Oscar Night by Jennifer Brock

A flippant remark by a mild screenwriter to an obnoxious TV reporter snowballs into more than he had bargained for, at one of the most glamorous of events! (There's no actual TG stuff in this first part, but there will be. I promise.)

This is a work of fiction. Any similarities to actual persons alive or dead are purely coincidental, mostly.
Note that this story takes place in a time when Hollywood’s writers did not go on strike.

David Fine was still reeling with the sudden fame of having a second novel on the Bestsellers’ List, and now his adapted screenplay for his first novel, “Sublimation,” had been nominated for an Academy Award. His agent had negotiated the sale of the film rights to allow him to submit the first treatment before the studio shipped it out to other screenwriters, and the producers actually liked what he did with it, and now it turns out the academy liked it too! With the film for his second novel “Condensation” already under production, David felt like he’d finally made it.

L.A. was completely unlike the small Ohio mill town he’d spent most of his life in. His agent had found him a nice little bungalow in the Hollywood hills, but he was having trouble fitting in with the west coast scene. He’d only made one new friend so far — Claude Marsh, an up and coming fashion designer, who had arranged to do the costumes on “Sublimation.” He was a big fan of the novel and jumped at the chance to share in bringing his cherished characters to life. David and Claude met in an early production meeting for the film, and ended up forging a fast friendship based on mutual appreciation of the other’s work. Claude also helped David out socially, helping him hobnob with Hollywood society, occasionally fixing him up with models from his runway shows as his escort to the fancier events. Claude quickly called to congratulate him when the nominations were announced.

The Oscars ceremony was a whole new level of Hollywood social event, and David was completely out of his element. In his congratulatory phone call, Claude tried to calm him down. “Relax, David. I can help you out every step of the way. I can give you pointers on what to say to the press; I think I can get Maritza, you remember that leggy brunette you appreciated from my Milan show, to accompany you down the red carpet. And I insist on making you a custom tuxedo, appropriate for the biggest night of your life.” David accepted all of Claude’s offers, which would ultimately lead him in a direction he’d never expected.

***

So, when the big night arrived, Claude showed up at David’s townhouse in a rented limousine, accompanied by Maritza, a tall Venezuelan model he remembered seeing in one of Claude’s shows. She was stunning, in her three-inch heels she was taller than David, so he had to tilt his head up to see her eyes, so dark they were nearly black - they captivated him when she smiled her hello. She was dressed in a shimmering gold gown that was suspended only by the thinnest of straps that crisscrossed in the middle of her back. It slithered gracefully down her every contour, and she had contours aplenty - Claude bucked the trend of using famine-stricken heroin addicts shaped like thirteen-year-old boys as models, preferring softer more feminine curves for displaying his creations.

The long wavy brown hair that he remembered from the catwalk was piled up on top of her head, allowing her shoulders to be appreciated, with only a few corkscrew tendrils escaping from the knot. Her jewelry for the occasion was a pair of glistening ruby earrings in a teardrop shape, with a matching pendant that rested where David’s eyes lingered. She was light years out of his league — there was no way a vision like her would ever be interested in a regular date with a nobody like him, but at least he had this one special event to enjoy her company while he could. Claude interrupted the tableau to pour Maritza a glass of wine and show her to the sitting room where she could wait, while he herded David into the bedroom with a garment bag: “Let’s get you dressed.”

The tuxedo that Claude had designed was a bit unorthodox, but David trusted his friend’s taste. The shirt was crisp white linen, with six vertical pleats on each side of the front buttons. Its gold cufflinks had small square rubies which nicely echoed his date’s jewelry. Instead of the usual black, the jacket and pants were of a deep red wine or maybe more of a cranberry colored soft woolen blend. The cut was very flattering on David’s rather average figure, but he was a little uneasy about the color. “Are you sure about this, Claude?”

His friend was very reassuring. “Trust me on this. Would I steer you wrong? Color is the next big thing. Besides, when you make your entrance you’ll be on the red carpet, and its color is so bold, you’ll look just barely tinted in contrast! The tie and cummerbund are black, if it’s any consolation.”

“But I look like a pimp!”

“No you don’t. You look fine. You’re just nervous about the award.”

Eventually, Claude was able to convince him that he’d fit in just fine at the awards, and David was able to calm down. A pair of pointed-toe black Italian calfskin shoes completed the outfit. Claude had originally planned on tying David’s longish hair back with a ribbon into a little ponytail, Revolutionary War style, but he decided not to push his luck, and just ran a few drops of gel through to slick his hair back.

When Claude brought him out to his escort, David noticed that Maritza had been flipping through the manuscript he’d left out on his desk while she was waiting for him to get ready. She looked up when they entered the room, gave him the once over, and clucked her tongue in a sound of approval. “Very sharp. I like the color.” Realizing she’d been caught looking at his papers, she added “I hope you don’t mind me peeking. Claude got me hooked on your other books to help with my English, and I couldn’t help myself to see what your next one will be.”

Knowing that this angel liked his words banished all thoughts of his new suit. “That’s ok, but that copy’s just a draft with notes from my editor written all over it — it’ll be better when it’s finished. I’ll make sure you get a copy. Your English sounds fine to me. I can’t hear any accent.”

“I’ve been working in America since I was fourteen, but sometimes when I get excited or nervous, you can tell I didn’t speak English as my first language.”

Claude wanted to pout, since David never let him read his drafts, but let it go. He hurried them out to the car, where the driver was looking bored, rushing to hide the issue of Variety he’d been reading. In Hollywood, everyone’s secretly a frustrated actor. Claude told the driver to let David and Maritza off at the red carpet, and then take him to his home in Brentwood where he’d be hosting a party to watch the awards. Claude didn’t like attending big Hollywood media events like the Oscars, where he couldn’t be the center of attention since so many movie stars would be there. He wished David luck when they arrived at the Chandler Pavilion.

***

The Red Carpet was a whole new experience for him. Taking Maritza’s arm, he tried to ignore the sea of flashbulbs and walk on past. “Who are you wearing?” he heard the paparazzi shout. David wasn’t sure if they were talking to him, but his companion knew what to do.

“Claude Marsh,” she called out, giving a slight twirl. Of course, neither of the couple was an A List celebrity, so the reporters really didn’t care.

