Whoops Payback
By Marina Kelly

For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. This is a story about the aftermath of a wife's conduct toward her husband continuing my story 'Whoops'.

This story was previously posted on FM; but has been heavily edited and rewritten, thanks to the creative mind of Monica Rose. The ending is a drastic change from my last version.

Marina J

@ @ @ @

Carol had just arrived home from her office, poured two glasses of Phil's favorite white wine, and waited for her husband's return from work. Lost in her melancholy, Carol lamented her rash actions for the thousandth time, which had put such a strain on their marriage. 'Oh why hadn't I simply talked to Phil when I found all those female clothes?'

Halfway through her wine Carol began to relax and realized, at least in the professional sense, things had gone way better than she could have hoped for. Dr. Phyllis had rapidly developed an almost cult like following among San Francisco's transgender community, known as the psychologist with the bodacious boobs. Carol had offered to reduce the size of his implants, but Phyllis declined for now. They had become his trademark, and were partially responsible for the long waiting list of clients. Ignoring the potential ethical conflicts of nepotism, Phyllis had even referred several of her transgender patients to Carol's office for cosmetic surgery.

Unfortunately at home, things had not gone as well. Phil told Carol that he forgave her; but he could not forget her lack of faith in him. He remained a real gloomy Gus. Carol had tried everything from sex to booze to lift his spirits. So far nothing had worked. Carol sipped her drink and let her mind wander, and tried to think outside the box, contemplated various scenarios to revive their relationship. She ran a range of ideas through her imagination. 'Let me see, every man's fantasy is a three way - no that would raise the thorny issue of who to invite. If we invited a man I would be left out. There is no way I could compete with her body. Maybe just some role playing, hmmm that has possibilities. Perhaps we could take a romantic vacation; I would love to see Phyllis in a bikini. As Carol mentally visualized her husband frolicking in the surf wearing only an 'itsy bitsy, teeny weenie yellow polka dot bikini,' a broad smile broke out across her face. Carol chuckled, "With Phyllis's body it would have to be special ordered of course.

This all brought Carol back full circle to reality. Carol's first attempt at sex with her feminized husband had been an unmitigated disaster. Phyllis had initially rejected Carol's overtures outright. Burdened with a great deal of guilt, Carol spent an inordinate amount of time planning and seducing her feminized husband. She knew she had to do something, and was fearful that one day Phyllis might lose interest in her as a sexual partner altogether. Intimacy was only consummated when Carol was the aggressor, and eventually he gave in to her persistent advances.

Alas, conventional intercourse proved impossible as Phil's little man would swell; but wouldn't remain firm enough for penetration. On the positive side, the couple rediscovered the joys of oral sex. His penis was still sensitive and with the right stimulation Carol was able to give Phyllis a modicum of pleasure. Her medical books assured her castrated men were fully capable of having erections; there are documented cases of them achieving an orgasm.

Carol laid her head on the back of the couch and let her mind wander, attempting to escape the nightmare of her life. She concentrated on the memories of her recent successes in the bedroom. At the offer of sex, Phyllis would feign indifference and put up token resistance. However once Carol got him into bed and started sucking and licking his erogenous zones, his walls of inhibitions crumbled like a sandcastle hit by a wave. Carol took pride in her seduction prowess. Hers, and as it turns out his, preferred foreplay was when Carol would work on his hypersensitive nipples, she could get him to squirm and moan like a bitch in heat. For those brief few minutes by alternating between Phyllis's three pleasure points Carol was able to let her husband relax and enjoy his new status of a man with tits. Carol was able to give her lover satisfaction, albeit short of a sperm spouting climax, but still it provided a form of sexual release he had been without for so long. After her sessions of fellatio, Phyllis would reciprocate; however Carol was aware his heart wasn't in it. She perceived it was performed more out of a sense of duty than enjoyment.

The sound of a car pulling into the driveway broke Carol out of her trance. She jumped up, her hormones raging and almost knocked over the glass of wine perched on the coffee table. Rushing to greet her hubby at the front door Carol glanced through the window treatments hanging on the bay window. Her heart sank as she realized that the car was not theirs. Rather the shiny new BMW parked in the driveway belonged to her ex-best friend, Sue.

Carol answered the door and swung it partially open, and unenthusiastically inquired, "Yes, what is it?

"Can I come in?"

Carol shrugged and replied, "Sure, where's your partner in crime?"

Sue nonchalantly dropped the bomb, "Oh Chris, he's gone."

A stunned Carol threw the door open and pulled Sue into her house. "OMG, what happened?"

Gesturing towards Carol she announced, "You guys 'happened'. I blame Chris for this entire mix-up. If he had been 'man' enough to tell me he was really a 'woman', none of this would have come about. I was so mad at him. I wanted to cut his nuts off and feed them back to him in a casserole."

"You wouldn't!"

Laughing Sue said, "No of course not, all that blood would be too hard to clean up; but it was an option for a while."

"Carol, what hurt me the worst was his actions destroyed our friendship. The bastard is paying for that, I promise. I have been so concerned about you...and Phil too of course."

Carol engulfed Sue in a sisterly embrace and tried to comfort her. After a brief pause Carol said. "Sure I was angry, but I don't blame you. I do blame Chris a little. After I calmed down it became clear, the fault was entirely mine, I was a total idiot. It was too easy to believe I was the victim, another deceived wife. I became so self-absorbed in feeling sorry for myself I lost all perspective. It was so simple to jump to conclusions, and to believe the worst about Phil."

The two women shared an emotional moment. Sue inquired, "Are we still friends? I haven't heard from you since that day."

Carol responded by hugging her friend as firmly as she could. The tears in her eyes clouded her vision but she still noticed the slightest of movements in the porch shadows. "Sue is someone with you?"

Sue let go of her friend and took a small step back. She turned towards the open doorway and said, "Oh my, where are my manners. Carol I would like you to meet my new housekeeper, I brought along me so I could introduce her to you and Phil. Chrissie get your ass in here!"

In walked a tall, plain looking woman wearing a red long sleeve maxi dress, that was set off nicely with her short brown curly hair and long dangly earrings that lightly grazed the top of her broad shoulders. Carol's first impression was this woman lacked self-confidence; she moved with a strained gate and wore way too much makeup and had a diminutive bosom for such a large woman.

Carol stared at her new houseguest, her head on a swivel as she looked from Sue and then to Chrissie and back again. Suddenly she had an epiphany. In amazement she said, "Sue, I thought you said that Chris was gone, if I am wrong this is going to be terribly embarrassing; but isn't this your husband?"

Sue let out a belly laugh and looked Chrissie in the face and said, "Oh heavens no. I no longer have a husband. Do I Chrissie?"

Chrissie stuttered out the response, "N...No Ma'am, you...your husband no longer exists. He has been replaced with me, your devoted and faithful attendant."

Carol raised a cocked eyebrow and stared at Chrissie, half expecting to see a curtsy. But instead she observed a woman with an enigmatic grin who stood perfectly still, her shoulders back, and hands demurely crossed in front.

"Sue, what the hell is going on?"

"Alright, if I have to spell it out for you I will. As you found out Chris is a transsexual and has wanted to live his life as a woman. I have simply given him that opportunity. We had a long talk and realized we still love each other so we decided to stay together, just not as husband and wife. Chrissie is now my boarder, has her own room - in the basement and pays me rent; but as a punishment for her keeping secrets, she volunteered to become my permanent housekeeper. She goes to her law office during the day and comes home at night. After her household chores are completed she transitions into my friend/companion, and on some special nights, my concubine. She really has a very talented tongue. I am thinking about renting her out."

Chrissie shifted nervously back and forth on his feet and turned a deep crimson red from embarrassment; but remained silent.

Carol's hand flew to her face in disbelief as she proclaimed, "Oh my God! That means my actions have destroyed two marriages!"

"No dear," Sue gestured towards Chrissie, "Our relationship was doomed for a long time. Chris keeping his secret was like the sword of Damocles hanging over our marriage. It was only a matter of time until it fell. So please don't feel responsible for anything that has happened between us. In fact, I believe we are happier now than at any time in our marriage."

Chrissie smiled and nodded his head almost indiscernibly in agreement.

Carol looked at the wine glasses on the table and said, "I am a terrible hostess. Here Sue take this one, I will get another glass for Chris."

Sue took a sip and said, "This is excellent."

Carol started for the kitchen and said, "Yes it is a German wine, Liebfraumilch I believe it is called. Phil never cared for wine, but it has become Phyllis's favorite. There are several more bottles in the refrigerator. Let me go get a bottle."

Sue stopped Carol in her tracks with, "Don't bother with anything for Chrissie. She isn't thirsty right now!"

Chrissie waved his hand as if to say yea, she's right.

"Excuse me, I believe I hear, Phyllis' car now. We can all sit down and talk this thing through."

"Well if that is what you want, but I had hoped to take everyone out to dinner. I've made dinner reservations for four at the new club on State Avenue."

At that moment Phyllis walked through the open door, totally distracted his head down as he was busily texting on his phone. He glanced into the room and only acknowledged his guests with a mere nod. Without a word he headed straight to the bedroom. The rhythmic clicking of his heels on the hardwood floor resonated through the room, and was ended by the gentle closing of the door.

Carol took a large gulp from her glass and apologized for the cool reception and began to weep. "Well at least he didn't slam the door this time. I am so sorry; he has become such a curmudgeon and a total hermit. He goes to work and spends his nights pouting in our bedroom."

A concerned Sue reached for Carol's hands and said, "It's alright, we can make it another night."

"No, please I would love to go out tonight, I am going stir crazy. Aside from work I haven't been out of the house since that fateful day."

Chrissie set his purse on the couch and stood up and walked toward the closed bedroom door. Over his shoulder, he said, "As a lawyer I have always had a gift for oral persuasion; let me give it a try."

Carol shrugged her shoulders in consent. She and Sue sat in the living room, and drank wine and waited the outcome of the bedroom summit. They waited, 10, 20, 30, minutes and still nothing. Just as Carol was about to go find out what was going on, the bedroom door opened and the two 'ladies' walked into the room shoulder to shoulder. Both Carol and Sue did a double take as their husbands were holding hands. Phyllis had changed outfits and was now dressed in a pink scarf-type blouse and subtle pink and gray plaid tulip skirt, his outfit was completed with white three inch open toe wedge sandals. Without making eye contact, Chrissie walked to his purse and took out his lipstick and compact and proceeded to repair his lips.

Phyllis was two steps behind and said, "Carol I can't possibly go out looking like this. Have you seen my lip-gloss? Mine seems to have worn off." At which point Phyllis and Chrissie glanced at each other and giggled in unison.

Sue leaned into Carol and whispered, "What the hell happened in there?"

"I have no idea, I am not sure I want to know. Let's get out of here before they change their minds."

Sue glanced at her watch and walked to the front door with a "Come on ladies, it's time to go, let's party."

Phyllis walked over to Chrissie, took his hand and led him to the front door.

Carol trailed as she locked the door. As she turned to join the group she was shocked to see Chrissie and Phyllis walking side by side with Chrissie's hand resting on her husband's right buttocks.

Sue drove with Carol joining her in the front seat. Phyllis and Chrissie slipped into the backseat and snuggled together. The drive to the restaurant was uneventful except for an occasional tittering chuckle from the rear. At one point Carol turned to investigate the commotion and caught a glimpse of Chrissie with his hand on Phyllis's happy area. Catching Carol's eye, Chrissie gave her a dramatic theatrical wink and calmly moved his hand back to his own lap.

The restaurant lobby was crowded with guests milling around waiting for a table. Sue confidently bullied her way through the throng to the receptionist's stand and announced their arrival. As the hostess checked her reservation list, Sue subtly slipped her a twenty dollar bill. Amid a slight murmur of complaints, the foursome was seated almost immediately. The four were shown to a table on the patio overlooking a beautiful well lit Japanese garden. The ladies sat in silence mesmerized by the relaxing nature of the four tiered terracotta water fall that emptied into a fish pond full of coy. It seemed time passed in a flash, as a handsome muscular young man seemed to materialize out of nowhere near their table. All eyes turn to this Adonis as he said in a deep resonating voice, "Hello ladies let me welcome you. I am Peter. I will be your server tonight."

Then in a flirtatious manner, he added, "If there is anything you don't see on the menu that you like, just ask for it."

Sue ordered a bottle of chardonnay and an appetizer of sliced cheeses for the table. Carol and Phyllis each ordered the halibut special, Sue ordered a petite steak, medium well and told the waiter Chrissie would only be having a green salad with the dressing on the side, commenting, "She's on a very strict diet. Isn't that right Chrissie?"

Chrissie replied, "Yes ma'am." Then he quietly murmured to his table mates, "My protein intake is monitored very closely."

With a knowing smile Chrissie reached out and laid his hand on Phyllis's hand and gave it a slight squeeze. With a wink at Phyllis he continued with, "However, I do cheat on that occasionally. Man does not live by bread alone. He occasionally needs a little meat."

As the waiter left, Phyllis shocked everyone with the offhanded comment. "Girls, get a look at those buns of steel. He could crush a walnut with that ass."

Carol, Sue and Chrissie about got whiplash whirling the heads to the direction Phyllis was looking. Then everyone looked at Phyllis who was grinning like a Cheshire cat and responded, "What? I was just making an observation."

This produced spontaneous laughter from all four, which was loud enough to attract the attention of several adjoining tables. Regaining their composure, the ladies quieted down and waited for the main course to be served. In low conspiratorial tones, they passed the time by taking turns rating the asses of the various waiters that fluttered around the room. In a unanimous decision Peter's was rated 'best of show.' During a lull in the game, Sue said, "Carol, Chrissie has something important to ask you. Go on dear, now is as good a time as any."

Chrissie took a deep breath and stared at the napkin in his lap with his scarlet painted lips trembling, and said, "Carol as of last month Phyllis is my psychologist and has given me permission to officially begin my transition. I feel terrible about the trouble I have caused the two of you. The question I want to ask is: would you consider doing my cosmetic surgery?"

"Of course I will, when the time is right." Carol put her hand on Chrissie's jaw and turned it to get a better perspective. She said, "You have great bone structure and a lot of potential to be pretty. Exactly what kind of look are you going for?"

Chrissie broke into get sobs and tears drifted down his cheeks.

Chrissie used his napkin to dry his eyes and accidently smeared his mascara so that he looked like he had a raccoon mask on. Everyone at the table refrained from commenting realizing it wouldn't help. Between blubbers Chrissie managed, "I have no right to request your help; but please I just want so much to look like Phyllis." He brought his hands up to his small breasts and went on, "I am so jealous of her figure. Could you do the same for me? I can't wait to have a chest like hers that has been my life's dream."

Carol was dismayed, "Chrissie you need to really think about that decision. What I did to Phil was a terrible mistake. If you want to live your life as a normal woman you really should have something more proportional to your body frame."

Sue reached over and patted her husband's hand, "Now, now sweetie, don't cry; it will be alright."

Then a slightly sarcastic tone added, "We will find some way to get you the great big boobies you want."

She lowered her voice so that it only carried to Phyllis and said, "I need to speak to Carol. Could you take Chrissie to the powder room and help repair her face?"

The two headed for the powder room again holding hands. As the two got out of earshot Sue spoke, "She is so emotional now that the hormones have kicked in."

"Sue, if your husband has just begun seeing Phyllis they should not have that much of an impact already."

"I know, I probably shouldn't tell you this but I have been feeding him my birth control pills for weeks and weeks and I made a copy of the hormone script Chris brought home and had it filled at two different locations. I have been feeding him a double dose every day."

"You idiot, do you know what could happen? He must be monitored very closely. The side effects can be deadly."

"I know that is why I am telling you. I still love him and don't want anything bad to happen. I am just impatient for the process to show results."

Carol leaned toward her friend and asked, "How far does he intend to take this?"

"Right now he only wants to appear more feminine. But, what he wants is irrelevant. I intend for him to go all the way. Mark my words, when the time comes he will be begging for a pussy."

An incredulous Carol asked, "You want him to be a complete woman?"

"As far as I know, he doesn't like men, so making him into a woman is sweet justice."

Carol thought about what she had seen tonight and questioned her friend's observations and began to wonder about her own husband.

"As a woman, he'll be a lesbian and will have to stay with me forever.

His living 24/7 as a woman started today. Chrissie had her first day at work in skirts. That is one of the reasons she is so emotional. She was read as a man and had several verbal confrontations, one at work with a co-worker and one with a total stranger during the train ride home."

@ @ @ @

Meanwhile in the confines of the little girls' room the two former men had a good laugh. Phil asked his friend Chris, "Do you think they are buying our little act?"

"I think so, how far do you want to take this charade Chris?"

Chris contemplated the question and responded, "I don't normally make out on a first date, but this is special. How about a passionate goodbye kiss when we drop you off at home?"

Phil gave it a moment's thought then nodded his consent.

Chirs asked, "I have a personal question, can I ask it?"

"Of course Chris go right ahead."

"You know Sue and I don't have any children, if this goes where Sue intends we never will. You can't have children. Does it bother you? I have been giving the subject a lot of thought. Someday I might want to be a father." Then, smiling, he added, "Or if I am really lucky even a mother. Just the thought of some little rug rat calling me mommy gives me goose bumps."

Phil looked his friend right in the eye. "Can you keep a secret?"

"Let me see, I kept my cross dressing a secret for 20 years, so I can safely say yes."

"Chris, I may already be a daddy."

"What, you cheated on Carol!"

"I would never do that, I love her too much. When I was in college I needed extra cash, so I frequently sold my sperm to the local fertility clinic. As far as I know there may be dozens of little Phil's running around. If Carol and I ever decide to have children we can always have a turkey baster baby.

"What I am suggesting to you is while you can, save a few of your swimmers in case things change for you in the future. I still have the name and address of the fertility clinic; I will email them to you. I am sure they will put them in deepfreeze for you.

@ @ @ @

Carol tried to digest Sue's statements when Sue cheerfully announced, "Here come the girls now, forget this little incident and try and enjoy the rest of our evening. Maybe we could even pick up a couple of guys."

Carol gasped, "Are you crazy? As a married woman, I will never cheat on my husband; it is out of the question!"

"Oh, Carol, don't be an old stick in the mud. Sixty five percent of wives cheat on their husbands at one time or another, so don't go getting all goody two shoes on me. I have already started bringing men home to get Chrissie accustomed to the idea. I haven't taken any to my bed yet, but that will come."

Carol gave the idea of fucking a real man a passing thought. She was a young woman with needs, but the thought of cheating on her husband was too disturbing to contemplate. She took her marriage vows seriously and would never violate them. This brief interlude reminded Carol of the intimacy in her marriage that she had cost herself. It played on her mind and thoroughly depressed her.

Sue anxiously awaited her response. Carol turned to her friend and said, "I will never have sex again, if I can't have it with Phil."

Sue mocked her friend's response and said, "Honey, unless I'm going blind I don't see any Phil, only a bombshell of a she male called Phyllis."

"Sue, don't talk like that, Phil is still there. I admit the chassis has been radically altered; but I refuse to accept that I have destroyed the essence that once was my husband — he's still in there."

The rest of the evening was a disappointment. No one felt in the party mood.

Sue dropped off Carol and Phyllis at their home. Carol was dismayed, when her husband, hugged Sue goodnight and gave Chrissie a lingering obviously passionate kiss on the lips. While they were lip locked, Chrissie's hand again almost nonchalantly slid down until it ended up firmly cupping Phyllis's buttock cheeks.

Carol chased Phyllis down and wanted to talk about the evening but Phyllis refused to discuss the issue and went directly to bed.

@ @ @ @

It was exactly a week later; Carol had a terrible premonition that something bad was about to happen and spent the entire afternoon calling Phyllis on her cell phone. Every call went immediately to voicemail. Her office was no help, all the receptionist would say was the doctor was out of the office. About sundown, a chipper Phyllis bounced into the house only to find a very distressed Carol sitting on the couch working on her second glass of Scotch.

"Honey, where have you been all afternoon? I have been so worried about you; I have been calling and calling. Please tell me about your day."

Phyllis was positively bubbly, "Carol, please fix me a drink, and I will tell you everything, it has been a magical day. This morning I had a new pharmaceutical representative call on me. Bob was his name, an extremely handsome man with eyes that you could get lost in. After his very professional and persuasive pitch, he invited me out to lunch."

A very concerned Carol sipped her drink, leaned forward, and listened intently.

In a very nonchalant manner Phyllis continued. "I initially turned him down."

Carol who had been holding her breath exhaled and said, "Initially?"

"Yes dear, he was so persistent and just oozed charm. You have been pestering me about getting out more so I accepted his invitation just to make you happy. He drove us to the restaurant that is attached to his hotel."

"His hotel?" questioned Carol.

"Yes, I know that may seem a tad unprofessional. But Bob explained they have the best lunch buffet in the area. We had a delightful meal."

Then giggling said, "I am afraid we both consumed way too much wine. I knew I had too much to drink to go back to work. So I took the afternoon off and Bob talked me into spending it with him."

Phyllis looked down and rubbed a stain on her blouse then questioned, "How do you get red wine stains out?"

A very anxious Carol walked over to her husband and closely examined her blouse. Using her fingernail Carol scrapped off a crusted blob of material. "It would appear you have more than wine on your outfit. Care to explain?"

Phyllis shrugged her shoulders and coolly responded. "Oh that, I am afraid I have been a very, very bad girl. After lunch Bob, brazenly invited me back to his hotel room for dessert. I guess some dribbled there."

"You went to his room?"

"Well not exactly, it was more like a luxury suite."

Carol felt lightheaded and went and sat back on the couch. "Damn it, Phil, tell me what happened!"

"Well we got to his suite, and I followed him into his bed chamber; and lo and behold Bob had lied, there was no dessert. I just pouted as I had my heart set on something sweet and started to leave, Bob stopped me when he offered to let me a suck on his mansicle."

Carol's lower lip began to quiver as she sat and stared in amazement.

Phil licked his lips and said, "I don't understand why before all this happened, you were reluctant to give me head. I find the texture and taste to be indescribable, it was simply smoothielicious. I have been told by my clients that every man's discharge is different. I can't wait to carry out my own taste test."

Phyllis proudly continued, "Bob's virility was incredible. After I had my creamy dessert he was hard again in just a few minutes. He helped me up from my knees and lovingly laid me on the bed on my back. It was fortuitous I wore stockings and not pantyhose today. Before I knew what to make of it, he had my legs over his shoulders. He pushed aside my panties and licked my man pussy, until I thought I would pass out from the pleasure. Then he had my high heels pointed to the ceiling as he rammed that magnificent pole into me. It was pure bliss, I knew I had died and gone to heaven. Oh Carol, if a pussy feels half that good. I am going to reconsider my decision on a sex change."

Then with a silly manner Phyllis jokingly said, "What do you think, should I turn my dick into a slip and slide?"

A hysterical Carol began to sob uncontrollably and wailed, "Oh how could you do this...to me?"

Phil stood callously and watched his wife's distress. He walked over to the sofa and placed his drink down on the end table. With one finger he scooped up a tear running down Carol's face and said in a sarcastic tone, "Whoops, I'm sorry I upset you. You did ask about my day."

Grabbing his breasts, and lifting them up for emphasis he said, "You did this to me and you have the audacity to cry. Remember dear, you created this package, don't get upset just because someone found it attractive and wanted to play with it!"

Phil went and poured himself a refill, stopping only when the golden liquid threatened to overflow the glass. He stood over an obviously upset Carol, and twisted the proverbial knife. "Honey, I need to ask you a favor."

With tears dripping down her cheeks Carol looked up and replied, "What is it?"

"I was wondering if you could find someplace else to sleep. I've invited Bob over to spend the night. He knows I'm married; but having you here would be a tad bit awkward. I'm sure you can understand."

Flabbergasted at his audacity Carol wailed, "No problem, you bitch, I'll go to my mother's."

Phil turned and said, "Fine; but before you leave would you mind tiding up the place a little, it really needs a good dusting. I want to take a bath and get ready for my date."

Carol ran out of the room sobbing hysterically. Phil stood in the doorway and yelled "Won't you at least vacuum the carpet before you go? It will only take a minute."

In self-satisfaction he watched as she climbed into her car and slammed the door. Phil coldheartedly waved good-bye and closed the front door. Heading to his bedroom he thought, 'I have the whole night all to myself. After spending the entire day in that boring seminar I am looking forward to a hot bath and a good book. I probably was a little rough on her, but she deserved it. Payback is a bitch; it must really suck to be her right now. Maybe tomorrow I'll tell her there is no Bob; that I made the whole thing up. Then again, maybe I won't.'

@ @ @ @

Carol had only driven a block or two before she had to pull the car over to the curb. The tears flooding her eyes and streaming down her cheeks made it unwise for her to attempt to drive. She sniffed and collapsed into wracking sobs that seemed to go on and on. How could the man she loved treat her like this? Even as she had the thought, she reminded herself of what she had done to him. Why should she be surprised that he turned away from her for someone else? She had completely destroyed him as a person. Even now, Carol couldn't look at herself in the mirror and honestly say that all the changes she had wrought upon Phil had been because she thought that he wanted them and not because she felt angry and betrayed by him.

Eventually, she cried herself out. The tissues she carried in her purse had been used and were now sodden clumps. She used a couple of the less mangled handfuls to clean up most of the mascara that had dissolved and streaked down her face. She still looked a horror, but she would be presentable enough to face her parents. She was glad that it was just a 30 minute drive. If other drivers got a good look at her, they would wonder if she had been victim of a mugging. She certainly did not want to risk being pulled over by a police officer either. The story to explain her appearance would be too incredible and she was too mentally exhausted to make one up.

Pulling into the driveway at her parents' house, she could see that someone was home as lights were on inside. She went to the front door and knocked tentatively, but loud enough to be heard. Her mother cautiously opened the door and was appalled at her daughter's appearance.

"Come in here honey and tell me what that bastard did now."

"Mother, please, your language."

"You are right dear, I am sorry, what did that 'bitch' do to you now?

As Carol walked in and she saw her father in his favorite recliner, dressed to relax for the evening in jeans and a polo shirt. He took one look at his daughter, without saying a word he stared straight ahead at the magazine in his lap.

"Don't mind your father. He is in one of his moods. He has never gotten over the shock of what you did to your ungrateful husband."

Liz held Carols hands and lectured as if imitating her husband, "Honey, as women we generate our self-esteem from our families. Compared to men who draw theirs from what's hanging between their legs. There is nothing worse you can do, then steal a man's masculine essence from him."

"Mom, if I could undo what I did, I would. I have apologized every way I know how. I am out of ideas, I need your help."

Her father who had been eavesdropping on their conversation gave a "Harrumph." Stood up, threw down his copy of Psychology Today and went into his den and locked the door, mumbling under his breath, "It's a little late for that."

Carol related her story of woe.

Liz was totally supportive and told Carol to sleep in her old room. First thing in the morning she would drive Carol to a divorce lawyer. This prompted another round of tears. Liz got up to fix each of them a strong drink. Carol took the opportunity to go to her father's door and tapped lightly, "Daddy? Please, can we talk?"

