at her son who was dressed like her daughter and said, "You are such a flirt."

Jill added, “Mother, you have no idea. When he is parading around in that cute pink baby doll nightie, he drives me wild.”

“Please Jill, that’s too much information.” Helen complained.

Bill wanted the floor to open up and swallow him. What could be worse than your mother and wife discussing your bedroom activities?

"Mother! It's just research!" Billie protested. His face could not have gotten more red, but his voice never left the soprano tones he had developed all those years ago. Anyone just walking into the room would have seen and heard four women talking, well three laughing hysterically and the fourth protesting her complete innocence.

Now Mildred spoke up. "Young man! This is a respectable family. There is no room in your marriage for a five-some”

“Me Maw, what is a five-some?”

“Count them: Millie, your baseball boyfriend, a wife, plus two in the oven. That makes five to me.”

Now Bill laughed.

He tried to shut her up with his reply. “You’re right. Our bed is only a Queen, five would be too crowded and it would cramp my style.”

That took Mildred back. She had no comeback. She was smiling as much as Helen was.

Helen said, "If you and Jill have that going on, we do not want to know about it! There are some things that mothers do not want to hear about from their children!"

Bill was flustered at his Grandmother's earthy comments. He got up and headed for the kitchen, “What’s for dinner? I hope you made plenty, I’m starved and Jill is eating for three.”

They sat down to a dinner of roast chicken and mashed potatoes. It was like there were just four mature ladies having dinner together and chatting sociably. The conversation seemed to focus a great deal possible baby names.

At some point, each of them looked around the table to reflect upon how things had changed so much and how happy they all were. It was the kind of day that you hoped to be able to enjoy many times more over the years.

Life was good. Sunday dinners continued to be ladies only.

Decision Made
By Marina Kelly, Monica Rose

The hotel rep was addressing the crowd now, telling them that their new celebrity would be a guest in the hotel for the rest of her stay and that there would be a public event the next day where she would be presented with a check for her winnings.

While he had the crowd’s attention, Crystal took a few steps back and was able to merge into the mob around her. When a couple people looked at her questioningly, she said quietly that she needed to use the restroom. That got her some understanding smiles and they left her alone. Once she was at the outside edge of the crowd, she put a smile on her face and strode purposefully out of the casino.

She made it back to her hotel, just a little off the main drag. Being Vegas, a town that never closes, George stepped into the attached hotel lounge to have a drink. She was not ready to go back to her dingy room. She needed to sit and think. The sun had just cleared the skyline of hotels and the weather was currently very comfortable, so Crystal made her way through the small lounge and on to the patio area. An area where she could think, drink, and smoke.

Sitting down, she lit up a cigarette and relaxed while she contemplated a very real dilemma. Living as a woman had been her dream ever since she discovered the joys of dressing. She had no desire to be a woman, just to dress as one. Now the universe had provided her with the means to fulfill that dream. But at what cost? George was firmly tethered to his family by love.

Dressing was his drug of choice in life, but his family was his reason for living. The waiter showed up to take her drink order. She really felt like a scotch, but her current attire required that she go with something a little less masculine. In her best Crystal voice she asked, “Could I have a gin and tonic please?”

Checking her wallet, she laughed to herself. For all intents and purposes, she was a potential multimillionaire, yet at the current time, she only had sufficient cash for a single mixed drink. Her credit cards all read George so they were out. She handed the 20 to the waiter and told him to keep the change. As the hours passed, she found herself being engaged in conversations by the occasional passing guest. Her glass magically never ran dry. She thought she could get used to a life as a pretty girl, where things just seemed to appear merely because she was an attractive apparently unattached woman. When some conversations became uncomfortably suggestive, some assuming that she was a working girl, she put a damper on those by taking a gaudy fax diamond ring off her right hand and placing it on her ring finger and waved it in the guy’s face simply explaining she was married and waiting for her husband.

Crystal learned that a pretty woman has a currency that isn’t backed by anything found in Fort Knox. A smile, a hair flip, a laugh at some inane joke, or batting of her eyelashes brought dividends that not only fueled her feminine pride as well as keeping her glass full. Over time, the contents of her glass changed from gin to white wine, as her charming ways become more friendly, she eventually ended up being served champagne.

All good things had to come to an end though. After a quick pit stop in the lady’s room, Crystal decided it was time to return to her room. Sadly, the last few hours had not helped George to clarify his decision. If anything, they had muddied the waters. He loved dressing up as a woman. It wasn’t the destination of looking like Miss America that was so majestic. It was the journey he truly loved. Every intermediate step in his transformation brought incalculable joy.

The longer the process took the better he liked it. He couldn’t explain or rationalize it. He excepted it for what it was worth. He got to the room and was in the shower when his phone went off. Hurrying out, he missed the call only to see it was from his 11-year-old son. He saw that it was actually a text, so he had not missed talking to Mike. “Dad, when are you getting home? What are you bringing us? Kathy says she loves you.”

That did it, Crystal was going to be packed away, probably forever. That thought was depressing, but he would just have to suck it up. He had tried to stop dressing before. It never ended well. The longer he went between girlie outings, the more agitated and depressed he became. He had to fight to control himself from snapping at his children and wife during these periods. He was smart enough to realize his feminine persona was his pressure gauge. She was as much a part of him as was George the husband and father.

He packed his two bags, one for George, one for Crystal. Crystal’s, he tied a pink ribbon to so that he would not get them confused. He shivered and had visions of bringing the wrong one home and having his wife opening it. He spent the rest of the afternoon scrubbing off the remains of Crystal.

He was scheduled to take a redeye flight home. He took a cab to the airport and boarded with time to spare, but he still hurried through the terminal. He buckled in and was asleep before the plane was wheels up. He slept soundly waking only as the plane touched down. As a result, George did not see any newspapers. It might have changed things. He collected his luggage and made the drive to the storage facility first to drop off Crystal’s wardrobe. He stopped at drive through for some black coffee. He drove around for a while, thinking. After having to stop to use the bathroom at a convenience store, he drove home.

He got home mid-morning. Beckie and the kids had gone to see her parents and would be home that evening. He went right to work unpacking. He had the rest of the day off to recuperate from his trip. He sat down at the family computer and completed an after-action review of the conference.

The rest of the family was home for dinner and it was a happy time. George was able to forget about Crystal for a while and his adventure in Vegas. At least for a while. After dinner, he and Beckie put the kids to bed and then enjoyed each other in bed as well. He was at work bright and early the next morning. The first thing he did was to fill out his expense report. The rest of the day was spent trying to catch up on the work in his inbox. It was still a tiring and day and he was exhausted when he got home. Thankfully, it was the weekend, he had two days to relax.

Monday morning arrived way too soon. He was at work went he got an alert on the in-store computer network. There was an investigator from Los Vegas at the store looking for someone of interest. Everyone was to be in the employee lounge at noon, no exceptions. George had a sick feeling, the memory of telling his escort in Vegas about where he worked came back to him. There is no way he could pass a lineup. He called HR and told them he was not feeling well and was taking a sick day.

There had been a short snippet on the evening weekend news about the casino searching for a mystery girl. He hadn’t paid much attention to the news article and he wished now that he had. It seems that he had a false sense of security.

He took his time driving home, not wanting to explain his early arrival.

In the meantime, Beckie was at home making tea for her best friend. Because of the distance to a large grocery store, the families took turns shopping for each other. As Beckie was finishing pouring the hot drinks, June asked casually, “Does your husband have a sister?”

Beckie shrugged, “Why do you ask?”

June tossed a tabloid magazine on the kitchen table and replied, “It’s this mystery girl from Los Vegas. This gossip rag has a picture of the girl, they have dubbed her Miss Crystal McKnockers.

The picture is a little blurred but her face looks enough like George, to be his twin.”

“Thanks June. I’ll look at it later.” June left a short time later to get dinner started for her family and Beckie got busy making a stew for dinner. Once things were cooking away, she was able to relax.

Beckie picked up the magazine and scanned the article. Sure enough, there was a grainy picture of an attractive blonde. She had had the incredible luck to win 25 million dollars on a slot machine in Las Vegas and had then failed to claim the check. The casino was frantic to find her. Knowing how big corporations could think, Beckie was sure that they were more concerned about the negative publicity of not awarding the money than wanting to give the money away.

There was a five-thousand-dollar reward for anyone providing the information that identified her. A private investigator had been assigned to search for her as well.

The girl’s face was recognizable. Putting it all together the familiar face and location of Vegas, there was no doubt in Beckie’s mind just who ‘Miss Knockers’ was. The shock left her limp and she slumped back in the chair. After a few minutes of processing what she had just read, her expression tightened. There was going to be a very serious conversation this evening. At that moment, George came in and hung his keys beside the door before he headed toward the den.

The tone of Beckie’s voice stopped him in his tracks. She said sweetly, “Not so fast buster we need to talk! You got some splaining to do!”

To be Continued

Genesis of a Contented Housewife

Sylvia sat in a hardback folding chair with her face towards the bright sun, enjoying the warm spring afternoon. She was generally at peace with the world as she had just enjoyed a delightful lunch and had had the opportunity to renew her friendship with an old and dear friend. She was feeling mellow, aided by three glasses of a gold medal-winning California Chardonnay.

She found herself musing back about the times she and Mary had enjoyed in college. They were almost inseparable back then, closer than two sisters. She had been Mary’s protector, counselor, even her bodyguard, being a tall athletic woman, a star on the school’s track team as a shot putter. Her hostess for the afternoon approached her table. Politely clearing her throat to get the guest’s attention she asked, in a husky voice. “Excuse me Miss Sylvia. Was everything satisfactory?”

Squinting into the afternoon sun, Sylvia could just distinguish the silhouette of a woman. Shading her eyes with her hand she could make out the woman was dressed in an attractive white short sleeve A-line dress decorated with randomly printed sunflowers. She identified her questioner as the person Mary had introduced her to when she arrived. Astonishingly, it was an old school time acquaintance that she hadn’t recognized immediately. With a smirk on her face, Sylvia sarcastically replied, “No, actually it wasn’t satisfactory.”

Then, with a grin as wide as the Grand Cannon, she went on, “In fact, the meal was scrumptious, the setting lovely. Thank you Alicia, I have had a wonderful time, and you have been a very gracious hostess.”

Ali blushed at the compliment and nodded in appreciation and gave her guest a slight bob, suggestive of a half curtsey.

Sylvia gave her hostess a Cheshire cat grin and related her jubilant feelings, “Reuniting with Mary, my old sorority sister, combined with this scrumptious meal has made it a perfect day.”

Ali then added, “I am so happy to hear that. Any friend of Mary’s will always be welcome in our home.”

“Thank you for your hospitality and inviting me to your lovely home. You have made me feel special, not like an old forgotten friend.

“Forgive me for being direct. You no longer resemble the old Tom I knew. There have been some drastic changes to your appearance since the last time we ran into each other. It seems to me that you have turned into a walking, talking Barbie Doll.”

“Yes, I remember it well. It was at my wedding. I hope my new appearance doesn’t make you uncomfortable.”

Smiling gleefully, Sylvia continued, “No, not at all. It took me a minute to realize that the person who I met at the front door was really Tom, not a woman. I admit it’s a bit of a shock. I was expecting to run into her masculine husband, Tom. Not a man calling himself Alicia and in full makeup and a dress. Silly me, I always thought a dress was a garment worn only by women. Whatever happened to the man that married Mary?”

Ali looked down at his wife’s old roommate. With a great deal of effort, he tried to appear unperturbed at having his masculinity challenged. He managed to keep a sincere smile on his face. “Sylvia, pull in the claws. I can assure you that, under this dress, Tom is still the man he always was. The way a package is decorated, doesn’t change what is under the wrappings. The Tom you knew has just traded his old drab lifestyle for something more colorful.”

Sylvia smiled and commented, “I don’t mean to sound glib. You say colorful, I say flamboyant, but the results are the same. In my eyes, the man I knew has been replaced by a cross-dressed sissy.”

Sylvia then locked eyes with the girly man, determined to get her jibe in before Tom could defend himself. “I guess the question is if are you comfortable looking like you belong on the cover of McCall's rather than GQ?”

After a soft snicker, the reply was, “As Tom, I was never into fashion. To me, formal attire was jeans and a clean t-shirt. As Alicia, fashion has taken a much more dominant place in my life. My lifestyle has changed, for the better. Now I dress to please myself. I am psychologically comfortable, if not physically. Being laced into a corset and wearing heels has its physical challenges.”

“Tom, I can’t understand what the hell you are playacting at. If it truly makes Mary happy, I couldn’t give a shit about your mental welfare, you can come out wearing a tutu and singing Rigoletto for all I care. Despite your claim that there is still a man under the dress. It looks to me that your balls have gone the way of the dodo.”

Tom smiled through the tears of shame as he responded, “Let’s cut through the bullshit. You never approved of me marrying your best friend. The status of my nuts is none of your business. You aren’t concerned about me or my comfort. The bottom line is I am happy and think I make Mary happy.

“For Mary’s sake, let’s try to be civil to each other. Please call me Ali, everyone else does. We were friends a long time ago, I hope we can be again.”

Sylvia calmly answered, “You’re right I never thought Tom was the right for my best friend.”

Tom responded, “Please consider the possibility, that Tom’s replacement, Alicia, is good for Mary.”

Sylvia addressed Tom in a condescending manner. “Hey pansy boy. Call yourself anything and wear whatever you want. It’s no skin off my nose. But let me warn you, I better never hear that you have hurt my Mary.”

“Sylvia, there are very few certainties in this world. I give you my word though. I will dedicate my like to ensure Mary’s happiness. I love her more than anything.”

Sylvia caustically replied, “Whatever you say Alicia.. I’m sure having her husband in a dress is everything Mary dreamed about growing up.”

Not wanting to continue the conversation further, Silvia placed her napkin on the table and stood to leave. Being six feet tall in her stocking feet and wearing heels made Sylvia an imposing presence.

Mary showed up at her side, “You don’t have to run off Sylvia, we haven’t had a chance to catch up. Let me walk you out.”

Sylvia took Mary’s arm and walked with her through the beautiful flower garden, “Okay Mary, I can’t tell you how happy I was to discover you live here. I’m new to the area. I just rented a place that isn’t far away. Unfortunately, my job took me to DC after graduation. That was where I was stuck for the last 13 years and I hated it. When I had a chance to take an assignment back in the Midwest, I jumped at it. Then, when I was talking to our sorority sister Gloria, she told me where you lived and I was doubly delighted. I’m just renting until I can buy some place closer to my job.”

Mary smiled and replied, “I’m happy to see you. When we were in school, we were roommates. I’ve missed you. I remember all those nights we spent sharing confidences. I need your advice and guidance. I’m facing the biggest crisis of my life.”

Sylvia glanced over to where Ali was starting to clean up and snidely commented, “I can see that, he is standing right over there. Where did the name Alicia come from?”

“I have no idea, it just popped out of his mouth. It's feminine and fits a prissy man that wants to dress like a woman. I have not asked him to change it, since it fits him so well.”

“Your Tom isn’t how I remembered him. When you first introduced Alicia, I was clueless at first as to who it was. It is funny how the mind works, you see someone with long hair, wearing makeup, and outfitted in a dress with a womanly figure, the mind tells you it is a female. Unless something seems out of place your mind just assumes it’s a woman. In Ali’s case, it was his voice when he said hello. It forced me to closely scrutinize her face. It took me a minute to realize that it was Tom under all the makeup and feminine finery. My first reaction was to jump up and laugh in his face. When I saw you were serious and this wasn’t a joke, I controlled myself. Forgive me for saying this, I find it amusing that your husband is more presentable as a woman than he ever was as a man.

Mary suppressed a giggle, “That’s no exaggeration. In his feminine state, he is more appealing to look at. Tom never turned heads. Ali, on the other hand, may not be a 10 in the looks department, but she has class and draws attention, like a flower draws bees.

“I admit that I never saw my husband as being the super-macho type. At first, seeing him bedecked in frocks and jewelry, weirded me out. His early efforts at dressing were almost comical. I could only look at Ali and see Tom in a dress. However, as he improved his makeup skills and his feminine deportment and mannerisms, Tom has simply faded into the background. I only see Ali now. When he puts his best foot forward, he can present as a reasonably good-looking woman.

“I never thought I would get accustomed to him being in dresses. After a while it became the norm, now I don’t think anything about it. When he makes an effort to present as a feminine, he can bring out the inner woman. His body is in proportion, being trim where it is expected and full where it is needed. His face is cute too, especially with makeup. Over the months, he has trained his voice so now his speech is light, almost lilting, with a sweet feminine sound to it. It isn’t perfect but it’s headed in the right direction.

“It didn’t happen overnight though. He’s worked hard to get where he is now. As his femininity blossomed, his feminine traits came out. He can cook, clean, and apply makeup as well as any woman I know. I’m quite contented at the flower of womanhood my man has turn out to be. When I look on Ali, I see no sign of Tom, now all I see is a delightful looking woman. If I look hard enough, I can still find Tom behind all the makeup. But why make the effort? I’m comfortable with Ali acting like the lady of the house.”

Sylvia shook her head in disbelief and said, “Huh, what did you say?”

“Don’t give me that, I didn’t mumble. My husband wears dresses and looks good in them and I am fine with it.”

Sylvia was appalled at that and inquired, “You’ve changed. When was the last time we were together? You are not the woman I remember. She was the one that mocked any guy who was the least bit unmanly.”

“I have grown since then. What can I say?”

Sylvia thought back, “We were last together at your wedding to Tom when he looked like a man. As a couple you were a knockout while Tom was just a deceit looking guy. To be honest all of your friends thought Tom married out of his league. Looking at him now, it is evident he was playing in a completely different league, a coed one.”

As the two women reached the spiral staircase leading up to the bedrooms, Sylvia pulled up short and looked around to make sure Tom could not hear. “Forgive me for being blunt. You married a man named Tom but when I arrived, you introduced him dressed as a woman and called him Ali, without an explanation. That blew my mind. If I hadn’t known Tom so well, I never in a million years would have thought that vision of womanhood that greeted me was a man.”

Mary apologized, “You’re right, I should have said something. I forget sometimes, everyone in my circle is familiar with Tom’s situation.

Give me a chance and I’ll explain it to you. His evolution from Tom to Ali is the crux of what I need to talk to you about. At school, you were the one all of us went to with problems. Like when Sue got pregnant, Daisy when she caught her boyfriend cheating, and Liz when she was accused of cheating in class. You were our go to person. I desperately need your advice because my world is about to come crashing down on me.”

Sylvia nodded in recognition, “It must be an interesting story. How in the world did you force a skirt chasing, cigar smoking, beer guzzling macho guy to dress look and act like a stereotypical middle-aged woman? My lord, look at him out there. He looks like he just came from a photo shoot for Redbook magazine. Having your man come out as gay or in transition would be devasting to any woman. I am not sure how I can help. What’s the most surprising to me is that he seems happy playing the role of a sissy hostess. I’m not sure what he is playing at.”

Mary glanced back at where her husband was doing cleanup. “Her mannerisms show nothing of the man she was just a year ago. She has become a beautiful, graceful, lady. Always well dressed in stylish outfits, her hair and makeup always right for the occasion, she has the talent of a chef, the efficiency a CEO could only hope for in his firm and keeps house better than a hotel full of maids. Yes, you’re right he is…. Let me find the right word, he is contented, at playing the part of my *wife*!”

Sylvia about chocked, “What the fuck did you just say?” She immediately tried to back-pedal. “Sorry about that! My comment wasn’t intended to be judgmental it was more an expression of shock.”

“Please let me finish." Mary said curtly. Yes, I did say wife, Tom traded in his man card for an apron. That is what this is all about. But, you have it all wrong, there was no force, blackmail or revenge on my part. This unnatural situation is all Tom’s idea.”

That seemed to baffle Sylvia and confusion showed on her face. She sat with rapt attention.

Mary, decided to explain, “It’s a bit complicated. I admit my marriage is not based on traditional roles. It started that way until a year ago. When it changed, it was at his request not mine. I’ll explain it all to you, let’s go upstairs to my bedroom we can talk in private, it’s off limits to Ali without invitation so we won’t be disturbed.”

Sylvia watched Ali clearing the dishes from the luncheon. With his perfect carriage and short, almost mincing, steps all the while carrying a load of dishes into the kitchen, he could have been a waitress in any restaurant. Then she watched him heading back out to the garden with almost a skip to his step. “Did you pick out that dress for him? It’s adorable, I would love to get one just like it.”

“No. Sorry, I have no idea where it came from. He bought that himself when I told him I would be hosting the Garden Club meeting today. He also selected his accessorizes. In fact, his entire ensemble is all him. He really has exquisite taste for a man.”

Sylvia smiled and added. “I love the daisy earnings he is wearing. When did he get his ears pierced? I remember him in college mocking the guys with pierced ears as being gay.”

“That was almost a year ago. He started out wearing clip-ons. After a long day of wearing clip-ons, he found they were painful. Getting his ears pierced was the only option and he explained that it is much more fashionable and gives him an extensive variety to choose from.”

“That makes sense there is also a lot more variety of pierced ones. In fact, in my opinion his entire outfit is a dream,” confessed Sylvia.

I can understand wanting to be fashionable. But, for heaven’s sake why does he wear stilettos to serve an outdoor event? That is just crazy, it seems to be way over the top.”

“I agree but that is his decision. In my opinion he has some kind of obsession with stilettos, he seems to equate them with femineity. At first, he had a hard time walking like a woman. He found high heels forced him to stride in a feminine manner. Now he wears them all the time.”

Sylvia looking over her shoulder took one last peek at Ali, “Watching him, I’ll admit they do make his legs look fantastic. Personally, I wouldn’t dare wear those on uneven ground. Yet he seems to be fearless and handles them effortlessly.”

They were interrupted by the sound of breaking glass. Turning, they saw that Ali had overloaded a tray and that a wine glass had fallen onto the patio concrete. Placing the tray on a nearby table, Ali squatted like a proper lady and picked up the shards of glass. He stood and straightened out his skirt, drawing attention to how he was dressed. He retrieved the tray and headed in through the patio door.

Mary marveled at his graceful movements and said, “Yes, his bearing comes with practice. He only wears high heels, which accentuates his famine demeaner. Stilettos are his shoes of choice. He wears them every day. I can’t remember ever seeing Ali without them. I don’t believe he owns anything else.”

Sylvia was having a hard time believing what she was hearing, so she questioned, “He doesn’t complain? That would be a nightmare for most woman who grew up in heels.”

“Not hardly! He is proud of the fact he can wear heels all day long without displaying any discomfort. He doesn’t take them off even when we are relaxing watching television. Even after a long day in heels he still walks around the house effortlessly.”

“Well, your husband has a good sense of style. I know a lot of women who could take lessons from him. He fills out that dress nicely. It highlights his new figure. I remember a Tom with love-handles and a bit of a beer gut. Now his midriff would be the envy of a Miss Universe contestant. My lord, I can’t even guess how slim it is.”

“Yes, my Ali is rather proud of his figure. Girlfriend, things are not always as they seem. His curves are not all natural. He has some natural deficiencies. They were addressed through the use of some serious shapewear and silicone padding. It has taken him months of dieting and exercises to get those Kardashian curves. In fact, he can be a bit of a showoff. Everything he owns features nipped-in waists. Without the corset, his waist today is close to 28 inches. I believe his measurements, with the aid of shape wear and some serious padding is 35-25-37. Just between us girls, that is only possible because of a heavily boned corset.”

Sylvia’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “A corset? I haven’t heard of anyone man or woman wearing those anymore.”

“Well, you have now. My Ali wears one all the time except bathing. He even sleeps in one, believing it will help to permanently create a womanlier figure.”

Sylvia looked on with envy, wishing her figure were like his. It just wasn’t natural that a man could have the dimensions of a playmate. She thoughtfully replied, “Okay living in New York, I am very familiar with ‘guys’ who get their jollies off by dressing as girls. In fact, on Friday and Saturday nights in the Village there is one literally working on every street corner. They live by what I called the ‘too much’ philosophy. They use too much makeup and their fashions show too much skin. Their mannerisms are too flamboyant and outrageously campy. The one thing they all had in common was too much on their chests. With supersized tits, it’s as if they were in a competition on which one could have the most outrageous figure. They tend to dress more to impress than to pass as an authentic woman. It seems to me that their view of women is distorted. They think that the bigger the boobs, the more feminine they are. When all it does is make them appear freakishly oversized.

Mary thought back over the last year and replied, “Since my Ali has shown up, I have never observed a single incident of Tom acting foppish. What you described doesn’t define my husband. He obviously has adopted a feminine facade. But what you saw today was the girl I see every day. Say what you want, Ali may be an effeminate man underneath, but externally always conducts himself as a refined and proper lady.”

Sylvia nodded her head in agreement. “I agree, your husband doesn’t fit that mold. From my brief contact with Tom, his disguise has an aura of femininity, not a man hiding under a dress. His makeup if anything is understated. His selection of breast size is also unpretentious. His breasts are a moderate size for any woman, especially one with broad shoulders like he has. He could easily go up one, even two, cup sizes and still be within the bounds of normalcy.

“It’s like he wants to blend in rather than stand out. Granted the tallness of his heels pushes his height to the limits of believability. If I remember right, he is about your height at about five and a half feet tall. That’s not very tall, for a man or a woman, so the added height of the heels makes him look like a tall woman. I do question his motivation on the way he presents himself. It doesn’t fit the stereotype of a cross dresser. Granted it is a small sample size but, watching him today I only saw a prim and proper female.”

Mary beamed at the compliments her friend was lavishing on her husband. She added, “Living with Ali on a day-to-day basis, I would hate to disparage her fashion sense. If I had to put a word on her day-to-day style selection, it would be somber rather than outlandish.”

Sylvia commented, “His outfit today is anything but drab.”

Mary went on, “Don’t get me wrong, when my Ali wants to put on the ritz, she can be exceptionally attractive, maybe not gorgeous, but still glamorous. There is only so much Tom can do with her manly face, but that doesn’t stop her from dressing for the part of a lady.”

Sylvia smiled at that. This was more in line with her preconceived notion of transvestites. “Go on Mary. Now you have my attention. You used the feminine pronoun. That begs the question is he still your husband?”

That question caught Mary off guard she eventually replied. “That is NOT a Yes or No question. If you have the time, come up to my bedroom and we will discuss it.”

Sylvia noticed Ali was still outside clearing tables, “Shouldn’t we help him clen up? He has been on his feet serving for hours.”

“Heavens no, she will take care of that. I haven’t cleared a table or done a dish in almost a year. Not to brag I haven’t done any domestic chores in that time. That is Ali’s sole domain.”

That got a raised eyebrow response from Sylvia. As she followed Mary up the wide spiral staircase to the master bedroom, Sylvia had a million questions swirling around her head. As they entered the bedroom, Sylvia was amazed at how totally feminine the décor was. There was no sign of a man’s touch anywhere. This only deepened her bewilderment.

Mary sat on a settee covered with throw pillows and tossed two on the floor to make room for her friend. She patted the seat next to her.

Sylvia sat and waited for her friend to tell her what the hell was going on.

Mary took a deep breath before trying to explain a relationship that was unexplainable.

“Is Tom my husband? That depends! Are we legally married? Yes. However, if you ask Tom, he’ll more than likely tell you we are married, yet he no longer is acting as my husband. He currently views himself as my wife.”

“Now hold on Mary are you playing with my head?”

“That’s not my intention. Let me start at the beginning.”

@ @ @ @

“Almost exactly a year ago I came home from work. I had just received news that day. I’d been promoted to a supervisory position which brought with it a significant pay raise. To say I was in a good mood was a gross understatement. I was surprised to find Tom home in the kitchen cooking dinner. As I walked in, I told him to stop what he was doing we were going out to dinner. He objected saying, “I am almost done can’t it wait until tomorrow?”

“No, it can’t. I’ve already made reservations. Go put on your best suit.”

“Come on Mary, I just got out of one. You know how much I hate wearing a coat and tie.”

“I don’t give a damn about that. Just do what I asked, if for no other reason than it will make me happy.”

He complied, if reluctantly, and 45 minutes later we were sitting at table in Chez Elle, probably the best and most expensive restaurant for a hundred miles around. Poor Tom was about to have a nervous breakdown after he noticed the prices on the menu. When I ordered a $500 bottle of wine, he turned pale. “Mary we can’t afford this, it’s not in our budget.”

I told him, “Tom don’t worry about that, I have it covered.”

“How? We bought more house than we could afford, because you wanted to live in the snooty neighborhood. We barely had enough money in the checking account to cover last month’s mortgage.”

I took a large sip of the pricey wine, “That is what this celebratory dinner is all about. Today I was promoted to manager for all new construction in our company’s southeastern region. It comes with a huge pay raise commensurate with my new responsibilities. That is just one step below vice president.”

Tom seemed happy if not delirious he merely said, “Congratulations! That’s wonderful!”

“No honey, it’s beyond wonderful, it’s the highlight of my life’s work so far. Working in construction has always been my dream. As a small child when the other girls were playing house with dolls, I was building houses with blocks. Then in high school my friends were taking home economics. The very thought of that made me sick. I was enrolled in Calculus. For my senior elective I took drafting.”

Then with a wicked grin I asked. “What was it you took Tom?”

He meekly replied, “I had all the required courses I needed, so I took an art class. I guess I wasn’t as motivated as you.”

I leaned in close and got into his face, “My point is that my entire life has pointed to this moment in time. I have worked my ass off to get where I’m at today. Now I’m going to be working twice as hard to prove I deserve my promotion. So, you are going to have to pick up the slack around the house.”

His reaction was very muted, “I’m glad you have the recognition you deserve. The money will be nice but I am concerned about the stress on you that all this new work will put on you.”

Sylvia interjected, “That is great. There can’t be many women in supervisory position in the construction industry.”

“Yes, I’m the first in my company. Not everyone under me, particularly some of the older foremen, are not happy about my position, but I can manage those Neanderthals.”

@ @ @ @

“It was about a week later when my world got turned upside down.

I got home an hour later than normal. I asked Tom to make me a drink, I needed to relax. When Tom joined me, unexpectedly he sat across from me rather than next to me. That raised my hackles. He raised his drink and took a large swallow.”

“Which reminds me I should have asked if you want something to drink. I can have Ali bring you something?”

“No, I’m fine. Go on with your story.”

@ @ @ @

“Where was I? Oh yes, I was telling you we were sitting facing each other both bursting with good news. He told me to go first. I knew I would get a pay raise but had no idea how large it was until HR called me in to sign my new employment contract. In addition to my salary, I was eligible for bonuses, I would get a percentage of the profit of every project I bring in under budget.”

“I naturally anticipated a joyous reaction from him. Since we would no longer have money problems. He took the news rather stoically. ‘I guess we won’t have to worry about such mundane things like finances,’ he commented nonchalantly.”

Sylvia was incensed. “That was just his machismo showing through. I bet he was feeling less of a man because of his wife’s success.”

“No, you’re wrong, it was nothing like that!”

“In his mind my news was insignificant to his. He had been contacted by a lawyer that very morning. The solicitor had some bad news for him. Tom had on old Aunt, his only living relative that had just died. Tom was named beneficiary of her estate. To his utter surprise it contained a significant portfolio of stocks and bonds, worth millions of dollars. Tom grieved for all of 15 minutes, before the ramification of what her death meant. He took the afternoon off and brought all the papers to a financial manager. After analyzing the documents, the manager informed Tom, his aunt was a shrewd investor. That without touching the principle the dividends and interest from the estate will produce an annual income well into six figures. Which is three times his current annual salary. That added to my salary would set us up for life.

“Tom knows he is not corporate executive material and has no real future in his company. He hates what he does and has always viewed it as a job, not a career. So, he walked into his boss and quit, effective immediately.”

Sylvia said, “That sounds great, but how does that get him into dresses and high heels?”

“That is the essence of my narrative. Let me get back to what spawned Ali.”

@ @ @ @

“Tom paused there and took a long pull on his drink. He made eye contact with me and pursed his lips. He took a deep breath and started. “Honey, now that we don’t have to worry about money, your salary plus my windfall makes us set for life. Knowing how important your job is to you. Am I right you intend to keep working?”

“You bet your sweet bippy I do!”

“That is what I thought so I have something I want to propose to you. Please don’t say anything until I’m finished.”

Pausing there Mary turned to her friend, “Sylvia let me tell you there were a hundred of possible scenarios going through my head, none of them were positive for me. I was braced for almost anything. I sat up and drained almost half of my drink, steeling myself for what was to come. I nodded to Tom to encourage him to go on. What he proposed to me, was nothing I could ever have imagined.

He waited for me to say something so I promised, “Okay dear. I guarantee to keep my lips sealed.”

Sylvia sat with rapt attention during Mary’s story, nodding her head knowingly to encourage her friend to go on.

“Well, he seemed to be having a hard time looking me in the eyes. Eventually, he articulated his news by saying, ‘Let me start with, this is all about me, it has nothing to do with anything you did or didn’t do. I love you and always will until the day I die. I can’t explain or justify what I am about to ask, I think this will be the best solution for us.’

“He sat there with perspiration running down his face. Fortified by the rest of his drink he went on, ‘Well here it is honey. I quit my job today and don’t want to seek outside employment.’

“I nodded my head showing I had no issues with that. Then things became crazy. I’m talking Twilight Zone bizarre.”

‘Honey I would like to try on a temporary basis to exchange places with you.’

“I was bewildered by his proposal. It must have showed on my face because he went on to explain. ‘I will be the housewife, with all that entails!’

“I was stunned and wasn’t sure I’d heard him right. Despite the absurdity of his request, his sincerity was quite evident. I said the first thing that popped into my head. It was a question.

“If you’re the wife, and this is some role reversal game, where does that leave me? I know the magic has long ago disappeared from our marriage, but this is just ridiculous. If you envision me walking around here smoking a pipe, guzzling beer and watching sports you’re off your rocker. That ain’t happening buster.”

He obviously hadn’t thought through my position in this social experiment. After a few thoughtful minutes he managed to get out, “Mary, you can take any role you feel comfortable with. How about we just try you being the head of the household? With me taking over all the domestic chores, that will free you up to concentrate on your job.”

@ @ @ @

“I tell you Sylvia you could have knocked me over with a feather.”

“I didn’t say anything just sat there with my mouth open, unsure I heard him correctly.

Noticing my silence, he went on trying to elaborate on his ridiculous plan. He was a little calmer and continued.” ‘Please don’t get me wrong. This isn’t some kinky wish to be your maid, your servant, or any kind of slave or even me being a househusband. I will act as your wife out of love, not fear or necessity. I just want to do everything a wife does for her partner, which includes more than being your domestic servant.’

He paused, so I had to ask, “What do you mean by everything? I assume wearing my clothes is part of your dumb ass scheme.”

He almost seemed proud of his answer, ‘Yes, obviously that would be a part of my being the woman of the house.’

I about leapt out of my seat, “I’m not a lesbian as the supposed man of the house. I will never allow you to share my bed while you’re pretending to be a woman!”

A look of disappointment crossed his face, but he quickly recovered and made me a commitment, ‘Alright I can accept that stipulation. Sex is off the table. I’ll never ask or expect us to consummate this marriage with me in the female role.’

“He paused to catch his breath and continued. ‘Aside from the sexual aspect, I will do everything else a wife is expected to do in a household. I will run all your errands, do the meal planning, the shopping, the cooking, ironing, meal cleanup, laundry, house cleaning, and will keep the household accounts. I will treat you with the deference any woman shows her mate and will do anything I can to help and support you to advance your career.’

“Tom if this is a joke I’m not laughing.”

“No dear, I’m deadly serious!”

“I was taken back by the strength of his declaration so I probed to see how firmly he wanted this inverted relationship. “What if I asked you to be a hostess and entertain, my friends or business associates?”

‘I would be happy to do that for you.’

“Just great I can see it now. you show up wearing a dress you found at goodwill and do your own makeup looking like a clown. It all comes out with you looking like some comical impersonation of a woman?”

‘No absolutely not! I would never disrespect women that way. I give you my word if I am to present as a female I will be as believable and respectable as possible. Not some campy drag queen.’

“He smiled and went on. ‘As the hostess I would think that a dress would be the most appropriate attire. I would be honored to serve in that capacity and try my hardest to make you proud of me.’

Sylvia couldn’t keep quiet any longer. “Oh, my goodness, from what I witnessed downstairs you agreed to his proposition.”

“I did eventually. I didn’t say yes right away. I put him off for a couple of days while I thought about it and its ramifications. I still hoped it was some sick joke, that would go away.”

Mary, paused and shifted her position to look Sylvia squarely in the eyes, figuring she could get a better read on her friend’s true reaction to what else she was about to divulge.

“Sylvia, it was the longest two days of my life. Seeking more information on what exactly he was asking. He had said he wanted to do this on a trial basis. We talked about that first off. He started out talking weeks and then months. I tried to scare him off by stipulating, ‘If we were to do this, and turn our worlds upside down it had to be a real test.’ I demanded the trial period be at least a full year. I was sure that would make him reconsider this ludicrous proposal. Can you imagine any normal man agreeing to wear dresses, heels and makeup for a year just to help his wife’s career?”

“No Mary I can’t see any man doing that. The key word there is normal. Your husband needs a good therapist.”

“I’m sure that’s the truth, but that’s a discussion best left for another time. He obviously took my demand seriously. It took him more than two days to make a decision. As you can deduct from what you saw downstairs, he agreed to the extended trial period.”

“At that point I was exasperated. I tried to test Tom’s resolve by putting him in embarrassing situations. I told Tom I would consider his suggestion ‘IF’ he could prove to me, he was serious about this perverse plan.”

Sylvia started to squirm in her seat, “This is sounding juicy. What humiliating things did you have the little fag do?”

“The first thing I required him to do. You won’t believe this. I told him he had to make an appointment with a doctor, and I was specific it had to be with an OB-GYN doctor and request oral contraceptives.”

Sylvia giggled politely. Mary went on with her tale of woe. “Tom was shocked, he questioned my demand, ‘You want me to get birth control pills, for heaven’s sake why?’

“I thought I had him on the ropes I went on, ‘Not only will you procure them, you take one tablet every day for the entire year just like every other woman who wants to avoid pregnancy. I certainly don’t want any wife of mine coming down with an unexpected pregnancy. That would scandalize the entire neighborhood. Just think what it would do to my reputation.”

Sylvia reached out and rested her hand on Mary’s, “I can’t imagine any man going to an OB-GYN for any reason. Can you picture him in the waiting room with all those expecting mothers? I would have loved to be a fly on the wall for that. What did he give as a reason for wanting the pills?”

“I have no idea, I never asked. But son of a bitch, when I got home from work the next night there sitting on the table near the front door was a 28-day pack of birth control pills. And even more shockingly they were resting atop the scrip for 11 refills.”

Sylvia pulled her friend into a hug. “Honey what did you do next? This is really getting thought-provoking. Why did you ever marry Tom anyway?”

“Oh, for the same reason any woman does, I loved him.”

“Loved? Do you still love him?”

Mary had to stop and think about that for a few seconds. “Yes, I guess I do. Not in the same way as before. But in my heart, he still has a special place. Obviously, the past 12 months has changed the way I look at him.”

“Okay what did you do next? asked an inquisitive Sylvia.

“My next challenge required Mr. Macho to swallow his masculine pride in a public venue.

I demanded that he, as TOM go to a nail salon and get a set of salon acrylics nails, with a French tip nail finish. Oh, and to further mortify him I also demanded they be glamor length.”

Sylvia grinned at that. “My lord, nails like that would be difficult to manage.”

“It can’t be that hard, she has worn nothing else ever since.”

Sylvia gasped, “I noticed them today, but assumed they were just for special occasions.”

“No like wearing high heels, the long nails are an everyday thing.”

“So, what was his next challenge?”

“I told him the ladies of the neighborhood were all going shopping on Saturday, if he was going to be my wife, he would have to be the hostess when I had friends over. This would be a good time to introduce my friends to the new girl on the block. He would have to throw a diner party for every woman in the neighborhood and do so openly as the hostess.”

A grinning Sylvia said, “That sounds like it would be the ultimate challenge to his manhood.”

“I thought so, if he wants to play the part of being a woman, I wasn’t going to let him hide in the house for a year. He was going to come all the way out of his closet into the sunshine.”

“So, what happened?”

“You won’t believe this. There were seven of us from the community that went out that morning. We spent the entire day at the mall shopping. I invited them all over for dinner. Shamefully, I gave them a heads up on what to expect when we got to my house. You won’t believe what we found, I lived it and still can’t comprehend what I found.”

Mary paused. “Hang on! I need a drink before I go on, are you sure you wouldn’t like one?”

Sylvia blinked, as if a spell had been broken. “I’ve changed my mind. I could use a stiff drink.”

Mary walked to the top of the stairs and called down, “Ali, would you please bring a couple of margaritas up to my bedroom.”

After hearing Ali acknowledge the request, Mary resumed her seat next to her friend.

Sylvia was a bit bewildered, “Why did you ask Ali and say please? Isn’t Ali your servant?”

“No dear. You have missed the point of our relationship. Ali and I are a couple. In the sense that I treat her with respect just like I would if she was really my wife. I know that sounds strange. What she does for me is out of love, not fear or a sense of subservience. Although she does let me have the last word on all decisions. Not out of some perverse desire to be a sub, more as an extension of how she views her role as my wife.”

There was a light tapping on the bedroom door as Ali called out, “Mary I have your cocktails, I know you didn’t mention it but I added some munchies, nothing fancy, just some cheese and crackers. May I come in?”

“Certainly, thanks, please bring them in.” Ali put the tray down between the two women. She gave them both a genuine smile. “If there is anything else I can do. Please, just ask.”

He turned to leave and stopped at the door, “Miss Sylvia, will you be staying for dinner? It is such a lovely day. I had planned on grilling steaks.”

“No thank you Ali, I have imposed on your hospitality enough for one day.”

Mary munched on a Hors D’oeuvre and took a sip of her sweet drink before getting back to her account of the dinner party.

“As I was saying. All of us walked in the unlocked front door unannounced, “I called out ‘Lucy I’m home.’ I thought it was hilarious, but I guess I was the only one who was a fan of the old I love Lucy TV shows. As we bunched up at the front entrance, we were greeted with a delightful smell of our dinner cooking.

Then there was a call, “I’m in the dining room.” The voice was obviously male, yet surprisingly it had a slight feminine lilt to it. I led us all into our formal dining room.

What I saw took my breath away, I was prepared to find a slightly humiliated caricature of a woman, with grotesquely exaggerated makeup. That is not even close to what we found. I almost went into cardiac arrest over the way Tom looked. I was expecting some caricature of a woman, that was going to embarrass me in front of all my closest friends. Rather than a parody of a woman, we found the quintessential female you would pass in the grocery store. He shocked the hell out of me, looking better than I thought possible. I had to really concentrate to find Tom hiding behind all of those cosmetics. Tom was wearing a dress with a wasp waist and a figure-hugging skirt, with a trendy mock neckline and short cap sleeves. It was knee length and was form-hugging displaying an unquestionable feminine silhouette. He had paired this dress with a classic string of pearls and several sparkly rings that added a glam factor. Then there was his hair and makeup. It looked like he had spent the afternoon in a beauty pallor.

From his body language he knew he wasn’t what we were anticipating, then there was that fucking smug smile on his face. He stood there with a regal presence watching our stunned reactions.

I was totally blown away. He had gone full out and created the ‘WOW’ factor. The table had been set with our best China. The centerpiece was a bouquet of fresh cut flowers. Each individual place setting had a single red rose on it, and so help me there were scented candles placed around the room with soft instrumental music playing lowly in the background.”

Sylvia couldn’t help herself she remarked, “Mary, that sounds more like a romantic dinner for two rather than a dinner party.”

“I know it aside from the formal setting Tom did the last thing I ever expected. He addressed all of my friends. ‘Welcome to our home ladies, let me introduce myself, I am Alicia Marigold. But please call me Ali. All my friends do. I sincerely hope we can all be friends, as I plan on being around for a while. If I can have your drink orders, I’ll serve them in the family room while the roast is finishing.’

Sylvia was dumbfounded at what she was hearing. “Your friends all knew this sham of a women was really your husband. How did they react?”

“To a person we were all taken back. The transformation was dramatic. To the person they all greeted her with Ooh’s and Ah’s . After recovering from their amazement, they welcomed my Tom with smiles and a few gave him hugs and air kisses.

Gloria, who is the matriarch of our little group, was the lone dissenter. She is mega rich, earned her money the old fashion way. Through numerous marriages and divorces. She was standoffish toward Ali and simply asked, “Is that Miss, Misses or Mister?

I was ready to pounce if he embarrassed me.

Sylvie snickered. “How did your girlie husband respond?”

“He said nothing substantial, he looked at me and said, “I’ll defer to Mary for that answer.”

“Whatever did you do, I can’t imagine what you could say.”

“Yes, I was in a quandary, there was no way I was going to claim him as my wife and infer I’m a lesbian – which I’m most certainly not. I had an inspiration and told the ladies, “We’re cohabitants. Let’s leave it at that.”

Then Monica the cul-de-sac slut commented, “In that case I will need to keep my husband away from your cohabiter, he’ll chase anything in a skirt.”

Ali took everyone’s drink order and played bartender. Ali was wearing simple three-inch pumps. Even though they were of a moderate height, it was obvious Ali was a novice in high heels. He wobbled and could only take tinny mincing steps. In his best impersonation of a fashionable woman, he sashayed in and out somehow without turning an ankle. Between keeping everyone’s glass full and checking on the dinner. By the time was the meal was ready, we were all relaxed.

Once the roast was cooked, Ali led us to the table and served dinner. We had a gourmet meal consisting of a Caesar salad followed up by perfectly prepared prime rib accompanied by a great French wine. Then Ali surprised us by bringing out cherries’ jubilee for dessert. She was lauded by everyone with praise for the meal.

During the meal, Ali keep busy providing 5-star service attending to each of us as if we were all royalty. Between her hostess responsibilities she sat and joined in with the general conversation. She was just one of the girls.”

“At the end of the night Ali had earned the respect and comradeship of all of the ladies. To my utter surprise he seemed to have an innate ability to mimic feminine mannerisms. After that over the next several weeks, his wardrobe grew dramatically as he actually started to develop a style.”

Later, after everyone had left and we were alone, he confessed to me he had help with achieving his present look. It seems he had spent hours at the beauty salon. They had to be magicians to turn my husband into a believable looking woman. It was through a masterful use of shading and contouring they were able to hide all signs of Tom. He had started the day with fashionably long manly hair. He had obviously had long blonde extensions added to his tresses. Long hair on a woman is the very essence of femineity. There he stood with his hair styled to resemble Betty Grable with a long bobs and victory rolls and soft curled ends.

He told me that he ‘got the works’. Total body waxing, facial and mud bath. They did his nails first then they put in the hair extensions. Which he had tinted dirty blonde, then washed, curled and permed. Next, he moved to the makeup station where he requested the day’s special which turned out to be a bridal makeover. When they had finished, he left to go dress shopping feeling like a princess. That is how he accomplished such a dramatic transformation, from man to Donna Reed in one day.”

Sylvia asked, “What about today? Did he spend all day at a spa prepping for the garden party?”

“Oh, no, not today. It took him most of the morning to get dressed. But what you see is all his handy work. It took a while and many hours practicing and watching videos but he eventually developed his own style and skills. He traded in his golfclubs for a curling iron. He is addicted to salon visits more for the advice and helpful hints more so than their results. He now spends most Saturday mornings there.”

“It sounds like your Tommy boy really enjoys playing dress up and playacting at being a deferential mate.”

“I think compliant is a better way to describe my hubby, I don’t think he enjoys being ordered around. He responds much better when he is asked.”

@ @ @ @

“He had met every gate I had demanded. I was out of options. Besides his secret of being a crossdresser was out. There is an old axiom, ‘One person knowing a secret it is safe, two people knowing it, then the secret is questionable, three knowing it, makes it common knowledge. Since Tom had been outed, I saw no reason to hide it. I decided to take advantage of his desire to be my devoted house frau.”

Silvia asked, “So, Tom has been the pretty Ali ever since?”

Mary didn’t want to diminish Ali’s accomplishments, but considered truth the best option. “No, the Cinderella-like transformation of Tom into Ali for the dinner party wasn’t due to Tom’s miraculously newfound ability to dress and act like an authentic woman. Nor some magical fairy godmother, rather it had more to do with a Michelangelo type effort of a salon full of professional beauticians, manicurist, cosmetologist and hair stylists. Followed by the help of a sympathetic fashion consultant and a friendly retail assistant. All motivated by a boatload of cash.”

Sylvia, smiled and said, “They say money can’t buy happiness, apparently it can buy beauty.”

Mary chuckled at that comment. Then added “Ali didn’t just materialize overnight. The creation of Ali was more an evolutionary process, of trial and errors. Tom had a lot going for him aside from enthusiasm. He had some genetic advantages most crossdressers don’t have. He was always slim and trim as were most of the men in his family. From his father, who is half native American - Cherokee, I think. He inherited a hairless body and a very light beard, and from his Nordic mother he got his blonde hair and blue eyes.

“Then you combine those advantages to his capacity to take constructive criticism and the willingness to ask for help. It was the perfect circumstances for a male to change into a perceived female.”

Sylvia smiled at what appeared to be a happy ending, “So you conceded to his request?”

“Yes. I had to agree to let him live as a woman or we would have to split up and go our separate ways. I never wanted to be alone. Then there was the issue of Tom’s money, it is hard to walk away from a million dollars. So, we have stayed together.”

Sylvia’s voice had the ring of grief in it. “It is just my opinion but, I think that was a mistake. You can always make money, happiness is harder to come by.”

That comment got a grimace from Mary.

Sylvia sneeringly commented, “Judas Priest Mary! How do you like being the man of the house?”

“Damn you Sylvia Jane! There is no need to be cruel. Let’s say I’m the head of the household.”

Sylvia smiled and said, “Potatoes, po-tah-toes!”

That gave Mary pause.

@ @ @ @

Sylvia took a chance and went on, “I never thought he was right for you. Your normal dates were with more macho types, he was the lone exception.”

Mary nodded. “Yes, at the time, macho is what I thought would make me happy. I found there is more to forming a strong relationship than great sex. At the time I met Tom, I was dating that football player, Billy something. My lord, he knew his way around a woman’s body. If he was half as good on the football field as he was in bed, he would have been an All American. Thinking back on it, he might have been up for consideration for the Heisman trophy.

“We were invited to an after-game victory celebration. Billy left me alone and was off getting drunk. Sometimes you just get lucky. I was in the right place at the right time. That is where I met Tom. He was the school mascot so was included in most team activities. We hit it off right from the start.”

Sylvia thought back to those carefree days and commented, “Oh yes, I remember him. He was the butt of a lot of jokes. He was hilarious bouncing around the field as our schools ferocious Anteater. Why you settled for the guy who was the mild-mannered mascot when you could have had a member of the more manly testosterone filled football team is beyond me.”

“In my defense, he was technically part of the team. Which meant we, as a couple, were included in a lot of the team functions.”

Sylvia scrunched up her forehead. “True, Tom had a shy demeanor and was known as a nice guy just not the manliest one.”

Mary puffed up in defense of her selection of a husband, “You mean like Bill, if I remember right, he got that cheerleader pregnant, he was not a fan of protection. That ended his playing career, as well as his three-year run as the campus Casanova.”

Sylvia couldn’t let it end there. “Mary, your point is well taken, Tom was only a normal run-of-the-mill engineering student. He was never seen without his slide rule, vintage Texas Instruments calculator, and his archetypical pocket protector. He was nothing but an also ran as a man, in my view. He obviously kept the sissy part of his personality hidden. You deserved better than that. You were more a party girl who could out drink any of our sorority sisters. How many times after a night of drinking, did I hold your hair back while you knelt and worshipped the porcelain god? His idea of a big date was to spend Friday night at the library doing Physics problems.”

“You’re right Sylvia, he held me back in school socially, drastically restricting my party time. That wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. In retrospect, I was on the path to having a drinking problem. Tom’s conservative lifestyle pulled me back from that. I’ll admit he probably put a damper on ‘Fun time Mary’. Which hasn’t hurt my professional career. He has been my rudder and helped keep me on the straight and narrow.

“I admit I never saw my husband as being the super-macho type. Over time, I found there is more to the essence of a man than massive muscles. Tom is the best man I have ever known. Like it or not, it takes more than a pair of cojones to achieve manhood. Living as Tom is now, would threaten most men’s masculinity. My Tom is comfortable and secure with his masculinity even when wearing an evening gown. How many ‘men’ do you know that could say the same?”

Sylvia looked at Mary with wide eye confusion. Completely misunderstanding what she was trying to say. She read more into her words than were actually meant.

Mary tried to explain, “I realize seeing a Tom in panties, bra, nylons and a dress is a bit bizarre. Equating the Ali you see to manhood is a stretch. What I see when I look at Ali is the man behind the makeup. Looking into her soul if you will.

“Seeing my man wearing frocks, freaked me out at first. Being completely honest, he does make a nice-looking looking woman - that helped me adjust. I never thought I would get accustomed to him in drag. After a while it became the norm, now I don’t think anything about it. Ali is Tom, Tom is Ali.”

Sylvia could not believe what she was hearing. “Come on Mary. Wake up and smell the coffee. Tom is a freak of nature.”

“Syl, who are we to judge? The emergence of my Alicia Marigold has opened up a whole new world of experiences for me. I decided while he is wrapped up discovering the joys of the feminine mystique, I decided it’s time for me to break out and live a little, which is just what I have done.”

@ @ @ @

“Anyway, after his big announcement I took Tom aside and had a serious talk, hoping to still shock him out of his proposal.”

Sylvia curtly interjected, “In my opinion, what he needed was a five iron upside the head.”

“Hold on girlfriend. Before I resorted to violence, I had other ideas.

“In retrospect, a slap upside the head would have been a better solution. Let me describe what went on. I told my deranged husband, ‘Tom, you said you wanted to be my wife for the next year. You provided a long list of wifely chores you are anxious to do for me. What was the one you left out?’

He replied, ‘I’m sorry honey, you’ve lost me.’

“I acted like I was exasperated so I scolded him. “Come on Tom, put your thinking cap on, what is the main thing a wife does to keep her man happy? Tom had a puzzled look on his face.

I got in his face and announced, ‘Sex you air headed bimbo!’

Tom enthusiastically beamed and asked. ‘You mean you want to have sex with me?’

“I laughed in his face, Tom you wanted to forego your position as my husband in exchange for a chance to be my wife. Are you currently, my wife?”

Tom wasn’t sure how to answer, so he was noncommittal, ‘I guess not yet.’

“I hit him with a fastball, ‘That’s correct old man, you are merely auditioning for the part of a wife. You will have to demonstrate to me you are qualified and capable of fulfilling all the rolls expected of a woman.’

“Sylvia, I had him now, I was sure, as he mumbled, ‘Mary, I’m totally lost. Please just tell me what you want me to do.’

With a smile I declared. ‘I want you to do whatever it takes for a bride to make a husband happy. Emphasizing the word whatever.’

Tom got pale and he was a little unsteady on his feet. He asked me, ‘If I am not allowed to have sex with you. Then how can I do that?’

“I told him. ‘You wait here, I’ll bring your husband to you. I left the room and came back five minutes later, by myself but with my hands behind my back hiding my big surprise. Let me tell you it was big, the largest they had. 9 inches long and with a shaft thickness of 2 inches around and a realistic ball sack that could be filled with any number of substances.

“I brought out my new sex toy, one I had acquired at the adult bookstore out on the interstate. When I was within a few feet of Tom I produced his training aid, a double headed dildo and shoved it out toward my husband. Then I made the formal introduction, ‘Tom, I would like you to meet Long Dong Leo your perspective husband, let’s call him your fiancé.’

“Sylvia, I swear Tom peed his pants as a small wet spot appeared in his crotch. Let me tell you, he turned white as a ghost. I was sure I had finally dispelled him of this ridiculous wife idea. Tom stood there dumfounded.”

“He asked ‘What am I to do with that?’

“Tom, have you ever pleasured a man before?”

He replied somewhat sheepishly, ‘Only myself.’

“Well, in that case you are in for an adventure, you have four days to practice with your fiancé Leo here. Notice it he has two ends. One fits in me the other will be in you. As you move your portion, the part in me will stimulate my female anatomy. On Friday night your challenge will be using Leo to assure I have three orgasms between dinner and bedtime. If you fail, I’m calling off this venture. You’ll have no second chances so you better make the most of this opportunity.’

Tom asked, ‘Please tell me you don’t want to fuck my ass with that monster!’

“I replied, ‘Not hardly, that would require effort on my part. Friday night will be all about my pleasure. I’ll strap Leo on and sit in your favorite recliner, you’ll kneel between my legs and service me’. Is that understood?”

Tom enquired, ‘You want me to get dressed as a woman and symbolically give your rubber manlike figurine a blow job?’

“Absolutely not! Tom is the one auditioning for the position, not some girl want-to-be. I don’t want to hurt your feelings as I still have feelings for you. Let me be truthful. You were never much as a husband. Let's see how you do as a *wife*! It will be an adventure finding out.

“Since it’s your first time, it’s appropriate you dress in white. You will wear a clean white undershirt and jockey shorts. It will be Tom doing the dirty deed and not in drag. If that isn’t acceptable, we can call this whole thing off and go back to the way we were. The decision is yours.”

Sylvia interrupted. “Well don’t keep me in suspense, what happened? Was Tom a good cocksucker?”