Further down the carpet, the TV reporters crowded the ropes. David knew he wasn’t famous enough for them to bother, so he was ready to just stroll past when he was stopped. “You there in the Santa suit! Aren’t you that writer guy?” He turned. It was Jane Waters, the notorious “fashion reporter” from that Hollywood news cable channel. She made her name as an insult comedienne back in the eighties, so her fashion reports tended to consist primarily of her making fun of what people were wearing. Unfortunately for our hero, she had found her next victim. She called him over.

Not knowing how to get out of it, David went back to where Jane was set up. “Yes, I’m David Fine, the writer guy. This lovely lady is Maritza Delgado, one of the shining stars of the catwalk.”

She wouldn’t be distracted. “Whatever. I want to talk about your red suit. What happened? You lose a bet or something?”

“No. A friend of mine made me this.” David was confused. Claude had told him this was fashionable.

“Is your friend a lounge singer? You look like you belong in a piano bar at a two-bit hotel by the airport. No sane man would dare wear anything but a black tuxedo to a prestigious event like this!” Now she was lecturing at him like he was five. “Don’t you see all the other people going into the auditorium? Look around — all the men are in black tuxes. The only color you see is in the gowns on the women. Whatever gave you the idea that you could wear a red suit?”

“It’s a very dark red,” he tried.

“Not dark enough, Buddy. Maybe you book guys don’t go to too many black tie affairs, but the dress code is something everyone in Beverly Hills knows.”

“Well, my tie _is_ black.” He was getting flustered.

“That doesn’t matter. All the other tuxes on the actors, producers, directors, everyone, including the other writers that don’t get out much, are black. Let’s look around.” She pointed to other people processing down the red carpet: “He’s in a black tux; he’s in a black tux; and even that little fruity actor and his boyfriend over there are in black! But you do see a whole rainbow of colors on the women that are with them. She’s in a blue Versace gown; she’s in a beautiful lavender Donna Karan; there’s a silver Vera Wang, over there’s a classic beauty in a vintage Halston in a more exciting shade of red than yours, and here’s a lovely golden Whatshisname gown beside you. In fact, if you wanted to wear a different color than black, you should have just worn a gown and you’d fit in perfectly.” She laughed at her own joke, a dry braying that couldn’t be ignored.

David was getting irritated, wondering why she wasn’t off bothering some real famous person, instead of picking on some poor novelist, even if he is wearing a pimp suit. He couldn’t let her know he actually agreed with her that wearing a red tuxedo was a mistake, so he thought he could toss off a witty sound bite and beat her at her own game. “I’ll tell you what, Jane. If I’m nominated again next year, I’ll wear a gown. But now I’ve really got to get into the theater.” He turned to Maritza and walked boldly on down the carpet. Jane was dumfounded and couldn’t come up with a reply fast enough for her camera to catch.

His casual remark would come to haunt him.

Watching at home on the widescreen television he’d rented for his Oscar party, Claude was dumbfounded. That cow knows nothing about fashion! How could she do that to poor David? He didn’t deserve her mockery. And to forget Claude’s name was the biggest insult of all! But at least David had gotten the last laugh. Or did he? For the rest of the night, every time she interviewed a man, she’d comment on the blackness of his tuxedo, and ask each woman if she thought her gown would look good on “a stupid writer guy.” He hid his anger behind a mask of “congenial host,” and the six appletinis that he consumed during the red carpet portion of the program rendered him nicely toasted by the time the actual awards rolled around.

But inside, he plotted his revenge. He was going to have to find some way to make that no-talent “fashion critic” eat her words. If David did get nominated again the next year, (and the buzz about “Condensation” was good enough that it just might happen) Claude was going to have to design his best creation ever, one that would knock Jane Waters’ support hose off!

***

David didn’t win. The prize for adapted screenplay went to a couple who’d turned a news article about flooding in the Heartland into a movie that focused on one family’s struggle to save their farm from the rising waters of the mighty river. He graciously applauded his opponent, but couldn’t help but be disappointed.

Maritza shared in his loss. When the clapping was over, she leaned over and whispered in his ear. “You should have won. They do not know what they are doing, voting for that mud picture!” She then kissed him, giving his earlobe a nibble. “I will just have to see what I can do to cheer you up when I take you home.” She punctuated this sentence by giving the top of his thigh a playful squeeze.
Were there other awards given that night? David couldn’t tell you; his brain was stuck in an image that it couldn’t release — a beautiful, sexy model was flirting with him, and promising... things. She was gorgeous beyond anyone he’d ever been with, and the idea of a one-night stand with her was occupying all his attention. He really had no idea what was going on onstage, and didn’t applaud with the rest of the crowd when he was supposed to.

As the Lifetime Achievement Award was being presented, Maritza had to nudge David to stand up with the audience to show respect for the gifted director whose films had brought appreciation to generations. She was worried, since he hadn’t been paying attention to all the spectacle going on. It seemed as though he’d become withdrawn and depressed after he didn’t win. He was a good man, and she didn’t like to see him sad. Although less rugged than the men she usually dated, there was something about him that interested her. He was cute in his way, if a little soft and short for her taste. But he was sweet and smart, and from the way he wrote the characters in his books she could tell he really understood women. And the way Claude had talked of him; she knew he was a good friend. There was real potential there. Her plan was that she’d check out how good he was in bed that night, and see if it would be worth pursuing anything long term.

Unfortunately, their evening would have a different ending. When they left the pavilion, their limo driver had some difficulty working around the traffic, which allowed them some time for conversation. Maritza leaned over onto his shoulder and tried talking to him about all the movie stars she’d seen, but David was so nervous he just made one word comments, and she couldn’t really draw him out. Neither of them was really feeling up for going to anyone’s after party. Thinking he was still down, she turned and kissed him firmly and deeply, thinking it could get his mind off his trouble. He was shocked, and at first he responded a little stiffly, but then he realized that he was blowing it with his dream girl, so he relaxed and returned the kiss. One kiss led to another, and soon it didn’t matter that he was having trouble talking to her. He reached out his arms and held her, although he wasn’t confident enough to let his hands explore her exciting contours very much.