The door opened to reveal her father. Realizing how haggard his daughter really was, he said, "Carol! Are you all right?" He was stooping over in front of her, looking into her eyes to somehow determine what might have happened to make his only daughter look like she had survived a car wreck. As his wife came into the room, she handed Carol her drink. Carol downed the strong drink in one gulp. Then fell forward into her father's arms and wrapped herself around him. The tears started again.

"Oh, Daddy, I have ruined everything!" It came out as more like a moan than anything else.

Her mother stood next to her and wrapped her arms around Carol. The three of them clung to each other for several minutes while Carol continued to sob.

Her dad pulled back to see her again and asked, "What happened? Did you and Phil, sorry this will take some getting used to; you and Phyllis have a fight? Did he hit you?" Michael knew the whole story about what had been done to his son-in-law. While he would agree that he had plenty of justification in hitting his wife, Michael would not stand by if Phil had begun to be physically abusive to his daughter.

Once Carol had regained control of herself, she went on, "No, Daddy. Phil didn't hit me. He would never lay a hand on me in anger. He's too gentle a person for that, no matter how mad he got."

Liz rubbed her daughter's back and said, "Why don't I make us some tea? We'll all go out to the kitchen and you can tell your father what happened."

Liz led the way for the three of them to take places at the kitchen table while she occupied herself with boiling water and gathering cups and the ingredients for tea. In short order, they were stirring their cups of tea, inhaling the sharp aroma of the steeping liquid and watching the wisps of steam emanating from the cups.

Liz and Michael looked expectantly at their daughter as she sipped from her cup. Carol kept her eyes focused on the tea in her cup as she searched for the words to describe her pain and shame. How does one explain that your marriage might be over because the stupid actions you had performed had turned your wonderful husband into an over endowed slut that didn't love you anymore?

Finally, the pressure of her parent's steady gaze became more than she could take and she said, "I know I have lost Phil, now I think that I've also lost Phyllis. I want to die."

The silence in the room was deafening. Then Mike took Carol's hands in his and said, "Oh honey. I'm so sorry. What happened?"

Michael's expression was sympathetic. As Carol related the events of the prior few weeks, the look on his face morphed several times. He seemed to go through the entire gambit of human emotions; shock, anger, bitterness, sympathy, ending in one of love and empathy. Mike contemplated the soap opera events his family was living through. First and foremost was Phil's pain as Carol reminded them of everything Phil had been put through in the past months, followed by understanding as Carol had tried to atone for her atrocious actions and been rebuffed, and then happiness when she related the one dinner outing that Phyllis had agreed to. He ended up looking sad and incredulous when Carol told of Phyllis' renewed distance after the dinner and the latest events and his apparent dalliance with a man.

Mike spoke, "Honey, in my 30 years of clinical psychology, I have never heard of plastic surgery causing someone to change their sexual orientation. So initially, I would doubt the story of Phil's sexual exploits with another man. Of course, what you did to Phil probably did enormous psychological damage. Who knows what you have done to that poor man."

"Michael! How dare you try and justify what that foul monster did to our daughter!"

"Shut the fuck up Liz! If he is a monster, remember it's our daughter who played Dr. Frankenstein and created him...her, whatever." Michael knew that he sounded overly harsh to his wife, but his intended audience was his daughter. If his wife could accept his explanation later, then this might be the only time he raised his voice to his wife, even after all these years together.

Liz sat there gob smacked, Michael had never before spoken to her like that.

"Carol, my advice to you is to go back home and, on your hand and knees, beg your husband's forgiveness. If he has sought solace in the arms of another person, you must realize you drove him there. Go home and be as loving and affectionate a wife as you can, maybe there is a chance for your marriage."

"Daddy, you don't understand. Why are you taking his side? I have tried all that lovey-dovey crap. Phil was always the romantic mushy one, with all his psychology stuff. I have been the stoic scientist. I've tried to treat him like a lady. I even brought him flowers and candy, none of it worked. Phil refuses to let me back in his heart. He is the one being unreasonable; he has to shoulder part of the responsibility for this calamity. After all if he had been open and honest with me, none of this would have happened. A tragic thing has happened to him. Boohoo, he should just get over it already. I see patients all the time with terrible deformities, I help them and they get on with their lives. That is all I am asking Phil to do. He looks like a woman and not just any woman a gorgeous one, thanks to me. Hell, there are thousands of females who would kill to look as good as Phyllis does. Why can’t he just get over it?"

"Carol you are my daughter and a gifted surgeon who graduated number one from med school. How can you be dumber than a stick of butter about this? He is your husband, not a lady. You have always been reluctant to except responsibility for your mistakes. Besides, miss smarty pants, Phil could not tell you about the clothes and the trunk — that would fall under doctor — patient confidentiality."

"But Daddy, look at it from my perspective. He's my husband, how do I treat him as the man of the house? He refuses to act the part and when I look at him, all I see is a stereotypical caricature of a high priced call girl."

Michael sighed, "This is not a small thing you have done. You have potentially destroyed the best marriage I have seen in over 30 years of practice. Thousands of couples have come through my office for counseling over the years. Your marriage to Phil was the strongest and most loving I had ever seen."

"Daddy, did you say 'was'?"

"Yes dear, you are the only one who can resurrect the love that existed between the two of you."

@ @ @ @

Carol took another strong drink from her mother and retired to her old bedroom. After removing the zoo of stuffed animals from her childhood bed, Carol laid in the dark and sipped her Scotch. For the first time she did some serious soul searching. Somewhere between the empty whiskey glass and sunrise, Carol came to the realization she still loved Phil despite his physical appearance. He would probably never forgive her; but just maybe there was an ember of his old love still glowing in his soul.

Phil was never movie star attractive. It wasn't his looks that initially attracted her to him. She decided she was going to do anything she could to keep her marriage together. She was going to woo him and make him fall in love with her again. He might look like hooker, but he still had the mind and soul of a man. She knew how to attract men. She had been doing that since she reached puberty.

The next morning, she took a really long shower and ate one of her mother’s fabulous breakfasts of eggs and pancakes. Helping her mother with the dishes, Carl called work and took the day off. She then found a local spa that had an opening, the first stages of her plan called for her to get beautified — after all men are really visual animals. Carol got the works, and came out looking like a million bucks — about what the bill was, so it was a fair trade. Carol's next stop was at the local boutique where she bought a gorgeous little black dress. Then she hopped next door to Victoria's Favorites for the slinkiest lingerie she could find. She made one more stop at the grocery store, thinking back on the old adage 'The way to a man's heart in through his stomach.' The rest of the afternoon was spent in the kitchen preparing Phil's favorite meal. She had changed into her seduction outfit and had set the table in candles and flowers and was laying the dishes on the table as she heard Phil's car pull into the driveway.

The door flew open and Phyllis stormed in, tossed his purse across the room and stopped dead in his tracks as he inhaled the wonderful aromas filling the room.

Glancing up he spotted Carol filling the wine glasses and dressed to the nines in her LBD. He simply said, "What the fuck are you doing here?" The angry words sounded out of place coming from an attractive woman in her high, girly voice.

Carol ignored the vindictive words and smiled lovingly at her husband and said in a sweet and loving tone, "I live here. Where else would I be?"

"I thought that you went to your mother's," Phyllis said flatly. He looked at Carol almost as if she were intruding upon his personal space.

Carol looked down for a moment, breaking the stare-down with her husband. The last thing she wanted to do was begin a contest for dominance with him. Tonight was all about him and anything he wanted.

"I did," she answered quietly. "But I realized that I love you more than anything and I don't want to lose you."

She went to her pretty husband and led him over to the sofa where she sat beside him. She took his unresisting hand in both of hers and looked deeply into his eyes.

The thought of each atrocity she had wrought upon him sent a chill down her spine. For one of her regular patients, her actions would have been a work of art. But in Phil's case, she was only just coming to understand how awful it must seem to him. Tears sprang out unbidden as she tried to make him understand how sorry she truly was. "I recognize that I treated you abominably and mutilated your body. I know you can never forget what I did; but could you possibly find it in your heart to forgive me? I would like a chance to win your love back."

For his part, Phil sat unmoving, looking at his wife. Her words came to him and he understood what she was said, but they barely made any impact upon the darkness that he felt inside. He had been blissful in his marriage as Carol's husband and he had thought that she was happy as well. And now he found himself stuck in this freakish body, one with no nuts, a squeaky prepubescent voice and humongous breasts. To add to the humiliation, he was still sexually attracted to his wife, but could no longer have sex as a man. He saw himself as just an object of beauty like a painting hanging in a museum only attractive to others but not himself. To preserve his sanity, he had learned to present a strong front to the world though; of a happy, adjusted woman; an act that was proving financially rewarding because of his transgender clientele.

Phil answered his wife's heartfelt plea with, "Carol I'm not buying what you're selling. How would you feel if you woke up tomorrow and found you had been kidnapped, your breasts removed and a dick sticking out of you pussy?"

"That's not the same thing. Your scenario speaks more of hate and revenge. What I did to you was done out of love. It was simply a misunderstanding. It's what I thought you wanted. I was trying to give you the gift of femininity.

Phil sarcastically replied, "Yea a present with a no return, no exchange policy."

"Come on Phil, give it a chance, half the world's population didn't ask for it any more than you did; but they love being female, you may come to enjoy it after a while."

Phil thought on that for a minute. He hated to admit she may have a point. But wasn't ready to concede the argument so he went on the attack. "If you neglect a plant and fail to water/nourish it. It will die. Do you really believe that now drowning the roots will make it bloom again?

Carol replied, "Just because something has gone dormant, doesn't mean it's dead. Please give me this one night to show you how much I love you. I'll do anything you want to revive your roots." Not waiting for an answer Carol pulled Phil out to the dining room. He sat at his customary place at the head of the table and waited quietly as Carol brought out the meal that she had worked on all afternoon. She ladled a generous helping of the beef bourguignon that Phil had always liked. Phil politely complimented her on the quality of her cooking and responded to Carol's questions about how his day had gone in single syllables. Phil made no effort to engage Carol in conversation and it was obvious to her that she was doing all of the work. Carol resolved that she was not going to accept defeat so easily and persevered.

As far as Carol was concerned, the meal was over all too quickly and Phil excused himself, retrieved his purse from the living room floor and headed off to bed. Carol watched him walk down the hall to the master bedroom with an aggregated sway to his medically enhanced posterior. The steady click of his high heels seemed to echo well after Phil had closed the door behind him. Carol was glad to have not heard the door being locked. Phil had actually done that to her a couple of times, on those nights she slept alone in the guest bedroom.

It took her some time to clean up after dinner and then she braced herself for her second assault upon her husband's stoic demeanor. She closed up the house for the night and made her way down to the bedroom. Opening the door, she saw that Phil had left one of the bedside lamps turned down low for her. This act of thoughtfulness gave her some hope that 'Phyllis' was not totally indifferent to her. She performed her nighttime ritual in the bathroom and returned to the bedroom wearing her new a floor-length gown.

The idea tonight was not to ravish Phyllis or call attention to the fact he can no longer perform as a man during sex. Rather it was to just let her girly husband know that Carol still loved him. She was here to hold him and give him loving contact with another person. As a surgeon, her bedside manner had often been criticized by her peers and nurses. She was admittedly lacking in some of the inter-personal skills that her colleagues, like her father and Phyllis, had in spades. But she knew enough that everyone needed contact with someone. She intended to be that one for Phyllis, not some travelling salesman.

She turned off the lamp and crawled between the bed covers. Phyllis had recently taken to sleeping on the far side of the mattress when they slept together, but Carol was not going to accept that tonight. She scooted across the bed to spoon herself up against Phyllis' back. Upon Carol's first touch Phyllis became rigid. Carol wrapped herself around her husband, keeping her hands away from anything Phyllis might consider an erogenous zone, and just hugged him to her. She pulled Phyllis into the crook of her arm so the Phyllis's head lay upon her breast.

They lay that way for several minutes until Phyllis' rigidity seemed to melt away and he relaxed into Carol's arms. Phyllis laid there listing to the heartbeat of his wife. It was not too long after that Phyllis was wracked with sobs and Carol could not help but weep with him for everything that he had lost.

Morning came all too soon; Carol crawled out of bed first. Her morning rituals required considerably more effort than Phyllis, a fact that did not go unnoticed by either party. As Carol left to fix coffee, Phil adjourned to the bathroom to void his bowels and wash his face and hands. A quick brush through his curly hair, some lip-gloss and Phyllis was ready to get dressed. Before leaving the room Phyllis went back and picked up Carol's favorite perfume 'White Diamonds' and added just a hint to each wrist. After his cathartic cry last night he wanted something to lift his spirits and for some reason, perfume seem just the thing this morning.

He put on the new bra he had picked up yesterday. He could not go anywhere without a good support brassiere. His bad back had been acting up with the bowling balls attacked to his chest. So he found he was only comfortable with a strong girdle or on special occasions a corset around his waist. For some unknown reason while browsing the lingerie department at Nordstrom this pink bra trimmed in lace caught his fancy. Seeing it on display it just screamed at him. He had to have it. He paid the outrageous price without blinking. Buying sexy intimate apparel had become his current obsession. Wearing them detracted from his manly self-image, but he didn't care, they made him feel good.

After donning his underwear, he selected a form fitting eggshell white skirt suit. It had become his favorite. With its suit coat top, it portrayed a very profession appearance yet still emphasized his ample bosom; the skirt was too short for his liking, but the overall effect was pleasing and made Phyllis feel like he was floating on air.

Carol had coffee and sweet rolls laid out on their small breakfast nook. The sun shone through the window illuminating the table. Carol prayed it was the dawning of a new phase of their marriage.

Carol looked up at her husband and couldn't restrain herself she let out a low wolf whistle, which immediately embarrassed both of them.

Without comment, Phyllis pulled his chair further away from the table to make room for his female endowments.

He sat he started to say, "Carol, about the other night."

Carol reached across the table and put her fingers on his lips. "Honey, please don't!"

Pushing her hand aside he went on, "Carol, I need to explain and apologize."

"No, you don't! I am the one that screwed up. If you felt the need for physical contact with another man, it was my doing; I am the one that drove you there. I am the one who should be apologizing. Can we just put that behind us and move on. Please!"

Phyllis tried to continue the argument. But Carol stuffed a large piece of the sticky bun in his mouth which prevented any further communication.

Carol glanced at her watch and quickly finished her coffee, stood and put her cup in the sink. "Leave the dishes, I will get them tonight."

She bent over and kissed Phyllis on the cheek. Grabbed her purse and headed out the door.

Phil finished his breakfast chewing slowly, trying to digest the emotional dynamics going on. Eventually, he headed for the door after a quick stop in the bathroom to check his appearance. He added a little hair spray, a touch more perfume and he was out the door. He had a full slate of patients scheduled for today.

@ @ @ @

Wedged in his trusty compact car, he turned onto the expressway and headed to the office humming a cheery little tune.

Ten minutes into the drive he was on the expressway, disaster struck. A loud bang signaled a flat tire. Phil pulled off onto the shoulder and swore under his breath. Watching for a safe break in traffic, he exited the driver's side and cautiously made his way to the rear of the car. Opening the small trunk Phil stood and scratched his head. In his life he had changed dozens of tires, but never had he tried it with long nails, high heels and wearing a skirt.

Phil bent over and was about to lift the spare out when behind him came a screeching of tires and a shower of gravel. Phil looked over his shoulder and around his blond locks to see a dusty old pickup truck sliding to a stop a few feet behind him.

Out of the truck leaped a muscular young man in his late twenties wearing levies, a tight white t-shirt, work boots and a cowboy hat.

"Howdy miss, may I be of some assistance?"

"No, that's alright, I can handle this."

"Begging your pardon missy, but you's way too pretty a filly to be doing that. My mommy would tan my hide if I let a lady do that. Now please stand over there where it's safe and I'll have this taken care, in two shakes of a lamb's tail.

Phil stood back in thankful appreciation as the muscular young Marlin Brando look alike went about his business. As he was securing the hubcap, Phil retrieved his purse and took out $20 to tip him.

The young man walked over to where Phil stood, smiled, and said, "All done little lady, but you should get that flat fixed as soon as possible; your spare ain't in any great shakes."

Phil stuck his hand out to shake hands; the cowboy rubbed the dirt and grease onto his jeans and declined to shake hands. Phil stuck out the twenty dollar bill to give him. "Please take this as a token of my gratitude."

He shook his head and said, "Lady I can't take your money. I's just being neighborly."

"But I must pay you back for your kindness."

He tipped his hat and said, "Miss, just helping someone as pretty as you is payment enough. You have a good day. Now get into your vehicle, I will step out in the lane of traffic to make sure you get away safely."

Phil pulled out, lowered his window and waved goodbye to the Good Samaritan.

It wasn't more than five minutes later that Phil realized what an incredible thing had just happened. This was San Francisco, people would never stop to help Phil, but Phyllis had just been treated like a royal princess and nothing was asked in return. He replayed the entire incident in his head and was astonished when he realized the young man had never broken eye contact during their encounter. He had just met a true gentlemen and it made Phil feel a funny fluttering in his tummy.

Phil pulled into his designated parking space, struggled to extricate himself because the car next to him took the parking lines as suggestions. It was bad enough getting in and out of cars with a bit of decorum and gracefulness when the car door opened fully, but when it opened only a few inches it was impossible. He was late and took a look around the parking lot and noticed all the other parking spaces were occupied. So he got on his hand and knees and crawled across the front seat. He pushed open the passenger door. With his ballast being top heavy Phil tumbled out the car and landed on the asphalt. Between the seatbelt and his purse strap, he was unable to free his arms to brace the fall. Unluckily his new air bags absorbed the shock; his sensitive nipples were particularly affected. A very unhappy Phil stood, bent over to retrieve his purse, clutched it tightly and brushed himself off. Swearing, "Damn now I will have to take my suit back to the dry cleaners." He took a hankie from his purse; in a very unladylike gesture spit on it and removed a smug of dirt from his dress. He headed toward the front door, and passed some jerk that stared lasciviously at his chest. It was poetic justice that he actually missed the curb and fell on his face because he was eyeballing Phil's jiggling breasts, rather than watching where he was walking.

Phyllis smiled and thought, 'Serves him right, all men are pigs. I can't help it if my massive attributes have a mind of their own when I walk. That doesn't give him the right to ogle me.'

Phyllis squared his shoulders and strolled as gracefully as he could to the entrance. As he approached the main door a distinguished older gentleman exited. The man with a twinkle in his eye stepped aside and gallantly held the door open for Phyllis to pass through and softly said "Morning ma'am." Phyllis did the hair-flip thing and returned the favor with a broad smile and simply said, "Thanks." From the expression on the man's face you would have thought the old geezer had just won the lottery as bowed his head in recognition.

Phyllis proceeded to his office with a bounce to his step thinking, 'Even in a pile of manure you can occasionally find a gem.'

@ @ @ @

The rest of the morning was routine. Three patients he referred to general practitioners, one gentleman with simple depression he treated with the prescription of taking a week off, packing his bags and hopping a plane to a tropical island somewhere. The pill pushers would disagree, but Phil always wanted to try non-pharmaceutical cures first.

One interesting case came in right before lunch, a young wife — in her mid twenties dragged her husband into the office. After an extensive search on the internet she had diagnosed him as having gender dysphoria problems because he was only able to get hard when he was wearing her underwear.

After a detailed interview, Dr. Phil simply recommended a good sex therapist for the both of them.

At lunch, Phil went to the cafeteria, where he ordered only a salad and unsweetened ice tea. He'd been eating healthier lately because he enjoyed the way it made him feel. He took his tray and scanned the lunchroom for somewhere to sit. His old male colleagues had shunned him like a leper, but a number of the women, mainly the nurses and receptionists welcomed his company. They tried to draw him into their conversations which were usually about senseless woman's fashions; Phil didn't have much to contribute so he sat in rapt amazement at their perspective on the world, so different from the testosterone driven opinions he was accustomed to. Phil thoroughly enjoyed their companionship he was readily accepted as one of them, just because he wore dresses and makeup.

After lunch, Phil had a case that consumed his entire afternoon. A young chap came in consumed with self-loathing. He related his story, "My girlfriend tricked me into going to a costume party, with both of us dressed as hookers. I stubbornly resisted until she threatened to cut off sex unless I agreed. She went all out, breast forms, corset, five inch heels, a long wig, even talked me into having my ears pierced, and tons of heavy makeup."

Sobbing he went on, "I reluctantly went to the party, she had to pull me out of the car, and towards the front door."

Phil sat, crossed his nylon-encased legs at the thigh a pump dangling from the tips of his manicured toes. A habit he had recently acquired and took notes on the pad resting in his lap. As a form of encouragement, he said, "Go on, I hear nothing extraordinary about what you have said. Tell me how you felt about all that."

"In simple terms, I prefer the look, touch, sound, and emotions of being a woman. I'll admit there is an erotic element to wearing a bra, nylons and waist cincher."

Phil couldn't help himself, he sighed and said, "Tell me about it."

"That's what I am doing aren't you listening?"

"Sorry I was speaking to myself. Please go on."

"You don't understand doctor, once in the party, rather than being embarrassed and hiding in the shadows, I loved every minute of it. I was chatted up by every guy at the party and most of the women. I was plied with drinks and danced every song. During one slow romantic ballad, this really macho football player guy pulled me into his body and kissed me with an open mouth. And the much to my consternation, I kissed him back."

Phil brushed an imaginary piece of lint from his suit to buy time to think. He shook his head in encouragement and furiously took notes; he was now beginning to understand why his patient was here. The guy was questioning his sexual orientation and wondering if he might be gay.

Phil inquired, "Did you enjoy it?"

Shacking with emotion the response surprised Phil, "Yes! But not in the way you are implying. There was no sexual energy in the kiss; simply a pure euphoria that my feminine illusion was so complete he accepted me as a woman. I didn't understand why; that was so important to me but at that moment it meant everything. Am I a freak doctor?"

"No, it is a natural human emotion to want to be appreciated for who you are. You felt like a desirable woman and you simply reacted accordingly."

Then the patient started to cry. Phil handed him a box of tissues he kept on his desk. He dabbed the tears from his sad green eyes as he related, "On the way home my girlfriend, whom I trusted with my life, was ecstatic. It seems she had used her cell phone to capture the entire evening. She threatened to expose me to my family and friends unless I did whatever she demanded. Of course I capitulated to her threats. The first night, with both of us still high from overindulging at the party it was heavenly. We made love for hours like two women, no penetration simply oral sex." The next morning, she woke me with the announcement I would remain dressed as a female from then on, except at work. For the next two months, excluding when I was in the office, I was required to dress completely en femme. We got into an argument one night, over something really stupid. I don't even remember what it was about. She up and left me."

Phil inquired, "Did she carry through on her threat to expose you?"

"You bet she did, the vindictive bitch emailed hundreds of pictures of me to everyone we knew. As if that wasn't bad enough she posted them all on face book."

Phil curled a strand of his long blonde hair around his finger, buying time for his feelings of Déjá  vu to ebb and eventually replied, "I see, you hated being betrayed by a woman you loved for taking your masculinity away."

"If it were that simple doctor, I wouldn't be here now. I don't care what people think of me. I have discovered a side of my personality that I like better than the old me. I have no desire to be some flamboyant drag queen. I just want to have the freedom to live my life as any other normal female. My parents are trying to force me to go back to my masculine self. He is not someone I want to be. I love the new feminine me. I like the way people treat me, better still I like the way I treat them as a woman.

"The little things have come to mean so much to me, the taste of lipstick, the smell of my perfume, the click of my high heels on the sidewalk, the way my skirt brushes against my legs. Doctor, you are a beautiful woman, you know what I mean."

Phil smiled at the compliment and said, "What can I do for you?"

"Doctor I'm depressed. I occasionally have regrets and doubts about my new life style. I have thrown out everything regarding my old life. I have no intentions to go back living as a man. Doctor I need your help to validate the fact in my soul I have always been a girl."

Phil was taken aback by this young man's sincerity; he maintained a sympathetic silence and eventually asked, "What about sex? Are you interested in a relationship with a man?"

Without a hesitation he replied, "Oh heavens no. I like everything about women. Men certainly have their place; just not in my bed. I will spend my life searching for a mate; but it will be a woman."

Phil finished recording his notes and sat in quiet contemplation. Phil had always made it a point not to get emotionally involved with his patients. But there was something different about this case. He unexpectedly found himself bonding with this poor schmuck. He had openly agreed with this patient there was a lot about presenting yourself as an attractive woman that was emotionally satisfying. To handle his depression, Phil prescribed he take a day off and treat himself to a spa day and a makeover.

With a sigh, Phil crossed his legs and listened to the lovely swishing sound of nylons rubbing together made. From a mental health point-of-view, he was going to have to ensure he was able to separate the fantasy from reality.

With that closing thought he stood checked his appearance in the mirror on his wall, suddenly it dawned on Phil he was beginning to like what he saw in the looking back at him. Phil took a minute to contemplate his matriculation to womanhood and wonder what his graduation would mean. He pushed a lock of hair behind his ear and headed out the door to the parking lot.

@ @ @ @

Walking to his car, his eyes were drawn to the yellow Pontiac Firebird Convertible, parked in the visitor's parking spot. As Phil contorted himself into his compact car, he briefly fantasized about motoring down Pacific Coast highway driving a car like that; his long blond locks flowing out behind him like a comets tail. The bumper to bumper traffic soon brought the daydream to a screeching halt.

Arriving home, Phil had to park on the street. Liz's car was parked in the driveway next to Carol's silver Toyota Camry. Not wanting to engage the witch of a mother-in-law in conversation Phil snuck in the front door. He laid his purse down on the coffee table and as quite as a church mouse fixed himself a strong drink, slipped off his heels and collapsed into his favorite recliner. Sipping his drink, Phil laid his head back and listened to the two women babbling away in the kitchen.

Suddenly Phil shot bolt upright as he overheard Liz, advise his wife, "Honey it is time you woke up and smelled the coffee, your marriage is over. Dump that loser and move on. You are still young enough to find a new man, someone that can satisfy you in the bedroom.

"My bridge partner has this brother who is a real dream boat. If Monica is to be believed he has a man package that would satisfy any woman. Give it some thought."

Carol's response was lost on Phil, as he scrambled to get to his purse and retrieve his cell phone. He tiptoed into his bedroom and called his only alley, Mike.

"Mike, this is Phil, I need your help!"

"Sure anything, what is it?"

"Your wife is over here telling Carol she should leave me. I can't be civil to that woman any longer. Please, I am pleading with you, speak to her. I have enough problems without her meddling interference."

Thirty minutes later Mike barged in the front door and found Phil back on his recliner finishing off his second drink.

"Sorry it took me so long. I got stopped for speeding. Where is that witch of a wife of mine?"