@ @ @ @

Mary leaned back and smiled, reliving that Friday night. “Girlfriend, let me tell you. He wasn’t only good, he was superb and enthusiastic. He proved to me he was committed to the process. After dinner that night, I changed into my silk robe strapped on that wonderful faux phallic device and sat in the predetermined chair. I had Tom bring me a scotch and one of his cigars. Tom came in in his male underwear, I had him crawl across the room, stooping between my legs. I stopped him there and told him to return to his room and put on his best aftershave. I wanted to imprint to him it was Tom, a male, doing the dirty deed of sucking cock, not some female. When he returned, I drew back the robe and Leo burst up tall and firm. Tom’s eyes about popped out of his head. I sat there sipping my drink and after lighting my smoke I was puffing away on that stogey. Tom went to work sucking on something different. Mine was tasty tobacco, his was lifelike silicone. After a bit his hesitancy he noticed his efforts were pleasurable to me and his efforts turned to real enthusiasm. He swallowed the entire length and girth of that thing until his nose was tickling my pubs. At first, he was shy and bashful then it was like someone threw a switch his sexual appetite changed from subdued to positively ravenous for my meat. In no time at all, he was deepthroating that monster like a pro. Not once, but over and over again. I watched his head bob up and down like a piston. I have never had a sexual experience like that. It wasn’t just the tactile pleasure but the overwhelming feeling of superiority to witness the submissive position my arrogant macho husband had willingly put himself in. He had propositioned himself as much as any street whore. I could never look at him the same after that.”

“Well tell me, Mary. Did he give you that big ‘O’ you were looking for?”

“Did I have an orgasm? You bet your sweet ass I did. My lord! I had three of the biggest ones of my life and it didn’t take more than a couple of hours for all three. The first one was so strong it was like the fourth of July in my head. Tom was so sweet. you should have seen the expression on his face when he got his oral gift. My toy was rather expensive, but it has a sensor in the part that was in me. When my pussy muscle convulsed it initiated a small pump that delivered my homemade cum into his mouth. After each climax, rather than getting up he remained kneeling there with his hand reverently holding and stoking my faux sex. It was like he was worshipping it.”

“Fake cum? How in the world did you make that?”

“It’s easy, you take several egg whites, stir in a little corn starch, add some yogurt, a pinch of salt. Mix and let it stand. Then, out of vindictiveness, I added a little of my pee for flavor. I am told it is close to the real thing in taste and consistency. Watching Tom struggle to swallow that concoction was a thrill in itself.”

“So, Mary I guess that got Tom what he wanted?”

“No, not yet. I had spent a lot of time thinking about how this was going to affect me. Once he opened this Pandora Box who knows what life would be like. What would my friends think about me? What would they say behind my back? I had worked too hard to establish my reputation to have it destroyed by my sick, perverted husband. If he was going to get his jollies off playing Suzy homemaker, I was sure as hell was going to get something out of it. I guess I was being a supercilious bitch but I didn’t care. I spent several days considering my next move. I developed ten rules he would have to live by. I printed them out and handed them to him one at a time. I waited while he read each sheet. He had to sign each sheet as a sign he agreed to each.

I sat Tom down for a somber talk. I told Tom, ‘Since you are serious about following through with this theatre of the absurd, I will only give my consent if you agree to some ground rules. I am calling them my 10 Commandments.’

“I then casually mentioned. These are nonnegotiable, break any one of them and the deal ends right then and there.”

Sylvia asked, “Just what are these canons of your religion? How desperate of a pussy was he?”

“I’ll let you judge for yourself here are my demands. Here read them for yourself I have copies on my phone.”

Commandment Number 1:

“This thing will be for a full year. There will be no stopping or calling a time out.”

Commandment Number 2:

“You will do all the domestic chores yourself. Housekeeping will be your full-time job. No farming things out. The only exception will be for the yardwork.”

Commandment Number 3:

“At no time during that year will you present as anything but a woman. Under no circumstances will you let anyone see you without full makeup and the other accoutrements of femineity. Without those, we both realize you look like a man in a dress. You will never wear pants. You will always present as a lady, which means nothing but dresses and skirts. Nothing trashy or overtly sexy.

More importantly, if anyone ever questions you about your true gender, you will freely acknowledge you are a genetic male, exploring your feminine side. Absolutely no pantyhose, you will wear only nylons until this experiment is over. If you are going to be a proper young woman, we can’t have you emitting a foul order from down there. Therefore, every morning after your usual toilet. You will use a sweet-smelling douche.

After a woman has her monthly, she needs to ensure she is clean and sweet down there. So, for two days before and three days after your monthly, you will clean yourself out with a fleet’s enema, then follow that up with your douche.”

Commandment Number 4:

“When I get home from work, no matter the time, I will be expecting a hot meal and you meticulously dressed and your makeup refreshed for my homecoming.”

Commandment Number 5:

“Since I will be the head of the household, you will turn over control of all of your financial resources to me. Consider it a dowry, if you will. The only assets you will have at your disposal is what I deem you will need. In turn, I will provide you with an appropriate allowance to run the home and a small sum of money to maintain your feminine appearance. I will expect a full monthly accountability for all your expenditures.”

Sylvia, interrupted, “No way will he give his fortune to you. I am having a hard time believing that.”

“I didn’t say he had to give it to me, the trust is in his name. I only demanded he turn over control of the income to me. I would be the one to decide how the monies are dispersed.”

“Okay, that’s more believable. Sorry I interrupted you. Please go on.”

Commandment Number 6:

“I will never order or tell you to do anything. I will always ask! However, you will acquiesce to my desires, with no arguments or complaints. I promise to never ask you to do anything illegal, but some things you might find distasteful. I expect your compliance in those cases to be cheerful and immediate.

You are not to pleasure yourself for the entire year. I want my wife to have self-control.”

Sylvia gasped, “No way! You can’t tell me your husband has gone an entire year without taking matters into his own hands. If that is what you wanted, there are devices to ensure his celibacy.”

“I’m familiar with them, however I consider them demeaning and inappropriate in a loving relationship. Tom has always been a man of his word. So, I took his word on his self-imposed chastity.”

“Sorry, I know we are friends, Mary. I can’t believe a healthy man can go a year without sexual relief.”

Mary smiled at her friend’s naïveté, she smiled at Sylvia. “That is pretty much the same reaction I got from Tom when we reached this point. I’ll never forget the look on his face. It was not a scowl, but not a smile either. Honey, I am pretty sure it has not been a year between sexual releases. If I remember my sex-ed classes, males who go through long droughts between sex, have these involuntary spontaneous nighttime expulsions. I can’t hold Tom responsible for that. I am not unreasonable.”

Commandment Number 7:

“You will do everything possible to aid my career. Other than your domestic responsibilities, that will be your number one priority.”

Commandment Number 8:

“I will be having regular late night business meetings, there will be no fuss about the frequency or the hours. No comments, or questions, absolutely no mopping or sad faces.”

Sylvia was stunned. “I get the impression that your use of the word meeting is nothing more than a euphemism for sexual liaisons.”

“Why yes and no, the sexual liaisons are there but only intended to aid my business.”

“That doesn’t sound like the woman I lived with. Faithfulness was so important to that person.”

“It still is. I never cheated on Tom. He still has my heart. He voluntarily abandoned me by wanting to forgo being my husband. Our current situation is all his doing. He no longer has any claim on my fidelity. What I do while he is off playing house is none of his business.”

“What about Ali?”

“Ali and I are married in name only, we merely are house mates, cheating on her has no meaning, either legal or moral.”

“Aren’t you concerned one of your liaisons will come back to bite you in the ass?”

“NO! Tom has his rules, I have mine. I make it perfectly clear before I agree to a meeting with a client, there will be no emotional attachments, our meeting is strictly business. There will also be no additional meetings, no matter how well they perform.”

“Men agree to those conditions?”

“Don’t kid yourself. I’m still an attractive woman and am considered by many to be an above average lover. I offer a guy a no attachment night of debauched sex. I have never had a problem finding men willing to join me.”

Commandment Number 9:

“There will be no intimacies between us. Sex is obviously off the table. Categorically no external shows of affection. That includes, holding hands, hugs and of course kisses, even girly air kisses.”

“The last on the list was Commandment Number 10:

“Being a woman is more than looking and smelling nice, there are major negatives we have to live with. Your first inconvenience will be your monthly visit from Aunt Flow.”

I know we can’t replicate that. But in recognition of what we women go through, you will symbolically participate. To simply things your simulated menses will be the first five days of every month. For five consecutive days you will wear a sanitary pad. Since a woman’s flow isn’t always even or predictable two days out of those five, you will also wear a tampon. Which of those days you require the added protection I will leave up to your discretion?

Another aggravation about being a woman is the constant concern about fat shaming. Woman world around seem to be fixated on their physical appearance which translates into concerns about their weight. So, my wife will also be too. I am not unreasonable, but obviously Tom needs to slim down, so you can drop a couple dress sizes. Go take a shower and weigh yourself. Then report back to me with your weight. I will determine the ideal weight for a woman of your age and height. On the 15th of each month, your goal will be a loss of 4 pounds a month, for the first six months. After 6 months your goal will be a loss of 3 pounds a month.

One of the most irritating things about being a woman is having to shave her legs and underarms, so that will be a requirement of you also, you are to have no body hair anywhere below your eyes.”

“I am sorry I am still trying to get my head around all this. Are you telling me Tom agreed to all of your outrageous conditions?”

“Obviously he did you saw him for yourself. He is a man or should I say a person of his word. I trust him to do as he promised.

“My poor Tom read my rules his eyes widened at the horrific reality of what I was asking of him. He turned white after reading them. I thought he was ready to back out. I didn’t give him the chance to agree or disagree. I told him to sleep on it and we would talk tomorrow over dinner. It took him that full day to recover and finally consented to my conditions.”

“Mary, you have a long list of dos and don’ts what happens if your Ali deviates from those? How do you punish him?”

“Punish? Ali isn’t a pet that needs to be disciplined. If it is a minor indiscretion, I merely let Ali know I am disappointed. If it is a major, say a mortal sin the deal is off and Ali goes away forever.”

“That was enough to keep him in line?”

“More than enough. The first time he got out of line, he failed his weight loss by a pound we both knew he screwed up. I never said a thing. I think my apparent indifference was torment enough to punish him. If that wasn’t enough, the next times she failed weigh in brought harsh scolding from me. those few words from me brought a torment of tears from Ali, she completely broke down emotionally. It was so bad. I felt terrible and ended up running out and buying her roses. It is funny how life woks, Ali screws up and I end up apologizing. But it works for us I’m happy and Ali is contented in her role as a homemaker.

Sylvia was dumbfounded at what she had just heard. “Mary, Tom agreeing to do all you demanded of him, is surly the first sign of the Apocalypse. How can he call himself a man and agree to subject himself to such indignities?”

Mary merely shrugged and responded, “It is what it is.”

After all the hoops I had him jump through, I was obliged to give him my stamp of approval. I guess you can say my future would be determined by how this reverse marriage works out.”

“So, did you make a major production out of formally agreeing to his proposal?

“No, actually it was rather low key. I could see the trepidation on his face. His eyes pleaded with me. He shyly, awkwardly like a teenager girl asking her parents for birth control pills for the first time, he quietly almost in a whisper asked, ‘Well do you approve?’ I simply nodded yes.”

@ @ @ @

“Sylvia let me tell you the last few months have been one for the record books, dare I say even Ripley's Believe It or Not. I would venture a woman has never had a year like this one.”

“Can I ask you to tell me about it?”

“Sure, thing Sylvia. Wait here.”

Mary walked to the head of the stairs, where she yelled down. “Ali, could you please set another place for dinner. Sylvia is staying over. Also, if it isn’t too much trouble would you change the sheets in your room and lay out clean towels. She will be sleeping in your bed. If you don’t mind you can sleep on the couch.”

From the bottom of the stairs, came the reply, “Of course, dear. That will be no trouble at all. I’ll get what I need out of my room then it is all Sylvia’s. Dinner will be in about an hour. I’ll call you when it’s ready. Would you like to select the wine or shall I decide?”

“Ali, you have exquisite taste, go to the wine cellar and pick out something appropriate for a celebration.”

@ @ @ @

“Oh, Mary, you must be miserable. The past year must have been hell with your husband coming out of the closet as a gay Drag Queen.”

“Hold on, Sylvia don’t go putting words in my mouth. You have seen Ali, that is no Drag Queen. If anything, her makeup and ensembles are always understated and tasteful.

“As to her sexual orientation, that is an issue that has yet to be determined. Let me tell you about my year. I think you will be surprised. Let me describe my typical day. I wake up, do my thing in the bathroom, get dressed and put on my makeup and head downstairs for my breakfast.”

“Wait a minute, you don’t have Ali serve you in bed?”

“Absolutely not. Ali is not my servant and most assuredly not my maid. I do admit she has done the breakfast in bed a few times, but only on special occasions like Christmas and my birthday.

“On normal days I find Ali fully dressed, makeup and her hair stylishly done in a nice outfit, wearing an apron waiting for my arrival. She even sleeps in curlers so she will never have to keep me waiting. My Ali has become quite the little Betty Crocker. She has developed into a first-class chef. That alone probably saved our marriage. I can’t cook for diddly squat. Before all this started every meal, whenever it was my turn to prepared it, was a crap shoot. It was only a matter of time before I poisoned us both.

“Ali can prepare anything I desire. Aside from the usual eggs and toast, she has served me everything from classic Eggs Benedict to western omelets, on a few minutes notice. I tell you she is a wiz in the kitchen. It wasn’t always like that. She has worked hard to develop those culinary skills. She has spent a small fortune buying every cookbook available. She also tapes all the cooking shows that come on TV. She has proven to be a quick learner. The way she cooks it has been a challenge keeping my weight in check.

“After my breakfast is ready, she serves me in the kitchen, we sit and eat together. Her diet only allows her to have dry toast, and a piece of fruit. I have coffee, while she has tea. One of her idiosyncrasies, she decided coffee is too vulgar, a real lady only drinks tea.

“She sees me off to work with a cheery goodbye and hands me a travel mug of coffee for my commute. It is an idyllic way to start my day. It only gets better after that. As soon as I leave, Ali puts her hair up to get it out of the way. She dons an apron to clean the house and do everything else a full-time maid would do – just without the title. She is a neat freak and a perfectionist. She even irons the towels and napkins. The house could pass a white glove inspection every day. Let me tell you the joy I feel coming home every day to a loving spouse, a hot homecooked meal, and a clean house.

“No matter how late I get home I find Ali waiting for me at the front door, with a cocktail in her hand. I sit in the comfy recliner and Ali brings me the paper. While I enjoy my drink and read the paper, Ali runs a hot bath for me. As I soak, she hurries to the kitchen to finish preparing our evening meal. Every night we have fresh homemade bread Ali has made from scratch. When dinner is done, she pops a fluffy bath towel in the dryer to warm it up. She knocks on the door and places the towel on the counter.”

“Wait a minute Mary, why doesn’t he just bring it in to you?”

“In accordance with our no intimacy clause, seeing me naked is not allowed, she maintains proper social distancing. After dinner we will sit and watch TV, where Ali most nights rubs my feet. When it is time for bed, she turns down my sheets. We say good night and head to separate bedrooms. To start our days all over.”

@ @ @ @

“Sleeping in separate rooms, it must be hard going a year without male companionship?”

“Don’t be silly, I have known more men in the last year than the average woman does. I use that word in the biblical sense.”

“How’s that possible? Doesn’t your company frown on you getting involved with customers?”

“They don’t ask, I don’t tell. It’s a win-win situation. I am very good at what I do, mostly because of those late-night business meetings. You can’t imagine how demanding and stressful my job is. I not only have to worry about the actual construction but am also tasked with negotiating contracts that are favorable to the company and getting signatures on them. The discussions start in the boardroom, but in most cases end up in the bedroom. My company has never questioned how I get contracts signed.

“Those meetings are a required part of my job. My success is a result of my own special negotiating skills that help ensure I can accomplish my job and further my career.”

Then, with a huge grin, Mary went on, “They also simultaneously serve as a way to relieve my stress, if I get a little something out of it so what. You can’t believe the rush of endorphins I get after signing a contract preceded by a good romp in the hay.”

“How often do you have these business meetings?”

“I don’t know about two or three times a month, mostly on Saturday nights. My company thinks I am the most dedicated employee they have working on weekends. Saturday has become my normal date night. My usual meeting is over by two or three AM, by that time I am usually negotiated out. Of course, there is the occasional negotiation that is harder than most and, in those incidents, it has taken all night to come to a mutually satisfactory solution.”

"Hmmmpf," Sylvia retorted, sharply. “That doesn’t sound like the woman I knew. The old Mary was a very strict moralist, no saint for sure. But fidelity was always a keystone of your moral beliefs.”

“I admit, I wrestled with that issue initially. I eventually rationalized my concerns away. I have come to look at this year as my Rumspringa. Do you know what that is?”

“Yes, Rumspringa is the term for Amish teenagers' period of experimentation and freedom from religious rules, when they are able to live on their own, drive cars, drink, and experiment with other aspects of mainstream American culture without worrying about their consequences.”

“Yes, exactly this is a year where I am not bound by any moral or societal rules.”

Sylvia could only shake her head in exasperation. “Does your husband know about your special negotiation tactics.”

“I’ve never flaunted my promiscuity in his face. I make every effort to keep my infidelities on the downlow. Ali hand washes all my delicate lingerie, only someone who is numb between the ears would not know what those stains are. Tom may be a lot of things, but dumb isn’t one of them. So, I assume he at least suspects.”

“Wait a minute are you telling me he is happy with his wife galivanting all over town doing Mary Magdalene impersonations.”

“I don’t know what Tom’s emotional state is concerning my activities. He never brought it up and I certainly wasn’t going to. From my experience, Ali appears to take it all in stride. She has never thrown any repercussions or emotional outbursts. Whenever I attend one of my meetings, no matter how late it was when I got home and I pass Ali’s room, I could see under the door her light was on. She always sat up waiting on me.”

“I’m sorry Mary, I have never heard of a man that can just sit idly by and swallow the indignity of his wife bedding other men.”

@ @ @ @

“I admit a couple of times my conduct got a raise out of Mister Stoic. This is a little embarrassing and a bit humbling.

“It started on Thanksgiving. My company threw a large banquet for all our employees for the holiday. There was this new foreman, a man’s man. Six feet six of all muscle and a ruggedly handsome face. He had been with us for a couple months, I made it as evident as I could that even though I am married I was available for a no attachment hook up. I was either too subtle or he wasn’t interested. I decide to find out which.

“I had a little too much to drink and decided to stop being abstruse. I intended to let him know my intentions. I wanted to test out the old adage of men with large hands. In hindsight, I was too obvious. I did everything I could. I even threw myself at him, pretending to trip and ending up in his lap with my arms around his neck. I might have been a little too obvious.

“Ali was there with the other women, holding court in the kitchen. I wasn’t as judicious as I should have been. I later heard about my conduct from my boss. Ali never said anything directly to me or about my failed seduction. Her displeasure surfaced later to my distress.

“A few weeks before Christmas we were invited to a holiday party. It was a major affair that had a band and gift exchange.

“We arrived separately, Ali and several other ladies came directly from the beauty parlor. Ali had managed to conceal all signs of Tom under an abundance of makeup. His skills with cosmetics had drastically improved over the months. That bitch Ali showed up in a scandalous evening gown. It was a sleeveless silver mesh bodycon dress that had a hugging bodice. The dress accentuated her silicon imitation bosom. The dress had bungee spaghetti straps that lead to an open back with scoop neckline that showed just a hint of her lacy bra. The overall effect was a curve-hugging silhouette. Incredibly, the first impression I had of her that night was that of a sausage, squeezed in the middle while everything else was popping out the top and bottom. The mesh fabric was adorned with shimmering sequins in a gorgeous, detailed pattern. She completed her attention-grabbing ensemble with long rhinestone fringe earrings and 5-inch heels. She used her C cup forms but put them in a padded pushup bra, that moved her breasts up the boob scale into the D range. As you know, I have always been sensitive about my modest B cup size. I think she did it just to spite me.”

Smiling Sylvia asked, “I’m curious, how did you handle that?”

“The last thing I wanted to do was make a scene. I gave her the evil eye and she got my meaning. It didn’t stop her from flaunting her fake tits all night, culminating by her sitting on Santa’s lap, kind of rubbing my nose in it. Looking into her face, the smug impression I thought back to Latin class and the expression veni, vidi, vici came to mind. Son of bitch, she came and conquered me at my own game.”

“It was a long evening for me. Despite the fact everyone present knew she was really a he. Even under close scrutiny, he came out looking and acting like a woman, people saw what they wanted to see. That night, he had an aura of femininity about him that was tangible. He went from being a meek looking librarian housewife to being a femme fatale in one evening. She showed that when she had a mind to, it she could turn on the charm. Her dance card was full all night long, even the slow romantic ones. Between songs, she was like a queen bee with a bevy of men buzzing around her.

“I lost sight of her for about 20 minutes around midnight. I finally found her heading for the lady’s room, looking prim and proper, except her lipstick was smeared. When I asked her where she had been, she simply told me she had stepped out for a smoke. That would be reasonable except Ali doesn’t smoke.”

“Are you telling me your husband skirted the sexual frontier?”

“I’m not sure if her conduct was done looking for carnal thrills or just a little male ego giving me the middle finger.”

Sylvia couldn’t help but snicker. “Forgive me for saying so Mary, it sounds to me like you were hoist on your own petard.”

Mary didn’t appreciate the snide remark. Even if it was an accurate observation.

@ @ @ @

“You may be right Syl, his small success must have bolstered his masculine confidence. His male pride raised its ugly head a short time later. It surfaced after one of my business meeting didn’t adjourn until after dawn. It was the first time one of my meetings had gone overnight. Looking back on it, I am sure it must have gotten under his skin.

“Because the next Friday night, we were invited to a birthday party for one of the ladies in our group. I had something come up last minute at work so I called and told Ali I would meet her there.

“Being fashionably late, I arrived 15 minutes after the other guests. A butler let me in the front door, from the entryway I looked over the room searching for my partner. I couldn’t find Ali anywhere. I spied the birthday girl off in a corner. I headed in her direction. I had just reached the middle of the hall when there was a loud knocking. The butler swung open the door to admit the next guest. All eyes turned to the see who was there. To everyone’s amazement there stood my Ali framed in the doorway in a pose she had obviously practiced maximizing her curves. My knees started to buckle. She stood with one hand situated on the doorjamb next to her ear, the other on her femininely cocked hip. Damn if she didn’t look good! Hell, she looked sensational! Her makeup made her look sultry on the verge of slutty. Her cosmetic skills were again evident as there was no sign of a man anywhere. She had done her makeup with an extra flair, classic dark red lips that matched her nails, with loads of lip gloss that made her lips shinny and kissable. On her eyes, she used a soft blue color with a copper highlight. Her eyeliner was a deep black winged and the that gave her the wide-eyed look. It was obvious she had used an excessive amount of mascara to make her eyes soft and sexy. Soft pink blusher was spread on her cheeks. I had always thought I was good at doing my own makeup, but Ali is over the top amazing.

“She definitely looked 'hot'. It looked like she had added a fall to her hair. Her head was a mass of long flowing curls that went down her back reaching her shoulder blades, cascading over her shoulders so it resembled a blonde cape. There she was, precariously perched on a pair of what I call ‘hooker heels’ 5-inch stilettos. She was liberal with her perfume, as her aroma preceded her into the room. Standing there, she had a smile that would melt the polar ice cap. For jewelry, she was wearing a rhinestone diamond necklace, bracelet and earrings, so with every move she glittered in the light.”

“She made her presence known by taking one step inside and called out in a sexy contralto voice. ‘Ta Da, Alicia is here, let the fun commence!’

“Let me tell you, I almost shit my panties. There was my Ali, she has a real thing for the glamorous women and styles of the 50’s. Now here she was decked out like a sexy diva reminiscent of a 1950’s Hollywood movie wanton seductress. I couldn’t help myself I let out an unintended squeal. While in the background demure giggles could be heard around the room from the other ladies.

“I wasn’t the only one surprised. Everybody was stunned with her staged entrance. It was the first time anyone had ever seen Ali dress to impress. Let me tell you, she did impress, she turned heads. It was like the oxygen had been sucked out of the room. Instead of her usual look, she went all out to look like a stunning starlet. No one moved nor said a word. It was the first time anyone had ever seen my girl looking like that, let’s call a spade a spade, she was tarted up and would have been right at place on some street corner. It seemed to me she had come out ready to play. Her ensemble and attitude were so out of character it was as if Ali was a different person. It was dress down Friday at work I had come straight from there, seeing how Ali was dressed I felt positively Victorian in my stylish business suit.

“Seeing the range of expressions cross my friends bemused faces I chuckled and thought it was going to be an interesting evening.”

“Go on Mary, tell me more, this sounds fascinating. I’m curious how that timid mousy thing I saw downstairs could transform into something that could shock you. Surly you had seen Ali in all forms of dress, even formal wear.”

“I have seen a lot. Nothing prepared me for what showed up that night. Previously she had never shown any inclination to dress suggestively. I glanced around the room and noticed a lot of bewildered expressions. The ‘witch’ was wearing a red spandex dress that looked like it had been shrink-wrapped on her. It was so tight from across the room I could see her garter tabs. She had done her makeup with an extra flair, with winged eyeliner, thickly mascaraed false lashes, perfectly arched brows and classic red lips. There was a certain je ne sais quoi about her that night she definitely looked all woman. She was precariously perched on a pair of outrageous hooker heels. They were strappy platform shoes. They had an open square toe, thin ankle and toe straps, and shockingly tall 6’’ stiletto heels. That served to highlight her long legs encased in her trademark fishnet stockings that screamed fashion model to my eyes. She was one dyn-o-mite looking female and she knew it.

“If that wasn’t bad enough, she came in flaunting her boobies.”

@ @ @ @

Sylvia interrupted, “Don’t tell me, let me guess. The padded bra one more time.”

“I only wished. No not this time! She scandalously didn’t even wear a brassiere. I later found out she had glued her forms on for the evening. The dress strained to contain her ample free-swinging bosom.

“I had never closely examined her forms. They had to be the most realistic ones available. The form’s nipple and even the areolas were noticeable. The nipples were so conspicuous they thrust out like twin towers. When she walked under the overhead chandelier, so help me god - those puppies cast a shadow.

I wondered if she could hear my heart as it pounded in my chest. She was every man’s wet dream come to life! I watched as Ali looked silently at our hostess with an ease that bespoke a relationship that had developed over a number of weeks. Ali took a few steps into the room. Her feminine preparation taught her to arch her back thrusting out her chest in front and her ass in back. When she walked, she swayed her hips in an exaggerated motion. When she strolled through the room with its Italian marble floors there was the classic staccato beat of a woman in high heels. She sauntered toward Dorothy with her breasts swaying one way and her ass another. Her walk had a confident strut to it. Every eye in the room was fixed on her. Her hips pumping from side to side seductively, her breasts bouncing wildly. Ali and Dorothy met right in front of me. They gently came together and as they hugged their lips touched the others cheek. Then she sought out Dorothy’s husband and greeted him in a similar manner with a hug and a cheek kiss.

“Once I got my heart rate back to fewer than two hundred beats a minute and was able to talk, I greeted our host properly offering her an apology for my partner’s theatrical entrance. She merely poo poo'ed me saying, “It was no matter.”

“I sought out Ali to have a word with her concerning her shameful dress and conduct and the fact she was embarrassing me. As I neared her, I was overwhelmed by her perfume. She had overdone the perfume. It was like I had stepped into a flower garden. I confronted her. “Alicia what the fuck are you doing? Have you any idea how your conduct reflects on me?

“She forced a cheeky grin before answering. ‘What don’t you like my dress and my flirting? I am doing nothing you haven’t done a dozen times to me.’ Lord I was pissed.”

“Her reply was as honest as it was painful. There was nothing I could say. She won that round.

“The rest of the evening, I could only watch as Ali worked the room and flited outrageously with everyone regardless of gender or marital status. Her specialty was strutting up to a man stopping only when she was inside his personal space. Arch her back propelling her tits like they were a gift. Feigning timid shyness all the while coquettishly fluttering her long thick false lashes all the while blushing profusely. I was torn between laughing at her outlandish conduct, and fearful some guy would take her actions seriously and attack her right there among the crowded room. Every man in the room knew her true sex, yet I am sure many went home that night and beat off to images of my husband.”

@ @ @ @

Sylvia was incredulous at what she was hearing. “Excuse me, he doesn’t sound human. That boy needs professional help. Does he just spend his days cleaning the house and waiting for your return?”

“Sylvia, don’t be so judgmental. Ali has an active and full social life. The neighborhood ladies have taken Ali under their wings and treat her like she is their baby sister. They have been a big influence on Ali, tutoring her in everything from hair, makeup, fashions and even how to handle unwanted sexual advances.

“Ali plays bridge with the ladies twice a month. She often goes out to lunch and shopping with her girlfriends. Tom never had any real friends on his own. We had friends, but they were more mine than his. Now Ali is the one with full address book. Ali has been accepted with open arms into the neighborhood clique. It can be a bit cutthroat on our street. The ladies all know Ali is really my husband and he is rich. Ergo, he is no threat to take their husbands.

“Add to that the way Ali has ingratiated herself with the ladies. She is the first to volunteer anytime anyone needs help. When a neighbor is hosting a get together, my Ali shows up early to help clean and set up. When there is a large gathering, she has even shown up uninvited the next morning to help with clean up.”

“Mary, your Ali sounds too good to be true.”

“That may be true, but her status has meant we also socialize as a couple with the neighbors. We are invited to every party, whether it be a backyard barbecue or a formal celebration. As you have probably noticed, this is an upscale neighborhood filled with some of the state’s most effluent residents, the ill-reputed ‘one percenters.’ Needless to say, our soirées tend to be formal black-tie events. All the ladies wear beautiful gowns as it gives them an opportunity to show off their fancy frocks and jewelry. Even our back yard barbecues are not casual affairs. The women wear dresses and the men in golf shirts and slacks.”

“Does Ali participate in these formal gatherings? That doesn’t seem to fit in with her austere housewife persona.”

“Oh yes most assuredly. She joins the other ladies the morning before all formal functions at the beauty parlor and pulls out all the stops. She cleans up really well. It may be a bit of a cliché but any woman with the right makeup and gown, can be glamorous. My Ali is no exception. She can compete with any of the genetic women in the splendor department. Ali may not be a beautiful woman, but she is not unattractive by any means.”

Sylvia thought that over before asking the obvious question. “Don’t you worry about your husband straying off the reservation?”

Mary fought hard to keep from laughing at that absurd idea. Ali is a man, under all his feminine camouflage. All the women know that, but they also know Ali is my husband and is devoted to me. There is sort of an unwritten rule in our homeowner’s association bylaws. It says there is a no poaching allowed among us ladies. They view him as one of us girls. He has even been invited back into changing rooms when the ladies are out shopping. Ali is looked upon as the neighborhood’s token vestal virgin.”

Sylvia thought that over then asked, “What about the husbands?”

“If one tried, he would be ostracized by everyone in the community. Then his wife would have her husband’s balls surgically removed and mounted above the mantel. They are protective of their baby sister.”

Sylvia grimaced at the visual image that produced.

“Okay, let’s say that’s true, there are a lot of other men out there looking for a good time.”

@ @ @ @

“Funny you should mention that. There was this one time I suspected Ali of stepping out on me.”

“Okay Mary tell me about that.”

“Well, it started on a Saturday night I was on my way to a meeting, I had gone only a couple of miles when I realized I had forgotten my phone. I turned around to go get it. I searched the house looking for it, found it in the bedroom on my nightstand. What I didn’t find was Ali. I looked and her car was gone too. I was curious, if not suspicious. For my next meeting I pulled my car off the road around the corner. In less than ten minutes, I saw her car speed by. I tried to follow her, but my car was pointed in the wrong direction and I lost the car in traffic. Now I really wanted to know what she was up to.

“The next week, I told Ali I had a meeting, but I really didn’t. I waited to see where she was going. This time I managed to stay with her for about 20 minutes, lost her in a ritzy neighborhood at a stop sign. I cruised around for a while until I saw her car parked in front of a mansion that looked like something out of Gone with the Wind. I pulled in behind Ali’s car, it was the only place to park, the driveway was full of cars. I made my way to the front door. I could hear music and laughter coming from inside. It may have been a bit of a double standard thinking my *wife* was at a party with some man made me furious. I had to find out who this guy was. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do next, I just stood there frozen in place. The decision was taken out of my hands when a couple came up behind me and rang the doorbell. The door swung open to let the guests in. There stood a woman I had met a couple times. It was the mayor’s wife. It seems I must have made an impression on her she remembered me, “Hi Mary, we weren’t expecting you. Please come in and join the party.”

“Sylvia I was trapped, but still curious to see who my *wife* was with. I was a little underdressed but went in anyway. Ann escorted me into a large ballroom. I was astounded by the opulence of her home. She asked if I wanted something to drink. At that point, I needed something strong so I said, I would love something.

“Girlfriend, you will never guess what happened next. My hostess looked over the crowed room snaped her fingers and called out, “Cherie please come here and find what our guest would like to drink.”

“She casually said, “Mary we weren’t expecting you. But you’re welcome, the more the merrier. Please join us, there plenty to eat and drink. We have been hosting political fundraisers the last few months, this is the last one before the coming elections.

“A woman decked out in a classical French Maid’s costume, approached and asked in bad French ‘madame ce que vous aimeriez boire.’ The maid blushed demurely. She showed the proper deference expected of a servant, by immediately lowering her gaze.”

Tom hoped Mary didn’t recognize him. He was sadly mistaken as he was eventually to find out.

“Sylvia, it has been a long time since my high school French class but I recognized that she was asking me what I wanted to drink. I mumbled ‘white wine’ in English and the maid disappeared off to get my drink.

“I was stunned, when my drink was delivered and I got a good look at her face. It took a few seconds before I realized the maid was really my Ali. Ann saw my stunned reaction and asked, “It seems you know our maid. Cherie has been a godsend in serving at these events. I don’t know how we could have gotten by without her.

“I was having a difficult time finding good help for these festivities. A dear friend of mine, Gloria Williams, recommended that young lady to me. I believe you know her. She lives near you and has mentioned you to me several times.”

“Why yes, I know Gloria. I just recognized your maid. I’m just surprised to see her looking like that. It’s the uniform that startled me. You don’t see those very often outside of Halloween parties. The woman you call Cherie, I know her by a different name. She usually dresses a little less risqué than the way she is clothed now.”

“Ah yes, that was an issue. It was my idea. these parties are all about getting the guests to open their wallets. These donors are invited to all kinds of get-together’s everyone asking for donations. I thought we needed something to make us stand out. It may be a bit of a cliché, I decided to go with the French maid theme. All the bartenders plus Cherie are dressed in that theme. At first, she was reluctant to wear the costume she thought it was demeaning. It took some negotiations to get her to agree. She does look spectacular in that uniform. All the men seem to approve. Unofficially, I have heard she has had a number of indecent proposals from some of the gentlemen and even a few decent ones.”

“Cherie? That is not how I know her.”

“Yes, it is an alias. She told me she didn’t want the word getting back to her spouse that she had taken a second job.”

“Forgive my surprise, the woman I know also doesn’t speak French.”

Ann proudly announced, “That too was my brain child. I hired a French teacher to work with her and the bartenders one hour a day. Cherie is a quick learner and now knows enough conversational French to add to the illusion, even if her accent is horrendous. She is a real hit among the boosters. She has done such a bang-up job. I have offered her a full-time job working for me. But no matter how much I was willing to pay her she says she can’t accept my offer. Maybe you can talk to her for me?”

“Sylvia, I stayed until the party broke up. It was an experience watching every rich, self-professed Casanova ogling my husband and treating him like he was nothing but a sexual appetizer on a smorgasbord. He really played the part of a flirtatious cocktail waitress. Splitting time between serving drinks and fending off sexual advances. Watching my husband interact with a roomful of men, it became apparent to me that most of them would ante up a lot of money for a smile from the woman he presented as.

“The uniform had been made and fitted personally for Ali. The stretchy bodice of the costume hugged her artificial curves. Her boobs had a mind of their own as they bobbed and swayed with every step. The top only accentuated them. Cherie took tiny little steps to help keep his girls under control. She kept surprising me. It seems every day she opens another chapter in the mysteries of womanhood. She parried unwanted advances as if she had been doing it her entire life.

“She kept working until the last guest left. Like a good servant, she stayed behind to clean up. I can’t prove it but seeing me there I believe she took her time cleaning up, trying to postpone the inevitable showdown with me. I waited impatiently by the cars for Ali to come out.

“We had a long talk standing in the street. Ali initially refused to explain why she had taken a night job. I wouldn’t let it go. She finally broke down and told me that since my birthday was coming up. She wanted to get me something nice, and didn’t feel right using the household money. She got the opportunity to earn a little extra money on the side so she took it.

“Let me show you what that dear creature gave me for my birthday. It is a gorgeous diamond tennis bracelet.”

Even Sylvia was shocked, “That is truly beautiful. With your unlimited monies, what did you get Tom for his birthday?”

“I got Ali a Gotham Steel non-stick fry pan. Which for your information, she was very happy to get.”

Sylvia gave out a good old fashion belly laugh. “Let me see, frying pan on one hand and diamonds on the other. Yea, that makes things even steven. Give me a break, Mary. Tom gives you something personal and you give him something totally impersonal. Sounds like you were trying to make a point emphasizing his status in the house.”

@ @ @ @

Before Mary could respond, Ali, called up that dinner was ready. The ladies made their way to the dining room. The three of them sat down and had a delicious meal. Ali made steak sandwiches served on fresh homemade sourdough bread and a large fruit salad. It was accompanied by a bottle of excellent California wine.

As Ali was cleaning up, Mary took Sylvia by the hand and led her into the lounge. Where she retrieved a bottle of 12-year-old single malt scotch and two highball glasses. She filled both glasses with the amber fluid and they clinked them together in a toast to friendship. They sat and laughed as they did so often before as roommates. The old feeling of companionship returning to both of them. They sat there reminiscing about the good old days for several hours.

Ali had finished with the cleanup. She noticed the two were huddled together having a deep conversation and had almost finished their drinks when he approached.

"Can I get you two ladies a drink?"

Holding up the near empty scotch bottle, Mary said, “Yes, go the cabinet and get us another bottle of this good stuff, please.”

Ali, quickly returned and handed the full bottle to his wife. Mary accepted the bottle with a smile and said, “Thanks, that is all we will need for the night, you are free for the rest of the night.”

Eventually, Mary suggested they take things back upstairs to her bedroom. They grabbed what was left of the joy juice and the glasses. As they were headed to the stairs, they happened to walk by the alcove that Mary had set up as an office. She watched Ali with admiration. Apparently, he had just finished his clean up as he was wearing his long hair up in a girlie top knot to get it out of the way. Held in place with a colorful red scrunchie. He was now sitting at the computer lost in concentration. He had a pair of reading glasses perched at the end of his upturned nose. He was perched on a chair with his long nylon encased legs crossed one over the other at the thigh in a very feminine manner. A pump dangling from the tip of a manicured toe.

Making sure they were far enough away where Ali couldn’t hear Sylvia commented to her friend, “I would think sitting like that would be anatomically uncomfortable for a male.”

Mary coughed discretely, and giggled, “It would be if he had male genitals of any significant size.”

Sylvia blushed and asked with an impish grin, “Let me ask, if the reason you are willing to forgo relations with your husband is because of his inadequacy of…. you know down there?”

Smiling Mary replied, “I have examined many a man’s undercarriage, in my lifetime. In comparison, he is a what I describe as a betweener, not large but not small. As a lover, he was always adequate if not spectacular. Our current life style that defies society norms has nothing to do with bedroom inadequacies.”

Grabbing the bottle of joy juice with one hand and taking her house guest by the other hand Mary headed for the stairs.

“I thought I had my life all figured out. Two weekends ago, things turned on something as simple as shopping trip. Ali and I went shopping at the mall.

“Ali, in her typical over the top feminine ensemble, super tight pencil skirt, and needle heel stilettos with a diameter at the ground of less than 1 centimeter. We were strolling around the crowded mall window shopping. Ali had lagged behind as she stopped to look in at a dress that had caught her eye. We both had purses with shoulder straps. Out of nowhere, a man in a grey hoodie and jeans grabbed my purse strap and pulled me to the ground. I wouldn’t let go of the purse so he pulled out a switch blade knife and cut the leather strap and ran off with my purse. It had everything in it the car and house keys, my wallet with all my cash and credit cards. All I could do was lay on the ground and scream, “Thief, stop him!”

“With this crazed man running through the crowded mall and brandishing a long knife, people parted in front of him like the Red Sea did for the Israelites.

“My Ali casually unslung her purse, swung it over her head, and threw it like a leather bolo, acting as if she was an Argentine gaucho. The purse wrapped around his ankle and brought him down flat on his face. The purse and knife sprawling out in front of him. Ali calmly waked over to him and as he stretched out to retrieve his knife, in an imitation of Clint Eastwood Ali looked down at him and said in a deep manly voice said, “You've got to ask yourself one question: 'Do I feel lucky?' Well, do you, punk?”

“The thief glared back and reached for his weapon, whereupon Ali picked up her right heel and drove the stiletto spike right through his hand, pinning it to the floor. Talk about the howl of a wounded animal, his cry brought the entire mall to a halt. I staggered to my feet and started toward my husband. He looked in my direction and in a firm command ordered me, “Stay where you are!”

“Ali would never order me to do anything. In that instant, I realized I had my husband back.

“He made no effort to let the crook up, someone must have called the police. As they approached the scene, Ali had picked up my purse, she stood there with her perp wiggling on her heel like a worm on a fishhook. She had taken my compact out and was checking her appearance. She took out my lip gloss and was reapplying it as the cops asked her to lift her foot so they could take away their prisoner. When the police were taking my statement, my husband stood protectively by my side. I waited while Ali gave her statement. The police listened unbelievingly to how this sugar-and-spice frail woman could bring down a wanted pickpocket.

“Ali took me by the elbow and led me to our car, where the passenger side door was opened and I sat there shaking uncontrollably. Ali drove to a drive-through and bought me a cup of coffee, even after I told him I didn’t want coffee. He paid my words no heed. We pulled off to the side of the parking lot. My glove compartment was opened and Ali, pulled out a flask of whisky I keep there for medicinal purposes. I didn’t think anyone knew it was there. He poured in a double shot into my coffee. It was just what I needed. He drove us home and led me to my bed, again against my wishes, he helped get me undressed and pulled back the covers, ordering me to get into bed.

“‘You stay there until I till you to get up! Is that clear?’ He disappeared for a few minutes and returned with a glass of brandy that helped calm my nerves. I managed to take a quick nap. I awoke only when there was a knock on my door where Ali brought me a cup of soup and cheese sandwich for lunch.

“It was the first time in a year that I wasn’t required to make a single decision. I was told when and what to eat, what to wear, when to sleep when to get up. It was a great respite. I had my manly husband back, even if he was wearing makeup, a dress and heels. I always wanted to be in charge but found I loved being taken care of just as much.”

“Girlfriend I’m don’t want you to go upstairs to merely walk down memory lane. I need your advice and help. Let’s go upstairs and decide my future and that of Tom and Ali.”

Martin was just looking for a costume. What he found was a whole new world and new possibilities.

Happy Halloween

Martin looked through the few racks of costumes one more time. It was still a week before the Halloween dance at the Student Union and all of the costume shops he had been to had been pretty much picked through. There were not many people looking for costumes now, they would have been through earlier in the week.

This was the fourth place near campus he had been in and the situation was the same. Unless he wanted to wear a hokey skeleton costume made out of nylon, he was out of luck. He didn't want to look like some kind of dork and he would rather stay home than go to the party if that was the case.

He was headed out the door with a disappointed look on his face when a boy came up to him just outside. At first, he thought that the boy worked for the costume store because he was in costume. He was dressed all in green, obviously a leprechaun.

"Couldn't find what you were looking for son?" The boy said. It took him a moment to realize that this was not a boy at all. He was all of four feet tall, but built like a full-grown man. If he had been 6 feet tall, he could have passed as one of Robin Hood's Merry Men.

He had an open face with a hint of a smile playing at the leathery corners of his mouth, as if he was about to tell a funny joke. His size would let him pass as a 12-year-old, but just the texture of his face said that he was much older than that. The eyes were the determining factor. Martin's grandfather had had the same kind of fine lines at the corners of his eyes. The way he looked up at Martin said that he was looking at an old man, not a young boy.

"I saw you going through those costume racks, but you didn't buy anything. Was there something wrong with them?”

He acted friendly enough, so Martin smiled at him and replied, "I was just looking for something authentic. I didn't want to show up for the college Halloween party in something that looked like a child's costume." Realizing that he sounded patronizing in his assessment of the store's inventory, he hastened to add, "It's nothing against the store! If I'd been smarter about looking for a costume, I would have been here days ago and found what I wanted then."

Martin's quick thinking apparently satisfied the little man because his narrowed eyes relaxed and nodded. "Yes, the selection gets rather limited as we get closer to the holiday. They usually give me a better inventory for the New Years' parties. I still have time to sell these outfits to children though."

He looked closer at Martin, rubbing his hands together. "Now, as for you. You said that you were looking for a more authentic costume. As you can see, my selection is rather limited now. But…I can refer you to another store and I know that their merchandise is much more authentic."

Martin considered for a moment before he shook his head and said, "No. I need to get to work. Thank you anyway."

"Oh come on boy," the man cajoled. "I'll walk you over there, it's just downstairs. We'll be there in two minutes and you will be able to find what you are looking for in a jiffy." He snapped his fingers to emphasize his point.

Martin's desire to fit in with everyone at the party overrode his need to go off to work at the restaurant and he agreed to go to the other shop.

"Come on, I'll walk you down there. Their store is hard to find from here." The little man’s constant chatter distracted Martin from asking why there would be a costume store in the mall that would be hard to find. The two of them walked over to the elevator while the little man talked about the store they were going to. Martin found himself enthralled with the descriptions of, not just the costumes, but the accessories that were available.

The elevator door opened immediately when the call button was pressed. When they stepped inside, he was surprised to see his guide insert a coin into the panel before pressing a button. When he realized that Martin had seen what he done, he explained, "Oh, that's just an override function. If I put a coin into the panel, the elevator won't stop to let anyone else on."

The little man told the story glibly enough, but it did not seem to ring true. There was nothing Martin could do as the door slid closed, seemingly faster than normal. The car began moving down immediately after, but the trip lasted for almost a minute.

"Did you feel that?" Martin asked, looking at his companion. He had felt dizzy for a second or two and the elevator had seemed to lurch. Almost as if it had gone sideways or diagonally instead of down.

"Feel what?" the little man said. "Oh…you mean that bump. That always seems to happen when I use this elevator. I hardly even notice it any more. Don't worry, we're perfectly safe." The man could not have looked less unconcerned. Martin himself would probably have been hysterical if he would have seen that everything outside the elevator car had been nothing more than a gray fog during those few seconds. "Here we are," he said, "the garden level."

The view outside of the elevator really did describe a garden…or a forest. Everything was bright with natural lighting and there was no sign of a flat surface or a square corner.

The scene was surreal enough that Martin stood inside the elevator and just took everything in. It appeared to be what you would expect of a shopping mall, if that mall was at a Renaissance Fair. There were stores and shops visible with customers moving down the passage between them.

There were, however, just a few difference from the malls he was accustomed to. Like the fact that the entrances to the stores were openings in or between large rocks or in trees, in itself, that would not have been as disconcerting as the shoppers themselves.

There were people, yes, obviously dressed for the holiday in rustic robes or in various kinds of leather. What kept him from leaving the elevator was that were the shoppers who were not human. He could see a man and woman browsing through the wares on a display table. They had to be 8 feet tall and built proportionately for their height. They were the tallest people he had ever seen and they would have been famous for their height. But he had never heard of someone like this.

Further along, a trio of tall slender men were going into a store. They were dressed in muted reds and yellows, almost like a uniform. The thing that really clinched the fact that something was 'off' were the birds that were flitting around the area. There had to be over a dozen of them and it wasn't until one of them landed on a table nearby that Martin realized that these were people with wings.

He looked down at his guide and said, "You guys really go all out for Halloween." Even as he said it, he knew that it wasn't Halloween out there. Telling himself that was the reason helped him to accept it though.

The little man smiled slightly at Martin's insistence that everything was normal. "It does look it, doesn't it? Let me take you to my friend's shop so that you can make your selection." He led the way out of the elevator and Martin trailed after. Once outside, Martin turned back to see that the elevator car stood out as a brightly lit room set into a large tree. Before he could react, the door slid quietly closed to leave a brown surface set into the side of the tree.

"Don't worry," the man said reassuringly, "it will still be there." He turned around and went down a few stores before stopping before the opening into a large tree. He stood there waiting for Martin to catch up.

Martin was finally beginning to listen to the misgivings that had been building up, but it was a bit late now. His fight-or-flight instincts were telling him that he was involved in something beyond his ability to understand and everything was telling him to either get back into the elevator or find a stairway and go back to the real world. But he was beginning to suspect that he was stuck here and that he needed the little man to get out again. The wisest course of action was probably to just go along with it, be careful, and keep his eyes open.

The shop he was ushered into seemed rather spacious for seeming to have been carved into a tree. For all of its earthy atmosphere, it was still a store. The walls, up to the arched ceiling, held racks of clothing. There were tables lining the traffic area all the way to the back of the store, that held all manner of leather goods. There were additional clothing racks at the back of the store beside display cases. Martin could not see a cash register, but he wasn't sure if he would recognize one around here anyway.

A door slid open at the back of the store, obviously in response to their entry. A girl, apparently the sales clerk, came out before closing the door behind her.

Her face was what Martin saw first and he was in love. If he were to be asked later what there was about her that he found so attractive, he could not have told you. It was everything as a package. Her deep blue eyes were set apart just right and the nose between them was larger than a pug nose without dominating the rest of her face. Her complexion was clear, with an overall light tan. She didn't seem to need makeup because of her natural coloring. Even so, her lips looked full and red. Perfectly kissable.

She favored Martin with an appraising glance and a passing smile. He could see that even her teeth were white and perfect. Her gaze traveled past Martin and down to his escort.

"Donnel," she said, smiling down at him. "I see that you have brought me another referral."

Donnel bowed to the girl from his waist. "Yes, ma'am. He made some uncomplimentary comments about my inventory, so I thought I would bring him to you." His tone of voice had changed to a much more respectful one, even though he managed to convey his hidden annoyance with Martin.

"Thank you Donnel. I have your fee here," she reached into a pouch on her belt and took out a small gold coin which she flipped over to the little man. The coin flashed through the air, turning several times before landing in the palm of his hand. Donnel looked at it for a moment, almost as if he wanted to bite it and bend it. He apparently thought better of questioning its authenticity and slipped it into his vest.

Bowing to her again, he said, "Thank you, ma'am. I hope we can do business again."

She gave him with a brief friendly smile before she turned her attention back to Martin. Knowing that he had been dismissed, Donnel turned and quietly left the store. Martin was totally captivated by the girl's countenance and never even registered Donnel's absence.

She smiled at Martin and the world seemed to recede in importance as he only seemed to see her.

“My name is Amareth. I believe that you are interested in an authentic costume of some sort?" She said. Her musical tone of voice was warm and inviting. Just hearing her speak enthralled him. The words seemed to echo somehow in his ears.

Realizing that she was expecting an answer, Martin blinked for a second or two before he said, "Ye…Yes ma’am. My name is Martin Brady. All I saw upstairs was nylon and cheap cotton. I wanted to look more presentable for the campus dance."

She could see that he was totally taken with her and almost incapable of thought. She smiled and, after studying him for a moment, she said, "I'm sorry. I didn't realize that my glamour was quite so intense." She paused for a moment and her eyes narrowed a bit. When she opened them again, Martin found that he no longer felt like he was wrapped in gauze. The girl's face was no longer quite so captivating, even though it had lost none of its beauty. For some reason he had been unable to think of anything other than how beautiful she was and that he wanted to spend the rest of his life in her presence.

She was still very attractive. He assumed that she was wearing heels because she stood as tall as he was and he didn't know of too many 6 foot plus girls. She could easily have been a model because of her looks and how she moved.

"Martin?"

"Yes, ma'am?" he blinked at her and realized that he was staring again, getting lost in her eyes. It failed to register with him that she already knew his name.

"I can't turn my glamour down any further. You need to focus," Amareth said with a slight smile. She spoke like someone who knew that she was attractive and worthy of worship by undeserving males. The difference was that her manner was friendly and warm, nothing like the pretty girls on campus.

"Yes, ma'am," Martin answered. He was repeating himself, but he couldn't think of anything else to say.

“Please stop calling me ma’am," she laughed. "That’s my mother. You are here to buy something from me, so I should be calling you, sir.”

She put her hand on his arm. “Not that I mind manners though.” She guided him toward the back of the store as she asked, “What kind of costume were you thinking of?”

Martin felt completely at ease in her presence, he felt that he would give anything to stay like this. Happily, she didn’t seem to be taking advantage of him.

"I'm not sure now. What kind of costumes do you have?"

"I have a little bit of everything here," she said smoothly. "If you want to be a knight, I have a full suit of armor." She gestured to where a metal man appeared to be propped in the corner. "If you want to go as a bird, I have an eagle." The other corner was occupied by a man-sized eagle.

"Of course, those are a bit expensive. I'd have to charge you a lung or kidney for one of those." She winked at him but Martin got the impression that she was completely serious.

"Do you have something I could rent instead?" he asked half seriously. He was trying to get into the spirit of things by joking, “Maybe I could get the organ back if I return the costume?"

Amareth nodded and indicated a rack where a deflated brunette girl hung. "I do have some costumes like that. But you would still need to pay something. How would you feel about going as a cheerleader? It would only cost you the privilege of naming your first child. You would be 17 years old again."

Martin thought that he was getting the hang of the sales girl's banter. "How much will it cost if I bring it back?"

Amareth's expression did not change from her serious demeanor when she replied, "The cost is to name your first born child. If you don't bring the costume back, you will remain as a 17-year-old cheerleader and I get to add your current form to my inventory and I still get the naming rights."

The smile on Martin's face faded. While it sounded like she was joking around, he got the sense that she really was not. The longer this conversation went on, the more it felt like he was playing the part of Alice in Wonderland. The only thing missing was the White Rabbit and the Cheshire Cat.

Amareth's expression softened as she could see that Martin was not familiar with how business was done here in the bazaar.

"I'm sorry Martin. It would appear that Donnel has put one over on me and put you at risk as well. You obviously are not someone who would normally shop here. I think that we can find you a costume that will work for you that won't cost you more than you can afford." She led him over to a rack of clothes beside the counter. "Now…I don't take cash or credit in the way you think of it. Unless you happen to carry gold coins?"

He shook his head slowly. He realized that he might actually learn about what was going on around him and he didn't want to say or do something to stop the explanation.

She decided to take pity on the obvious outsider and explain some of the intricacies of his surroundings.

“This is the Bazaar,” she began. “There are many places like it, you just have to know where to look and how to get there.” She waved to indicate her store around them. “My shop is just one of hundreds in this particular area. We call it the Bazaar, with a capital B. There are other places that call themselves the Bazaar, but we are the biggest and the best. We are also the only one that is frequented by the inhabitants of Fairie or people who prefer items from our realm.”

He heard everything that she had said and he understood every word, but the concepts involved refused to connect in any logical sense. Was she telling him that he was no longer in Minnesota and that he was surrounded by elves and fairies?

The girl continued, drawing him back from his mental vapor lock.

"Something that you think might be strange or silly could be valuable. By the same token, truly valuable items here might cost you more than you could possibly imagine. Be careful about giving your word lightly or making a promise that you do not really mean as they can be as ironclad as manacles or steel bars.”

She waved at one the clothing racks beside them. "Now, something from this rack will only cost you a small vial of your blood. I'm able to sell that blood to someone who lives on blood."

"Vampires?" He didn't want to believe that vampires existed. But, after what he had seen so far, they just might be real after all.

She nodded. "Yes. But not in the traditional sense that you are familiar with. Vampires suffer from a variety of disorders related to their condition and register themselves so that they can receive medical treatment. Because they are in constant need of blood, there are many humans who sell their blood. There is actually a thriving black market involving blood. Don't worry though, you are in no danger."

As much as Martin felt that he should back out the door and try to go home, something told him that he couldn't return to familiar territory without Amareth's help. His guide was gone and he wasn’t sure he could get the elevator to work.

He didn’t think that a normal coin would get him home again. If he took her at her word that he was in no danger, then he could trade a vial of his blood for a simple costume and she might be willing to let him go.

He looked at the various robes, vests, and shirts made of leather. "Well, what could I get?"

Amareth studied him for a few moments before she said thoughtfully, "I think that you would look good as a ranger. You know, like from the movies?"

"You know about those movies?" Martian asked, surprised.

"Of course," she replied with a smile. "This might not be the world you are familiar with, but we do maintain contact with yours. I have to say that I found the elves in your movies to be rather amusing." She pulled out a brown cloak, a dark green shirt and trousers. "How about going to your costume party as a ranger? You'll look completely authentic for the dance and the spell will fade within days. Then the costume will just be regular clothes." She winked at him. "Who knows. You might even end up with a date. Every princess likes to be around an honorable man.”

Martin smiled at the thought. While he was not necessarily unattractive to the opposite sex, he wasn't all that confident in how he related to girls. The college co-eds he had dated found him to be too much work to spend time on to build a relationship. He knew that there had to be girls out there that might be interested in him, but he hadn't met them yet. Not that he was looking for a one-night stand. He wanted to meet a girl he could talk to and enjoy spending time with. One who was looking for the same kind of things he was.