But faster than either of them realized, the limousine pulled into David’s driveway. David was flustered and clumsily broke the embrace like a teenager whose father had just turned on the lights. The driver came around and opened the car, and David steeped out and then turned to give his date a hand getting out of the car. He asked clumsily, “Would you like to come in?” She giggled at his awkwardness and reminded him that she’d already told him she was coming in. He had absolutely no experience with women this forward, so he blushed. Maritza found it cute and charming, but then noticed the driver standing there and had to whisper to David that limo drivers usually get a tip before they leave. He blushed again, grabbed his wallet, and gave the driver a twenty. Having been paid, the driver thanked them, tipped his cap and drove off. David escorted Maritza to the door, and almost couldn’t find the right key, but when he took hold of the doorknob, he saw that the door wasn’t locked. This wasn’t good.

Upon cautiously entering the house, he saw that Claude was there sitting on the couch! David regretting giving him a key that time he went on a book signing tour and needed someone to water his plants. Claude was very excited about something. “Oh good, you’re home! We have to get started as soon as possible on a plan! A year is scarcely enough time to get you ready. Oh, Maritza, I didn’t see you there. Could I get your jewelry back, since you’re here anyway? It’s on loan.”

David tried to ask, “Claude, what are you doing here? I have no idea what you’re talking about, and you seem more than a little drunk. Can I call you a cab?”

Maritza just stood there, getting irritated that her plans were being interrupted.

But Claude wasn’t listening. “I’ve got some preliminary sketches here! We’ll show that ignorant bitch she doesn’t know who she’s messing with! When we’re done you’ll be the hottest thing ever to strut down the red carpet!”

David looked from his friend to his date and back, trying to figure out how to get the crazy drunk guy out of his house, and not ruin his evening. “Claude, I’m not sure what you’re going on about, but I’m sure it can wait until tomorrow. But you’re a little drunk, so I’m going to get you a cab to take you home. Maritza, I’m sorry. Once I get him out of here we can…”

Claude cut him off. “What? You think you have a shot with her?” He laughed. “She’s a professional body, and can get guys with professional bodies! You barely eat right, and you never work out! You’re a bag of Jell-O; there’s no way she’d be interested in you. Besides, you’re a brilliant novelist and she’s an airhead model; you can do so much better than her.” Seeing Maritza starting to fume, he added, “Don’t take it personally, Sweetie. All models are airheads. You make great arm candy for an event, but you sex on wheels types go through guys like water, and I don’t want you to hurt my friend. I’m sometimes your boss so you’d better do what I say.”

That sent her over the edge. “You want my jewelry back? Fine. Here it is!” And she unclasped her necklace, pulled out her earrings and threw them at Claude. “Hey! You made this dress, too,” she shouted and, reaching around behind her back, she unzipped her dress and let it drop to the floor. Dressed only in her stockings, high heels, and the smallest pair of panties David had ever seen, she stepped out of the gown, bent down, picked it up, and threw it at Claude. “Here, you can have this back, too!” Then she went behind the couch and fetched the overnight bag she’d left there earlier, and stomped off into the bathroom.

David finally took a breath when he was shaken out of his stupor by Claude’s comment as he held up the garment that had been thrown at him. “This style wouldn’t work on you. Yours will need more definition.”

“Mine? My what?”

“Your gown, Silly. The one you promised Jane Waters you’ll be wearing next year! That’s what I came over for — so we can start planning your outfit.”

Finally, David understood, and he was flabbergasted. “You came over here in the middle of the night to interrupt my date with an incredible woman, because of a joke I made with a fashion reporter? To plan an outfit for an event a year away? That I might not even get nominated for? Claude, you’re a great guy, usually. But you’re just going overboard on this way too soon. Wait until next year to bother me about this, if Jane Waters even remembers. Now I’m going to call you a cab, and send you home, and then I’m going to try to make it up to the girl in the next room.”

Maritza’s heels clacking back down the hallway gave her away. She was wearing a simple little black dress that covered a little more shoulder, but showed a lot more leg than her gown did, and had let her hair down. Her bag was slung over her left shoulder, and her cell phone was in her right hand. She loudly snapped it closed. “Don’t bother calling a cab for him. I had them send two - one for me, one for him.” She walked over to where David was sitting and leaned over and kissed him on the forehead. “I’m sorry, but I am just too mad at him right now. Angry sex can be good sex, but it is too animal for your first time with me. I think you need it soft and gentle when you are sad like this about your award. It will take me hours to fall asleep now, and I have to fly to New York in the morning.” She snatched a paper from the stack of sketches Claude was holding and wrote on it with her lipstick. “I will have my phone on when I’m not working. Here is my number.” She took his face in her hands and kissed him again. She pulled on his bowtie and untied it, undid his top button, and tousled his hair. Don’t be sad, David,” and she thickened her accent to pull his name out as Dah-VEED. “You will see me again.” And as a mischievous smirk came to her lips she threw in, “So, what did you think of my breasts? Do they suit your taste?”

Dumbfounded, David had to take a moment to answer. But then he was saved by a beeping horn, as two taxis from apparently the most efficient car service in LA County had arrived at his driveway, and his guests had to go. He would have liked to walk Maritza to her car, but he had to partially carry Claude to his. What a strange night! It was a pity about losing the award, though.

Oscar Night by Jennifer Brock Last time, Novelist/Screenwriter David Fine made a comment to a fashion reporter that may find him in a gown if he's nominated for an Academy Award again. This time, his budding romance with fashion model Maritza Delgado makes a few more strides, as the scheming of his friend clothing designer Claude Marsh helps smooth things over for David.

Part 2
It took a couple weeks after the Oscars for Claude and David to go back to the way things were. One apology after another, followed by a free lunch at this new Italian place was all it took for Claude to patch things up with David, letting the issue about wearing a gown at the next year’s awards go, for the moment. David screwed up his courage to call Maritza three times, but always he got her voice mail. It was very disappointing! He had thought that he had a shot with her, but maybe she really was out of his league after all. Fortunately, David was able to work out his frustration energies by throwing himself into his work. He spent most of his waking hours sitting at his word processor, implementing the changes his editor had requested, and he actually thought it made the story better. After another week had passed, he got a call.