Phil pointed to the kitchen. Mike shot out of the room and returned shortly, firmly clasping each woman by the arm. "Let's start by determining what your problems are. We are going to settle this issue here and now. Now what is bothering everyone?"

Neither woman said a thing. They also couldn't meet Mike's eyes when he looked at them. Knowing where the wall of silence was weakest, Mike fastened his eyes on his daughter and said firmly, "Carol. I told you that you were the only one who could save your marriage. You can also destroy it."

Those words were enough to get his daughter to lift her head and look him in the eye. It also broke the damned up silence.

Suddenly it sounded like the tower of babble. Both women and Phil began to speak at once. Each believing the louder they spoke, the stronger their argument. To stop a major brouhaha Mike stepped in and took charge.

"Quiet, all of you! Sit down and we will go through this one at a time. Liz, you first since you seem to be the instigator of the latest crisis."

Liz whined, "Mike, don't talk to me like that. It hurts my feelings and is disrespectful. I am your wife."

"Wife, girlfriend, or concubine, it makes no difference. Respect is not something that is conveyed with the title. Respect is earned. If you want to be the esteemed matriarch of this family, start acting like one. Now I want the truth, why are you so determined to break up this marriage?"

After a moment's thought, Liz responded. "Phyllis is no longer a suitable mate for Carol. It's an abomination, Carol being married to someone who looks like her." She pointed at Phil, and went on, "Why, I'm embarrassed when people see them together. They think our daughter is a lesbian."

Mike scratched his chin and said, "Good, now we are getting somewhere. What you are really saying is you're not as concerned about our daughter's happiness as you are about appearances, and what people will think about you."

"Well, when you put it like that it doesn't sound so good. We have to live in this town. I don't want people pointing and laughing behind my back. I am only concerned for my family."

Mike threw his arms up in exasperation. "I can only assume your definition of family now excludes Phil. I will not make a judgment on your priorities, that's your opinion, now sit there and zip it."

"Carol it's your turn. What's eating at you?"

Carol spoke with a strong undertone of sadness, "I made a mistake, I screwed up I know. How many ways can I say I'm sorry? All Phyllis does is sulk and mope around the house. He's the professional, why can't he see we are not able to change anything that has happened in our past. We can only change how it will affect us in the future, and how we deal with it. Damn it, why must he let my one mistake; be the defining moment of his life?"

Mike knelt next to his daughter and glared into her eyes, "Go on sweetheart there is something you are hiding. Let it out or it will just fester and destroy your relationship."

Carol started to cry, between sniffles she got out, "It breaks my heart; but it's Phyllis, I am jealous of him. When we go out he gets all the attention I used to get. Damn it, he's a better looking woman than I am. That's just not right."

"OK, stop right there, that sounds just like your mother. It's your needs that come first."

Mike turned to Phil, who was sitting and nonchalantly fiddling with an earring. Mike asked, "Let's get this out in the open, do you want to be referred to as Phil or Phyllis?"

The silence dragged on as Phil stared at his perfectly manicured fingernails and contemplated the ramifications of his response. "Everyone out of the house calls me Phyllis. Mike, you and occasionally Carol, are the only ones that use Phil. So for consistency's sake, I guess we should go with Phyllis."

Mike stared at Phyllis and said, "Now for the $64,000 question. Do you want to be addressed as he or she?"

Phyllis thought for a long while and responded, "That's a tough question, I honestly don't know, sometimes I feel like a he and sometimes I feel like a she."

Mike then put Phyllis in the proverbial hot seat. "Listen to me missy, you are mired in self-pity and obviously depressed. As the saying goes, either piss or get off the pot! You can't go through life balancing on a fence.

"You can accept your future as a woman and make the best of it. Or you can pass yourself off as an effeminate man. It is my understanding no amount of plastic surgery will ever return you to your former masculine self. They can make you less feminine perhaps — then the question for you is. If you must live life as a woman would you rather be a plane Jane, a butch lesboo or a great looking woman?"

That brought a muffled giggle from Liz, which Mike stifled with a withering glare.

Phyllis blushed; a bright red and looked to Carol and stammered out, "I'm sorry Carol; I don't mean to take the spotlight off you, when we are out. But if I must live this way; I want...no I need to be attractive. I don't need men hanging on my every word; I just want to feel good about myself." He brushed at the tears that were forming at the corners of his eyes. 'Damned hormones!' He thought.

Carol stood and walked to Phyllis and hugged him as she said, "That's alright honey; every woman wants to be beautiful. We can all understand that.

"Damn it Phyllis, talk to me. Everyone knows communication is the key in any relationship. I have apologized a dozen times in a dozen different ways, what more do you want of me?"

Phyllis shook his head in exasperation and disappointment then pushed Carol away, stood and wiped a tear from his eye and headed to the bedroom. His voice quivered with pent-up emotion as he said over his shoulder, "I just want one I'm sorry. But I need it to be sincere."

Carol collapsed on the floor. "Daddy, what do I do now?"

"Dear, I think that you need to really show your husband how deeply you regret your conduct. It could very well call for grand gesture of some sort."

"You're the expert, what would it take?"

"Honey, that is something only you can determine. Let me know what you decide and I will support you anyway I can."

@ @ @ @

Carol got up, and walked to the spare bedroom and locked herself in. Luckily it had an en-suite since Carol didn't come out for two days except when she snuck out to go to a doctor's appointment. Being a scientist by training, she spent the time in solitude developing and evaluating her options. 'If a grand gesture is what Phyllis wants, he is going to get it. I hope it makes him happy,' thought Carol. Having made up her mind, she sat down a made up a detailed itinerary of what she was going to do. Her decision would have drastic consequences on the entire family, so Carol used her cell phone to schedule a family summit.

Carol bathed and spent a fair amount of time on her appearance, trying to disguise the fatigue etched in her face. She dressed in her 'best' cocktail dress a lovely long flowing gown with her highest heels, and her gorgeous Black Onyx necklace, figuring it might be her last chance to indulge in such feminine finery. She heard the various family members arrive, the stage was set. She paused with her hand on the door knob, took a deep breath and waited to make her grand entrance. She squared her shoulders, pasted a smile on her face and opened the door and waltzed into the living room as if she didn't have a care in the world.

She walked over to her mother who was sitting perched on the couch, kissed her on the cheek and said, "Thanks for coming mother."

Turning to her father she walked over to him and hugged him as he sat in a hardback chair. "Daddy, I love you."

Carol knelt at her husband's feet with tears streaming down her cheeks she beat her breast and said, "mea culpa, mea maxima culpa."

"My love, I admit I have mutilated your body. But I hope not your life; I still want to grow old with you. Now it's a matter of equivalence. I took your manhood from you and I must give up a corresponding component from me."

"Oh my God, Carol you aren't thinking of killing yourself?"

"No, nothing that drastic; but if that is what it will take to earn your forgiveness I will give it some consideration."

"Don't be a complete Eejit! True you took away my boy parts, but you haven't killed my spirit. In fact I am starting to enjoy parts of my life again. Tell us exactly what you have in mind."

"Alright, cutting to the chase, you are no longer the man around the house, so I am going to take over that responsibility."

Mike sighed in relieve thinking 'Alright she is just going to take over the traditional manly roles; wearing pants, taking out the garbage, mowing the lawn, and ensuring the vehicles are maintained.'

Liz was thinking along the same lines and added, "Carol, don't you dare start doing your husband's chores like cutting the grass, what will the neighbors think?"

Carol shook her head in discuss for their failing to grasp her intent. "None of you understand! I am not going to just act the part. I have scheduled surgery to become a man — a complete sexual reassignment." I know that you all might think that I'm making an erratic decision; I went to a psychologist as part of this. I explained why I was making this choice and he cleared me to go forward.

That is when all hell broke loose.

"OMG, Carol it wasn't that idiot McWilliams was it?"

"Yes daddy as a matter of fact it was, I like him despite your disapproval of his unorthodox methods."

"Well that explains a lot! The man is a quack and should have his license revoked."

Liz threw herself at her daughter's feet and wept. "You can't do that! I won't let you. My lord! What would people say? We would be the laughing stock of the entire town."

"Mother, there is only one person's opinion I care about and that is Phyllis."

Simultaneously Mike hugged his daughter, and raised his voice; something a trained family counselor never does and lectured, "Carol, you are not thinking correctly. Two wrongs never make a right. You must know that self-mutilation is considered a mental illness. Think what this will do to your personal and profession life. All those years of med school would be wasted; your friends will in all likelihood abandon you. Who would go to a doctor that was half man and half woman? You would be a freak."

"Daddy, you said you would support me. I am disappointed that you don't have enough faith in me to make my own decisions. I have thought this thing through. If I lose friends over this, I guess they really weren't my friends.

"I have even put out feelers in the transgender community. They have assured me of their support. I suspect, just like Phyllis's client base has skyrocketed; mine will do likewise. Instead of rich suburban house wives hoping to remain young, I will be helping emotionally desperate individuals trying to make sense of their lives."

Through all this Phyllis sat stunned, staring off into space. Cathy turned to her husband and inquired, "Phyllis, what do you think?"

"Doctor Franken Freak, I think what you propose is morally reprehensible, but there is a part of me that would garner a great deal of satisfaction from it. However, let me ask why you are doing this? Is it a form of self flagellation to earn my sympathy or is it because of true and contrite remorse?"

"Damn it Phyllis, is your heart made of stone? I am making the ultimate sacrifice giving up my womanhood, and all you can do is play Solomon and question my motivations. Phyllis, at one time I wanted to tell you to stop whining, pull up your big girl panties and man up over this small misunderstanding. Now in retrospect I believe that I need to be the one to 'man up', you obviously aren't up to it — in more than one way. Whether you will admit it or not, what I did to you, I did out of love. At the time I sincerely believed that is what you wanted; but were too cowardly to admit to me. The only error I made was not being brave enough to confront you with the evidence I found. I thought if I did that, it would only embarrass you. By making it a fait accompli, I reasoned it would be easier for you to show me your feminine self. I am the good guy here. Why do you insist on treating me like a leaper?"

"But what you did to me is not what I wanted."

"Phyllis you are still missing the point. What you wanted was irrelevant. I am an empirical scientist, I acted on the data I had available at the time. Obviously, if I knew then what I did now, things would have been different. To tell the truth, if I had to make a decision again with the facts I had then, I probably would make the same decision."

Phyllis was flabbergasted at Carol's attitude. He stood and walked to the master bedroom and locked the door, threw himself on the bed and wept in exasperation. He still loved Carol, but he could not accept her back into his heart until she understood.

Mike sent Liz home and he sat with Carol just holding and consoling her.

When she eventually got up to go to bed, Mike invaded Phil's private sanctum by pounding on the door until it was opened. Mike noticed Phyllis' eyes were red from crying but he had combed his hair and changed into a floor length lace nightgown with spaghetti straps that shamelessly displayed his predominant bosom.

Mike took one look at his attire and took a big chance, "Damn it Phyllis you are one hot momma, if I wasn't married..."

These inappropriate comments shocked Phyllis. "Mike, I expected sympathy from you. Not mockery!"

"First off please call me Dad. It is not mockery to make an objective evaluation of the situation. Sit down on the bed. We need to have a talk. According to C.S. Lewis, 'Crying is all right in its own way while it lasts. But you have to stop sooner or later'*".
* thanks Andrea Lena

"Phyllis, we are both trained professionals, and you know what you need to do as well as I do. There is an old prayer that speaks volumes here, "God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change. The courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference."

"Let's be honest here, your body is what it is. You had a goal in mind when you married my daughter. But that express way is permanently closed. We can't change the past, and we shouldn't want to. Our past is what has helped us get to where we are, and the past is what guarantees us our future. Accept your new life, stop dwelling on the negative. You are not clairvoyant, you can't know the future. Your new life may be better than you old one. Don't give up, give it a chance. Chart yourself a new course to happiness. Don't be afraid of being who you are. If you try to suppress it, you will only be cheating yourself."

Phyllis sat for the longest time and digested what his father-in-law had said.

"Mike, you have a knack for hitting on the obvious. My muscles are as soft as marshmallows. Hell last week at the grocery store I had to ask the box boy to load the bags into my trunk they were too heavy for me. I had three boys and one older gentleman fighting over the chore. It made me feel very unmasculine, or I guess more appropriately I felt very feminine and I liked it. I hate to admit this and if you quote me I will deny it but I am more at peace with myself like this. Your daughter may have done me a favor. But by God she needs to be taught a lesson."

Mike leaned towards his son-in-law and said intensely, "For God's sake man, stop grousing, let's put our heads together and see what we can come up with. Just one thing, I insist that Liz be given a lesson as well! It is getting late, how about I pick you up at your office at noon and I will take you out to lunch while we figure out our course of action."

@ @ @ @

Mike pulled his BMW into the visitors spot at Phyllis's office right at noon. He announced his presence to the receptionist and stood patiently, while he survived the eclectic group of patients in the waiting room.

Phyllis put down the phone, ending her brief conversation with the receptionist. Phyllis crossed the room and retrieved her Gucci shoulder purse, a recent gift from Carol, from the hook on the backside of the door. He dug through several Archaeology layers and finally somewhere around the ice age layer he found his lip-gloss, stepping to the mirror he checked his hair then expertly coated his lips. He briefly though about refreshing his perfume but decided against it. He cautiously spun around and ambled back to his large oak desk. The only shoes in his closet, that went with his maroon outfit where these narrow four inch heels. Phyllis realized that walking on his tiptoes was a developing art form; he wasn't perfect but was improving. He scooped his cell phone, and iPod into the cavernous void. As Phyllis dropped several pens into the opening he thought back to the day Carol presented him the generous present. At the time he was less than impressed with the gesture. However he had come to appreciate it not only for its beauty but also its functionality. As a man Phil had to make do with a wallet. He could carry his credit cards, a driver's license, some money, and a few family snapshots. Now with his purse he can carry enough to support a shipwrecked family of three for a week. Phyllis hefted the heavy bag over his shoulder and looked forward to his planning session with Mike.

Phyllis stepped into the lobby and spotted Mike immediately. A handsome middle-aged man in a $1,000 suit stood out from the normal clientele. Mike rushed over to Phyllis and gave her a hug saying, "Are you ready for our lunch date? My car is just outside."

Mike, put his hand in the small of Phyllis's back and guided her to his car. He opened the door and took her hand to help her entered the car.

Mike drove into town to a small out of the way café. Seeing the rundown storefront, Phyllis turned to Mike with just a quizzical look she conveyed her concern. Mike smiled and answered her unspoken question with, "Wait and see, this place has the best clam chowder you have ever eaten, and their cheese biscuits are to die for."

Mike had to park down an alley. He again helped Phyllis out of the car and offered her his arm, which she clung too with a death grip least she twist and break an ankle. They walked over the gravel alleyway, eventually reaching the sidewalk that lead to the front door. The owner greeted Mike by his first name and the two were led to a quiet corner at a table for two. Before Phyllis could sit, Mike stood behind him and pulled out his chair. He helped Phyllis sit.

Embarrassed and excited at the same time by the gallant manner Mike was treating him; Phyllis had to ask, "Dad what has gotten into you? Why are you treating me this way?"

"Why whatever do you mean? I am just taking my attractive daughter-in-law out to lunch."

"Daughter-in-law?"

Mike smiled, "Let's be honest, take a step back a take a look at what you've become. My daughter may have an ego the size of Alaska; but she is unequivocally the Michelangelo of cosmetic surgeons. It wasn't your wish; but dear she has turned you into real eye candy. Every man in this place has been giving you the eye from the moment we walked in.

"I'm doing nothing more than treating you like the lady you appear to be. Carol waved her magic scalpel and turned an ugly duckling into a graceful swan, you have become a different person. I'm not talking just about the shell of Phillip. There is only one way to say this, as a professional psychologists I have witnessed your personality slowly morph into a feminine persona. My question to you, is your path a charted one or are you just aimlessly drifting where the tides take you?"

Phyllis was getting real uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was headed. Just then the waiter brought their meals. As if to reinforce what Mike had just said the waiter made eye contact with Phyllis. As he set the meal before her, he gave Phyllis a captivating smile who instinctively smiled back at him.

Mike watched the two interact with amusement. "Phyllis my dear, the time's coming where you are going to have to choose. A blind man can see you can attract any man you want. Imagine yourself someday being the trophy wife of some rich old millionaire living the life of leisure. There are a ton of rich men in San Francisco who would appreciate a woman like you. Think about it, you would have certain obligations as a wife, but would it be that bad a tradeoff, waited on hand and foot by servants while covered in jewels and furs."

"Mike, I have no interest in men now; nor will I in the future, no matter how much money they have!

"I've found some positive things about appearing as an attractive woman. I've also learned to appreciate the softer, more feminine side of life. That doesn't mean I'm turning gay."

"Of course not! You are simply adapting to your environment, a classic example of Darwinism. I think there may be a paper here."

Mike said, "I shouldn't have to tell you this, but I will anyway." He tapped Phil in the forehead and continued. "Stop using this."

Then he tapped between his breasts and said, "Start using this to rule your life. You'll be a much happier person."

"You're the expert on sexual orientation, are you telling me you think I've changed teams?"

Mike took a long pull on his beer and being just a little drunk answered, "In my professional opinion you're a male lezzy. I am just teasing, but you must realize that the world sees you as a beautiful voluptuous woman no matter how you see yourself. It is time you decide what you want to do concerning your marriage. Understandably you've been upset. Just how long to you intend to keep taking your anger out on my daughter? I know at times she comes across as a full-blown delusional sociopath, with a total lack of conscience. That is all an act. She cares about you deeply. So what are your intentions toward my daughter?"

Without hesitation Phyllis responded, "I know what I want. I love Carol and want to stay with her as her husband, lover and helpmate, if she'll have me. But I have no intention of being the wife to some transsexual man."

"That's great to hear, now let's find a way to make her worthy of that kind of love and devotion.

"She has made a threat. I know her, as a child every time she got angry at us, she would threaten to run away...That stopped when one day I helped her pack a bag and carried it to the front door. I firmly believe she doesn't want to have the surgery. She will put up a token resistance; but expects us to talk her out of it. In her mind she will get credit for the gesture but has no intention to pay the piper."

Mike leaned in close to Phyllis in a conspiratorial manner and said, "Here's what I recommend we do. We call her bluff, we'll tell Carol we respect her decision and will help her get what she wants. I will even find a surgeon and schedule the surgery for her."

"What if this isn't a bluff, Dad?"

"We'll step in at the last minute and prevent it. Believe you me; she will never let it get that far. My 'first' daughter is too self-centered to make that kind of sacrifice.

We could even let the anesthesiologist put her under. And have the surgeon perform some minor cosmetic surgery, nothing serious just painful."

With the plan finalized, Mike got up, went to the cash register to pay the bill, Phyllis retrieved her heavy purse from the floor and took the opportunity to visited the little girls room to repair the damage done by lunch. Mike noticed how casually Phyllis walked into the female sanctuary, but elected to not comment on it.

Phyllis again took Mike's arm for the walk back to the car. When they got to the alleyway entrance, Phyllis paused and dreaded the obstacle course back to Mike's sedan. Mike stopped and said, "Phyllis why don't you wait here. I'll go get the car and save you the walk."

For some unfathomable reason Phyllis reached over and gave Mike a quick peck on the cheek. "Thanks Dad, that would be wonderful."

Mike was half way to the car when a young man in a black sweatshirt and jeans appeared out of the shadows wielding a knife in a threatening manner he said. "Old man, I don't want no trouble. Give me your wallet, cell phone and car keys and I won't hurts you."

Using the point of the knife the mugger slowly backed Mike up against the restaurant's dumpster.

Phyllis was furious; he had been the captain of his high school's wrestling team. Six months ago he would have picked the assailant up and thrown him in the dumpster. Now thanks to his wife's surgery and the massive amounts of hormones in his system he was a helpless woman in a skirt and high heels.

There was still enough of Phil left to try and find some way to help Mike. Besides there was no way, he was walking back to the office in those heels. Feeling the weight of the purse on his shoulder Phil formed a plan. It was a tad high risk but he had to do something, no one was going to threaten his family. He took the purse strap off his shoulder and held it in his hand so the bag almost drug on the ground. Then as stealthily as possible he attempted to sneak up on the thief.

Phyllis got to within a couple of yards of the young man when the goon evidently heard something. He turned his head to investigate; seeing only a middle aged broad with gigantic hooters, who in his mind presented no threat so he ignored her.

Being dismissed as insignificant; enraged Phil further. With superhuman strength he was able to get the purse over his head and swung it in a circle, with each revelation he picked up speed and therefore momentum. When he got within striking range he attempted to let out a blood curtailing scream — something left over from his Viking ancestors. Unfortunately with his vocal cords being altered, rather than a Danish warrior; it sounded more like a teenage girl who had her toes stepped on. In either case the shriek was affective; the mugger turned his head to investigate the racket. The purse caught him full force on the forehead and knocked him to the ground where he hit his head with a thud.

Mike kicked the knife under the dumpster and stood in awe at the actions of his newest daughter. The man began to moan and was obviously coming too. Mike was concerned, "We need to get out of here before he comes around. We'll let the police handle this."

Phyllis opened her purse, dug through it and pulled a spare pair of pantyhose she had learned to always carry for emergencies. Holding the pantyhose up like a trophy she responded, "No way Dad, this thug threatened my family and his is not getting away with it."

Phyllis tore open the package and had the nylons out in record time. Thirteen seconds later she had her calf hogtied. His hands and feet firmly secured together behind his back.

The man began to thrash about and pull at his bonds. As a final indignity Phyllis calmly sat on him, found her cell phone and nonchalantly called the police. The mugger began yelling obscenities and making threats to Mike and Phyllis. After a second warning to cease and desist, Phyllis lost her patience and once again dove into her treasure trove of a purse. This time she removed a maxi pad unwrapped it and stuffed it into the mouth of the obnoxious thief.

@ @ @ @

Twenty minutes later, a squad car showed up with two uniformed officers, followed closely by a news van from a local television station. Before the crook could be freed they managed to capture a dozen excellent pictures of the perpetrator tied up like a calf at a rodeo. The cops and newsmen all got a good chuckle out of that.

The lead officer, Sgt O'Doul took Mike and Phyllis's statements. While patrolman Sanchez retrieved the knife and took the scoundrel into custody and read him his rights.

The sergeant finished taking statements and was putting his notebook away, when his partner came over to the trio, he dragged the criminal with him. "Look Sarge, she even managed to brand him."

O'Doul gave a quizzical look until he saw the mugger. He had a bruise forming on his forehead that quite clearly was recognizable as that of the Gucci logo.

The newsman leapt on that, and had his cameraman snap a couple of facial shots. He had the caption all planned. "He made her day, Gucci gaucho gets her man."

In a very respectful manner, the rookie Patrolman Sanchez shuffled his feet and apologetically said. "Ma'am I'm so sorry I wasn't able to salvage your stockings. Where'd you learn to tie knots like that? We could save the department a lot of money on handcuffs and just issue patrolman nylons."

Everyone chuckled at the frivolous comment. Phyllis replied, "Oh that's nothing. It's just something I picked up while in the boy scouts."

The policeman ignored the comment and wrote it off as a slip of the tongue.

The news reporter was not as careless. He turned to his cameraman and ordered a dozen more shots of the woman. He took his notebook out and made a note to himself to investigate this when he had time.

@ @ @ @

Getting into the car, Mike turned to his 'new daughter' and said, "As your therapist, after our brush with death, I prescribe an afternoon of relaxation, I am taking you to the best neighborhood bar in the city." Phyllis and Dad called their offices and canceled all their afternoon appointments.

Mike drove for 15 minutes and finally parked in front of a saloon called, 'The Hole in One.'
Phyllis gave her father-in-law a questioning look. "It's not what you think. It's a sports bar."

Phyllis gave her father-in-law a frown of indifference; but said nothing.

"Don't give me that look young lady. Phil was a hell of tennis player; he sure kicked my butt whenever we played. You're still into sports aren't you?"

"Yes; but thanks to Carol I've gone from competitor to cheerleader."

Mike regretted his question, afraid he had just put a damper on the afternoon until Phyllis gave Mike a playful poke in the arm and said, "You should see what I can do with my pompoms. I can really get the crowd up."

This lascivious image popped into Mike's head which caused him to immediately blush San Francisco 49er Scarlet Red.

Phyllis noticed and teased, "What's the matter Dad; you aren't having naughty thoughts about my ta-tas are you?"

Entering the bar, Phyllis's heightened sensibilities depicted the stench of stale beer. Phil shook his head at that realization; it was something he probably never would have noticed several months ago.

"This is my favorite watering hole, my sanctuary away from Liz and Carol. Let's turn off our cell phones, relax and we'll throw back a few beers and just enjoy our afternoon off."

Mike again held Phyllis's chair for him. The two selected a table beneath a 52 inch flat screen TV that was showing a kickboxing match from Bangkok.

Phyllis took a quick look around and casually remarked, "Dad, have you noticed I'm the only woman in here, even the servers are men?"

Mike leaned back and balanced the chair on its two rear legs and put his psychologist hat on. He thought carefully before he spoke. "Phyllis did you hear what you just said?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Then it dawned on him what Mike was referring to.

"What I meant was I'm the only one in here dressed like a woman."

Mike didn't say anything right away. He finally said, "Relax, Phil. We all make Freudian slips like that. Why just yesterday at the breakfast table I meant to say to my Liz, 'Please pass the sugar', but I accidentally said, 'You bitch, you wrecked my life'."

Phil laughed at the old joke but was still very flustered. He changed his drink order from a light beer to a whiskey.

The two spent the afternoon and early evening drinking and talking about interesting cases they had seen.

Mike called for a cab. While they waited, Phil realized he had to take a piss really badly. Mike told him to hurry; their ride would be there any minute. Rushing to the back of the bar where the restroom sign was, Phil found a hall. Phyllis had been using the office bathroom, which was unisex. He was not thinking men or woman with his bladder about to burst, he merely opened the first door he came to and charged in like a bull.

He ran headlong into an elderly gentleman exiting the men's room and knocked the old guy on his keister. Phil looked over the prostrate old man and saw the urinals hanging on the wall. Realizing his mistake, Phil was totally humiliated. He reached out to help the guy up by grasping his hand and in one strong move yanked him to his feet.

The stranger was bewildered; first this totally hot babe knocked him off his feet in the men's room and then about pulled his arm out of his socket helping him up. He had never encountered a woman with that kind of strength. "Miss I believe you are in the wrong room, yours is across the hall."

Phil thinking as fast as he could come up with a logical story, "I'm sorry sir, I didn't know anyone was in here. The plumbing in the woman's toilet is plugged up and I need to use the bathroom, right now. I'm about to have a very embarrassing accident."

The man had been married for 38 years and understood about female problems so he gallantly stepped aside and let her pass. "Miss, I'll watch the door to ensure you're not disturbed. Take your time."

Phil sat on the toilet with his dress bunched up around his waist and emptied his bladder. He took a good look around and sighed while he thought this would probably be the last time he'll ever be able to use a men's room.