He nodded in agreement and Amareth returned his smile. She was an honorable person herself and did not want to take advantage of the boy. She would be able to make a small profit on this transaction and Martin would benefit without serious cost to himself. She hung Martin's costume on a hook next to the counter and waved him over. She took out a small device from below the counter and set it between them.

To reassure him he was perfectly safe, she explained it to him. "This is how we collect blood. You lay your hand across the dome and a needle will draw the vial of blood from the thick portions of the palm of your hand. Doing it this way will keep you from feeling any kind of pain."

He looked at her for a moment, trying to gauge just how much he should believe her before he calmly laid his hand over the dome the way she had described. There was a momentary jab into 3 or 4 spots on his palm, but there was no pain or even the sensation of needles sliding into his hand. The one thing that alarmed him was that he wasn't able to pull his hand away.

"Don't worry," Amareth said. "It's just part of the spell. You just can't take your hand away until the blood draw is finished. You will be fine."

Before she could continue with her explanation, they were interrupted by the three men Martin had seen earlier in the corridor. They came through the door in a wedge, one in the lead and flanked by the other two. They acted like they owned the place as the leader swaggered in.

Amareth moved around the counter to confront him before he had gone too far. "Walden! What do you want here?" Her attitude said that she considered the man to be pretty much a bug or rodent.

Walden leered at her, obviously appreciating the scenery. "Your highness." He positively oozed conceit and superciliousness as he addressed her, making a rude bow toward her. "As you can see, we are the bazaar security and we are here to collect your payment."

Amareth slashed her hand down angrily. "Forget it Walden! I told you when I moved into this space that I wasn't going to pay you any protection money. Get out!" Amareth wasn't intimidated by how the oily thug spoke or how he tried to use his physical presence to overawe her.

Walden smiled thinly. "You know how these things work Amareth. If you don't pay us, things might happen." As he spoke, a tray of jewelry fell to the floor behind him, obviously pushed by one of his escorts.

Stuck at the counter, Martin could only watch Walden make his threats as he stood at the counter. Amareth's anger at having her merchandise thrown around or damaged was obvious. "Stop it Walden! My father will not take kindly to your strong arm behavior!"

"King Thanguron has no authority over us, princess," Walden sneered. "We are not in your kingdom and he will not take action. As long as we do not harm you, we are immune." Walden again tried to overawe the girl with size, trying to crowd her without touching her. He was almost a foot taller than Amareth, but his attempt at intimidating her was fruitless as she did not step back or even look afraid.

Martin was worried that her bravado might provoke the gangsters into actually attacking her. If he had been able, he probably could have tried to slip out the back of the store and avoid trouble. Once the familiar fight-or-flight instinct had passed, courage took hold and Martin stood tall and shouted at Walden to draw his attention. "Hey slime ball! Leave her alone!"

Walden straightened up from trying to scare Amareth and looked at Martin for the first time. "What is this princess? Is your pet fighting your battles now?"

"You're twice as big as she is, jerk! Why don't you pick on someone closer to your own size?" His bravado sounded like just that, but he had at least drawn their attention away from her.

Martin could feel the needles in his hand beginning to withdraw and he tore his hand loose. Now that he had their attention, he was going to find himself in trouble very quickly. Walden and his men began moving down the aisles toward Martin, with Walden drawing a sword from a scabbard on his belt. Apparently, the prohibition against violence did not extend from Amareth to anyone else.

Martin backed away, moving along the counter and ended up trapping himself against the wall. He looked about for something to fight with, a club or something and something drew his eyes to the open display of swords on the wall.

His hand stabbed out to take hold of a short sword from the open case. As his hand closed around the hilt, his bloody palm tingled as if an electric current were coursing through the sword and up his arm. Just holding the weapon seemed to fill Martin with an overpowering sense of confidence. That confidence came through the smile that formed on Martin's face and how his eyes tightened as he looked at the three thugs.

Walden did not see the change in Martin and spat contemptuously, "You are mixing into the affairs of elves and you are out-matched, human."

'You have nothing to fear hero. I will help you.' Martin heard the words of encouragement, but no one was speaking. He faltered for only a moment before deciding to trust the message. 'I am here. We are one. Trust me.' He had already seen and heard enough unusual things today, so Martin was willing to take the voice at face value. Especially when facing a sword-wielding gangster.

"I don't like bullies. I especially hate ones who pick on women." He stepped away from his corner to give himself room to maneuver. Taking up a stance that would allow himself to be defensive or go on the offensive, Martin twirled the sword in his hand with unaccustomed dexterity.

The display tables limited the number of attackers who could approach him to only two, if all three tried to attack him at once they would only interfere with each other. Walden was smart enough to let his muscle men attack instead of risking himself and stood back to allow them to attempt a pincer attack. Martin showed no concern as they moved toward him, each of them were a foot taller than he was. They both carried a short club that could be used in close quarters, while Walden was armed with a short sword like Martin's.

Both henchmen came at Martin at the same time, one swinging roundhouse while the other tried to bring his club down on Martin's head. Instead of remaining in one place as a target, Martin found himself weaving and dodging with unnatural agility under and around the attacks. As he stood up again, he swung his blade and a single curving slash cut through both clubs. As each piece of wood was severed, there was a blue flash from the sword blade and his opponents found themselves holding a piece of wood and metal that ended less than inch beyond their fingers.

Walden had been close on the heels of his men, prepared to use his sword on Martin. Instead of being able to add his attack theirs, he found himself brought up short Martin’s sword that was suddenly pointed at his throat. There had been no way he could have changed weapons but Martin now held a sword that was a good two feet longer than the one he had begun the battle with.

"Do you want to continue this altercation, Elf?" Martin's voice was cold. "I have been civil until now. If you continue, my sword will drink your blood and none of you will leave here alive." Walden's eyes were large and his men had the common sense to keep their distance and not endanger their boss's life by attacking Martin.

Walden's speech was formal as he said, "I will withdraw. I and my men will not trouble this store further." Martin continued to hold his sword pointed at them as the three men backed away and left the store. He and Amareth quickly found themselves alone again.

The girl stood halfway to the door, where she had been when the excitement had started. Her expression conveyed a sense of total shock as she stood there with wide eyes and her mouth open in awe. Things had started out as a confrontation with a thug and his enforcers who were trying to do a shakedown for protection money and had ended with her customer defending them both with a shape-shifting sword. Things became even more interesting when the sword transformed back into its original non-descript short form.

It took Amareth only moments to decide upon a course of action and she walked quickly to the front doors where she closed and locked them. She walked back to Martin, but stopped several feet away.

He was still on the adrenalin high of combat and he felt like throwing his head back and yelling for joy. He’d never felt anything like that before. The look on his face must have said the same because Amareth spoke calmly and carefully. "Martin? Are you able to put that sword down?"

The voice spoke to Martin again. 'Yes, you can put me down, but I would prefer to be sheathed at your side.'

Martin smiled at Amareth and relayed the gist of what his sword told him. She relaxed somewhat and pointed to a scabbard that hung from the side of the case the sword had come from. It took Martin just a minute to sheathe his sword and to fasten the belt around his waist. His hand remained on the hilt of the sword.

Once the weapon was safely at his side, Amareth felt a bit more at ease. She realized that Martin could quite probably draw the sword in the blink of an eye, so she made no sudden moves.

"Martin, I intended to sell you the cloak, trousers, and shirt for your party and send you on your way. I think that things have changed and we need to investigate. Will you come with me?" At Martin's brief nod, she walked to the back of the store and opened her sliding door. She gestured for him to walk through and she joined him once he was through.

"From your behavior, I can see that you have accepted some of the unusual things that have been happening. I doubt that I could separate you from that sword and you would experience a lot of difficulties if you tried to carry it with you in your normal life. I am going to take you to my father’s kingdom so that we can determine what has happened."

Martin's invisible companion confirmed what Amareth said and indicated its willingness to cooperate. Martin agreed and tried to stand more at ease, sensing that she was uncomfortable with his sword.

She turned to the door again and slid it open to reveal a large reception hall instead of the much smaller store space they had just left. Spaced around each side of the room were doors, some looking like standard entry doors and others the size of garage doors. There were portraits and banners on the walls above the doors. Martin looked on with narrowed eyes, accepting the strangeness, but obviously wanting an explanation at the same time.

Amareth looked at him and said solemnly, “You have become part of a larger world, Martin Brady, whether you are ready for it or not. Walden could not hurt me while I was in the shop, the wards I cast in the store would have prevented him from even touching me. But he could have done a great deal of damage before my father’s men would have arrived. If he could have gotten me outside of the shop, he could have taken my portal key.” She held up a small disk that was suspended as a pendant around her neck. “He could have sold this key to my father’s enemies and they would have been able to come here unchallenged.”

‘What she says is true,’ his sword said. ‘Now that you carry me, every doorway has the potential to lead you somewhere else. Others can only transit between established portals, but we can create our own at will.’ Martin found that knowledge interesting, but he could see that it was the kind of information that he should be very careful about sharing. There was also information that he was going to want to know as well. Like who was ‘We?’

She led him out of the reception hall and through corridors that changed their character from stark stone to ones that had more paintings and tapestries hung on them. Amareth stopped at an open door through which they could see what appeared to be an apartment.

“These are guest rooms,” Amareth said as she turned to Martin. “We are in the residential wing of the palace right now and I would like you to stay here while I report to my father about what has happened.” She smiled at him and her eyes seemed to sparkle as she said somewhat apologetically, “You are going to need to prepare for an audience.”

Martin just looked into the room and back to Amareth. Enough strange things had taken place that he was not sure that he wanted to take anything at face value. “I have to admit that it doesn’t look like a jail cell. Are you going to lock the door once I’m in there?”

The completely shocked expression on Amareth’s face said that the idea had not even crossed her mind. “No! You are completely safe here. You are a guest, not a prisoner.” She stopped for a moment and then held her open hand up. “I give you my word that I mean you no harm and that you are among friends.”

‘She has given you her binding word. You have nothing to fear by trusting her.’

Martin smiled at her and held up his hands in a placating gesture. “I understand. I’m sorry if I offended you.”

“I know that everything seems strange to you and you have no reason to trust me. If you like, just leave the door to the corridor open. I will send someone to you with refreshments. I will report to my father and I will come back. It is just easier if you remain here rather than roam the castle.”

Martin nodded in agreement, what she was saying made sense. She returned his nod and he watched her walk down the hall. She moved smoothly, almost floating along the floor. Once she was gone, Martin stepped into the room and closed the door. With her assurance that he was not a prisoner and the statement from whatever inhabited his sword, he really was not worried about being stuck here. He decided to take the opportunity to get to know his new companion.

He unbuckled the sheath on his belt and drew the sword. Before he could take a seat in an armchair, there was a knock at the door and a young boy entered with a tray of fruit and pitcher of water. Idly, Martin wondered if the boy were really as young as he looked. Considering what he had already learned from Amareth’s appearance, he knew that appearances were definitely deceiving.

He took a seat in at the table instead to make it easier to eat and drink. Then he focused his attention on his sword.

“Who are you?” was the first and most obvious question he had.

‘That is easy to explain, but it can be difficult to understand,’ was the answer. ‘To put it in terms that will make the most sense to you is that I am a magic sword and you are a part of me. My name is Mithkandin. Thousands of years ago, I was a god of battle.’

Martin’s eyes went wide. The thoughts that went through his head were, ‘A cursed sword!’ and ‘I’m part of it?’

‘No, Martin. And yes at the same time,’ Mithkandin’s thought seemed to convey both amusement and sympathy. ‘In all of my years before I bound my essence into this weapon, I never encountered a truly cursed sword. The curse comes from the bearer being unwilling to discard the weapon rather than being unable to do so.’

“So I can put you down and nothing will happen to me?” Martin asked carefully.

‘Yes, exactly that. I promise you that a time will come when you will decide to do just that. I have had candidates who have dropped me the moment I spoke to them and others when they found out what it means to carry me.

‘I will not lie to you,’ the sword told him. ‘To carry me is a great responsibility. You will find yourself to be both a target and a magnet for anyone who would either serve you or use you.’

“You mean they will kill me to take you?” Martin felt a jolt of fear at the thought that he would have to defend himself constantly.

‘You can be killed, but it will take power similar to one of your nuclear weapons,’ the sword said, plucking information from Martin’s thoughts. ‘You are almost immortal while we are joined.’

“Really?” Martin thought that sounded pretty good until the sword continued.

‘Yes. You cannot be killed by conventional means and you will live a much longer life than you normally would. However, you will find that a long life is not always desirable. It can become very lonely when you outlive friends and relatives. I have seen it happen more than once and it is usually why I change hands.’

That brought the thought of a cursed sword back to mind and Martin felt somewhat sorry for himself. What did he do to have been saddled with this fate?

Mithkandin again picked up on his thoughts. ‘I was in the princess’ shop for a very long time and I encountered many men and women. None of them were what I considered to be worthy.’ It paused as if allowing Martin to consider what had been said. ‘I chose you because you had the heart and integrity that was required and I sensed an undefinable quality that was important as well. In addition, you would not have sought out the responsibility of carrying me if you had been aware of it.

‘You will always have the ability to put me down,’ Mithkandin reiterated. ‘Now that you and I are bound, I cannot desert you, regardless of how I am used.’

While Martin’s mind was completely open to Mithkandin, the exchange did not work both ways, at least not yet. The god in the sword was telling most of the truth in that Martin could put him down whenever he desired and that Mithkandin could leave him.

However, the sword actually was capable of severing their relationship if Martin abused the power he had been given. Mithkandin had already determined that Martin possessed that undefinable factor that had made him the ideal candidate to be the sword-bearer. It felt that is was safe to lie about this to Martin as the sword did not expect to ever break the oath it had just made.

“I’m sorry, but I have a real problem with the fact that you say you are a god. That is against what I believe.” It was the personal ethics and morals of the candidate that often caused them to disqualify themselves and Mithkandin could only address those concerns. If Martin declined Mithkandin’s invitation and offer, it would have to continue searching.

‘Yes, I already know that,’ Mithkandin said. ‘However, there is a great difference between a god and a deity.’ There was a pause before Mithkandin continued, almost as if he were gathering his thoughts. ‘My story starts thousands of years ago, with a raiding party telling stories around a campfire. Stories about an unseen helper of hunters and soldiers. Those stories gave soldiers confidence in themselves and battles went well. Over the years, the stories became epics and more soldiers believed in them.

‘Eventually, whole armies were praying to that unseen being for help in their upcoming battles and the result was increased luck or fortune during a battle. That led to more people praying and improved results during their battles.

‘Over time, those prayers caused their war god to become a real entity and to have real powers. I walked among them for a very long time and continued to gain in power. Eventually, every race reaches a point where their battles have all been fought and they tire of conflict. It is also true that those times of peace cannot last. When it became apparent that I was no longer needed, I imbued this sword with my essence until such time as I might be needed again.’

The thought of war and the associated death and destruction was enough to turn his stomach. To know that he was now linked to something that celebrated these things was even worse.

‘Martin,’ Mithkandin said. He had to repeat himself to break through Martin’s shock. ‘Martin! There is much more involved in battle than just killing.”

Once Mithkandin had Martin’s attention, he continued. ‘Warfare is only a minor part of a battle. While I have participated in and orchestrated many battles of different sizes over the thousands of years that I have existed, I have worked as an advisor to heads of state, ambassadors, and military leaders to resolve conflicts peacefully.

‘That is the preferred manner of battle. It is no less a battle, but far more preferable to destroying living things. I believe that you will be an excellent statesman Martin.’

They were interrupted by a knock at the door. Martin resheathed the sword before he opened the door to find an older man outside. It was obvious that this was a citizen of Fairie as he seemed to be unnaturally tall and thin. His pale complexion, very blonde hair, and grey eyes almost made him look like a ghost. His face was expressionless as he looked down at Martin.

He stared back at the tall man for a moment before Martin said, “Yes, can I help you?” That was all he intended to say though. The vibe he was getting said that he had no respect for Martin and Martin had no intention of letting it rattle him. It became a test of wills to see who would cave in first as they both stood looking at the other.

Martin kept the smile that he was feeling off his face. He knew that the burden was on the stranger to do something or take some kind of action, all he had to do was wait. The standoff lasted for only a minute before the newcomer gave in.

“My name is Randolf, Mr. Brady. King Thanguron has asked me to assess you and your sword prior to meeting with you. Would you come with me to my workroom?” His manner was one who thought that Martin was inferior to him and he really did not want anything to do with him.

Martin considered refusing to accompany him, but that course of action was petty and unproductive. Instead, he nodded and stepped into the corridor. There were no words exchanged as Martin followed Randolf through several adjoining hallways before entering an open area with tables and shelf units spaced around the room. It gave every impression of a research laboratory, the only thing missing were the computers and the microscopes.

“What is your function here, Randolf,” Martin asked, partly from curiosity and also because he needed to know who he was dealing with.

“I am the King’s lead scientist and alchemist. I am knowledgeable in general science and many aspects of magic. I assess magic weapons and newcomers before they are seen by the King.”

Randolf looked at Martin for a moment before gesturing to a seat at one of the tables. Martin looked around as he took the offered seat. Everything around him had an organic feel to it, except the stone walls. And they were actual stones in mortar. Nothing said new or mass-produced.

‘You are among friends,’ the sword told him. ‘I have been watching for a long time and there is much I will teach you. This man only wants to make sure that you and I are not a danger.’

‘Definitely not Kansas,’ Martin thought to himself wryly. There was a sense of amusement from his sword. He looked back to Randolf and said, “So, if you are a magic researcher, does that mean that you are a wizard?”

Randolf’s expression turned a bit sour and brightened again. “No. The term would be mage because I am an elf. A human magic-user would call themselves a wizard.” He answered with some pride in his voice and there seemed to be a sense of condescension at the same time.

‘Elves have always felt themselves superior to the other races,’ Martin’s sword told him. ‘Do not worry. The fact that you are now my wielder is a source of fear for this person. Do not be afraid to tell him what he wants to know. No one can separate us and we are more powerful than they can imagine.’

Martin’s expression had become rather vacant while he communed with the sword at his side. When his conversation finished, he returned to the here-and-now with a couple of blinks. He looked back to Randolf and smiled.

“How can I help you?” he said.

At Randolf's request, he drew the sword and held it in both hands before him to display it. Martin's grasp never left the pommel. Martin and Randolf embarked upon a research session that seemed to last for hours, broken only occasionally for a nature break or refreshment. Martin described how he had first encountered Donnel, been led to Amareth’s curio shop, and the confrontation with Walden. Randolf was particularly intense upon the sequence of events that had taken place.

Then they moved on to the fact that Martin seemed to be in communication with the sword. Randolf had assumed that Martin was a wandering soul that had attached itself to a human. It now appeared that he was dealing with a human who had become the wielder of a magic weapon of some kind. When Randolf heard that Martin held the Sword of Mithkandin, it was enough to actually scare the 500-year-old elf.

Randolf’s questions then segued into demonstrations of what the sword was capable of. It functioned quite well as any sort of close-orders weapon, from a dagger up to a ten-foot pike. In Martin’s hands, it could prove to be deadly against any number of simultaneous opponents. As a distance weapon, it was lacking. While it could take on the form of a bow, Martin’s poor capability as an archer meant that he would need a great deal of practice to be of any danger.

Once they were finished, Randolf escorted Martin back to the rooms Amareth had left him in before and left to report his findings to the King and Queen. He didn’t know what time of day it was around here, but his body felt like he had been on the go for an entire day straight. Mithkandin could probably eliminate his fatigue, but he really was not ready for that as yet. Martin locked to door to his suite and went to bed. Something told him that he was going to need the sleep.

* * * * *

“Well Randolf. What can you tell us about our daughter’s defender?”

King Thanguron, Queen Elaira, and Amareth were seated around a meeting table not far from Randolf’s work rooms. Randolf’s message to them had been urgent and had come just as they were preparing to start the day. The three of them had come directly to the conference room to find the old mage pacing at one end of the room. Amareth had had the presence of mind to ask one of the maids to bring them some breakfast, so they began their breakfast meeting once Randolf settled down.

Randolf had actually shaded the truth regarding his responsibilities to the King. In addition to being the chief mage, he was also the chief advisor to the King and Queen. As such, he felt that he needed to make sure that information he passed on to them was coherent and useful. He had to hesitate for a few moments to marshal his thoughts. On the brief walk from his lab, he had tried to decide upon how he would broach everything that he had discovered and that had gone out the window as he sat down.

He looked up and just threw out his initial bombshell. “Your Majesties, Martin Brady wields a god.”

His audience could only look at him in shock before he continued.

“He apparently bonded with the god Mithkandin when the open wounds on the palm of his hand came into contact with the hilt of the sword and nothing is stronger than a blood bond. He now wields the Sword of Mithkandin.”

Questions came from all three royals. “Who is or was Mithkandin? Are we in any danger? Can’t we just take the sword away from him?”

“Mithkandin was a battle god that existed almost five thousand years ago,” Randolf began. “According to myth and from what Mithkandin itself told me, the races who worshipped that deity reached a point where they could only wage war on themselves and they entered an extended period of peace. As there was no need for a battle god, Mithkandin elected to invest its essence into a battle weapon and allowed itself to disappear until such time as it was needed again.”

Randolf looked at the King with a grave expression as he continued, “From the little experimentation I dared to do, we cannot separate the man and sword without grave cost. The god in the sword tells us that Martin has the ability to fight whole armies and to heal any wound. If what it says is true, we could not even stop them by trying to incinerate them.”

The King nodded gravely, encouraging his chief mage to continue.

“Mithkandin can give its wielder the ability to be a chameleon in the same manner as the sword he carries. That means that he can change his appearance at will. Randolf paused for a moment and said, “There is another matter I should mention. Mithkandin says that it is present because of the kind of person Martin is. It isn’t clear if this as to what that means though. Martin is supposed to be able to willingly discard the sword.” The way Randolf delivered that statement sounded like he wanted to explore that avenue.

When he paused, the King looked closely at Randolf and asked, “What else, Randolf?”

“Sire, I am worried about what will happen if the god decides to manifest itself through Martin. It would be like a god walking on Earth again.”

Amareth and her mother had looks of shock when the possibility of a war god being loose on the world, but it was obvious that the King had already thought that far ahead, and maybe further.

Thanguron sat back in his chair, his arms resting on the table. “I definitely need to speak with him,” he said grimly.

* * * * *

Martin walked beside Randolf down the corridors to a small audience chamber for the King and Queen. The attitude the mage had exhibited since discovering that Martin was more than just a human male was radically different. He was respectful and even a bit solicitous of Martin’s comfort. Martin kept his amusement at Randolf’s change to himself knowing that is was purely because the mage was now afraid of him. He could see that keeping his possession of the sword a secret would be a wise course of action.

He also could see that the best course of action was to always show respect for people. You never knew when you might need an ally and it was easy to turn a potential ally into an enemy or an indifferent bystander with a single rude act. He did his best to show that level of regard to Randolf right now. Even if Randolf might never be in a position to help or hurt him, Martin just was not the kind of person to hurt the other man in some way.

When Randolf had come to his door to tell him that the King wished to see him, it had not been a surprise. Randolf tried to coach him somewhat on how to behave when he was presented to the King and Queen, but it basically came down to just respecting their positions as the people in charge in the land.

They stopped at a door that was just outside of the section in the castle that Martin mentally associated with the residential part of the place. It was obviously a conference room, but a large one. Randolf stopped at the door to allow Martin to enter first. Inside the room were several tables spotted around the room, a couple of them held trays of fruits, breads, and pitchers of juice.

Amareth was seated at a larger table with an older-looking couple. They were dressed in comfortable clothes, but nothing said that this was the royal family. They came to their feet as Martin entered the room, doing their best to look friendly and welcoming. He understood how they felt, it was the same behavior that Randolf was exhibiting.

Martin was still dressed in the jeans and denim shirt that he had arrived in and he wished that he a change of clothes, even the shirt and trousers that Amareth was going to sell to him. He wore Mithkandin on his belt again, not to appear threatening but to keep him close. He smiled at them, trying to look friendly. He approached the royal family and stopped about twelve feet away before bowing slightly to show respect.

King Thanguron returned his bow before he stepped forward to offer his hand to Martin.

“Martin Brady,” the King said. “My daughter has told us that you came to her defense and stood forward to defend her honor.”

Martin acknowledged this with a brief nod of his head before the King continued.

“I know that you did this by inadvertently joining yourself to the essence of the god that is in your sword,” the King continued. “I have no doubt that you are an honorable person because you would not have been considered an acceptable host to carry that sword otherwise.

“I would like to know more about you as a person however. Would you join us?” He waved to the tables of refreshments and the conference table. Once they had all filled their plates, all five of them sat down at the table.

At the King’s request, Martin then told them his life story. It took all of about fifteen minutes. After all, how long does it take to relate two decades of life? When Martin related that he was a college student and studying political science, the King’s smile grew a bit broader. It was obvious that an idea was quickly forming into a full-fledged plan. Martin finally ran down after relating the events that they all had become so intensely knowledgeable of and he spread his hands. He saw no reason to share his exchange with Mithkandin.

“Martin,” the King began. “I will be honest with you and with the god in your sword. The fact that you hold the equivalent of your world’s major weapons scares me. Even though you assure us that we are in no danger from you, I would like to know what your intentions are.”

The question was not one that Martin or even Mithkandin had been prepared to answer and Martin had to sit back and think.

“Sir, I don’t know,” Martin said. “I’m still getting used to the fact that a world I thought was strictly fantasy really exists. I can tell you that I do not want to cause trouble. I want to set your mind at ease though. Mithkandin tells me that diplomacy and advising statesmen is just as much a part of battle as actual combat. War might be a necessary part of civilization, but it is a final resort.”

The King nodded when he heard Martin’s statement and the others relaxed somewhat as well.

“I’m glad to hear that. Now, I am speaking to you and to the god in your sword.” His eyes narrowed. “I know that it will be very difficult and costly to attempt to separate you. You and I need to come up with some way for us to be comfortable with Mithkandin’s return to the world. If we cannot, it could mean the end of our civilizations.”

* * * * *

The music was typically loud for a college function, but the noise was concentrated more at one end of the big room. That was where the young adults who wanted to dance were clustered. The tables and refreshments were located at the other end, away from the band.

Martin ordered the drinks from girl behind the counter and passed over the drink tickets. Amareth was seated at one of the table, waiting for him and his eyes never left her. As it turned out, he did not need to worry about impressing the college girls or the fact that he would be attending the party alone. He was now Amareth’s unofficial official escort when she was away from the boundaries of her parent’s kingdom.

When Martin had explained to King Thanguron and Queen Elaira that Mithkandin was not a blood-thirsty instrument of war, but that it’s focus was upon the health and safety of its allies. That had given Amareth’s parents and their advisor the idea of getting Mithkandin to agree to be her advisor.

Mithkandin told Martin later that this was a solution that it much preferred. The sword did not wish to bond with the leader of a country or kingdom as that lead to possible corruption at some point, but it felt that Thanguron’s kingdom was an excellent bastion of humanity and equality. It had also pointed out to Martin that just because it was called a battle god did not mean that promoting prolonged peace was not a preferable way of life.

Thanguron had explained to Martin that Amareth had been operating the curiosity shop where they met mainly as something for her to do. Her parents had not been happy with it, but her older brother and two older sisters were already active in affairs of state and she had argued that she could do much for the kingdom by being among the general populace. The incident with Walden had not been the first and this last confrontation had reached a new level so Amareth’s operation of the shop would have to come to an end. A decision that Amareth reluctantly agreed made sense.

Instead, Amareth would be expected to accept some of the same responsibilities that her sisters had. Martin’s presence with Mithkandin presented them all with some interesting options and opportunities to allow Amareth to be a representative to more distant kingdoms, lands, and realms. That is, if Martin and Mithkandin would be willing to be her advisors, guides, and bodyguards.

Thus, Martin and, of course, Mithkandin accepted a post that Mithkandin had wanted anyway. They had even accepted the limitations placed upon them by becoming blood-bond to support and defend the kingdom. It went without saying that Amareth would be defended by Mithkandin to the same level as it did Martin.

Even though it was not an affair of state, Martin found himself escorting Amareth to the Halloween party that had started him down this path. She had insisted upon accompanying back to his own realm for this function and to allow him to close out his responsibilities smoothly. When Amareth was staying at the castle with her parents, Martin would not always be required and he would be able to return home to visit his mother. When he and Amareth were traveling as part of her duties, Martin could be gone for extended periods.

Martin still smiled when he and Amareth had stopped by his home to tell his mother that he had accepted a job as a guide for an out-of-town organization and that he might be travelling with them on occasion as a helper. She had been very happy for him, but he was not sure if it was because he had a job better than being a dishwasher, the little stack of gold coins he had put down on the table in front of her, or because she thought that Amareth as somehow his girlfriend.

The thought of Amareth as a girlfriend was nice, but he was sure that scenario was off the table. He was human, while she was an elf. He was a run-of-the-mill commoner, while she was royalty. Of course, the fact that he carried a magic sword was a point in his favor.

A wife sets out to teach her husband a lesson and they both learn something about themselves.

He Took Two For The Team
By Monica Rose and Marina Kelly

Samantha stood impatiently at the checkout station tapping her toe, as the pimple-faced young checker robotically scanned her basket's contents. Once her cart was empty Sam, as she preferred to be called, opened her faux Gucci purse - the real thing would have to wait - and dug out her debit card. Just as she punched in her last digit of her pin, she heard, "Sam is that you?"

Turning her head, Sam was delighted to see an old sorority sister, Betty. Abandoning her cart with a shove to allow for the next customer, Sam pushed past several perturbed shoppers to join Betty at the end of the line where they hugged like long lost cousins. As they hugged a tiny toddler terrorist tried to escape from his mother's shopping cart. An instant before he did a swan dive to the floor, Betty seized her child by the arm reminiscent of the way birds of prey often seize small mammals.

"Well I'll be, Samantha Turner, how have you been? This is my oldest. Meet Tony the terrible. It's been what 5 years since graduation? I almost didn't recognize you in a dress and heels. In school the only time I saw you in skirts were for parties."

Sam held out her left hand displaying her engagement and wedding ring. "Actually it's Samantha Johansson now. As to the outfit that is for my husband, he prefers I be more June Cleaver, than my preferable tomboy self."

"Johansson, what happened to that Neanderthal of a football player you were dating?"

"Ah, Billy I haven't thought of him in a long time. He was a legend in his own mind. He was great in bed but dumber than a sack of rocks. I dumped him after homecoming."

"So how did you meet Mr. Right, and are there any little Beavers running around at home? More importantly do you have any pictures?"

Sam retrieved her wallet and slid out her favorite picture. Sam proudly handed over a worn snapshot depicting a couple, both sweaty and exhausted, standing by a palm tree.

"That's my husband. No kids, but we're currently trying. It was taken at the finish line of the Hawaiian Triathlon. We met when I 'accidently' tripped him at the change over from swimming to bikes."

Betty looked in awe at the chiseled forms of the two athletes. "Wow, I'm impressed. You both look to be in fantastic shape. I bet there isn't five pounds of fat between you. In fact you two are almost the same size."

"Actually he is almost a full inch taller than me. I'm ashamed to admit we weigh the same. We both kept in shape and were into completive triathlons until we opened our own marketing business six months ago - Johansson Marketing Inc."

"Sorry, never heard of it. But I'm really impressed."

"Don't be too impressed. We're on the verge of going bankrupt, which means we will lose everything, our house, savings, and even our cars. I can't tell you the kind of pressure we're under. I'm desperate and ready to do almost anything to get us out from under this thing."

"I'm still awed that in this economy you guys had the guts to tackle something like that. I'm nothing but a housewife and mother. My hubby believes in the adage; 'Keep 'Em Barefoot and Pregnant.' I have three rug rats, my little man here and twin two year old girls at home with their grandmother. They just contracted chicken pox."

Sam reached for her picture but Betty wouldn't give it back, as she continued to study it. "He is almost too pretty to be a man. Isn't his hair a bit long for a business executive?"

"At my request, he's been growing his hair since college and keeps it pulled back in a ponytail. He's our CPA and chief accountant. I am the one who interacts with the clients. Nobody at work even notices it anymore."

"In fact, you two have an uncanny resemblance. I'm not sure if that says more about you or him."

Sam gave a hearty laugh. "You ain't seen nothin' yet," and dug deeper into her wallet and produced a second picture. She traded with Betty. "I don't normally show people this but take a look."

Betty examined it closely, "I didn't know you had a sister."

Sam laughed, "I don't. That's me and my husband at our company's New Year Eve's costume party."

"No way that is a guy, what's the gag?"

"It's not a gag. It took me six weeks to talk him into it. His name is Samuel. The running joke at work is two Sam's running the place. I thought it would be good for company morale for us to dress alike and see if our employees could tell us apart."

Betty shrugged not totally convinced. "Does he cross-dress often?"

"Oh, heavens no! He's all man, even a bit chauvinistic? The only way I could get him into a skirt and to the party was to promise that next year I would dress as a man, well that and a valium I secretly dissolved in his pre party glass of tequila."

"If you don't mind me asking, how's he in bed?"

"Betty, we always shared that kind of info about our boyfriends; but this is my husband. I'll say upstairs he has it all. He has a brilliant mind, a heart the size of Texas, but downstairs he is how do I delicately put this? He's small in stature."

"OMG Sam, I'm so sorry. Why did you marry him? Didn't you take him out for a test drive before closing the deal?"

"Don't get me wrong Betty. That man totally satisfies me. Right from the beginning he let me know that his bedroom philosophy is women come first. Maybe he's overcompensating; but in bed he's like an Energizer Bunny, my needs are paramount and drive him to unbelievable efforts. Why some nights when I'm sated and too exhausted to continue, Sam never concerns himself about his pleasure; he will just climb into bed and cuddle me until morning."

"Sam, this guy sounds more like a saint then a man."

"True there are times he raises me to heavenly delights; but trust me; he has his flaws."

"Sam I've got to run, how about dinner at my house tomorrow?"

"Sorry can't make it. Hope you understand we have reservations at the steakhouse out on the strand. It took weeks to get the reservations."

"Alright, if you prefer stake tartar, over hamburger helper I'll understand this one time. How about we meet for lunch the day after tomorrow?"

"Fine Betty, but no place fancy I don't have a lot of discretionary funds right now, this night out will wipe me until payday."

Betty smiled and said, "Okay, we'll meet in my favorite resonant, Burger King. The kids like the crowns. Say 12:30? I want to hear all about this business of yours. I guess you knew what you were doing majoring in marketing at school."

@ @ @ @

That day Betty found a rather subdued Samantha sitting at a table staring out the window.

Betty hugged her old friend, "I'm the last of the big spenders. It's my treat today. What would you like?"

Betty returned with their order, two cheeseburgers and a large fry. They ate in relative silence as they picked at the fries.

"Sam, what's happened? You were so alive and vivacious the other day. Now you act like your dog just died."

Sam sobbed softly, dabbed her runny nose with a napkin.

"Betty, I don't know how to say this."

"Come on girl, in school we never held anything back. Remember those all nighters where we went through boxes of Kleenex?"

"It's my husband!"

Betty clapped in glee, "Man trouble! That was my major in college. Remember what we did to Jimmy Hollingsworth when he stood up Veronica for the prom? She spent all that money on a new dress and waited all night. He never even called."

That brought a smile as Sam replied, "Yea that SOB never stood another girl up."

Betty giggled, "It was entirely my plan I'm proud to say. I heard after we finished with him he needed six months of therapy."

Sam brightened considerably recalling that night. "We found Jimmy at the Frat pool party. After three hours of drinking beer, it was easy for Holly to slip him a glass of her special punch. Can you imagine his surprise, the last thing he remembered with drinking and chasing coeds; then hours later he woke up tethered to the flag pool wearing only a diaper and his hair decorated in dozens of small pigtails tied up with pretty pink bows."

"Don't forget about the shave and bath we gave him. The schmuck didn't have a hair left below his hairline. I still think shaving his eyebrows was a bit much. But he was baby bottom smooth. And then Sally sacrificed her entire bottle of expensive French perfume to anoint our baby girl. He smelled like the preverbal French Whore house.

Betty laughed so hard soft drink came out her nose. "I can still see him struggling to get that harness off. As hard as he fought; with the baby bottle superglued to one hand and a doll glued to the other he couldn't use his hands."

Sam I have a confession to make, "I peed my pants when the campus cops took him off to the clinic to have the pacifier we superglued in his mouth removed. Do you think he actually used the diaper?"

Sam thought briefly, "Well let's figure this out, he drank beer for three hours and then took a five hour nap. I strongly suspect his diapers were filled with more than baby powder. Then Monica who worked on the yearbook staff snuck his picture in the yearbook under Prom activities. I'll never forget the caption under his picture, 'Momma's little girl needs a hug. I asked him to autograph my book but he stormed off."

"Some people have no sense of humor."

The two women faced each other and executed a perfect high five.

"Alright sister that's enough reminiscing about the good old days. Let's hear about your problem.

Taking a deep breath Samantha said, "My husband is so exasperating. He's fixated on my lack of curves. He wants me to get my breasts enlarged. Sometimes it seems that is all he cares about. I know my AA is below the norm; but I have always been a runner and their lack of bulk is ideal for jogging."

Betty interrupted, "Sam, that's not the kind of exercise most men are interested in. You really can't blame him for that."

"Betty you don't understand. This is my body, why should I have to undergo major surgery just to satisfy my husband's fantasies?"

Betty was bemused by the observation. "I am astounded at your husband's audacity, critiquing your body, considering his own inadequacies. Of course, medical science can easily correct your shortfall, his not so much. Does he harp on this all the time?"

"Not much, he brings it up frequently and asks me to reconsider. Once I say no, he drops it until next time. The thing that really irritates me is the way he ogles other woman. Whenever we are out and a voluptuous woman is within 100 yards his eyes are drawn to her just as surely as a compass needle is drawn to magnetic north. Betty it is so tiresome, always feeling inadequate in my husband's eyes."

With a massive sigh, Sam went on, "So this morning when I put on my brassier it hit me, I am still wearing a training bra; I barely fill an A cup. Is that sad or what? I made a decision I am going to give my husband what he wants. Valentine's day is coming up that is going to be my gift to him."

Betty chimed in, "In that case you should give yourself a present as well. I know this really well stocked adult novelty items store that sells the best vibrating dildos."

Samantha blushed bright red as Betty went on, "Use it to teach your husband a lesson."

Samantha gasped in astonishment, "You can't be implying I use it on him?"

Betty chuckled, "Oh, heavens no, not even I'm that kinky. Just leave it out on your nightstand. Periodically pick it up and fondle it when he's looking. He'll get the message."

"Betty, you are one devious woman."

"Thanks I try."

@ @ @ @

That evening Samuel arrived home, pulling his car into the quaint cul-de-sac after he stayed late to participate in a teleconference with the agent of a prospective new client. The client was interviewing likely new marketing companies and the agent said his boss was dissatisfied with their current representation. Various possible dates were discussed; the only one open corresponded with the weekend of the Johansson's annual Valentines' Day Dance. Sam extended an invitation to the CEO to attend the company's party where, hopefully, they could pitch their business plan.

Sam sat anxiously at the dining room table and waited to tell Samuel her decision. She was into her second glass of wine and absentmindedly toyed with the rectangular box that rested on the table.

Samuel passed through the room on the way to the kitchen to get himself a beer. He was in a celebrating mood. He only caught a glance at the box on the table and while he stood at the fridge he yelled, "Whatcha got in the box?"

As she slid the box into her lap she remarked, "Oh, this little old thing it's nothing."

Sitting down across from his wife he responded, "Okay, if you say so, I didn't get a real good look at it but the box didn't look all that small to me."

Samantha giggled and decided to change the subject, "We need to talk. I've some good news."

Samuel took a sip of his beer and said, "That's a coincidence, so do I! I got confirmation today that a new client is seriously considering switching his business over to us. Maximilian Wolfgang von Goethe, the owner of Von Goethe Holdings. He has interests in shipping, transportation, and energy production. His shipping involves ocean, air, and land transport of goods. Energy involves oil and green energy sources. I have a telephone call scheduled for tomorrow with his right hand man. With the proper presentation, I think we've a great chance of landing their account."

Samantha couldn't hold it in any longer and said, "Wow, that's great! Now it's my turn. You know how you're always pestering me about my inadequate bosom?"

"I wouldn't use the word pester, but go on."

"I've given the issue a great deal of thought. Can you explain to me one more time why this is so important to you?"

Samuel, felt a trap here and knew he needed to tread very lightly. "It's hard to put into words. I guess I'm just a product of the sex generation."

"Sam there is no such thing! There is an X generation but not a sex one."

"Alright, maybe it's the sexual revolution I'm talking about. My point is aside from the sensual nature of a woman's breast; their visual appeal defines an individual as a woman. To me the larger the breast, the more womanly the person and the greater the sex appeal, Res ipsa loquitur — the matter's self evident."

Realizing the conversation wasn't going the way she wanted, Samantha interrupted.

"Stop showing off! In plain English, you think big boobs are sexy, yes or no!"

Knowing a lose-lose situation when he saw it, Samuel responded, "Honey, be honest. You have to agree that men are visual animals. We fall in love with an entire person; but we're initially attracted to their looks. Obviously breasts are a large piece of a woman's aura, just as is her face, hair and figure. Curves on a woman are attractive. Yes, boobs form an important part of the overall picture, just as a slim waist and rounded bottom are. If a woman has a figure, she should display it. If you got it, flaunt it."

"So, you're saying that you want me to have more of a figure, that I would be more attractive with 10 pounds of jiggling fat on my chest and ass?"

Samuel continued without thinking, "You know I think you are beautiful, it's just that I believe that adding to your figure would make you better looking." Almost as soon as the words were out of his mouth, he knew that they didn't sound right; but it was too late to backtrack before Samantha continued.

"Is that why you've been hounding me to have my breasts done? Saying that with tits I'll look like a woman instead of prepubescent girl?"

Samuel should have shut up and apologized right there, but, "No…no honey. I love you regardless of what you look like."

Now he really should have kept quiet. Instead he dug his hole deeper. "I was thinking you would have greater self-confidence projecting a more womanly image for our clients. That's all."

"You're saying that my having a pair of prominent breasts would improve our chances of closing deals with clients?"

"Well, yes. When we're dealing with some of the corporate execs we have seen, they look at the whole package, first impressions are lasting ones. In this economic environment we need every advantage we can get. Let's be honest, everyone does it, sex sells. It'll never hurt our chances of getting business if you occasionally flash some old geezer a little thigh and tit. If they are concentrating on your chest instead of the contract, they are more likely to sign on the dotted line."

Samantha glared at Samuel, her eyes narrowed as she was obviously thinking.

Samuel tried to redirect her attention, "You said you had some news?"

His wife blinked a couple of times, "Sorry. I zoned out for a minute there. I guess I've forgotten what I wanted to say. I need to go to the bathroom, excuse me." She set the box she had been holding in her lap casually on the table and left the room, one hand brushing at her face like she was moving a lock of hair.

Samuel looked after her for a moment, confused. Then he turned his attention to the box. It was a little over a foot long and 3 or 4 inches wide. Curious, he lifted the top of the box off to reveal what he first thought was an obelisk; except on closer scrutiny was obviously a reproduction of a man's penis. He dropped the lid like it was a hot potato. He stared transfixed; Samuel felt totally inadequate. He could see that this monster made his own equipment look as if it belonged to a child. Hearing the bathroom door re-open, he quickly put the lid back on the box.

He stood just as Samantha returned. Seeing the box had been moved she smiled a wicked smile, she handed her husband a piece of paper.

"What's this?"

"Here's a novel idea, read it. It's my pre-surgery schedule and procedures."

Sam's heart briefly stopped, "Surgery? Is everything alright?"

Samantha made a major production of picking up the box as she responded, "Yes, everything's fine. I'm having my breasts augmented, my gift to you for Valentine's Day."

She cradled the box to her chest as she walked off and mumbled the quip, "Soon you'll have something new to play with as do I. That should make both of us happy. Come to bed, you can thank me in advance for your present."

Sam tore a button off his dress shirt as he got undressed in route to his bedroom. He paused in the doorway and marveled at how lucky he was to have married Samantha; her naked form was laying on the bed waiting for him. He kicked off his jockey shorts on the way to the bed he almost stumbled in route when he noticed the monstrous vibrator laying on the nightstand. Totally intimidated by the massive phallic device, Sam made sure he brought his 'A game' to the night's activities.

Getting dressed in the morning and headed for the door, Samuel just couldn't keep his mouth shut; he pointed to the vibrator and asked, "Am I as good as your friend over there?"

"Of course dear; but then again I haven't bought batteries yet."

Samuel's happy expression turned into a dour pout. He quickly headed for his car before his traitorous misty eyes betrayed him.

During the day, it appeared to Samuel that his wife was avoiding him. Around 4 PM he got off the phone having talked with the prospective client, Maximilian Wolfgang von Goethe's executive assistant, having coordinated the man's visit.

The assistant was a fountain of information; he told Sam that Max was a bit of an eccentric. He related that his likes and dislikes tended to drive his professional decisions. He provided Max's preferred hotel chain, his choice of meals, his favorite brand of whiskey, and then the big bomb. Max biggest idiosyncrasy was he only dated busty blond women. The better endowed, the more he enjoyed himself.

Sam, after a thorough search of his address book, spent most of the afternoon in personnel going through the files of every woman who worked for them. With a heavy heart he headed to his wife's office. This was one conversation he was not looking forward to having.

He sat down across from her and reviewed their current financial situation and emphasized the company's truly desperate straits. Maximilian was the only thing that could keep the wolves at bay.

Then he related Max's preferences as he had been told. When he got to the dating part he paused and stared at his hands. Finally Samantha prompted, "Go on, I know you. There's something more."

"I wouldn't ask this but there are no other alternative. I have been through every one of our acquaintances and employees. The only option I can see is if you agree to be Max's date."

"Samuel Patrick Johansson, are you out of your mind? There must be other alternatives!"

"I have been over this a hundred times, there are only two; we can rescind our invitation and lose the company or hire a working girl that meets his specifications."

"Sam, I know what I am asking, putting aside the emotions for a minute. After your surgery, you'll ideally match the type of woman he prefers to escort to social functions. Being a co-owner you'll be in perfect position to persuade him to come with us."

Samantha gave her husband a stare that sent chills down his spine. She finally broke the silence with, "If I'm to be his escort, just what would be expected of me?"

"Not much, just treat it like any single girl on a date with a rich millionaire."

"Single girl? You aren't implying I should do anything physical are you?"

"Only what you are comfortable with, hold his hand, flirt a bit, and maybe a quick goodnight kiss that sort of thing. It is just imperative that he have a good time. Honey, whatever you do, just know I will still respect and love you in the morning."

Samantha thought, 'Yes but; will I respect you?' Then she said, "Get the hell out of here Samuel, and shut the door behind you! I'll let you know my decision tonight. I need time to evaluate your proposition."

Once the door was closed, Sam put a call through to Betty. "Can I stop by for a cup of coffee and a quick chat on my way home tonight? I won't take up much of your time."

"This sounds serious, would you like something stronger than coffee? I have all the time in the world, my hubby is working late."

@ @ @ @

Sam arrived on Betty's doorstep, still steaming mad. After one look at her friend, she sent the girls back to the den to watch television. She pulled Sam into the living room and sat her down on the sofa.

"Girl…If you get any more pissed, your look will qualify as a death-ray. What's the matter?"

"Betty…Remember when I told you that the company was in trouble?"

Betty nodded, "I remember. Are things getting worse?"

"It depends upon how you look at it," Sam said in frustration. "I told Samuel last night that I was going in for breast augmentation and he was very happy. Then I took out that new best friend we bought together and he about lost it." She smiled lopsidedly at Betty and giggled.

"This afternoon he came to tell me that he had a big fish on the line and that the only way we could get him to sign on with us was to put him together with a big-breasted blonde." Sam made sure to tone down her language. Regardless of how angry she was, she knew that her language could fry little shell-like ears.

Eyes widened in realization, Betty said. "You mean that he expects you to…"

Tears formed at the edges of Sam's eyes as she nodded. "What makes me so angry is that my own husband is so clueless he doesn't even realize that he sounds like he's pimping me out like a common whore."

"That ass!" Betty clapped her hand over her mouth at her outburst, afraid that the little ones might have heard her. "I wonder how he would feel if we put him out on display for some random old maid cougar and let her think that he was available for whatever she had in mind. What are you going to do? Do you know yet? He deserves a good slap upside the head!"

"I'm not sure yet. Samuel is really a great guy. I love him to pieces I just don't think he is cognizant of how degrading and objectifying his actions are to woman. He's a great boss, but even the girls at work are starting to grumble about his persistent ogling." Sam said.

Slowly an idea began to germinate until the solution sprouted full grown in her psyche. "Something you said has given me an idea." A slightly evil smile spread across her face. "Do you remember the picture I showed you of the two of us at the New Year's Eve party?"

"Yes," answered Betty. Then she caught up with her friend and a very broad smile grew on her face as well. "Yes!"

"I've already scheduled my breast surgery for the middle of the month and scheduled the time off from work. It would only be four days," Sam said. "The timing would be just about right for everything to continue normally. Then, if things happen right, I break the news to Samuel and put him right in the crosshairs." She grinned as she contemplated the possible result to her plan.

"Wait a minute!" Betty said. "I missed something. How are you going to get Sam to go through the surgery instead of you?"

Samantha winked at Betty and stood up. Turning toward the rec room, she called, "Caroline! Elizabeth! Come here and give Auntie Samantha a kiss and hug!"

Betty stood her eyes wide. "Oh no! You can't do that! It's too risky!"

Samantha nodded and said, "Yes, there are some risks. What I'll do is go see the doctor in a few days and tell him that I've been exposed. I'll make sure that I explain what is going on, and tell him to keep the time open on his schedule for surgery. The doctor should be able to make sure that I come through it okay. If things go the way I hope, Samuel will learn a couple of big lessons from this."

Betty smiled ear to ear, "Just how big are we talking here, DD's, E's or something even larger? That would show the chauvinist, both sides of the coin! Let me help, please. I have to be part of this Machiavellian plan."

Betty's expression turned to one of concern as the two little girls ran in from watching television, leaving their brother playing with his trucks. It was obvious that they were both in middle of their chicken pox infection, even though they only had a few blisters between them. The ever-present pink Calamine lotion dotted their faces.

Smiling, Samantha knelt down and held her arms out to the girls. Who promptly stood back from this stranger and looked up at their mother. Betty nodded unhappily and said, "Go ahead girls. This is Samantha, a good friend of mine from when Mommy was in school." She put on a happy smile to hide her thoughts from her daughters.

The girls came over to Samantha and allowed themselves to be wrapped into a big hug. "What are you watching on television?" she asked. Both girls started chattering excitedly about the princess and the frog, trying to pull her into the rec room with them. Samantha allowed herself to be towed into the family room where the girls had been ensconced in pillows and blankets to recover from their illness.

"It looks like you're having a party in here," she said to the girls.

Elizabeth, the taller of the two by an inch, nodded. "Mommy promised if we were good and didn't scratch we could have a chicken pox party this weekend. I don't know what that is though. Mommy said we have to invite our yucky brother Tony to our party."

Samantha laughed and looked back at Betty, who hung her head. "Well…I'm sorry I can't come to the party this weekend. Is it okay if I just share a drink with you girls before I go home?"

Elizabeth nodded and Samantha took a drink from one of the glasses on the table in front of the couch. Then she crouched down again and hugged the girls tightly again. She held them out in front of her and looked them both in the eye and said, "Thank you very much for all of your help."

Of course, the girls were confused but smiled prettily at Samantha and told her that she was welcome. Samantha helped each girl up onto the sofa and wrapped them comfortably in their blankets. The girls snuggled down into the warmth and smiled up at Samantha happily. She kissed each child gently on the forehead.

Betty walked Samantha to the door. "I know that Samuel needs to be taught a lesson, but I really want you to see a doctor when the fever starts. Chicken pox can be a problem for adults."

"Luckily Samuel had Chicken pox as a child. So I don't have to be concerned with him being infected."

Betty switched back to the project at hand. "This will be poetic justice at its height. I would love to be there for the grand unveiling…Please? What are you going to christen her?"

"I am not sure; but I would like to break a bottle of champagne over his opinionated chauvinistic hardhead. Let's keep it simple and stick with Sammie, that's what I called him on New Year's Eve — he hated it."

Betty clapped her hands in glee, which brought the munchkins running back to the kitchen to see the cause of their mother's celebration.

"Is the party starting already Mommy?"

"No dear it's not a party; it is more like your Aunt Samantha is opening a school. She is going to teach a personal development class."

The word school had the kids fleeing back to the safety of their blankets and cartoons.

"I have to be there for graduation. What can I bring balloons, cake, or flowers?"

Sam laughed at the thought of having a birthday party for Sammie, but thought better of it. Eventually she came up with a valid justification for Betty to show up for Sammie's grand unveiling. "Maybe you have some jewelry; Sammie can wear to her cotillion."

"I do have a set of long pearls. Your girlfriend can borrow them for the night; pearls go with almost any formal attire. They will be perfect."

"Great, I will call and give you a time. Just remember to bring your camera. I am going to make Samuel a photo album to commemorate Sammie's busting out party."

@ @ @ @

On the short drive to their quaint split level home, Sam prepared for her performance. A talent she had since childhood was her ability to cry on demand. Sitting in her driveway, Samantha took her mascara out and applied an extra heavy coat, knowing the visual effects would be dramatic. 'This must be convincing, if I want to trap the fly in my web,' thought Samantha. She walked to the front door, as if the weight of the world were on her shoulders — getting into character. She paused as she held the doorknob, took a deep breath and prepared for her dramatic entrance.

Samuel was waiting for her with a highball. Samantha snatched the drink out of his hand and spilled some on the rug. She took a large gulp of the drink and ordered her husband, "Clean that up before it stains the carpet." She headed for the couch, slumped down into the cushions as if exhausted and right on cue turned on the water works.

Samantha thought, 'and the game is afoot.' She wiped the tears from her cheeks intentionally creating sizeable dark smudges under her eyes. She looked at her husband with large puppy dog eyes and asked him "Let me make sure what you are asking of me, you want me to pretend to be a single, unattached woman, use my womanly charms, and act as a courtesan for our potential client?"

"For the last time Samantha, that is not what I am asking. Yes, I would love for you to charm him. But only as his companion."

Samantha snorted at the remark, "Companion, consort, courtesan, or concubine...A rose by any other name. Your implied mission for me is the same. Just admit it. What you want is a big-booby, blonde floozy to show this guy a good time."

By this time, Samuel was emotionally spent. He questioned if he was ready to trade his marriage for the company. He knew he had to do something to show how contrite he was.

"Sam, I am so sorry. Let's forget the whole thing, the implants and the blind date. I will call Mr. Wolfgang von Goethe and cancel his invitation. I will call our lawyer in the morning about declaring bankruptcy."

Hearing Samuel make that statement touched her deeply and she loved him for it. But her husband needed to be taught this lesson. She knew that what she had planned for him would do him no harm. Hell, it might even open his eyes to new horizons.

"Samuel, you'll do no such thing! This impacts me more than you. It's my company too and more importantly it's my body and virtue that are at stake. I'm going through with the breast augmentation and the date. I am going to be so sweet to Mr. Wolfgang he will leave here with diabetes.

"Now get your coat and wallet! After I repair my face, you are taking me shopping. I'm going to buy an outfit that will make his eyes pop out of his sexist skull."

@ @ @ @

Thirty minutes later, Sam and Sam were browsing the local mall. They hit every upscale dress shop in the place. Samantha knew exactly what she wanted, a pink, girlie-girl party dress with tons of fluffy lace. It had to be skintight with a front that dipped to the navel. Samantha was about to give up when she saw an advertisement for a shop called the 'Courtesan Boutique.' Sam felt it was divine intervention.

Samantha was determined to find something there. She searched every aisle, until she found a cocktail dress; it wasn't perfect; but it was close enough. It was a real showstopper, fit for a fairy Princess. The gown was bubblegum pink, had a sweetheart neckline, and was knee length with a soft nude fabric and lace overlay. It had a silk slip lining and sheer lace cap sleeves. The intricate and beautiful lace covered bodice had a pattern of small hearts interwoven throughout. Samantha knew the dress was made for Valentine's Day. She took the dress into a changing room to try on. She stepped out to model it for her husband. Even Samuel could tell it was too tight.

"Honey, I think you need a bigger size."

"This is the largest they have in stock. At home, I have a good steel boned corset; that's guaranteed to squeeze the wearer into a perfect hourglass figure.

Sam thought, 'That's strange, I've never seen my wife in a girdle, more or less a corset. Oh well, she's the expert, she knows what she's doing.'

Having redressed Samantha stepped out and remarked, "We'll need a new bra. My old ones will never be able to contain the massive tits you envision for this outing."

Samantha spent some time searching for just the right foundation garment. Eventually she found what she wanted, a padded underwire pushup bra covered in delicate lace. The cups were stiff and firm. Knowing her husband had a 40 inch chest she purchased a 38; figuring it would add to her husband's discomfort and increase the effectiveness of the pushup function. Samantha mused, 'I would never wear anything like that. It will be massively uncomfortable, tantamount to torture after a few hours; by the end of the evening Sammie is going to be begging to take it off. The question is will I be the one to help or will his date?'