It was Maritza. A cascade of words quickly poured out: “David, I’m sorry. I just got your messages. The first weekend I was here, we went out dancing to a bunch of new clubs, and I left my phone in one of them. Then I was so busy I forgot about it, but my agent had to track me down — I’m staying with some friends from the catwalk, and she didn’t have the number here, so she had to catch me at the catalog shoot and tell me to turn my phone on, and then I realized it was missing, and we had to go all over town trying to remember where I left it. And then we found it, at this place where the owner was really nice and remembered us — six sexy models in our tiny club dresses can really make an impression on a guy! But the battery was dead, and my charger was in LA, and I tried to borrow Nikki’s charger because our phones are the same brand, but mine is a better one so the little thing on the end of the wire wasn’t the right shape for the little hole on my phone, so we had to wait until we got a day off and I could get a new charger, but the catalog wasn’t going well; the photographer wanted to try something weird with fans blowing around, but the hairdresser got mad that she didn’t have the right spray for windy styles, and tried to walk out, but then the designer said the wind was a stupid idea, and they all fought while we stood around, so it took extra long and we never got a break, but at least we got paid for the extra time, so there was a good thing in there almost! So finally yesterday we went shopping and I got a new charger and the little book thing says it has to go overnight, so I plugged it in and turned it on today when I got out of bed and there were twenty-nine messages, so I had to go through them, and half of them were from my agent, and some were from friends who wanted to know if I was in town, and one was from my mama, and one was an apology from your stupid friend, and there were three from you, and when I heard how sad you were in the last one, I realized I hurt you by mistake because I wasn’t there for you to call even though I told you to, and I had to call you back, but I can never get the different times between the east coast and the west coast right, so I hope it’s not to early for you for me to call now. I’m really, really sorry.”

Then she paused for air, and David was overwhelmed with new information. But he knew he should say something. “That’s ok. I’ve been focusing on my work, and was able to finish making my editor’s changes to that book you saw me working on. It sounds like you’ve had a rough couple of weeks! I never would have imagined how tough your job is.”

She was insistent. “You are being too nice. I was rude. I told you to call me, but then I wasn’t there to answer the phone. I will have to do something to make it up to you when I get back to California, but that’s not for another month.”

David had a brainstorm. “Now that I think about it, my publisher’s office is in New York. I usually send my manuscript with a courier service, but I could hand-deliver it myself, and visit you while I’m there.” Then, remembering who he was and who he was talking to, he added, “if you’re going to have any free time, and wouldn’t mind spending some of it with me?”

“Yes, I would like to see you again! I will be very busy for another week, but I will be free for the next three weekends. Call me when you know your schedule. I promise I will answer my phone, or return your message faster this time! Now I am very happy and excited! Thank you for cheering me up! I hope to see you soon, Cutie!”

When he got off the phone, he was in a bit of a daze. What had just happened? He made a date with a model and she said yes? He couldn’t believe it. Then the panic hit him. He had a date, and he was going to mess it up somehow. He knew even less of the New York scene than he did in LA. How far do you go on a second date? Was she expecting sex? Would he be any good at it if she was? What was he going to wear? She’d only seen him in formal. That gave him an idea — he’d get Claude to help him get ready; he knew models, he knew New York, he could tell him what to wear.

***

So it was that David found himself twelve days later in the lobby of a Manhattan apartment building. Following his friend’s advice, he was wearing a grey silk shirt, a pair of sharply creased khakis, and a navy blue blazer. For luck, he had on the same shoes he wore to the Oscars, the shoes he wore when she kissed him, since there was nothing else in that outfit that he wanted to wear ever again. Feeling three nervous beads of sweat running down his back, he inhaled sharply, held his breath, and pressed the button for her friends’ apartment number. An unfamiliar female voice came through the intercom, “Hey baby, come on up!” and before he could say who he was and who he was there for, the buzzer sounded, and he rushed to open the door. After a painful ride in the world’s slowest elevator, he made his way to a door. Fighting the panic, he knocked.

The door was opened and David came face to face with a pair of remarkably tanned breasts rushing towards him that were barely covered by some filmy fuchsia thing that was held up by silver threads. They nearly crushed into his face as he was being embraced by some stranger. The moment became even more awkward when she stepped back and said, “You’re not Blake.” Now that he had a better look at her, he saw that she was a tall, willowy blonde with sparkling blue eyes and a confused look on her face. Besides the gossamer top, she wore a tight white skirt about three inches long, from which an impressive pair of legs ran down to high white platform heels.

“Hi,” he said. “I’m David Fine. I’m here to pick up Maritza. Is this the right place?”

He could almost hear the light bulb going on in her head. “Oh! Hi. I’m Sam. Sorry about that before. I thought you were someone else.” She then called out to the room behind her, “Hey, Ritz’s guy is here!” As she realized that David was still standing in the hall, she opened the door wider. “Come on in and take a seat. Meet everyone. She’s not ready yet.”

David stepped through the door and looked around. The apartment was smaller than he’d expected, from what he’d seen of Manhattan apartments on television. Sam led him through the foyer and down a short hallway, where it opened up into a living room where seven people were sitting on three overstuffed couches. Feeling the need to make amends for her mistake at the door, Sam acted as hostess and introduced everyone. “Over there are Amanda, Laney, Brendan, and Troy,” indicating the people sitting on the couch to the left, pointing out each one as she named them.

Amanda was a thin, pale redhead wearing a tight emerald green silky dress that looked like a negligee. Laney was a delicate Asian woman with waist-length black hair, wearing a bright red cropped tank top that showed off the sparkling jewel in her navel and a pair of ridiculously low-cut and impossibly tight jeans. Brendan was a ruggedly handsome man hanging on Laney’s arm. He must have been at least a foot taller than David. He was wearing gray slacks made out of some kind of shiny material, and a blue shirt with a wider collar than anything in David’s wardrobe, with its top two buttons unbuttoned to show off a smooth, muscular chest. Troy was a tall, lithe black guy, with a shaved head and gold hoops in both ears. His black jeans were almost as tight as Laney’s, and his charcoal silk shirt was completely unbuttoned, revealing a set of muscles that were as hairless as Brendan’s.

David figured that they all must be models, too. There was something in the way Troy looked him over that made him very uncomfortable in a way that he sometimes got from Claude’s boyfriends. Sam continued with the introductions, “And over here are Nikki, Kendra and Chance,” pointing at the other couch.