Phyllis caught up with Mike just as their cab arrived. Leaving his car behind Mike dropped Phyllis off at his home before going to face the wrath of Liz for being late and drunk. Two excusable offenses but the one that would really get him into the doghouse was not having called.

Phil suspected he had missed dinner. But he was feeling no pain and was willing to except the consequences for his boy's day out. The reception Phil experience was nothing like he anticipated.

He tried to slip into the house undiscovered only to find Carol perched in front of the television. He stood in the hall and listened to the end of a local news cast that described how a local female vigilante had singlehandedly taken down an armed robber. Carol noticed Phyllis standing in the hall and stood to confront her husband. After hearing the news that accurately described his exploits, he expected a hero's welcome from his wife. That's not what he got.

Carol launched an attack at her cross-dressed husband, "Just what the hell were you thinking out there? You risked not only your life but my father's. When I saw your picture and heard how you took on that thug by yourself, it scared me to death. I about had a heart attack. Take a good look at yourself Phyllis. You wear makeup, a bra, skirts and high heels. For Pete's sake, you're not a man any longer. Why can't you accept that? You're one of us now, women scream for help they don't go berserk and attack a mugger."

"Carol, go to hell! I'm still a man. Because of you, I just don't happen to look like one. Now get out of my way, I'm going to take a hot bath."

A pissed off Carol shot back, "I'll bet mister macho man takes a bubble bath."

Phil rolled his eyes in exasperation and used his right-hand to give Carol a very vulgar sign.

Carol snickered and responded with, "Don't forget to shave your legs."

He intentionally decided to camp it up, hoping to annoy Carol; he sashayed down the hall really working his hip swing gait. Reaching his room he made a point of locking the door.

He undressed, throwing his clothes in a pile on the floor. After his long soaking non-bubble bath, Phil was getting ready for bed. He heard a very gentle rapping on the door.

"Phyllis, you haven't eaten anything. I'm sorry for what I said. Please forgive me; I just can't stand the thought of losing you. What would I do if I was all alone? I have dinner ready, please come and eat."

"Go away and leave me alone, I'm not hungry."

"Alright, I made up a tray and will leave it here by the door in case you change your mind."

The smell of pot-roast permeated his room and tormented Phil. He was hungry so he crept to the door and listened for Carol. When all was quiet, he opened the door and carried the try to his bed, where he thoroughly enjoyed the meal. The tray also contained a large glass of wine, if it had been anything but Liebfraumilch, his favorite he would have ignored it. But after the full meal and relaxing bath it seem a great way to end the day.

Phil awoke the next morning with a terrible headache. He should have known better than to mix whiskey with wine. A quick glance around the room showed his dirty dishes were gone as was the pile of clothes on the floor.

Carol stuck her head around the door. "Good you're awake. Here is a glass of orange juice and a couple of aspirin. You didn't relock the door when you brought the tray in. I hope you aren't upset, before bed I took them to kitchen and put your dress in the hamper. I also washed your delicates. They are hanging in your shower. When you feel like it, there is coffee and a sweet roll for breakfast."

Phil knew he was hung-over; but was still taken back by Carol's amiable attitude.

"Thanks honey, I'll be in after I use the facilities."

"Oh, that reminds me, I called a contractor yesterday; I thought we might remodel your bathroom and add a bidet. What do you think?"

Phil wondered, 'What the hell is she up to now?'

Phil tried what he thought was a way to trip up Carol, "If we're going to remodel, with two women in the house now about we enlarge our walk-in closet? We could really use more room."

"That's sweet of you; but by the time they're finished you'll be the only one female living here, remember? Phyllis can take my space; I'll move my new man things into Pill's old corner. Speaking of new clothes, I'm going to move some money out of our saving account to pay for my Carl's new wardrobe. No offense, but I'm going to be a much snapper dresser than you ever were."

Phil sat at the dinette and sipped his coffee. Carol rushed by, kissed him on the cheek and said, "I have to hurry I have an appointment with my psychologist, Doctor McWilliams. When I get home tonight I will have some papers for you to sign. Love you."

Things were moving a lot faster than Phil anticipated. Hel waited until Carol's car pulled away from the house and immediately called Mike. He briefed him on this morning's events and invited him over to be here when Carol got home.

@ @ @ @

Carol arrived home a little after 6 PM to find her father and husband sitting in the living room. She greeted her father with a warm hug and her husband with a quick peck on the lips.

Carol called everyone over to the dining room table where she spread out several sheets of paper.

Carol was seemingly excited as she explained, "These are the consent forms for my surgery. Because of our unusual family circumstances, Doctor McWilliams has agreed to waive the one year waiting period for SRS.

Phyllis, since we are still legally married, your signature is also required. Please sign at the X, Philip David Brown."

"Could you go fix Dad and me a drink while I look these over?"

Once Carol was out of the room, Phil whispered to his father-in-law, "Dad what do I do?"

Mike calmly replied, "Do exactly as she suggests. I'll explain later."

Once the papers were all signed Carol gathered them up and went to her office to fax them to the doctor's office.

"Dad, I don't understand. I thought you said she would never go through with this."

"Relax, you signed Philip David right?"

"Yep."

"Then everything is fine. Don't you remember Carol had your name legally changed to Phyllis Darlene? The signature on those forms is not legal since 'Philip David' no longer exists. Carol knows that, for Pete's sake, she's the one that had your name changed. That is why she was so specific in her instructions to you. I'm convinced this is all part of her ploy. Just before surgery she'll mention to the surgeon about your name change. She'll save face by having it all stopped on a technicality and her grand gesture will be complete."

"I don't know Dad, I'm still really nervous about this whole thing."

"Trust me; I've got it all under control. I saw the date and surgeon's name on the form. He's an old golfing buddy. I'll talk to him and explain it all. Our plan is right on track, when she tells the doctor about your name change. I'll make sure Carol hears me step in and tell him, the forms are correct. Carol's marriage license is made out to Philip David, so that is the name that is required on the form. I'll bet that will give her pause."

"You still plan on letting her have surgery?"

"Yep, I noticed one of the things she requested was for a new nose. She has never liked the one she has since she broke it in grade school. She'll wake up with her head, chest and groin heavily bandaged. We'll give her a new snout just not a masculine one, a little liposuction on her thighs and sides will make believe she has had things done there. We could even give her a set of boobs to match yours. That should teach her it's not nice to fool with Mother Nature."

"Dad, when do we tell her it's all a joke?"

"I don't know we'll play that by ear."

@ @ @ @

The next few days were routine. Then on Thursday, Liz was visiting at her daughter's. They were in the kitchen, chatting. Liz had intentionally avoided the issue of Carol's intended sex change. Liz hoped the whole thing would just fade away, once emotions had calmed down. Carol was at the range fussing over a batch of cookies she was taking out of the oven. Liz was relaxing at the dinette enjoying a cup of hot tea. The doorbell rang, Carol asked, "Mom could you get that for me? I don't want the cookies to burn."

"Sure honey."

Liz called from the front door. Carol it's a package. Do you want me to sign for it?"

"Yes please."

Liz took a mothers prerogative and opened the package on the way to the kitchen. She got to the door and collapsed on the floor, hysterically sobbing. Carol checked her mother's vital signs and became concerned. She was trembling, sweating profusely and short of breath. Liz complained of being dizzy and had a tingling sensation in her fingers. Carol called for an ambulance and followed her mother to the hospital.

Carol, Phyllis and Mike all gathered in the emergency waiting room. The concerned group anxiously waited for the doctor to come and tell them his findings.

A young intern, in scrubs came out with the good news.

"She'll be fine; it was just a panic attack. They're frightening but fortunately physically harmless. Something really scared her. Any idea what was so disturbing as to cause this? We have her under heavy sedation; but she should be able to go home this evening."

As the doctor left, all eyes turned to Carol. She shrugged her shoulders and said, "She open a package addressed to me by mistake. I guess she wasn't prepared for what she found."

Mike stepped up to Carol and got in her face. "Just what could you have gotten in the mail that almost killed your mother?"

"Daddy, she just over reacted. It was my subscription of testosterone."

Phyllis became weak in the knees and had to sit before he did the girly thing of fainting.

Carol drove her car home. Phyllis hadn't recovered sufficiently from the shock to drive so he rode with Mike. "Dad, I thought you said this was all a bluff."

"It is, why else would Carol have your mother open the package. She had to let us know she had a prescription for male hormones. I'll bet if you check the seals will never be broken on the bottles. I'll drop you off and go back and pick up Liz. Just act as if nothing has happened. Call me in the morning."

Phyllis got home and ate half the cookies sitting in the kitchen before Carol slapped his hand and drove him from the kitchen, with a dire warning about ruining his dinner.

At bed time Phyllis snuck into the bathroom and peaked into Carol's medicine cabinet. Right there on the bottom shelf he found three bottles of testosterone cypionate. He noticed one of the bottles had the plastic seal broken. Further investigation revealed the cotton wadding was still firmly in place. Phyllis relaxed, put on his lacy nightgown and crawled into bed and cuddled up to a cotton pajama clad Carol. As he snuggled his breasts against his wife's back, the dichotomy of the situation was not lost on Phyllis.

The next day Phyllis wasn't able to get in touch with Mike until mid afternoon.

"Hi, Phyllis, I was just going to call you. I spent the morning with Randy Johnson, Carol's scheduled surgeon. I explained the entire thing to him. He is willing to play along with us on one very big condition. You have to get Carol to give you a medical power of attorney. I'll fax the form over; you must get her to sign it. Do you think that'll be a problem for you?"

"Gee Dad, I don't know. Does it have to be notarized?"

"No, In California a power of attorney is legal if it is signed by the principal, agent, and two witnesses. Liz and I will sign, to make it all proper."

"Alright, I'll try and let you know."

Phil put his thinking cap on and finally came up with a game plan. Carol had never handled her liquor well. So step one was to get her intoxicated. However it would take more than alcohol to get Carol to lower her guard.

So step two would require he seduce his wife. Carol had been pestering him to join her in a night of passion. In the afterglow of sex he would slip her the paperwork and convince her it was just a routine form the hospital faxed over. He laughed to himself; she was definitely going to get fucked tonight.

He checked out of work early, stopped by the liquor store and the meat market. The he dashed into a local beauty shop for a quick makeover and added highlights to his hair, and had his nails done in fire engine red. The beautician also talked him into buying a bottle of exquisite French perfume that cost as much as his first car. But the heavenly floral aroma was worth it.

Arriving home Phyllis started dinner preparations, once the roast was in the oven and the table set. He turned his attentions to getting dressed.

Phyllis wanted something that would shape and emphasize his fun bags, something both had come to enjoy. After going through every bra in his collection he finally selected on a brassiere that was a present, it came from Liz and was intended to embarrass Phil. Liz had made a major production of presenting it to him, at a family Sunday night dinner. As she handed it to him she wore a Cheshire cat smile and said it was a 'small' gift so Phyllis wouldn't develop back problems. The faux gift was a sexy virgin white G sized, padded underwire pushup Wonderbra covered in delicate almost translucent lace. No one laughed at her joke, although Phil did catch Carol smirking behind a napkin, when he held up the bra to get a look at what was in the box.

Now paradoxically, weeks later Phyllis was going to use the practical joke to deceive his wife. This was the first time he had worn it. He enthusiastically acknowledged the lingerie's finest feature was that its cups only just covered the tops of his dark areolas. Securing it in place and settling his mounds in the cups Phyllis was elated with results. The delicate bit of fluff was sheer enough that his areolas and nipples were unmistakable visible through the taut material. The outcome was just the effect Phil was looking for. The bra fought to contain its massive load, as it lifted his soft breast tissue up into the very top of the cups, and left the jiggling skin perched where it threatened to spill out of the bra.

For a dress, he selected an outfit he had given Carol on Valentine's Day the first year they were married. She had never worn it, as the tags were still attached. It was a sexy figure hugging red strapless mini dress, designed for a smaller woman, than Phyllis. On him it was long enough that when he stood up straight it almost covered the tabs holding up his fishnet stockings. He wrestled with getting the dress past his bodacious bottom. Thank goodness for his Victorian style corset or he never would have gotten the dress past his waist much less the zipper closed. The dress was so tight, Phil was concerned a seam might give way; it resolutely displayed every curve of his body to its maximum effect.

He fluffed his hair out and marveled at the difference the red highlights made to his appearance. Next he attached a pair of long dangling crystal earrings that just barely grazed his shoulders, but caught the light whenever he moved his head. He went to his dresser and put his wedding ring back on. He had refused to wear it for several weeks. He sprayed a thick cloud of the new perfume and stepped into it and let is slowly settle on him. He slipped on his red stilettos, added an extra coat of shinny lip-gloss and he was ready, Carol will never stand a chance.

Returning to the kitchen he took the roast out of the oven, and pulled the homemade bread out of the bread maker, tossed a green salad and opened the wine to let it breathe. For desert he had fresh strawberries and whip cream and a pitcher of frozen margaritas. The scene was all set for his grand seduction.

@ @ @ @

He heard Carol's car pull into the driveway. He hid in the kitchen waiting for his chance.

"Hi honey I'm home."

"Hang up your coat, there's a drink waiting for you on the coffee table; I'll have dinner ready in a minute."

Carol welcomed her cheery reception, Phil hadn't cooked in weeks. It had been a long tiring day and she was glad to be relieved of kitchen duties for the night. She hung her suit coat in the hall closet and walked the few feet into the living room. She bent and picked up the glass of wine on the table. She had to carefully lift it to her lips as it was filled to the very brim on the verge of overflowing. While Carol's attention was focused on the wineglass, Phyllis made a stealthful approach from behind. As Carol stood sipping her drink, Phyllis moved in behind her and stood so close his breasts just lightly grazed her back. Phyllis delicately moved his tits across Carol's back.

Carol sensed rather than felt the presence of someone behind her. She took a large sip of wine and leaned back to confirm her suspicions and took a deep breath of the feminine aroma. She wasn't sure what was happening, what had gotten into her husband. But one never looks a gift horse in the mouth. Phyllis continued to provide Carol a tit massage, each lap across her back the pressure increased. Carol gulped her wine, and then threw caution to the wind as she dropped the now empty glass on the carpet. She twisted around to face her husband and slipped her fingers into his hair firmly gabbing Phyllis's locks. Carol brought her lips to his. Phyllis opened his mouth expecting the thrust of her tongue. Instead she fed him the wine from her mouth. Phyllis's world spun. The wine was so much more intoxicating coming from her, as the warmth of the fluid slid over his tongue and down his gullet. Phyllis melted, he lost track of himself and everything around them. Carol placed her other hand behind his head, and crushed him harder to her, smashing their lips against each other. The last of the wine passed from Carol's mouth to his and her tongue replaced it, delving into his warmth as if to explore every bit of him. Phil's plan was crumbling, his forehead glistened in perspiration he clenched his fists, in frustration. It was his plan to seduce Carol. She had taken the lead away from him, she had become the aggressor.

Carol was intoxicated by the promise of a union with her beloved husband. He tasted of wine and the promise of sex, and he smelled of a heavenly scent. Phyllis broke the kiss and leaned back. Carol for the first time was provided a panoramic view of the creature before her. Caroled swooned at the sight of her normally shy and demur husband; shamelessly displaying his headlights like a common trollop. She threw herself into the arms of her blonde bombshell and hugged him for all she was worth. And said, "Welcome home lover."

Phil half carried, half led Carol to the dining room, he seated her at the head of the table. He turned on some romantic music and plied Carol with wine, women and song. Except when he was serving the dishes, he sat next to Carol and made it a point to always maintain some sort of physical contact. He even cut up her food and fed it to her one bite at a time.

It was the most romantic dinner either had ever had. But all good things must end.

Phyllis stood and kissed Carol's ear. "I've laid out a nightgown for you in the spare bedroom. Please wear it for me. I'll be on our bed waiting for your return. I'm going to change into something more comfortable."

Not waiting for a response, Phyllis scurried off to the bedroom, caring the half empty pitcher of margaritas and two glasses. He had prepared an outfit designed to make Carol's heart skip a beat. He first reapplied his lip gloss and perfume then donned a lacy black Baby doll lingerie outfit sans the undies - for easy access. It hugged his curves with a sheer veil of mesh and fishnet. The sexy lingerie set revealed every inch of his body while framing his assets in a salacious look. It tied at the halter neck for the perfect fit; the stretchy nightdress clung to his every curve and accentuated the intimate details of his nude body beneath.

This time Carol made the surreptitiousness approach. She was wearing a diaphanous floor length white silk nightgown that contrasted perfectly with her husband's night dress. Sneaking up behind her sexy husband, Carol was in lust. This was the first time since his feminization that Phil had shown any real interest in her as a sexual partner. She grabbed him by the shoulders and spun him around and kissed him like she had on their honeymoon. As their tongues fenced, Phil's pent up sexual desire went into over drive.

Carol pushed Phyllis on to the bed and tried to mount him like the old days. Phil was overcome by feelings of nostalgia. His manhood was no longer usable as a piston; but the swelling little root still retained all its nerve endings. Carol suckled on his large sensitive nipples as she humped her crotch against his nub. It wasn't like before but it was satisfying. Phil had his first climax since the tragic mix-up. It was glorious.

Carol lay next to her husband, her libido yet to be satisfied and sadly said, "Honey, I'm sorry you're no longer a man, it's my entire fault."

"Who says I'm no longer a man? I may be missing my testicles, but that is not the definition of manhood. Let me show you what your man can do!"

With that Phil buried his head between Carol's legs and with as much gusto as he could muster he licked and sucked his wife to an earth shattering organism.

Carol returned the favor between Phyllis's legs and aggressively nibbled her husband's responsive man clit. Sleep was not on the agenda that night; it was filled with nothing but loving fantastic sex.

As the morning light shown through the window, Carol was the first to rise. After a cup of coffee she returned and sat on the bed, waking her husband. "Phyllis I need to thank you, that was an unbelievable night. I'll remember it always. What I did to you is unforgiveable. I am truly sorry.

I know you can't thank me now but looking at you, I can't but believe I've created a masterpiece. A haunting beauty, maybe someday you will appreciate the gift I have given you."

Carol mused, 'Now I'm so confused. If I thought it were possible for us to be happy living as two lesbians, it would change everything.'

Carol pushed a lock of hair aside and kissed him on the forehead. She stood to leave then turned, "Oh, I found the papers on the dresser. I assume you wanted me to sign them, so I did. I'll leave them in the kitchen next to your breakfast. Have a great day lover, I'll see you tonight.

@ @ @ @

The next night was surreal. Phyllis came home to find Carol waiting, dinner on the table.

As they finished a light meal of leftovers, Carol was cleaning up; Phyllis stood and offered to help.

With an eerie calmness to her voice Carol said, "No thanks snookums, after tonight this will be your job. How about it, once more for old times' sake? While I finish up here, take your girlie melons into the bedroom. I'm in the mood for dessert."

True to her word, husband and wife had another night of sexual bliss. Phyllis awoke the next morning to find Carol had already left the house. He thought, 'Two nights in a row and I'm exhausted and my nipples are sore. I'm not getting any younger I guess. Tonight I only want a quiet evening of cuddling.'

Phyllis quickly dressed and left for the office. The morning was routine and quite frankly boring. That all changed after lunch. Phyllis had just returned from the cafeteria and was met by his receptionist, Janet.

"Excuse me Doctor Turner; while I was out to lunch you received a message." Janet snickered at the thought of the best looking woman in the building having a wife. But it is San Francisco, so she went on, "Is your wife ill?"

"What are you talking about Jan?"

"The message was from Middletown Hospital confirming your wife's surgery time as 3 PM today; they said she had to be at admitting no later than 1:30."

"Are you sure you got that straight?"

Janet handed Phyllis the phone and confirmed, "Yes Doctor, it is on voice mail. Here you can listen to it."

Phil looked at his new feminine wristwatch and had to squint to read the numbers on the smaller watch face. "Shit, it's already after 1 PM."

Phyllis called Carol's cell phone only to find it was turned off. He tried her office and only got her answering service. He was told the doctor wouldn't be available for a couple of weeks.

"Janet would you please call Doctor Friedman, and ask if he can take my afternoon patients, those he can't please reschedule. I have to run home to find out what's going on."

Phil drove home like a madman, only slowing at stop signs and taking 'yellow' at stop lights very liberally. He ran into the house, to find a note taped on the refrigerator door. 'Honey, I should have told you, but I was afraid you would try and talk me out of it. The hospital called and had an opening on their surgical schedule. It's a different doctor but I checked out his credentials and he is considered one of the best on the west coast for my procedures. So please don't worry about me. I volunteered to go in early for my SRS. I'm at Middletown if you feel like visiting.

'I love you. I'll see you in recovery.'

Phil ran to his car and phoned Mike in route. "Dad, Carol changed her surgery she is having it at 3 today! Can you get there? I'm almost an hour away."

"Oh lord, Liz has my car; hers' is in the shop. I'll catch a taxi and meet you there. If her surgery is scheduled for 3, that means she's the last one of the day. They normal run late so we should have plenty of time to get there before she does something dumb."

"Dad, you are scaring me, I thought you said this was all a bluff."

"I know what I said. Did something happen between you two that might have changed her mind?"

"Well we did have jungle sex the last couple of nights."

"Were you or she the aggressor? If she has come to think of herself as the Alpha in your marriage, it may be the catalyst to push her into going through with this. You better get there as soon as you can and talk her out of this."

Phyllis drove like a mad woman. He ran every stop sign and only slowed for stop lights. The speed limits were mere suggestions as Phyllis raced through the late afternoon traffic.

Then it happened, a police car pulled in behind Phyllis's car and turned on its lights and siren. Phil screamed, "Shit, shit!" as he pounded the steering wheel in frustration.

He rolled down his window and reached for his purse to get his license. He was searching in the glove box for his registration when a familiar face appeared at the window. It was Officer Sanchez; Phyllis didn't wait to be asked and simply handed the documents to the officer. He scanned them and recognizing the picture on the driver's license, he looked up in surprise. "It's you Mrs. Turner, where's the fire?"

"I'm sorry I was speeding. It's my wife she is having surgery."

"Excuse me, did you say wife?"

"I'm a nervous wreck, what I meant to say was my husband's wife is having an emergency surgery. Realizing this wasn't any better he added my husband's first wife is having surgery."

Phyllis batted her eyelashes at the policeman and in her sexiest pleading voice said, "Can't you let me go this once? I'll come into the station and pay the fine and fill out the paper work later. Please."

Sanchez folded his ticket book away and said, "Nonsense, the city owes you for helping keep our streets crime free. What hospital is she at? I will give you a police escort to the front door. Just stay on my tail. I'll say a prayer for her at mass on Sunday. Now let's get going!"

The officer was a man of his word they pulled into the parking lot at 2:45. Phyllis parked in the first available spot, as chance would have it, it was a handicapped spot.

@ @ @ @

In room 834, Carol waited on her bed; the anesthesiologist was fiddling with her IV. Carol with a slurred voice asked, "Could I please speak to the doctor? There is something really important we need to discuss."

"Relax Mrs. Turner; it's natural to be nervous before any surgery. The doctor has everything under control. He'll speak to you in recovery."

He turned his attention to the IV and turned on the drip.

Carol tried to sit up and begged, "Please I must talk to him."

She closed her eyes, collapsed back into the bed and fought to not lose consciousness. The doctor whispered, "Now close your eyes you're in good hands. When you wake; you'll be a new person."

@ @ @ @

Phyllis rushed to the front desk and inquired on Carol's situation. It took the village idiot working the information desk 15 minutes to find Carol on his computer."

Finally he relayed that, "She's in room 834 waiting to go to surgery."

Phyllis ran to the bank of elevators and pushed the up button, and pushed it again and again. A ding sounded behind him and Phyllis scurried past a little old lady using a walker to catch the car before the doors closed. He pushed the 8th floor button. As chance would have it the car stopped on every floor.

Exiting on the 8th floor he scanned the signs announcing room numbers. His heart racing, he found a sign for 834. He pushed open the door expecting to find his wife. Instead he found an orderly cleaning the room. "Where's the woman who was in here?"

"I'm sorry madam, you just missed her; she was taken to surgery five minutes ago. The surgical waiting room is on the third floor. There is no telling what room she'll be assigned to for recovery."

The wailing could be heard on the 7th floor as Phyllis was led to the nurses' station and given a strong sedative.

TO BE CONTINUED:

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Phil fought his way slowly back to consciousness. He had only vague surreal thoughts coming and going into focus in his head. He couldn't quite put his finger on it; nothing hurt yet his body felt wrong somehow. His arms were pinned under the blankets, the feeling of being restrained was an irritant. The only logical explanation was that someone had tucked the blankets in too tight.

He shifted in bed trying to free his arms and noticed that his ass felt huge, like he was laying on a soft pillow. The slightest movement of his head brought a tickling sensation to both ears. Because his arms were pinned under the blankets he was unable to investigate. He moved his head and an annoying strand of hair fell across his face. He puckered his lips and with a single puff of air was able to blow it away. All this twitching made him aware there was a weight on his chest that was the most disconcerting. When he moved the weight seemed to shift with him. He didn't have a reasonable explanation for that.

The tactile impressions bombarding his senses were foreign. Not uncomfortable really, in fact there was a vague sense of pleasure associated with them.

Before he could explore his environment further, voices fought through the fog of his brain. His eyes seemed stuck so that they would not open. After working to get them open, he managed to get one eye open a crack.

He saw two men dressed in lab coats standing at the foot of the bed he occupied, going over a medical chart. One, presumably a doctor raised his voice, "Damnit Ron! Stop trying to run up your bill. This patient doesn't need any more tests. He isn't suffering from a concussion. I tell you I have seen this kind of thing before. It's a textbook case of hysterical amnesia. Tranquilizers and a few days bed rest is the only treatment needed."

As Phil waited for the two to leave, he struggled to remember how he got here. There were no memories of an accident involving his head he really had no head pain, so that only left some sort of a traumatic incident. As hard as he tried, he was unable to recall what event could have produced amnesia. Since he couldn't think his way out of his predicament, he decided to investigate his environment.

As a highly competent psychologist, Phil brought his logical abilities to bear. Without moving his head, he could see that it was obvious he was in a hospital somewhere. There was an empty bed to his right and an open door to a bathroom to his left. He tried to look past the foot of his bed but his vision was obstructed by a mound of blankets. He reasoned that this must be the weight he felt on his chest.

There was a strap across his chest that was keeping him from moving very well. The constriction of the strap combined with the blankets was what was making it difficult to move his hands and arms. After some struggle, he worked his arms free and found he could undo the strap across his chest. He forced himself up onto his elbows and caught a quick glimpse of a room full of women, all in hospital beds. He fell back bewildered as to why he would be in a ward full of women. Afraid that if one of them saw a man in the room there might be trouble, he fell back onto his pillow and tried to burrow into the sheets and blankets.