Showing the garment to her husband Samantha bragged, "This will add the appearance of at least two cup sizes. The tag says wearing this you'll have the tits of a Los Vegas showgirl. I am sure the resulting display of flesh will appeal to our client's macho side. It will be like offering him a set of boobs on a velvet table. I know it's outrageously expensive; but I think it'll pay huge dividends. What do you think honey?"

Samuel pictured his wife as a centerfold in his head and graciously replied, "Samantha you are the expert, if you need it, by all means then get it."

"Oh, yes dear, we'll definitely need it. You'll see."

Delighted with her purchases so far, Samantha moved on to search for appropriate accouterments. She found crystal earrings that would dangle gracefully from ears and were heavy and long enough where the wearer would be conscious of their presence at all times.

Their next stop was a perfumery to select a scent. Samuel recommended several choices. Samantha rejected each until she found an extremely heavy flowery scent. It was over the top. No normal woman would wear it. But Sam wasn't buying it for a 'normal' woman.

The last stop was a self serve shoe store. Finding the section with just the right color, Sam turned to her husband and asked his advice on the heel length. Samuel shrugged his shoulders and picked up a pair of shoes with blocky three inch heels. "These are like the ones I wore for the company party."

Samantha scoffed at his suggestion and replied, "That dress calls for something more glamorous, and, dare I say, elegant. She held up a shoe with a five and half inch needle heel that was identical in color to the dress. Samuel had never seen anything so feminine in his life. His wife's normal footwear selections for work were flats, on fancy occasions she would wear at most two inch heels.

"Honey, those are the most beautiful footwear I have ever seen; but how in the world will you be able to walk in them. They are more like stilts than shoes."

Sam gave her husband a wicked little smile and replied, "Samuel, the night of the dance I assure you I'll have absolutely no problem getting around."

Sam brought her hand to her face to cover her giggles as see pictured her husband trying to dance backwards in those shoes. 'Ginger Rogers he's not.' She mused.

After a meal from a fast food restaurant, Samantha drove them home. She left Samuel to unload the car. Sam carried everything into their bedroom and thought how happy his wife seemed. Seeing Samantha get into selecting her trousseau for the big dance was a joy. He didn't remember her spending that much energy for their wedding.

The next few days were close to normal. If it wasn't for that damn vibrator on Samantha's night stand, life would have been perfect. Saturday, Samuel was tasked with stripping the bed and putting on fresh bedding. As he finished the last hospital corner he checked to make sure the coast was clear. Then he casually tiptoed to the nightstand. He opened the drawer and somehow that spiteful vibrator accidently fell into the opening.

Sam was felling very self-satisfied until he was brushing his teeth that night when his wife yelled, "Darling, have you been playing with my new toy? I can't find it."

'Shit' thought Samuel. "No dear I have no idea where the dildo is. I'll be right in and help you look."

While he gargled Samantha called, "Never mind I found it. Take your time; there is no reason to hurry, and it's not called a dildo. It's a waterproof personal massager. At least that is what the salesman told me."

At that, Samuel swallowed a mouthful of Listerine.

He came in still coughing and Samantha said sympathetically, "Oh dear, "I hope you aren't coming down with a bug."

"No, something just went down the wrong way."

@ @ @ @

Sunday was a time to relax. Samuel slept in. He got up to find Samantha reading the newspaper. Samuel was about to sit and join her, when Samantha reminded him it was his turn to grocery shop, mentioning the list was on the kitchen table. Sam picked up the small paper, one glance at the list and Sam broke out in a cold sweat. Number one on the list was a 'Six pack' of C batteries.

Several hours later, Sam lugged the bags of groceries into the kitchen and unloaded them into the pantry. Suddenly Samantha was there; she pushed her husband aside and reached around him and snatched the batteries that had been strategically placed on the top shelf. Without saying a word she disappeared into the bedroom and pointedly closed the door.

@ @ @ @

The day for Samantha's appointment with the surgeon finally arrived. She pretended to be nervous about the prospect of the surgery and insisted she needed Samuel to accompany her for the consult. Sitting there with the cosmetic surgeon, she answered all of the questions he asked about her medical history. Unlikely as it seems both and their medical histories were unremarkable and with the exception of the Chicken Pox, were identical.

When the time came to discuss what work was to be done, Dr. Smith asked Samantha to remove her top so that he could examine her torso to determine what options were available.

Samuel got up to leave, but Samantha requested that he remain.

"You’re an extremely healthy woman with good musculature tone, which gives us a wide option. Just how large dto you want your breasts to be Mrs. Johansson?"

"Why…I don't really know, I'm undecided at the moment." she replied as she looked at Samuel.

"Honey, this is your fantasy. What size should we get?"

Samuel looked like a deer-in-the-headlights for a moment. The last thing he'd expected to be asked by his wife was what size her breasts were to be. He had visions of a well-endowed wife, but deciding for her was not something he was prepared to do.

He stammer, "I…I don't know, something large, maybe a C cup?"

Samantha giggled at her husband. "Silly! C cups are mundane and average, think more grandiose."

"I guess D then?" he said tentatively. Like every other husband on the planet, he had no idea what the differences were between a C or D cup. All he cared about is how they would feel in his hands while he made love to his wife.

Samantha nodded thoughtfully for a moment and said, "Well…As long as we are doing this, let's do it right and go all out and get DD's. Is that workable doctor?"

She looked at the surgeon for his opinion. After a few moments study, he looked up into her eyes and said, "Yes, your frame can easily support a double-D cup. I wouldn't recommend it; but your body could handle a double-E cup if you wanted to go that extreme."

Samantha smiled at the doctor and thought, 'This couldn't have been any better if she had planned it.'

"Doctor I don't know about double-E cups, why don't we keep that as an option for now, I will get back to you on it." The doctor handed the consent forms to Samantha, "Write the size you finally decide on, initial next to the box and bring them the day of the surgery. My nurse will provide you with a schedule of my availability."

All smiles Samantha redressed in her bra and blouse. She looked over at Samuel, he smiled broadly. It was obvious to Samantha that Samuel thought his fondest fantasies were about to be fulfilled.

@ @ @ @

The next couple of weeks were filled with the normal business problems of solving various marketing issues, redirecting staff as priorities changed, and making sure that everything was on track for the Valentine's party. Of course, the party was still three weeks away; but there were hundreds of small details that Samantha needed to attend to. Were the caterers were on track, was the hall available and the band was prepared to show up.

Samantha had been paying attention to her health and had been feeling progressively worse as the week had gone on. As bad as she was starting to feel, she mentally rubbed her hands together. Knowing what was wrong with her, it only required a doctor's confirmation of her own diagnosis. Right before lunch, Samantha called Samuel to tell him that she was not feeling well and that she was going off to see the doctor.

Samuel was concerned for her, but he was stuck in preparations for a client presentation and could not break away and go with her. She was not so ill yet that she could not drive herself to her appointment and she really did not want Samuel to be there for this particular meeting anyway.

The doctor's visit had gone pretty much the way Samantha expected. He checked her temperature, blood pressure, and she was sure that when the doctor was done looking at her throat that he could tell her the color of her panties. He had scolded her for allowing herself to be exposed, knowing that she had no immunity. But he had reassured her that the medications he had prescribed would help her with her fever and the blisters. He also instructed her to take pains to use lotion on the blisters and not to scratch. Properly chastened, Samantha could only agree quietly. She took the materials the doctor gave her and drove home.

The first thing she did was call Betty for help. Her school friend laughed good-naturedly when Samantha gave her the news. "I was waiting for your call, girlfriend! I've lined up my mother to take the kids for the next few days, so I'll set up camp in your spare bedroom as your private nurse."

Relieved that her plan had not been derailed, Samantha answered, "Thank you for being willing to help me. I'm starting to have second thoughts. This may not have been one of my better plans." Her tone of voice carried a fair amount of anxiety.

"Hey! Things are going to be fine. We just have to watch over your fever and keep you from scratching. This will all be over in less than a week. I'll dump the kids at my mother's, throw my bags in the car and be there as quick as I can." Betty rang off and rounded up her gang of manikins to march to the neighbor's house.

Meanwhile, Samantha called Samuel on his cell phone to break the news to him. Interestingly, she sounded sooo much worse on the phone with him than with Betty, almost as if she had no strength left at all. Samuel and Betty arrived at the house in a dead heat. Betty introduced herself to Samuel and announced she was here to nurse Samantha back to health. Glad for the help, Samuel carried her things to the spare bedroom.

Inside, they found a pale, pathetic-looking Samantha sprawled on the couch under a pile of blankets, a stack of used tissues balanced on her chest. She had made sure to clean off of her makeup and she had then added just a dusting of white foundation. The result was a Samantha that looked like she had been suffering for days.

"Sam! Are you okay?" The concern for his wife was apparent in his voice as he rushed to her side.

"Yes, honey," she said, her voice sounding weak. "The doctor gave me some prescriptions, but I didn't get them filled before I came home. They're supposed to help me. Could you go to the pharmacy for me?" She looked up at Samuel, turning on the sad, puppy-dog look.

"Of course, dear," he said, hugging her gently. He looked over at Betty and said, "I'll go get her prescriptions filled and pick up some lotion. Can you watch her until I get back?"

Betty smiled, "Sure, Would you also pick up a case of water and some Gatorade? Samantha is going need a lot of fluids in the next few days." Samuel nodded and was out the door with the prescriptions in minutes.

Once his car was down the drive, Samantha sat up on the couch and grinned playfully at Betty. "Well, we're off!" Betty returned her smile and she sat down to finish their preparations.

@ @ @ @

Samuel found Betty fussing around Samantha, trying to make her more comfortable on the couch. He brought her the medicine bottles and shook out the pills for her. While she swallowed them all and he put the bottles away in the bath, Betty made herself scarce by establishing herself in the extra bedroom as Samantha's nurse for the next week.

When he returned, Samantha continued her routine of appearing oh-so pathetic. "Honey, I'm sorry I'm so sick."

"It's okay, Sam," he said, kneeling next to her. "I'll call the doctor and call off the surgery. We can't delay it and have you healed up in time for the party now."

Samantha was prepared for this turn of events and appeared to regain some of her strength, her eyes danced with mischief as she said, "But honey, we need Mr. von Goethe as a client! Without that account as you pointed out we will lose everything. What are we going to do?"

"I don't know," Samuel admitted. "I couldn't find a good date for him before and I'm sure that will be the case again. It's also too late to call and cancel his invitation. I guess that we will just have to deal with him without finding him a companion."

Sam recognized she was going to have to rely on her skills acquired in two years of drama club. Sam's eyes narrowed as Samuel cavalierly said 'companion'. It just seemed to sound like so much more than just a dancing partner. It let her harden her heart somewhat to what she needed to do next.

"But, we need him to sign the contract Samuel! We have to find him a date! His man made that very clear."

"But you can't go through with the surgery Sam. There is no way the doctor would okay you for it now."

Samantha appeared to think for a moment and then her expression brightened. "I know!" Then she slumped down again and said, "No. That wouldn't work. That's just too crazy to even imagine."

Samuel, like the desperate man that he was, took the bait and said, "What is it? At this point, I'm willing to try anything to save our company."

Samantha lied outrageously as she said, "Samuel, I want you to know this gives me no pleasure. The only possible solution is for you to have the surgery and take my place at the party."

Samantha braced herself for the possible repercussions from her appeal, the air charged with anticipation. Her husband was in was in a state of shock, kneeling with his mouth hanging open, his eyes open but not seeing.. After several minutes with no response, Samantha had to act. With an eerie calmness to her voice Samantha repeated herself, changing it to a 'demand' this time.

The fuse was lit; the expected explosion of opposition erupted. "Do you have a screw loose? You have to be kidding! There's no way I could do that! I'd be a laughingstock!"

Playing the scene to the fullest, Samantha slunk down into the couch and pulled the bedding up to her chin. "Your right dear, you couldn't possibly pass as my twin. It must be the fever speaking. Unlike you, I'm just trying to find a solution, not whining about how it can't be done."

Pausing for effect, she then smirked and pleaded with her eyes as her tears broke free and flowed down her cheeks like hot lava. She coughed, once and then used a tissue to wipe her runny nose. She pleaded with her husband as if she were talking to a confused toddler, pulling his attention from contemplating his potential humiliation. "Samuel, that's not true and you know it! We're the same height and build, with identical coloring. You did it before. Remember the New Year's Eve party? You fooled everyone, the people we work with on a daily bases couldn't tell us apart.

"We would need to pluck your eyebrows and do a good job on your makeup. This time it would be even easier. Mr. von Goethe does not know you. You would go as me; I would be there as your business partner to help with our sales pitch. I'll make myself look different, less feminine. You could talk to him about the company and if your theory about men and tits are correct, all you will have to do is show him a good time and you'll have his signature on a contract by the end of the night."

"I don't know Samantha, giving me boobs sounds rather drastic."

"Nonsense, they come out as easy as they go in. You could have them removed as soon as the contract is signed."

Then to dangle a carrot for her husband Samantha added, "I could get mine done to whatever size you want at the same time you have yours undone. Max would never be the wiser."

Then to seal the deal Samantha gave her husband those puppy dog eyes, she reserved only for special occasions.

Samantha could see that Samuel was contemplating her plan; however he had become morose and glum, apprehension was written all over his face. Although the walls were still very much intact, she could see the cracks beginning to spider at a hurried pace. Slowly but surely, brick by brick, the barriers were beginning to show wear. She thought he was wavering so she needed to press her attack.

With a coy smile Samantha said, "Remember what you said. 'If he's concentrating on your boobs, it will be easier to get him to sign on the dotted line.' Getting him to sign with us is the only way to save our company and the jobs of all of our friends and employees. Its two out, bottom of the ninth, the scores tied, the basses are loaded and you're at bat. The only one, who can bring the runner home, is you."

Samuel knelt at his wife's side for the longest time just staring off into space.

Finally, Samuel's resistance to undergoing his wife's cosmetic surgery evaporated faster than a snowflake landing on a hot stone. With a fatalistic shrug of his shoulders he said, "Okay, I'll do it. But will you still respect me?"

Samantha smiled at him, letting herself surrender to the fatigue of fighting her illness. "I'm proud of you dear. Not many guys would take one for the team, like this."

Samuel smiled for the first time and said, "That's strange I always thought they came in pairs."

Samantha laughed and pulled her husband in for a hug as she replied, "You're right. We should say you're taking two for the team."

Sam relaxed against her pillows, pulled the blankets up. Just before drifting off to sleep, she said, "Remember what you said to me! It's imperative that he has a good time. I expect you to do only what you are comfortable with. You know, flirt, laugh at his jokes, dance with him, and hold his hand; of course there will be the obligatory goodnight kiss or two."

Then unable to resist twisting the knife just a little she added, "Tongue is optional. Just don't come home pregnant. How we would explain that to our parents?"

As she fell into a fever induced slumber, Samuel sat back on his haunches and watched his wife sleep with the chill of foreknowledge there would be hell to pay. He squirmed at being hoist on his own petard.

@ @ @ @

Betty woke Samantha up the next morning with a breakfast of tea and toast.

With Samuel at work they were free to talk, "Tell me, is he going to do it? This is going to be so much fun. I have a million ideas of how we can make him look like a big-boobed transvestite hooker."

"Whoa there cowgirl, reign in that kind of talk. We seem to have a misunderstanding. This little drama is being played out, first and foremost to save our company. If I can teach my husband a valuable lesson in the process so much the better. I will not do anything to intentionally humiliate him. Now along the way if he gets himself into an embarrassing situation I won't complain. He is misguided; but not a bad person. In fact, he has a heart of gold. You are not going to tease him about this. If you do I will have to ask you to leave."

"We have a day and a half before he goes under the knife. I need your help in bolstering his self-confidence, so he doesn't get cold feet and back out."

Betty knew what she had to do. "Do you have any more of those New Year Eve party pictures in digital form?"

"Yes, there is a folder on my laptop."

"Give me thirty minutes and I'll create something we can use. I'm a wizard with Photoshop; remove imperfections and blemishes, change skin tones, enhance colors. I can takes inches off here, add them there. Not to brag, I can make Phyllis Diller look like a playboy bunny, if that's what you want."

By three o'clock, Betty had her slide show completed and the computer hooked up to the TV in the den.

Samuel dragged in several hours later. His body language told Samantha he was having serious doubts. "Sam, you're not still worried about pulling off our trading places are you?"

"I've thought this through. There's no way; up close I can convince anyone I'm a woman."

"You've seen magic acts. The secret is misdirection. A good magician fools his audience. A great one makes them believe. You keep his attention focused on your massive hooters and not only will you fool Max, by night's end he will believe you are and have always been Samantha. I have already talked to the girls at the office; they will get everyone to play along. With their help, and lots of makeup it'll be easypeasy!"

"Wait not so fast. You told the girls at the office I was getting a boob job? How could you? They will never respect me again!"

"Relax, you are still the owner, they will respect your position, even if there is an occasional snicker behind your back. There was some discussion of the motivation behind your behavior, whether it was caused by lust or envy.

"They won't give you away; I explained why you are doing this. After a few perfunctory giggles, they settled down. I don’t think they understand how close they are to losing their jobs. Your personal assistant, Mary even asked if she should get your office repainted in pink and asked now that you have your own set of bazookas will you stop staring at all the girls."

"No offense, having a bunch of employees calling me Samantha hardly will be convincing."

"You're right; but having the girls fawn over your hair and makeup, gossip with you and ask where you got the dress - that kind of stuff will help. They will even include you in their conversations and other girlie activities such as inviting you to the powder room. We have this all worked out. It will support the illusion we are creating."

Samantha still sensed doubt, "Let's not skirt the issue, Betty and I will teach you everything you need to know, after all we have almost a week."

Samuel sighed, "A whole week to pickup what has taken you a lifetime to learn. That shouldn't be a problem."

"Oh ye of little faith, we have a plan. Come Friday, the new and improved Samantha will not only be ready, but eager for her first date."

Not giving Samuel a chance to digest what she said, Sam continued, "Using our pictures from New Year's Eve, Betty has worked up a little show to build your confidence."

Betty went over and turned on the computer and television, "Samuel I went through your photos, I cropped out a dozen pictures of you and Samantha. I have talked it over with Samantha and if you can tell me which ones are you and which ones are Samantha she will call the whole thing off. Deal?"

Betty quickly ran through the slide show, not allowing him time to closely examine any of them. Samuel felt he was twisting in the wind and realized he was going to need a new antiperspirant.

"Do it again, please."

The second time through, Betty allowed Samuel all the time he wanted to make his selections. Some he was sure of; but most he reluctantly admitted to himself he had to guess.

"Well how'd I do?"

Samantha doubled over laughing. "Sweetheart, we tricked you. Every one of those is you. If you can't tell it's not me, then no one else will."

"I don't think it's that funny; but your point is well taken. However there is a huge difference from posing for still photographs and convincingly portraying a woman in a face to face situation."

"Betty hand him my computer. Honey we have spent most of the day bookmarking female impersonator sites. They are full of advice on 'passing'. Betty and I will tutor you in feminine mannerisms. From now until Valentine's Day, you lose your man card. You are hereby officially enrolled in Betty and Sam's finishing school for young ladies. By the way, this is strictly a pass-fail course."

@ @ @ @

The time had come to leave for the hospital. Sam's head was overwhelmed with the requirements of mastering all these new procedures and skill sets, there was so much to remember; he was drilled endlessly in the nuances of how to stand, walk, sit, and talk. It was not easy to unlearn a life time of habits and mannerisms. Samuel put everything he had into it. Their financial future depended on him.

At night, he fell into bed totally exhausted. Samantha was so understanding and considerate. Despite her lingering illness she was still there advising and correcting his every failing, never harshly, always with a smile and cheerful suggestion. Betty was a stern taskmaster; but also a caring mentor, never satisfied until each task was completed flawlessly. As a team the two ladies nicely complimented each other. After just one day, Samuel began to feel he might be able to carry off the charade.

Samantha ran a hot shower for her husband, got the temperature just right. They stepped in together; Samantha took the shaving cream and a razor and helped remove the few sparse hairs on his back and shoulders. Kissed him on the neck, handed the cream and razor to Samuel and backed out of the shower saying, "I'll leave the rest to you. Call when you are dressed, we don't have a lot of time."

He stood in their bedroom having just gotten out of the shower, where he had shaved all over as Samantha required. Even his underarms, which Samuel thought was overkill but he did as he was told just hoping this, would be over soon. He sat and combed his damp hair and put it in a feminine ponytail as he had been practicing. Standing, he wondered who the androgynous creature was that he saw in the mirror. He shivered and felt emasculated when he realized it was only his reflection. Proceeding to the bed, he packed the overnight bag Samantha had left out for him. He threw in a change of clothes, underwear, and white tube socks. He was ready to close it when Samantha walked in, took one look at it contents and dumped them on the bed.

"Sammie! What are you doing? These are totally inappropriate. There is no way you can come home wearing a man's flannel shirt and cutoff Levi shorts. What would the orderlies think of a person who has just undergone massive breast augmentation surgery wanting to appear in public dressed as a man?"

She filled the bag up with her toiletries and makeup and added a gorgeous floor length ivory dressing gown and matching panties, explaining they were a gift from Betty.

Samuel whined, "I can't wear that home from the hospital!"

"Don't be silly! The doctors won't release you the same day of surgery. Without complications, you will be spending at least one night there. You'll need something other than those horrid bottom-flashing hospital gowns to wear. When I come to pick you up, I'll bring a clean change of underwear, a nice dress and some comfortable shoes for you to wear coming home."

His voice quivered, "You're not staying with me?" The thought of being abandoned at the hospital apparently terrified Samuel.

Samantha reached out and held Sam's hand and soothingly replied, "No silly. You're a big girl now; you can stay by yourself for one night. Betty and I will be there first thing in the morning. We'll do your makeup and hair and help you get dressed. Everything will be fine, don't freak out on me now!"

@ @ @ @

Four hours later, Samuel was ensconced in his private room, the nurses having finished taking his pre-surgery vitals. He was instructed to relax; the doctor would be in shortly to talk with him. The medical profession's idea of time was remarkably different from the rest of mankind. Samuel sat for almost an hour. He tired of the uncomfortable visitor's chair, and he climbed into bed and tried to relax. He was having problems as he had moved beyond nervous and into panic mode.

Eventually, an elderly gentleman stopped to explain that Samuel's regular doctor had been called away on an emergency. He would be performing the procedure. He did the normal pre-checks in record time. It didn't take a trained detective to recognize he was uncomfortable with the idea of giving a man breast implants.

He nervously waved a handful of papers around. Eventually, he flipped to the last page showing the signature page to Samuel. "Mr. Johansson, your wife dropped off the consent forms. Is that your signature?"

"Yes, doctor is there a problem?"

"No, this is just a most unusual case. Do these forms accurately depict your desires? My usual patient is a young woman whose personality profile indicates psychological distress about her personal appearance and her body self image. Obviously, your case falls outside the bell curve of normalcy. I need you to confirm that you want female breast implants and not male pectoral augmentation, like most normal men ask for.

"Sorry, that sounded judgmental, I didn't intend it that way. I just want to make sure, as your doctor, that I am performing the service you want and are paying for."

Samuel nodded his assent assuming they were the forms he and Samantha had filled out the night before.

"I'm sorry Mr. Johansson; I need you to actually say the words. Then initial next to today's date. I will not ask your motivation; it is none of my business. I will tell you I am the finest breast man in the state. I guarantee you will be happy with my work. I know you will be anxious to see what they will look like, but implants this large will require your chest be heavily bandaged for several days. I will have a nurse come to your home when the supporting bandages can be safely removed. Is that clear?"

"Yes doctor, I promise to follow your instructions to the letter."

The doctor was replaced by a nurse who put in his IV and started his loopy juice. Samuel was almost out of it, when Samantha bounced into the room.

"They tell me you are about to be moved to surgery. I had to talk to you before you go. Can you remain lucid for a few minutes?"

Samuel fought to keep his eyelids open and nodded yes. Samantha sat on the edge of the bed holding a single piece of paper.

"Honey, I have some really big news that I know will make your day. You have always been a tit man, so I did you a gigantic favor. Remember those DD boobs we planned on?"

Samuel had a small rush of adrenalin, hoping for a reprieve and managed a squeak out a weak, "Yes."

"Well forget those. I found a way to get you upgraded to super size. The doctor has consented to give you a lovely pair of EE boobs. Isn't that exciting?"

Now fully awake, Samuel said, "How?"

"Well it is my understanding they make a small incision to the infra-mammary fold."

Laughing Samantha looked at her perplexed husband, "Oh that is not what you meant, sorry about that. You mean the ..."

Looking around to make sure no one could hear or see she shoved the paper in her hand under his nose and chatted on, "Oh the forgery was easy. A little liquid white out and a ballpoint pen you can turn a capital D into an E in a flash. Look you can't tell the difference."

'What the fuck, that was sobering!' thought Samuel suddenly wide awake. At that point, the orderlies showed up to take him away. Samantha leaned over and gave him a good luck kiss on the forehead. As his gurney reached the door he tried to sit up to protest, the orderlies firmly pushed him back.

Samantha said, "You can thank me later. I'll see you in recovery."

Sam dozed off believing his wife had just royally screwed him and not in a good way.

@ @ @ @

Waiting in the hall was Betty. "Well how'd it go?"

"It couldn't have been better. You should have seen his face; I thought there he was going to bust a blood vessel. Our timing was impeccable a few minutes later; he would have been out cold. Any earlier and he might have had the strength to get out of bed. As it is, I almost snapped him out of his anesthesia and had him running down the hall."

Grinning ear to ear Betty said, "Of all people, he will appreciate the irony of the situation. Someone trying dictate the shape of your body. I'm sure it taught him a 'BIG' lesson."

@ @ @ @

Samuel slowly came back to the land of the living; he faded into and out of consciousness. When he finally regained his full senses, Samuel knew two things for sure. One he was in considerable pain. He was afraid to move anything except his eyeballs; every twitch brought greater discomfort to his chest. Eventually he summoned the courage to look down. He thought, 'OMG, I can't even see my feet, what have they done to me?'

Two he felt totally alone, abandoned and betrayed by his wife.

Speak of the devil; at that moment Samantha made a grand entry into the room, her bout with Chicken Pox seemingly over.

"How's my brave man doing? The doctors say you were a wonderful cooperative patient. I'm so proud of you. Your procedure was a total success. The doctor said you will be up and about in a day or so."

Samuel was in no mood for childish babble, "Water."

It came out a high whispering squeak. He thought 'Oh Crap,' as his hands flew to his throat. To Samantha his distressed look spoke volumes.

"Sorry the nurses said only ice chips for now. Don't try and talk, they had to intubate you during surgery, the tube damaged the tissues surrounding your larynx. The doctor said it will take about a week to get your old voice back. You need to rest it or risk permanent damage. For now I'll talk you nod alright?"

There was a soft knock on the door. "Oh that is probably Betty. She wanted to see how you're doing. Let me go talk to her and I'll be back."

In the hall was Betty grinning ear to ear and holding a huge bouquet of roses, "How's he doing?"

"From what I can tell he appears to be in a lot of pain."

Betty smiled, "Serves him right." She followed Samantha into the room and cheerfully said, "Hi, Samuel, I have to run, just wanted to stop in and give you these."

She intentionally arranged the flowers across his chest with the fragrant buds nestled under his chin.

Samantha rebuked her friend, "Betty, I think it's more appropriate to use Sammie from now on. He needs time to adjust to his new name. Is that okay with you honey?"

She got a noncommittal shrug.

"Are you in pain?" He again shrugged.

Samantha reached out and lightly touched his bandaged bosom. Samuel winced. "Sorry honey, I can't but think that if the Chicken Pox gods hadn't interceded I would be the one suffering instead of you. It's funny how things work out."

Trying to be sympathetic she asked, "Is Sammie in pain?"

Sammie nodded yes. She handed him a cord with a button on the end. "When you feel a need for pain meds, just push the button." He grabbed the button and repeatedly pushed it like he was a contestant on Jeopardy.

"Take it easy on the drugs; I'll leave you to get some rest. They say if you are up to it you can be discharged first thing in the morning. I'll pick you up after breakfast."

Samantha leaned over and gave him a chaste kiss on the lips and heard a squeaky, "Sorry."

Samantha looked down at the face, encircled by roses and had doubts about her conduct.

"Are you sorry about the surgery?"

To Samantha's surprise he shook his head no. He pointed to his chest and managed to get out a pitiful, "Sorry I ever asked you to do this."

Samantha got the message and cried all the way to her car.

@ @ @ @

Sammie awoke the next morning with an uneasiness he couldn't describe. Wiping the sleep from his eyes he heard a sound that brought him out of his stupefaction, he propped himself up on his elbows and turned to find the source of the disturbance. It was an apparition coming through his doorway; a beautiful statuesque blonde nurse, with more curves than a Monte Carlo racetrack. With a cheerful, "Good morning," she walked in and stood and examined his chart. "How are we feeling this morning?"

Her lips twitched with a suppressed smile as she probed his chest and checked the dressings.

"Still a little uncomfortable I'll bet." She stroked his forehead and sympathetically pushed a lock of hair out of his eyes. Your breakfast will be here in a minute. I'm sorry; the doctors still have you on a liquid diet."

Samantha and Betty and stood in the door way as the attractive nurse fussed around her patient.

They stepped aside to allow her to leave as she removed the breakfast tray.

Samantha watched her husband track the curvy nurse with his eyes. She could sense the lust in his eyes.

Samuel jumped at the unexpected sound of his wife's voice. "Pretty woman isn't she Samuel?"

"If you say so, I hadn't noticed."

"Yeah and I'm the Queen of England. The question is do you view her as a conquest or as competition?"

Samuels's response was to stick his tongue out at Samantha, which prompted a giggle from her.

"I've talked to the doctor, and he is incredulous. Saying you must have a high threshold of pain. He had a heck of a time fitting those large silicone bags into your chest. He has never seen a person who underwent such a drastic transformation from Twiggy to Dolly with one procedure. He anticipated you wouldn't want to leave for several days. I explained to him that you have a business function on Friday that's a must. He agreed to release you this morning if you promise to take it easy for a couple of days."

Samuel moved his head north and south like a bobble head doll.

Betty swept in like a small typhoon and set up her work station, explaining, "We are going to keep it simple this morning. The idea is to get you to the car with as little commotion as possible. We'll do just the basics, a scrunchie for you ponytail, a light foundation, with a little blush, some mascara, and of course lipstick."

While Betty packed up her things Samantha laid out Sammie's escape attire.

"Sammie I brought a matronly housedress. It's functional if not very fashionable; but is baggy enough to allow for your oversized bosom. I've also brought knee high stockings, underpants and a pair of flats. Get dressed while I make arrangements to get you transported to the car."

Standing up, Samuel was struck again with the immense mass protruding from his chest. Cupping them with his hands he squeaked, "They're huge!"

"Silly they aren't that large, a lot of what you are holding is the heavy bandages, and there is some swelling that will go down in a few days. What will be left is exactly what we ordered."

"What you ordered you mean," corrected Samuel.

Samantha grinned mischievously, "Don't be a killjoy, D, E, or F whatever; they're really impressive. I'm going to love them; I'm sure your date will get pleasure from them too."

Samuel added snidely, "I sure hope so; I'd hate to think I went through this for nothing, other than your amusement."

"There you go being all negative again. Things will work out for the best, I'm almost positive. Now I'll leave you alone to get dressed."

Samantha returned shortly and found her husband dressed with the exception of the thong panty still residing on the unmade bed.

Staring at the sexy lingerie untouched on the sheets she said in mock anger, "Why aren't you fully dressed?

"I'm not wearing those 'stupid' panties!"

Samantha smiled and said, "Alright, let me find you some 'smart' ones."

Chuckling to herself, she reached into her bag and produced a pair of women's white cotton high-cut briefs. "These better? Would you like help?"

"Yes please."

Samantha from her knees lifted one of his feet and then the other to start the panties. Samuel couldn't see what was going on because of his protruding front porch. He could only follow the action by touch. Samantha slowly, sensually pulled the panties into place. Samuel used all his self-control to control himself and just barely managed.

Betty returned followed by an orderly pushing a wheel chair. Catching Samantha on her knees with her hands up Sammie's dress she inquired, "Should we leave you two alone and come back later?"

Sammie gave his wife a hand up and sat in the chair for the short ride to the front door.

Samantha leaned in and reminded him, "Knees together."

@ @ @ @

The ride home was uneventful, except for the occasional small moans, which filter to them from the back seat every time Samantha hit a pothole.

The car stopped in their driveway. Sammie immediately headed for his bedroom to lie down. He was intercepted by Betty while Samantha unpacked the car.

"Sammie, I know you want to hold a pity party and hide in bed for the next two days that would be an egregious mistake. We don't have time for that. You have to get your feminine deportment down faultlessly or else all this effort will be for naught. We have a lot to do and I need to get home to check on my kids. So shake a leg."

While Samantha prepared dinner, Betty put Sammie through his paces. She retrieved a pair of high heels in Samuel's size the ladies had bought on the way to the hospital. She had him stand with proper posture, feet together for several minutes before progressing to walking. Once he appeared to be tiring Betty had him practice sitting and crossing his legs in a lady like manner. Betty marveled at how rapidly Samuel morphed into the Sammie persona. She thought there were two possible explanations, being a superb athlete was one, the other she still wondered if Sammie might have made more than one appearance; but it was none of her business. After all she was here to help her friend and teach a chauvinist or two a lesson while doing it.

Lessons even continued through dinner, Sammie practiced eating and drinking like a lady under the tutelage of his two sensei masters. The entire time Betty engaged him in conversation to encourage his feminine voice. Samantha noted how fortuitous it was to have his vocal cords injured at just the right time.

Samuel wondered to himself, 'If it was more than a coincidence.' He trusted Samantha; but the thought of a conspiracy between his wife and the doctor wasn't out of the question.

After dinner, Samantha cleared the dishes and did the laundry. Curiously, Betty took her husband to the bedroom. Thirty minutes later, having completed her household chores Samantha went to get ready for bed. The door to the bedroom was still closed, though not locked. She wondered what feminine exercises required privacy. She trusted her husband and Betty so she assumed the privacy was needed. She went into the guest bathroom for her shower. While she was drying off, she heard what sounded like the front door closing.

To alleviate the guilt she was feeling for her duplicity, Samantha planned on rewarding her husband with a hedonistic night of passion, aware she would need to be careful of Samuel's newest assets. She slipped on a gossamer baby doll negligee that just caressed her posterior.

Standing at the still closed bedroom door Samantha was startled to hear voices. She was sure Betty had gone home. She tried the door and opened it just enough to peak into the room. There on the bed was a blond person - her husband? - whose hair was up in large pink curlers, wearing Samantha's favorite long lace-trimmed burgundy toga nightgown; holding a sheath of paper and talking softly in a sweet melodic soprano voice. Samantha opened the door and crossed to the bed and climbed in. Sammie continued on with what Samantha now recognized were voice exercises. Lifting the edge of the nightgown, she gave Samuel a quizzical look.

"Sorry honey, for borrowing your clothes without asking. My pajamas wouldn't fit, and this is the only nightgown of yours that provided adequate breathing room for my girls. I'll take it off if it makes you feel uncomfortable."

"No leave it on, it looks better on you than me anyway. But why the curlers?"

"That was Betty's idea, as are my bangs and eyebrows. Do you like them? I told Betty she over did my brows."

Samantha looked closely; brushed aside her husband's bangs which had hid his pencil thin arched brows.

"I agree. They're rather thin; but effectively change your face and give it a much more feminine appearance."

"Oh goody!" said Samuel in a very feminine tone, much to Samantha's disbelief.

"Samuel, please stop using that voice. The doctors warned it could permanently damage your vocal cords if you didn't rest them."

"Please don't call me Samuel anymore. I would think Sammie is more appropriate for the foreseeable future, isn't that what you told Betty?"

"Lover, it was a joke, you are still my husband. Win or lose the contract, after the dance we will get your feminine assets removed and you can go back to being my Samuel full time."

That was the catalyst that sent Samuel into hysteria. He sobbed uncontrollably and wept great rivers of tears. Samantha reached out and cradled her husband, his head in her lap. She lovingly rubbed his neck as she rocked him like a baby in a crib. She waited for Samuel to regain his composure. A considerable time later Samuel raised his head from her lap. Samantha put her arm around him and pulled him to her chest and hugged him.

"Tell me what's wrong. I can't help if I don't know what the problem is."

"Samantha you don't understand. I've been over our accounts. We can't afford another surgery. We're broke, I mean dead broke. Your shopping trip for the Valentines outfit maxed out our credit cards. I used the pink slips on both our cars for a payday loan, to handle our monthly bills. I was forced to take out a second mortgage on the house to meet payroll this month. Now we have the massive hospital bills. This surgery was not cheap, the doctor insisted his fee be paid up front (excuse the pun), paying his invoice emptied our savings account. If we don't win the new contract not only are we out of business; but we are personally bankrupt and possibly homeless. At best it will be years before we become solvent. Getting me a boob-ectomy will be way down on the priority list. I am just going to have to learn to live with these outcroppings."

Samantha continued to hold her husband, just stroking her hand along his arm. The thought of losing everything scared her as much as it did Samuel; but they had been broke before. She knew that her husband was feeling it more because not only was he in danger of losing his livelihood, his home and from his perspective his manhood all in one fell swoop, a hell of a trifecta. She loved this man who had taken her place, albeit reluctantly, in the surgery he planned for her, just to provide for her, because he loved her. She fought back tears to be his pillar of support now that he needed it so badly.

"Honey, there is only one way out of this mess. We're going to win the contract." He said with a renewed confidence. We are going to wow him with our presentation, then Sammie is going to show that old man the time of his life. The next two days I'm going to put 110% effort into perfecting my feminine persona. With your help, I will become all the woman I can be. Now hold me tight, I need my beauty sleep. Samantha rubbed her husband's shoulder over the soft robe and sang in a lullaby manner, "Worst case we will still have each other, what will be will be, we'll live on love."

All thoughts of intimacy long passed, the two slept soundly holding each other.

@ @ @ @

Sammie was awakened by a hand lovingly caressing his cheek. He felt refreshed. When he went to move he discovered his was entwined in a cocoon of silk, his head rested on his wife's lap. He pried open his eyes to observe Samantha intently watching him. Sam raised his head just enough to free his tangled hair; the rollers had somehow become dislodged during the night and said, "Good morning, a penny for your thoughts."

Then he added in a light hearted manner, "I'd offer more; but that's all we have left in our checking account."

With a perfunctory laugh she said, "I was just thinking what a pretty husband I have."

"Now wait a minute, you mean handsome!"

Samantha apologized with a smile, "Sorry, you're right. I haven't had my morning coffee yet."

She kept her thoughts to herself, 'It's surprising that the simple addition of a few pounds of flab to his chest can so drastically change my perception of him. With his centerfold figure I have a hard time viewing him as handsome.'

Samantha suddenly had an epiphany as she realized, 'Just maybe Samuel has a valid point in desiring me to look more voluptuous!'

Samuel noticed her facial expression change, he sat up taking his weight off his wife and inquired, "What is it, am I hurting you?"

"No dear, I just thought of something, I'll share it with you later. I'm hungry let's go make breakfast. You brew the coffee and toast an English muffin. I'll make us eggs and bacon."

Sammie stood and thought about changing out of his wife's nightgown but gave up when he couldn't decide what to replace it with. Entering the kitchen, his first action was to retrieve an apron from the hook in the laundry room; the last thing he wanted to spoil the day with was a dirty nightgown. Once it was on, he asked Samantha to tie it in the back, a request that brought a twinkling smile to her eyes.

Lingering over their coffee, Samantha dropped a bombshell, "I got a text from the doctor's office. The nurse will be her at 8 to check on you. If all is well, they hope to remove the heavy bandages."

"Will you be here for the unveiling? I would feel much better about it if you were."

"Wild horses couldn't keep me away. I will stay with you until Betty arrives to continue your deportment training."

Samuel suddenly felt like a puppy being potty trained; but let it go. He knew Samantha's comment had no malice in it.

Patting her lips with a napkin she went on, "Then I have to get to the office, one of us needs to be there. Let's get this mess cleaned up and go find you something more appropriate to wear."

Fifteen minutes later Sammie sat on the bed, comfortable in Samantha's clothing selection. His outfit consisted of a knee length black fleece multicolored Tartan wool skirt, with side slit pockets. The top was a white belted loose fitting cotton shirt blouse. That was fine; unfortunately because of his hulking bosom he could not fasten the top three buttons. He was wearing pantyhose for the first time. Not a totally unpleasant experience. Once the hose were up, he secured them in place at his waist. He tucked his man parts back into place and smoothed his dress back down. Then he ran his hands over his legs, slowly caressing each one.

Sammie smoothed his skirt under him and sat on the bed. Samantha knelt at his feet where she held his shoes.

Remembering back to his last unpleasant experience in heels Sammie squirmed.

"Sit still, I'll help. These slippers are Cinderella tested. They will make you feel like a fairy." Choking on her small gaff Sam continued…"Sorry, I meant to say fairy princess."

Samantha slid his manly feet into the shoes. She buckled the straps, and ensured they were securely fastened.

"Unlike your last pair of heels where you borrowed mine on New Year's Eve, these are in your size. They are nothing outlandish, just an open toed sandal with a solid three inch block heel and ankle straps for added stability.

Sammie groaned thinking back to when he spent six hours in heels. His toes hurt for days afterwards.

The doorbell rang and Samantha sprung to her feet, "Wait here, I'll bring the nurse in."

Minutes later, a stern looking woman entered carrying a black doctor's bag. She took a look around and turned her head to speak to Samantha behind her. "This will work. Please turn on the overhead light."

Turning to Sammie she said, "Young lady please stand and remove your blouse."

A deflated Sammie, totally ashamed assumed his most feminine stance and waited further instructions. The nurse opened her bag and removed a pair of bandage scissors. Before she made her first cut she turned to Samantha, "Madam, I am going to have to ask you to leave, patients privacy and all that."

"But I'm family! I'm his...umm her sister."

"Sorry rules are rules."

Samuel spoke up in his most commanding voice, "Please I would like her here. In fact I insist!"

"It's highly irregular, but alright."

Nurse Cratchit, as Sam thought of her, made quick work cutting through the ace bandages supporting Sammie's massive mammary glands. She ran her fingers under the dressings to ensure they were free. She turned Sammie to face the window for maximum light. She clasped a hold of the dressings and jokingly said, "Drum roll please."

She slowly almost maidenly so, as far as Samantha was concerned, uncovered her husband's chest. Once they were fully exposed Samantha let out an unplanned gasp. A very concerned Samuel covered his chest with his hands and turned to his wife and asked. "What's wrong?"

A very flustered and self-conscious Samantha stuttered out, "Sorry there's nothing wrong. I'm just astounded. Those are the most beautiful things I have ever seen.

The nurse gave Samantha a reproachful glance as she stepped to Sammie and reassuringly said, "I'm almost done. Relax I promise I won't do anything to hurt you. I need to give you a simple breast exam. It's nothing any young woman like you hasn't experienced a dozen times."

Sammie flinched as the nurse reached up and placed her cold hands on Sammie's newly minted boobs. Samuel stood there, and held his breath, nervous as the nurse gently moved his breasts from side to side and up and down. Then, when Samuel thought it was finished, she squeezed them like she was checking ripe fruit.

"I just had to check that no seepage had taken place. Just one more thing then I'll be done."

The nurse reached up and pinched each nipple in turn, and watched for a reaction from her patient, saying, "I needed to make sure they retained their sensitivity, are you having any problems?"

"Problems, you've got to be kidding? You have grafted beach balls on my chest that are as heavy as two sandbags. What possible problems could I be having?"

Samantha stood there the entire time with an enigmatic smile and said, "Let me apologize for her. She is a bit high strung and I'm sure didn't mean anything by that. You have done an awe-inspiring job. Her body makes Aphrodite jealous. They are perfectly symmetrical, with no sage or droop at all. They're faultless. Samantha briefly wondered what she would have looked like if Samuels's original plan had gone through.

Nurse Cratchit lifted one breast and let it fall. "The skin is still taut and they will remain perky like that for a while. However the large size and weight of the implants will cause them to sag eventually. I wouldn't recommend her going without a good support bra, the consequences can be severe."

Samantha rummaged through dresser and produced a white lacy bra, holding it up she said "Got that covered."

Samantha threw the bra at Sammie and said, "Put that on while I show the nurse out."

Samantha returned to find her husband standing in the exact same spot staring at the bra.

"Why haven't you put it on?"

"There must be some mistake; the label says this is size 40 DD. You gave me EE size implants. This will never fit.

Samantha broke out in a belly laugh, "April Fools!"

A confused Samuel said; "But it's February?"

"Sam, I would never modify your body without your permission. It was only a practical joke."

Sam glared at his wife, "Do you see me laughing?"

Samantha momentarily panicked and thought she may have gone too far.

Samuel broke the tension by saying, "Touché, I owe you one. Would you help me with my new bra?"

Betty showed up minutes after Samantha left for work.

Betty took one look at his footwear, the same ones he wore last night and asked his opinion on them.

Samuel commented to Betty he thought the shoes felt extremely clumsy, but were very practical.

Her response was, "I'm glad we agree they are unacceptable for today's exercises."

Sam thought, 'I never said that.'

"I understand you've had some experience in high heels so we aren't starting from scratch. Today you'll wear the sleek stilettos you help Samantha pick out."

"You can't be serious, those things will be impossible to walk in. You'll never get my feet to fit in them. Her unsympathetic response was, "We ladies are way ahead of you. That's where I went this morning. I exchanged them for your size. With your limited experience in heels this high, I expect your first steps to be a little awkward, after a short-time you will be walking taller and more serene in these heels. Indeed, all heels naturally re-align the body into a more feminine shape by shifting the weight onto the balls of the feet and pushing the buttocks slightly out. Our objective over the next two days is to teach you to walk with catwalk confidence."

"Let's get you out of those training wheels and into your dancing shoes."

Once she finished lashing them to his feet. Sammie complained, "These aren't very comfortable."

Betty chuckled, "Sammie, five inch heels that are comfy? They don't exist! We'll have to work with what we have."

Sammie stood up in the tendon-stretching shoes, and nearly pitched over forward. He sat back down totally embarrassed. He stood again, this time Betty held out her hand to aid him in standing. Sam felt the subtle changes, the reshaping of his legs, thighs and tummy. Flushed with the success of standing Sam tried a single step, and stumbled.

Betty laughed and saved him from falling.
A disheartened Samuel, thought back to the endless hours of schooling for New Year Eve and wondered if they were all for nothing. Then he said to Betty, "I'm glad you're enjoying my humiliation. Samantha drilled me endlessly in walking in heels; those were 3 inch pumps with a chunky heel, does two inches make that much difference in how a woman walks?"

Betty though, 'Actually this is fun.' But she said instead, "Don't worry about one small stumble. Mastering stilettos is essential to get the most out of your feminine persona. Despite your previous experience it will take some getting used to tottering around with the added height. We'll concentrate on the basics."

For almost an hour Sam did nothing but stand erect in his new footwear, concentrating on his posture and bearing, while practicing his feminine voice. Eventually, Betty advised, "Try to walk across the room, remember, to stand up straight with your shoulders back. Walk heel to toe with small steps and strides."

Samuels's first steps were tentative and a tad unstable, until his confidence grew.

"Remember Sammie, women walk slower and more graceful than men, think of a slowly flowing stream. Your head must not move, keep it still as you walk. Train yourself to place the heel of the foot down first, then your toes, keep most of your weight balanced on the ball of your foot rather than on the heel. It may feel strange, but keeping much of your weight on the ball of the foot gives you more of an elegant stride. It's almost like walking on your tippy-toes. Keep your legs, feet and knees as close together as you can. Take steps half as long as you would normally. Imagine a white line projecting from your position to your destination. Concentrate on stepping on that line. Your footprints should form a single line. Don't make your strides too large as this will make you look awkward and ungraceful. However avoid taking just baby steps. Remember to swing your hips."

The next hour was spent strolling about the room in heels. His tentativeness soon turned to self-assurance.

Sam's athletic background became apparent, once he stopped thinking about each movement and let his natural gracefulness takeover he had the walk down like he had been doing it his entire life. He wasn't ready for the catwalk, but he strutted in heels better than most housewives' and his posture was superb. He paraded across the room with a womanly wiggle to his hips without having to force it. This gave his body that characteristic swing. Sam was delighted at himself.

"Well how'd I do?"

"I'm your coach not your cheerleader. Keep practicing until it becomes second nature."

Sam was kept on his feet until Samantha arrived home, with takeout Chinese. The rest of the night was spent on sitting and standing in heels. This time both women provided critical feedback. Samantha took over as head mistress by lecturing, "Position yourself with the back of your calves next to the chair. Bend at the hips and knees. Smooth your skirt under you, keeping your legs together at all times. Then swivel into position. Sit down with your legs straight in front of you. Angle your knees to either side, left or right, whatever. Cross your ankles. When there is no table, fold your hands together in your lap."

Sammie mastered that in a matter of minutes.

For a real treat he was allowed to sit long enough to practice crossing his legs at the knees a hundred times.

He topped off this exercise with a dramatic dangle of a stiletto on one toe. He thought, 'A hot bath is going to fill great.'

Betty leaned in to Samantha and commented, "I am astounded how rapidly he is picking all this up. I wouldn't want my husband around Sammie. Aren't you the least bit surprised at his transformation?"

"In December our company was enmeshed in a malaise of mediocrity. I decided we needed to do something to break that cycle. Samuel was the first to suggest a costume party. I even scrounged up a set of life like boobs and glued them onto my husband. You should have seen him at the party, all decked out, he was a living doll. I came up with the idea for us to dress alike, thinking it would be good for morale; Samuel would prance around like a cheap drag queen. He took everyone by surprise. It was like he had a personality transplant. My normal introspective husband turned into a social butterfly. He repeatedly made his way across the room, smiling and flirting with everyone. He would sit and shared bits and pieces of non-important information in his Sammie persona, which shocked and amused our employees. People were attracted to him in droves."

"He had way too much to drink, he claims to remember almost nothing of the night - I can attest to the fact he had a three-day hangover. He even shut down the party, having finished the last of the tequila. He climbed onto the bar and did a very respectable imitation of Coyote Ugly table dance."

"He embarrassed the hell out of me; but his performance received great accolades and a standing ovation. That's a long way of answering your question, no I am not surprised."

The womanification of Samuel continued long into the evening. Samantha and Betty became bored, Sammie had ceased to make obvious errors and they had nothing to do but watch and heap praise on his performance. Samantha yawned and suggested they all call it a night and Sammie was sent to the bedroom. Sam and Betty chatted for a few minutes and discussed the day's exercises. "Sam, he is as ready as he will be. You have that presentation for the client in the morning right?"

"Yes, at 9 a.m."

"I suggest you get a good night's sleep."

Sam smiled devilishly, "Betty I need something to help me sleep and it's not Lunesta. What with me being angry at Sam and then being sick, I haven't had a good romp in the hay for almost two weeks. Normally Samuel is the aggressive one, not tonight. I'm going to be a lioness and devour him like a lonely antelope in the Serengeti."

Betty blushed, she and her husband only made love on the weekends. "Alright, be careful not to break anything. How about we meet for lunch after your presentation? We can meet at our favorite restaurant. Cheeseburgers on me."

Samantha changed into a silk leopard print nightgown. Used eyeliner and heavy eye shadow to created cat eyes and then heavily dosed herself with her best perfume. Stood at the bedroom door, didn't see any light shining under the door and thought, 'That's perfect; I prefer to hunt in the dark.'

She swung open the door and pounced in prepared to wake her husband with a growl. All she got out was Greee.... To her surprise the room wasn't dark. There were a dozen aroma candles strategically placed around the room. On top of satin sheets was her husband wearing a bold red gossamer, diaphanous, hell it was transparent teddy and matching panties. His blond locks were fanned out on the pillow; he had on a heavy coat of red lipstick that complimented his outfit.

Samantha slowly took stock of her husband; her eyes magically focused on his magnificent chest. It was obvious he was anticipating her arrival. His cock was painfully tumescent and stretched his panties to their limit, plus his nipples stood up like two proud pillars of flesh as if calling to her. To exacerbate the situation, Sammie arched his back and pushed his chest out to emphasize his assets.

The material, rather than flow over his chest, stuck to his every curve like a competitor in a wet t-shirt contest. Samantha was proudly heterosexual but looking at those breast and perky nipples made her very uncomfortable and created a small tingle between her legs. Samantha cautiously climbed into bed and hungrily gazed at her husband. To be on the safe side, she made sure to keep a respectful space between them. "Samuel, where did you get that outfit?"

"Do you like it?"

"First answer my question."

"I ordered it out of a catalog. It's a little small, particularly on top, because I got to fit you. My plan was to give it to you as a Valentine gift. You and Betty seem so enamored with my feminine persona that I thought I would surprise you. I love being a man and your husband, but there is something about this female pretending that resonates within me. I found this hidden in my drawer when I was looking for something to sleep in. I thought it would make me desirable to you. Please tell me you like it?"

"Like it, I love it. I just wish I were the one wearing it."

Seeing her husband's look of disappointment, she went on, "It does a marvelous job of accentuating your feminine charms. It was just not what I was expecting. In all truthfulness I find you are extremely sexy."

Surprisingly his response was, "Sexy as your husband or as a woman?"

Samantha crinkled her nose in a sign of confusion, "What possible difference would that make?"

Sammie rolled on his side to face his wife, which sent his bust quivering, "All the difference in the world. I'm so conflicted. Tell me, do you want me to be a man or a woman? I'm not sure how I view myself right now. I've been researching Mr. von Goethe on the net. He can have any woman he wants. I am trying as hard as I can. What if he doesn't find me attractive and desirable? I remember back to dressing for our party, I felt comfortable pretending to be your double. I saw the look in some guy's eyes, they were fooled. But this is for real. If I blow this, it would destroy our entire company. I've made a momentous decision. I'll have sex with him if that's what it takes."

"Samuel P. Johansson! You'll do no such thing. You're not a whore! If we have to start over again so be it. But we'll do it together and with our pride and your virginity in tack.

Sammie started trembling and broke out in a sweat. "Sam, are you alright?"

He was gasping for air, he barely got out, "I think I'm going crazy. I can't breathe and my heart is racing."

Samantha wrapped her arms around him and pulled him held him as tight as she could. "Relax honey; you're just having a panic attack." She tenderly cupped one breast with her hand lifting it she whispered into his ear. "Sammie, relax you are more woman than any man could handle."

The two lovers spent the night content with the closeness of their partner.

@ @ @ @

The next morning Sammie resisted opening his eyes. It had been a restless night filled with bad dreams. In the he wore a magnificent floor length ball gown and danced with a handsome prince charming when unexpectedly he was unmasked as a fraud and forced to flee amid peals of laughter from those around him.

Sammie reached out for his wife only to find the bed empty and the sheets cold. With a great deal of effort he pried open his eyes. The room was dimly lit. Sammie could tell there was a light on in the family room. He got out of bed and shivered. His gossamer nightgown provided minimum protection from the early morning chill. He warped his arms tightly under his breasts for warmth, slipped on a pair of Samantha's fuzzy slippers and headed out to find his wife.

He could hear her talking just before he entered the family room. Listening he could hear her clearly rehearsing her presentation. To his surprise, as he stepped through the door, Samantha stood clad in loafers, levies, a wool work shirt and a baseball cap to keep the hair out of her eves. She wielded a pointer like a rapier, and forcefully struck the chart to make a point. Looking up she saw her husband standing meekly in the door. The contrast in the dress was instantaneously obvious to both.

Samuel cringed and blushed as red as his negligee and began to apologize and turned to leave. In two large strides Samantha reached him. "Don't leave honey, I need you to listen and tell me what you think."

"I'm still wearing your nightie; I look ridiculous and need to change."

"Nonsense. You look fetching. I couldn't sleep and got up early to practice. I hope I didn't wake you. Make us some coffee and sit. If I can keep my concentration with you in the audience dressed like that, I'll have it made."

Sammie made each of them a strong cup of coffee and curled up on a recliner sitting on his feet like he had seen his wife do many times before.

Samantha ran through her briefing twice more before she announced it was time to get changed.

"What do you want me to do during the briefing?" inquired Sammie.

"Why I thought it would be obvious, you'll be support staff and secretary. Make yourself invisible and just take notes. I don't want Mr. von Goethe to even notice you, for now."

"Why can't I just stay home then?"

"There's a possibility he may ask something I can't answer. I want you there just in case."

Samantha dressed in a very profession pink tinted dress suit, with light but feminine makeup. In contrast, she had Sammie wear a very confining sports bra to deemphasize his chest. Samantha pulled his hair into a phony tail his only makeup was colored lip-gloss. She had him wear an off white loose fitting blouse, and a pair of slacks, with white saddle shoes. All intended to deflect attention.

Thirty minutes later, they plus Mary, Samuel's assistant helped set up the conference room. Unexpectedly Max walked in twenty minutes early. "I know I'm early but that is how I operate trying to catch people unprepared. I'm Wolfgang von Goethe, who might you ladies be?"

"Let me welcome you sir, my name is Mrs. Samantha Johansson, but please call me Sam, everyone around here does."

"A bit informal isn't it?"

"Yes sir it is; but that is the way we operate. I don't believe in a rigid command structure. We are all one big happy family. I can assure you it doesn't diminish our end product, plus it has the advantage of creating a more pleasant working environment.

"Let me introduce Mrs. Mary Williams. She is the head of our financial department."

"That's strange I was told that is the position held by your husband."

"Technically you're correct, but he is nothing more than a glorified bookkeeper. Mary is the one I turn to for advice and guidance. On paper, Samuel owns 50% of the company; but I'm the one that runs the place. As they say the buck stops here."