Nikki was one of those rail-thin models that look like teenage boys or heroin addicts, yet somehow she made that look work. After first noticing her brilliant yellow dress covered in shimmering sequins, his gaze was then drawn to a tousled mass of hair the color of spun honey spilling down over her shoulders, but then her soulful amber eyes captivated him and David had to let out an unconscious gasp. Kendra was a tall, lean brunette in a knee-length black dress that seemed to be made of lace, and he caught himself wondering if it was really that see-through or if it had some kind of lining the same color as her tan. Chance had his arm around Kendra and flashed a peace sign when his name was mentioned. He wasn’t as muscled as Troy and Brendan, but he had the same kind of impossible good looks — sparkling blue eyes, cheekbones that could cut glass, and short, spiky brown hair with blonde tips. He was dressed more like a regular guy than the other two, in what appeared to be a pink and black bowling shirt and a pair of black chinos.

Laney was the first of the group to speak up. “What’s that you’re holding? Most guys bring their dates a gift, but that doesn’t look like a bottle of wine or a bouquet of roses. That better not be a box of chocolates! Do you know how wrong it is to bring candy to an apartment full of models?”

He looked down at what he was carrying. “No, this box here is a copy of the manuscript I just sent to my publisher. Maritza had peeked at a draft of it when she was at my place, and I’d promised to let her read it when it was done.”

Nikki chimed in. “I think she did say you wrote books. What’s it about?”

“It’s a character study about a newly widowed woman trying to find her place while fighting to keep her kids from being taken away.” He would have continued, but her confused expression let him know not to.

Amanda tried to contribute. “Books are silly. I tried to read that wizard boy book everybody was talking about, but it was just so much easier to watch it as a movie.”

He would have gone into his usual diatribe about books vs. film, but instead opted for the politer route. “I’ve had two books made into movies. Did you see Sublimation?”

Sam cut him off. “Hey! That’s where I remember you from. You’re the guy who took Ritz to the Oscars! Remember when we saw her on TV, guys?”

Nikki added the part David didn’t want anyone to remember, “Yeah, you were the guy in that red suit. You said you’d wear a gown next year.”

Troy’s eyes widened. “Really? Do tell.” And Nikki gave a more or less accurate account of his Red Carpet encounter with Jane Waters.

David had never felt more out of place in his life. These were not his people. What was he doing here? What had ever made him think he could be a part of Maritza’s life, when she was one of the beautiful people and he was still the dumpy bookworm he was in high school, who could never hang with the cool kids?

Amanda, wanting to contribute to the conversation, decided to change the subject. “Hey, something you probably don’t know is that two of the people in this room used to go out with Ritz. I bet you can’t you guess which two of us it was!”

David answered cautiously. “It’s got to be Chance and Brendan, right?”

“Nope. It was me and Troy,” she giggled. “You weren’t paying attention! I said it was two of *us* - giving you a hint that I was one of them, since I didn’t say ‘two of them.’ Didn’t Ritz tell you she goes both ways?”

Now the panic was really hitting him. The incredible person that he’d gotten his heart’s hopes wrapped around is attracted to a woman and an apparently gay guy? What does that say about David’s image? This was just too confusing and very uncomfortable, and he could tell that they all were laughing at him not with him. He wanted to run, to get back to his old safe boring life, forgetting he ever met these people!

Then, he heard footsteps behind him and turned to see his angel coming down the hall. There she was — a vision in a silky wisp of a little black dress — thin straps slid down her shoulders to a deep plunging neckline around her perfect breasts, and the soft fabric clung tightly to her waist, then softy pleated outward to ruffles that danced down from her hips. Her legs were bare, and her feet were scantily shod in a pair of tall sandals. Her hair was a loose mass of brown waves, and her eyes sparkled a smile when they met his. Although he wasn’t panicking anymore, his heart still raced.

Maritza loved being able to grab his full attention just by entering the room. This one definitely had possibilities. She giggled at his wide-eyed stare. Trying for the easiest way to snap him out of it, she sashayed right up to him, leaned her head down, tenderly grabbed his face, tipped up his chin and kissed him deeply and thoroughly. Her friends, who had been peeking in from the next room, made various gasps and whistles and other sounds of surprise. But it gave her almost as much of a kick to shake them up, so that was an extra treat. She released him and let him breathe.

“Um, wow. Hi,” David stammered. It was unbelievable — someone like her was actually interested in him! As the blood started flowing back to his brain, he remembered. “Here. I brought you a copy of my manuscript, like I promised,” and handed her the bound sheets of plain white paper tied with a red ribbon that he’d been holding.

“Thanks. No one’s ever given me a book that hasn’t been published yet before,” she smiled and looked around for a place to put it. She shouted back to the party room, “I’m setting my book on the hall table here. None of you are allowed to read it until I do, so don’t touch it.” Dismissive laughter answered her. They weren’t what you’d call readers. She grabbed a small black handbag from where it hung on a peg in the hallway and led David out the door. He was surprised Maritza didn’t have a coat or a wrap or something, since the weather wasn’t quite spring yet. Maybe he’d just been in California too long.

Soon, David was showing Maritza to where he’d left his cab waiting. When he opened the door for her, she decided to reward her gentleman with another kiss before stepping in. As she pressed close to suck on his tongue, David noticed that the brisk air and her filmy dress had combined to perk up Maritza’s nipples. His memory flashed back to the time he saw her nearly naked in his hallway, and he felt himself perking up as well. He hoped she didn’t notice, and helped her into the cab, planning to run around to the other side and avoid embarrassment. No such luck. She grabbed his neck as she sat down and pulled him in after her. He closed the door. She told the driver an address then spent the rest of the ride molesting her date. He was a better kisser than she’d expected. She decided that this thing might actually work.

David was surprised to find out that her favorite restaurant was a Thai place. He’d have thought she’d go for something South American, but.her explanation was that if you’re in the city where all the corners of the globe come together, why go somewhere just like home when you can explore the world instead? Seeing her slurp spicy noodles made her look different in David’s eyes — doing something sloppy and indelicate seemed to make her more like a real person than an unattainable ideal, but at the same time she was just cuter than he had ever realized. Without Gorgeous getting in the way, Cute can really shine.

Over dinner, they discussed how each of them ended up in their respective careers. Maritza had been discovered by a photographer scouting locations for a fashion magazine. He came to the small coastal city where she lived to check out whether there was anything in the landscape that would be new or different, and when he was shooting some pictures of the beach he noticed her sunning herself with a couple of friends. She was only thirteen, but he could see her potential — the camera clearly loved her. He took her and her mother to Caracas for a series of test shots, had her sign some papers, and got them a meeting with one of Venezuela’s biggest agencies. The rest is history.