He really wanted to maintain a low profile until he could figure out why he was there and how he could leave. That became a lost cause when the familiar urge of a full bladder hit him like a sledge hammer. After lowering the safety rails on the bathroom side of the bed, he swung his legs onto the floor. To limit his exposure, he pushed himself into a standing position and scampered the two steps to the toilet. He slammed the door and collapsed against the inside, surprisingly fatigued from the effort.

That is when he experienced a true Twilight Zone moment. The strange weight on his chest was still there even without the blankets, as well as the gown he was wearing stood out away from his body. The only explanation for what was happening was that he was somehow hallucinating. That also had to be the reason for why he was wearing a pink hospital gown and why long blonde locks kept obscuring his vision. He felt week but didn't feel dizzy or as though he were under the influence of medication that would affect him that way.

When he reached up to his head and felt the mass of hair that crowned his head, he could only assume that he wore a wig for some reason. He took hold and pulled. The pain that followed let him know that they were somehow permanently attached to his scalp. Confusion really overtook his senses. He knew he needed a haircut; but his hair was certainly not blonde.

"What the fuck is going on?" he mumbled. The sound of his voice didn't sound right either. He thought back to what the doctor had said about a head injury and decided that must be the answer. Phil tried to relax and rationalized that his surroundings were a figment of his imagination, they only appeared real.

As a mental health professional, he was well acquainted with the symptoms of schizophrenia. He was obviously seeing things and if he started to hear imaginary voices he was going to check himself into a sanatorium.

His bladder issue threatened to spill over onto the floor, so he stumbled to the toilet before he had an accident. As he stood before the bowl, his center of balance seemed off. A glance down to make sure he was aiming correctly proved impossible as whatever was under his paper frock blocked his view. He really did not need to see what he was doing, so he stared straight ahead and pulled up his hospital gown, found his manhood by feel and aimed to where he thought was the center of the bowl and relieved himself. When he shook his customary three times, things again didn't seem right; he could swear his snake seemed more like an inchworm in his hand.

Having finished urinating, a rather perplexed Phil continued his trek along what was becoming the yellow brick road. Unable to see his feet, he advanced slowly as if feeling his way to the sink to wash his hands. Standing in front of the wash basin he raised his head and looked into the vanity mirror. What he saw gave him heart palpitations. Staring back at him through a concealing veil of hair was a person with long wavy blonde hair that fell across his eyes. To the sides, the tresses hung down to his shoulders. He reached up with both hands and tucked the locks behind his ears to clear his field of vision. What it revealed was again a shock. There were two ears gaily festooned by sparkling stud earrings. Phil knew he had never had his ears pierced. He gingerly felt each earring to check that they were in fact attached through a hole in his ear. The evidence before him was incontrovertible, he had three holes in each ear.

His methodical inspection process also exposed ten long fingernails painted a bright red color that matched perfectly the color on his now quivering plump lips. What he saw was the face of a woman looking like she was ready for a stage production of Cleopatra. The eyes were whorishly outlined in thick black liner which only served to accentuate the smoky gray eyeshadow. To make things worse, the eyes were topped by highly arched pencil thin eyebrows.

The image in the mirror just did not match what he knew had to be there. Phil became so pale even his rouged checks couldn't hide his pallor. His limbs trembled as if palsied, only by grabbing the sink was he able to keep from collapsing. He knew he was going crazy and shock was setting in.

His eyes fell to the gown that stood out from his chest. Based upon the available evidence, he suspected what he might find if he looked. He was terrified, but he had to know. He pulled the gown out away from his chest and discovered two breasts, encased in a lacy brassiere. Not just any breasts; but two of the biggest he had ever seen. He could see large dark areolas through the lace, surrounding nipples as thick as his pinkie.

He didn't know how; but he was sure someone was pulling a practical joke on him. The mounds on his chest had to be some sort of prosthetic glued in place. With quivering hands, he had to test his latest hypothesis, so he reached in and touched the mounds of flesh on his chest. When they touched back, he tore the gown open exposing his chest to find that his breasts were not glued on. His next search was between his legs, only to find that he might still have his bat but his balls were AWOL.

He slumped to the floor crying hysterically, "This isn't happening. I'm no fucking girl!"

It took two burly orderlies to subdue Phil and haul his hysterical body to the mental ward where he was again sedated. His first admittance had been under the name on his driver's license, Phyllis Darlene Brown. Despite his protestations to the contrary, that was how he was addressed for the remainder of his stay.

A quick physical examination revealed his male genitalia. The admitting had seen this type of reaction from other transsexuals who had second thoughts during transition. So he left strict instructions in his chart to only address the patient as Phyllis or Miss Brown and to treat the patient as a female.

Every time Phil tried to convince the staff there was a mistake and that he was a man, he was met with soothing voices and a sedative nap. He eventually gave up and accepted the situation for what it was.

After his three days of observation, Phyllis woke up in his bed. Happily, the restraints and catheter had been removed. Opening his eyes revealed his father in-law, Mike, standing over him.

The only thing Phil could choke out was the word, "Water."

Mike magically produced a Styrofoam cup of ice water. Phil downed it in one large gulp, like a parched man at a desert oasis. Refreshed, he started to hyperventilate.

Mike could see that Phil was moving toward overload so he shook Phil’s shoulder and asked, "What do you remember?"

Phil thought for a minute before answering, "My God, I was in the bathroom and found I swapped my balls for a set of boobs."

"Yes, that is all true. I meant what do you recall about being here in the hospital?"

Phil thought before he responded, "I don't remember it all; but I think I was too late to stop Carol from having her surgery. My lord it was SRS if I haven't completely lost it." Phil's eyes went wide in fear.

"How long have I been out? Where's Carol? Please tell me she isn't a he! Is that what this is all about? Someone has decided to trade my masculinity for her femininity?"

Mike's firm grip on his shoulder got his attention. "Relax everything's fine."

Phil managed to settle down somewhat, but only to be able to look at Mike. How could he deal with the fact that he hadn't saved his wife from destroying herself?

"How can you say that? I'm only half the man I once was and my wife is going the other way. This is so wrong!"

Mike smiled and held up a hand to stop another outburst.

"Let me try to explain," he said.

"I still have a number of contacts here in the hospital. When you called and told me that Carol was here, I knew that we couldn't get here in time to stop her from being taken to surgery. So I phoned ahead and had a long talk with her surgeon to explain the situation to him. After he consulted with her original doctor, he did just as we originally planned."

Phil blinked as he tried to process what Mike said. "Hold on there, Mike you lost me."

Mike leaned forward. "The idea was to teach Carol a lesson. Right? She told us she was going to give up her womanhood by having a double mastectomy. So to mimic that, we got her a breast lift. To let her think that her genitals had been operated on she had liposuction on her inner thighs. And the doctor performed a vaginoplasty. That is a procedure the doctor had talked to Carol about previously to tighten up her vagina. The discomfort from that will be convincing I would think. In lieu of a new masculine face, we gave her a face lift to go along with a new nose to correct the slight bump she has had since childhood.

Nothing outrageous. She'll actually come out of this more attractive than when she went in. She's so heavily bandaged and sore in all the right places that she won't figure out what we arranged for at least a few days.

"I’ve talked to her surgical nurse. Things went just like I predicted and she had a change of heart at the last minute. In Carol's case, it WAS too late because the anesthesiologist put her out before she could back out. She is going to think that this is her worst nightmare. She will believe she got exactly what she was threatening."

Mike paused in his narrative and said, "To cover the surgical staff and the hospital, they need to have you sign off on the forms authorizing them to have performed those procedures.” He smiled slightly as he continued, "It’s a bit poetic that you would be able to use your power of attorney over Carol in the same way she did with you."

Phil nodded in acknowledgement, slightly confused.

Mike pulled up a chair and sat next to his son-in-law's bed. "How much do you remember about the last few days?"

Phil thought for a minute or two. "I have vague recollections of Carol threatening to have a sex change. For the life of me I can't figure out why."

Mike frowned as he leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs.

"There's a lot that I need to tell you then and some of it is going to be difficult. So just make yourself comfortable because this is going to take a while." He sighed and began telling his story, "Carol found a stash of women's clothes you were storing for a transgender patient and jumped to the conclusion that they were yours."

Phil snorted, "That's ridiculous. How could she come to that conclusion?"

Mike nodded in agreement. "Well the way I understand it, she also found a notebook detailing how unhappy you are as a woman trapped in a man's body. That prompted her to hack into your laptop and looked at your recent google searches."

"Hold up, I remember that. The notebook wasn't mine that was a patient's diary I had him keep. The computer searches were research trying to understand his gender dysphoria."

Mike gave his new daughter a reassuring smile and went on, "Carol's mistake was not verifying the author of the notebook. Like she always does, she jumped to a conclusion, with dire consequences in your case.

"Anyway, right or wrong, she believed you wanted to be a woman. It is her assertion that what she did was done out of love. According to Carol, she was willing to make the sacrifice and give you want you wanted. Any of this sounding familiar?"

A tense feeling was forming in the pit of Phil’s stomach as his memory began to stir.

"It's starting to come back. How did she get me to agree to any of this?"

"She drugged you and took you to her surgery and performed a number of procedures. The breast augmentations being the most obvious. She also worked on your vocal cords to give you a more feminine tenor. As you woke up from surgery, she went further and had your makeup tattooed on, pierced your ears among other things."

Phil's memory was still fuzzy but starting to come back a little at a time. "That's what happened to my testes she took them from me! Didn't she also use her power of attorney to change my name?"

Mike nodded again with an unhappy frown. "I'm sorry; but that's right. As far as the world is concerned, you are now Phyllis Darlene Brown. Personally, I'm not crazy about the name Phyllis but Darlene has a nice ring to it, don't you think? But based upon the way you look now, a feminine name makes more sense."

Everything that he had been through for the past year or so was now crystal clear in Phil's memory. He might have come to an uneasy truce with what he had become, but he still was not ready to joke about it.

"Knock it off Mike, I don't think you're funny."

Mike reached over and held Phyllis' hand. "Since you are still technically a male, your marriage remains intact. The relationship between you and I is a little confusing to me and we've never really discussed it, but as far as I can see, you are now technically my daughter-in-law.

"I know that the old Phil was never comfortable doing it, but it would mean a lot to me if you would call me Dad. We can just drop that in-law crap and you can be my second daughter."

Phyllis began to cry. Embarrassed, he apologized for his outburst.

Mike said, "Don't worry about it. It's probably just the hormones."

"What hormones? Carol took my boys."

"Yes, that's true. She confessed to me she implanted experimental slow release female capsules to compensate for what you lost. If they perform as the manufacturer promises, they will mimic the female cycle. You are spared periods and cramps; however, it is my understanding that PMS will be a monthly visitor. Meaning that every 28 days, you will have to put up with bloating, tender breasts and wild mood swings.

"I'll always be there for you. You are my daughter after all. That's what fathers do."

Phil looked at Mike and saw something in his expression. "Dad there's something you're not telling me."

Mike couldn't look Phil in the eyes and said, "Yes I did my own research on those hormones. There's a chance they will cause additional breast growth."

"OMG they are huge already. What kind of a chance?"

"It's just a slim chance. I just wanted to warn you. In case you wondered about your bra's becoming too tight."

The two hugged and Phyllis sniffled and wiped his nose on the back of his hand and said, "Thanks Dad. I guess forewarned is forearmed."

A nurse brought in a tray of food. Phil sat up in bed and the two shared the typically bland hospital meal. As Phil ate the last of his green Jell-O, he considered their plan to punish Carol. He'd fooled her into believing he had been with a man. And how he and Chris had pretended to be intimate. He could see that he really hadn't thought this thing all the way through.

He crossed his arms where they snuggled nicely under his female enhanced endowments. "Dad, what do we do now?"

Mike sat back again and looked thoughtful. "We'll let her stew for a couple of days, it's time she paid the piper for her past arrogance. When they change her bandages we will have to let her know the truth. By then she will have learned a valuable lesson."

"When can I see her? We need to have a talk."

"Slow down. She must believe she has gone through a rather severe surgery. We will wait until tomorrow to see her. First, we need to get you out of here. As your therapist of record, I should be able to make that happen. It may take a while. Why don't you relax?"

The paperwork took a lot longer than Phil liked; but it allowed him plenty of time to think.

He mulled over the anger that he felt at his wife for taking such cavalier liberties with his body. She took his manhood away. His first reaction had been to leave her. But where would a half woman, half man go? If he was just a normal appearing woman, he could just blend into society. No, that hadn't been good enough for Carol. She had given him outlandish Barbie Doll dimensions that would make him the center of attention anywhere he tried to go.

He raged at his body and held Carol solely responsible. The memory of dejection, hurt and most of all sadness came flooding back to him. He recalled wanting to hate her for what she did, but he couldn't maintain the vehemence. He still loved Carol and that love kept getting in the way. The depression that he had dealt with worked against that love at the same time and he'd gone through a period of feeling empty.

Even though it had not been Carol's intention; through honest, objective reflection, Phil came to recognize that his practice skyrocketed mainly because of his new form. His reputation as a transsexual shrink spread though San Francisco communities faster than a jungle telegraph.

Deep down, he resented looking like a hardcore porn star; but he had always been a glass half full person so like the prayer says, 'God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change. The courage to change the things I can. And the wisdom to know the difference.'

It hadn't been an easy journey and Carol's father, Mike, had helped him with counselling to deal with the anger and depression. Once his pent-up anger slowly turned to acceptance, he was able to reach a level of serenity and contentedness.

Waiting for his release found him practically bored to tears, after all psych wards do not put televisions in the rooms. He sat in his bed and tried to find his happy place. He looked up when two nurses that looked young enough to be candy strippers showed up at his door.

"Hello Miss Phyllis, we hear you're to be released. It's our job to get you ready to go home. First, we're going to bathe you. Then Sally here will fix your hair while I give you a manicure."

Phyllis enjoyed the pampering, especially the shampoo and scalp massage. He was really relaxed until the sponge bath got to his genitals. He was concerned how his little man would respond to a soapy wash by two giggling girls. He was thankful nothing happened. Unfortunately, his sensitive breasts seemed to make up for the lack of response of his lower body. His nipples popped up like they had been shot from a cannon. Interestingly, his little man appeared to be hooked in with his breasts as it took to flight as well. A deft tug on the sheets managed to hide that fact.

The girls were very efficient, with the aid of a curling iron Sally had his hair untangled and in long luxurious curls in no time. She put a light coat of hairspray to hold everything in place just as Rose put the topcoat on his nails.

The two girls stood back to admire their work before they walked Phil to the mirror to get his approval. He gushed at his appearance, they had toned down his tarty look and he now appeared merely glamorous. Phil thought, 'If I must be a woman this is the one I want to be.'

He hugged both ladies and they responded with a series of air kisses in return.

Mike came in with gifts just as the girls are leaving. He carried two shopping bags from an upscale boutique in each hand, it looked like he was late because he had gone shopping.

"I took the clothes that you were admitted in into the store so that they could help me with your sizes." Mike said. "It's the first time in my life that I ever went dress shopping." He grinned at the how he must have looked to people as he passed judgment on dresses and shoes for Phyllis.

Phyllis pulled out a smock sundress with a tropical print that looked like it might be nice.

Seeing what Phyllis was looking at, Mike said, "They assured me that would be figure-flattering for a woman with your stature."

Mike held up a pair of shoes that had been suggested as complementing the dress, he was unsure of the reception he would receive. To his surprise, the gifts earned him a huge smile followed by a hug and a kiss on the cheek. An embarrassed Mike handed his newest daughter a separate bag containing fresh underwear, including a support bra, silk panties, and a new pair of pantyhose.

The two nurses had lingered at the door long enough to watch Phyllis's reaction. When he literally jumped for joy. Sally turned to Rose and whispered, "That is the first time I have ever played with a guy's joy stick and got no response."

Rose smiled in response, "I know, but based upon his reaction over the new dress, there is no question in my mind about whether he is a she. The shopping gene doesn’t just grow; you have to have it in the first place." Sally frowned at the comment before she caught on. Phyllis might be part man and part woman on the outside, but she was all woman on the inside.

Mike waited in the hall while Phyllis got dressed and then followed hospital protocol by wheeling Phyllis out to his car in a wheelchair. The drive home was in total silence. Mike walked Phyllis to his front door and said, "I'll pick you up after work. You, Liz, and I can all go in to see Carol together."

It was a sleepless night for Phil. He tossed and turned all night long. Twice he had to get out of bed to untangle his long nightgown.

@ @ @ @

The day at work dragged on and Phil spent his free time worrying about the visit that was coming with Carol. He ruined a perfectly good manicure by biting his nails. The random thought popped into his brain, 'It will take a trip to the salon to get all this damage repaired.'

Mike and Liz pulled into the parking lot right at quitting time. Phyllis, wearing a cozy and comfy yellow sweater dress, was standing on the curb waiting impatiently. He climbed into the back only to find he was sharing it with a hanging clothes carrier. "Dad, what's the bag for?"

"Oh that's a change of clothes for my other daughter," Mike said with a light tone to his voice. It promised humor and mischief at the same time.

Phyllis looked at the garment inside and said, "What's strange is that it looks like a man's suit."

"It is. That is what Carl will be wearing home, and wait until she sees what I have waiting for her. I took all her girlie clothes that she has at our house and moved them to storage. Her closet is full of Marlboro man outfits…plaid wool shirts and corduroy pants. I also replaced her underwear with men's t-shirts and tighty whitie underpants."

At that, Liz broke down in tears. Mike was rather callous towards his wife as he said, "Get over it Liz. Your daughter is getting just what she deserves, look what she did to our son-in-law. This is just karma. If we are lucky, she'll learn from this and become a better person when it's over."

Liz said nothing in response, which did not surprise Phyllis. There had been enough said between Carol's parents about their daughter's behavior and Phyllis knew that Liz thought that Carol was her angel. Mike had pointed out that Carol's actions could only be regarded as criminal, which Liz could not defend.

All Liz did was ferret through her purse to find a bottle of Xanax pills. She dry swallowed a couple of tablets and Mike reached over to take the bottle out of her hand. He put it in his coat pocket and glanced at her to make sure that she was okay. In a matter of minutes, Liz began to smile happily as the drugs kicked in. Both Mike and Phil took that as a good sign.

@ @ @ @

Mike pulled into one of the parking spots set aside for patient pickup. Like the gentleman he was, he opened his wife's door and helped her out. The he did the same for Phyllis. Phyllis removed the garment bag with Carol's suit and folded it over his arm. The trio headed for the front doors, with Mike maintaining a light hold on Liz's arm because of her medicated condition. Phyllis followed a step or two behind them, looking at the hospital building that loomed above them. It was understandable that he felt more than a little anxiety, he did not have fond memories of this place.

The parade made its way to Carol's private room, having privileges at the hospital had some perks after all.

Carol was propped in bed, obviously waiting for her family. Her appearance was somewhat grotesque, but it was understandable considering the surgical procedures she had experienced. Phyllis came to a stop as he came through the door, looking at Carol’s black eyes and puffy face that she had received as a result of the rhinoplasty. It’s amazing how medical steps intended to help a patient seem to actually make things worse before things get better. The three of them filed into the room with Mike taking a position at the end of the bed while Liz and Phil took up flanking positions on either side.

Her dad looked down at her and asked, "Hi, honey. How did it go?"

"Far worse than I expected; but I'm man enough to handle it!" She responded with a defiant stare. With a slight quiver she added, "I wouldn't want to go through that again. I feel like I was dragged through broken glass after having been roasted on a spit."

That response reduced Liz to a pitiful puddle as the waterworks started again. Mike took the pills from his pocket and gave two more to his wife. Then he turned to Carol, "Honey, the good news is that's a once-in-a lifetime event. You have traveled on a one-way street and there's no going back." At this point, shading the truth was necessary.

Phil had a hard time keeping his emotions in check watching the despair play across on his wife's face.

Carol as was her want, took to the offensive when she felt attacked.

"Daddy, you old geezer, who says I want to go back? What I've done was to show Phil how sorry I am. Since he can't go back it is only fair I can't either." She looked at Phil and smiled. "I've always loved Phil. Over the last few weeks I have found I love Phyllis even more. This way we are still husband and wife, our roles have simply been reversed. In fact, I can hardly wait to get Phyllis home and make her my bitch and prove to you all I can be a better man than Phil ever was!" Phyllis knew full well that Carol’s crudeness as an act as she did not speak that normally. He couldn’t believe that she actually thought like that.

Liz, now recovered from her brief trip on the crazy train, pushed Mike and Phyllis out the door saying, "You two get out of here. I want to spend some time with my daughter."

Mike bit his tongue, wanting to twist the knife by commenting, 'You mean your son.' Instead, he took Phyllis by the hand and said, "Come on. Let's go get a drink. I'll buy you a beer."

Phil responded, "Thanks Dad, I can really use a drink. But if it's all the same to you, I'd rather have a glass of wine."

Mike gave Phil an eye roll and said, "Whatever."

As they drove out of the parking lot, Phil said, "Please Dad, not back to your sports bar. I'm not ready for round two."

Mike took the hint and drove to a quiet cocktail longue nearby where he parked in a well-lit spot right next to the front door. Mike walked them into the quiet lounge and took a table off to the side where they could talk. Mike ordered his beer and Phyllis decided to have a glass of Chardonnay that he found quite delightful. They both quickly finished their first drinks. A pretty young waitress arrived to take their refill order. Phil watched Mike flirt with her. He reflected on the fact he would have done the same only a few months earlier. Now he was more likely to flirt with the handsome bartender, even if he wasn't sexually attracted to him. It wasn't until he had drained his second glass that Phil began to relax.

Phil leaned across the table and asked, "Dad, you've had a lot more experience in this area than I have. Can a person be a man and a woman at the same time?"

Mike pushed his empty glass to the side and answered, "As you know, biologically you can be only one or the other, but I suspect that isn't what you're talking about. Psychologically, you are who you are. No matter what the external packaging is."

Frustrated, Phil asked, "Then why do I feel so different when I'm in a dress? The scary part is the prettier I look the more feminine I feel."

At that instant, Mike's phone rang and he listened to whoever was talking. He put his phone away without saying a word. He waved down their waitress and asked for their bill. He turned to Phil and said, "That was Liz, it seems she and Carol got into it and the hospital staff had to separate them. We need to get back there before they kill each other."

"What was the fight over?"

"From what I gather, Carol told Liz she intended to fire the gardener and do all the yardwork herself. That freaked out Mother." As they walked back to the car, Mike said, "Now back to your issue. Why don't you stop by my den in a few days and we can examine your predicament in detail?"

When they got back to the hospital, Phil elected to remain in the car. Mike went in to collect his other two women.

Phil spent the time people watching. He found himself closely scrutinizing the women, more so than the men. There was a difference that he knew was there, but it was not immediately apparent. It took him several minutes to realize just what was bothering him.

Most woman today tended to dress down. It would seem women in general had traded feminine fashions for comfort. He saw ten ladies in slacks and loafers for every one that wore a skirt. Finding a woman wearing high heels during the day was nigh onto impossible.

Phil saw a steady stream of men in his practice all wanting to present as woman. He came to the realization most men trying to pass as a women tended to exaggerate their dress and mannerisms. They would willingly suffer through hours of agony in corsets and pointy toed stilettos chasing their dream of femininity. But he could see that they had it all wrong.

In the day-to-day world, women appeared to want to look and dress more like men with no repercussions, while society cast aspersions on men who wanted to look feminine. Even a man caught wearing a pink dress shirt had his sexual orientation questioned. Phil wondered about this phenomenon and thought it had the making of an excellent paper. He decided to get Mike's professional opinion on it when he had time.

Mike returned with only Liz in tow. Because of her emotional outburst, the hospital required Carol stay overnight for further evaluation.

Carol took a taxi home the next day. She had moved into the spare bedroom by the time Phyllis came home from work. The door was locked and she refused to respond to Phil's persistent knocking. Over the next few days, she kept the door locked most of the time. On the rare occasions that he did see his wife, his heart went out to her. She looked so miserable and he wanted so badly to tell her that her life had not been changed irrevocably.

@ @ @ @

Phyllis was cleaning up in the kitchen when he heard Carol close the front door. She had insisted upon keeping her appointment with her surgeon on her own, even though Phyllis had offered to take her. In a rare conversation, Carol had shared that she was dealing with persistent pain in her groin and chest areas. The fact that she had not called him told Phyllis that the doctor’s assessment of her recovery had been positive.

Mike's plan was to let her stew in her own juices but Phil just didn't have the stomach for it any more. Coming out of the kitchen, he asked her to sit down for a chat. He told her everything he and Mike had done. An expression of incredulity crossed her face. She folded her arms across her chest and said, "You did what? How dare you treat me that way?"

With that, she stormed out of the living room and went to her room, slamming the door. Thus began an uneasy truce between them, the bathroom and kitchen becoming a de facto DMZ. Carol would not leave her room except for bathroom breaks and Phyllis made only occasional overtures of peace. There were lots of please and thankyou's, but neither appeared ready to sit down and actually communicate.

The dynamic changed when two packages were delivered for Carol, things she had purchased using her smart phone and she had shipped overnight. After signing for them, Phil brought them in to Carol. She tore the brown paper wrapping off the first package to reveal a box gift wrapped underneath.

Carol surprised her husband by patting the bed next to her and saying, "Phyllis, sit."

Phil plopped himself down on the bed and got comfortable.

Carol glared at him and said, "I asked Phyllis to sit. Now get up and do it like a lady!"

Phil was caught off guard. He stood smoothed his skirt and daintily sat and crossed his legs as ladylike as he could. Carol handed him the package and said, "Here this is for you."

Phil unwrapped the package and removed the top of the box. What he found set his heart racing. It was a sexy lace baby doll sortie nightie in dark peach mesh with gorgeous grey lace cups. It was probably the most erotic sleepwear Phil had ever seen. However, he thought whoever wore that wouldn’t be getting a lot of sleep. He said, "This can’t be for me."

Carol simply smiled and replied, "It most definitely is. The other box is a surprise we both can enjoy. The doctors tell me I will be strong enough for sex in a week."

Phil stood and in a very feminine gesture held the garment to his chest. It was apparent that it was too short as it ended halfway between his bellybutton and his groin. He searched through the box looking for the matching panties he was sure would be there. Finding nothing but tissue paper he asked. "The nightie doesn’t even come low enough to hide my private parts. Where is the bottom half?"

Carol gave her husband a sultry look and said, "Exactly as I planned, it allows for easy access."

She pulled out the contents of the second box. It was a strap on dong. Phil gasped and mentally clutched his butt cheeks. It was the largest he had ever seen. It was obvious to him what Carol had in mind. She took his hand and laid the artificial phallus in the palm of his hand. "Feel! It is so very life like. I can hardly wait to test drive it."

Cotton-mouthed, Phil said, "It's so large!"

"I know I hope you don't mind. I think size does matter. I am optimistic you will enjoy it as much as I do."

At that, Phil snapped and walked out of the room saying, "You're crazy if you think you are using that on me."

As the door slammed shut, Carol managed to get out, "You don't understand! It is for you to use on me."