"I would still like to meet him."

"I'm sorry sir, he is recovering from surgery."

"Nothing serious I hope."

"No sir, it was just some minor cosmetic surgery. It is a procedure he has waited his whole life for and couldn't postpone it."

Max turned to Sammie, who stood in the back trying to blend into the wallpaper. "And who is this lovely lady?"

Samantha stepped in front of Sammie and spoke, "She's no one important just a temporary secretary, here to take notes. Should we get started?"

"No, I would like a tour of your offices first if you don't mind."

As the small group reached the door Samantha turned and ordered, "While we're out set up coffee and refreshments. I expect it all to be here up by the time we return."

They were gone a while and Sammie was concerned the coffee would be cold before they returned. So he reheated it to make sure it was hot.

They filed back into the room and Sammie took a seat in the back of the room and broke out a notebook. Before Samantha conducted her brief she ordered Sammie to serve everyone. He was extremely nervous and uncomfortable as a servant. So, sure enough, when he handed Mr. von Goethe his cup he spilt the burning hot liquid on his lap. Aghast at his actions, Sammie profusely apologized and went to get a cold towel. Upon his return, he found Samantha administering to him. Sammie handed the towel to his wife. Aware of Mr. von Goethe's reputation as a strict disciplinarian, she felt it necessary to make a show of punishing her husband/secretary. She launched into an attack. "Girl you are a clumsy fool. You're fired, get your things and get out of my sight." Sammie again apologized, Samantha merely pointed to the door.

Head down, Samuel headed for the door and wondered how he could go from husband and owner, to bookkeeper, to secretary, to being fired all in one morning.

Before he reached the door Max stood and said, "Stop young lady, you aren't going anywhere."

Turning to Samantha he said, "If you fire people for merely making a mistake I won't have to hear your briefing I'm leaving."

Samantha, thinking on her feet, defended herself, "Sir, the girl scalded you. I am not strict with my staff but people must be held accountable for their actions."

Max walked over to the coffee pot poured himself another cup the immediately proceeded to spill some on his pant leg. "Am I going to be held accountable Mrs. Johansson? Or can this lady resume her duties and we can get on with the briefing?"

Sammie resumed his seat at the rear, crossed his legs in a ladylike manner and proceeded to take notes. Sammie was impressed with professional manner in which his wife conducted her presentation, she covered their cooperate structure in great detail, their current staffing, and spent a long time on their marketing plan. She stumbled a bit when she discussed their financial reserves. Max immediately picked up on that and asked pointed questions, Samantha was unable to answer. She turned to Mary for help, who provided only a partial answer. Samuel took a chance and wrote the numbers on a piece of paper and waved them in the air to get Mary's attention. She had to squint but was able to read them.

Max looked at his Rolex watch and announced he had another appointment but would like to continue discussions tomorrow after the party. Times were set and he left the room apparently pleased with what he heard. Mary started to clean up the room. Samantha asked her to leave that for now, she wanted to have a private chat with Sammie.

Samuel thought 'Oh shit what have I done now?'

Once the door was closed, Samantha asked, "Well, what did you think?"

"One question. Whaddya mean by the crack about me being nothing but a gloried bookkeeper?"

Samantha ran to Samuel and threw her arms around him. "I'm sorry for that charade. Can you forgive me? I hated demeaning your significance as my partner. It was the only way I could think of to explain your absence."

"And firing me? I hate to admit it, but you about had me in tears."

Samantha threw her arms around Sammie and hugged him so hard it took his breath away. "From what I've read, Max is old school. I needed to demonstrate as a woman I had the balls to make hard decisions. Grab your purse we have to go. We're meeting Betty for lunch."

@ @ @ @

The couple found Betty at BK standing in line waiting to order. She turned to Samantha and said, "Your usual, I assume, and how about you Sammie? Cheeseburgers all around?"

"No thank you, I'll just have a small salad and a glass of water."

Both women spoke in unison, "What!"

Sammie stood up tall and sucked in his stomach, "Have you ladies seen that dress I have to squeeze into?"

Both smiled in empathy. Samantha threw away their trash and explained they had to get home as it would take all afternoon to convert Sammie from a mousy secretary to a super diva. Betty stood and said, "You'll do no such thing. My treat, I have made reservations for Sammie at my beauty parlor."

Samantha drove them all to the spa but couldn't find a parking spot. Betty took Sammie's hand and dragged him into the shop while Samantha waited in the car double parked. Samuel was in dread of what was to happen. Passing under the store sign, The Hair & Beauty Boutique, in his mind Samuel read as 'Abandon all hope ye who enter here.'

Betty did a quick handoff to Sophie, the owner. He was told to be a good girl and do what he was told. Left with no phone, money or a way home, Samuel resigned himself to his fate.

Five minutes later Betty came bounding back to the car. "Come on Sam. We've three hours to kill. Let's go window shopping at the mall."

"Betty, I don't feel right just leaving Samuel alone in there. What if his true identity was uncovered?"

"Don't worry about that. The owner is a close friend. I told her all about Samuel. She will watch out for him and ensure he gets the full experience."

"What are they going to do to him?"

"I really debated that. At first I was inclined to have the bridal makeover, but after a lot of thought, Sophie and I decided to go with the glamour showgirl package. Wait until you see the finished product, you won't recognize him. I took a picture of his dress with my cell phone, so they can color coordinate his makeup. He is going to make an adorable fairy princess."

"Please tell me they aren't doing anything permanent to my husband."

Betty got a mischievous grin on her face and replied, "That all depends on your definition of permanent. He is getting 30 inch hair extensions woven into his shoulder length hair that will last for several months; he is getting showgirl length acrylic fingernails, and permanent eyelash extensions."

"What!"

"Relax. Permanent is a misnomer. Individual lashes are glued onto his own lashes top and bottom, and in theory the extensions should last as long as his own lash, which inevitably will fall out when it gets to the end of its lash cycle, so yes it is permanent until his lash falls out but in reality they are best described as semi permanent."

As they drove off, Sammie was seated and a trio of young girls descended on him. One washed his hair followed by a scalp massage in preparation for hair extensions; one soaked his hands in warm soapy water to prepare them for the fake nails, the third gently rubbed moisturizer into his face. Samuel sat there in a glow. He had never been pampered like this and found he liked it.

Samuel watched each step in the mirrors arrange around his chair. He had a front row seat for his metamorphosis into a beautiful butterfly. He was actually disappointed when Sophie told him he was done and to stand outside as his wife would pick him up curbside.

Samuel entered this womanly sanctum feeling like a shy, timid insecure man in a dress. He proudly marched out the front door feeling as if he really was beautiful and confident woman.

Samantha pulled her car into a spot right at the front exit; they were a few minutes early. She scrutinized each woman leaving trying to pick out her husband. She was flabbergasted to see a woman emerge with face of a starlet and hair flowing down her back like a golden waterfall.

If it hadn't been for the frumpy dress, Samantha would never have recognized the goddess as Samuel. His face was framed by two long tendrils that lightly swayed below his chin. His trembling lips were covered in cotton candy pink lipstick to match the color on his acrylic nail, his eyes were outlined in heavy jet-black and accentuated with long extra thick glamour length false lashes, his lids were dramatically adorned in smoky grays and pinks.

Betty tried to restrain Sam, but she squirmed in her seat and couldn't wait any longer, she left the motor running and ran to her spouse. She gave him a hug that actually lifted him off his feet. Embarrassed at his reception, Sammie wiggled himself free and asked, "What do you think?"

Samantha composed herself and replied, "You look trannylicious! Your makeup is a bit dramatic for daytime, however it will be perfect for tonight, and I wouldn't change a thing. You are going to be the most stunning woman at the party. How do you feel?"

Samuel started to remind her he wasn't a woman, but he felt so pretty the compliment felt right.

"My eyelashes weigh a ton and my hair is so long I could be Rapunzel. But I feel so feminine. I can see how this pampering can become habit forming. This is one experience I'll always remember."

Sam snuggled into her husband’s arms and whispered in his ear, "Vanity they name is woman. I love the new you. I guarantee this is a day you will never forget."

Then she kissed his ear ever so briefly. A radiant Sammie stood transfixed. "Now let's get you home to get changed for the ball. It's considered bad form to keep your prince charming waiting."

Samantha raced around to the driver's door. Sammie learned two quick lessons, nails as long as his were a handicap. As he struggled with the door handle Betty added, "That is one reason we let the man open doors for us."

Sammie climbed into the back seat and immediately experienced painful lesson number two as he sat on his hair. Holding it up, he scooted into the seat. Samantha dropped Betty off at her car and drove home at Mach 3.

@ @ @ @

"Get undressed completely and put on the antiperspirant on the sink." Sammie stood in the center of the room au natural and felt ever so vulnerable. Samantha knelt at his feet holding a lump of flesh colored material. "Sammie we're going to start with your knickers. Initially I was going to dress you in a slinky piece of fluff; but I thought better of it. What I have here is called shape wear. It is firm elastic that will lift your butt and give it a more feminine shape. Plus, it will control your little secret. Don't look so forlorn they are nothing more than bicycle shorts."

As he helped Samantha wrestle them in place, he took refuge in her words and felt a sense of manliness about bike shorts. Until he got a good look and saw all the tiny red rosettes embroidered on them. "Aren't they a bit sissy looking?"

"And just who do you intend to show them to Samuel? They're functional, that's what counts. Now for your next foundation garment."

Samantha held up a stunning pink and silver brocade waist cincher again with a pattern of shiny red roses woven into the fabric. She said in a devilish giggle "Sammie, this is for you. You may find it a tad uncomfortable; it has extra heavy boning and is called in some circles a training corset. It was designed specifically for me. This will sculpt you into the traditional hourglass figure, so you can fit into my dress. I would guess the corset will be a smidgen small on you as it was selected to squeeze me into 'that' dress you selected. If we try real hard, it will accomplish the same thing for you. You may not like it; but since you aren't making the decisions right now, that is irrelevant."

Samuel started to complain; Samantha recognized his reluctance and said, "I'm sorry, that was harsh. This is your last chance to back out. I'll understand if that is what you want. If not, I expect nothing but your full cooperation from here on out."

"I realize I can't keep vacillating, it's all in time. Go for it. I'll do everything you ask."

Sam wrapped the cincher around Samuel and hooked up the front. At first it was just a little snug. As Sam began to tighten the laces, Samuel's apprehension began to grow. As she tightened the laces she kept up the mantra, "Resistance is futile."

What had been pleasantly tight quickly became a crushing force. With every tug Sammie squealed and let out a little gasp "Ooh", much to Samantha's concern. Samuel's waist molded like it was made of jell-o. As the gap in the flaps narrowed, he wanted to yell stop, there just wasn't sufficient air in his lungs to do more than whisper. His breathing became labored.

Samuel wheezed, "I can't breathe, I am going to faint. Can we take a break?"

"Oh, no worries, my little princess, I came prepared and brought smelling salts. Just concentrate on breathing with the upper portion of chest and take small shallow breathes."

Samantha became red faced from exertion as she pulled and tugged with all her might. She paused to catch her breath and produced a tape. She measured Samuel's waist and proudly announced, "Down to 23 inches, congratulations your waist is now smaller than mine." Samuel was allowed a few minutes to regulate his breathing while Sam went into the bathroom and got them both a glass of water.

"Feeling better are we? Now I will finish lacing you down. Another inch should do it."

In a whisper Samuel pleaded, "Please have mercy, I feel like my ribs are going to break. I've started to lose feeling in my legs."

Her only response was to put her knee in his back and pull the laces tighter.

Samuel struggled for every breath. Sam finally announced that she was finished and knotted the laces.

She had Sammie face the mirror. "My, that corset really gives you a curvy figure. That is just the look you so admired? How does it feel from that side of the corset?"

"It feels like a vice."

"Get used to it. No pain, no gain. We woman have to suffer to look attractive. Isn't that the look you so admired?"

"But I am not a woman!"

"Could have fooled me! Take a good look in the mirror and tell me what you see. I see only a feminine form; no sign of a man thing between your legs, glorious hair flowing down your back, and the face of an angel. Max could walk in right now and see nothing but woman."

She pulled up a chair and had Samuel sit for his nylons. "Oh Sammie, you are going to love these fishnet stockings, how many times have you asked me to wear something like these? They are the prettiest stockings I've seen in ages. They will help you look your best on this, your special day. They are ultra feminine; just make sure you keep the seam straight. They will add a touch of sexiness to your outfit. They are the perfect accessory for the party."

Samuel thought, 'What she really means is my coming out party. God this is so emasculating. Before it was just a costume party; no big deal. This is more like a real girl primping for a real date.'

"We're almost there; it's time for your brassiere. Remember when you picked it out and how excited you were at the way it would display my breasts?"

Samantha stood behind her husband and wrestled with the padded bra trying to get it fastened. She now regretted getting a 38 instead of a 40. She eventually got all four hooks secured and prayed they would hold. Looking over Sammie's shoulder to the mirror she could see the bra really pressed his tits together. It created an amazingly deep cleavage line. It lifted the soft breast tissue up into the top of the cups, and left the jiggling skin perched where it threatened to spill out of the bra.

Samuel did a shoulder shimmy, which sent tideway's of flesh rippling across his chest. Then to Samantha relief, he joked, "Look my cups runneth over." Then thought, 'This is what I always wanted Samantha to look like? I had always believed a lady would be delighted to be endowed with a bust like this. So why do I feel like a total tramp with hooters this large?"

"Okee dokee, let's get your dress on."

Samantha laid the dress on the floor and opened it so Sammie merely had to step into the center. Sam pulled the garment up and Sammie slid his arms into the sleeves. He watched his refection in pure terror. There was no vestige of a man anywhere. He acknowledged intellectually he should be ashamed; but rather than shame or embarrassment he was enchanted with what he saw. He really did feel like a princess.

Samantha did up the twelve small buttons in the back securing the gown onto her husband, knowing he wasn't getting out of that without help. She fluffed his hair out, attached the long earrings and moved to the front to adjust the top for maximum exposure.

In the process, she reached into his bra and adjusted the tender, or so sensitive, flesh in their cups. The fleeting caress of her fingers, were enough to set his thighs quivering, his legs turned to jello. Having the gown sit just where she wanted it, as a final token of affection Samantha tantalizingly swept her finger tips across his exposed breast.

With legs locked, and jaws clenched he struggled to contain himself. Just when he thought he had won the battle, Samantha bent a placed a kiss in the cleft of his bosom. His breasts rose and fell with each juddering breath. Eventually a nasal grunt betrayed him; he was wracked in the throes of a small but still palatable orgasm. There was no way Samantha could have missed what happened so he merely said, "God you must think me a wanton hussy!"

With a satisfied smile on her face, she replied, "Why whatever do you mean?"

She retrieved his stilettos and knelt at his feet. "Give me your foot, I have put this off as long as I could, after all high heels are a rite of passage into womanhood, just like her first orgasm."

Samantha secured the shoes, stood, and picked up a clutch purse of the dresser. She spayed a heavy cloud of perfume around her husband, allowed it to permeate her clothing then said, "I do believe you are ready. Wait we are forgetting one important item. Your words if I remember, you are an unattached, available female for tonight remember. No rings allowed."

Samantha picked up her husband's left hand and tried to slide his wedding ring off. A brief but ineffectual tug of war ensued. She lifted his hand to her face and slid his ring finger into her mouth, where she copiously lubricated his finger with her saliva. The ring now slid off. She put it away safely in her jewelry box.

"Now skiddaddle, while I get dressed. You shouldn't keep your man waiting. Oh wait, don't forget your purse. I have it packed with all the essentials a young lady requires. There's lipstick, a comb, small bottle of perfume, a sanitary pad for those surprise discharges, and of course protection in case Max well you know..."

"Protection! Samantha you're driving me mad! Besides I always thought it was the man's responsibility to provide those items."

Samantha fell down laughing, "Get your mind out of the gutter. I put a stun gun in there in case Max threatens your virtue."

In contrast to her husband's flowing locks she elected to pull her hair back in a severe bun. The only thing that kept her from looking like the stereotypical librarian was the lack of horn rim glasses. Looking like a complete frump just was not something that she could accept, so she had added a bit of bling by wearing her cubic zirconium faux diamonds. Everything except her wedding and engagement rings. Sammie, under the guise of being a bachelorette had to leave his at home, Sam thought it only apropos she did likewise.

@ @ @ @

Librarian Samantha stood with her husband in their entry way to provide moral support. A knock came as a surprise, Sammie about pissed his panties. Samantha answered the door and hoped her husband would hide in the close while she was away. Opening the door Sam found Max, in an expensive Armani suit, holding a bouquet of yellow and red roses.

With a confused look on his face, Max said, "Mrs. Johansson, am I at the correct address? This is where I was told to go to pick up my date."

"Yes, sir. At Sammie's request, I came over to help her get dressed for tonight's activities."

Max looked around Samantha and immediately recognized the young lady cowering in the hall. "Does the president always provide personal services for lowly secretaries, especially after threatening to fire them?"

"Mr. von Goethe, as I insinuated before we are not a normal company. I sadly admit I lost my temper this morning but there are no hard feelings. Sammie and I are closer than sisters. There isn't anything I wouldn't do for her."

Max held out the flowers and reached out toward Sammie. "Miss, I brought these for you. I now regret bringing them. Your beauty puts them to shame."

Sammie took the flowers and blushed at the compliment. "Thank you Mr. von Goethe, your gallantry is appreciated. Mrs. Johansson, could you please entertain my guest; while I put these in water?"

Sammie disappeared into the kitchen and Max commented, "She certainly has transformed from the woman I encountered this morning."

"Yes, she does clean up nice. I think you will like her. She is really a nice girl, if a little shy; but she has been with the company from the very beginning. Feel free to ask her about us".

"Has she been briefed on what to say and not to say?"

"Absolutely not, she is her own person and will be as truthful and informative as she can. You have my word on that."

Sammie returned at that moment. To Max's delight, she had cut one of the yellow flowers and pinned it in her hair. "Now if you will excuse us we have reservations."

"Where, may I ask?"

"Le restaurant des Quatre Saisons, I'm told it is the finest French restaurant in the area."

"It is sir, the cuisine is excellent."

Then with a wink she said to Sammie, "Be a good girl Sammie and have fun. I'll be around, come say hello."

Max gave Sammie his arm and walked her to the waiting limo. The wind blew Sammie's hair out behind her like the tail of a comet. Max waited until she was seated inside and waved good bye to Samantha.

Samantha got on the phone and called Betty who was waiting around the corner. "Come-on girl, step on it, I don't want to lose them."

There weren't a lot of stretch limos on the streets so it wasn't difficult tailing them. They pulled up at the restaurant and from across the street the girls watched Max give Sammie his hand and help her into the bistro. Samantha gave them 15 minutes and then followed into the club. Samantha took a seat at the bar and scanned the dining room. She had a glass of wine, fended off two advances and then located her husband in a booth in a secluded corner. She asked directions to the ladies room and casually strolled to it, keeping her focus on their table. Much to Samantha's surprise she observed Sammie snuggle up to Max and grab his bicep with both hands and lay her head on his shoulder. Just before entering the lavatory she heard Sammie giggle like a schoolgirl at something her date said. Samantha stalled as long as she could before leaving. A strategically placed plant provided her cover as she moved closer to the table. Sammie looked up and made eye contact. Then reached up and fingered her earring which was their prearranged all clear signal. Samantha turned to leave and bumped into Betty. "Sorry I had to see for myself. It appears Sammie is willing to do anything to get ahead."

They headed back to Betty's car. She drove Sam to the club for the party.

@ @ @ @

Nancy had been in charge of making sure that the party was setup. As one of the owners, Samantha was the de facto hostess and only needed to be present to welcome the guests as they arrived. She had been at the party for hours and she was getting concerned something might have happened when Sammie finally appeared with Max. She had to deflect a few inquiries about Samuel's whereabouts by telling them that he was meeting with a special client. There were only a few people who were privy to the knowledge that Samuel, in the guise of Sammie, would be here at the party with that special client.

Max and Sammie slipped in almost unnoticed as the party was in full swing. Even Sam missed them at first and she had been watching for them. The band was playing some lively tunes and the dance floor was over overcrowded. There were almost five hundred people congregated around the various food tables, the open bars in the corners, or out on the dance floor, the entire company had shown up for this party, everyone brought a plus one, no one wanted to be alone on Valentine's Day. The resulting din was just short of stupefying.

Samantha's first glimpse of her husband was just a blur; he was out on the dance floor, being whirled around by his date. She watched for several minutes and observed that Sammie appeared to be having a good time. Samantha and Samuel enjoyed dancing and it appeared that Max was an aficionado as well.

As she watched her husband in the arms of another man, laughing and having fun, Samantha's jealousy reached the boiling point. In honor of the romantic holiday the band played a Danube Waltz. Max led his date around the floor like an expert and Sammie followed with surprising feminine grace. The thought occurred to her when, 'She ever got her husband back, she would have to take the lead once in a while. It looked like Samuel followed as well as he led.'

Samantha was finally able to make eye contact with her husband. Holding up her purse Samantha gestured to the ladies bathroom. The two arrived and Sammie asked what Samantha wanted. She merely shushed him and said, "Wait until were alone inside." Away from the racket, and alone, Samantha led Sammie to the sinks and vanity mirrors. Opening her purse she took out a lipstick and chastised Sammie for having to be reminded to refreshing his own." Finishing her own lips Samantha asked, "Well is he or isn't he?"

"Why whatever do you mean?"

"Don't play games with me Samuel, I'm in no mood. I saw the way you threw yourself at Max. Is he a sexist pig or not?"

"I can't say with certainty. As you say I threw myself at him and gave him every opportunity to respond. So far he has been nothing but a perfect gentleman. He has kept his hands to himself and when we talk he looks me in the eye. I can't tell if it is because he is a gentleman or he just doesn't find me alluring."

"Why Samuel, I do believe you are getting a man crush on him."

Before Sammie could respond the door opened and a gaggle of giggling girls flew in and greeted Samantha.

Sammie took the opportunity to politely excuse himself. After a brief search, he found his date involved in a lively conversation at one of the tables. Sammie reached for his hand, "Max, let's dance. You aren't tired already?"

Finally, the band took a break and Max and Sammie made their way to an empty table. Sam decided that this was a good time to formally greet the guest of honor. She held back until Max had seated Sammie and she stepped forward to reintroduce herself. To ensure there was a contrast between her and her husband, she wore a conservative grey business suit. She had darkened her makeup somewhat to slightly change her look.

"Mr. von Goethe?" She stopped just outside what she judged to be his personal space, yet close enough to be heard over the drone of noise in the room.

Max turned toward the severely dressed young woman who had appeared next to him. He reflected that she was actually a rather attractive woman; at least she would be if her hair was not pulled back so tightly and she elected to wear something that did not make her look so manly. "Mrs. Johansson, it's nice to see you again." The dossier that Thomas had provided him clearly implied she was happily married; he wondered why she was not wearing a wedding ring and why she was trying to look so masculine? Was it a costume for the party?

"Please call me Sam."

"Sam, it's a lovely party thank you for inviting me." He smiled warmly and bowed to his hostess.

Samantha returned his smile, not seeing any of the chauvinistic behavior she had been anticipating. 'Could they have been misinformed?'

"Are you enjoying yourself?"

"Very much so. Is your husband around? I would like to meet him."

Looking her husband in the eye, "Sorry, my husband isn't feeling himself tonight and can't make it. I asked Sammie here to be your escort for the evening. I hope that she is everything that you had hoped she would be. She has firm instructions to ensure you have a good time." She looked down at Sammie who was sitting demurely at the table, quietly watching the conversation. Sam was rewarded with a bright flush that washed over her husband's face. Sam smiled slightly at her husband's discomfort.

"Yes, Sam. Sammie has been excellent companion. I was surprised to find that she is a CPA and how knowledgeable she is about your company. I might just try to hire her away from you." He smiled slightly to indicate that he was teasing, but only a little.

"She's also an excellent dancer. I'm looking forward to getting her back to the dance floor; there are not that many women who can keep up with me."

The look that was exchanged between Sam and Max seemed to be charged with meaning. The way he was looking at Sammie it was obvious he didn't want to be bothered again this evening with business. It's said he's a man who knows what he wants and is accustomed to getting it. It was also reported he didn't take no for an answer. He had only one goal in mind tonight and she was sitting at the table waiting for him.

"Very well then. Sammie has been briefing me on your financial status and I look forward to our meeting tomorrow. So you can explain in more detail your plans for recovery." Sam stuck out her hand to Max and gave him a firm handshake then she bowed slightly to Sammie, who blushed at his wife's masculine attitude. Sam retreated back to the table she had selected for its seclusion, where she could watch the action on the dance floor without being too intrusive. The staff that was in on the masquerade were also using the table as their 'base'. At the moment they were all out on the dance floor, enjoying themselves. Sam, all alone, was beginning to feel a bit like a fifth wheel.

The band played a couple more numbers before Max and Sammie returned to the floor. Sam had noticed that Sammie appeared to be nervous as she has observed him knock back a couple of mixed drinks rather rapidly. She hoped that Sammie did not lose control and step out of character.

For his part, Sammie thought he was handling everything without a problem. Sam had expected her husband to be appalled at the treatment their guest was reputed to dish out to his escorts. Yet Sammie was perfectly at ease, his date apparently a perfect gentleman.

From her observation point, Samantha was confused. Either Max had toned down the objectionable behavior or Sammie must be wasted. Sammie moved smoothly as Max led him out to the middle of the dance floor.

Over the next minutes, Sam was completely blown away as she watched Max lead Sammie through several different songs, each involving a different step. Finally, the band seemed to join in on the fun as they first played a waltz number and then the foxtrot. Sam had hired the band for their range of numbers, but she had not actually auditioned them. Now, she was forced to watch Sammie and Max put on a dance clinic.

As the couple got more into the rhythm of the dances, the couples around them began to notice their obvious expertise and stood back to make room. Eventually, no one was dancing they simply formed a very large circle around them and observed. Watching her husband dance, Sam's face was awash with surprise and a touch of jealousy. When the band began to warm up to play the tango, enough was enough and she pushed her way to the edge of the dance floor. She stepped forward and spoke quietly into Max's ear. He nodded politely to Sam and then had a quiet word with Sammie.

Sammie was a bit put out at being asked to stand aside so that Max could dance with Samantha. He was annoyed with his wife and watched disconsolately as he thought, 'Just as I was really getting into things and starting to have fun out there, Sam had to step into things and steal my date!'

The alcohol he had sucked down had worked its way into his system with a vengeance. He stood on the sidelines and watched his wife dance the tango with Max like it had been choreographed. Samuel grudgingly admitted, 'The only thing missing was the rose clenched between Sam's teeth.'

When the dance finally ended, the sexual tension was so palatable; you could cut it with a knife. Samuel had always been a jealous person and a little insecure, watching his beautiful wife in the arms of his handsome date morphed the feelings of jealousy into envy. In his alcoholic haze he just was not sure which bothered him more, his wife being with another man or his date being with his wife. As everyone broke out into wild applause at the performance, Sammie shouldered his way through the crowd to one of the bartender stations in the corner of the room.

The bartender asked Sammie what he wanted, his response was, "Surprise me." He slugged back something that made his eyes water. He was about to order another when Nancy slid in next to him, put her hand on his. "Sammie, I think a glass of wine would be more appropriate. Don't you? After all, that is a more ladylike drink than hard whiskey." After the strenuous exertions of the tango, Max decided to take a break. He appeared at his date's side just as the bartender served Sammie his wine.

"My dear. I'm sorry that I neglected you, but our hostess pointed out that she had not had the opportunity to dance with me and informed me she was particularly adept at dancing the tango. I hope that you're not too upset?" As Max turned on the charm, Sammie felt himself relaxing and he allowed Max to lead him back to their table. He was glad that his voice training had been so good that he had not made a mistake of allowing his voice to drop back to Samuel's deeper register.

Back at the table, Sammie felt himself relaxing even more as Max told several amusing anecdotes that managed to coax a smile out of him. Nancy hovered close by. At one point, she, Mary and two other office girls and made it a point to stop at the table for a moment, under the pretext of saying hello but in reality on Samantha's orders were checking on Sammie's sobriety.

Max couldn't help but notice the other woman's genuine concern for his date's wellbeing. As he looked around, he could see the same attitude in several places in the room. If someone looked they might have taken too great an advantage of the open bar, they were being seated by a friend or escort. He even saw one case of someone taking car keys away. He was impressed by how tightknit the employees of the company were; a fact that went into a compartment in his mental catalog.

Feeling the call of nature, he excused himself, feeling sure that Sammie would be okay waiting for him, considering how she was seated among her friends.

Across the room, a pair of guys saw the lone doe, sitting alone. They watched her date whisper something in her ear and then vanish into the crowd. The predators scented fresh blood and made a bee line across the room to Sammie's table, with a nefarious plan to cull her from the herd. Each of the obviously drunk men slithered into chairs on either side of Sammie. Samuel gave each a cursory glance; he failed recognized either, so he assumed that they were invited dates. Upon closer examination; he concluded they must be blind dates. The women who worked for him were too classy to be involved on a regular base with these types.

"Hey cutie. Whatcha doin' here all alone?" The one on his right swooped in on him, and brushed a hand along Samuel's arm, as he noticed the absence of a wedding ring.

He shrugged the cad's hand away and said, "My date just stepped into the rest room, he'll be right back." Samuel really did not want to break his cover, but he already felt uncomfortable with these two clods obviously thinking he was available or worse yet interested. He scanned the crowd, where was Sam? He needed her.

The first guy's wingman took over from where his friend left off; he ran his fingers along the back of Samuel's hand and said, "Interested in a good time? I've got some blow."

Samuel jerked his hand away and decided that it might be wiser to put some distance between himself and his erstwhile suitors. He stood and backed away from the table, but he unwisely allowed himself to be between the two drunks and rest of the dance floor. His machismo seemed to have deserted him as the two men began moving toward him. He tried to go around them, which only resulted in being edged closer to the door that led out to the garden behind the hall.

Just as Sammie decided it was time to pay the damsel in distress card and scream for help, Max appeared behind the two men.

"Excuse me gentlemen. I believe that is my date," Max said calmly.

Almost at the same time, they turned to Max and the first one said, "Beat it old man. You left her alone, that means she's fair game. We decided it's our turn now."

"That's no way to treat a lady. Would you two care to step outside and we'll settle this like gentlemen and I use the term loosely?"

Both drunks sneered at Max, obviously missing the fact; he was completely calm and physically relaxed. Something that should've sent alarm signals to their brains if they weren't so wasted.

"Yeah," the leader of the duo said. "Let's go out and take care of this. Then we'll come back in and show the little lady a good time." His cockiness said that he did not consider Max a threat and he expected to leave the smaller man in a crumpled heap in the garden. Max was, in fact, of just average size when compared to the two knuckle-dragging no-necks that stood in front of him. These guys were obviously bullies and accustomed to intimidating people and taking whatever they wanted.

By this time, the confrontation was starting to draw attention and several people turned to see what was going on. Recognizing the potential for fisticuffs Max wanted to ensure Sammie's safety. He calmly turned his back to the two ruffians and took her by the elbow. Samuel was craning his neck trying to see where Samantha was. He caught sight of her on the other side of the room and had to wave three or four times to get her attention. Once she saw him, she hurried across the room trying to intercept him.

Max walked Sammie rather forcefully to the ladies' room; Sammie had trouble keeping up with Max as he was forced to skip as fast as he could in his stilettos. Max kicked opened the ladies room door and pushed Sammie inside with the instruction, "Stay here! Don't come out until I come back for you! There are two, excuse my language, assholes that need to have an attitude adjustment." The way Max said attitude exemplified what he thought of the attitudes and behavior of the two thugs waiting for him at the door.

As he turned away, Sammie pleaded "Please, Max! Don't do this. They're half your age. It isn't worth it. I don't want you to get hurt!"

Max smiled reassuringly and turned away from Sammie. Samantha showed up and joined her husband in the ladies room. After being briefed on the situation, Samantha was torn between her duties as hostess and her responsibilities to protect her husband.

Samuel was nearly hysterical. Samantha held his hands and tried to calm him down. "Aside from those two contemptuous hooligans how has your evening been going?"

"I am so ashamed, how will you ever forgive me?"

"Has Sammie been a bad girl? Tell me all about it. If Max has taken liberties with you, I'll rip his lips off."

In a whining tone Sammie went on, "No, it's not Max. He has shown me nothing but kindness and respect. It's all the other guys out there. I have been subjected to an entire night of lascivious stares. Not one man looked me in the eye; all they do is focus on my bust. I had no idea how degrading and dehumanizing that is. Before, when I admired a pretty well developed woman, I thought in some way I was complimenting her. Now I realize it's debasing to objectify a person based on her bra size.

By the way this bra you made me wear is diabolical. I know it was never your plan; but I've become so much more sensitive and perceptive, thank you for that!"

With a triumphant smile, Samantha said, "That's awesome. Now let's just get through this night. Fix your face while I stand guard at the door. We can talk more about your conversion tonight. Love you."

Samantha stood her post at the lavatory door.

By this time, Max had reached the two men who intended to put him into the hospital. As the crowd watched, the three men disappeared out the door and into the night. The view was blocked by the crowd of people as the all jockeyed for position to watch. No sooner had the crowd settled than they began parting like the Red Sea to make room for someone coming back in the room.

Samantha held her breath waiting to see who the lone survivor was.

The group of people nearest the door did not look at Max as he passed back into the hall; rather they craned their necks to see the two men lying on the grass outside. Then they looked at the back of the man who had managed to KO two larger men in the space of thirty seconds.

Max walked calmly and steadily up to where Samantha stood. "I'm sorry that I had to spoil your party Samantha. Unfortunately, a pair of your guests attempted to assault my date. I had to point out that they were being impolite and was forced to teach them some manners. May I step in to check on Sammie?"

Max triumphantly entered the powder room to find Sammie cowering in the far corner. Everything started to catch up with Sammie. The stress of everything Samuel had done to be here tonight as Sammie, the emotional upheaval of almost being attacked, and the booze that he had consumed all served to make him more than a little wobbly. Upon seeing her Sir Galahad, apparently safe and sound, she flew across the room and threw herself into his arms. She gave him a boa constrictor hug.

Which is how Samantha found the two as she closed and locked the door behind her.

"Are you alright? How…How'd you do that?" Sammie choked out.

Max just waved his hand. "I was a Mixed Martial Arts champion when I was younger. Much younger. But I am still spry enough to take out those two punks." He looked at Sammie with concern. "Young lady, are you all right?"

"Y…Yes. I think so," Sammie answered. "I'm just a little light-headed at the moment." Both Max and Samantha reached out to steady Sammie as he seemed to waver back and forth.

"I'm sorry that I left you alone," Max began. "I've only known you for a little while, but I think that you are a special person. If you will have me, just say yes and I will never leave you alone again."

In his unsteady state, Sammie only heard the words, not the meaning and emotion behind them. All he thought was that Max was promising to stay by his side for the rest of the evening, not the rest of his life.

"Yes, yes, Max. Thank you."

For her part, Samantha had kept a clear head all evening and she understood what Max was asking. Her eyes widened and her heart seemed to seize up as she heard Max proposing to her intoxicated husband, and the drunken knuckle head apparently accepting the proposal.

A simple lesson in attitude and manners and an attempt to save their company had ballooned dangerously out of control. All Samantha could see now was abject humiliation for her husband, an irate potential client who would ruin their reputation, and the end of the company which was the livelihood for everyone here at the party.

Samantha fought back the desire to cry and realized that the only thing she could do was to reveal the truth to Max and explain why they deceived him. She stepped forward to touch Max's elbow.

"Mr. von Goethe? Sammie and I really need to speak with you." Max looked at Samantha for a moment that seemed to drag on to eternity and nodded. Sammie had watched the exchange between his wife and Max with a fuzzy head until the reality of the situation seemed to wash over him, leaving him cold sober.

"Mr. von Goethe, my husband and I owe you an explanation and a very great apology," Samantha said.

Max nodded politely and just looked at Samantha expectantly.

"What would your husband have to apologize for?"

Sam took a deep breath and just plunged into her story. "I'll get to that in a minute. Our company is struggling and we are in danger of having to close our doors. When we learned that you were considering us to represent you and your interests, we were determined that we would do whatever it took to convince you ours is the best company out there." She paused for a moment to marshal her thoughts.

"Samuel contacted your administrative aide and spoke with him to get the inside story on how best to influence you. Your man made it very clear you enjoy the company of well-endowed blonde women. To that end, we attempted to find a buxom young lady to hang on your arm and make you happy. Regrettably we were unable to locate anyone who fit the bill. Samuel came to me with an idea. His intention was to have me undergo breast augmentation surgery and impress you with my appearance and knowledge of the company."

"How does that explain Sammie?" Max said, putting his hand on Sammie's.

Samantha cleared her throat and said "I don't want to embarrass you but your date's real first name is Samuel. He may look like a woman, but he is my husband!"

Before the opened mouth Max could respond, Samantha went on, "Well, sir. That is where the rest of explanation and apology comes in. You see, my husband is a bit of a chauvinist. He has always admired women who are better endowed than I."

She gestured to her own torso. "As you can see, I'm not very impressive in a bikini. Samuel's idea was logical, but I was hurt that he would ask me to become an object and to use me to distract you. In a fit of anger, I used a bit of trickery to convince Samuel to have the surgery, thus becoming the Sammie you see before you. My intent was to teach him a lesson about what it was to be looked upon as a sex symbol and to provide you with an escort that you would prefer and yet still be informed about our company. I'm afraid that the situation got out of hand."

At that point, Samantha's story ran down. She'd confessed to tricking her husband into getting a large set of hooters and to then using her cross-dressed husband to deceive their guest into thinking that he was with an attractive, available woman. She could see no point in trying to justify their actions any further.

"We cannot apologize enough for what we've done to you or the embarrassment we have caused. I'm sorry."

Max von Goethe stood still as a statue looking first at Samantha and then at Sammie, the woman he had thought was a captivating breath of fresh air. The tableau seemed to go on for hours to Sam and Sammie. In actuality, it probably lasted all of ninety seconds.

"You shouldn't have bothered. I make it a rule never to do business with blonde airheaded bimbos like you two. Goodnight."

Then Max bowed respectively to both of them and turned to stride with rigid correctness back through the dance hall and out to where his limo was parked. He was gone within minutes.

Sam stood looking at the door through which Max and vanished, saddened that their plot had gone so wrong. Not that Samuel's original plan had been much better, but her plan had exposed Max to a level of embarrassment that her husband's had lacked. The only upside was that she had ended up with a very pretty husband, although he was not delighted to lean how he had been used. She turned to Sammie with tears starting to stream down her face and they fell into each other's arms, weeping. Not only had the company they had enjoyed building come to an end, but all of their family of employees were now facing unemployment.

Sammie, even in his somewhat intoxicated condition, was doing better emotionally than his wife. He had had a few too many drinks and would pay for it later, but he held Sam tightly as he consoled her. The Samuel Johansson who had helped to build the company from nothing showed his true strength to his wife.

"Sam. Sam!" He didn't want to slap his own wife to break her out of the crying jag she had gotten herself into and he was glad that she finally gave a gasp and then inhaled deeply. "Just relax. Let's let everyone enjoy themselves here. Everything has already been paid for; we'll worry about damage control tomorrow. We'll get through this. After all we're still a team."

Samantha looked her husband in the eyes her heart leaping with joy, "We're still a team?"

"Of course, you didn't think a set of boobs will come between us."

The tension broken Samantha laughed and hugged her husband as close as his endowments would allow and said; "Actually they do seem to create a significant chasm, at least physically."

Samantha had obviously invested a great deal of her emotion into the party and the let-down had hurt her more than she expected. She nodded sadly to Samuel and they walked out of the party through the garden, not wanting their team to see them leave. Sam knew that her staff would handle coordinating the shutting down of the party when the time came; she didn't need to be there.

Samuel led her back to where the limousines were parked. Samantha had arranged for a car to take Sammie and herself away from the party, but she had thought that it would have been in triumph, not in abject defeat. She turned and looked back at the entrance to the hall, thinking about all of the people they had let down and Samuel coaxed her into the open door thanked the driver and climbed in himself.

To a casual observer, it seemed as if two attractive women had left the party and gotten into a limo. It was almost as if Cinderella was getting into her carriage at the end of the ball. Inside, it definitely was not Cinderella who was lying back reliving her time at the ball. Instead, it was Samuel holding his wife, telling her that everything was going to be fine and that he loved her with all of his heart. He said, "Honey, we may have lost everything; but as long as we have each other. I believe we're still ahead on points." He wished her a Happy Valentine's Day before kissing her hard enough to make her toes curl. Samantha soon found herself relaxing into Samuel's embrace and she returned his kiss with equal ardor.

By the time they reached their home, Samuel had managed to get her to forget about the night's disappointment and she was giggling and cooing at his kissing and tickling. If the driver was surprised or embarrassed at two women sitting in the back of his fooling around, he hid it well. He was the consummate professional as he pulled up to the front door and held the door for them as they left the vehicle, thanking him for his thoughtfulness. The two ladies vanished into the house and he left to enjoy the rest of his evening.

@ @ @ @

The lovebirds slept in the next morning and they certainly needed the rest. For the first time in their married life, Samantha pleasured her husband first. Playing with his fun bags seemed to feed Sammie's recuperative powers. He brought his wife to the peak of ecstasy so many times that she couldn't see straight. This night Samantha gave as good as she got. They both slept contented and satisfied. Their love rejuvenated by the night of passion.

It was well after noon before they were finally showered and dressed for the day. Until Sammie could go for surgery, he had no choice but to present himself as a woman. If he was going to be a woman, Samantha was determined he was going to be the best, most beautiful woman he could be. She spent a long time combing his long hair in a fancy French braid. Then she did his makeup for him. When she was finished Samantha gushed over his beauty. In light of last night's events, it was obvious husband and wife would be sharing more than makeup and both would be shopping in the women's clothing department for quite some time.

Sammie had not fully come to terms with his enhanced bust and he was conflicted over the idea he was going look like this for a long time. However in one night of lovemaking, Sammie discovered he had acquired two new delightful erogenous zones — At first he was afraid to reveal that to his wife concerned it would turn her off. But happily she seemed to get as much enjoyment out of them as he did. Then the realization that they were facing bankruptcy and their friends were going to be out of their jobs brought him out of his post coitus afterglow of happiness.

They moved to the family room to have a leisurely brunch of tea and biscuits. Samantha smiled at her husband's blatant attempt at seduction. He had intentionally left his satin dressing gown open to reveal a great deal more décolletage than appropriate for the breakfast table.

Nevertheless they ate their humble repast side by side occasionally stroking each other. Samantha just couldn't seem to keep her hands off her sexy playmate. It was amazing how showing strength and compassion in the face of adversity made Sammie so sexy to Sam. She had also discovered how much fun it was to tease her husband's new breasts and watch him writhe in enjoyment. After watching how much he had enjoyed her attention, Sam wasn't sure if she would be able to get him back to a surgeon and she wasn't sure if she wanted him to.

Sammie was returning with a fresh pot of tea when the doorbell rang. Pulling his robe closed, he opened the door, to discover their porch had been transformed into a potpourri of fragrant red, white, and yellow roses. At the edge of the garden of flowers stood Max von Goethe.

For some reason, Sammie was unable to process the presence of Max and the roses; all he could do was stand there in shock. When Sammie did not come back with the tea, Sam came to investigate. She came up behind her husband catching a glimpse of color in the background, "Honey? What's going on?"

When she looked around Sammie and saw all of the beautiful roses, her face split into a delighted smile; every woman likes flowers. Her smile dimmed slightly when she saw Max. Not wanting to spoil a perfect day with a confrontation with this odious individual, she knew there was no way to mollify Max, so why bother. She asked politely, "Mr. von Goethe? What are you doing here?"

Max held his hands up in surrender to show that he meant no harm.

Carrying an armload of flowers, he said, "These are my peace offering. I came to offer my apologies to you both for my reaction last night. I allowed my emotions to control me instead of seeing your actions from your point of view. I saw two people who had tried to humiliate me into signing a contract by setting me up with a female impersonator and did not see two people who were doing what they needed to do to save their business by giving me what they thought I wanted. It took me five whole minutes to kick myself in the ass and see that you had done almost exactly what you were expected to do."

Sammie blinked and said, "You expected us to do that to you?"

Max smiled. "Well, something like what you did. You see, you were set up. All those tabloid stories about me are planted. True I am a lonely widower; but I am no rich playboy, out screwing every bimbo he can. The only women I find attractive have brains as well as beauty. That is why I am so attracted to Sammie. Thomas fed you the information about me that we wanted you to have. All of the prospective marketing organizations that I have interviewed were told the same story.

"Every one of your competitors provided me with a big bosomed floozy who made it plain they were prepared to do anything I wanted."

"You mean that you expected us to set you up with someone?" Sammie asked, confused.

"Yes, that is what I anticipated," Max answered as he stepped forward. "However in your case, you surprised me. Unlike your competitors, Sammie was certainly flirtatious but I never doubted her virtue or her intentions. You didn't insult me by assuming I would be thinking with my little head. You provided me with the company of a beautiful, intelligent person for the evening. It's obvious to me that dinner and dancing was all that was on the menu.

"The character and integrity of the marketing firm that we will be doing business with is important to me. I won't do business with someone who would pimp out a young lady just to get my business. After all, you can't know how they will treat a business partner if they would do that to an individual. At the same time, I want to work with people who will go all out to do what they must for their client. Sammie certainly went the extra mile to win me over."

Sammie joked, "No sir they aren't a mile, it's an optical illusion just seems that big."

Max laughed at the joke. Sammie and Samantha still stood at the door, with Samantha looking over her husband's shoulder. Max laid a bouquet of roses at Sammie's feet then knelt on one knee. He took a box out of his jacket pocket and held the unopened box out to Sammie and said, "Consider this a proposal."

Sammie looked down in astonishment at the box and then up at Max's face, plainly confused. Then the realization of what was happening hit him. Sammie became faint, his heart raced and he became short of breath. He thought he was having another anxiety attack. 'The concept that a wealthy and powerful man could actually ask him to become his wife was preposterous. Or was it, in retrospect Max had asked the same question last night.'

Samantha wrapped her arms around her noodle limp husband and spoke up, "Mr. von Goethe, what do you mean? We are already married and Sammie is my husband and unless he has changed his sexual orientation overnight I believe he wants to retain the position. I thought we made that very clear to you."

Max smiled broadly. "Excuse my small play on words, I know all of that. I can be insufferable at times and I'm a bit of a prankster that was just a bit of levity to show I harbor no resentment for last night." He took a second box from his jacket and offered it up to Sam. "I'm not here to make a proposal of marriage to either of you. Rather what I am proposing is a wedding between Johansson Marketing and von Goethe Enterprises. Rather than hire your services, I would like your company to become a subsidiary of mine. With one condition, that is nonnegotiable. Both you ladies must agree to remain in charge — you are a team that I couldn't possibly break up."

Sammie finally found his voice, "I don't know Max…that, is asking for a huge commitment, especially from me."

"Forgive me Sammie; I understand you were just playacting last evening. However from my vantage point you didn't seem to be struggling in your part. I know there were times you were enjoying yourself. If I am wrong, tell me so and we will forget the whole thing."

Sammie choked on his own words, "Not so fast Max, no one said we or I wouldn't do it. I merely expressed the concept that there would be a huge number of personal sacrifices involved."

"Ah, I see what you are doing, negotiating. No one who works for me has ever complained they weren't properly compensated. We can let the number crunchers work out the actual sale price. I am offering a signing bonus of a million dollars and annual salary of $250,000 for each of you."

Sam and Sammie gasped in unison. Max laughed, "Alright, you are hard negotiators, 2 million dollars each. That is my final offer, take or leave it."

Taking the boxes from Max, the Johansson's opened them to find identical signet rings displaying ruby hearts. Still on his knees Max requested, "Read the inscription."

They took out the rings and held them up and read, "Because every day should be Valentine's Day."

Max stood up and took their hands and slid the rings on each woman's right-hand index fingers. "It wasn't easy finding your ring sizes; Thomas is really irreplaceable as my man Friday."

"I believe that this merger would be beneficial to both of our companies. I very carefully selected the word proposal — other than for its shock effect. If you accept my proposal, I ask that you wear these rings as a symbol of our commitment to each other to create a company where all its employees wake up every morning and want to come to work. Last night, I watched, not a group of people working for the same company, but a family of individuals working in unison for a single purpose. In today's world, that kind of camaraderie and loyalty are rare. I would like to be a part of it. You have an impressive team that will do anything for you and I would rather have you working with me than against me. If I could teach the rest of my executives your management style, my business interests would be incredibly successful."

Samantha jokingly replied, "That's easy Max just put them all in bras, skirts and high heels."

Max let out a nervous laugh and said, "Present company excluded I'm sure?"

Sam and Sammie gasped in relief as they came to grips with everything that Max had said to them. Not only had this billionaire apologized for his hurtful words, but he was proposing to buy their company. Tears flowed from them both as they realized that the employees that were so important to them would continue to have jobs. The reversal of their financial fortunes was nice too.

Sammie realized that he was holding a cooling pot of tea. "Mr. von Goethe, would you like a cup of tea?" He and Sam stood back from the door to allow him in.

Max stepped into the house saying, "That's the last time I ever expect to hear Mr. von Goethe as my partners you will only call me Max."

They walked to the kitchen nook. While Sam and Max took seats, Sammie made himself busy getting cups, sugar, and cream and reheating the tea. Max took a seat across from Samantha.

After putting the fresh pot of tea on the table Sammie did the honors of pouring for everyone and offered cream and sugar to their guest. This time he took extra care not to spill on Max's lap

"I have just one request, well two actually," Max said. Sam and Sammie looked at him expectantly.

"I ran a check on the two guys I had a run in with last night and found that they were not employees. It seems they both required medical care. Could you see to it that their bills be sent to me? You might also counsel their dates to be more selective in the future."

Sam smiled at that and nodded, recalling her plans to address that exact item.

"My second request is that, with your permission you change the name of your company to Twin Hearts Marketing, to better reflect the philosophy I believe that I sensed from everyone last night."

@ @ @ @ @

Sam and Sammie held an all-company meeting a couple of days later to announce the merger of Johansson Marketing into von Goethe Enterprises. Samuel continued to appear as Sammie, primarily because his chest could not be disguised to reflect the proper image of a businessman. But dressing as a woman allowed him to appear as the successful woman he now was.

Sammie attracted a fair number of appreciative looks from the male members of the staff until they were informed of Sammie's true identity. At the same time no one had a problem with who Sammie really was because they all knew the sacrifice Samuel had made to save the company. If anything, Sammie had garnered an even greater level of respect from the staff. The woman on the staff were particularly grateful, they now had two bosses that were respectful and understanding and a new company policy on sexual harassment. In addition the woman's lavatory was now scheduled for a major upgrade.

Max, Sam, and Sammie voted to have Samantha make the announcement of the merger of the two companies.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I have two announcements to make concerning our company. First, for those of you who haven't met him, this is Mr. von Goethe. He is the main reason no one will be losing their jobs. Most of you recognized we were having financial problems. Mr. von Goethe stepped up to the plate and rescued us with an offer we couldn't refuse. He proposed a shotgun wedding between his conglomerate and our firm. We will remain an independent subsidiary now called Twin Hearts Marketing and are free to take on additional clients. The parent company will naturally have first call upon our services."

Nancy raised her hand, "Why are we changing the name of the company to Twin Hearts Marketing?"

Max stood on the side and smiled at the use of 'we' in the question.

"Because every day should be Valentine's Day. Any other questions?"

"Yes, why did you refer to the merger as a shotgun wedding? Is this a hostile takeover?"

"Hostile? No way Nancy, Max proposed the merger with respect for everyone associated with this firm. But, thanks for that question. It leads me into my second announcement. We are going to add a child daycare center here at the headquarters. Free to all employees,"

Sam spread her arms wide in joy as she announced, "A wedding is normally required when there is a pregnancy. I will be one of the first to take advantage of their services. I am pregnant and if the sonogram is correct we're going to have twins." She couldn't help squealing with joy as she finished.

The place erupted in a chorus of applause and congratulations. Sammie rushed to his wife's side and hugged her while she beamed. Of course, it was a shock to Sammie because Daddy always seems to be the last one to find out. He stood there mumbling indecipherably "OMG twins."

FIN

This is a story that is set in the Old West and in the present day. It starts out slowly, but it speaks to the fact that transgenderism is not something new but has existed for a long time.

There are key moments in everyone’s life that determine their future. They lie in one’s memory and emerge when other major events occur and this way they influence forthcoming life. Sometimes they seem negligible and are ignored by others while others that seem to be significant are just a consequences of a series of decisions made years ago. Those are not pleasant or sweet in most cases though they force me to go back and relive them again and again. Thus I can write only ‘bout my memories ‘cause only I and nobody else can know what moments are really key moments.

The Name

The first thing I remember that influenced my whole life was my mom calling me a tomboy when I was eight. First of all, I didn’t like the word itself. Has it the same meaning as a tomcat? A cat that’s supposed to be gentle and soft but is scrappy and pugnacious? I wasn’t that! I wasn’t a kind of pink colored girly girl though I wasn’t a boy. Dolls and doll houses weren’t my favorite game but I’d played doll house with other girls and I didn’t like to play with toy cars and trucks or, what was even worse, to play a soldier. I didn’t like dresses and white tights for everyday wear, preferring shorts or jeans though a frilly dress was okay for Sunday church or for a visit to Granny.

“Don’t spoil Diane with dolls. She’s a tomboy so buy her a bike instead,” Mom said to Granny. That name had hurt me a lot and brought me to tears. Both Mom and Granny tried to soothe and calm me down but the word had been said. This incident might be seen as a petty and insignificant. Probably it was such in fact, but for me, it was a clue of uncertainty about who and what I was. Was I false, awry, or simply incorrect? I return to it seriously or sarcastically every time my behavior is questioned till now, when I'm my mother's age.

The New Home

I was eleven when our family moved to the new house after dad was promoted. The house was big enough for my elder brother Zen and me to have separate bathrooms. While before, Zen lived in the guestroom on the first floor. On the same floor, our parents’ bedroom had its own bathroom, too. On the ground floor there was a big family room, the kitchen, the guest room, and an additional bathroom. Our backyard was separated from our neighbor's yard by a picket fence and wicket. The neighbors’ houses were identical to ours as it was a block of all new houses made by the same builder.

A day after we’d moved in, I saw a girl strolling around the neighbors’ backyard, and I went over to introduce myself. She was almost my height, her dark blonde, slightly wavy shoulder length hair framed her face and it seemed to draw attention to her big light blue eyes and long eyelashes. She was dressed the same way as I: shorts and short sleeved shirt.

“Hi, I’m Diane,” I said, "We moved in yesterday so we are neighbors."

“Hi, I’m Jerry,” it was a boy apparently, “call me J, I don’t like Jerry.”

That same day, I met another girl my age, Chloe. I invited her to our house to play. I had (I still have it) a big doll house. It was boring to play with the house alone; while playing dolls with some other girls was much more fun. While we were in my room, I looked out the window and saw Jerry in the backyard.

“Would you like to join us?” I called to him from the open window.

“I have to ask my brother,” he said and ran into the house and a minute later I saw him crossing the backyard again and a few moments later, I was introducing him as J to Chloe. I was sure it would be a lot of fun making a boy play doll house with us. But where I thought that J would be embarrassed to play with dolls, he did not have a problem at all.

J was taking every doll in his hands the way a mother would hold her babies, not the straight way I or other girls usually did. Then he was adjusting their clothes and changing them as if they were dirty and later he brushed their hair. He wasn’t showing a sign he was bored or embarrassed to be doing any of this. He was talking to them, telling them how nice and pretty they are and how their mom and their dad loved them. Then he put all the dolls in a semicircle to watch TV.

Later, he asked me for a wet duster. I brought him one from the kitchen and he began to clean the dolls’ house crooning silently something I wasn’t able to understand. I have to admit that I’d never cleaned my doll house; probably Mom was cleaning it every time she was cleaning up a mess in my room.

Then I thought ‘why not play in full?’ “You’ll be mom and I’ll be the dad,” I said to J. So he put every doll in its bed and said he had to make dinner for them and for daddy while they had a nap. He arranged a table and put plates together with spoons on it. Then it was time for daddy (me) to come home so he awakened all the dolls and made them sit in the room.

“Kids, come here. Daddy’s home!” he shouted and then turned to me, “The kids and I are so happy that you are at home at last, honey.” He took every doll and made them kiss my cheek. ”We missed you all day,” and he kissed me on my cheek and suddenly turned beet red. It was something to see.

Chloe was stunned and I, too, had never seen other girls being such a mom. I was certainly nothing like that. His play was as an instructional video of how ‘The house’ had to be played.

We were chatting and Chloe wanted to boast about her newly pierced ears. My ears had been pierced already.

“J, you definitely need your ears pierced,” Chloe said. “You would be startling in earrings.”

“I can’t. I’m a boy.” The way he said that sounded so sad.

“I’m a pope if you are a boy,” she said, shaking her head.

He suddenly noticed his mom’s car pulling up to his house.

“I’ve to go,” he said, “see you later, bye!”

“She can’t be a boy!” Chloe stated as we watched him running in girl manner across the backyard to his house.

The Silly Girl

It was a state hard to describe. It was when everything was going well without any problems. That included a supportive family, friendly neighbors, success at school, relatives and friends. There was no sign of any kind of disaster coming or, in other words, I was sure any adversity would bypass our home.