So far she’d been a in the business for eleven years and didn’t regret it. She had done work in America and England and France and Italy, and had filed papers to become an American citizen to make it easier to wait around between jobs, and her friends had taught her enough of the culture that she rarely stood out as a foreigner when she didn’t want to. At twenty-four she had doubts that she’d ever be an internationally famous supermodel. If you don’t hit big before you’re twenty-five, you never will. David’s opinion was that she was just being modest, but he really had no idea how the modeling business works, despite all the times Claude had tried to teach him about the fashion industry. And it did make him a little self-conscious to realize that even though he was eight years older than his date, she had seen far more of the world than he had.

David, for his part, had played a more active role in his discovery as an author. He’d gone to college to study chemistry, but while he was at school the processing plant in his hometown closed down, and he’d really been looking forward to going back after graduation. So he switched majors in his junior year to journalism, hoping to get a job with the old-fashioned small town newspaper. Reality was a sharp slap in the face when he found out that a major publishing corporation had bought the local paper years ago, and now all that the local office produced was a couple of pages of regional stories, and the rest of the pages came from the corporate headquarters. He tried to get a job writing for those few pages, but there were no openings. The best he was able to manage was writing occasional freelance human interest stories, so he had to take a meaningless job as night manager of a department store to pay the bills.

He couldn’t just leave town and go find a better job somewhere else because he had family obligations. His grandmother was in a local nursing home, and he was the only family she had left locally. He couldn’t just abandon her like all his cousins had. His grandmother had taken over when twelve-year-old David’s parents had died, so he wanted to stay close to her. Once when he was visiting the home, he was talking with her neighbors, since old folks tend to have a lot of stories in them, and one could be worth interviewing for one of his puff pieces. This one old guy, Mr. Sylvester, told a sweet tale about how he’d gone off to war with a picture of his girlfriend to keep him company every night, but it had gotten lost the day before a big battle where he got shot in the leg, and when they shipped him home, she married him. David didn’t think the paper would want to buy Mr. Sylvester’s story, but he wrote it up just for practice.

As he was writing it, he thought of various ways the story would have been more compelling if events were changed. Rather than trying to submit his modified story as journalism like some notorious writers, he realized that he was now writing a piece of fiction and having fun doing so. He kept revising and rewriting the story until the only remaining element of the original is that it happened during wartime. On a whim, he sent it off to a literary magazine and they accepted it. A few more stories followed, and then he was contacted by a publishing agent. They wanted to know if he had any larger works. He didn’t, but he had some ideas.

He spent a couple years working on his first novel, and sent it off to them. His agent found a publisher that liked it, hooked him up with an editor, and he earned enough to quit his day job. His second novel was much easier to write. As he was finishing it, two major events happened. First, his grandmother had a stroke and couldn’t recover — her passing hit David greatly. But then he got the call that Sublimation had been optioned for a movie. After a meeting where he was able to convince the producers to give him a shot at adapting his own screenplay, he decided to leave Ohio for good and move to Hollywood. It still felt very new to him.

***

After comparing histories, they realized that they really did have quite a bit in common, coming from smaller towns to make it out in the big wide world. Then they noticed that they’d finished eating an hour ago, and the restaurant would want their table back. Maritza suggested moving the conversation to David’s hotel room. While he rummaged through the mini-bar, she kicked off her shoes, threw her purse in a chair, and snuck up behind him. “It was sweet of you to try to be a good host, but we don’t need anything from there,” she said, taking his hand and pulling him upright. “What we want is over here,” and she led him over to the bed.

She sat him on the edge of the bed. Then she did a sort of shrug and a wiggle, and suddenly her dress was at her feet and she stood there in front of him absolutely, completely, wonderfully nude! Her perfect breasts bounced at him, and David reached out to take hold of her magnificent hips, but she waggled her finger at him and pushed his arms back, “No, no! No hands!” He leaned forward to kiss her, but she backed up and he early fell over. From his new vantage point, David could see that her body was completely devoid of hair. Wow. Maritza noticed him staring and giggled. She stepped up so she was straddling his lap, and took the rubber band out of his little ponytail. “I like hair I can run my fingers through,” she said, and started unbuttoning his shirt.

David fought the urge touch her, remembering her admonishment. He reached up his face and kissed her collarbone. “Good boy. Follow the rules,” she encouraged him. It was weird — even though he was the only one with clothes still on, she was completely in control of the situation; he was surprised to realize that he liked it. He’d never quite been comfortable having to assert himself with women, even in a relationship it just felt uncomfortably aggressive for him to insist on taking charge all the time. Sitting back and passively letting Maritza drive just felt right.

When she had his shirt removed, she then pulled his undershirt off over his head, and pushed him down onto the bed, spreading his arms out to his side almost like a crucifix. She played her fingers across his mat of chest hair, and wrinkled her nose slightly. She bent down and kissed him full on the mouth, then nibble-kissed her way down his neck to his chest, taking extra time to run her tongue around his nipples and give them each a sucking kiss. Spitting out a hair, she said, “Have you ever though about waxing?” David just made a happy moan in response.

She continued working her way down to his navel, where she stuck her tongue in and made a slurping noise. Then it was time to continue undressing him. She turned around and gave David a view of her magnificent bottom while she pulled off his shoes and socks, then surprised him by sitting on his stomach to unfasten his belt. He couldn’t see what she was doing, but he heard unzipping. He craned his neck and kissed the small of her back. She let out a surprised gasp and nimbly dismounted him, rolling over to bring her face to his for another deep kiss.

She then got up and walked to his feet, and pulled his pants off by the cuffs. He lifted his legs to make it easier for her. She told him to move up and lie on the bed completely. Seeing this exquisite goddess before him, he felt very inadequate lying there in only his boxers, seeing his pale body, with what looked like the beginning of a beer gut, exposed to the world. How could someone like that possibly be interested in this?

His thoughts were interrupted when she crawled in on top of him and smiled. “You deserve a reward for being so patient,” she said, and placed her right breast near his face. David took the hint and gently kissed around it, spiraling in towards the bull’s-eye. He nibbled around the areola, slipping just the tip of his tongue into each kiss, but when he got to the actual nipple he brought his lips close without actually touching, and softly blew on it. Maritza was impressed — she’d expected him to just crudely suckle; David was clearly not as innocent as he seemed. She involuntarily let out a small moan. It felt so good, she shifted and let him have a go at her other breast, which he took care of in the same expert manner. She kissed him in appreciation, and then moved around so that she lay next to him.