@ @ @ @

Phil was furious, the thought of being used in that way solely for another person's pleasure was abhorrent to him. Maybe if things between them were better he wouldn't feel so upset.

He barely paused on the way out as he snatched his purse and decided to take a drive to calm down. As he sat in traffic waiting for the light to change, a carload of teenage boys pulled up next to him. Even with his window rolled up, he could plainly hear their catcalls. He merely turned up the volume on his radio.

As he slowly worked his way through the heavy Friday night traffic, he contemplated on why he had reacted so vehemently to Carol's suggestion. Being fucked, even by his wife, was too much for his manhood to take at this point. Then he realized if he was being totally honest, there was some part of him that was curious as what it would be like to totally surrender to Carol.

That part scared him. He had recently been having concerns about his true sexuality. As he drove, he found his route had brought him near the city's best known gentleman’s club 'Pandora’s Box' that advertised the most beautiful women. He made a split second decision to test his sexuality. He pulled into the parking lot and boldly walked to the front door. The doorman took one look at the busty beauty entering and he said, "I'm sorry tryouts for new dancers are Wednesdays."

Phil again became indignant and angrily told the man, "I'm not here looking for a job. I merely want to watch the show."

The man apologized for offending her and waived the cover charge. He called for a server and told her to show the lady to the reserved table right next to the stage. Phyllis thanked him and followed the scantily clad girl to the designated table.

Phil got comfortable and ordered a drink. He sipped his cocktail and watched a series of attractive women dance mere inches from his face. He wasn't trying to be egotistical or arrogant but he realized that Carol had done such a terrific job on him, he had a better body than anyone on the stage. He didn't have the dance moves but he would win hands down in a beauty contest.

None of the woman did anything for him. Which strengthened the possibility that maybe Phyllis was attracted to men. Since he was not tipping the girls lost interest and stopped giving him attention. He was working on his second drink when an attractive man took a seat at her table uninvited.

He introduced himself as George, the club manager. He told Phil he had been watching her and then he extended an invitation for a private audition in his office. Phil found the offer amusing, but not tempting. George tried to persuade him saying he would give Phyllis top billing and make her his headliner. He tried to impress Phyllis by telling her how much money she could make.

Phil smiled at what he was sure were exaggerated figures and told, "George no thank you, I couldn't afford the pay cut." That took the wind out of the man's sails. George wasn't easily discouraged and proceeded to ask Phyllis out for a date. When he again declined, George slipped her his business card. As he did so he said, "The club's business number is on the front if you ever need a job. If you reconsider about the date, my private cell number is on the back."

Phil smiled at him and took out her wallet paid for her drinks. As Phil made his way back to his car, he considered the ramifications of pretty, naked young woman doing nothing for him. Empirical evidence indicated that maybe he really was attracted to men. Getting into the car, he used his phone to find directions to the local Chippendales club.

In direct contradiction to his experience at the club he had just left, he was required to pay the outrageous cover charge to get in. He took a seat toward the near side which provided him a clear shot at an exit. The show started with real fanfare. The women in the audience were even more obnoxious than their male counter parts. They threw themselves at the performers along with handfuls of cash. There was a two drink minimum so Phil thought what the hell and ordered two double strength screwdrivers and sat back as a detached observer.

A mild alcohol buzz settled over him when the house lights suddenly went dark and there was an announcement, "One lucky lady had been selected for a private lap dance. She is located in seat 35 B." Phil was almost blinded by the spotlight shining on him. The women around him went bananas.

Before he knew what hit him, Phil was forcibly ushered to a room in the rear of the club. The door was closed and he was told to enjoy and that no one would disturb the performance. Phyllis sat in the only chair in the room. After a few moments, a man whose features were chiseled out of stone stepped in through a side door. His muscles seemed to have had developed muscles. He wore a white cowboy hat, a black bowtie, chaps all complimented by snakeskin cowboy boots and spurs.

His performance began with several feet between them. His body swayed and gyrated in such a way to call attention to his well-developed body and the parts that were concealed by what little clothing he wore. His dance seemed intended to afford Phyllis with glances of what was hidden without revealing anything.

By the time the dance ended, he was about two feet from Phyllis. His finale consisted of pulling his chaps off with one hand as the other hand covered his manhood with the hat. Phil still only caught a glimpse of his equipment, but a better look than he had gotten previously. The thought that raced through his mind was, 'Now I know where they got the mold for Carol's dildo.'

The dancer proceeded to hang the hat on his pole as he moved about the room in a seductive manner. After several minutes, he approached Phyllis and straddled his lap. He pulled away the hat and waved his thing back and forth to the rhythmic music under Phil's nose.

Phil sat awestruck unsure of what to do. If he moved his head a millimeter it would come in contact with the monster cock. Phil regained his senses and managed to push the behemoth off his lap. Grabbing his purse, he retreated to the car. He sat there for what seemed like forever as the parking lot emptied out.

He tried to make sense of his experiences. He now knew with total certainty that naked men were not his cup of tea. Yet the naked woman didn't float his boat either. He began to think he might be asexual. However, he realized when he had dreams at night they always involved Carol. What this all meant was beyond his capacity to consider especially after four strong drinks. He decided to pay Mike a visit first thing in the morning to sort this thing out.

He cautiously drove home and snuck in as quiet as a church mouse until he tripped over the throw rug in the living room. He angrily threw his purse on the coffee table. He passed the bedroom Carol was using and noted that the door was closed. He didn’t even bother to stop as he went on to bed in the master suite.

@ @ @ @

Carol woke to a clear sunny day. She put on her terrycloth bathrobe and went looking for her husband, hoping to clear up the misunderstanding. She saw the bedroom door was closed and decided to make coffee before trying to reopen the lines of communication. She saw Phyllis's purse on the table, part of its contents fallen to the floor. She stopped to pick things up. The one item that got her attention was a glossy card from Pandora's Box featuring a semi clad woman with humongous hooters.

Carol was furious that her husband would go to a strip club for companionship. If he wanted to regain his masculinity, why wouldn't he come to her? As she threw the card down on the table, she noticed handwriting on the back. Out of curiosity, she picked it up and read what was written on it. The handwriting was hard to decipher, but she could make out a phone number proceeded by a note of, 'When you’re ready for our date give me a call.' It was signed ‘Kisses, George’.

Her anger was mingled with a deep feeling of confusion. She wasn't a mental health expert, but it was obvious that her husband was having a hard time deciding which side of the gender divide he was more comfortable with. That really complicated how she was going to win his love back. Her anger was forgotten as she sat at the kitchen table and sipped her morning coffee while she went through her possible alternatives.

Should she be a submissive, meek and mild, lovey-dovey house wife? That was a role she wasn't comfortable playing. Besides, she had tried that once in an attempt to win Phil back and Phyllis had not responded to it. Or was Phyllis looking for a loving lipstick lesbian as his equal partner? She thought she could happily settle into that persona.

They could maintain a platonic, sisterly relationship. But Carol rejected that solution outright. She still loved him too much to totally give up a physical relationship.

From the dark recesses of her mind came the vision of being a female dominatrix to her husband. Sadly, she admitted that it was a role that fit her personality. Then a shiver went down her spine as a fresh thought struck her. God help her me if he wanted to be the domme. If that was the case, she would have to just let him go.

The best possible outcome might be to maintain their status quo. Where they remained a couple and occasionally enjoyed marital relations, while each maintained their professional careers.

Her train of thought was disturbed when she heard Phyllis stirring and the toilet being flushed. Carol knew she should sit down and talk the options over with her housemate/husband. She rejected that route out of hand. She was convinced she knew what was best for Phyllis. He might have the body of a lingerie model, but he still had the pea brain of a man. Besides he was confused right now, why clutter his brain with more decisions?

Carol got up and filled a cup for her husband. She had just put it on the table when Phyllis staggered into the kitchen, obviously suffering from a headache as he held his head with his manicured hands. He sat and asked where the aspirin bottle was.

Carol handed him the bottle she took from a drawer and asked if he wanted breakfast and she got, "Oh god no."

Carol smiled and recognized the obvious signs of a hangover. Hoping to get some explanation on his exploits the previous evening, she asked brightly, "Too much partying last night?"

Phyllis slowly shook his head. "No, it's just a touch of the flue, I’m calling the office and I’m taking the day off."

Each sat and finished their caffeine fix in a tense silence. Carol stood and placed the two empty mugs in the sink and left to get dressed. She had a long list of patients waiting for her.

Phil moped around the kitchen until his wife was gone. He retrieved his phone from his purse and called Mike wanting to know if he could come over. Mike agreed, saying he would make the time for his favorite daughter.

@ @ @ @

It took Phyllis the better part of an hour to look presentable. His best efforts couldn't hide the bloodshot eyes and bags under them.

He found Mike home alone, Liz was out somewhere. He sat in a hard back chair in Mike's office before he launched into a description of his actions of the previous evening, leaving nothing out. Mike leaned back in his chair with a well-practiced blank inscrutable expression.

When Phil was done, he simply looked up at Mike and saw him scribbling frantically in a note book. He asked Mike, "Well, what do you think I should do?"

Mike put it right back on Phil, "What do you think you should do?"

Phil was looking for advice, not psychotherapy. He pleaded with Mike to help.

Mike sat up in his chair and went back to his notebook and continued to take notes.

"Phil, it is obvious you are conflicted concerning your future and who you really are. You have been through so much in the last few months that it's no wonder. I am in no position to advise you on whether your future involves dresses or pants. That is a question only you can answer."

Mike tented his fingers and rested his chin on them as he looked at Phil, "All is not lost. I can help. There is this test that can identify where on the gender spectrum you fall. It will take almost an hour. I think it would be beneficial, at a minimum it will give you some empirical data to help base your decision on."

Phil nodded his consent, then asked if he was going to receiving the friends and neighbors discount on Mike's time.

Mike took that small joke as a good sign and handed Phil the test while he went and made coffee for the two of them.

When Phil took a sip of his, it was immediately obvious Mike had added spirits to the beverage.

Phil was emotionally exhausted by the time the assessment was completed. This time, Mike brought back a glass of Irish whiskey without being polluted with coffee. Mike wasn't going to let Phil leave in the emotional state he was in, so he thought nothing of dosing Phil with alcohol. For his part, Phil sat and enjoyed the slow relaxing glow that overtook him. He was on his second glass by the time Mike had finished tabulating the results.

Phil waited with bated breath for the results. Infuriatingly, Mike sat studying the paper in front of him. His hand was rubbing his chin and nothing but, 'hum' and 'that's interesting' came from his mouth. Finally shuffling the pile of papers together and fastening them with a paper clip he stood.

He walked over and paused behind Phyllis. He pushed aside his long hair and started rubbing his shoulders and finally broke his silence. "Honey, you are not going to like this. The test is inconclusive. There is definitely a strong feminine component to your personality, but not an overriding one. The one thing I am sure of is that Phil is not gay. Phyllis, on the other hand, if that is the way you decide to go is strongly leaning that way."

Phyllis frowned and turned to face Mike. "Dad, what are you telling me?"

Mike smiled and said, "The psychological effects of massive dosages of hormones on a person can be insidious. Aside from the obvious physical effects, evidence indicates it influences a person’s mental outlook. Using a sports analogy, from a mental standpoint you can be a true switch hitter, you can swing from both sides. The way I read your test results, I believe you can find sexual gratification from partners of both sexes. So to speak, it opens up the entire playing field when looking for sexual companions. The final decision is still in your hands. If you elect to be masculine, I'll refer you to a top notch endocrinologist. She is the best in her field and drugs might be able to give back some of what Carol took away."

Phyllis stood and found himself a tad unsteady on his feet, he had to grab the back of his chair for stability. Mike continued, "On the other hand, if you decide to stay as a woman, I would recommend you don't take half measures. Get the surgery and do it right."

This newsflash instigated a maelstrom in Phyllis's head. He completely lost it and broke down in a torrent of tears. Mike rushed over to where Phyllis was standing and held Phyllis in his arms and let the emotional tsunami pass.

Once in Mike's arms, Phyllis folded like a wet noodle. His chin lolled onto his chest as he blacked out and Mike was the only thing keeping him from sliding to the floor. Mike was not as young as he used to be. His strength failed, and the he crumpled backward into the chair. Phyllis landed in his lap, reflexively his arms encircled Mike's neck while Mike wrapped his arms around Phyllis's waist to keep him from crashing to the floor. Phyllis embraced Mike; but his head flopped backward. Phyllis started to sob again, and began to slip off Mike's lap. Mike did the natural thing and with both arms around his new daughter's waist pulled him back. This forced Phyllis's face to flop forward and into contact with Mike's.

That is when Liz walked into the room, seeing what she thought was her husband in a lip lock with her son-in-law. She took a deep breath and screamed, "Mike how could you?" Then fainted dead away.

Mike found himself caught between the proverbial rock and a hard place.

The 'woman' on his lap was comatose from emotional strain. She was total dead weight and Mike was unable to lift her.

His wife was passed out on the floor. He knew if he didn't go to her there would hell to pay.

He did the only thing he could think of. He slid his legs apart and let Phyllis gently slide to the floor where he was between his legs. As Mike stood up to go to Liz, she chose that moment to regain consciousness. From her perspective, Phil now had his face buried in her husband's crotch. This was more than she could take and she fainted again.

To be continued:

Mike found himself caught between the proverbial rock and a hard place.

The 'woman' on his lap was comatose from emotional strain. She was total dead weight and Mike was unable to lift her.

His wife was passed out on the floor and he knew if he didn't go to her there would hell to pay.

Mike realized that to someone just walking into the room, it would be a very compromising tableau. It wasn’t and he needed to put things back to a normal appearance.

He did the only thing he could think of. He slid his legs apart and let Phyllis gently slide to the floor where he was between his legs. As Mike stood up to go to Liz, she chose that moment to regain consciousness. From her perspective, Phil now had his face buried in her husband's crotch. This was more than she could take and she fainted again.

Mike managed to untangle himself from Phyllis and rested her head on the seat. He went to his wife and carried her to the couch. Then he hurried to his medicine cabinet and retrieved the smelling salts.

Entering his study, he was at a crossroads. Which patient should he revive first? If he woke Liz first, she would have a million questions and an unconscious Phyllis might only complicate things. Actually, the presence of Phyllis at all would be a problem, so he left his wife slumbering on the couch and his feminized son-in-law asleep on the floor while he called for a taxi.

Once the taxi was on its way, he went to Phyllis and gave her a good whiff of the ammonium carbonate. Phyllis was alert almost immediately. With Mike's help, he got to his feet and asked, "What happened?"

"It's my guess you had a panic attack, caused by persistent anxiety. It's either that or you're pregnant." Joked Mike.

Mike’s attempt at humour fell flat as Phyllis made a face and said, "Dad, that's not funny. I’ll talk to you later. I'm out of here, I have patients waiting."

"SIT DOWN! You are in no shape to drive, I've called you a cab. Liz and I will drop your car off later."

Once he had Phyllis safely in the cab, Mike headed back into the house. His plan was to wake Liz and explain things. He just hoped that he would never have to explain why he left them both lying there for so long, but he prayed that neither of them would have a memory of the incident.

Mike waited until Phyllis had made a clean getaway before bringing his wife around. Once Liz was revived, she was shaken at what she thought she had seen. Without breaking patient confidentiality, it took Mike the better part of an hour to convince his wife what she had seen was innocuous. Liz eyed her husband skeptically. But reluctantly accepted his explanation that Phyllis simply had too much to drink; but made a mental note to talk with Carol about her husband’s daytime drinking. It was bad enough that her son-in-law was parading around like a tarted up floozy. There was no way she was going to stand for any hillbilly romance between Phil and her husband. What would the neighbours think of her husband being involved with a Hermaphrodite?

@ @ @ @

Despite what he had said to Mike Phil had no intentions of going back to work. There was no way he could sit and listen to other people talk about their lives while his was so discombobulated. He went home and could feel the chill in the air as Carol gave him 'the look'. So he blew past her with only a nod and locked himself into his bedroom to settle in for some real soul searching.

When the tantalizing aroma of freshly baked sweet rolls and dark coffee permeated all the way to his refuge. He couldn’t resist and came out to eat. He sat across from Carol who had the paper spread out on the table. He held his cup of coffee in one shaky hand. He was not normally a drinker and he was felling the aftereffects of his alcoholic consumption. He tried to push through his slight hangover and was occupied feeding the hot pastry delight into his mouth.

The vibration of his cell phone called for his grudging attention. He glanced at a text message from his receptionist complaining about the flood of phone calls from people requesting appointments. She added a post script that his office was mobbed, it was standing room only. He was bewildered by his sudden popularity.

His confusion began to clear when Carol showed him the newspaper article. The San Francisco Chronicle Magazine section had a front page spread on the area’s most successful transgender psychotherapist. It seemed that he had been selected as the Transgender Person of the Year. The paper only had a grainy out-of-focus picture of him in silhouette that made his face hard to identify. However, it did capture him in his favourite form fitting lilac dress. The paper had an accurate description of his profession qualification. It didn’t elaborate, rather it tended to focus on as they called it, his ‘exquisite figure’

In the past few months, Phyllis had gained a reputation among his patients and prospective patients as being very competent as well as being built like a ‘brick shit house’. He had been recognized a few times when he was out and about in public, more often than not it was his Rubenesque physique rather than his face that people recalled. The only good news is that he still had his privacy at home. His status as a man in transition was no secret to his patients or anyone in the LGBT community, it had become general knowledge among the tightknit transsexual population. Not that it really mattered much to the general populace, particularly in San Francisco.

While Phil was not all that concerned about having his secret of being a feminized male known, it was something that he was perfectly happy to not bandy about. He turned his attention to the newspaper. The article didn’t identify who he had been before his transition, which was all he really cared about. However, it did list his office name and address. The reason for the flood of new perspective patients was suddenly clear.

@ @ @ @

It had come as a total surprise when Carol had shown him the newspaper article as it wasn’t something that he had been competing for and he would not have volunteered for it if he had a choice. Phil was honoured; but didn’t think much more about it, other than he would need a new dress for the awards banquet. Little did he realize the life changing ramifications of his being outed in such a public way.

The practice that he shared with others was suddenly even more popular than it had been before. While there were requests to see Doctor Brown, new patients were willing to see his co-workers as long as they had a chance to consult with him as well. All the publicity had a positive effect on Phil. He was so busy he seldom had time for lunch, he dropped a full dress size.

During one of the breaks he was able to get between his appointments, Phil reviewed messages that had come in while he was busy. The first was from Josephine Morton who was transitioning from Edward and she needed some reinforcement in her confidence. Phil didn’t mind, that was his job and he found that he enjoyed helping his patients find their way. The second message was from a local journalist who wanted an interview as part of Doctor Phyllis Brown's selection as Transgender Person of the Year. He told his receptionist to tell the reporter he didn’t give interviews.

Home life settled down. At first, Phyllis was undecided about accepting the award because he felt like a fraud. After all, his gender swapping was not voluntary. Mike counselled him against forgoing the honour, pointing out it might be considered a slight to the LGBT community, one Phil had come to have great empathy for. Phyllis resigned himself to the publicity and went to work on his acceptance speech, determined to be the best transgender representative he could be. The speech would not be 100% honest, he was willing to stretch the truth concerning his personal journey from man to woman for the sake of his audience. He was determined to respect the people who were struggling with their true gender identities.

Carol forgot about her experiment at masculinity and decided she didn’t want to know why her husband had been frequenting strip clubs. Believing what she didn’t know couldn’t hurt her.

Still…Carol attempted to win her husband back. She wasn’t overly aggressive; most nights she was content to simply canoodle on the couch with Phyllis. Slowly, Phyllis began to respond and on a rare occasion would even make slow lesbian love to Carol. In her life Carol never even considered getting romantically involved with another woman. Now that had changed. Her rationalization was that Phyllis the one person in this world she loved was for all intent and purposes a woman, but was still her husband. Phil had always been a considerate lover. Now things were different. Phil had always treated sex more like a sprint. Phyllis approached sex like it was a slow waltz. He was more tender and considerate during love making.

Then there was the other thing. Phil had never been enthusiastic about oral sex. Phyllis on the other had had become a virtuoso at cunnilingus. The only problem from Carol's point of view was Phyllis’s low libido. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy pleasuring his wife, it was that his atrophied flaccid manhood prevented her from returning the favour. His little man did enjoy his wife’s oral manipulations, it is just that it always left him hanging, felling unfulfilled.

Carol had watched her husbands practice skyrocket since he became a she. The transgender community flocked to the man with the gigantic tits and understanding manner. She was jealous as her own medical practice had flat lined. She saw the transgender community as an untapped gold mind for her surgical services. Her husbands practice had flourished and she saw no reason why hers couldn’t benefit as well. As the night of Phyllis's awards banquet approached. She planned to use the gala to get her name out there. She did not see that her mind-set was still very much self-oriented. Neither did she stop to think about the fact that her own actions had caused this state of affairs.

Phyllis was initially reluctant to have Carol join him, in his mind she was still a bit of a loose cannon. He also didn’t like the idea of flaunting his femininity in front of his wife.

After a lot of reflection, he could see her point so he gave in at her insistence that they were still a couple and she wanted to share his big night. Surprisingly, it was Phyllis that brought up the idea of getting new outfits for the banquet, explaining that he had lost some weight and wanted to look his best. Carol also had her reasons for wanting her husband to look as beautiful as possible. The two had a great time shopping for dresses together, it was a truly feminine bonding experience.

The only disagreement came over the actual selection of a gown for Phyllis. He wanted to wear a plain loose fitting formal, to de-accentuate his exaggerated figure. Carol had a preconceived idea on what a group of transvestites would wear and argued vigorously for a form fitting flamboyant outfit that would show off her handiwork. In the end they compromised. Phyllis selected a drab grey gown with a very risqué neckline that plunged halfway to his navel. For herself, Carol decided on a very feminine pink chiffon lace A-line floor length dress.

The morning of the ceremonies, both ladies had appointments at Carol’s beauty salon. Carol pre-ordered what she wanted for both of them. She got a Bettie Page cut with bangs cut straight across the high forehead. Phyllis wanted his hair simply long and flowing down to his shoulders, but Carol wouldn’t hear of it. She threatened to throw a public tantrum unless he agreed to her selected hair style. There was no way she would allow him to hide behind a curtain of hair. She insisted he have a fashionable updo with his hair twisted on top of his head in an elaborate bun combined with feminine loose side bangs. In Carol’s mind, the purpose was less high fashion and more about illuminating all of his feminine enhancements she had performed. They both had a total makeover, Carol having ordered a dramatic look for both of them. As they were getting dressed for the banquet another disagreement surfaced. Carol had laid out an assortment of oversized silver rhinestone jewellery. Phyllis was still disgruntled, and threatened to stay home if Carol insisted he go looking like a drag queen. Carol temporarily conceded.

While Carol was finishing her dressing, Phyllis found himself board and killing time. Surfing the net was always a good time waster, so he opened the family laptop sitting on the counter. He found that Carol had not closer her last page, but had only minimized it. Out of curiosity, he retrieved it to discover that it was a Google search for the word ‘Pegged’ a term he was unfamiliar with.

What he read sent him into a dizzying fit of rage. He continued to scan the page and found himself captivated by some of the testimonials. He had no idea men enjoyed being penetrated by their female partners with a strap on. It opened his eyes to some of the things his patients had only hinted at. His anger settled into dismay. Where had his uptight church going wife ever heard of such a thing? He decided to talk it over with Mike before confronting Carol about it. Phil shut down the machine after clearing the history. Carol came out of the bedroom in jovial spirits and the two headed out for a night of merriment. Each grabbed their respective purses and stepped onto their front porch.

Phil was shocked to see a stretch limo waiting in their driveway. It was a surprise from his wife. With his luck it is probably filled with male strippers. Carol took him by the arm and led him to the car, the chauffeur graciously opened the rear door and helped the ladies enter. On the way to the awards ceremony, Carol snuggled up to her husband and asked for his wedding ring. A bewildered Phil meekly complied. Carol then took his ring finger and slipped on her engagement ring saying she had it resized for him; but after tonight she wanted it back. While her husband was still in shock, she put two gaudy dinner rings on his other fingers, saying, "A girl needs a little bling.

Phil was again questioning the wisdom of attending this ceremony. When he mentioned this to Carol, she was having none of it and sternly snapped, "Think about our practices, money can't buy this sort of publicity." To avoid a fight, he gave into her wishes and became resigned to enjoy his 15 minutes of fame.

The ballroom was festooned with colourful rainbow banners. Carol had timed their arrival to be fashionably late and the hall was already crowded. Carol stood at the entrance and marvelled at the sight before her. She expected a room full of flamboyant swishy drag queens. What she saw were men in Armani tuxedos and woman elegantly dressed in fashionable Prada, Gucci, Dior, and Valentino gowns. City dignitaries were sprinkled throughout the room freely mingling with the avant-garde guests.

She stood transfixed, a 16-piece mariachi band played in the background as scantily clad waitresses looking like they had been recruited out of a playboy club circulated throughout the crowd offering appetizers and liquid refreshments. As one particularly attractive server with a queen sized rack passed, Phil gawked in appreciation. Carol stopped the waitress and procured two champagne flutes off her tray. She gave Phyllis a look of disapproval and told him to close his mouth. Then she gave him a big theatrical wink. The quest of honour stood at the entrance, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot unsure of what to do or where to go.

A handsome tall tanned man in a well-tailored tux approached, made a slight bow and inquired, "Doctor Brown?"

"Guilty as charged", was Phil's response.

The man's his face cracked into a wide smile. He shook hands with Carol and gave Phyllis a two cheek kiss. He said, "Please follow me I'll take you to your seat." He offered his arm to Phyllis and led them to the head table. He pulled out a chair for Phyllis and assisted her sitting. Carol stood stoically waiting for a similar gallant gesture. Instead, the man spun on the balls of his feet and was immediately swallowed up in the crowd.

Carol fumed and felt foolish standing by herself. In a pout, she pulled her chair out and seated herself. She waved for a server and snatched two drinks off her tray unconcerned of what they were and told the girl to keep them coming. Carol realized that Phyllis was going to be given the royal treatment while she was being considered nothing more than a companion. She was going to need a lot of liquid courage to get through the night, she sipped her drinks and tried to devise a way to turn the spotlight onto her skills as a brilliant cosmetic surgeon. After all, without her none of this would have been possible.

After a few minutes, a couple dressed in formal attire, one in a tux the other in an ivory lace short wedding gown, introduced themselves as Shyla and Oliver transgender persons who started life in the other sex, now man and wife. They led him to the dais, where they took positions on each side of him. They each had a handheld microphone, they signaled for quiet. They spent the next 15 minutes in a tag team routine articulating Phyllis’s accolades concerning his work with patients undergoing gender dysphoria. At the end, he was presented with a plaque in commemoration of the award.