It was the second Christmas in our new home and Granny had come and stayed for ten days for the school’s season break. Granny was a very special person. I could talk to her more than to my mom and she was understanding and supportive. My friends liked her too and Granny would say that she’d gained another two grandchildren, Chloe and J.

But everything comes to its end. Season break was over and Mom had to take Granny home and I asked to go along. It was a nice sunny winter day and the temperature dropped a little and some fog formed during the drive home. I had insisted upon sitting in the front seat because it was more convenient to chat with Mom during the drive home.

The road had become covered with black ice and traffic was moving very slowly. Suddenly, the truck in front of our car started to brake and its trailer’s tail slid to the right. Mom tried to brake too but our car, instead of stopping, turned across the road and continued moving in the same direction while the jeep behind us smashed into my side and pushed mom’s side into the edge of the trailer. Glass crushed first, then the car’s metal parts crumpled. Mom and I were pressed into each other and then the trailer’s edge tore into Mom’s shoulder.

Everything stopped.

No, time didn’t stop. There was a clock in the middle of the cockpit and it was showing time passing. Seconds and minutes passed in silence and I heard Mom whispering “I love you” to me. Those were her last words. Another two hours passed till help arrived.

In the time between the crash and the rescue team cutting me free, I tried to talk to my mother. She never answered me. I tried to tell her I was sorry about wanting to tag along on the trip, that it was my fault she got hurt. By the time I was pulled out of crumpled mess of our car, I knew that my mother was no more and I was curled in on myself.

I didn't say anything to the paramedics while they were examining me. I barely knew what was happening around me and their assessment was shock, so I was rushed to the hospital. My father was a surgeon at the same hospital and he brought me home rather than leave me there in a bed.

Dad gave me a shot to help me sleep. J and Chloe were with me. I squeezed J’s hand tightly and asked “Don’t leave me alone please.” The next thing I remembered was the sun shining and I was lying in my room and J was sitting by me with his hand still in my tight squeeze.

“Thank God you’re back. Feeling better?” he asked. I nodded. “Your dad asked me to call him after you woke up.” I nodded again and released his hand. He rushed from the room and called my dad.

He squeezed J's shoulder in thanks and said, “Go home now J, I’ll take care of Diane.” J left the room. Dad sat beside my bed and held my hand in place of J. We missed my mother together.

I knew what happened and I knew why it happened this way. If I was sitting on the back seat, Mom would be still alive while there wasn’t enough room for both of us in the front of the crumpled car. No one ever blamed me but me myself.

There was something else that I didn’t remember by myself but my brother Zen told me few months later. I was unconscious for almost a day and a half after my dad’s shot. J sat by my bed for all that time with his hand squeezed in mine, he refused to eat or go to bathroom because he said I needed him to stay with me.

The Perfect One

“Who’s the perfect one,” ‘it was rather a statement than a question and I didn’t intend to answer. It was one of those “girly talks” with J’s mom, one of those things I was longing for after my mom being gone. Chloe’s mom was very sweet, a kind of girly girl like Chloe was, and talks with her were usually a one way consolation of poor girl (me), not a conversation. J’s mom was different. She wasn’t trying to comfort me rather to help me find the right way.

One of things that I missed after mom’s death were her reminders to behave. Strange? When mom was alive, her standard “Sit straight” or “Watch your knees” were phrases that I usually ignored. Now, when I was left to myself, those phrases sounded in my head and I started to watch how I sat, how I ate, how I walked, how I talked, how I laughed.

I started to watch others, Chloe and J, my best friends. They both were perfect. I mean they both were acting like perfect girls, Chloe and J. I’d treated J as a boy, a weird one but a boy anyway. I’d tried to imagine that J was a girl. That wasn’t hard. J, as a girl, suited all situations better than a boy except at school.

In fact, J was probably better at being a girl than I was. I was confused. I needed advice and I turned to my brother Zen “what do you think about J?” His answer was something like “what’s wrong with her?” I didn’t bother to ask him again. ‘She’? I had to talk with someone. No, not with someone, but with J’s mom.

"I have a strange feeling that J is a girl not a boy. What do you think?” I said.

“Is this first time in three years that you have wondered that?” she replied with a small smile.

This was really not the answer I had expected. “So do you think that it is okay if J is a girl?” I asked.

“Yes, I do. It’s ok when and after she says she’s a girl.”

Wow. “But she’s not real and she will never, NEVER be a REAL girl!” I almost shouted. “Who’s the perfect one?”

I didn't know that J had overheard our conversation, but not all of it.

"J is a better girl than I am. She would be a better mother than me, I'm just a tomboy. I wish I could help her."

J's mother caught me up in a hug to calm the shaking that had come over me. When I had calmed down, she pushed me out to hold me at arm's length and looked me in the eye. "Yes, J is going to be a girl and she must try harder because of that."

The Despair

A couple of weeks after I’d realized that J was rather more of a girl than a boy, J’s dad came home earlier than usual. He didn’t expect anyone to be at home so he sat in the kitchen and put a kettle for some tea when he suddenly realized water was dripping from the ceiling. “Again with that bath tub’s plumbing,” he sighed and went upstairs.

Bad plumbing was rather by luck and not otherwise or it would have been too late because there was J laying in the tub with the veins at his elbows cut deep and warm water still running. He was already unconscious and the doctor couldn’t say whether he would survive or not. “This time we’ve saved him,” doctor said next day.

‘This time…’ If they were talking about ‘this time’ than there could be ‘another time’ and then another and another till J succeeded in his attempt. I had a bad feeling. The same feeling as when my mom was passing away in the car a year ago. I caused J’s attempt. J was left in the hospital to recover and he asked me to bring him some books from his room. I found all the books he wanted quickly… as well as Jessica’s diary.

I probably should not have, but I took the diary, with good intentions of course. One good thing is that I got to know her name. I’d started to read from the last page. There was a despair that she could never be a mom and she’d grasped it after she’d heard my words ‘never real’. There was no hate in those pages, only love and hope. Both her mom and dad knew everything and they’d planned that J would start high school as a girl as a real life test. Everything was set but here had come a wise girl named Diane with her verdict: “She’ll never be a real woman!”

‘This time…’

I had to do something about it. If not, there might be another time. I was a self-confident, stupid bitch much too often so I asked dad for advice. He simply took the diary from me and went straight to J’s mom. I don’t know what they’d been talking about but the doc (my dad) and the lawyers (J’s parents) had come to some conclusion although I didn’t know what.

Getting Through School

We started high school that autumn, Chloe, me, and Jessica. Chloe's family and mine were the only ones other than the school administration who knew that Jessica had been born as Jerry. The law would not allow Jessica to become complete a girl until she was legally an adult, but she was able to take the medications she needed and she looked just like the rest of us.

Of course, kids are smart and they eventually figured out that Jessica was not who she said she was. There were only a couple of families who had a problem with Jessica being a girl. They had no grounds for a complaint because we were more than halfway through the school year and she had not done anything that could make anyone uncomfortable. She never used the same bathrooms as the other girls and she did not go into the locker rooms.

There were still a couple of problems when she was revealed. She was never physically bullied, things never had a chance to get that far. No bully, boy or girl, had the nerve to go up against an entire group of girls who would tell them in no uncertain terms that Jessica was our friend and anyone who bullied her would deal with all of us.

There was one boy, Paul, who still had a problem with Jessica. He was careful never to say anything to her after that first time. I never knew why he felt the way he did. I remember telling him something just a couple of weeks after Jessica's secret was out and he said something mean about her. I told him, "Jessica is more girl than any other girl you can find in the world…ever." He left her alone after that and stayed far away from her. At least for a while.

All through high school, Chloe, Jessica, and I did everything together. There were slumber parties, shopping trips, and parties. Sure, there were other girls in our group, but it was always the three of us together.

It was in our last year of school that we started to drift apart. The cause, of course, was boys. Chloe started dating one of the boys on the football team and then it was just Jessica and I. Jessica wasn’t a problem but I was. The only boy to whom I was attracted was J and J was long gone. I wasn’t unmoved by Jessica but I couldn’t allow myself to show my feelings to her. She was a girl and girls were supposed to be interested in boys not girls. If my feeling were odd that didn’t mean I had the right to force Jessica’s feeling in the wrong direction. I wasn’t a lesbian but no other girl was important to me but Jessica.

Both of us were very surprised when Paul came to me to tell me that he wanted to ask Jessica to the senior party at year end, but he was afraid that I would think that he was trying to cause trouble. He told me, "I've thought a long time about what you told me once Diane. I looked at Jessica through your eyes and I found that you were right."

I was surprised at what Paul said to me and I told him that he would be very sorry if he hurt my friend in any way. After he assured me that his intentions were pure, I give him my blessing to ask Jessica to be his date. I ended up by myself at the party because I had turned down my invitations before Paul asked Jessica, but I was so happy for my friend. She looked like every other girl in the room when she was dancing with Paul.

My dad was Jessica’s surgeon. The operation was carried out the day after we graduated from high school. Chloe, Jessica, and I had remained best friends for all of these years. In all of that time, there had never been any reproach or blame from Jessica, just friendship if not to say love. I still remembered the hurt my words had caused my friend and I always tried to watch what I said to her or around her.

Jessica and Paul continued to see each other after her surgery and I felt a bit like a fifth wheel when I was around them. As a result, I took the opportunity to leave for Europe to pursue my architectural degree. I didn't want to stay and hurt their relationship by saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. I had never forgotten Jessica's time in the hospital.

Home Sweet Home

I was still in touch with my family though, I called my dad few times a year. But men are men and such is my dad. He never said more than I asked him about. The only time when he said more was almost four years ago when Chloe’s dad passed away. My dad was home alone now in the house that I had grown up in. My brother Zen had gotten married and had moved away with his wife. He has three kids now and saw my dad quite often. Chloe was married too and was the mother of three kids and they lived in her mother's house.

Jessica and Paul had broken up about a year after school ended. She was still living with her parents and was helping my father at times. Seven years had passed since I had left home and gone off to school. Because I had just gotten a job back in my home town, I agreed to celebrate my twenty-fifth birthday at home with my dad. Dad said it was okay with him and he would make sure that my room was ready for me.

The house was clean and neat when I arrived and Dad was happy to see me. There was my old doll house in the room. I looked out the window at the backyard with the picket fence and wickets with signs of frequent use. Everything was the same as if I’d left yesterday.

Everything with the exception of the emptiness inside. Inside the house and inside of me.

Standing there in my old bedroom brought old memories rushing back to me. I had spent years worrying about what I might say or do because it could cause someone pain and I was so afraid that it might happen again. I still missed my mother so much and I realized that I had missed being around Jessica.

It was time for some coffee with dad so I went downstairs to the kitchen. As I turned the corner at the bottom, I was confronted with a loud chorus of “Happy birthday dear Diane…”

It was really something! The living room was full of my dearest friends. I didn’t remember a time when I had so many hugs and tears and hugs again. What dad hadn’t told me was that Zen had married Chloe and she was now my sister-in-law and that dad was about to marry her mom and was just waiting for my approval (I was confused). My sister-in-law would be my sister and my brother would also be my brother-in-law. It made me think of a silly joke.

Of course, Jessica was there and looking as pretty as she ever had. We hugged and exchanged friendly kisses. After all of the greetings and hugs, she and I ended up in a corner of the living room to talk about the paths that our lives had taken. She had gone to university to learn to be a teacher and I was coming back to my home town to take a job with an architectural firm.

She told me about how she and Paul had parted as friends. We giggled when she told me that he was a good kisser. I admitted that I had dated a few times in school, “I never found the right one that I wanted to settle down with”, I said.

It was when Jessica confessed to me that she was sorry that she could never be a mother. I was sorry too. It was a pity that a woman whose destiny was to be mother couldn’t be one.

The Mummy

I was talking with my dad the same night after the party. “Jessica could be the best mummy I could imagine and she can’t to be one,” I said.

“She can’t deliver the baby though she can have children of her own,” dad replied. “I took samples of her semen and froze it. So she has just to find a surrogate mother.”

“Why didn't you say something about that before?” I yelled at him.

He just looked at me and said, “Have you asked?” Are all men the same?

Why had Jessica never told this to me or Chloe? Maybe it was too personal or she didn’t want to make us feel that we owed her the possibility to have her own kids. I didn’t know at the moment while I was running through the backyard to her house. Even though it was very late, I saw lights in the kitchen.

Jessica was sitting at the table, eating a slice of the birthday cake I had sent home with her. I sat down next to her and took her hands in mine.

"I’m sorry I’m so late but I just found out about your frozen semen. Will you accept me as your surrogate mom, please," I said as I looked into her eyes. This day was suited for hugs and tears of joy.

It was just the following week that we had the procedure performed and we discovered that I was pregnant a few weeks later. It was really lucky for us because it does not usually happen on the first try. By October, there was no doubt that I was carrying twins. I thought that it was good karma for me because I felt that I owed two lives. Dad and my new Mom let me stay with them (after a few months to let them enjoy their honeymoon) and Jessica watched over me when we would both arrive home from our jobs.

I recalled the days when we had played house together and Jessica would take care of the babies and pretend that I was coming home from work. Now it was true with the only difference that Jessica was coming home at the same time. She would act like the mother and fix us all an evening meal. After eating, she and I would sit and talk about our days. She loved to hear my stories about some of my more interesting co-workers and clients. When she talked about her school children, it was obvious that she really cared for them.

I got to know my new step-mother during those days as well. She turned out not to be woman I thought she was when I was growing up. She did not just tell me what she thought I wanted to hear like she did after my mother died. I should have known that because Chloe grew up to be a wise and mature woman and mother. Chloe's daughter and two boys were well behaved and polite. They studied hard as well. My step mother and I got along well. I found that I was willing to accept her as the mother I had lost and she helped me with some of the guilt I had carried over the years.

In the middle of April, labor pains started and Dad took me to the hospital. Of course, Jessica was my delivery coach and she helped me through it all, staying right by my side. When it was over and I was completely awake again, I found out that I’d delivered two girls, pretty ones. Jessica had already decided to name them Lena and Natalie.

Jessica was taking medication to help her breasts produce milk because we thought my own milk might not enough for the twins. We were sure that both girls would need to be changed at the same time or be fed at the same time. Everyone could see that Jessica and I made a good team to take care of them both. But reality was a little different. Every mother knows when she needs to check her baby, when her baby is about to get restless, or when it’s time to feed him. I was sure I was that kind of mother but every time I thought it would be good to check or feed the girls, Jessica was already at their cradle no matter if it was a day or night. Then there came teething time for both of girls and Jessica was tireless, soothing and caring for them every day and every night.

The Agreement

Status quo was exactly what suited me best. There was Jessica and the girls, my dad and my brother were happy and lived in my neighborhood. On the other hand, being a mother increased Jessica’s self-confidence to new levels. She was now the mother of her own daughters and at the same time she was young and attractive. She was ready to build a new family, a normal family.

Before we had started on this adventure, I had signed all the usual papers for this procedure in which I agreed to never interfere in my daughters’ lives after they were weaned. I knew that I would have to give up the girls to Jessica and I was feeling bad as the time to wean the girls approached, but it was the only way I could make Jessica’s life happy.

I was making arrangements to move again. I needed a job first and I had submitted applications to some European companies. The first one that had sent me an invitation was from Norway. It wasn't exactly the best choice, but some challenge could be good for me at the moment.

“Something important?” my step-mother asked while I was reading the letter in the kitchen.

“I’ve got a job in Norway,” I replied.

“Wow, it’s a wonderful country. I visited it when I was pregnant with Chloe. I’m sure Jessica and girls will like it a lot.”

“I'm going alone,” I said sadly. “I signed an agreement to leave the girls after they were weaned.”

She frowned at me. “Does Jessica know?”

I just shrugged. Accepting the fact that I was losing my daughters and leaving Jessica had me feeling very low. “She signed the same agreement so I guess she does know that I have to leave.”

Mom put our conversation on hold by holding up a finger. That was something she used to do when I would visit Chloe. It didn't matter if someone was in an argument, when that finger went up, talking stopped.

She grabbed the phone and made a call, “Hello Melanie? I need your help. It’s urgent. Please, now!”

Jessica’s mom was in our kitchen in less than a minute.

“Diane is leaving,” my step-mom said.

There was only one word in response, “Why?” which was said in unison by Jessica’s mom and by Jessica who had come in behind her mom. Jessica's expression showed that she was upset by my news and tears were already forming.

I took a deep breath to get through the coming painful conversation.

“First of all, we both signed the agreement that said I have to leave after girls are weaned. Second, Jessica, you and the girls are most important people in my life. I can’t stand in your way to build and live in a straight family with a father and you as the only mom. If I leave now, the girls will not remember me and I could come back later as your friend.”

Jessica's mom crossed her arms and looked at me sternly. “First,” she said, “the statement you are referring to was embarrassing for you and unfair to the girls. I told you that some changes were made but you said you trusted me and you signed without reading.”

My step-mom took up the conversation and said, "Second, you haven’t learned the lesson I was talking about. Follow your heart, not prejudices, to make yourself and people around you happy.”

I found myself getting tag-teamed as Jessica finished off. “Don’t you see we are the one, the family you are talking about? You, me, and the girls? Don’t break us apart please, stay with us.” She was in tears when she added, “I never told you how much I missed you when you went off to university."

The Names

Jessica and I got married less than two months after that. We both wore white and our fathers gave us each away to the other. We have been staying with her Mom and Dad until we can buy our own home.

Jessica decided to take time off from her teaching position to be with the girls. They were calling her Mummy while I was simply Mom or Mother just to spice things up.

When I come home from work, she is waiting with the girls to give me kisses and to welcome me home. Just like when we would play with the doll house.

My Date Night in Heels

The club was pretty typical for a night club, but I'd only been in a couple in my life. The lighting was halfway between being bright and dim, just enough light for the waitress to see between tables or for someone to find the bathroom without spilling someone else's drink.

For some reason, Lily and Flo forced me to be here tonight. I did not realize that it was a gay nightclub until a woman from another table asked me to dance. It still tok me a couple of minutes after we were on the small dance floor to realize that she thought that I was a woman too! I should have never let Flo get me dressed in her clothes, but it must have been the alcohol she kept me drinking.

After that one dance, I gave up and just went with it. I don't know how many hours we were there because I spent most of that time dancing or recharging my fluid levels. Even though I started at being at least half drunk because of Flo, I managed to keep most of my faculties around me and tried to stay with just water. I still had a couple of mixed drinks in there somewhere to be polite.

I lost track of Lily and Flo almost from the start, but Lily appeared right at closing time. Taking me by the hand, she led me over to a tall woman at one end of the bar. I was pretty sure that this was the bouncer for the club. She fit the bill because she was over six feet tall and she was not wearing heels.

Lily had to look up as she said, "Here you go, Lucy. My husband is all yours until tomorrow. Please be gentle with him. I don't like him much right now, but I still love the son-of-a-bitch." Then she turned to me and said, "Sam, have fun you sissy. I'll see you tomorrow and we will discuss our future."

I was still in shock when Lucy rather assertively escorted me out the door and to her car. I was too scared to say anything to her because she made me feel small. I was trying to understand what was going on and Lucy was not making any small talk. So it was quiet in the car. Fortunately, it was only about a fifteen minute drive before she pulled up in front of a small apartment complex.

Afraid that Lucy might drag me out of the car if I refused, I followed her to her apartment. I could feel my toes and the arches of my feet sending signals that they were approaching their limit. I hoped that Lucy would let me sit down and take off my shoes. Until now, I hadn't considered the fact that Flo had high-heeled shoes in my size. I knew that my feet were larger than hers.

"Please come in, Samantha," Lucy said, holding the door for me. "It's nothing too fancy, but it's clean and it's home."

We entered directly into the living room of the apartment. It was neat and clean, I could see the bedroom through a door at the end of a small hallway directly opposite the door we had come in by. There was not much in the way of furniture, just a fabric covered couch with a pleasant floral pattern, a recliner, and side tables with lamps.

The large 'woman' calling herself Lucy pointed to the couch and said, "Have a seat and take off your heels. The way you're limping, I'm guessing that it's your first time in stilettos. If I had to bet, this was probably your first time to a gay club, dressed as a woman."

All I could do was nod to show that she was correct. I wasn't sure what was going to happen.

Lucy smiled gently and said, "I'll get us something to drink while we talk. Just relax." She left the room and I could hear her moving around in the kitchen.

I felt a bit dizzy from the alcohol I had consumed and desperately confused about how I had ended up here. Just hours ago, I was a normal guy playing cards at a neighbor's house. A few foolish bets and one too many shots of tequila somehow caused me to end up dressed in a tight-fitting skirt and high heels.

My thoughts were interrupted when Lucy came back with two glasses of white wine.

"You look nervous, is this your first time?"

I nodded yes and added, "I never dressed in women's clothes before, not even in private or even in costume for Halloween."

Lucy settled into the recliner facing me and leaned forward.

"Your name isn't really Samantha, is it?"

“Hell no! I go by Sam, but only because my parents named me Sebastian Alphonse Magilicuddy. As soon as I could, I started going by Sam, I am sure you can see why.” I don't know why my parents named me the way they had. By the time I wanted to ask, I had been orphaned.

“How long have you been dressing as a woman?”

I shrugged. “What time is it?”

“About midnight,” she answered with a smile, apparently anticipating my response.

“Then the answer to your question is a little over six hours.”

Lucy's smile grew even broader. “Now hold on mate this is a story I have to hear.”

“It’s a long one!” I tried to return her smile, but it was hard.

“We have time until one o’clock tomorrow afternoon.” She sat back in her recliner.

“Did my wife really sell me to you?” I really dreaded hearing the answer to that question.

Lucy paused and wrinkled her forehead before answering, “Not exactly. That's against the law, the last time I checked. I'm surprised your wife didn’t explain it to you. Let’s say you are here more on a lend lease program.”

Now I was even more confused. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It’s kind of a quid pro quo thing. I get you as my house guest for the next twelve hours or so. In exchange, she and her friend Flo get admitted to Club Rainbow cover free for the next year.”

Hearing that I had been used like some kind of bargaining chip hit kind of hard and it must have shown on my face.
Lucy must have seen my nervousness and she hurried to reassure me. “You can relax darlin'. Nothing is going to happen that you don’t want. I'm a lot of things, but I'm not a rapist. So tell me how you came to be at the club dressed like a hot chick.”

@ @ @ @

I took a deep breath, more to organize my thoughts than anything else. The booze had pretty much worked itself out of my system, but I still felt a little unsteady.

“Alright, here is my story. My wife, Lily, gave up her job as a beautician so that we could move across town into a new apartment complex about two years ago. We made friends pretty quickly, everyone was really friendly and welcoming.

"There is this one group of five that we are close to. We get together almost every weekend and play games, mostly board games, but we've played everything from poker to charades. Most of our games are G rated but the rating scale gets stretched sometimes.

"I'm a very competitive person and I hate to lose. It happens THAT there is this one woman Florence we all call Flo. She's a wild woman and, from what she says, in her youth was into dropping acid and ate more than a few magic mushrooms.”

Lucy nodded. “Yes, I know Flo, she's a regular.”

I shrugged. "That doesn’t surprise me. She usually comes across as a butch woman. Wears her hair cut short and normally wears trousers. We pretty much have assumed that she is a lesbian. But she's nice and liked by almost everyone. Personally, I couldn't care less. I judge a person on how they act and treat others. Flo can be very unpredictable at times. It happens that she is just as competitive as me. We frequently go head to head, especially in poker. I have seen her go all in with not even a pair in her hand.

"Anyway, with this being a three day weekend, we were scheduled for game night, starting at one on Friday as soon as everyone got off work. At the last minute, my wife begged off claiming she had a headache. She insisted that I go anyway, knowing how much I enjoy these events.

"I showed up and Flo had drinks already poured. She normally dresses rather informally, but tonight she looked like she had a hot date, full makeup, lots of jewelry, and high heels. To make a long story short, one by one the others cancelled. Not wanting to let good booze go to waste, we proceeded to drink the poured glasses.

"I got up to leave and Flo challenged me to some two handed poker. I said that wasn’t my game so Flo suggested we make it interesting by not playing for chips but clothes. I had heard of strip poker but had never participated. Flo, as you know, has a really pretty face but the figure of a 12 year old boy, long and lanky and flat as a board. I tried to pass until she accused me of being chicken. A double dare if you will.

"So I accepted her challenge, then we had to set up the rules, what exactly constitutes clothes. We covered everything from earrings, to socks, to underwear all counted as one item. Realizing I was at a disadvantage because I hand less on than she. As a woman, she had a bra, slip, garter belt, nylons. You get the idea."

"She kept filling up my whisky glass as we played and things became a little fuzzy. The rule was all discarded clothes went into a communal pile. Once a person had nothing to bet and they lost a hand, the winner could select something from the pile they had to put on. The game ended when the discard pile was empty. Except for the winners' clothes.
I am really good at poker, I started out great and I don’t think I lost a single hand.”

Lucy smiled and merely said, “‘Pride goeth before a fall.’ I can see where this is going. I’m really interested, please continue.”

"Once Flo was down to her birthday suit, things began to change. I have never seen such a string of bad luck. I had difficulty counting the spots on my cards. Figuring my luck had to change, I got into trouble. All of a sudden, I couldn’t win a hand.

“Well I ended up wearing her entire outfit and she in my discards, like pants and a shirt."

Lucy commented, “Dude, you were set up!”
“I realize that now. If I hadn’t been so intoxicated, I would have figured that out when I was able to get my feet into her heels and the fact Flo’s earrings were clipped on. Come on man! What woman today doesn’t have pierced ears? Hindsight is 20/20.

"There was nothing left for me to put on. Flo did a little happy dance in celebration of winning and told me to get out because she couldn’t stand to be around losers. It was time for me to go anyway. I whined that I couldn't go out like that. Dressed like a woman and a sexy one at that. People would laugh at me, Flo lived three floors below us, so I would be exposed in either the stairwell or elevator.

"Flo had the perfect solution. if I looked like a female, it would not be a problem. She had this old blonde wig in the back of her closet, and magically produced two small breast forms for the times when she wants to get glammed up.

"All of a sudden, I almost looked like a small chested blonde woman. She wanted to put on makeup, but I said enough was enough, so we compromised with just lipstick.

"When I got up to leave, Flo reminded me that I forgot about my wallet and house keys. She threw them in a purse and out we went. She insisted on escorting me home, coaching me all the way on how to properly walk in heels and how a woman comports herself.

"We got to my apartment with no issues. I paused at the door with my keys in the lock, hesitant about how my wife would take me dressed the way I was. I swallowed hard, hoping the saliva would take some of the bite from the acid in my stomach. For the first time I knew fear.

"She must have heard my keys because she was suddenly there at the door. There I was in all my feminine finery, waiting for her reaction. Her hand flew to her mouth in shock. 'My, my who do we have here? Tell me it isn’t so. This can’t possibly be my macho husband Sam.'

"That witch Flo was standing behind me and pushed me inside and closed the door. 'No Lily, we lost Sam somewhere about the 11th floor. I brought this poor wench Samantha here for safekeeping.'

Lily barely even blinked when she looked me over. 'Samantha, is it? I like that name, please come in.'

I thought that Flo's game was finished and I really wanted to get out of her clothes. “Alright you’ve had your fun. I need to get changed.”

Lily blocked the door to our bedroom. "Sorry Missy. This room is off limits to any strange females that just wanders in off the street.”

My damned wife was really enjoying this. I could have forced my way through but I had no intention of using force on my wife.

Flo spoke up. “So, are we still going out to my club?”

Lily sighed, “Yes that was the condition of our bet. I was positive you could never get Sam to dress in your clothes. Perhaps there is something about my husband I don’t know.”

I looked up at Lucy. “I tried to explain what had happened, but the more I said the more irritated Lily got. She finally told me to shut up, I was only spewing excuses not explanations. My wife doesn’t enjoy losing either and her loss of the bet to Flo for some reason pissed her off more than I have ever seen. Flo who was about my size but considerably stronger as she spent most of her free time in the gym. She grabbed me from behind and forced me to sit in a chair in the kitchen. Then she told Lily to get her makeup bag, 'Samantha can't go out looking like this.'

Lily said, “That was your job. The bet required Sam to come home wearing makeup.”

Flo smiled and replied, “True but he is wearing lipstick, we never specified what would constitute makeup. Now we are going to my club, you agreed on that. We can’t leave Samantha here alone, who knows what kind of trouble she’ll get into. So, unless you want to embarrass all three of us, I suggest you work your magic and have our girl here ready for a night of clubbing. I suggest something slutty, so she’ll blend in with the other girls like herself. You do your thing. I’ll go change, when I come back, I’ll watch her while you get ready.”

Once Flo had left, I asked why Lily was doing this. She told me Flo had been pressuring her for weeks to go with her to a gay club. She wasn't interested in that as she had absolutely no lesbian tendencies. If I had refused Flo like the man she thought I was, Flo had agreed to stop asking. Now, because of my lack of self-control, she was going to have to go. If she was going to suffer, she intended to make sure I did too. She put her cosmetic skills to work on me, even plucking my eyebrows to thin arched ones. Lily proceeded to give me a complete makeover. Not only my face but she brought out some press-on nails and colored them bright red to match my lips.

She said she briefly thought about piercing my ears but gave up on the piercing idea because the pain from that would be over in a minute, wearing clip-on ones would pinch for the entire night. When my wife was finished with my make-up, it was thick and harsh, more like a sex worker than a glamour girl.”

@ @ @ @

"Lucy, I may not be the smartest guy around, but it was obvious I had been set up.”

Lucy, with a smirk on her face, replied, “Well du, dude. It seems to me there are sinister forces at work here so why didn’t you just refuse to go?”

I told Lucy the truth, “Flo took care of that by taking pictures of me partially and fully dressed during our card game. Obviously doing it willingly. I was terrified of her releasing those pictures.

When Flo came back, she took over guard duty while Lily put on her LBD and did her own makeup. Boy did she look hot. Looking at her I could detect a stirring in my silk panties.

Flo gave me a thorough examination and decided there was something missing. Her dress was covered in small rhinestones, she pried one off, produced a tube of super glue from her purse and attached it to the side of my nose giving the impression I have a pierced nose, only adding to my streetwalker appearance.

I was given my purse, that Flo had so kindly added a pack of condoms, lipstick, a comb, and an assortment of tampons.”

I paused to compose myself. Relating how my wife had treated me and allowed me to be treated was upsetting.

Lucy leaned in and gave me the once over. “You know Sam, your wife did a great job, not only with the makeup but the contouring does an excellent job of hiding your manly features. I have seen professional transformation studios who have done worse.

"When Flo came into the club tonight, I recognized her of course. When you came in, I thought you were totally hot. I also recognized you as a novice. A newbie. I made a mental note to keep an eye out for the beautiful young girl.”

I wasn’t sure how to react to the compliment. I asked rather girly, “Do you really think I am beautiful?”

“Are you kidding? You would have to be blind not to see your good looks. I have been in this cross-dressing business for almost fifteen years. Living full time as a woman for almost ten of those years. You, my darling, you are a natural.”

I asked, “So do you identify as a woman?”

“That is the question for the ages. I love to feel feminine but my height and weight make it so that I can never pass believably as a woman. So to answer your question, I would like to but reality has intervened. I am just a large transvestite. Who is sexually attracted to others like me. Men who dress as women.”

I thought it was nice of Lucy to open up to me like that. I wanted him to know I appreciated the way he looked out after me, kind of like a big brother or maybe more appropriately a big sister.

“I never did thank you for what you did for me tonight. That asshole was all over me, insisting we go to his apartment, when you dragged him off of me.”

Lucy smiled and nodded. “I know. I saw how handsy he was. One of the joys of being a girl my size is being a bouncer in a club like ours. It only took a little arm twisting to convince him to leave. Tranny chasers can be a big problem.”

“How did my wife end up making the deal with you?

“Actually, it was more Flo. As she explained it to me, she wanted a chance to get your wife alone for the night and your presence was a major inconvenience. She knew I had recently broken up with my boyfriend so she suggested I take you home with me. When I found out you were married, I refused. Flo talked your wife into talking with me. Apparently, as part of some sort of bet, if Flo could get you dressed and into our club and dancing with men, your wife would agree to sleep with her. Your wife was really upset that you acted like a total floozy. She wanted to embarrass you and make you suffer the way she was going to later in the evening.”

This was all new information to me. In an effort to defend my masculinity I said, “Just so you know, I only danced with every guy who asked me because Flo had continued to take pictures and told me if I didn’t, Samantha Magillicuddy would have her own Facebook page by tomorrow morning and she would post my picture and number on Craigslist.”

Lucy, who was rapidly becoming my friend, informed me, “From what I was able to ascertain, your wife wasn’t happy about her forced night of girl-on-girl sex. For some reason, she blamed you for not being man enough to stand up to Flo. So the three of us came to our current arrangement.”

Any tipsiness I had been dealing with was burned up by my anger. “Damn those witches, they treated me like property. I would love to get back at them.”

Lucy appeared to be in agreement with me as she nodded. “I’ll tell you what, let's have something to drink and put our heads together to come up with a plan.”

“Great, how about a cup of coffee?”

“Sorry no can do. As part of my lifestyle change, I gave up coffee and hard liquor. I only drink tea and wine, it is so much more genteel and ladylike.”

We spent a few hours hatching a suitable plan. It would certainly punish my wife but I wasn’t sure of the end game.

@ @ @ @

There was only one bed but Lucy promised no hanky-panky so I agreed to share it with her and sleep beside my new best friend.

I didn’t have anything to sleep in, so Lucy lent me one of her lace-covered teddies, it was a shocking bright red. On Lucy it was a short teddy, on me it was almost a full nightgown as it came to my knees. Lucy slipped into a blue side lace up nightgown. I was transfixed at Lucy’s magnificent breasts and their erect nipples and large dark areolas. What I had assumed were forms were, in reality, flesh and blood.

Lucy saw me ogling and laughed. “Like what you see?”

Like any red blooded male, I nodded yes.

“These precious beauties are the culmination of eleven years of hormones and ten thousand dollars' worth of silicone implants. I have the plastic surgeon on speed dial if you are ever interested in ditching your forms for the real thing.”

I did not feel repulsed by the offer, rather it just was not something I was interested in.

“Thanks for the offer, I can’t see myself living this lifestyle full time. It is more a transitory thing for me.”

@ @ @ @

Between the excessive alcohol, stressful days, and late hours, I fell asleep almost immediately.

I woke a good seven hours later, finding myself spooned up against Lucy. That was alright in and of itself, but it was what was nestled between the crack of my ass that disturbed me.

Lucy woke and apologized saying it was only his morning woodie. I was safe, shielded by 0.05 mm of nylon.

He rolled over onto his back and his nightdress was tented in a very unladylike manner. He saw me staring and commented, “If you think that is something, when my last boyfriend, that two timing bitch, was here our combined morning woodies looked like a small forest.”

Trying to be casual about our current predicament I inquired, “What happened with him?”

“Double D Dora, was a professional drag queen. I thought we had a good thing going until I came home early one night and caught her in my bed with some muscle bound ape that was a regular at her act. I shouldn’t say that, it is disparaging to apes everywhere. I threw her out, she left in a real hurry trying to avoid my wrath. Leaving a lot of her stuff behind.”

@ @ @ @

“Let’s get up, we have a busy day ahead of us. We’ll start by selecting a more eye-catching bosom for you." He pointed to a chest of drawers in the corner. "In that dresser over there, you’ll find forms listed alphabetically, A through F, they belonged to my ex.

"What do you feel like? You were wearing C’s yesterday. "No offense. They were nice but did nothing to make you stand out. I think we should start with D’s and see how it goes.”

I frowned. "Why so large?

"It's called deflection. It's like a magic trick. You want people to pay attention to something other than your face. With large boobs, hips, and ass, they won’t be looking too closely at things like broad shoulders, Adam's apple and large hands.”

I nodded. “I see what you're saying, but what will I do for a bra?”

“If we bump you up to DD, you can use one of mine.”

“Oh, goodie what I always aspired to be, a big busted blonde bimbo.” My smile let him know that I meant no offense with my statement.

He returned my smile with a grin. “Sam, we don’t want to stop there. I have a dozen padded panties that make excellent gaffs as well as giving you a curvy shape.”

Something had been bothering me at the back of my mind since I had arrived here and I finally realized what it was.

“Can I ask you a favor? While I'm like this," I swept my hands along my torso, "Could you call me Samantha? It just seems more appropriate. He responded with an understanding nod.

Digging around in a closet, I discovered his ex had left a few dozen pairs of shoes behind. I found a pair of platforms with six-inch heels that fit reasonably well. If I was going to dress like a harlot, why not go all the way?

So that is what we went with, all aim at a big surprise for my wife and her lesbian friend.

Lucy sat me down to do my makeup. He limited his selection to the cosmetics left behind by his stage performing drag queen. It was the more outlandish ones used for stage performances. Glittery eyeshadow, and lip gloss. Our intention was to make an impression not to blend in. He next took one of his ex’s big haired wigs down and attached it to my head.

When Lucy was done, I looked like a big haired large chested big booty blonde bimbo. Everything was then packed into an overnight bag Lucy had laying around.

Lucy then proceeded to get dressed. At some point in the process, I found myself thinking of Lucy as her instead of him. It was a bit confusing to me and rather interesting at the same time.

She wore a classy three-piece skirt suit with clunky 4 inch heels. Her makeup was minimal. No purse, her keys and wallet went into the suit's pockets. Gone was the bouncer from the bar and a confident woman stood in her place, even if she gave off a manly impression. She would never be a centerfold model, but she was not unattractive either.

I put on the dress from last night but Lucy took me shopping at one of the most upscale boutiques in town. The prices on the gowns would choke a horse, Lucy told me not to worry as long as we left the tags on and didn’t spill anything on them we could return them tomorrow. A free rental is what she called it.

Our next stop was at a pawn shop, where we picked out the largest, most gaudy engagement ring we could find. Glass of course, but it was never intended for close scrutiny. A quick stop at a nail salon where my hands were given a first class treatment. Elongated and painted in blood red to match my lips. Our last stop was to a travel agent where we bought two tickets to a small in-state airport. It was only the illusion we were going for.

We drove to my apartment building and parked in a visitor's allotted spot.

For me the walk to the elevators was nerve racking, I passed several residents that I knew by face if not by name. Lucy, my protector, kept her arm around my shoulders and walked proudly to the lift doors. We rode up to my floor. I paused at the door and took several deep breaths steadying myself for the performance of my life. We were almost an hour late in returning. Rather than using my key, I knocked on the door and waited for someone to open it. An eye showed at the peep hole but Lucy was blocking their view of me.

The door swung open and Lily stood in the doorway, hands on her hips. Lily commented, “You’re an hour late, where the hell have you been?”

“We had some shopping to do," I responded mildly.

Flo was behind my wife and demanded to know what we were shopping for.”

Lucy pulled me into the room. I stepped in front of her. The late afternoon sunlight caught the dust in the air, adding a sense of normalcy to the scene. The room seemed very quiet; the noise of the distant traffic muted. Time passed. Lucy said, “Samantha, sweetheart, show the ladies.”

I held out my left hand with a limp wrist and showed them my ring. They looked puzzled so I said, “Oh, come on aren’t you going to congratulate me? We’re getting married!”

At that point, Lucy went totally off script. She took me firmly in her arms, pulled me in tight and bent me backwards before giving me a very passionate kiss. It felt like I was falling, either from how I was being held or the kiss and I had no choice but to throw my arms around Lucy to keep from falling. The surprise attack combined with the fervor of the kiss, literally took my breath away. Until this very moment, I hadn’t recognized the intensity of the sexual tension that had built up between us.

Lucy stood me back up and steadied me to keep me from falling over. My heart was racing and threatening to jump out of my chest. All I could do was stand still, panting with my eyes closed. The only sound that escaped me was, “WOW!”

Flo sucked in a lungful of air and Lily fainted dead away, collapsing to the floor.

Lucy bent over and picked up Lily and placed her on the sofa. I went to get a damp cloth and came back to revive Lily. She shook her head to clear the cobwebs, her breath seemed a bit labored. She consciously released the tension from her muscles and opened her eyes. “What did you say?”

Playing my part perfectly I replied, “We just stopped by to give you the good news and ask if you two would be bridesmaids at our wedding. If it hadn’t been for you two, we never would have found each other. So we owe it all to you girls.”

I held up the airline tickets and added, “We fly out tomorrow to get married in Vegas at one of those tacky chapels. Sure hope you can join us.”

Lily’s mouth was opening and closing like a guppy out of water but no sound was coming out.

Lucy added, “Say I have an idea! Why don’t you two love birds join us and we can make it a double ceremony.”

Flo spoke up, “Who said anything about marriage? Lily, I like you and last night was fun but nothing more than a temporary diversion. I’m sorry I am not ready to get tied down.”

I've always heard the saying about fiery eyes, but I would not have been surprised to see flames come from my wife's eyes at that point.

Lily spat out angrily, “Why you fucking asshole! You force me into having sex with you. And now you tell me I am just a one night stand? What I am not good enough for you? If anything, you aren’t that good. My husband Sam is a much better pussy licker than you!”

I thought the two women were going to come to blows. Lucy stepped between them. “Calm down girls, no cat fights. Someone might get hurt. Why don’t you kiss and makeup like good little lesbian bitches.”

The fire in Lily's eyes was suddenly turned on Lucy.

“Fuck you too you freak of nature! Flo is a three-star bitch, but she has opened my eyes to some things. Maybe I have been too conventional in my thinking. I believe it’s time to broaden my horizons and experience new things. The only one I want to kiss is that lovely dish of femininity standing behind you. God is she hot, I am getting wet just looking at her.”

Looking me in the eye she said, "Sam I'm sorry, this all just got out of hand. Can you forgive me?”

I was heartily satisfied with how things had turned out, but Lily's insult to Lucy bothered me.

“I don’t know. I might be able to forgive you, since I am not a priest you will have to work for your absolution. Before we let these two show themselves out and we go into the bedroom to discuss your penance, really think that you owe Lucy an apology. If these past twenty-four hours have taught me anything, it's that everyone lives the way they are most comfortable and what is right for them. Lucy has a right to the same respect and regard that any one of us do.”

Lily looked at me for a moment. I don't know if she thought I was crazy or if she was surprised I would stand up for the person she thought I had been forced to sleep with.

She turned back to Lucy and said, "He's totally right. Lucy, I'm sorry for what I said, I was angry at my own actions and I did not think about what I was saying."

Lucy acknowledged Lily's apology with a slight bow. She and I both knew that Lily's apology was heartfelt, but her outburst indicated that she had a way to go in acceptance of other lifestyles. The fact that she had spent the night with Flo and expected me to spend the night with Lucy was quite a contradiction.

We headed away from the door while Lucy and Flo prepared to leave.

I had been shocked at what Lily had said about her assignation with Flo. We had always had a good sex life but I had never been complimented before so I asked, “Am I really that good at oral?”

Lily hugged me with one arm. “Honey there is no comparison.”

As we disappeared into the bedroom, I heard Lucy ask Flo, “Couldn’t convert her I guess.”

“Hay, Rome wasn’t built in a day. I think I had her on the fence until you showed up with this circus.”

Lucy, took Flo by the hand, “Your place or mine? I haven’t tasted pussy in a while. What do you say?”

End

A twenty-something slacker with no hope encounters the SRU wizard and grows up.

Foreword:

This is the first story that I have written that I felt worthy of being read by others. Your comments and criticisms are more than welcome.

I would like to thank Marina Kelly for her assistance in improving this story from its dry, clinical origins into is readable state. Her stories have been a valuable guide for me.

Thank you
- Monica Rose.

SRU — The Engagement Ring

Linda began to tear-up when the wizard told her, "I'm sorry Linda, but I can't do anything to help you. I told you to drink the red potion after the girl you loved drank the green potion. I even told you to read the instructions. I can see that you didn't do any of that and here you are." He gestured to her and put his hands into the pockets of his bathrobe.

"But I didn't mean for it to happen this way." She was starting to cry now. "She put her drink down for a minute and Jake picked it up and drank it. And this happened to me!" She held her arms out to display a very cute blonde girl, with rather large breasts. "Apparently Jake likes his women young with big tits. When I'm near him, I'm practically his slave and I can't stay aware from him for long before I have to go running back to him."

The wizard nodded. "That's the nature of that particular love potion. It makes the person who drinks the green potion become the dream lover of whoever drinks the red potion. It's one of my more popular items. Now the spell is very strong because it has just taken effect. I can't break the spell with anything in the shop so that you can turn back to Jason. As time goes by, the spell will get weaker though. I promise that I will try to find a counterpotion, but for now, you are going to have to accept that you are Linda, Jake's little love slave." His smile was not cruel, but it left no doubt that he appreciated how Linda filled her skirt and halter top.

Linda sobbed and left the shop crying. The wizard watched her leave, somewhat saddened by Linda's outburst. Even when people got into silly situations because of their own foolishness, it did not give him much amusement. The only real satisfaction he got was helping those who needed him and teaching lessons to those who truly deserved the adverse results from some of his spells. His attention jumped as he realized that he would need to move a little faster. His next customer would not be coming into the shop and he needed to go to him.

He studied the young man from the other side of the food court. Judging by the sparse whiskers that he had not shaved off and the softness of his features, his subject appeared to be just out of his teen years, The boy, and yes he could still be called that, looked to be about average height, blonde with light-colored eyes. The longer the wizard watched him; he could see that the young man was one of those who needed his help, rather than deserving his attention. The distinction between those two types of clientele was light-years apart. As the boy started to leave the table, the wizard could see that the time was coming to introduce himself.

* * * * *

Tom sat in the food court just staring at his soda. He was so far down that what little activity there was at this hour in the mall barely even registered.

He didn't know what to do. He was almost out of money and couldn't pay the rent on the apartment. His roommate seemed to have dropped out of sight and Tom couldn't find him. He wished that he had worked harder in high school so that he could get a job, but he could not get anyone to give him a chance to show that his paper grades were only one measure of his value. He couldn't go home, his mother really did not want him there anymore and she had already refused to lend him more money. She just acted like he had let her down and told him that she had nothing more to give him.

The more Tom thought about his lack of options, the more lonely and depressed he became. He was a failure as a student and a son, his roommate had apparently moved out without telling him, and he did not have a job that would support him. His mood deepened even further when he saw the crying girl that came running out of the queer little store across the mall and tears started to form in his eyes as well. Seeing someone that was having as bad a time as he was pulled on him somehow and he made his way over to her to see if he could help.

"Excuse me, miss. Do you need some help?" His voice was a little hoarse from his own crying.

As he touched her shoulder to get her attention, she jumped and gave an abbreviated scream. She pulled back from him, hiding her face in apparent shame. "Leave me alone! The last thing I need is some asshole hitting on me!"

Tom watched the girl stomp off down the mall. Even though he didn't know the girl, her words hurt. He couldn't even help somebody who obviously needed it. His shoulders slumped even further as more tears filled his eyes. He suddenly realized that he was standing at the railing of the food court, overlooking the shopping plaza three floors below. The longer he stood at the rail, the easier the thoughts came to him that all he would have to do would be to let go and this pain would stop. He wouldn't have to worry about what to do next, where to live, or how to support himself. The sadness that he knew his mother would feel barely pushed back at the black cloud that seemed to be edging in around his vision. He knew that she would be hurt; he hoped that she wouldn't take his death too hard. Actually, he wasn't thinking too much about her because he just was not thinking at the moment.

He hadn't realized that he was leaning so far over the railing until he was pulled back by a strong grip on his shoulder. "You don't want to do that, do you Tom?"

Tom's head snapped around to see an old man standing next to him, wearing what looked like a bathrobe. He could have been anywhere from sixty to eighty years old, the white hair and scraggly beard were almost like camouflage on him. But Tom's eyes were drawn to the old man's gaze. His clear blue eyes looked steadily at Tom and were definitely not the eyes of an old man and they seemed to look right through him.

The shock of the moment wore off quickly and Tom realized what he had been about to do. The stress and emotions of the past hours suddenly broke over him like a wave and he crumpled to the floor crying. "I'm sorry…I'm sorry," was all he could say. The horror of what he had been prepared to do almost caused him to pass out.

Giving Tom a moment to let the emotions peak and begin to settle, the wizard knelt beside him and put his hand on his shoulder. "I understand Tom. Why don't we go over to my store so that you can tell me what the problem is." He already knew what was wrong, between looking into Tom and touching him, he knew more about Tom than the boy did himself. Tom allowed himself to be helped to his feet and they walked around to the store that Tom had thought was so strange before. He did not notice that the few people already present in the mall paid absolutely no attention to him or the old man and acted like there had not been an almost-tragedy there a moment before.

As they entered into the store, a bell rang above their heads. Tom looked up to see it, but there was nothing there. "I thought that I heard a bell," he said.

The old man nodded and said, "Yes, I really don't need it, but people expect it when they open a door. So I have the bell ring when the door opens."

"But there's no bell up there," Tom said, pointing to the top of the door. "I know that I heard one."

"Are you sure?" the old man asked. A small smile played on his face.

"Yes, how do you get it to sound like there is a bell when there isn't one?" But when Tom looked back to the door, there was a bell dangling above the door. Tom was quite sure that there had not been a bell there before.

"Don't worry about it Tom, I was just showing off. Why don't you have a seat here and we'll talk," the old man gestured to a small table and chairs off to one side of the store. Tom was sure that they had not been there a moment before.

"Still showing off?" Tom thought.

"Sorry, I couldn't help it." The old man was grinning at Tom's surprise.

"How did you do that?"

"Okay, I'll explain this to you once, so pay attention. I have a sign around here that explains it, but it gets lost every time I move the store. The reason why things seem to appear when they did not seem to be there before and how I know your name is that I am a wizard. A bona-fide, card-carrying, magical wizard."

Tom's sense of self-preservation kicked in suddenly and he realized that he was talking with a lunatic. Having just seated himself at the table, he began to stand saying, "Okay…That's interesting." He began to move toward the door. "Thank you for keeping me from making the biggest mistake of my life, but I need to get to work now."

The wizard did not stand or even move, but he said, "Tom. We both know that you have no job to go to. I know that you think that I'm a lunatic and that it scares you. You need to understand that I can help you with the problem you think you have. Please sit down." He gestured to the chair Tom had just vacated.

Tom was obviously reluctant as he sat back down and the wizard could feel Tom's nervousness and fear. "What do you want from me?"

"I don't want anything from you. I was drawn here by your aura of pain and frustration. Now, why don't you explain to me what the problem is." It was an old psych trick. Even if you know the problem, get the patient to tell you what the problem is so that they could acknowledge a remedy.

Tom almost started crying again. "I've screwed up my life! I wasted my time in high school and now I can't get a job or into college to work towards getting a job! I let my mother down and now she'll hardly talk to me and I have no way to survive! I wish that I hadn't been born!" Tom's voice seemed to get louder and tenser with each sentence he spit out.

The wizard sat there nodding, "I thought that was problem, but I needed to hear it from you. So…Let me make sure that I understand. What you would really like is to just to live a different life, correct?"

Tom sat there for a moment and said, "Yeah. I guess so. I really screwed up this one. I just think that someone else could have done a better job with my life than I have. I had fun growing up instead of applying myself and I've pissed everything away and now I'm stuck in a dead-end with no way out!"

The wizard smiled. Not necessarily a completely friendly smile, but more of a concentrating, planning smile. "I believe that the best thing for you is what I like to call a teaching opportunity." He went over to the counter at the back of the store and took out a small box. Bringing it back to the table, he set it before Tom.

Inside, Tom found a typical ring box that might be from any jewelry store. Inside that he found a woman's engagement ring. "What is this for?"

"That is a lady's engagement ring. The rest of the wedding set has been lost over the years, but this ring is still rather powerful." He stopped Tom from taking the ring from its resting place and said, "There is something that I need to do first." He took the box from Tom and folded his hands around the box. Closing his eyes, he concentrated a moment before opening them again and put the box back down before Tom.

"Now, I'm going to explain everything about this ring to you. Normally, I would just sell the ring to a customer and tell them to read the instructions. That is what I generally do to the customers who deserve my attention. You know: caveat emptor, buyer beware? However, I think that you will get more out this if you know exactly what this ring does and what it will mean to you."

From the moment you put this ring on your hand, you will be the woman that you would have been born as one. Reality itself will change so that Tom Andrews never existed. However, you will turn back into Tom for one hour every night at midnight. If you remove the ring and leave it off, you will remain in the form you are in at that time, which could be a problem if you take the ring off while you are Tom. Also, once you take the ring off and leave it off for more than one hour, it will not work for you again, so be very sure of what you are doing."

"Sounds a little like Cinderella," Tom said with a grin. The thought of becoming a girl was more than a little exciting. He had never told anyone of some of his fantasies along those lines. It didn't occur to him that the wizard might already know.

"Where do you think they got the idea for the story? Of course, they changed the facts around to make the story readable. Okay…for the hour you are Tom, no one will know you. Tom Andrews will not officially exist anywhere."

"This ring sounds like a curse."

"It used to be. It was created by a wizard whose daughter wanted to get married, but he didn't think that the two lovers were ready. He sold the ring to his daughter's fiancée who then presented it to the daughter. At that point, the ring's spell took effect: the two lovers changed forms every twelve hours. The intent of the spell was to make two of them see what life was like from the viewpoint of the other. Sadly, the engagement didn't last. Now, I was able to modify the spell somewhat. I have fixed it so that you will only change back for one hour out of twenty-four. If I try to do too much to the spell, it would stop working altogether. You should consider the use of this ring to be a loan for the next thirty days. At the end of that time, you need to bring it back to me and you will be able to decide whether that is the life that should have been lived or if you want to return to being Tom. I can restore reality to its current form if that is what you decide."

"What would I have to do?"

"Just put the ring on. You will become the person you would have been if you had born a girl. You and I will be the only ones who will remember that you were Tom. Keep in mind that there is much more to being a woman than looking pretty and wearing nice clothes. You are going to be a woman for the next month and you will be exposed to just some of what a woman will experience. Are you prepared for that?"

Tom nodded as he reached for the ring before him. "I just put the ring on?"

As he took the ring out of the box, the wizard put his hand over Tom's to stop him. "One last thing…I cannot warn you enough that if you happen to have sex while you are a woman and become pregnant, the spell will stop working. Meaning that you will not be able to return to your male form. At that point, you might was well think about using this magic ring as a real engagement ring."

Tom pulled his hand back and looked at the wizard. "If I have sex as a girl and get pregnant, I'll be stuck? I can't imagine that happening." He took the ring out and went to put it on.

When it did not fit the finger he was trying, the wizard said, "Try your left hand. After all, it is an engagement ring."

As the ring slid on to his ring finger, the small diamond in the ring began to glow. As the glow intensified, Tom could feel his body tingling with the spread of the glow. Inside the bubble of light, Tom became shorter as his waist thinned and his hips grew outward. His short, uncombed hair grew wildly and formed itself into shiny golden waves that brushed his shoulders. As his face shifted and lost its boyish appearance, Tom's appearance went from a young man to a young woman. Her eyes, still closed in ecstasy, were set a little farther apart, above a nose that was positively cute. Her face narrowed, with the cheeks smoothing themselves out and terminating in full lips. Her closed eyes clenched even further as her breasts formed and blossomed quickly from her chest, the nipples prominent as they pushed through Tom's shirt. Finally, Tom's clothes faded from sight as they were replaced with a neat cotton blouse and a skirt that fell to just above her knees. Tom's ratty sneakers were replaced with low-heeled shoes. Once the glow and the tingling had faded away, she relaxed and opened her eyes, revealing orbs of piercing deep blue. The ring on her finger faded out of sight.

All she could say was, "Wow!" Her voice was low, almost sultry, with a lyrical quality to it. Hearing her voice for the first time caused her to look at the wizard and then down at her own body. From her vantage point, she saw what appeared to be, to her at least, large breasts in a white blouse floating between her nose and a pair of shapely legs sticking out of denim skirt. Her now dainty hands grasped her breasts for a moment and brushed down to her skirt and exposed legs.

She looked up at the wizard and said, "I really am a girl?"

The wizard smiled and nodded. "My dear, you are beautiful. I'm afraid though that you present the image of a typical blue-eyed blond. You will shock a lot of people when they find out that you are anything but."

"I…I'm not sure that I want this after all," she said. "I didn't really believe you in the first place and I think that I was happy the way I was." She went to pull the ring off her finger and realized that it was not there. "The ring's gone!" The panic in her eyes and voice were very apparent.

"Yes. Part of the spell causes the ring to only be present on your finger for the hour that you transform back to your male form and for one hour after that. During that time you would be able to remove the ring. But…you will be locked in the form you are in when you remove the ring. The ring's spell as rewritten reality so that you do not exist as a guy, only as a girl. At the end of that time, you will automatically return to being Tom and reality will switch back to the way it was. But…only if you continue to wear the ring."

"But I don't want this!"

"I'm sorry, but now that you have triggered the spell, I cannot turn it off. That is how things work here. All you can do is work through to the end of the spell," the wizard said calmly. His attitude was helping to pull Tom down from his panic-driven mental ledge. "As long as you remember the warnings I gave you, you will be fine and no harm will come to you. Look at this next month as learning how to cope with the situation you found yourself in."

She took a deep breath and relaxed. If she looked at it from that viewpoint, it would be more like a vacation from herself, or was it himself? "This isn't really what I would have been like if I had born this way is it?"

"Well, it is for the most part. The spell also draws upon your image of what you want to look and sound like also. Seeing that you were also a guy, it's understandable that some of this is also your ideal of a girl. Even if you thought like a girl, you would still have been influenced by those stereotypes. Don't worry about it though. You'll get used to how you feel and you will actually project your own self-image over time. Now, tell me about yourself."