Placing her hand on his now noticeably tented boxers she asked in mock surprise, “What have we here? This deserves a closer look.” She flipped around and kneeled beside his hip, then slipped her left hand inside his waistband and carefully took hold of him, and pulled his boxers down with her right — if she’d just ripped them down, his “things” might have been damaged. She let go and finished taking his shorts off. She gave his penis a small kiss, just behind the tip, being careful to avoid any of his fluids, just in case.
She then carefully opened a condom and unrolled it onto him. “I won’t let you inside me without one of these until we’re sure we’re a thing and you swear you won’t sleep with anyone else when I’m not there, and also if you get tested for everything and show me the test and it says you’re all clean.” Noticing a confused expression on his face she added, “I don’t mean to kill the mood, but my job depends on my health being perfect.”

“No, that’s ok. I understand,” David’s confusion was really from trying to figure out where she got the condom. He wasn’t expecting they’d be going this far on a second date, so he hadn’t been carrying one, and she was completely naked, with nowhere to carry one — unless... To banish this train of thought, he sat up and took her in his arms. “And I really hope we do become a thing. You are incredible!” he said pulling her into a tender kiss.

“Hey! I didn’t say you could use your hands yet,” she teased as they broke the kiss. She pushed him back down and straddled him. Then she raised herself up and guided him into her — it was a nice fit. “Okay, you can touch me now,” as she laid down onto him and started slowly rocking her hips. He easily matched her rhythm, and used his freed hands to stroke her breasts and gently knead her buttocks as they rose and fell.

They moved in synchronized harmony, which was a new experience for Maritza. She was used to guys who were all about hard, fast pounding thrusts, like having sex with a locomotive. But David was soft and slow, building intensity gradually, and he did something whenever he was in to full depth that made it jump or swell up or something and it just hit the right spot inside her. Sex with David wasn’t the kind of competition it is with some guys, where they’re always checking and asking how they were doing, to make sure they were “the best she ever had.” Instead, he was just feeling what she was doing and responding to it. She didn’t have to fake enthusiasm, either. Her real noises were enough to show that. David had been holding himself back to make sure of her satisfaction, but finally he let go on her third orgasm, making it a true climax. This wasn’t sex — this was making love. This guy could be The One.

They embraced tightly and shared a kiss. She carefully got up and went into the bathroom and got a towel, then carefully took off the condom and cleaned him up. She picked up his undershirt from the floor and pulled it on over her head, then handed him his boxers, and slipped under the covers.

David was exhausted from pulling out every technique from his repertoire, but cuddled up with a beautiful woman in his arms, he had a great deal of trouble falling asleep. It was like one of those moments when you think reality might be a dream and if you fall asleep in the dream you could wake up back in the lonely, miserable, empty reality you’re supposed to have. Eventually, the soft breathing of the one beside him lulled him to sleep. When he woke up, she was still there. It wasn’t a dream. He had room service deliver a nice breakfast. He learned that she takes her coffee black, and that the previous night’s sex was not a fluke. But eventually she had to leave, and he had to get to the airport. She was still beautiful, even in yesterday’s clothes. She promised to call him when she got back to Los Angeles in a couple months.

Oscar Night by Jennifer Brock When we left off, our hero David Fine the novelist turned Hollywood screenwriter had just had a date in New York City with the beautiful fashion model Maritza Delgado, who he'd met through his friend clothing designer turned Hollywood costumer Claude Marsh. In this installment, David learns that unexpected hair loss does not always lead to tragedy.

Part 3

When he returned to California, David made a commitment to get himself in better shape for when he saw Maritza again. Remembering something she had said, he asked Claude what he knew about waxing, but Claude was in one of his moods. “Are you asking me because I’m your gay friend, and the gays are into grooming?”

“Not exactly. I’m asking because you’re my style guru.”

“I suppose that is an acceptable reason, Grasshopper. Now when dealing with unsightly body hair there are several things to consider. What areas were you thinking of waxing?”

“I think it was mostly my chest hairs that were bothering her.”

“Her? Aha! Better grooming wasn’t your idea originally, and you’re doing this at the behest of some female? And here I thought my good habits were just rubbing off on you.”

“Yeah, my date with Maritza went well, and I’m hoping I can see her again, but I thought I’d try to fix a few things about my appearance. It’s hard enough that she’s so much younger, but she’s also a professional gorgeous person. It’s very intimidating. But I figured it would be a good gesture to at least make some kind of effort at improvement.”

“That sounds wise. But don’t sell yourself short. You’re quite a catch: decent guy, best-selling novelist, academy-nominated screenwriter, general C-List celebrity. I’d make a play for you myself if you weren’t stuck on that whole vagina thing. But anyway, back to grooming. If you only take the hair off one area, you might look like one of those cheap gorilla costumes, where there’s a hard plastic chest surrounded by fake fur — it’s not a good look. So you want to do all the adjacent areas, too. Chest leads to shoulders and stomach, shoulders lead to arms and back, stomach leads to legs and crotch, back leads to butt.”

“That’s like everything! I don’t want to get rid of all my hair! And what do you mean ‘crotch?’ I’m definitely not waxing my pubes!”

“It really looks bad when only one zone is hairless. Trust me on this one. Ok, sometimes if you leave a little patch of pubic hair it’s ok, but you definitely want to get the hair off your genitals.”

“No way! The last time I trusted you I wore a pimp suit! I am definitely not letting someone pour hot wax on my balls.”

“It might not have to be hot wax. Of the nine standard methods of hair removal, only one of them involves hot wax. But really, didn’t you think Maritza’s hairless genitals looked sexy? So could yours.”

“What? Aren’t you supposed to be gay? Why were you looking at the naked crotch of the woman who maybe could be my girlfriend?”

“Way to commit there, Casanova. Anyway, she must have turned you stupid or something. You completely forgot how you met her. She’s worked shows for me, and I insist on using girls who are clear-cut. It prevents mishaps when showing lingerie or swimwear. Just in case you’re curious, I also insist they be free of tattoos and body piercings so as not to distract from the fashions. Oh and I seem to have guessed correctly that you got a peek at her smooth goodies, so way to go, Stud. But we’re straying. You’ve got your nine methods: shaving, chemical depilatories, tweezing, power tweezing epilators, hot wax, cold wax, sugaring, lasers, and electrolysis. With your coloring, I’d recommend laser hair removal. It doesn’t hurt as much as wax, and is more permanent, but more convenient than electrolysis. If you skip shaving for a few days and let your stubble grow they can even do your face, and it would be smooth and nice for when your girlfriend comes back.”