Phyllis started to return to her seat when Shyla said “not so fast, little lady.” She then handed Phyllis a paper bag with something in it. A bewildered Phyllis peaked into the bag and blushed crimson. The woman, in a husky voice, announced to the audience, "In addition to the plaque the doctor had also won a year’s subscription to playgirl magazine." The crowd appalled politely. Oliver then handed Phyllis another bag and announced, "To be fair the doctor has also won a subscription to Playboy magazine."

Now the crowd erupted in applause and laughter.

Phyllis thanked the presenters with a wry smile, put his magazines down on the podium, and took up the mike. The crowd leapt to their feet and applauded with great vigor. Phyllis asked for quiet and said, "Thank you for this award, I honestly don't feel I deserve it; because I'm not really one of you."

The statement generated a collective gasp from the audience. A hushed silence then fell over the massive room.

"Why do I say that? Because I never asked to be a woman. Growing up, I always thought of myself as a man. Sure that at some point, when I was very young I experimented wearing my mother’s clothes. But what little boy has never done that. I have only disjointed and vague memories as to why I did that. My awakening to the feminine existence came late in life. It was a decision that was taken out of my control. In my case, it was almost like I had a hallucinogenic dream. I just woke up one morning and discovered I was a man in a woman’s body.”

He had struggled with what he would say in the acceptance speech that he knew he would be expected to say. He couldn’t just tell everyone ‘Thanks’ and sit down. He meant what he said when he felt like a poser in the company of everyone here, but to tell them that he had been forced into this lifestyle would be a slap in the face. He also could not lie to them as to how he had come to this. So he fought for a combination of truth liberally salted with fiction.

“It wasn’t something I asked for. It just happened, my first reaction when I grasped I would be viewed as a transgender woman was fear of ridicule and rejection, followed by anger and asking ‘why me?’ I went to sleep as a normal married man and woke looking like the woman you see before you tonight. At first, I did not want this lifestyle.”

Pointing to the sky he intoned, “I was filled with anger at who or whatever had made me this way. It is not like any of us had a choice to being the way we are. I grieved, wanting my simpler, if dull, life back. In my male existence, I never considered myself to be unhappy. My life was safe, but not honest. It wasn't until I secured my first bra, and fitted real breasts into the cups did I realize what happiness was all about. It took a while before I was able to let go of my anger, acquiesced and accepted my alter-ego."

Phyllis hefted her boobs up with both hands, "As you can see, my happiness cups runneth over. I may have dived too deeply into the pool of joy."

The crowd snickered at the small joke.

"The thought I would someday stand before an assembly of strangers in high heels, wearing makeup, and dressed in a designer dress was incomprehensible. Yet here I am and a better person for the opportunity. This honor overwhelms me. Just being considered a member of the distinguished body of transgender persons is humbling. Being selected as the woman of the year is awe-inspiring. Thank you all."

Carol had not heard Phyllis’ speech prior to this evening and she knew that some of Phyllis’ comments were about her specifically. Carol had a bad feeling she wasn't going to like where this was going and threw down another cocktail.

Phyllis held up the plaque and read the inscription, ‘Transgender woman of the year’. He continued, "Let me ask the question is being transgender the same thing as being transsexual? For simplicity, a transsexual is a person whose inner sense of gender identity and brain patterns are completely the opposite of what physical form they are born into. We have all heard the phrase “born in the wrong body”. This is a recognized medical condition which is completely unrelated to sexuality or sexual preference. While a transgender individual is a person who wants to be able to decide for themselves the gender they which to be identified with. I appreciate you viewing me being a transgender but that is not the group I identify with. If anyone asks me what I am, I will wholeheartedly respond I am a woman. Hear me roar."

"I should mention I have also always been very drawn to women's clothes. As a man, I was a mere observer, but I can fully participate now. I feel so much more comfortable in them. You may find it hard to believe that I even love wearing high heels and corsets. They make me feel so much more affirmed, so much more myself. I like the flowiness of skirts, and the cuteness expressed by bows and lace."

Carol smiled and waved a waitress over with her new drink order. She was feeling no pain and she was proud of the creature she had turned her husband into and apparently he too was happy with what she did to him. From what she was hearing, it was obvious what she did was truly appreciated by her husband. It was like a weight had been lifted from her soul. For the first time she felt she had been right to turn him into a woman.

The audience applauded. Phyllis waited for it to quiet down and went on.

"I was once asked what I liked best about being a woman. The answer to me was easy, it’s big boobs and long hair. I believe long hair expresses something from inside me; the same flowiness that I associate with long skirts. I actually think that these things are all somehow innate to me. My internal gender gravitates to things cute, tender, radiant, and beautiful. By beautiful, I mean beautiful in the way a flower is beautiful: radiating beauty; being beautiful for the sake of beauty itself, not merely as a byproduct of functionality."

"This evening, standing in front of a looking glass waiting to come here, for the first time in my life I was proud of what looked back at me. Pride is considered one of the seven deadly sins. However, I feel proud at not only how I look but at who I have become. For once my inner self matches my physical form. Let me encourage those of you that are still struggling between the two inner and outer identities. We are not alone. Transsexuality occurs in equal numbers across male and females. Estimates run as high as 1 in 30,000 people are born with this condition. Only a small portion of those have the opportunity to do something about their feelings. Looking out at those in attendance, we seem to be among the lucky few. Let's not use this night to honor me but rather celebrate who we all are."

"Let me offer you non-transgender individuals this question: If someone offered you ten million dollars on the condition that you live as the other sex for the rest of your life. Would you accept?"

The non-trans guests seemed nervous and tended to suddenly acquire an interest at what was on the floor.

Phyllis continued, "People have varying reactions to this scenario. It is obvious most have never stopped to think about. It is felt with varying levels of certainty that most people would not take the money. Imagine how we in the transgender community feel when we are told we cannot live the life of our inner personality and must present a gender not of our choosing."

"For us here, there is always the matter of the body. Most transgender people dream of having a body that is in accordance with our internal gender, and they work hard to reconstruct their body in that mold. Though we do want people to see us as who we really are, I think the primary reason for wanting to change our bodies is internal. This is who we feel we are, and gender dysphoria makes sure we never forget it."

"Once I accepted who I was, a feeling what I can only describe as a sense of euphoria overtook me. Let's have a toast to us!"

His speech produced another standing ovation. Phil let it go on and sadly reflected on the fact most of what he just said was, if not a lie a strong distortion of the truth. But if he spoke the actual truth, he would be disrespecting these good people around him.

Carol stood and the people around her table gushed over what was said and how beautiful doctor Brown was. In her inebriated state, she just could not take it anymore. She rushed the stage and ripped the microphone out of Phil's hand. The crowd paused to watch Carol’s imitation of Kanye West. Coral stepped forward and spoke those fateful words. "Thank you all. I'm Carol Brown plastic surgeon extraordinaire and the doctor's wife. I'm the one that made my husband into the woman he is today."

She started to give her phone number and business location but someone turned off the microphone so it went unheard.

@ @ @ @

As much as Phil wanted to escape from the ballroom and get home again where he felt comfortable, manners made him accept requests to attend a more intimate reception in a side room.

One of his hosts was sharp enough to recognized Carol's inebriated state and managed to divert her off to another room by cleverly asking her about what she had been trying to tell the audience after Phyllis' speech. Phil only noticed peripherally that Carol was leaving with a handful of others, but he was quickly distracted by some of the polite questions that were being posed to him.

Some questions were inane like, 'How did he feel when confronted with someone who could not accept his transition?' or 'Did he like the same things after his transition that he had before?' The answers were obvious and he gave polite answers even when he wanted to point out how foolish the enquiries sounded.

Phil knew that being outed to the entire Bay area community meant that he would no longer be the anonymous, being a large busted woman would make anyone stand out. Being a man with a pretty face, long hair and Texas sized boobs make anonymity impossible.

Other questions he was glad to address like 'How best to help a relative who was not sure about their gender or just sexual orientation?' The answer to that one was simple: Just love them and help them to find the help they needed. Finding a mental health professional that they were comfortable with was very important. There was no guarantee that there would be a good fit between care provider and the patient right off the bat. Phil had had his share of patients that he just did not seem to click with and he always helped them with referrals to other providers.

@ @ @ @

Carol's small group found themselves in a secluded alcove with its own minibar, staffed with a bartender. Periodically, waitresses flittered in and out getting drink orders. Carol took full advantage of the situation and positioned herself next to the bar. As a result, her champagne glass was never empty.

As the evening wore on Carol's vision began to blur as she was feeling no pain. Even in her inebriated state she could tell a number of her entourage were men appearing as women, some quite convincingly.

Once removed from the presence of her husband, the celebrity, she was peppered with questions about her services. Carol held court and boasted about her talents as a surgeon. The pretenders, slowly elbowed the non-trans Cisgender people away and tightly encircled Carol. The star struck admirers hung on her ever word. They took her at her word that she was the architect of the goddess Phyllis. They were curious how their bodies could be altered similarly. Rather than talk to them individually Carol gathered the woman wannabes and provided them a free consultation. She scrutinized each closely and summarized their faults, and how she could correct them – for a price after all she was not operating a charity.

Her arrogant bragging eventually became wearisome, and her audience slowly slipped away to the point it was finally reduced to a single irritating man. He didn’t want to hear about generalities, rather he persistently kept bringing Carol back to details concerning Phyllis. He challenged her for specifics. Carol threw done another flute of champagne and began to sway on her feet. She lost her balance and almost fell catching herself on the corner of the portable bar. The bartender rushed out and assisted Carol into a nearby chair.

The pest of a reporter stood over her and made it obvious he questioned her truthfulness. He persisted by saying he wouldn't believe her unless she could provide a detailed list of exactly what she was taking credit for. Carol was offended, no one had ever challenged her veracity before. To prove what she was saying was the truth Carol gave the annoying man a detailed list of the procedures she performed on her husband.

When she was finished, he had one big question. "Was Phyllis technically still a man and was he really her husband?"

She insisted, "He is and still is my legally wed husband."

The reporter wanted to ask why she turned her husband into a she-male, but she slumped into the chair and appeared to lose consciousness. So he was forced to end his interview. The helpful bar tender, called a cab for the drunken lady, found her address in her purse and helped her into the cab and relayed the address to the driver.

Phil was a little miffed when he went to leave and couldn't find his wife. After checking every space, even the bathrooms for her, he gave up and took a taxi home, luckily he always carried mad money in a secret compartment in his bra. Arriving home, he found Carol passed out and sprawled in the middle of their bed. He was still energized from the night; but took the easy way out. After getting cleaned up, he hung up his dress, threw his delicates into the hamper for washing later and slipped into his long silk nightgown and slept in the guest bedroom.

Phyllis slept late, but found his wife still passed out on the bed, never haven even gotten under the covers. He went and put on the coffee then stepped out to retrieve the morning paper. He spread the paper out on the table and was enjoying his first cup of the black elixir of life. When he reached the entertainment section he was surprised to see a full cover page of his award. The bay area had a strong contingent of transgender people, but never had they received this kind of notoriety.

Phil thought that his agreement to accept the award might have a positive effect of the transgender community. His opinion changed to rage as he read the article under his picture, a rather flattering one that accentuated his feminine figure. Then, shockingly, he saw that they had somehow gotten his high school graduation photo. They displayed it side by side with his current picture. It was followed by a picture of his wife. There were a few flattering comments on Carol’s skills turning an ordinary looking man into a candidate for a cover girl. The rest was a total hatchet job, ridiculing both him and his wife. The reporter had confirmation from a source close to the doctor that all the procedures performed on Phil which were listed in detail. His informant confirmed it had all been performed without the patient’s consent.

The writer went so far as to insinuate that Carol had transformed her husband into a shemale in revenge for some undisclosed indiscretion on her husband’s part. The amount of accurate detail in the article was disturbing. Phil could only think of one person who knew those specifics – his wife. Loose lips sink ships; Carol’s might have torpedoed both of their careers.

Absolutely livid with anger, he had to get up and pace. He stood in front of their picture window doing deep breathing exercises to calm down.

Eventually, he heard Carol moving about. He poured her a cup of coffee and took it to her along with a couple of aspirins. He sat on the edge of the bed and handed the drink to her. Carol sat up with great bloodshot eyes and her hair a tangled spider web. Her dress was stained from a night of drooling on it. In short, she looked like hell.

She popped the offered pills into her mouth without looking at what her husband had handed her and swallowed the coffee with great trepidation, concerned about burning her mouth. She handed him the empty mug and shoved him out of the room so she could get dressed.

Phil waited for his wife in the kitchen, where he made himself a cup of tea. He wasn’t normally a tea drinker, it just sounded good to him today. He sat at the kitchen table, enjoying the morning sun that streamed through the large window and bathed his face in its warming embrace. He had the paper spread out before him waiting to confront his wife with what he had read.

She eventually shuffled into the kitchen, still looking like something the cat had dragged in. She declined his offer of breakfast and dropped into a seat at the table. Once she was seated, Phil spun the paper around and showed her the offending article. He pounded this fist on the table and said “Read this, what do you have to say for yourself!” Carol rubbed her eyes and eventually managed to focus on the paper.

She read for a good ten minutes without saying a word. Eventually, she raised her head up and smiled. Her only words were, “Your picture really illustrates what great work I do. He even spelled my name correctly. So it will be easy for other ‘girls’ like you to find me. I am going to be swamped with work. This is great publicity.”

Phil spent some time trying to show his wife the negative consequences from this publicity. Carol, between her hangover and excitement, was hearing none of it. She was only focused on the potential good to her surgical practice. She even made a few phone calls searching for a new assistant to handle the anticipated increased workload. She was bewildered at the cause of her husband’s anger. As he said in his speech, she had merely let free the woman within. Where was her thanks?

Exasperated, Phil finally reached a point where he gave up trying to show Carol that she had overstepped her bounds. He stormed off to the garage and found an overnight bag. He headed to his bathroom, where he used his arm to sweep his hodgepodge of cosmetics into the valise. Proceeding to the bedroom, he filled the small bag to overflowing with underwear and a few of his favorite outfits.

He rationalized that, if his departure lasted more than a few days, he could always send for his other things. He stopped to say goodbye to Carol. She barely took the phone away from her ear to ask where he was going.

He replied, “As strange as it sounds, I’m headed to your parents’ house.”

Carol smirked at the incongruous response and commented, “What’s got your bloomers in a bunch?” Phil merely shook his head in disgust and headed out the front door to his car. Carol rushed to the door and yelled after her feminized husband, “Don’t I get a kiss goodbye?”

Phil just ignored her jibe and threw his case in the trunk of his tiny subcompact. He squeezed behind the wheel, checked his face in the rearview mirror, and sped off as fast as the three-cylinder car would go.

Phil arrived at Mikes place and left his luggage in the car until he could ask if it was alright for him to stay there for a few days.

Mike, of course, agreed after being briefed on the latest fiasco his daughter had created. Phil was led to Carol’s old room, where he was told to make himself comfortable. He quickly unpacked and made room in the small closet for his few outfits so they wouldn’t get too wrinkled. The one womanly chore he truly hated was ironing.

He was called to dinner, and sat across from Liz who made it plain in her opinion he must have done something wrong to upset her daughter. Mike merely rolled his eyes but refused to get drawn into that quagmire. After the dishes were cleared and loaded into the dishwasher, Mike invited Phil into his study for a drink and some conversation. A half of bottle of Scotch later, Mike gave up on trying to talk his son-in-law into returning to his home. Phil was determined to strike out on his own. He had finally had it with Carol.

During the next two days Phyllis would get up, shower and leave in his car with no explanation to his whereabouts. He would return each afternoon, help Liz make dinner. Despite the fact he helped create the nightly meal, he would only pick at it. After eating and helping with cleanup he would hibernate in his room.

Phil’s absence had gotten Carol’s attention and she repeatedly called her mother to ask about her husband. She invited herself over for coffee one afternoon and Mike greater her with a lukewarm hug. The three of them chatted cordially until Carol insisted her parents stop sheltering her husband and send him home where he belonged. Liz of course sided with her daughter, Mike on the other hand wouldn’t budge. The three-way argument became so loud that Mike was afraid that the neighbors would call the cops. Mike, as the voice of reason, put his foot down and declared the discussion over. Phyllis had sanctuary in his home for as long as she wanted to stay.

Carol broke down and wailed, sending a torrent of tears down her face. She just couldn’t understand why everyone was against her. She rationalized that Phil should be thanking her for what she did and not try and make her feel guilty. All she did was make him into a beautiful looking woman. Hell, she made a very good living off doing that to rich socialites. Her actions led directly to his counseling practice tripling its business. He was getting rich and all it cost him was his family jewels. He had accepted that until she let it slip that he was her husband. She didn’t see what the big deal was with people knowing Phyllis was at one time a man. She was after all only looking out for what was best for her career.

Liz was turning into a basket case trying to console her daughter and blaming Mike for the whole situation. Mike told Carol he wanted her out of his house before Phyllis returned. That unleased the hounds of hell. He retreated into his study until the estrogen induced whirlwind had died down. Mike voluntarily slept on the couch that night.

Exhausted, Mike slept in. Only to be awakened by a hysterical Liz. She handed the phone to Mike and collapsed in his chair. Mike put the phone to his ear and heard his daughter pleading to come back over, something horrible had happened. His first thought was about the welfare of Phyllis. He put his hand over the receiver and asked his wife, “Have you seen Phyllis this morning?”

“Why yes, she left here about 45 minutes ago, looking like the tramp he is. She was wearing a scandalous pair of short shorts and a pink t-shirt that accentuated his big bosom. It was so tight I could clearly see her bra straps. Where does a woman go at 7 in the morning looking like that?”

Relieved that Phil was alright he went back to the phone. Carol told him when she returned home last night she found a man waiting for her. He served her with a subpoena, she was being investigated for assault and mutilation on Phil. When the California medical board got wind of the possible criminal charges they piled on and sent her a registered letter informing her she was being investigated for possible professional misconduct.

She wailed, “I could lose my license and even go to jail.” Mike put her on hold and went to his desk and found the number of his lawyer, one of the best in the Bay area. He told Carol to talk to no one and go immediately to see his lawyer, he would call ahead and brief him that she was on her way.

When Phil returned home that night he found himself in the middle of a wake. Even the batch of chocolate chip cookies he whipped up could not raise anyone’s spirits. Carol was there, she had assumed the fetal position on the couch with her head is Liz’s lap and was in the middle of a major pity party because her malpractice insurance had just been cancelled. As he walked by on the way to his bed, Carol sat up and asked if she could spend the night with Phyllis in her old bed. Phil merely shook his head no and said that he needed some alone time to think.

Phil hung around for a while, cleaned up the dishes and snuck off to his bedroom. That night, lying in bed and staring into the darkness, he came to a monumental decision. One that he thought would solve his and Carol’s problems. The next morning, he stripped his bed and did a load of laundry. He packed up his things and disappeared out the backdoor.

He was saddened by the fact that he did not say thank you and goodbye to his hosts but he didn’t want to answer any questions about his destination. He drove to his bank and waited 20 minutes in the parking lot for the doors to open. He emptied his private accounts, transferred sufficient funds from his business account to cover the mortgage for the next year. He then went to his safe-deposit box, withdrew his passport, birth certificate, his car title and all the emergency cash he kept in there. His next stop was to a used car lot, where he sold his car. Then he called a taxi to take him to the airport.

@ @ @ @

The next few days were the nadir point in Carol’s existence. Her husband had run off to god knows where, her lawyer was preparing her for a possible trial. She had moved back into her old bedroom and sucked up all the sympathy her parents gave her. Mostly it was from her mother, infuriatingly her father appeared to be on Phil’s side. He had several long talks with her, taking the role of both a loving father and mental health professional. Carol stubbornly refused to admit she bore any responsibility for how things had turned out. She even expressed her anger at her husband, convinced he should be grateful, not resentful because everything she did was done out of love, not malice.

If it hadn’t been his daughter, Mike would have given up and considered Carol a lost cause.

The real breakthrough came when her barrister sat her down and laid out what he had received in the discovery phase of the trial. He showed her what the state had accumulated concerning her reckless behavior toward her husband. There were even affidavits from Sue and Chris, the two who provoked the entire thing. She read them with some trepidation. They were the only ones who knew the truth about her motivation. Carol sighed in relief, it seemed that Sue had developed a convenient case of amnesia. All of her response were the same, “I cannot recall the answer at this time. Chris on the other hand had a lot to say. He testified that ‘their’ feminine stuff had been kept in a trunk in Phil’s garage. He also said he and Phil had spent many hours talking about the challenges of being transgender.

On the negative side, someone in her office had turned informant. The quisling rat had provided the state with copies of her files, billing statements and patient records. The state was trying to prove Carol had never gotten a signed release form from Phil before his surgery. Her attorney felt confident that he could get those thrown out because they had not been legally acquired through a search warrant, plus there was the doctor-patient confidentiality issue. What he was hanging his hat on was the fact that not finding the release form in her office files doesn’t prove there wasn’t one. He avoided asking Carol if she had one someplace else.

As the mountain of evidence grew, she became more and more discouraged. There were affidavits from her not-so-loyal staff, which she was beginning to wish she had treated her people better. The negative statements threatened to destroy her ego. There was no way she could survive having to sit in a courtroom and listen to the parade of uncomplimentary witnesses list her perceived personal and professional faults. She finally gave in, told her attorney to work out a plea deal, and headed back to the refuge of her home.

Mike took the opportunity to achieve a breakthrough. They attacked the elephant in the room and painstakingly walked through all the decision points that got Carol where she is today. Mike meticulously examined what information Carol based her decisions upon. Then how, rather than communicate with Phil, she rushed to conclusions convinced she knew what was best. Lastly, they discussed what the consequences of her actions were.

It took some time before Mike was able to get his daughter to admit that what she had done was her responsibility and that had grievously hurt her husband and destroyed their marriage. Mike did concede she wasn’t the only one who had screwed up. Even Phil was not blame free. Carol’s family and friends all contributed as well. The bottom line was that everyone was talking, but no one was actually communicating. There was way too much effort put into getting even or even getting ahead in the relationship dynamics.

After Carol had finished her second cup of Irish coffee, she sat at her parent’s kitchen table and stared out the window lost in thought. She experienced a Eureka moment, followed immediately by an ‘Oh S***t’ moment. The fog of narcissism lifted and she finally saw the majority of her difficulties were a result of her jumping to conclusions. She also acknowledged she still loved her husband, both as a man and as the woman she had created. The person who she had fallen in love with, not the shell, was who she loved. She would do anything to get him back. If only he would contact her so she could throw herself at his feet and beg his forgiveness.

The only good news was that her legal team had convinced the local district attorney to stop pursuing legal action on the condition that she suspend her medical practice, pending the outcome of her Licensing Board Investigation. A trial date was set, then postponed while the Board tried in vain to locate Phil so he could testify against his wife. During that time, Carol had a minor nervous breakdown and had to be briefly hospitalized. Her lawyers convinced Carol it was a good thing Phyllis could not be located, his testimony would surly damn her.

Despite what they said, she continued to search for him. The day of her hearing finally arrived and she was still unable to locate him.

Carol woke after a restless night, staring out her bedroom window. A harvest moon glowed orange between scattered clouds. She staggered to the bathroom where she saw dark circles ringing her eyes, giving her the look of a haggard raccoon. She did what she could with makeup, then combed her hair and dressed in her best professional skirt and blouse.

The morning had turned dark with menacing black clouds threatening a deluge. She was afraid the weather might be a precursor to her future. She sprinted out to the car, threw her purse in and hopped in behind it. Just as she settled in, the wind picked up and the rain pelted the car in torrents. It was a morning that would give the city of Seattle a run for its money.

Her drive to the hearing was uneventful. Carol parked her car, waited briefly for a passing shower to subside to a gentle mist. Taking advantage of the break in the rain, she grabbed her purse and stepped out of the car locking the door. A cool breeze tousled her hair and threatened to do a Marilyn Monroe with her skirt. She breezed through the token security at the courthouse. She made her way to the defendant table and sat next to her lawyer with a dour expression and nervously waited for her witch trial to begin.

The prosecutor cut right to the chase in her opening remarks. “I will prove this doctor committed horrific acts of cruelty on her unsuspecting husband. In all likelihood, she went into her chosen profession to help others and must have worked hard in medical school. But at some point, she made some unfortunate choices. I will prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that she mutilated and emasculated her husband. She not only turned him into a pseudo woman but made him a caricature of a walking bimbo. She performed surgery on a man identified as her husband without bothering to get his written consent. Operating on a family member is bad enough but to do so without his consent is criminal!”

Carol spent the morning, having to listen to a procession of witnesses testify that she performed surgery on a person they claimed was her husband. The defense won some points when Carol’s lawyer got her entire staff to admit none of them actually witnessed the surgery, nor could they prove the patient was her husband.

They brought in documentation from her pharmacy indicating she had written a prescription to herself for an extremely virulent version of estragon. They were trying to insinuate that not only did she mutilate his body but had him on female hormones.

An expert testified on the psychological effects of high levels of estrogen being pumped into a normal male. His exact words were, “The effects can be insidious. Not only would it change a man’s secondary sexual characteristics but and would in all probability effect a person’s mental outlook.”

He was asked if he could prove that Phil had taken estrogen. “No, not without a blood sample.” It was the response that had been expected. The follow up question was, “Could the hormone levels discussed be debilitating?”

The doctor replied, “No. In fact, the patient might even enjoy periods of euphoria brought on by high levels of estrogen.”

Mike was called to the witness stand. He sat his back ramrod stiff, but he maintained a blank inscrutable expression. His testimony was less than satisfactory as far as the prosecution was concerned. He refused to answer anything that dealt with Phil, claiming doctor patient privilege.

However, he was forced to answer the questions: ‘Did he know where Phil had been over the past months and had he heard from him?’ His response was curt, “I have no personal knowledge of his actual whereabouts. I have not heard from Phyllis directly. Any more than that I can’t say.”

The only other question he answered was how Phil’s transition to Phyllis had affected his family. He looked the judge in the eye as he answered, “I always liked Phil. He was a good son-in-law and treated my daughter well. This entire thing has affected my family as I no longer feel I have a son-in-law. However, on the positive side, I find Phyllis to be the best daughter-in-law a man could ever have. Phil, I liked, but I love Phyllis. Does that answer your question?”

The defense called Cristopher Donleavy to the stand. The witness’s appearance caused a minor stir in the hearing room. The name indicated a man would be coming to the stand. Rather what everyone saw was a tall, heavy-set woman wearing a form-fitting lilac pant suit and matching open toed dress shoes with thin stratospheric heels. She sauntered to the witness chair, set a purse down at her feet, and brushed her long bleach blonde hair back behind her ears. Seated facing the jury, her makeup was sultry and overdone for a morning. She batted his long lashed eyes at the judge and smiled.

When asked his name, he said, “Legally, it is still Cristopher Donleavy, but I am in the process of changing it to Chrissie Wilson. Wilson being my ex-wife’s maiden name.”

He was asked by the lawyer “Do you consider yourself and Phil to be homosexuals, transvestites, or transgender women?”