"My name is Paula Diane Andrews. I live at home with my mother," she stopped at that revelation, obviously surprised. "I'm starting a new job here in the mall today and I'll be studying nursing at the university in the fall."

The wizard nodded, acknowledging Paula's surprise. "Yes. In this reality, Paula Andrews understood the need to apply herself to whatever she worked at. I suggest that you do not try to tell you mother about all of this. She wouldn't understand and, besides, this is Paula's reality for the next thirty days.

"A word of advice about that. You should avoid letting anyone see you shift between Paula and Tom's forms. If someone does see you, you wouldn't be able to explain what is happening. I have found that most people reject the existence of magic."

The wizard handed Paula a purse that was now lying on the table before her and said, "Here is your purse. You have information on the job that you applied for in there." Paula smiled at the wizard and gave him a hug before she trotted out of the store.

"She turned out rather well, don't you think?" The wizard looked over at the stuffed wolf sitting beside the check-out counter.

The wolf turned its head and looked at the wizard. "Yes, she is very pretty. How do you think the next month will turn out for her?"

"I think that it will be both rewarding and educational for her."

* * * * *

Paula looked in her purse for the information about the job that she would be starting. Sure enough, she found that she had a job at the new Hooters here in the mall. She slowed down as she thought about the fact that she would working at a T & A restaurant. It was probably more of the wizard's teasing, like when he had been showing off. Well, it would allow her to become more comfortable with being Paula and she could always quit if she didn't like it. She paused for a moment when it occurred to her that she was probably thinking like Tom. She decided that she would give the job an honest try before deciding whether to quit it or not.

She made good time walking down the mall, looking for the restaurant and she was at the entrance in no time. She went in and looked around for the manager. She knew that she was early for her shift and that this was her first day. She saw the assistant manager, Dave, and went over.

"Ah, Paula." He looked her over and Paula felt a little dirty from the way his eyes lingered on her breasts and waist. "You're a few minutes early, but we can get you started with learning the register now if you would like. I think that we'll have you work the register today and start training you on being a server tomorrow. I've got someone else starting as a server today, so we can stagger the training for the next couple of days. Does that sound good to you?"

"Sure, that's fine with me. Is what I'm wearing okay for the register? I think that Steve told me that this would be okay for today."

"Yes, it's fine." Again, the way he looked at her let her know that he liked what he saw. "Just remember to wear the T-shirt, shorts, and sneakers when you come in tomorrow. I know that the uniform can make you feel uncomfortable, so you can wear something else to work and change in the back."

Dave was all business as he drilled her about running the cash register. Paula found that she had memories of previous part-time jobs where she had done similar work and she was able to draw on that information as Dave showed her what to do. It was obvious that her previous jobs had helped her get hired here. It was also obvious that her appearance had also been a factor.

Finally, Dave was satisfied that she knew what she was doing and left her for the remainder of her shift in order to handle other parts of the dining room. She handled the job easily and her comfort and confidence with the job came through to her co-workers and customers. Her warm smile and friendly attitude helped to relax some testy customers. After all, the first day for the restaurant was expected to result in a few foul-ups that needed to be smoothed over. She received a couple of compliments that were expressed to Steve and Dave.

When she was relieved to take her lunch break, Paula was surprised to find that the new waitress was the same girl that she had seen running away from the Spells 'R' Us store earlier in the morning. She decided not to say anything in case it might upset the other girl, but she tried to strike up a conversation anyway.

"Hi, I'm Paula."

Linda smiled back and said, "I'm Linda. How do you like being a hostess? You're really good at it."

Paula blushed and said, "Thank you. I've done something like it before and it's kind of fun. Dave told me that I'm supposed to start learning the server side to tomorrow. I haven't done that before, so I'm not sure what it will be like."

"Oh, it's not too bad. I was afraid of doing it too, but I was actually more worried about having to deal with being groped by the customers."

Paula said in surprise, "If you were worried about that, why did you come to work here?"

Linda shrugged and said, "My boyfriend wanted me to get a job and he knew they were hiring here. So he told me to apply."

Paula noticed that when Linda talked about her boyfriend, even a little, she tended to get a little dreamy-eyed. She found it to be a little creepy, but she explored it anyway. "What's your boyfriend like?"

"Oooh. He's a biker. He has all of these friends down at some warehouse where he works. He leaves in the morning to go down there and I'm always waiting for him when he comes home at night, just like he tells me to."

Paula was even more creeped out by the way Linda answered and she quickly changed the subject. They chatted about work and other subjects, but Paula made sure to stay away from the subject of Linda's boyfriend. Fortunately, their lunch break ended soon after and they both went back to work. Regardless of how Linda acted and talked about her boyfriend, Paula found herself liking the other girl.

Finally, she was able to punch out. Because the restaurant was just starting up in the mall, the managers were still filling positions. Paula had ended up agreeing to work a longer shift to cover for the shortage of other employees, as had a few others.

She was in the back of the store to punch out when Dave blocked her path out of the office. His look alone let Paula know what he had in mind and she wanted no part of it. "How about going for a drink?" His tone of voice let it be known that he was not expecting her to refuse.

"I'm afraid not Dave," Paula said. "I'm tired and I just want to go home and relax. I have to be back here tomorrow morning." She stood back and did not try to push past him in the close quarters. He was bigger and undoubtedly stronger than she was. For the first time all day, Paula missed being Tom. He might not have been tougher than Dave, but he could have done some damage, but then Tom wouldn't be in this situation anyway.

"Hey…Don't worry about having to work hard," he answered. He started to ease toward her. "I can help you out with the work load."

Paula had backed up to the wall away from Dave and had nowhere else to go. She was preparing to start yelling, kicking and scratching when a voice spoke up from behind Dave. "What's going on?" Even though she could not see her, Paula recognized Linda's voice. "Leave her alone!"

Dave turned to look at the other girl and growled, "Go away Linda. Paula and I were just about to go for a drink."

"No she wasn't! I heard her tell you that. I've seen you drooling after her all day. Now leave her alone!"

Dave backed up from Paula and turned toward Linda. "Linda, you're fired! Get out of here!"

Paula saw red at that point and stepped forward. Even though Dave was almost six inches taller than she was, she stepped up to him, put her hand against his chest, and pushed. Not expecting this behavior from someone smaller than he was, Dave backed up to the opposite wall in a sort of stumble. Paula ended up with her hand against his chest and her face thrust towards his. It did not escape the notice of either of them that her knee was between his legs and positioned to do major damage to his balls.

"No, she is not!" Paula said flatly. Any musical quality her voice had when she spoke was replaced by an intense, angry tone.

"She just stopped you from assaulting me and you are going to leave HER alone." Paula emphasized the her to acknowledge that Linda had just saved her also. "Now…We like working here and we're willing to forget this. But if you pull something like this again on anybody or try to take it out on Linda, I'll put you in jail where you'll have boyfriends doing to you what you wanted to do to me!"

Linda was looking on in awe that a smaller girl had taken a letch as big as Dave. There was some applause from across the kitchen from some of the other servers who had heard the raised voices and stopped to watch. Obviously, the exchange between Paula and Dave had not been as private as he had thought.

Paula stepped back from Dave and he relaxed, "Hey…I didn't mean any harm. I was just trying to be friendly and I got carried away." It was obvious that he was trying to smooth things over and make things seem less threatening.

"Okay," Paula said. "As long as we're all friends and this doesn't happen again." She walked out of the office and went out through the restaurant. Linda fell into step next to her and they headed down the mall. Paula stopped at a bench and dropped on to it. She was shaking a little and took a deep breath to relax.

"Are you okay now?" Linda asked.

"Yeah, now I am. I guess I wasn't thinking when I got in his face, but jerks like that make me mad. I'm lucky that he didn't take a swing at me!" Paula wiped some tears from her eyes.

"I know what you mean," Linda replied. "I know of some guys in school who had the same attitude. A friend of mine told them off and they eventually grew out of it. Fortunately, they didn't hang around together or they probably would have beaten him up." Paula nodded. She remembered those types from high school from her new memories and Tom's old memories.

Looking in her purse, Paula found car keys, which was a surprise as Tom had not had a car. The girls headed out to the parking lot where Paula found that she owned an older model compact car, she hadn't owned a car as Tom. She offered a ride to Linda and she discovered that Linda only lived a few blocks from the mall. Paula dropped the other girl at her apartment and headed for home, wondering what it would be like in this version of reality.

Paula was more than a little nervous as she pulled into the driveway of the house. This morning, she had been Tom and had been told that he probably should not come home again and now she was Paula, who lived at home with her mother. She found her mother watching the news recap in the living room, sipping a cup of coffee.

"Hi, honey. How was your first day at work?" Her mother smiled warmly at her.

After a moment, Paula said, "It was okay. I worked a shift and a half as the cashier and hostess. I already knew what I was doing though. Tomorrow, Dave plans on starting my orientation as a server and I'm going to have to wear the 'uniform'." She imitated quote marks with her fingers and she held up the required shorts and T-shirt that Dave had given her before she left work.

Her stomach growled loudly and she grinned. "Are there any leftovers from dinner? I ate something at lunch, but that was a long time ago. I didn't get a chance to eat anything after I finished my second shift." She debated about relating what had happened with Dave.

"I haven't eaten yet. I was waiting for you to come home from your first day so that I could find out how it went. Want to help me?"

She stood and headed for the kitchen with Paula trailing behind her. This woman was very different from the mother Tom remembered. Where Tom's mother had been quiet and withdrawn, this version of her was almost the opposite. Paula could not bring herself to believe that just having a daughter instead of a son could make this great a change in her. They prepared a cold dinner for themselves and sat at the table talking.

"Mom, did you ever imagine what it would have been like if I had been born a boy?"

"Paula, I have to confess that before you were born, I was afraid that you were going to be a boy. After all of the meanness that your father put me through before I divorced him, I really did not care for guys at all. The therapist that I've been seeing has helped me to see that and I have really made a lot of progress. I don't think that I ever thanked you for insisting that I see someone to help me." She put her hand on Paula's and squeezed.

Tears sprang to life and threatened to blind Paula as new memories suddenly flooded into her thoughts, reminding her that her mother had been like what Tom remembered up until the time she had started high school. Paula had seen that her mother was having emotional problems that had gotten worse over time and she had worked hard to get her mother to get help. She couldn't believe that she had been so blind as Tom to have not seen the pain that his / her mother had been in. This obviously explained why Tom had been treated the way he had…It was not necessarily his revelation that he felt he was more of a girl than a boy or his lackadaisical attitude to life…it was because his mother had been so damaged that she did not know how to deal with it.

The tears were flowing easily as Paula hugged her new mother and told her, "I'm so glad that you did. I'm glad that I was born a girl so that I could help you."

"Me too, dear." Her mother was smiling through tears as well.

They spent the rest of the evening talking about Paula's new job. Paula told her about how Dave had tried to make a pass at her and how Linda had stepped in. Her mother was concerned about Paula staying there until Paula explained how the whole confrontation had been resolved. While she relaxed somewhat, her mother did think that it might be best if Paula looked around for another job. Paula agreed that might be best and they moved on to making plans for shopping on the weekend.

Finally, Paula realized that she was tired and that she needed to be safely in her room before the midnight hour. The two women cleaned up what little mess they had made and said their good-nights. Paula was safe in her room and she knew that her mother had had time to go to sleep well before the time appointed for her retransformation was reached.

Right at midnight, the ring appeared on her hand and began to glow. The glow was not quite as intense this time and the tingling was just as pleasurable as Paula quickly became Tom. Once the transformation was complete, Tom found himself sitting on the edge of the bed where he had been seated as Paula moments before. He took inventory and found that he was wearing the same clothes that he had had on that morning in the wizard's store. It looked like he was going to be wearing the same clothes for the next month. By the time he had to return the ring to the wizard, he was definitely going to need a change.

Sitting back on the bed, he looked at the ring on his hand and reflected upon what happened over the day. The difference he had seen in his mother was surprising to say the least. As Tom, he had not seen anything unusual about his mother or her behavior. But as Paula, she had seen that her mother was in trouble and had had the wisdom and confidence to push her to get the help she needed. Had he really been that self-involved or had he been just plain clueless?

The other thing that stuck in his mind was how Paula almost being assaulted had made him feel small and vulnerable. He hated feeling like that and resolved that he would never let himself or herself be put in that position again.

Knowing that he could not safely move around the house without getting caught, Tom spent most of the hour exploring Paula's room. It was very definitely a girl's room. Not too girly, but then Paula was now a young woman and not a love-sick teenager pining over some heart-throb's poster. Paula did appear to like teddy bears, as she had a small collection of them on her bookshelves and a good-sized one on her bed. Tom shook his head as he could not picture himself cuddling with a teddy bear. Paula's reading interests appeared to parallel his own though as he saw several romance novels and college catalogs stacked on her study desk. Knowing that he would have the next month to explore, he spent the rest of the hour leafing through a magazine until the hour was up and he became Paula again.

As Paula again, she prepared for bed. She waited the full hour after her transformation and watched the ring fade from sight again. She felt her finger and could find no sign that the ring was present. Well, now she knew what to expect if she or Tom decided to end the wizard's lesson. She made a mental note to get more magazines and books so that she would not be bored for the hour that she spent as Tom. Even though she thought that the whole experience that she had been through for the day had her too keyed up for sleep, she was gone in minutes.

* * * *

Her mother had left for work by the time she woke the next morning. A note mentioned that she would be working a little later into the evening and asked that Paula stop by the grocery on her way home from work. She tucked the shopping list into her purse and headed out the door to her own job. She felt a little self-conscious wearing the abbreviated shorts, but she quickly adjusted as Paula's memories pointed out that it was similar to the bathing suit she had worn last year. She was still more conservatively dressed than that and she knew that she looked good and she relaxed.

At the mall, she took the time to stop by the Spells 'R' Us store as she wanted to talk to the wizard. She was startled that she could not find the store when she went to the food court. Not being able to find the store was even scarier than what she had already experienced. What if she could not find the store when it was time? Would she be doomed to remain Paula or would the ring just stop working and leave him in Tom's form in an even worse situation than he had begun? Even while she thought about this, she walked down the mall to work. The Paula side of her seemed to step up and take charge. She decided that she would just have to get through the next month and worry about what to do when her time ran out. If she ended up as Paula forever, she could think of far worse things to happen.

At work, she found herself assigned to being a cashier and hostess again, even though she had expected to be working on the floor as a server. It annoyed her somewhat that she was unable to begin earning tips and she suspected that her incident with Dave the previous day had something to do with it.

When she confronted Steve about it, he explained that it was something else entirely and that he just had not had the opportunity to speak with her. Apparently, the witnesses to the confrontation between Dave and herself and reported it after she had left. Because of that, Dave had been invited to seek employment elsewhere. It seems that this had not been the first time Dave had done this at other locations and he had finally exhausted his 'second chances'. Paula was actually assigned to work where she was because she was good for the restaurant and she had no reason to worry about the fact that she would not be earning any money tips.

She still had times when she had to go back to the kitchen and she realized that she had caught the attention of one of the guys working in the kitchen. He looked nice enough, kinda cute, (where did that come from? she thought). They only exchanged looks on that first day as her shift ended before his and she headed off to the grocery and then home.

She had everything ready for spaghetti (hopefully, still her mother's favorite) when her mom rolled in. In no time, Paula had everything prepared and on the table for them. They chatted for a while and then her mother begged off to get some sleep. After clean-up, she went to bed herself, making sure that her door was locked. She slept so soundly, she was not even aware of the shift between Paula and Tom.

* * * *

Very quickly, Paula settled into a routine. Get up, go to work or shopping, come home and have dinner with her mother, and go to bed. Work became even easier as time went on. She found that she was able to circulate through the dining room as a hostess when she was not working the register, helping servers with their tables and generally schmoozing with the customers. She became well-liked by her co-workers and customers who were quickly becoming regulars.

An exception to her routine was the date she had one weekend with the cute cook. He was nice enough and she surprised herself when she wholeheartedly participated in a necking session after the movie they went to see. She managed to regain control of herself when his hands started trying to travel into her blouse and up her skirt. She was able to break-off the necking session without making him angry by pretending to notice the time and tell him that she needed to check on her mother. The wizard's warning still rang loud in her ears.

She only had a few minutes before her deadline when he dropped off at her house and she found herself allowing him to kiss her goodnight. Her mother had already gone to bed so she quickly and quietly ran to her room. She locked her door behind her just as the change began. The thoughts that she was having about her date were a little out of place for Tom as the transformation finished.

The next day, Paula began to feel ill. Again, 'old' memories came to her that she wasn't ill, she was starting her period. For the next few days, Paula dealt with the discomfort that came from having a period, as well as the messy part that had, always, nauseated her. Her only respite was the hour she became Tom and he dreaded the switch back at the end of the hour. The very real thought went through her that being a girl might not be all that desirable if she had to deal with an ordeal like this each month. It also occurred to her that somewhere, the wizard must be laughing up a storm.

She was able to continue work without too much discomfort, all of the walking actually seemed to make her feel better and she had found some painkillers in her purse that were intended for just this circumstance. She wasn't sure if this was something that Paula would have done or if the wizard had been looking ahead for her. At the moment, she really did not care. She declined a couple of invitations from Jesse, the cook, to get something to eat and he accepted her reason that she did not feel well. It was amazing how quickly guys seemed to lose interest when you shared the fact that it was a girl thing.

* * * *

Paula had just started her night shift when everything changed for her. It was still pretty early and the place was just starting to fill when Linda came in, wearing her blouse and jeans. Paula took one look at her and knew that Linda would not be working that evening. The first thing Paula did was call for Steve and then she quickly hurried over to Linda, leading her over to the guest waiting area to sit down.

"Linda! Are you okay?" The side of Linda's face was a solid red, looking like she had a sunburn. Aside from the puffy lip she was sporting, her eye showed all the signs of preparing to become a major black eye. "What the heck happened to you?"

"I…I slipped in the shower and hit my head. I'll be okay, but I came in to tell Steve that I didn't feel like I could work."

"I'll say so! Do you feel okay?" Linda nodded as Steve came up.

"Whoa. That looks nasty. I agree...you can't work looking like that. Do you feel okay to go home or do we need to send you to the emergency room?"

Linda tried to smile reassuringly and said, "I should be okay. I took something for the pain and I just need to lie down."

"Well, you didn't get hurt here, so I can't send you to the emergency room on worker's comp. But I can make sure that you can get home okay. Paula, I know that you're scheduled tonight, but would you get Linda home and keep an eye on her? I'll find someone to cover your shift and don't worry about having to punch out. Just get Linda taken care of."

She helped Linda stand up. "Okay, Steve. Thank you." To Linda she said, "Come on. I'm not parked too far out tonight."

They were headed back to Linda's apartment when Paula asked, "You didn't fall down in the shower, did you?"

"No…I guess I made Jake mad when I told him that I had to work tonight. I know that I told him before, but he was mad when he wanted me to fix him dinner and I told him that I had to get ready. He yelled and then he hit me. He left before I got back up." Even while Linda was relating how Jake had hit her, the tone of her voice made it sound more like she was relating a story that had happened to someone else and not something that should have filled her with anger or embarrassment.

Paula looked over at Linda. "Where is he now? I don't think that I should take you back there if he's going to come back and beat you up again."

Linda waved Paula's concern away. "It's okay Paula. I think that he'll be gone until tomorrow." Linda's voice had dropped into the tender, creepy level again. "He gets a little out of control once in a while, but he really didn't mean to hurt me."

"Why do you stick up for him? He obviously likes to hit you and he could have killed you. I think that I should be taking you to the emergency room after all." Paula's anger and contempt for Jake literally dripped from her voice.

"Paula, I really appreciate what you're doing for me, but I won't get Jake into trouble. Please, just take me home. Everything will be okay."

"Okay. I'll stay with you for a while and make sure that you're going to be alright. But I need to leave at some point, okay?"

"That's okay. I just need to take a couple more pills and lie down. I'll be fine." Linda sounded a little depressed at that point.

"Why don't you give me your keys and I'll make sure that Jake isn't waiting for you in there." The tone of her voice made it clear that Linda did not have a choice. Paula pulled up outside the apartment that Linda and Jake shared. She could see that it was dark, which likely meant that Jake was not around. She made a quick pass through the rooms and satisfied herself that Jake was gone. She left the lights on as she went. Once she was done, she went back to the car and helped Linda into the apartment. The way Linda was moving, it was obvious that she was in more pain than she let on.

"Where else are you hurt?" Paula asked as she helped Linda to sit down.

"I fell over the table when he hit me, so I banged up my back and shoulders. They're kind of sore, but I should be okay." Linda had apparently decided to be honest about her injuries. Paula was happy about that as it saved her the time of dragging it out of her.

"I think that a hot bath will help you more than anything. I'll go run it for you. Go in and get ready and I'll call you." She had to help Linda stand and get moving toward the bedroom. She went through to the bath and got the tub filling. As the tub filled, Paula found what looked to be some bath salts and she poured them liberally into the hot water. The scented water should go a long way toward soothing Linda's bruises. Once the tub was filled, she called Linda into the bath.

Linda had stripped in the bedroom and entered the bathroom almost strutting. It was obvious to Paula that Linda was proud of her body. The nipples on her large breasts stood out like pencil erasers, centered in areolae that seemed to cover half the breast. The Tom half of Paula's mind seemed to be in charge at the moment and Paula found that she couldn't seem to take her eyes of Linda. She drank in Linda's body, from her rather large breasts down across her flat stomach to the smoothness between her legs.

Paula could feel her own nipples hardening and her own slit becoming wetter as she stood there. She was finally able to break her trance when she saw the ugly bruises across Linda's back and sides. They were definitely not from falling over some furniture. She struggled slightly to control her voice when she said, "You get in and soak. I'll see what I can find in the kitchen." Paula helped her into the tub and beat a hasty retreat to avoid embarrassing herself. There was little in the way of a meal to be found, but she discovered cheese, crackers, and juice that would do.

When she came back, she found Linda asleep in the tub, the water lapping around her breasts. The lines on her face showed that Linda was exhausted so Paula let her sleep. To make sure that she stayed safe, Paula sat beside the tub while she ate. Occasionally, she would drain out some of the cooling water and replenish the warmth. She was unable to keep her eyes off the other girl though and she found herself in an almost constant state of arousal.

Paula was thoroughly confused about why the sight of Linda incited such lust in her. Did she have lesbian leanings as Paula or was the part of Tom that was still within her driving this? She knew that she had enjoyed her date the other night with Jesse, so she was sure that she liked guys. All she could think was that if she were to have sex with Linda, she wouldn't have to worry about getting pregnant.

After having allowed Linda to nap for a couple of hours, Paula woke her and helped her out of the draining water. The hot water had helped to relax some of the soreness out of her and Linda was moving more freely. Before she could start to stiffen again, Paula helped her pat herself dry and she indulged herself somewhat in caressing Linda's body in the process. Strictly to help Linda of course. She installed Linda on the sofa in the apartment's living room and retrieved the remainder of the meager meal she had prepared.

"I'm not sure that Jake will be back tonight. Why don't you just head home?" Linda's voice was a combination of resignation to Paula's departure and hope that Paula would stay and keep her company.

Paula looked down at Linda. The other girl appeared to be comfortable and relaxed. "Well…How do you feel?"

Linda smiled. "I feel pretty good right now. I'm willing to bet that I'm going to be sore in the morning, but I think that I can move okay for the moment." It was obvious that she was tired though. She had to be under more stress than she was letting on.

She had been watching the time, but she was reaching the point where she was more and more tempted to not worry about it and just share her secret with Linda. "I could leave you now, but would you like me to stay?"

"I'd love it if you could stay. I don't get out much other than for work." Linda's sadness and loneliness came through her faked smile.

Paula froze when she recognized the same kind of hopeless behavior that she remembered from just before her meeting with the wizard. There was definitely no way she was going to leave her friend alone and she knew that any conversation would be better than letting Linda stew in silence.

To keep Linda talking, she said, "You're acting like you're pretty much in control of yourself. Not like when we got here. How come?"

"Well…the longer I'm away from him, the less ditzy I am about him, unless I talk about him for very long and start thinking about him. Then it all comes back."

"Then don't think about him. Tell me what's going on. Where are you from?"

"I grew up here. You won't believe this, but I'm caught in a magic spell." Linda looked embarrassed that she had actually told someone that she believed in magic and that she appeared to be the equivalent of a storybook princess.

Paula tried to be noncommittal. "Uh huh…What kind of a magical spell?" Because she had already seen Linda running from the Spells 'R' Us shop, she did not necessarily disbelieve her. Besides, she had her own story that she could tell.

Linda hesitated for a moment and said, "This is a little hard to explain…A couple of months ago, I met this girl at a party and I wanted to get to know her better, if you know what I mean."

"What, you mean that you go both ways? I would assume so, because you're living with Jake!" Paula's heart beat a little faster upon hearing this, maybe being with Linda was not impossible, if not for Jake.

"It's a little more complicated than that. I'd seen her around, but she really was not interested in me, and I wanted her to like me. So I happened across this weird little store in the mall and, for a lark, I bought a magic potion that was supposed to make me more likeable to her if both drank it."

"So you were going to turn her into a bimbo slave and it happened to you instead?" Paula's voice hinted at a little bit of scorn and anger.

"No! I am, or was, a decent guy! I only wanted her to like me and the potion was supposed to work on me to make me more desirable to her!"

Paula did a double-take. "What do you mean a decent guy?"

"What happened is that she was supposed to drink her potion first and then I was supposed to drink mine. That way, I would have changed to become her fantasy lover. Instead, I didn't follow the instructions and I drank my potion first. That apparently left me at the mercy of whoever drank the other potion. Somehow, Debra didn't drink her potion and Jake ended up with it."

Linda started crying as she explained, "Apparently Jake's fantasy lover is a sexy, slut slave with big tits. I have to do everything he tells me to and I lose any willpower whenever I'm around him or even think about him too much. Then I go all gooey inside. There seems to be a little bit of a safety switch built in that kicks in when I feel too down or I'm in too much pain. Of course, that doesn't help when he has me handcuffed to the bed."

"So you mean that you used to be a guy?" Paula was obviously stuck on that particular point.

"Yes, I was. When I was able to get my head on straight, I went back to the magic store and told him what happened. Apparently, those love potions are really radical when they are not used correctly. I've been stuck like this and he's still looking for a way to help me change back. I haven't even been able to get hold of my old roommate to tell him what happened to me. Every time I call our apartment, I get a wrong number."

"Have you tried to go over there?"

"No. I have to go from here to work and back again. The only way I was able to go into that SRU store was because it was in the mall with the restaurant."

"Well, I could stop by there and tell your roommate something for you. What's your roommate's name?"

"His name is Tom Andrews."

Paula's mouth literally dropped open in surprise as she turned to look at Linda. "Are you sure? Do you know anything else about him?"

"Of course I'm sure. Tom's mother threw him out of the house after he graduated from high school because he just wouldn't do anything. Wouldn't work around the house or go out and get a job. He thinks that she hates him, but I asked her as we were moving his stuff out. She doesn't hate him at all, she's just trying to get him to develop some kind of drive and she was hoping to having support himself would do it. I was trying to help him get going on it, but then I did this to myself. I don't know if he's okay or not." Linda's frustration with her situation was quite clear.

Paula had been watching the time throughout the evening and said, "Well, it's getting late and I was going to put you to bed and head out, but I think that I need to stick around and show you something instead. Do you think that we'll be alone for a couple more hours?"

"We should be. A lot of times, Jake doesn't come home all night. Of course, we spend most of the next morning playing." Her voice started to drift into creepy-land again.

Paula grabbed Linda's arm and lightly slapped her across the face. "Stay with me here! We have just a few minutes before show time, so let's get everything out to the kitchen and get this place straightened up."

The girls made quick work of cleaning up their mess and organizing the common room. "It's almost midnight." Linda said, yawning. "What is it that you wanted to show me? I may conk out otherwise."

Paula looked at Linda and said, "Okay. My watch says we have about ninety seconds and I've calibrated it pretty closely over the last few weeks. Now, just watch this."

She stood and held her hand out before her so that Linda could see the ring as it appeared out of nowhere. Almost immediately after it had appeared, it started to glow and the glow spread over Paula's body. Paula had found that the transformation seemed to go a little faster as the weeks had gone by. Of course that could have been her imagination she thought as the tingling on her body grew stronger. Almost as soon as the glow had covered her body, it began to fade away and Tom was left standing where Paula had been a moment before.

Tom looked down at Linda and asked, "Do you know who I am?"

"Tom? What's going on?" Linda was instantly on her feet, eyes wide in shock and the pain from her bruises forgotten.

"You aren't supposed to know who I am. The wizard told me that reality had been changed so that Tom Andrews never existed and Paula Andrews did."

"I don't know what to tell you. Maybe it's because I'm affected by a spell already and it keeps me from being affected by whatever spell you're under. Do you mean to say that you've been Paula since I've been Linda?"

"Not that long. You were gone for a couple of weeks and I couldn't find you. I got pretty down at one point and I almost killed myself. I was at the mall when I saw you come out of the SRU store crying. Before I could jump off the balcony, the wizard was there and he gave me this." She waved her hand. "It lets me be Paula, except for an hour in the middle of the night."

Linda's expression was a mix of joy and shock. "You mean that we're both victims of magic spells?"

Tom nodded. "I'm not really a victim as such, but I am stuck with changing back and forth for about another week. The wizard told me that I will revert to being Tom when I return the ring to him."

"Well…We're here for the time being. I've missed you. And I've been so scared." Linda started to cry with relief and remembered fear. "The wizard hasn't been able to find any way to reverse what happened to me and I've been stuck like this."

Tom sat down next to his transformed roommate and pulled her close. "I'll help you if I can. I'll talk to the wizard to find out if I could just take you away from here. I know that you're coming with me in the morning, before Jake comes home. I think that finding out who you are explains why I found myself so attracted to you. We've been best friends almost our entire lives."

Linda looked up at him and said, "And why should the fact that we're the victims of some gender bending magic spells change that?" She wriggled around to face him and said, "At least, I'm not breaking any laws when I do this." She leaned in and kissed him.

Tom found himself responding enthusiastically and they rather quickly found themselves progressing beyond simple necking. Totally ignoring where they were and that Jake could very well walk in on them, they moved into the bedroom. Their hands roamed over their bodies as they kissed and licked each other. Clothing seems to quickly disappear they found themselves rolling around together.

Eventually, Linda ended up straddling her former roommate. She wriggled slightly threatening to drive Tom wild with the sensations that were communicated to his trapped member. As she brushed her erect nipples across his chest, his penis seems to grow even larger, if that was possible. She continued her teasing by licking at his nose and finally kissing him deeply.

"I bet that this is something that neither of us thought that we would be doing together," Linda said as she reared back to look down at him.

"No," Tom answered. "I fantasized about it as Paula though. Two months ago we were normal guys and now I'm not sure what we are. But I'm having fun. Especially now."

Linda grinned and leaned down to kiss him again. "Yeah, me too." Her hips began to rock, setting off jolts of pleasure in Tom's groin. He reached out to caress her breasts before his hands settled on her waist.

Her pace increased at the same pace as their passion. Before long Tom was thrusting up to meet Linda as she thrust toward him. Finally, neither one could hold out against the incredible sensations and Tom found himself pumping what felt like a gallon of cum into Linda.

The finale ended all too soon and the two lovers collapsed together in a pile of love and sweat. Linda lay in Tom's arms enjoying the afterglow and the feel of Tom's embrace. They both had their eyes closed when the glow of Tom's transformation engulfed them both. By the time the light even registered, it was already fading and Linda found herself clasped in Paula's arms.

"I suppose that I should get off you, shouldn't I?" Linda said, looking down at her friend.

"I suppose you should, but you don't have to hurry on my account." Paula smiled up at her former roommate. "Does this make us lesbians?"

"I'm not sure. Does it matter?" Linda sat back slightly, looking concerned.

"No really, at least not to me. I think that I would love you whether I was Tom or Paula." Paula looked deeply into Linda's eyes and then her expression changed.

Linda began to look worried that maybe her friend was having second thoughts. "What's the matter?"

Paula started to struggle to get out from under Linda. "You're leaking on me! That can't happen!" She was becoming more panicked as she tried to get up.

Linda let her up, confusion written across her face. "What's wrong!" Now she was becoming as concerned as Paula.

Paula scrambled off the bed and ran into the bath. She grabbed a towel to wash the jism from her pussy, trying to determine if any had made its way inside.

"I…I'm sorry," she said looking up at Linda. She still looked panicked. "The wizard told me that if I had sex and got pregnant, I would be stuck like this and I wouldn't be able to change back to Tom, ever."

Linda looked shocked for a moment and then giggled uncontrollably. "That would be weird wouldn't it? Making yourself pregnant?" She went to Paula and hugged her tightly. "It doesn't matter to me if you're Paula or Tom. If you're going to have a baby and stay like this, I'll still love you."

Paula relaxed into the hug and then returned it. "I think that I love you too. Fortunately, we'll know by tonight whether I'm caught or not. If I'm going to be a mother, I won't switch back to Tom at midnight."

"Okay," Linda answered. "I'm not sure what to hope for. Look…I can last a couple more days with Jake. When he beats on me like this, he's usually extra nice to me for a while. Let's see if you're going to be okay and we can work on moving me out of here tomorrow. Besides, I should be moving better tomorrow."

Paula looked at her with a grin and said, "I'd say that you were moving pretty good a little while ago."

"Yes and I'm probably go to sleep like a log as a result." Linda returned the grin with a hug.

The two girls walked back into the bedroom still holding each other. They separated as Linda flopped onto the bed and Paula began gathering her clothes. It was a rather versatile transformation spell as Tom's clothes had become Paula's while they were scattered around the room.

Once she was ready, she kissed her new lover as if she never wanted to let go and headed out for home. Linda walked her to the door and closed it behind her. Neither girl noticed the motorcycle parked off to one side. Before she turned around, Linda nearly screamed when a familiar voice said, "Linda, my dear. Do you have a new friend?" She spun around to see Jake stepping out of the kitchen.

* * * *

Paula got home in good time and took a shower, making sure to wash her slit to clean it of any of her own sperm. Her mother had long since gone to bed, which was just as well. Paula had no idea how she could possibly discuss this subject with her without a lot of thought. She couldn't very well say, 'Mom. This is Linda. We were having sex while I was a guy but I changed back to a girl and some of my sperm leaked into me and I got myself pregnant. Surprise! I'm going to have a baby!' She fell asleep thinking about the possibility of having fathered her own child.

* * * *

When she woke the next morning, Paula didn't feel well. For just a moment she was afraid that she was going to need the toilet as a vomitorium, but the feeling subsided as she began moving around. She felt better after having some toast and a cup of tea, but immediately ran to the bathroom and lost her breakfast when she realized that this fit the symptoms of morning sickness. Finally, she was able to sit down and take some deep breathes. If she was pregnant, so be it, she thought that she could be a mother with the help of Linda and her own mother. If it was just a case of nerves, that would be great. She would need to wait until midnight to find out. To get her mind off the whole subject, she threw herself into catching up on her share of the housework and began to plan out a meal for herself, her mother, and Linda. She planned on helping Linda move in here until she was able to contact the wizard and work everything out.

About noon, Linda called. "Jake is planning on going out with his friends tonight." She was whispering because Jake was sleeping in the bedroom. "If you come over about nine, we can get everything packed up and moved. Does that sound okay?"

"Yeah. That sounds good. Will he be gone until we're done?"

"He should. Once he goes out, I usually don't see him until dawn. I gotta go! I'll see you tonight. Okay? Love you."

"I love you too." Both girls hung up. Paula's stomach was doing funny things and she wasn't sure if it meant anything bad as her nipples were hard and she felt herself getting wet with anticipation. It amazed her how she could feel this way about someone so quickly. But it felt so good.

She spent the rest of the day organizing her bedroom to make room for her lover. While she worked, she thought of different ways to tell her mother that Linda needed to stay with them for a while. She was sure that there would not be problem, but it was important to make sure that her mother was okay with it. She had not seen her mother by the time she needed to leave to get Linda, so she left the conversation to be had when both girls returned.

The lights were all on in Linda's apartment when she got there. Linda opened the door quickly and invited Paula in. The exchanged a long, deep kiss before they pulled back. The kiss promised fun later in the night; Paula just told herself that they would need to be careful.

They sat down for a few minutes while they planned. Jake had left a little while before and did not expect to be back until morning. They cuddled for a while and exchanged more passionate kisses before they decided to get Linda's clothes packed.

The two girls were carrying bags to the door when it opened practically in their faces and Jake stepped in. "Hello ladies. Where do you think you're going?" He had obviously been waiting for them outside.

The girls backed up to the sofa. Paula looked back and forth for a way out, but saw that she was trapped. She also noted that Linda did not seem to be panicked at all and was more or less just standing still. Paula found herself falling back onto the sofa as it caught the back of her knees. That immediately put her at a disadvantage as Jake towered over her.

Jake leered down at Paula. "I happened to come in last night to find my girlfriend on top of some guy. I was about to come in beat him to death when I watched him turn into you, so I hid to find out what was going on. Once you were gone, Linda was kind enough to tell me anything that I wanted to know." He grinned nastily at the two girls.

Linda hung her head in shame, even though both girls knew that she had had no choice but to tell him what he asked. "I'm sorry." Tears streamed down her face uncontrollably.

"She tells me that you have a magic ring that lets you be a girl and a guy? He left the question hanging, expecting Paula to respond, but she only returned his look and said nothing.

Jake grinned nastily down at her and slapped her lightly. "You're going to tell me and give me what I want or I promise that you'll be sorry! I've got all night."

Paula held her hands up and said, "I don't have a ring, see?"

"I know. Linda told me that it appears and disappears. I want to know where you got it and how it works. Or I'll beat the shit out of you and you know that I will." He smiled in anticipation of hurting her.

Trying to save Paula from harm, Linda spoke up, "Please don't hurt her, she should change at midnight, maybe it will show up then."

"Why didn't you tell me that before?" Jake snarled at her. "Go get me the rope from the kitchen!"

Linda hurried out of the room and came back with a bundle of rope. Jake grabbed the rope from her and pushed her down onto the sofa. Grabbing Paula, he held her roughly while he tied her hands and feet in front of her. "This way, I can see your hands if you change."

Looking at Linda, he said, "Go sit over there and stay there." He gestured to the armchair to one side of the room and she obediently moved to the chair and sat quietly.

"Well…I guess that we'll just sit here and wait then. Maybe we can amuse ourselves in the meantime." He leered at Paula's chest.

"I don't think so." She looked at him stonily. As she drew in breath to scream, the back of Jake's hand struck her across the face and she choked.

"I don't think so either," Jake said. He stuffed a cloth in her mouth and tied it in place. "I'll take this off when I'm ready for you to talk. If you try that again, I'll make it so that you can hardly breathe. Understand. ?"

All Paula could do was glare at him and nod.

The three of them sat looking at each other as the time ticked by. Finally, midnight arrived as they heard the town clock announce midnight in the distance. Paula's eyes grew wide as she realized that she had to be with child. As she started to come to terms with remaining Paula and becoming a mother, the transformation glow flashed into being. The clock must have been running fast. Paula, now Tom, did not know whether to be relieved or disappointed that the spell had not been broken. Jake stood open-mouthed as the ring stopped glowing. "That is fucking incredible. I saw you switch back at about one o'clock so you must be this way for an hour, right."

Reluctantly, Tom nodded in agreement. Jake took Tom's hand in his and pulled on the ring. His face was contorted in anger when he found that the ring would not move. "What is this? It won't come off."

"Maybe he's the only one who can remove it Jake. After all, it's a magic ring," Linda spoke up, again trying to save her friend some pain.

"Is that right?" Jake said to Tom. When Tom nodded to confirm it, Jake told him, "Take it off then." He stood back from his attempt to pull the ring off.

When Tom shook his head, Jake said, "I think that you're the kind of person who would let me beat him to a pulp before giving me what I want. How about I beat on Linda instead? I already know that you were going to help her get away from me, so you care about her. All I have to do is tell her to stand there and take it, and she will." Jake's grin was even more evil than before. "Now are you going to give the ring or do I get my jollies beating on your girlfriend?"

Tom's face fell behind the gag. He looked like he was about to break down in tears, but he glared at Jake instead. He moved his hands together, pulled the ring off his hand, and held it out to Jake. Jake slapped Tom lightly on his cheeks and said with a sneer, "That's a good girl. Now, I'm going to take your car and go down and sell this to some friends. Don't go away." He looked at Linda and said, "Keep him here until I get back!"

"Yes, Jake," Linda said, her voice almost made her sound like a pet hoping to be given a treat.

Jake took the car keys from Tom's trousers and walked out the door laughing. Once he heard the car start up and drive away, Tom held his hands toward Linda asking to be released.

Linda put her head in her hands in frustration. "I can't, Tom. If he tells me to do something, I have to do it. I guess that it's part of the spell." Tom struggled with his ropes, trying to get them loose. He was becoming frantic because he had less than an hour to get the ring from Jake and back on his hand or he would be stuck.

He had been wriggling around for most of the hour when Linda left the room and then came towards him with a knife. He tried to move away from her to keep her from hurting him, but the ropes kept him from moving very well.

"It's all right," Linda said, reassuringly. "I'm going to get you loose. Stay still so that I don't cut you." She sawed at the ropes on his arms.

Once Tom's hands were free, he pulled the gag away from his mouth and said, "What's going on?"

"I don't know. I suddenly didn't feel like I wanted to keep you tied up anymore," she said as she sawed at the ropes on his legs.

Tom stood and said, "Get some clothes. We need to get out of here before Jake comes back." No sooner had he given her directions, than they heard a car door slam. Tom swung around to look at the door and then he looked quickly for some kind of weapon to defend himself. "Dammit! He's here!"

Jake was either a baseball fan or used the bats for something else as Tom saw several of them in the corner of the room. He grabbed one and prepared to defend himself as the door slammed open and a petite blond girl ran in. Tom had been preparing for the fight of his life against Jake, until he saw that the girl was smaller than he was. Tom did not see anyone behind her as she hurried into the apartment and slammed the door behind her.

He realized that she only appeared to be smaller than she really was because of her massive breasts. They were full and round and it appeared that they were causing her problems to be able to stand straight. His attention was drawn to her face and saw that she had a round face with beautiful blue eyes, full lips, and a small nose. Framing the doll face was a thick, full mane of hair that fell almost to bottom of her mini-dress. Completing the picture were tanned, slender legs that ended in 4-inch heels. All in all, she appeared to be straight from the pages of a pinup magazine. . He let his guard down slightly, but he was prepared to do anything he needed to if it turned out that the girl was armed.

"Who are you?" Linda asked.

The girl looked at Linda and said, "I'm Jake! You have to help me! Julian was getting ready to chase me when I drove off!"

Linda pulled the girl over one of the armchairs and pushed her down. Tom stood over her and said, "Linda, get the phone and I'll watch her. If we have to, we'll call for help and try to keep anyone out until they get here." He kept an eye on the girl while Linda made sure that the door and windows were all locked. He knew that they would not keep a determined person out of the apartment, but they might slow them down if it came to that.

Tom kept an eye on the girl and listened for any activity outside. After a while, he relaxed. He looked at the girl who claimed to be Jake and asked, "Do they know where you live?"

"I don't think so. I always make sure that the people I do business with don't know where to find me. If they do, I just move."

"Then, unless they followed you, we're probably safe. What happened to you?"

"I went to see Julian to sell him the ring." She held up her hand, the left one of course, to display the ring. Tom noted that it had not faded from sight. "He didn't believe what I told him about it changing people back and forth and he wanted me to prove it. So I put it on to show him. I knew that he was far enough away that I could take it off again before he got to me. But I couldn't get it off again. I was able to kick him in the balls after he grabbed me and I got back here. Now get this ring off me!"

Tom could see that as the former Jake continued to talk, her movements became more fluid and sensual. In fact, by the time she was done talking, she was looking at him almost hungrily. Tom suspected that the ring had worked on Jake in a somewhat similar fashion as it had on him and that meant that Jake had probably become his own sexual fantasy girl. Tom could see that he might very well be fighting off a sex-crazed girl in a few moments.

Tom looked over at Linda who had been watching the exchange and noting the same thing. "Linda, would you help me tie Jake up? If I take the ring off her hand and he changes back, he'll probably try to attack me again."

"You don't have to tie me up, I'll be good," Jake said, "Unless…you know." She practically cooed as she looked at Tom.

"That's what I'm afraid of. That ring is cursed and I think that if we don't get her tied up, one of us is going to end up flat on our backs." This last was said to Linda. "I think that it's obvious that the curse turned Jake into a walking wet-dream from his imagination, kind of like what happened to you. I'll be very surprised if we can get the ring off her hand."

It turned out that Tom was correct. The ring remained attached to Jake's, now Jackie's, hand as if it had grown there. In addition, Jackie was a very turned on girl and she made it clear that she would happily do whatever Tom wanted her to do. Her arousal seemed to get stronger as time went on.

"I don't know what to do," Tom said. It was now morning and he and Linda were sitting in living room discussing their next steps. They had put Jackie in the bedroom and taken the most expeditious solution of using the handcuffs that Jake kept next to the bed and gagging her. She was totally co-operative as Tom had promised that he would come back in to her shortly.

"I can't switch back to Paula without the ring and it's been too long so the ring wouldn't work for me now anyway. We can't get back into the wizard's store for almost a week and I have no identity at all. All we can do is stay here and wait it out."

"We won't have to worry about food right away," Linda said. "Jake made me stock up yesterday and I know where he has cash. But I guess that we'll have to quit the restaurant. You can't go back at all and I only went there because Jake told me to get a job."

They had found that once Jake had become Jackie, the compulsion to be Jake's slave had faded away. Linda was finally in control of herself. Jackie was a different problem however. She had become a total slut and wanted nothing more than to have sex with a guy. It did not matter who, which was why Tom and Linda had tied her up. Left her own devices, Jackie would be long-gone with whoever she could find to have sex. It had been decided that Jackie would remain bound in the bedroom except for when she used the bathroom.

Also, they found that the ring's spell continued to work on Jackie the same way it had on Paula. For an hour every night, Jackie became Jake and he was just as nasty as Jackie was horny. Even though Jake was cuffed to the bed, Tom made sure to stand guard over a gagged Jake for that hour each night to keep him from getting away.
And so it went. For the next week, Tom and Linda stayed in the apartment and kept an eye on Jackie. The one time that they needed food, it was decided that Linda would go to the store so that Tom could keep control of Jackie. Neither one was concerned that Tom would give in to Jackie's pleading as Tom still thought more like Paula. Tom felt himself missing the time that he spent as Paula as she had been so confident and comfortable with herself, more than Tom had ever been.

To pass the time, they caught up on their mutual adventures over the past couple of months or watched television. Both of them came to hate daytime television. Knowing that there was no danger with having sex, the two lovers enjoyed each other's company as if they were newlyweds. While they knew that Jackie could hear them from the living room, neither was tempted to allow her to join them.

* * * *

Finally, the day arrived to return to the Spells R Us store. Tom stood by while Linda helped Jackie get cleaned up. They had allowed Jackie to eat and use the bathroom over the days that they had to wait, but they had kept a close eye on her. Jackie's sex drive had seemed to continue to climb as the days went by and they had allowed her to satisfy her desires while she was locked in the bedroom. They tried to ignore Jackie's screams of ecstasy and hoped that the neighbors wouldn't complain too much before they left. Neither of them planned on returning to the apartment and Linda packed what clothes she owned before they left for the mall.

They still had Paula's car and they drove the short distance to the mall. Linda sat in the back with Jackie to keep her from getting out of control, using the handcuffs and hiding them with a jacket. Once they reached the store, they hoped that the wizard could reverse the ring's effect upon her so that she would be able to control herself.

They entered the mall as close to the food court as they could, hoping that the store would be where they remembered it. Fortunately, the store was in the same location as it had been the first time Tom had seen it. Seeing only a few people around, they walked quickly to the store and went in. The tinkley bell sounded overhead as they came in. Tom did not bother to look to see if the bell was actually there, it wasn't all that important anyway. The wizard was standing behind the counter smiling at them.

"Well, I see some things have changed over the past month."

"Yes sir," Tom said. "I'm afraid that I ran into a little bit of trouble last week, and I was not able to finish out the month as Paula. But I did bring the ring back to you." He gestured to Jackie. "We felt it necessary to restrain her as the ring was making her a little crazy."

"Well, let's take care of her first and then we'll talk." He waved his hand at Jackie and she stood a little straighter. He lifted her hand, which was suddenly freed of the cuffs, and removed the ring from her finger. "There…That should help a little. Jackie, would you please take a seat over there? We will finish up in a few minutes." He pointed to one of the chairs that had appeared to one side of the store. Jackie quietly walked over to a chair and took a seat. She folded her hands primly in her lap and sat quietly.

"Okay, now for you Tom. It's obvious that you were not able to finish out the month as Paula, but I think that you had long enough to learn something. Did you learn anything?"

"Yes, I did. I found that Paula was a kind and considerate person. She was not afraid to work and when she saw something that had to be done, she did it. When I compare the person that she was with what I am, I have a lot to learn. I wish that I still had the ring, because I really liked being Paula." Tom's eyes filled with tears when he thought about what he had just lost.

"I know. I'm sorry, but the ring won't work for you again. It's one of those rules of magic. I can use it again for other guy, but the bond between you and the ring has been broken. All that I can do is restore reality so that Tom is real again."

"What about me?" Linda said. "Have you been able to find anything to help me?"

"I'm afraid that I have not been able to find another potion that will counteract the one that you swallowed. The good news that the bimbo part of the spell was broken when Jake became Jackie. You would be safe even if I restored Jackie back to being Jake again."

Linda slumped into one of the chairs at the table and began to cry softly upon hearing that she was sentenced to remain as she was. Tom put his arm around her shoulder. "Hey, we're best friends. You know that I'll help you." Linda leaned into Tom, sobbing.

"So you I assume that the two of you will be staying together?"

"Yes, if she'll have me. It never occurred to me that this would happen, so I never even thought to ask." Tom knelt beside Linda and looked into her eyes. "Linda, I love you. If we're destined to stay like this, would you marry me?"

Linda blinked away tears and smiled. "You're right. We're best friends and we have been for years. I love you too and I'd be glad to marry you."

The wizard looked on and smiled. "I believe that this is the first time I have had a couple get engaged in my store and I've been in business for a long time. If you are interested, I have something that will be useful for just this occasion." He went over to the sales counter and took out a package. Tom and Linda stepped to the counter to see what the wizard had to offer. Before them, the wizard had placed two ring boxes. Opening them, they found a full set of wedding bands, set with diamonds and sapphires.

"They're beautiful. How much are they?" They both wanted the set, but the cost was definitely a concern.

"Well…I'm going to need your help with Jackie here. Why don't call it even?"

Tom looked at Linda and nodded. "We would be glad to help, if we can."

The wizard looked at Tom and then Linda and held their gaze. "I want you both to understand me. These rings are enchanted. If you put them on as husband and wife, you will be bound to each other by the spell for the rest of your lives."

The newly engaged couple looked at the rings for a moment and then at each other. Tom looked up at the wizard for a moment, his eyes narrowed and then he smiled. He picked up one of the rings, looked at Linda and said, "I know that we still have to do this in front of somebody official, but 'With this ring I thee wed'" and he slid the man's wedding ring on to Linda's finger. As he had expected, Linda was quickly covered with a glow from the ring and suddenly Jason was standing before them again.

"What just happened?"

"The engagement ring I used to become Paula was designed to make me switch back and forth. I figured that these rings might be enchanted in the same way, so I took a chance."

The wizard smiled broadly and nodded. "Very good. These kinds of choices need to be made wisely and I felt that just giving you all of the answers was not necessarily in your best interests. Jason, I'm afraid that you need to finish the spell to make it permanent for you both."

Jason smiled just as broadly as he picked up the ladies engagement and wedding ring set. He took Tom's hand, looked into Tom's eyes as he slid the rings onto his finger and said, "With this ring, I thee wed." As they expected, Tom was enveloped in the transformation glow and was quickly replaced by Paula.

Paula sighed with relief, girl on girl sex was fun, he wasn't sure he could have consummated the marriage guy on guy..

The wizard clapped and said, "Welcome back Paula. This is the way reality should have been in the first place. Sometimes things take a direction they are not intended to and you have helped me to put things back on to the right track, for the most part that is."

"What do you mean?" Paula was enjoying having Jason's arm wrapped around her.

"Well, we need to do something about Jackie here. As Jake, he was pretty much a slimeball and I know that he was involved in several assaults and thefts. If I restore Jackie back to Jake, he would go back to that life. If I leave him as Jackie, all she would be fit for would be to work in a brothel, even if I removed the bimbo compulsion.

"Are the two of you willing to help me deal with this? I can promise that it would be worthwhile."

Jason spoke before Paula could. "Well sir. We both know what you can do and I know that I would rather say yes to you than refuse. I hope you understand." Paula nodded in agreement.

The wizard nodded, smiled and held his hands up in a placating gesture. "Don't worry, I understand how you feel. It can be an ego boost to have people afraid of you, but it also puts distance between people. Everything will be fine."

"All righty then." The wizard rubbed his hands together and turned to Jackie. "The only way that Jackie can have any kind of life is to start over." He waved his hand before her and she faded away. In her place, a basinet appeared on the chair holding the baby that Jackie had become.

The wizard smiled reassuringly as he said, "Jason, Paula…I would like you to meet your adopted daughter Jacqueline Renee. Now…you two have nothing to worry about. You will both know what you need to do for her and you will find that all of the paperwork is taken care of. But you will need to keep an eye on her as she grows up though. Her life as Jake might come through to her in dreams, but if you help her, those memories will fade away and she won't grow up to be anything like the person Jake was.

"I have arranged for you to have an apartment over by the campus and I believe that everything a young couple needs to raise a baby is there. And the income from your work-study jobs should be enough for you to live."

"What do you mean work-study?" Paula asked.

"You were already planning on going into nursing, so you will find that you started classes last semester." Then with a mischievous smile said, "You are specializing in prenatal care - something that I suspect will come in handy later in your life. Jason, I believe that you wanted to a med tech career and you are well on your way also."

Paula hugged the wizard tightly and kissed his cheek. "Thank you for turning us around. We were pretty much a lost cause."

"Like I told you, I help people who I think truly need my help and I deal with those that I think need to be dealt with. I'm glad that you both demonstrated that you were worth my time. Just be sure that you give Jackie the guidance that she needs and you and that she will not need to meet me again."

The new couple gathered up their new daughter and headed out of the store.

Once they were gone, the wizard leaned back against the counter in satisfaction. "That went well. We turned two slackers into a happy couple with a bright future and removed a sociopath from society.

"Let's go see what trouble we can get into next."

The wolf settled himself in front of the counter and actually laughed.

A man is feminized by his wife and his business partner and framed for embezzlement. Can he survive the humiliations his wife intends to subject him to and start a new life?

Thanks go out to Marina Kelly for her editorial assistance in improving the quality of this story.

Chapter 1

Geri let out a quiet scream as she came yet again. Evan always seemed to know just how to push her buttons when she was on top. She reflected that he had better enjoy the bottom because that was where he was going to be from now, but he didn't need to know that. She rested her forehead on his chin, basking in the afterglow. Once she felt like she had some strength back, she tented her hands on his chest and lifted up to look Evan in the eyes. Her erect nipples brushed through the hair on his chest, sending delightful jolts and shocks through her breasts and exciting her even more.

"It sounded like you enjoyed that," she said, grinning down at him and playing up to his ego. "Almost as much as I did."

"Oh yeah," Evan's voice was hoarse; he had apparently been making noise of his own. "Between having a beautiful woman like you in bed with me and knowing that we're going to be filthy rich, I can't think of a better aphrodisiac. It's always good with you though." Evan hugged Geri to him and sighed.

She waited until he softened and slid out of her, his little head retreating like a snail returning to its shell. "I think that Big Bertha is down for the count," she said, as she patted him on the chest.

Evan winced and said, "I wish that you wouldn't name my body parts with girl's names."

"Why not?" Geri said, looking innocent from her perch. "She may be attached to you, but she belongs to me. And don't you forget it. If I want to give my cock names or draw little smiley faces on the head, you will let me. Remember, we're married and another woman hadn't better ever get her hands it. Oh, and if I decide to put a smiley face on Bertha, it better be there when I see her again."

She delivered this last statement with a gravity and tone that let him know that she actually meant it. He might wear the pants in the marriage, but she was the brains of their enterprise and he had better remember it. If he didn't, she had no problems finding a different partner. It might even be a woman next time. Men were necessary, but not required in her life.

None of these thoughts reached her face or her eyes. To Evan, it appeared as if Geri was engaging in a little post-sex teasing. That is all it would be as long as he didn't cross her. Trying to break the heavy mood before there was any conflict, she rolled off from him and said, "Come on. I've got to get cleaned up. Anders' guys are coming to pick me up." She rolled off of him and padded into the bathroom.

Evan walked into the bathroom as she came of the shower. He stopped to admire his wife as he was peeling the used condom off his now flaccid penis. The two lovers could have been mistaken for cousins or even siblings due to their similar builds and heights. Evan had always thought that she was a good match for him. Evan was about two inches taller than his wife, but where he was fair skinned and blonde, Geri was a little darker, undoubtedly from her Mediterranean heritage. They both fit the definition of non-descript, which was a good skill for a con men and a thieves. But, where Evan's face was an ordinary oval face that did not stand out in people's memories, Geri's appearance was somewhat exotic.