Chrissie fiddled with the charm bracelet on his wrist and replied, “By homosexual, if you mean am I attracted to men, I would say generally no. However, there are times, well…you understand. Overall, I prefer the term gender fluid.”

When he was asked to explain that he said, “It’s simple. Sometimes, I feel like a boy, sometimes a girl, sometimes both. But that’s me, I can’t speak for Phyllis.”

He was asked if he ever saw Phil distressed over his transformation from a man into an attractive looking woman. Rather than answer the question, he related the story of the night the four ladies, Chrissie, Phyllis, and their wives had a girl’s night out. They went out to dinner together and had a grand time. He reminisced about going to the bathroom with Phyllis. She led the way to the ‘ladies’ room, it was Chrissie’s first time in the ultimate bastion of womanhood. He talked about the thrill of standing side by side repairing their makeup from the damage done by dinner. He talked about how they chatted pleasantly and had a jovial time being two ladies. Then Chrissie dropped a bombshell, relating that when they said goodnight Phyllis gave me a kiss on the lips and they both enjoyed it.

In desperation, the prosecution asked what he thought about Phil’s exaggerated dimensions that were surely intended to belittle and degrade Phil. Chrissie pointed his well-padded bosom toward the jury and gleefully answered, that he never saw anything demeaning about Phyllis’s figure. On the contrary, he was envious and had even asked Carol to do the same for him.

The defense got its turn when it asked if he thought Phil was happy in his current body. His response was an unequivocal, “Gawd yes! We have been friends for years. The last time we were together he never stopped smiling and appeared comfortable in his new found femininity.”

@ @ @ @

Carol and her attorney were feeling confident and thought things were leaning their way. That all changed when the prosecutor called her last witness: Doctor Phyllis Brown. Carol gave her lawyer an inquisitive look. He merely shrugged his shoulders. The room became deathly quiet when the rear door swung open. All eyes turned to look.

There, framed in the doorway, was a glamorous looking raven-haired woman with a curvaceous figure wearing a red pencil skirt with matching heels. She stood with a relaxed confidence as she scanned the room’s occupants. Her gaze eventually settled on the defense table and its residents.

Even from a distance, it appeared she had just stepped out of a beauty parlor. Her makeup was dramatic yet tasteful and her perfectly coiffed hair drew your attention only briefly. The one distinguishing physical characteristic that identified her as Phyllis was her oversized breasts. They couldn’t be ignored and were clearly her defining feminine characteristic. They were accentuated by a beautiful slightly translucent white silk blouse that showed just a hint of a lacy bra.

The bailiff again called for Doctor Brown. The woman at the door raised her hand and answered in a throaty soprano voice, “Here.”

She surveyed the room like a queen looking out over her court with a devilish gleam.

The unexpected appearance of her estranged husband unleased a cornucopia of emotions in Carol. While she was delighted that he had returned, it could only spell trouble if it was as a witness against her. Carol’s lawyer closed his briefcase and leaned down and whisper to his client, “We’re screwed!”

The woman acting as the prosecutor, Miss Dorothy Carlyle, asked the doctor to take the stand. Phyllis moved with the grace of a dancer. The lightweight silk shirt she was wearing moved fluidly with her every step and again drew everyone’s attention to her best feature: her chest. She marched to the front, not demurely, but rather in a strong purposeful stride seemingly unconcerned by the way it made her breasts undulate seductively. This obviously was a person comfortable in her femininity.

As she passed the defendant’s table, she glanced a bit wistfully at Carol. She nodded hello to the judge and took her seat on the well-worn hard backed wooden chair. She rested her purse beside her feet, placed her hands in her lap and waited. She sat in the chair with her expression as stoic as the stone faces on Easter Island. Carol knew this was her husband but there was something different about him, that she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

The bailiff asked the witness to identify herself. Then Miss Carlyle, asked if she could identify the plaintiff. Phyllis gave her a look like she was dimwitted.

Phyllis looked at Carol and back to the prosecutor before saying, “That is Doctor Carol Brown.”

Carol shifted uneasily in her seat. She became pale, her hands trembled. A thin sheen of perspiration broke out on her forehead.

Phyllis sat daintily in the witness chair and crossed her nylon covered legs. The prosecutor commented in what she thought was a friendly manner, “You seem cherry this afternoon.”

“Why yes I am in a good mood, thank you for noticing. I woke up this morning on the right side of happy town.”

“May I call you Phyllis?”

“Certainly, Dorothy, you may call me Phyllis, but I prefer Doctor Brown if that is alright with you. Now what can I do for you counselor?”

Dorothy was totally flustered. This was to be her star witness, now it appeared as if Dr. Brown was going to be a hostile witness. So she decided to take an unorthodox approach.

“Doctor Brown, you are certainly an attractive looking woman. You are not what I expected. I was anticipating more a man camouflaged in a dress. We have interviewed over twenty of your past friends, even some old girl friends, but not a one of them mentioned you showed any signs of being a transvestite. Could you please tell us how you came to be this way?”

“It was a journey of self-discovery. For my entire life, I felt there was something wrong. It wasn’t until I started dealing with men struggling with gender identity that I began to question my own. It took a loving nudge from my wife to open my eyes to what had been missing from my life. With her help, I took the leap and started to live full time as a woman.”

“Excuse me Doctor, I am confused. You simply went from being a normal looking man to an attractive looking woman.”

“Thank you. It wasn’t easy. At first I was just a man in a dress. I struggled with my presentation. I have always been someone who if I am going to do something I am going to do it to the best of my ability. That is why I engaged my wife’s services to transform me from a plain, middle-aged man into the woman you see sitting here.”

Dorothy gestured to Phyllis’ massive chest and commented, “Are you telling this court you asked for these modifications?”

Phyllis smiled and pushed her chest out, “I admit my wife and I weren’t not on the same page when it came to my bra size. She knew I had always been a tit guy. She took my physical preferences to the extreme. Call it a failure to communicate. But that doesn’t alter the fact that I indeed asked Dr. Brown to make me look not only like a woman but as an attractive/sexy one as possible.”

Carol almost came out of her chair in surprise. She knew she had screwed up with what she did to Phil. But it seemed that his revisionist history said that he had forgiven her.

With her case crumbling before her, the prosecutor was rapidly losing her cool, “Let’s cut to the chase.”

Picking up a piece of paper, Dorothy read, “I have a list of procedures that were reportedly performed on you by your wife. I want a yes or no answer if these were in fact performed on you: Breast augmentation, you were castrated, your voice was altered, your entire body had electrolysis, your lips injected with collagen, your ears, tongue and nose were pierced, your waist underwent liposuction, with the fat being injected into your hips and buttocks, and lastly you had eye and lip makeup tattooed on your face.”

“Yes, those things were all done to me. But I can’t say for sure my wife did them. I was asleep at the time.”

“Did you actually ask your wife to perform these modifications to your body? Before you answer let me remind you that you are under oath. There is no written consent form that you signed. Our records indicate she actually removed your testes. Let me ask you: did Doctor Brown perform an orchiectomy on you?”

Phyllis paused and took a depth breath. What he spoke again it was in a soft controlled tone. “I may not have signed anything. I can’t really remember.”

“Aha so you admit you never requested your feminization surgeries!”

“Yeesh, you really like to jump to conclusions. I made my desires clear through other ways. As a married couple, we communicated other ways than through words. Call it ESP or call it a sensitivity to a person’s micro expressions. There are hundreds of ways a couple converse, a special look, a touch.”

“That is interesting, but ESP is not legally admissible.”

Phyllis bent over and retrieved her purse, opening it and withdrawing a piece of paper. Handing it to the Judge she said, “Your honor, my wife had my full medical power of attorney. I am not a lawyer but it seems to me she was allowed to perform those surgeries even if I didn’t sign a consent form.”

“You wanted her to do that to you. It seems a bit drastic. Why would any man want that?”

“Not that it is any of your business, but I did it out of love. Our sex life was inadequate, we seldom made love as man and wife. I had a comically small penis, so it’s was no BIG loss.

“Losing my balls was at first distressful, but the positive affect of getting them out of the way made my clothes fit better. And it freed me up of all that nasty testosterone they kept pumping into my system. Besides, I had pussy envy.”

That obviously shocked the woman prosecutor. Phil put his psychiatric counselor hat on and explained there are many men, even non-transgender ones, that have womb and vagina envy. It denotes the envy that men may feel towards a woman's primary role in nurturing and sustaining life. It denotes the anxiety many men feel caused by jealousy of the biological functions of the female sex: such as multiple orgasms, pregnancy, childbirth, and breast feeding.

“You’re a woman you know sex is even better when there is no recovery time. As a man it was wham, bam. A great 30 seconds, then nothing for hours. Who would want that?

“All in all, I enjoyed my time in the gender halfway house. When Carol let the cat out of the bag, that Doctor Brown was a man hiding behind ten pounds of boobs, it proved to be the impetus I needed to complete my transition.”

Dorothy could see that she was losing control of her case and tried to gain control over the person she had thought would be the linchpin of the trial.

“That is all interesting but it has nothing to do with this hearing.”

“Quite the contrary, it has everything to do with this hearing. Carol did everything short of SRS to make me a woman. That was done not out of malice, rather out of overwhelming love. We were married and as close as any two people could be. She knew what I wanted even when I hadn’t articulated it.”

Carol sat at her table, flabbergasted at what she was hearing. Hearing Phyllis defend her was the last thing she had expected.

The inquisitor returned her attention to Phyllis, “That is what you say now. How do we know what you are saying is the truth?”

“I became all woman. I had the last vestiges of my manhood removed. Does that sound like someone who was forcibly feminized?” She looked at Dorothy challengingly.

There was a mild gasp in the room. Even Miss Carlyle was taken by surprise.

“I just finished sex reassignment surgery, come closer and I will show you.” Phyllis had an evil grin on her face as she stood and reached for the belt holding up her skirt.

The judge stopped her with a word or two. Phyllis flirted with the judge offering to give him a private showing in his chambers. He had seen enough things in his courtroom over the years that Phyllis’ flirtation had no impact upon him at all. With a bland smile, he said that the offer was good enough proof for him.

He returned his attention to the court at large and called both lawyers to meet with him in his chambers. Phyllis was dismissed from the witness stand.

Phyllis smiled at Carol and blew her a small kiss as she walked to the spectator gallery.

The judge returned and made his ruling. “This is a most unusual case. From Doctor Brown’s testimony it is clear we have no victim. Obviously, there can be no criminal case. The issue of no signed consent form might be a technicality. However, we cannot overlook the fact that Doctor Carol Brown operated on a family member. Therefore, it is the ruling of this board to suspend Doctor Brown’s medical license for a period of two years.”

Carol gave her lawyer a hug of thanks, then she was mobbed by her parents. There were enough tears to solve a small drought. Carol asked her father, “Why do you think Phyllis had perjured herself on the stand?”

“I can only guess. He was just trying to be unselfish.”

There was an ache in her chest as she asked, “Then why does it feel so wrong?”

“Carol, that probably has a lot to do with your conscience. I would guess he has forgiven you. The question is: have you forgiven yourself.”

After they all settled down Carol turned to look for Phyllis.

Mike said, “If you are looking for Phyllis I saw her sneak out the front door.”

Carol picked up her belongings and headed out of the room, dejected that her husband hadn’t waited for her. She stepped out of the courthouse and was blinded by the bright sunshine. The sky had cleared and it looked like it was going to be a glorious day. At that moment, Phyllis appeared out of the shadows and took Carol by the hand.

Carol faced her husband and fought the urge to kiss him, unsure what his response would be to her advances. So she inquired, “I have never had your medical power of attorney. How did you get that?”

“One of my patients, knows a guy who knows a guy who can produce anything. I had it just in case you might need it.”

The two walked hand in hand to Carol’s car. Where Carol asked, “Can I drop you somewhere?”

Phyllis climbed in the passenger side and said, “Take me to our home please.”

Maneuvering through traffic, Carol asked, “Where have you been all this time? I looked all over trying to find you.”

“Well the last six weeks, I have been a student at Miss Sylvia’s charm school. She is an ex-fashion model who has devoted her time to teaching me to be feminine. She was a hard task master, we worked 24/7 on my speech patterns, my deportment, my walking, and wardrobe fashion, everything a young lady needs to know. Now that I am a graduate I am ready to come home, if you still want me.”

They arrived home and Carol opened the front door and led the way into their home. Phyllis plopped on the sofa and kicked off her heels and wiggled her toes saying, “That feels so good. Five inch stilettos look fabulous but are a killer on the toes.”

Carol dropped to the carpet and began rubbing her husband’s toes.

“Please don’t stop that fells so good,” Phyllis mewed.

“It’s the least I can do after what you did for me in court today,” replied Carol.

“Carol, I would love to take you to dinner. We need to have a talk, someplace public so I can show you off to the world.”

“Where are we going,” inquired Carol.

“It’s a surprise. You see soon enough. But first I need to take a shower.”

Carol walked in just as Phil was climbing out of the shower. Her attention was drawn to his crotch, from her vantage point it appeared he had a pudendum. She stared in a bewildered shock and wondered how he could maintain a tuck even in the shower. Phyllis was drying her legs with a big fluffy towel.

Phyllis looked up and said, “Yes, is something wrong?”

Carol mouth felt like it was full of cotton, but she managed to get out, “You seem to have lost something.”

“Why yes I have lost ten pounds. Thanks for noticing.”

Pointing toward his crotch she said, “Not that, you silly fool. I mean your joy stick appears to be missing.”

“Oh that, it’s not gone. Just turned inside out.”

Suddenly dizzy, Carol had to grab the door frame for support, “Oh my God, what you said in court was true! I thought you were bluffing.”

“Heaven’s no! I was under oath.” Phyllis just looked at her, amused.

“But why would you do that?” Carol sputtered. “All that mumbo jumbo about female envy was just crap and you know it.”

“Yes, you’re right. But you were in big time trouble, it was the only way I could think of to solve both of our problems.”

“Both?”

“Yes, your legal issues and my identity crisis. I truly resented what you did to me at first. But over time I have found there are a lot more positives than negatives to being a woman. I was conflicted every time I felt happy about being a woman, when as a man I should have hated it. I spent some serious alone time and decided to throw off all my negative feelings. Since there was no way I could ever go back to being a man, I would rather look at the glass as being half full. So I had the procedure to make me a fully functioning woman, with all that entails.”

“You don’t miss it?”

“At times. Access is a bit more involved. I can’t just whip it out and thrash away anymore. To get satisfaction, it takes something more than the palm of my hand. As you well know, the care and cleaning of a vagina is a lot less enjoyable than feeding it.”

Phyllis let that hang in the air while she finished drying off from the shower. She shooed Carol out, announcing that she needed time to get ready for dinner and closed the door in her wife’s face.

Less than an hour later, Phyllis walked out of the bathroom looking like she had just stepped off the runway in Paris.

Carol had called a cab which was waiting in their driveway.

They climbed into the cab, Carol waited for Phyllis to tell the driver where to go. Carols heart rose to her throat when Phyllis announced they were going to the same restaurant that Carol had originally drugged Phil to start this wild ride.

Phyllis had the cab make one quick stop in route to the restaurant: The Perfume Emporium. She left Carol in the cab while she ran in to pick up her order. She returned and took her seat next to Carol. Phyllis opened her purchase, her newly developed favorite perfume, Flora by Gucci. After a liberal application, she handed the bottle to Carol and encouraged her to do the same.

Their arrival at the restaurant was more like a grand entrance. The maître d greeted Phyllis by name and immediately led them to their table in a secluded corner, where he assisted both women with their chairs. Phyllis ordered both their drinks and meals, without consulting Carol.

They had a delicious meal and shared an excellent bottle of wine. Carol was on pins and nettles waiting for what Phyllis wanted to discuss. After Phyllis waved off desert, the two lingered over their coffees Carol finally asked, “Just what was it you wanted to discuss with me?”

Phyllis sat back in her chair and got a very serious look on her face. “Carol, you must know that with my recent surgery I am now legally a woman. That means we are no longer married. Each of us is free to seek new partners in life.”

Carol turned pale realizing that the ‘We can still be friends speech’ was coming.

Phyllis reached into her clutch purse that was resting on the table. She withdrew something before she stood and walked around the small table to Carol’s side. She knelt and held up a ring box.

“Carol, I love you and want to share the rest of my life with you. Now that this state allows same sex marriages, will you marry me again?”

Carol was so excited, she made a small wee in her panties. The two kissed passionately as Carol repeatedly kept saying yes.

The cab ride home seemed to take forever. Once in the house, Carol did not give Phyllis a chance to lead as she took her by the hand and steered them both to the bedroom. Carol stripped the dress off Phyllis and casually threw it aside. With both women in their underwear, Carol shoved Phyllis back onto the bed. Carol didn’t give Phyllis time to react as she forced her legs apart.

Standing over her, she rather forcefully said, “Tonight, me Tarzan, you Jane.”

Carol dropped to her knees and worked her head up to Phyllis’s crotch where she pulled aside her silk panties.

Phyllis raised herself up on her elbows and asked, “Why Carol, are you trying to seduce me?”

“Of course not, you know I am not a lesbian. I am just checking the workmanship. Whoever did this is a skilled surgeon. Zip-a Dee-Doo-Dah It looks so real. If I didn’t know better, I would say this is your original equipment. How is your sensitivity?”

Carol lightly ran a fingertip over the vulva, extracting a moan from Phyllis. “I guess that answers that question,” she said gleefully. “I have to ask. Is Phyllis a virgin?”

Phyllis smiled coyly and replied, “That all depends on your definition of virginity.”

Carol’s fingers continued to lightly tease her husband’s new play yard looking for evidence of abuse. While she had never been drawn to another woman sexually, this was a totally different situation. She knew that her husband was inside the very feminine package in front of her. What was most important was that she loved person and nothing else mattered. She rationalized away all those years of heterosexual conditioning by thinking there were far worse things than being in lesbian love with your husband.

Phyllis finally confessed, “There is this one particular vibrator that I have a special relationship with. I guess you could say we are going steady.”

Carol climbed up on the bed where she could kiss her ex-husband full on the lips. While they played kissy face, Carol’s hand found Phyllis’s breast. She lifted the huge breast from the confines of her bra. With access granted, she rolled its engorged nipple between her fingers. Phyllis shrieked with pleasure. The two spent the night lost in an orgy of blissful lesbian exploration. Each partner more concerned with the other’s happiness than their own.

The next morning, Carol was out of bed first and made breakfast. When Phyllis drove to her office to rejoin her practice, Carol stayed home and cleaned the house and did the laundry. She had never been the domestic type, but, seeing as she was unemployed, it seemed only right she returned to being the devoted housewife. After the house was spotless and a roast was in the oven, she decided to drive over to tell her parents about her engagement.

Her mother was less than thrilled. Though she did react positively when Carol asked her mother to be her maid of honor. Then she asked her mother to help her plan her wedding. While Liz was busy looking up florists, Carol took the opportunity to speak privately with her father.

“Dad, I am really conflicted, can you help me?”

“I can try what seems to be the problem?”

Carol, blushed crimson. “This is embarrassing, but last night I had sex with a woman, and I enjoyed it.”

Mike smiled and said, “I assume that woman was Phyllis. I am not that old fashioned. Having sex with your fiancé doesn’t sound like a problem to me.”

“But Dad, I am engaged to a woman. The thought I am gay is scary. It just doesn’t seem right, being sexually attracted to another woman, even if she used to be my husband.”

“Honey, gay or straight are only terms. You had sex with the person you love. Phil may now be encased in a different package; but underneath he is the same person he has always been. I am not a priest; however, I am sure God would only smile on your union. One made out of love.”

@ @ @ @

A month later, the wedding plans were coming along nicely. Phyllis was adamant he was going to be a bride this time around. There was some discussion about Carol wearing a tuxedo, and playing the man during the ceremony. That only lasted until Liz, Carol and Phyllis went shopping for a wedding dress. Carol felt left out until Phyllis interceded on her behalf. After the selection of her gown, Phyllis had the sales lady bring out a matching dress in Carol’s size. They would both be the bride for the service.

You needed a score card to keep it all straight. Mike would walk the two brides up the aisle and give them both away. A little unorthodox but the best solution, seeing as how Mike was the father of the bride, plus the best man.

After a lot of thought, both parties realized that this marriage was not going to be conventional by any stretch of the imagination. Phyllis was to be the bread winner, so Carol was relegated to being the domestic engineer.

They had three months to plan the ceremony. Wedding planning and housekeeping weren’t a full job, Carol was getting restless. Not practicing medicine was a lot harder on her than she initially thought it would be. Four years of medical school followed by 6 years of residency training were proving hard to just set aside. Being a doctor was what had always defined her. Now she was just a lowly stay at home wife.

Not being allowed to use her medical training was sending Carol into a deep depression. Mike and Phyllis both insisted that Carol seek professional help with an impartial counselor to deal with her depression and her megalomania. Phyllis also came up with a solution to keep Carol occupied. Carol was hired to work in his clinic. Not as a doctor, but rather as a consultant advising trans-girls on the best feminization surgical procedures.

Much to her lament, when her services weren’t needed as a consultant, she was assigned as the office’s assistant receptionist. Playing second fiddle to the receptionist, a high school dropout, was demeaning, but something that she resigned herself to do to the best of her abilities. At least she got to go to lunch with Phyllis every day. Most times it was just the two of them, yet about once a week the other girls in the office joined them for lunch, gossip and occasionally shopping.

@ @ @ @

The girls at the office decided to throw a bridal shower for both of the ladies. The party, turned rather rowdy as the liquor flowed rather freely. The place erupted when a cake was wheeled in. It was a replica of a man’s genitalia large enough to feed 30. It was while gathered around the cake that Chrissie cut a large piece of cake out of what was the left testicle and handed it to his wife.

Between bites, Sue casually mentioned to her husband, “It is a shame Carol can never have children. I know how much she wants them.”

Chrissie leaned in to his wife and whispered, “Can you keep a secret? There is a way Carol can have Phil’s child.”

Sue choked on the cake that she had been working on. Taking a large drink of her wine she responded, “Is that so, do tell.”

“Well… Phil told me in the strictest of confidence that he donated sperm while in school and the agency still has a sample frozen. Phyllis still gets letters from the agency on a yearly basis.” It took Sue all of a nanosecond to find Carol and pass the news along to her best friend.

At first, Carol was annoyed that her husband had kept that news from her. Her first impulse was to track down his specimen and get herself impregnated. Once it was a fait accompli and she was pregnant, she would let Phyllis know that, in addition, to being a wife, he was going to be a mother. After a couple of glasses of champagne, she calmed down and decided to talk it over with her spouse.

Over breakfast the next day, the two ladies nursed their orange juice and painkillers as they waited for their hangovers to let up. Carol mulled over the best way to bring up the subject her future wife’s stored sperm. She finally decided to do it the quickest way possible, i.e. pull the bandage off as fast as possible and get the pain over.

After Phyllis got over the frustration of Chris once again being the root of a situation with Carol, she admitted that she had never brought up the issue of Phil’s preserved sperm before Carol had castrated him, because had he always felt that when the time was right, they would have children the old fashioned way. A lively discussion over the advantages and disadvantages of adding to their family ensued. Phyllis finally agreed that it would be nice to expand their family, once some of their personal issues had be resolved and Carol agreed that made sense.

@ @ @ @

It was a wonderful wedding; they had reserved Inspiration Point at the Presidio of San Francisco with its breathtaking views of the San Francisco Bay for the ceremony. It had been a long time in reaching this point. There had been problems at work for Phyllis that had required that they postpone the ceremony from their original date and they had had to wait another two months for an open date.

Both brides wore matching Ivory wedding gowns. A huge contingent of the Bay area transgender community were in attendance. It was a raucous reception. The party went until sunset, when the park closed. The brides took a cab to the airport where they flew off for a two-week honeymoon at an all-inclusive resort in the Caribbean.

Their first stop upon reaching their hotel was to the hotel boutique. Carol bought a flowered bikini for herself. Despite a huge selection, they were unable to find anything that would fit Phyllis, so they had to special order a neon pink string bikini with a G-string design.

After charging everything to their room, the newlyweds retired to the honeymoon suit. They didn’t leave for two entire days. Living off of love and room service.

A call from the hotel boutique prompted the ladies to enjoy a day at the pool. Phyllis was extremely self-conscious about her suit as the small triangle patches on her chest barley covered her large nipples and their surrounding areola’s. She refused to leave their room until Carol had bought a modesty preserving cover up.

The newlyweds, ended up lounging around the large swimming pool. Because of the heat, Phyllis was forced to abandon her cover up. She laid on a chaise lounge overlooking the pool, with Carol next to him. There were a bevy of beautiful girls flocking in and around the pool. Despite days of lesbian coupling, which Carol had come to relish, she realized she was not attracted to the other females. Rather her eyes were drawn to one particular gorgeous pool boy with the body of an Adonis. Phyllis, on the other hand, found the playful young ladies to be arousing. She found herself taking frequent dips in the pool to cool off. In a twisted macabre turn of events, every time either Carol or Phyllis would look up, the young man was staring only at Phyllis. In frustration, Carol spoke to her mate, “It seems you have an admirer.”

Phyllis looked over the top of her sunglasses and replied, “I’ve noticed. I also noted you seem to be fascinated by him.”

“Of course I am, just because I’ve ordered dinner doesn’t mean I can’t continue to look at the dessert menu.”

Rather than be jealous, Phyllis simply responded, “I can’t blame you. With a body like that he would tempt a nun.”

“OMG Phyllis are you into men now that your plumbing has been reworked?”

“I’m not sure,” Phyllis confessed. “Your vibrating dildo is delightful; but I will admit that I am curious about what it would be like to be intimate with a flesh and blood man. You are obviously interested in him, how about I invite him back to our room.”

Carol became concerned that she was about to lose her spouse to the charms of a man with a penis. She was determined to let her husband-turned-wife do whatever made him happy. So, dry-eyed but deathly white, she conceded, “You can have him, I’ll stay here.”

Phyllis did a double take and responded “Don’t be an eejit, I didn’t mean for me. I know what you have given up and am just offering you a chance to sample manhood again.”

Carol playfully punched Phyllis on the arm. “I don’t what him for myself, perhaps we could share him?”

At that point, a waitress showed up and asked if the couple wanted anything to drink.

Phyllis asked for a Mai-tai, while Carol only ordered orange juice.

Phyllis gave his wife a quizzical look. “What’s going on?”

“Well if you must know, I am pregnant.”

Phyllis stuttered “Who, how, when?”

“About a month ago,” Carol admitted.

She let her husband stew in his own juices, then she went on, “The how was a turkey baster. As too who, it was your sperm. Our talk about having a baby really made me want to change things. My therapist has said that I’m doing well in my counselling and she thinks that I have turned myself around. Of course, I will never really be done seeing her, but it will be good for all three of us.” She patted her belly as she said that.

“Congratulations, you are about to be a mommy to Phil’s baby.”

The pool boy was left behind and the two retired to their suite for a night of lovemaking.