Geri was a beautiful woman, which she had used to her advantage in more than one con. She was just over the average height for a woman so that she could still project a fragile image to her more macho marks that saw her as someone who needed protection. In her later twenties, she was still in excellent physical shape, with tight slender legs and flat belly. Evan had always been a tit man and he loved how Geri's breasts were tight and firm, with no evidence of sagging. Crowning this masterpiece was a pretty oval face with an almost porcelain-like complexion, framed by reddish-brown hair that fell to just below her shoulders. At rest, her face looked almost angelic.

They both had the ability to put people off-guard and to gain their trust. Again, excellent skills for criminals. The two of them were both about the same age and had every right to expect that they would be scamming people out of their millions for the next thirty or forty years.

He dropped the condom in the trash with some distaste as he said, "You know, if you're on the pill, these are overkill."

"I know, but it's better safe than sorry. The pill doesn't work all of the time and it also means that I don't have to worry about anything being out of the ordinary when I go home. There will be time for thinking about kids after we have Rob's money. Between what we get from him and from the business, we're looking at close to a billion. We don't want me getting pregnant to ruin that do we?" Her tone of voice sounded like a parent gently scolding a child and pregnancy was something she never intended to deal with.

"Of course not," Evan answered. "They're a pain though. Keep in mind that we're only getting half of that money. Anders and his boys get the rest."

"True. But at least he's footing the bill to set Rob up." She smiled at the plan that she had laid out to Evan and to Anders' gang.

Evan laughed. "After all the money Rob's won betting on football teams, Anders was only too willing to get his money back. And then some."

Her thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of the phone. Evan put on a robe and went to answer it. He came back a few minutes later.

"That was Anders. He's sending one of his cops along with Ed and Frank to pick you up. He figures that the presence of a state police deputy will make the story move believable. They'll be here in about fifteen minutes."

Geri nodded. "Okay. I'm about ready, so you better get cleaned up. We'll be calling you later."

Evan smiled. "This will probably be the hardest part of the whole thing. Rob's sharp, even with the hormones and drugs that you've been feeding him. If we can get the start of this past him, we'll be okay."

"Don't worry. Doctor Winters' wife has been Anders guest for quite a while now and he's providing us with those special drugs and conditioning programs. I've been working on Rob for the past three months and I can lead him around by the nose. At this point, I can get him to do pretty much anything I want.

"The hormones we got from the doctor have Rob him right at the threshold of what we want to happen. We give him a healthy dose of additional hormones and his body will change like one of those Transformer toys. I've noticed that he's prone to be a little more emotional that he used to be and his hair growth has changed. It's fun to get him to watch a chick flick and see him trying not to cry.

"I suggested to Anders that he show the doctor some pictures of his grand-daughter walking home from school and that she could always join her grandmother. I figure that Winters will co-operate in using some of those special procedures he developed for the government to change Rob even further. The best part is that Winters won't be able to go to the police or the government because he would implicate himself just as much as he would us."

She finished smoothing her pantyhose before she put on her blouse and skirt. She now projected the image of a chaste, well behaved housewife. She resembled nothing like the woman who had arrived three hours ago who could not wait to get out of her clothes and into bed with her husband.

"How much more time do you need on the company's books?"

"I'm ready to start setting up all of the transfer transactions. It should only take me a few weeks to set everything up so that we can transfer everything out all at once. Rob's trust fund becomes the end of the quarter, so we have to wait until you have Rob prepared to take the fall and I can transfer his money along with everything else."

Geri grinned, contemplating the changes she was going to put her second husband through.

"So you still don't see any problems?" she asked.

Evan shrugged. "I just have to work carefully to get around some of the security in the system. Once I get to the passwords on each account, I can create the wire transfer transactions. I just can't have Rob around to get in the way. He might figure things out. There's his executive secretary too. If Rob's out of the way, I can sidetrack her. Otherwise, she might question what I'm doing. But, if I'm in charge, I can claim that I'm just looking things over.

He grinned, "With Rob out of the office, I'll be able to steal the keys to the kingdom."

"When we're done with him, he'll be hard-pressed to even think for himself," Geri grinned at the thought. It was not a pleasant grin. "He won't know what hit him when they arrest him."

Evan came out of the bedroom, pulling up his trousers. "I'm glad that you don't hate me like you hate your other husband." He grinned at his joke. For a con this big, Geri had no qualms becoming a bigamist.

Geri sneered, causing the angelic expression on her face to become something hideous. "He's a pussy. He was a virgin when we had sex for the first time and he wanted to marry me right after. I can't wait to turn him into 'my' wife with big tits and cock sucking lips. He'll have so much fun in prison!"

Evan shook his head and said, "It's too bad about that prenup that his lawyers insisted that you sign. Otherwise, you wouldn't have to go through this."

"True. But until this is over, I'll play the loving wife and I'll do anything I have to do to get him to go along with me. Then I'll drop him like a bad habit. But not before I have some fun."

They were interrupted by the doorbell and the arrival of the men they were expecting.

* * * * *

By the time Robert was finished with the new prospectus that he wanted to submit, it was well after quitting time. He didn't like having to work late, but it was starting to become a standard for him. He hoped that once the audit was done, he could go back to a regular work day. Except for these kinds of situations that called for a prospectus to be finely tuned for a client that meant a great deal of money to the company.

These days, if you weren't bringing new clients to the investment funds, it meant that the company was dying. He had heard the Peters Corporation was considering a change in investment managers and he wanted to make sure that his firm was the one they chose. He thought that he had a pretty good shot at it; after all, he had a very good reputation for helping peoples' money grow. He'd even gone through the closer scrutiny caused by the Madoff scandal and gotten an excellent rating. But the Madoff scandal was why the audit was coming up.

As he was locking up his filing cabinet and desk, there was a knock at the door. Not surprisingly, it was Sally, his executive assistant. She knew the business as well as he did and had been there working for his father until the accident that had killed him and Rob's mother. Because Rob worked late, she worked late, whether he had tasks for her or not. He had been tempted to ask if she had a life outside of work, but thought that was probably a topic that was out-of-bounds between an employer and employee.

Sally stepped into the office, not bothering to close the door as everyone else had gone home an hour ago. As she crossed the room, the heels she wore made it seem as if she were looming over Rob. She slipped her shoes off, knowing that her boss was somewhat self-conscious about his height, and she ended up being eye-to-eye with him again. She was an attractive woman with a medium build and fairly athletic figure. Add in her shoulder-length black hair and the creamy complexion and Rob could not understand why she was still single. There had been several times when couriers had found excuses to hang around her desk after they had made a delivery or were about to leave to make one. Rob had seen her looking embarrassed a couple of times when he had come upon those situations. He had found it necessary to make his presence known in those situations because they were just not taking Sally's 'NO' for what it meant.

"Still working on the Peters' proposal," she said with a smile.

"Yes. I made some notes for some changes I would like to have worked in,' Rob said.

"Did you type them up or mark up the printed copy?" Sally asked with a wry grin. "You know that your handwriting is awful. Based upon your penmanship alone, you should have been a doctor."

Rob hung his head in mock embarrassment. "I know. I made sure to mark up the document where I think the changes will work, but I typed up the notes as well. That way, you'll know where I want the changes inserted and you will know what I said too."

"That will work. Thank you," Sally said with a nod. "But, if we just sent you back to third grade, we could fix your handwriting and you wouldn't need to do double work."

"I know…I know. But we don't go through this too often. Now, if I were writing a lot, then we could have my third grade teach come here. As long as she doesn't bring her ruler to rap me on the knuckles with." Rob grinned, teasing Sally. "I’d have to remember to bring an apple for her every day too."

Sally grinned at the thought. "Could I talk to you about the new dress code that you and Evan came up with?" she asked. Sally was not shy about coming to Rob about problems in the company, so asking to speak to him meant that that Sally had an issue with him. Rob and Sally usually had no problems with communication and had talked about many personal problems over the years. They had even discussed Rob's prenup and marriage to Geri. Something that Sally had expressed misgivings about and she had wished many times since that she had been more vocal in that particular exchange.

Rob smiled in relief. "I thought that it was something important. What seems to be the problem?"

"I think that this is important, Rob. I'm speaking for the rest of the women in the company and I have to tell you that there some unhappy ladies out there." Sally's tone bordered on angry when it became apparent that Rob was some kind of male chauvinist. "The women in the company are expected to only wear dresses. In addition to that, they are not supposed to be too baggy or too tight. I think that what is really getting to the girls is the part about wearing heels to work."

Rob took a step back at the intensity of Sally's statement. He rubbed at the scar on the bridge of his nose where the break healed. When he was nervous, he always seemed to want to cover where his nose had become slightly crooked. Both Sally and Geri had assured him that the crookedness was not really noticeable. Sally's sudden flash of irritation was enough to trigger that nervousness these days. He wished that he had never tried fooling around with that skateboard last year.

"I…I hate to point fingers, but Evan wanted that put in claiming it presented a more professional atmosphere. I didn't see any problem with it, so I didn't disagree while we were writing it. I get the impression you are recommending we remove that requirement."

Sally smiled slightly and it was not fully a happy smile. "If you don't want a full-scale rebellion on your hands, I think that would be a good idea." She was nodding seriously. She saw that Rob was stroking his nose and reached out to pull his hand away from his face.

"Rob, I'm sorry," she said gently. "I didn't mean to upset you, please relax." Then she smiled impishly, "I'll make you a deal. You wear heels for a full work day! After that if, you still think it isn't a big deal, I'll drop the issue."

Rob pulled his arm down to his side and smiled.

"If you feel that strongly about the issue, why don't we just take that part out? Go ahead and rewrite the policy and I'll sign it when you're done. I didn't realize that it would a problem. Please apologize to the ladies for me and I'll send out an email to everyone."

He thought about the time he spent in heels at home and never considered them to be uncomfortable — of course he never spent eight or nine hours straight in them either. Once they had worked out Sally's complaint, they exchanged pleasantries for a few more moments and they both headed for home.

* * * * *

Robert waited for the garage to finish opening before pulling into his side of the garage. He paid close attention to the front end as he did not want a repeat of bumping the trash barrels like last week. No one had seen it and it did no damage to the car, but it was embarrassing all the same. The past couple of months were starting to get to him and he looked forward to being able to relax once the government auditors had come and gone. With all of the press around the collapse of the banks and big investment firms, it was only natural that they would start looking at the little guys eventually. They'd be around sometime in October, to review the accounting for the funds that rolled over at that point.

He'd been feeling so run-down that his executive assistant, Sally, had mentioned on more than one occasion that she was concerned about his health and appearance. She had convinced him to make an appointment with the physician that his family had been seeing for years, but Geri had been involved in a car accident that particular day and he had been unable to reschedule. He'd been so busy lately, he had not even had time to get a haircut and it was starting to become really long.

He thought that keeping his hair in a guy's pony tail down his back looked sort of cool. Fortunately, his clients knew him and what he could do for their money. Who cared if their investment banker looked like a surfer dude or a metrosexual hipster needing to see a hairstylist? The other reason the company was so successful was that everyone knew that he kept his word, even when the situation changed against him. Individuals of integrity were still highly respected in the business world.

The fact that he was just barely average in height and slightly built had been a little bit of a sore point for him growing up. The only girls who had been interested in him at college had been the ones who could only see his parents' millions. They'd dropped him or drifted away when they found out that those millions were in a trust that he could not touch until he turned twenty-seven.

That is, until he had met Geri. She loved him and couldn't care about money that he would get sometime in the future, which was coming up in the fall. Even then, she would not be able to touch the money as it would be locked up in the company's accounts until he could transfer it out and the prenup would prevent her from getting it in a divorce.

The pressure of preparing all of the company's financial records for the annual government audit kept him and Evan working late quite a lot lately. Fortunately for him, he was the partner that dealt more with 'sales' and getting additional customers in the door, so most of the business management side of things was left to Evan. Much of what he needed to do was to review the spreadsheets and the summaries before signing off on them. He was able to get away from the office at about six or six-thirty most evenings while Evan would work much later. Of course, Rob made up for it by being in the office early most mornings.

Closing up the garage, Rob looked across to Geri's empty parking spot. She was apparently out late again, probably with one of the planning groups for the charities that they supported. He headed on up into the house to find himself something to eat. Rob knew that Geri would grab something to eat before she came home, so he finished up the leftover chicken from a couple of nights ago. He reflected on how intensely Geri had thrown herself into volunteering to assist with the charities after her accident. The accident had not been that severe, but it had obviously scared her into wanting to do more for others. He thought that was good, because Geri had developed a rather callous, almost bitchy, attitude up to that point; which was nothing like the girl he thought he had married a little over a year ago.

He cleaned up his mess when he finished eating and reviewed the mail. Of course, all bills were sent to the accountant for processing, so the post mainly consisted of circulars and Geri's woman magazines — which for some unknown reason Rob had come to enjoy browsing through lately. He settled in his chair with a glass of juice. He would have loved to have a glass of wine, he found that even one glass made him dizzy these days. On reflection, he decided that he would have to have Sally make that physician's appointment tomorrow. There could very well be something wrong if a single glass of wine could put him down.

* * * * *

The normal time for Geri to arrive home had long passed and Rob was becoming concerned. His calls to her cell phone had rolled over to her voicemail unanswered. While she had been this late before, she had always answered her phone or called to let him know that a meeting had run over or that she was on her way. He could not turn in for the night until he knew that she was okay. Almost at the same time that he had arrived at the decision to call the police to check on a possible accident, the doorbell sounded.

The security camera showed Geri standing at the door with three men positioned behind her. The men had positioned themselves far enough back from the door so that the camera could see them properly. They made no attempt to conceal their faces; rather they looked directly into the camera and held their badges up so that the camera could see them clearly as well. One was a state trooper and the other two were dressed in dark suits, black shoes, and black coats. It almost appeared as if they had pulled their clothes from the same rack at the store. All three of them stayed well back from the door and from Geri to show that they were not a threat.

Rob opened the door and Geri ran to him, sobbing, to give him a hug and hid her face in his chest for a moment. She pulled back and looked into his eyes. "Rob, we're in trouble." The expression on her face showed that she was scared.

He looked past her to the men on porch. "What seems to be the problem gentlemen?" Rob could not think of any reason why a police officer and two detectives would visit him late at night or have any reason to accost his wife.

The police officer spoke for the trio. "Mr. Tanner, may we come in? These are federal marshals and they need to talk with you and your wife." Rob nodded and stepped back to allow them to enter. Looking past the men as they moved into the house, Rob could see a dark-colored SUV parked at the end of the driveway and a police squad car parked on the curb.

Everyone studied each other for a moment before the taller marshal moved forward slightly and said, "Mr. Tanner, I'm agent Tyler and this is agent Johnson. We represent the U.S. Marshal Service." They both held their shields up for inspection again.

Rob just glanced over the badges as he had seen government badges many times as part of being in the investment business. "Shall we go in and sit down?" They all moved into the living room and took seats.

The two marshals almost looked like they could be related. Agent Tyler was fairly tall and strongly built, while Johnson was a few inches shorter and much broader across the shoulders. It almost made one think of a visual aide for a demo of Brains and Braun. Both were clean shaven and looked as if they were prepared to deal with anything and accept no disagreements.

Rob's confusion about the situation was obvious and he looked at Tyler, and said, "What's going on?"

Agent Johnson spoke up instead. "Mr. Tanner, your wife was a witness to an incident today that could very well put her life in danger, as well as yours. At the direction of our superiors, we have been instructed to offer you temporary protection in the witness protection system to keep you safe while the crime is investigated and prosecuted."

"What happened?" Rob looked at both Tyler and Johnson. A chill of fright and concern went through him as he pulled Geri to him. "Are you okay? You weren't hurt were you?"

"There was a drug exchange taking place as your wife was walking by. Apparently, the deal went sour and one of the perps killed the other. Unfortunately, your wife was seen by the killer and he also targeted her. The only reason she was not killed was that she just moments from leaving the scene in a taxi. She reported what she saw to the police and we became involved."

Rob frowned. "Witness protection is a little extreme for witnessing a shooting isn't?"

Johnson nodded and said, "Yes sir, it is. Right now, we propose to only put the two of you into protective custody. However, we believe that this is related to the Mexican cartel that has been gaining strength in the city recently. We believe that your wife's testimony will help us to prosecute one of their main enforcers and give us a chance of driving them out. The danger to you and your wife is that these people are perfectly willing to kill anyone that causes them trouble. Your lives could very well be in danger."

Geri was still huddled against Rob's side. She shuddered while Johnson was relating the story. When Johnson finished, she looked up at Rob with tears in her eyes and said, "I was so scared! I saw him pointing the gun at me from across the street and I heard him shoot! I don't know if he hit the taxi or not! I can still see the other man lying on the ground behind him!"

Rob hugged Geri to him and said, "It'll be okay Geri. I'm here." He held her out in front of him and looked into her eyes. "I promise you. Whatever it takes to keep you safe, I'll make sure that it happens."

He felt an overpowering desire to protect her and he wanted to do cry when he thought that she could be hurt, simply because she had seen something by accident.

She looked up at him again and said, "Rob…They want us to go into hiding for a while so that they can keep me safe and while they can catch him. Please Rob! I'm so scared." She hugged herself to him and shivered. Rob was unable to see her self-satisfied smile, knowing that she had maneuvered him into agreeing to the start of her plan.

Rob straightened and tried to look tough when he look at the government men and asked, "What do we need to do?"

Chapter 2

Tyler looked around and then back to the Tanners, bowed slightly, and said, "I think that for your comfort, we could just keep you here, in your own home, until we know what the situation is. If it's possible, agent Johnson and I could set up in an extra room and watch over you here."

Rob thought for a moment and said, "Well, there is a room upstairs that we're just using for storage. It's pretty crowded though."

Tyler and Johnson exchanged looks and nodded. "Let's take a look at it. If we can make it work, that would be better. Otherwise, we would need to think about moving you to a safe house. This house looks like it would be okay though, at least in the short run."

Rob looked at Geri and said, "I hope that it's just the short run." She smiled back through her crocodile tears.

Satisfied that the federal agents had everything in hand, the trooper returned to his car and left. The agents assured him that they would call for help if they suspected a problem. Rob led the agents up the stairs at the back of the house to the large space on the second floor. Geri made a circuit on the main floor to ensure that everything was secure.

Upstairs, they found that while the area was cluttered, they were able to clear about half of the space by stacking everything. This left a good-sized area for the agents to be able to setup. Tyler seemed to be the senior agent and said, "We'll have beds brought in for the time that we'll be here and we'll have to work out living arrangements with you and your wife."

"That makes sense," said Rob. "That way, we can stay here and I can deal with work and you'll be able to make sure that nothing happens to Geri."

Tyler held up his hand to get Rob's attention and said, "I'm sorry, Mr. Tanner. We need to set it up so that you are in hiding. If it looks like you are still going about your business, the cartel will know that you and your wife are here. That will put your lives in serious danger."

Rob frowned. "But I need to handle things for my business! We're preparing for a major audit and I need to be there." Rob's alarm and concern for the company almost made him forget about the danger to Geri and himself. "May be we could send Geri into hiding and I could manage things from home. I would only need to be in the office once or twice a week." His voice hadn't quite taken on a pleading tone, but it was close.

Tyler shook his head slowly and repeated, "I'm sorry sir," said Tyler. "If the cartel thought that they could get to your wife by using you, you would be in as much danger as she is. We need to keep you out of the public view to be able to keep you both safe."

"If I'm not there, my company could be in trouble. If we can't figure something out, I can't go into hiding with my wife. There would be nothing to come back to." Rob's voice took on a note of finality. It sounded like he was finally digging in his heels.

Rob was looking at Tyler while he was talking and did not see Johnson behind him. Johnson's face darkened as he started move toward Rob, as if he was preparing to get physical with him. A cautioning look to him from Tyler caused him to relax and step back while Tyler told Rob reassuringly, "Mr. Tanner, we understand these kinds of issues. Let me contact our supervisor to see how we can work this out." Tyler took out a phone from his suit and looked up at Rob. "Would you mind giving us some privacy? We need to explain everything to him and get instructions."

Rob nodded and headed out the door and back to the main floor. Johnson closed the door behind him. Tyler dialed while they both moved further into the room away from the door. Tyler held the phone so that Johnson could hear the conversation as well.

"Paul, this is Frank Tyler. We're at the Tanners," he said.

"Is everything going okay?" The man on the other end asked.

"Yeah…It looks like he's buying into it, but we have a problem. He's upset that he can't leave the house and go to work. He says that his company will have problems if he isn't there. I know how touchy this whole thing is, so I don't want to put my foot in it. What do you want to do?"

"I'll have to call Evan Stevens and find out if what Tanner is telling you is true. We don't want to get rough with him until we have to. You never know when you might need his willing cooperation. I'll call you back in a few minutes." The call clicked off and Tyler folded the cell phone closed.

Tyler looked at Johnson and said, "We're supposed to get Tanner to agree to get a disguise so that he can be in public. After that, we'll move to the other place. Go ahead and call the guys and have them drop off a couple of cots for us. We won't be too uncomfortable and we'll sleep better until we move." Johnson nodded and moved off to make his calls to have the equipment they needed delivered. Tyler's phone rang a few minutes later.

"Hey…What do they want us to do?"

"Stevens agrees that there are some forms that Tanner needs to sign to keep the SEC in the dark. He would have had us bring it up tomorrow, but Tanner is doing that for us. Tell Tanner that we realized that there were documents that need to be filed to protect his company and that we'll have him meet with Stevens in the morning. Once that's done, we'll see about moving to Stage 2."

"Okay, Paul. I'll handle it then. Ed's getting some beds delivered and I imagine that they'll be here in an hour, considering that the guys were standing by. Yeah…I think we can manage it. We'll report in tomorrow." He folded the cell phone again.

"He needs to sign some papers tomorrow. Once that's done, we'll talk to them about getting surgery to disguise them." He grinned evilly. "Let's go tell him." They made their way back to the main floor.

They found Rob sitting in the living room, leaning forward with his hands clasped between his knees. They could see that he was upset about leaving his company without a leader. Geri was next to him, hugging him like a dutiful wife should.

"Mr. Tanner? I spoke to my superior about your concerns. It appears that he was already in communication with your partner…a Mr. Stevens? and that it would be necessary to file some paperwork with the Securities and Exchange Commission. This would allow your company to continue operation without a problem."

"Yes, that's true. But I would feel better if I were able to help manage the business." Rob's concern for the company was obvious, but he was relieved that there might be a solution.

Geri spoke up, looking teary-eyed. "But Rob, you agreed that this was the best thing to do. If you try to keep working, they might hurt you to get to me. I couldn't live with myself if something happened to you."

'Besides,' she thought. 'We need you out of the way while we set up all of the transfer orders. If you're there, that would ruin everything.'

Rob looked into his wife's eyes, only seeing her concern for his safety and he couldn't say no. "Okay, when can we get the papers signed?" The love he felt for her was enough to make him willing to agree to anything.

* * * * *

The sleeping arrangements for the agents were quickly sorted out. Workmen had pulled up to the house with collapsible beds and had them set up within minutes of their arrival. While they worked, Tyler and Rob worked out that Evan would prepare the proper documents and that he would meet with them at a nearby coffeehouse the next day.

Tyler went up to the makeshift bedroom and Rob looked around the living room. Furniture had been moved about while everyone had talked and then the movers had shown up. Instead of trying to restore order, he stepped out onto the small front porch to try to relax.

He looked around the neighborhood, seeing the older oak and maple trees that indicated that this was one of the better areas in the city to live. Not somewhere that a person with two hundred million dollars in the bank would live, but definitely where the senior partner of a relatively successful investment business would live. When this was all over and he had taken possession of his trust fund, he was sure that Geri would start pushing to move away to some gated estate so that she could flaunt their 'wealth and position'. He wasn't really concerned about it though, that was just how his wife was.

He took a deep breath to clear his head and tried to relax the tendons in his neck and back. It was amazing how quickly everything could tense up. He could smell a cloud of old cigarette smoke hanging in the air, one of the workmen must have been smoking before they had left in their truck. Even though it had been a couple of years since he had stopped smoking himself, inhaling the corrosive and mildly aromatic tobacco smoke reminded him of the days when he had apt to smoke at least a pack a day. He'd gone cold turkey when he realized that both Sally and Geri found smoking to be disgusting and repellent. There were times that he still missed it though.

The neighborhood looked quiet and it looked like he was going to be stuck around here for the foreseeable future; he just hoped the Evan would be able to keep things on an even keel at work. He knew that Sally would help where she could. She was the best assistant in the business she had willingly agreed to work for Rob when he needed the help settling into the job of being the owner. She knew as much about the business as he did and she seemed to have as great a proprietary interest as well.

He smiled when he thought about her. She was only a couple of years older than he was, not quite thirty yet. She was actually one of the reasons the business had not collapsed after his parents had died in the crash. Their clients may have been nervous about dealing with him at the beginning, but Sally had been with the company for years and everyone saw her as a link between his father and himself. Clients knew that his dad had trusted Sally with a great deal of responsibility and the day-to-day work. She had become an excellent stabilizing influence and sounding board for him over the past couple of years.

The more he thought about it, Rob wondered if his dad hadn't hired Sally for more than her sharp mind and administration skills. If he didn't know better, he would have suspected that his father might have had the idea of trying to match Rob and Sally up. Of course, that would not have panned out as he had met Geri only a little bit before his parents were gone. He did wonder though. Sally never seemed to have a boyfriend, which was curious. She was attractive, standing a little taller than he was. She was in good shape, which meant that she probably went down to the corporate gym on her lunch hour. Rob knew that there was no shortage of young bucks around there that were only too happy to squire Sally around. She would have one or two dates with a guy and then they would be gone. She always seemed to be on good terms with them afterward though. She just seemed to be looking for something and had not found it yet.

Once the workmen were gone, everyone turned in for the night. Rob took the final turn in the shower, following the agents and Geri. Geri was, of course, first. It was almost an hour later before he stumbled into the bedroom and prepared to get into bed. As he did so, Geri rolled over and looked at him.

"Do you think that Diana wants to come out and play with her mistress?" she said sexily.

Rob grinned broadly, looked down at his feet, and said, "I'm sure that Diana would love to play with you, Mistress."

Geri had introduced her husband to role-playing games early on in their marriage so that getting him to dress up would be easy to do at this point. At the beginning, she had been the one to dress up as the French Maid, but she had gotten him to agree to also do it occasionally.

Once in a while had become a regular occurrence when they had sex. She did not consider what they did as making love. After all, she was married to Evan already and had only married Rob as part of her master plan to defraud him of his trust fund and company assets. A little bit of hypnosis and a lot of positive reinforcement on her part had gotten Rob to the point where he willingly dressed as a maid and was only interested in sex when he was.

He turned to one of the bureaus and took out a pink bra and a thong panty set. He quickly stripped off his pajamas and put on the silky undergarments. He took out his new set of breast forms and slid them into the bra. Geri had recently upgraded Diana from a tasteful C cup to a full figured DD. She had wanted him to get EE forms but Rob had sensibly pointed out that would require an entire new set of bras and dresses. He immediately went from being a slightly built blond man to a well-endowed blond bombshell in her underwear. His face was the only thing that betrayed the fact that he was not female.

He strutted to the closet in his lingerie, putting on a show for Geri, and took out a pretty pink baby doll nightie. He pulled the nightgown, what there was of it; over his head let it slither down his body. His wriggling caused his breasts to wobble, just as if they belonged to him. The feel of the nightdress brushing against his bare butt cheeks excited him to no end and was reflected by the bulge in his thong. He decided to forego using one of his gaffes because he expected to be taking it off in a few minutes anyway. A pair of skyscraper-height high heeled shoes, pink of course, completed the look. Rob had gotten enough practice in their dress-up play that he was perfectly comfortable with them and his legs had taken on the look of a runway model.

Looking at his legs, Geri could see that the exercises and diet that she had encouraged over the past few months had started to sculpt Rob's body in the direction she wanted. The less flab and undesirable muscle there was, the easier it would be to change him.

He turned to the bed and curtseyed to Geri. He shifted his voice to the higher registers Geri had encouraged him to use as a maid. "Can I get you anything, mistress?" For some reason, using a higher voice had gotten easier as time went on.

"Yes, Diana. I would like a glass of warm milk."

"Yes, Mistress," Rob said. He curtseyed again and shimmied out to the kitchen to get the milk. As he reached the bedroom door however, he stopped and turned. "Those marshals are upstairs, what if they happen to be out there?"

"Well, Diana. You are my servant and I want a glass of milk. If you run into them, just tell them that I sent you. You do want to obey me, don't you?" Geri's voice took on a tone of someone who expected to be obeyed, without shouting or being threatening.

"Yes, Mistress," Rob said again, his voice quavering somewhat with his uncertainty. His tone was one of obedience and there was something about what Geri had just said that made him want to do what he was told, but his stomach was doing little flip-flops.

The kitchen was dark, so he turned on one of the side lights so that he could see what he was doing. He got a glass from the cabinet which always seemed to be a little too high for him, but the added height of his shoes helped a little. The bottom of his baby doll slid up the back of his ass and tickled. The sensation was so erotic, that Rob didn't think that his cock could get any larger.

He had just set the glass on the counter in order to get the milk when he heard, "Well…well…I didn't know that Mrs. Tanner's little sister was visiting."

Rob gave a girlish little shriek and spun around. He saw agent Johnson leaning against the counter behind him grinning. For some reason, Rob felt small in the presence of the other man and all he could do is look down at the floor.

"What might your name be, missy?" Johnson asked.

"My name is Diana, sir," Rob said, curtseying. Unconsciously, his hand crept up to scratch at his nose. When he realized what he was doing, he forced himself to relax and put his hand down. Even though he knew that he had been caught and he knew that Johnson knew exactly who he was, he found that he couldn't break out of his persona as Diana, even down to using Diana's high voice. At the same time, he was trying to pull the front of the nightie down so that he wasn't betraying just how much fun this all was.

"My name is Frank Johnson ma'am," Johnson said, playing it straight. He knew who this was and Rob knew that he knew it. It was as if they were both trying to keep a straight face and he was sure that Rob was mortified to be strutting around in cute little nightdress.

Rob could not help curtseying again and said, "My mistress sent me out for a glass of milk. I'm afraid that you surprised me sir."

"I apologize, ma'am." Johnson's whole behavior let it be known that he wasn't sorry and that he was enjoying the whole thing. "I just came down to get a snack." He picked up an apple from the counter next to Rob. "I'll just head on back upstairs now. You have a good night ma'am." He winked and sauntered out of the kitchen with a smile. Rob wasn't sure, but he thought that he saw a bulge in the front of the other man's trousers.

All Rob could do is look down and shake his head in shame. He couldn't understand why he had acted like a submissive servant, but it was like he was locked into autopilot. Even though he didn't think that he could be more embarrassed, he somehow felt a thrill go through him that he had been dressed like a sexy girl in a night dress in front of a strange man.

He was sure that neither one the agents would be down any more tonight as they would not want to walk in on whatever he and Geri might be doing later. He poured the glass of milk that Geri had requested and warmed it briefly in the microwave. He watched it carefully as he did not want Geri yelling at him again for bringing her hot curdled milk. She had not let him back into bed with her for two days for that mistake. When he thought the milk was ready, he found a tray to carry it on and took the glass out of the microwave. He returned to the bedroom, sashayed up to the bed, and offered the tray to Geri.

"Diana, did you bring me any cookies to go with my milk?" Geri asked, looking at Rob as he stood before her with his hands clasped before him.

Rob looked down and said, "No, ma'am. I didn't look to see if we had any."

"Diana," Geri chided. "A good maid must learn to anticipate her mistress' or her master's needs and wants. If you are going to be a good domestic, you need to keep this in mind."

"Yes, ma'am. I'll try to do better," Rob was properly polite and apologetic; he should have known that Geri might want something to go with her milk. He had let her down again and he felt like he wanted to cry. "I will make you some cookies tomorrow."

Of course, this was all role-play to him and his only thought at this point was to please his wife again so that they might do this again tomorrow. After all, the after role-play play was so much fun.

After Geri finished her milk and set it aside, she said, "Diana, my husband took a shower earlier. Did he take care of his towel or leave it on the floor again?"

"I believe that it is on the floor, Mistress," Rob said, looking down.

"Well, please clean up in the bathroom. I swear, if you did not clean up after him, this house would be a mess," Geri said, shaking her head.

"Yes, Mistress." Rob strutted in her high heels to the bathroom and cleaned up the mess that he had made as Rob. Geri watched him as he left the room. Just looking at him dressed this way made Geri hot. She wished that the next phase of her master plan would arrive sooner.

Rob returned after a few minutes to find Geri reclining on the bed, nude.

Playing the demanding mistress to the hilt allowed Geri to continue to browbeat her husband and enforce his submissiveness and the maid mentality. "Diana! What have I told you about makeup? Put on your lip gloss!"

"Yes, ma'am." Rob picked up a tube of chapstick from the bureau and coated her lips.

"Now, I need attention myself. Give me a kiss please." She spread her legs wider as she spoke, making it plain which lips she wanted to be kissed. Her pussy puckered invitingly to Rob and he could see that his wife was already hot and wet for him.

Rob climbed on to the bed and knelt between Geri's legs. Leaning forward, he kissed his way up and down the insides of Geri's thighs, dragging his tongue as he went. He was rewarded with little shivers and moans from Geri who was becoming very aroused. Rob was just as aroused as his cock threatened to break through the tight thong. After licking and kissing all around Geri's pussy and favoring it with several puffs of air that made Geri jump each time, Rob lightly licked the glistening slit from top to bottom. Several light flicks of the tongue made it clear that Geri was more than ready for the main event and Rob closed down on her clitoris to give it a serious tongue-lashing. Geri gave a small yelp every time Rob's coarse tongue scraped over her clitoris. Finally, Geri could take no more and pushed her partner away. The lip gloss that Rob had applied was seriously smeared and most of it now coated his wife's nether lips.

Rob left for the bathroom to clean up and to get ready to return to bed. Of course, he came back unclothed and got into bed. As he lay back, expecting Geri to roll over to being kissing and rubbing, she snuggled up to him, dressed again in her nightclothes. Her hand trailed up his thigh to briefly cup his balls, avoiding contact with his seriously hardened cock, before continuing across his belly to his chest. Her nails scratched lightly across his chest and erect nipples.

"Your skin feels kind of dry, Rob. Are you using enough moisturizer?" she asked.

"I believe so. I hadn't noticed any problems."

"Well, let me rub some in for you. You don't want to have to deal with irritated skin," Geri sounded so concerned about Rob's comfort. It gave him a warm feeling to know how much his wife cared about him.

Geri rolled over and picked up a tube of cream from her nightstand. "Here, I'll rub it in for you." She squeezed a generous amount on to her hands and began to rub it into his chest, paying extra attention to his nipples and the area that would be called his breasts. Rob stiffened as the area under her hands began to feel warm and tingly. His nipples felt as if they were hard enough to scratch glass and he could swear that his cock was stiff enough to drive nails.

Just when the heat felt incredibly good and his entire body seemed to be vibrating, she craned her neck to kiss him. "Thank you for helping to protect me," she said. She put her arms around him to hug him and her head down on his chest, making it plain that her teasing would not be going any further.

Rob let out a quiet, frustrated sigh, bringing an unseen smile to Geri's face. It took Rob a while to finally fall asleep, but not before some strange feeling of sadness caused tears to stream down his face.

* * * * *

The sun had been up for a while when Rob finally woke up. Geri was gone from beside him and her spot was cold, she had obviously been up for a while. He dressed quickly in casual clothes and took care of his morning business in the bathroom.

Padding into the kitchen he found that coffee had been made, so he poured himself a cup and went looking for everyone. He found Geri and the federal agents seated at the dining table talking. Their conversation came to an abrupt halt the minute he appeared.

As he entered the room, agent Tyler looked up at him and said, "Ah…Mr. Tanner. I was beginning to think that you were going to sleep all day. We were getting ready to wake you."

"Sorry. It was a late night," Rob answered. He took a swallow of coffee, savoring the taste and hoped that it would wake him up.

"Did you take your vitamins, dear? They should help," asked Geri. When Rob indicated that he had not gotten around to it yet, she went into the kitchen and came back with two tablets in her hand. "Here you go. I swear you'd forget your head if it wasn't fastened on." She laughed and looked at Tyler and Johnson, who laughed a moment after her. Rob smiled to acknowledge the humor and popped the pills into his mouth. Washing them down with the last of the coffee, he returned the cup to the kitchen.

Tyler stood up and said, "If you like, I can call Mr. Stevens and arrange for him to meet us. You could get some breakfast at the same time."

Rob nodded and said, "That sounds good, but my appetite has been off lately. I'll have to see if I'm hungry when we get there."

Tyler made a call and arranged to meet Evan in an hour. He and Rob headed out a few minutes later, leaving Johnson to watch over Geri. After about a twenty minute drive, Tyler pulled up to a small coffeehouse and they went inside. As Evan had not appeared as yet, they ordered coffee and bagels at the counter and found a table. Their names had not been called yet when Evan and Sally pulled up in Sally's car.

Rob waved at them as they came in and they went through introductions and exchanged handshakes. Evan towered over Rob by several inches. Sally was the only one to note that it was a normal occurrence that Rob seemed to retreat into himself a little when he was around Evan, almost like he was afraid to challenge him in things. Evan's expression was all business, where Sally's showed concern for Rob. She smiled warmly at Rob, which went unnoticed by Evan and Tyler.

Evan sent Sally up to the counter to place their orders. He thought nothing of treating her as a subordinate instead of a co-worker. Rob had noted it several times and had mentioned it to Evan. After the second confrontation, Evan had made it clear to Rob that she was only a glorified secretary and he saw no reason to change his attitude towards her. Rob had retreated from the conversation and had not brought it up again, even though he felt bad for Sally when it happened.

After they had taken their seats, Tyler spoke first, "Mr. Stevens? How much paperwork do you have for Mr. Tanner to sign?"

Evan looked at Rob and then Tyler before saying, "There is a fair amount that requires signatures and notarization. I brought Miss Olsen as she is a notary public. As long as she witnesses our signatures, she can take care of the formalities later and we can file everything with the SEC.

"There is one problem though…The SEC has changed their procedures somewhat and we did not find out until today that we will need to submit these documents to them, wait for confirmation, and then sign the documents that they send back."

Tyler said, "That's interesting."

Evan shrugged and said, "Yes. I explained what the situation was to an upper-level supervisor and they agreed that these are highly unusual circumstances. They did offer to courier the counter-signature documents to us though. It just means that I will need to meet with you again tomorrow to finalize things."

"Well, if that is how it must be…" said Tyler. He looked over to Rob and asked, "Will that be okay with you, Mr. Tanner?"

Rob hesitated and said, "I suppose so. It still feels like I should be there to help run things though. We don't know how long we could be in this situation."

Evan spoke calmingly to Rob, "Rob, agent Tyler explained things to me. Geri's life could be in danger and yours too. You both need to protect yourselves until this is over. I promise to take care of the company as if it were mine alone; I know how much it means to you. You just need to worry about watching over Geri."

Sally had been watching the conversation quietly. A moment later, both orders were announced and Evan turned to her and said, "Sally, be a good girl and get that? I'll start getting everything ready."

His tone of voice was a command instead of a request and she rose stiffly to comply. Rob stood as well and said, "I can help you Sally. Agent Tyler, I think that we will need more space for everything. Could you pull that empty table over? That way we will have a place to put the paperwork."

Tyler looked up at Rob and nodded. While he was moving chairs and the table, Rob and Sally picked up the various breakfast items and maneuvered them back to the tables. By the time they had returned, Evan had pulled out a stack of folders and laid them out.

Everyone busied themselves with their food for a few minutes and then looked up to begin the process of working through the folders and documents. Not every sheet required a signature, but it began to feel like it to Rob. Evan would sign off on a packet, Rob would review it briefly before adding his signature, and then pass it to Sally for her notary seal and then to put back into its folder and then into the briefcase that she carried. Rob noted in passing that Evan was not carrying anything and seemed to treat Sally like a pack mule, why hadn't he noticed that particular attitude about Evan before?

It took them a couple of hours and coffee refills before everything had been signed and counter-signed properly. Sally was finally able to zip her briefcase closed and Evan stood immediately. "We need to get these finished and over to the SEC. I believe that using a courier rather than sending everything by fax will be more secure, so we need to leave now." Rob stood and Evan shook his hand, "Don't worry about anything. The company will be fine, trust me."

"I know that, Evan. I just don't like sitting back and letting someone else do the work that I should be doing," Rob answered. "After all, my dad built that company and I know most of our investors personally. The company is almost like my child to me."

"Don't worry. It will be okay. You and Geri will be back before you know it. Think of it like a vacation." Evan and Tyler turned to head for the door. Rob could not see the sneer of contempt on Evan's face. 'When Rob was able to return to his company, he wouldn't recognize it. Nor it recognize him, hee hee.'Thought Evan.

Only Rob saw Sally's narrowed eyes directed at Evan's back. Rob let the other two get almost to the door and quietly asked Sally, "What seems to be the problem? Is there something wrong at work or home?"

Sally relaxed and shook her head, "Nothing really. I just get a bad feeling with Evan. I know that you and Geri are stuck with having to drop out of sight, but it just feels like a mistake to put Evan in charge of everything. The thing is that I don't know what else you could do."

"I know, Sally," Rob said. "I feel the same way. But, like you said, Geri and I are in danger. So we will just have to trust Evan to keep the business running. He just is not that good at bringing new investors."

"You're right. I'll keep my eyes open and try to help where I can. You know that you can depend upon me, Rob." She looked at him a little sadly, but Rob did not notice.

Evan and Tyler had paused at the door and were looking back at them. When Rob and Sally realized that the other two were waiting for them, they turned and headed over.

"Is there a problem?" Tyler asked.

"No. Sally was just concerned about Geri and I being away and I was telling her that everything would be fine," Rob answered.

They all headed out to the cars. Evan shook Rob's hand and again told him that he had nothing to worry about. Sally impulsively gave Rob a strong hug and whispered that she would do her best for him.

* * * * *

Rob and Tyler drove home in silence. Once they were back, Rob told Geri about the meeting with Evan and that he would need to meet with them the following day to finalize giving Evan the ability to deal with the SEC and other organizations. Afterward, he napped for a few hours, attributing his fatigue to the late night and relative lack of sleep. He did not see the smiles on the faces of the other three as he trudged off to the bedroom.

When he woke, it was evening and getting rather dark outside. Tyler and Johnson were outside the front of the house, smoking and trying to stay concealed. Rob shook his head in confused amusement at how government employees could be so foolish as to shorten their lives by smoking. Most people understood that smoking was a mistake. Rob gave a mental shrug and went out to the kitchen. He found Geri at the stove, stirring a pan of soup.

She looked a little surprised to see him and said, "Hi! The way you were sleeping, I thought you were going to sleep until tomorrow. I decided to make you some soup and I was about come and get you."

"Smells good. What is it?"

"Just some soup. I seasoned it pretty well, so it won't just taste like canned," she answered with a smile. She ladled a large helping into a bowl and set it before him, along with a sandwich.

The soup tasted good, but he complained that the sandwich had an off taste. Geri just frowned and said, "There should be anything wrong with it. Maybe you're coming down with something. Your appetite has been off too. Try to eat it anyway," she answered. He plowed through the sandwich and the soup as he was told. Before too long, he was yawning again.

Geri looked at him closely and said, "You're looking a little pale. Let's get you back to bed." She let him lean on her as she guided him back to the bedroom. He was almost asleep by the time they reached the bed. Geri turned him slightly toward the bed and pushed, letting him flop loosely on to the mattress. She threw his legs up onto the bed and pulled him over to one side before covering him with a blanket.

"There. Now you're all nice and comfy. Let's let you listen to some more music shall we?" She opened the headboard and pulled out headphones which she slid over Rob's ears. She started a small digital player that was attached to the headphones and left the room. Rob was sound asleep and never moved a muscle.

The two men looked up as she came out into the living area. She looked at them and said, "He's out like a light. I don't expect him to wake up for about twelve hours and he won't even remember falling asleep." She grinned wolfishly. "I've started him on a new conditioning program, so he should start being a little easier to handle. It won't be noticeable when you take him out tomorrow, but we should be able to get him to cooperate with the plastic surgery."

Tyler sat back and looked at her. "I don't understand why you're doing this. All we need to do is keep him on ice until Stevens has all of the transfers set up. We probably won't even need him around by the time he actually executes them."

"True," Geri replied. "But we need a fall guy to take the heat for us after all of the cash has been transferred away. The way I understand it, Evan is going to move the money through three or four different companies before it reaches our dummy corporation. Then we have to be careful about moving it to Belize. Once it's there, we can draw it out in American dollars. But if we don't have Rob for them to focus on, they'll come looking for us. That's why we're having plastic surgery. Also, if we put him off-balance with the surgery and the hypnosis, the story he tells will make him look crazy and like a pervert. Imagine how the media will play up an investment banker who steals a billion dollars and wants to go live as a she-male somewhere.

"Humiliating him is just a plus for me. I mean, either one of you would make two of him. He's a nice guy, but all he ever does is to give in to me. How can you respect somebody who is always falling all over themselves just to make you happy? It's like living with a human puppy dog.

Tyler could tell that he had struck a rather sensitive nerve and he decided to change the subject. "Stevens thinks that he'll have everything he needs from the SEC by the early afternoon. He wants you to call him." Geri nodded curtly to him and went into the kitchen with her cell phone. She returned about a half hour later.

"Evan thinks that he should have the SEC documents like you said. He wants you to take Rob to the office tomorrow to be signed and I'll go out to meet Evan. You should plan on being gone for a few hours so that Rob doesn't wonder where I am."

Tyler smiled slyly and nodded.

Geri looked thoughtful for a few moments and Tyler could almost see the light bulb flash on over her head. "I think that it couldn't hurt to start Rob's day off a little out of balance. If the two of you help me, I think that tomorrow morning could be fun." She looked at the two men, grinning broadly.

She led them into the bedroom where Rob was lying in his drug-induced sleep. Quietly directing them, they took out Rob's French Maid uniform, undergarments, and everything needed to transform him into Diana. They quickly stripped him of his clothes, being careful not to disturb Rob's headphones and redressed him. The only time that Geri was on her own when it came to the gaffe. Geri was forced to perform the tuck and roll with Rob's penis and two attendants. Apparently, gangsters were too manly to touch another man's equipment.

* * * * *

Rob seemed to be standing in a large room. The gray walls, floor, and ceiling made it impossible to tell if the room was the size of a gymnasium or as small as his bedroom. He tried yelling, but there was not echo. After a moment, he wasn't sure if he had even tried to make any noise. When he tried to walk, he couldn't tell if he was actually moving.

The monotony of his surroundings coupled with a just-noticeable warmth was enough to completely relax him. With nothing to catch his attention, either sight or sound, he let himself just settle to the floor. The floor itself seemed to be incredibly soft almost as if it were a giant cushion. He wondered that, if he had the energy, would the walls be just as soft and warm.

As he let himself drift, he became aware of a whisper, just at the edge of his hearing. "Relax…Don't worry about things…Just do what you're told…" If he tried to focus on it, he couldn't seem to hear it, but by relaxing, he could just hear it. He let himself just seem to float, listening to the whisper. He felt so safe and warm…

* * * * *

Rob woke up at about mid-morning, sunlight streaming in through the blinds. Again, Geri was long gone from the bed and he did not recall when she had come to bed. He made his way into the bathroom to take care of business and the grogginess he felt cleared when he realized with a jolt how he was dressed. He hyperventilated for a moment because he had no memory of dressing before he had gone to bed. He was sure that he had been wearing pajamas earlier, so what did it mean that he had gotten up in the middle of the night and become Diana? Geri must have seen him when she got up this morning. What would she think? He looked in the mirror and saw that he had even put on eyeliner, mascara, and lipstick. And he could feel the gaffe between his legs, almost too tight against his member. What was wrong with him that he would dress as Diana in his sleep?

Before he could totally lose control of himself, Rob made a conscious effort to relax and regain control of his breathing. He needed to talk to Geri about this. He had to make sure that she wasn't somehow upset with his cross-dressing when they weren't playing and reassure her that this would never happen again. At least without her knowledge and agreement. He gave no thought to the fact that he suddenly needed her permission to play dress-up; he just knew that the thought made him feel good.

He came out feeling much better after a shave and a shower, the shave appearing to be a waste of time. He found Geri and agent Tyler in the living room, watching a game show.

Geri looked at Rob with a little smile and said, "Did you enjoy yourself last night?" All Rob could do was look down with a bright red face and nod. With Tyler in the room, he was afraid to ask her what had happened once she had come to bed.

Tyler pretended not to know what was going on and said, "Ah…You're up. Mr. Stevens called about an hour ago to tell us that the SEC documents were being couriered to your business offices and that we should come there to finish up."

"Sounds good. Let me get a cup of coffee and we can go," replied Rob.

"We can get one on the way. We would like to get this cleared up," said Tyler.

"Okay," Rob said quietly.

"We can leave now and be back in an hour or two," Tyler said, amazed at how easily Rob agreed.

Geri was watching the conversation with a barely concealed grin. She had been preparing her husband for this for weeks and, now that they were stepping up the hormones and hypnosis, she expected to turn him into a helpless puppet in no time. She watched her husband trail after Tyler to the car, almost laughing now that Rob was out of the house.

"What a wimp," she sneered. As the car pulled out of the drive, she gathered her purse and headed for the door. As she was opening it, Johnson was coming into the room. She looked back and said, "I'll be back in a few hours." Johnson nodded and turned toward the kitchen.

The drive to Rob's business office was quiet and uneventful. By the time they had arrived, Rob had roused himself from what almost felt like a trance. He and Tyler entered the main door and waved hello to the receptionist as they headed back toward Evan's office. They had to pass Rob's office first and Sally caught them as they went by. "Rob! Evan's not here. He had to run out to take care of something that came up, but he said that you and I could finish things up. He made sure to sign everything and wanted me to have you counter-sign and then I could notarize everything."

"Okay. Do you want to do it in here?" Rob asked, indicating his own office.

Sally held up a large package and said, "Sure." She turned to Tyler and said, "It will take some time to finish up. Do you want to sit in here with us? We do have a lounge where the chairs are more comfortable."

Tyler took in the office chairs and said, "I can wait in the lounge. Is there some place I can get some coffee?"

"Sure, there's a coffee pot in there too."

Tyler thanked her and walked off toward the lounge.

Before they settled down to work through the stack of documents requiring a counter-signature, Sally retrieved coffee for them both. Rob sat back in his chair and said, "I feel like I've been on the go for the last three days."

Sally studied Rob's face closely and could have sworn he was wearing mascara, but decided now was not the time to bring something like that up. "Well…you do look tired," Sally said.

"I shouldn't be. I've been getting close to twelve hours of sleep a night. But I never even had a chance to have breakfast this morning. I woke up and we had to get over here right away."

"No problem. I have a sandwich I made for myself for lunch. Hang on," Sally said. She went out to her desk and brought back her sack lunch.

"Sally, I don't want to take your lunch," Rob objected.

"Don't be silly Rob," Sally replied. "It's easier for me to take care of lunch than it will be for you. Go ahead."

While Rob worked his way through the sandwich, Sally watched and sipped her coffee. "So, can you tell me what's going on? All Evan told me yesterday is that you and Geri had something going on with the feds and that you were going to be away from the office for quite a while."

"I am not allowed to tell anyone this, but you are not just anyone, so keep this just between us. Well…the federal marshals are telling us that it should only be a few days. It seems the Geri witnessed a murder being committed by someone they believe is an enforcer for a Mexican drug cartel. They think that we might be danger and they're keeping us in protective custody at the house until they know that the danger is over."

Sally shook her head in confusion.

"No offense, but that sound a little funny to me. Why not move you to a more secure location and bring Evan and me to you instead of exposing you by coming here? And what happens after they catch the guy? It seems that you would be in even more danger."

"I know. Things have been happening so fast around me that I'm a little confused."

"Rob, I understand. You've been distracted for the past few weeks. Is there something wrong?"

"No, I don't think so. Geri thinks that I'm either dealing with a virus or getting over one."

"You're a lot quieter today than I've ever seen you before. I wish that we could have gotten you to the doctor. You've been tired for weeks now and I swear that you have lost weight."

"Well definitely, when this is over."

Sally threw her hands up and said, "But it's still up in the air. Do you think that the feds can get you in to see a doctor while they have you locked down?"

"I'd have to check, but it seems like a good idea to see if they can get me in somewhere, if not with Dr. White," Rob said. "Something else that just occurred to me. My parent's trust fund is supposed to come under my control in October. With all of this that is going on, I'm thinking that we don't need the additional confusion that will bring. If I delay it, we'll have to move it out for a full year."

"Your trust fund is a pretty good size. I mean, that's two hundred million dollars to defer taking ownership of!" Sally was surprised that Rob would put off taking ownership of such a large amount of money, but not shocked. He didn't regard the money as a right or let it make him overbearing or obnoxious, like many of their rich investors she had to deal with.

He shrugged. "Well, the monthly allowance from the trust should be enough until this time next year."

"How does Geri feel about that?" Sally asked, her eyes narrowing.

"I haven't been able to discuss it with her. We've been living pretty well on the monthly check, so she shouldn't be too upset. I'll tell her as soon as I can though. Another thing, I want to make you the executor of the fund, in case that becomes necessary."

Sally nodded, but her expression was rather skeptical. Her impression of Rob's wife over the past year or so was of someone who cared about her position and the money that went with it. Almost everyone who met her could see it. The only one who did not was Rob. He was still so much in love with her that she could no wrong. Sally had an image in which Rob would do absolutely anything for the woman he loved, with no questions asked. But her image of Rob was not of a gullible sucker but of someone with a good heart who just needed to learn who to trust.

When she looked at Rob, her eyes were tear-filled and Rob could not miss the concern that her expression conveyed. "Rob, what am I supposed to do if something happens to you?"

Rob was a little teary also as he hugged one of his best friends and said, "Sally, you will be responsible for disbursing the funds. Make sure that Geri is taken care of and then give the rest to charity. Just remember charity starts at home — as executor you are entitled to a fair salary."

Being a man, Rob had missed the real point of Sally's question. Not wanting to embarrass him by having to explain her question and absolutely terrified if he answered it the wrong way, she let it go. She let herself just hold the man that she had come to love over the past years and that she had resigned herself to never having.

They finally got to work and spent the next couple of hours wading through the various pieces of paper that needed his signature. It took a little longer as Sally imprinted her seal on each sheet as they worked. When they were finished, Rob took a few minutes to call for the courier while Sally caught up with her notary tasks and he let Tyler know that they were almost done. It looked like they would be able to submit the papers before the end of the day.

Once everything had been sent off with the courier, Rob went back to the lounge to find Tyler. Tyler was just finishing a phone call and said, "Philadelphia PD believes that they may have a lead on the killer your wife saw. We're going to have your dinner delivered this evening and my supervisor will let us know where we stand."

They arrived back at the house a while later. It was almost dark by the time that Tyler parked in the drive and they went in. They found Geri and Johnson preparing the dining table and laying out the food that appeared to have just been delivered. Rob gave Geri a quick hug and everyone sat down to eat. Tyler filled Johnson in on the plan to call their supervisor after dinner. Geri was rather quiet and did not respond to Rob's attempts to start a conversation about how she spent her day.

When they had finished, Tyler and Johnson went off to make their phone calls and Geri left the room, rebuffing Rob's attempts to talk to her. Rob was left to clean up by himself. He really wanted to discuss the decisions he had made about the trust fund, but he realized that he would have to wait until she was in a more receptive mood. He assumed that her behavior must be due to the stress of the need for the federal security. He resolved to discuss this with her when they got up in the morning. By the time he had finished his shower, he found Geri already feigning sleep so he got into bed also, finding it easy to fall asleep.

* * * * *

When Rob woke the next morning, he did a quick check to see how he was dressed — relieved to find Diana wasn't there this morning. He found that Geri had beaten him out of bed yet again. He dressed quickly and went out to find himself a cup of coffee. He found Geri and Johnson sitting in the living room while Tyler was on the phone. From the little Rob heard, the news did not sound good. Tyler hung up, faced the other three, and started his story.

"The Philadelphia Police Department arrested the killer that Mrs. Tanner saw. Unfortunately, the cartel is now aware of her and we need to take steps to put you in a safe place and prevent them from finding and killing you both."

"What does this mean though?" asked Rob.

Tyler looked uncomfortable as he said, "It means that we need to move you out of here to a safe place and take steps to keep you from being recognized."

Geri spoke up and asked, "What do you mean keep us from being recognized? Will we have to wear disguises all the time?" She followed her part of the script perfectly.

"It's something that we really do not publicize about these cases, Mrs. Tanner," answered Tyler. "We utilize some minor plastic surgery to modify your appearance and also move you to a safe house. By changing your appearance, we can reduce the level of security to avoid the possibility of detection and give you the ability to be out in public somewhat. This is something that we could not do if you remain as you are. You would be forced to remain out of sight in the safe house and we would need to maintain a greater presence while protecting you."

"What would the plastic surgery entail?" asked Rob. He still felt a little concerned about leaving the house behind, but his head seemed to be filled with cotton, making thinking difficult.

"I can't tell you that. We need to take you to the clinic so that you can talk to the medical folks. They will be able to discuss what will be involved. I'm sorry to have to rush you, but we need to go as soon as possible before the cartel takes any action."

Geri stood up. "I guess if we're going to do this, we should get going then."

Rob looked at Geri and nodded. "We can at least talk to the doctors and find out what they recommend."