“I guess I’ll just have to trust you on this one.”

So three days later, Claude got David an appointment with an esthetician he knew, and took him to the office personally. He had signed David up for full treatment, and he was feeling a little guilty about having an ulterior motive for wanting David’s body completely hairless, but he rationalized it with the thought that it truly was a better look than partial smoothness would be.

The place seemed to be the epitome of the Beverly Hills lifestyle to David. The attendants all looked like bikini models or fashion dolls come to life. The receptionist gave him this lemon grass/green tea smoothie to drink while he was waiting. When a technician came and took him into a room, she turned around and had him strip off his clothes and lie on a table covered only in a strategically placed towel. Then she put special eyeshades on his face and put in a pair of earbuds that played relaxing music. In the back of his mind, he smelled smoke and felt a tingling, but he didn’t care.

He was almost asleep when the tech rolled him over to do the other side, and he didn’t even realize that his towel was gone. When it was all over, he sort of felt sunburned all over, but then an attendant came in and massaged some kind of anesthetic ointment all over him. This was a pretty swanky place — he hoped the bill wouldn’t be too steep. Then she switched to a different kind of lotion and rubbed it into his face. Then she handed him a little shopping bag with bottles if the stuff she just put on him, and told him he could get dressed as she left the room.

David realized that he had just been totally naked in a room with a girl massaging him all over and hadn’t felt embarrassed or excited or anything — that music must have put him in some kind of hypnotic state, or maybe it was drugs in his drink or the ointment. He went back to the waiting room and found Claude signing some papers at the desk. The receptionist made a follow-up appointment, and told him he was all set. Claude claimed that he was paying for this to make up for the “pimp suit” incident, and David’s mellow mood let him accept that. It was only after they left the building that David realized how long the procedure had taken; the sun had gone down while he was on the table.

Eventually his mood shifted and David was able to check himself out. His chest was bare, like he wanted, but so were his arms, his legs, his rear end from what he could see in his bathroom mirror, his armpits were clear even though he couldn’t remember changing his pose to allow the laser in there, and all that was left of his pubic hair was a little square patch just above his bald genitals, which did have the silver lining of appearing larger now without all the hair. His neck was smooth, and after a week his face still didn’t need a shave. He felt weird without any hair, and called Claude to complain. “You had them do everywhere, man! I look like a little kid or something. It was just supposed to be a little chest hair, but I let you talk me into letting it snowball into this. When I go back there after it all grows out again, I’m going to be more specific about what they do.”

Claude paused for a moment. Would it be better to tell him or not? After all is said and done, he did still consider himself a friend to David. “It’s not all going to grow out again. They’re not legally allowed to call laser hair removal permanent, but it comes really close. Your follow-up appointment is just to catch a few stragglers. The best it would do if you stopped now is that you might grow back a few mangy-looking patches here and there, but not fully or evenly. I thought you knew.”

“Even the hair on my face isn’t going to grow back? Ever?”

“I’ve never seen you with a beard. Have you ever grown one? I’ve never seen any old pictures of you with one. Sorry, but Evelyn mentioned it as an option when I was making your appointment, and I just thought ‘Hey, why not? No more shaving; no more whisker burn when you kiss your girl; what’s not to love?’ I really thought I was doing you a favor. I’m sorry.” Claude was an excellent liar. He couldn’t tell David his real reasons; not yet. But he really didn’t think David would ever want a beard.

At this point, the only real option David had was to accept it and learn to live with a smother body. He just hoped it didn’t turn Maritza off. He though about calling her, but remembered that she’d said she’d be very busy for a while. He put his mind off it by moving on to the next step in his plan — getting into shape. He saw his doctor to get tested for all the things that could possibly earn him her rejection, and while he was there he asked about what he should do to improve his tone. The doctor recommended that he start with something small — walk a mile a day, switch to a high fiber/low fat diet, and add some kind of vigorous physical activity at least twice a week. With his body type, he’d be better off focusing on losing fat than on trying to add muscle with weight training. He emphasized that David shouldn’t do anything drastic like a crash diet or going overboard on the exercise.

Two months of salads, jogging, and swimming laps in the pool at his complex helped him lose twelve pounds and he was feeling better about himself. He’d mostly gotten used to being hairless, except when he’d get creepy looks from this old neighbor guy he’d sometimes run into at the pool. He’d taken to swimming at night to avoid him. The downside is that he didn’t get enough sun to develop much of a tan, but then she’d never said he was too pale.

***

When Maritza got back in town, David told her he really wasn’t up for meeting more of her friends, so she invited herself over to his place for him to cook dinner for just the two of them. He accepted her offer, and figured it was some kind of bachelor test of hers to see how self-sufficient he was, but he wasn’t worried. He wasn’t one of those single guys who consist mainly on take-out food. He’d lived on his own for quite a while, and most of that was back home in Ohio in a little town without a lot of restaurants. She asked what kind of wine to bring, which was probably also another test, and he said to go with a dry white that wouldn’t be too overpowering, but he wouldn’t tell her specifically what he’d be cooking. He did make sure she didn’t have any food allergies.

She showed up at his townhouse on time. Unlike David, who was in his standard date uniform of an oxford shirt, a pair of khakis and his one good pair of shoes, she was dressed casually, which actually seemed to make it more intimate. She wore a pair of well-faded jeans that, while fitting well to her nicely rounded shape, weren’t so tight they gave that “painted on” look, with a tooled red leather belt with a buckle that resembled an antique cameo brooch. A pair of matching red leather boots with four-inch heels covered her feet. Her top was a deep green silky camisole tank, with thin spaghetti straps and just a hint of lace at the edges, the kind of thing that might have been originally sold as underwear.

Her loosely tousled hair didn’t seem to be held in place by any product, flowing free in waves around her face and down the middle of her back. Her make-up was either subtle or very minimal. It only seemed like she was wearing some dark red lipstick and just a hint of eyeliner. Her jewelry was also subdued — around her neck was a twisted gold chain and she had plain gold circular hoops in her ears. Even though it seemed she was “dressed down,” she was still exquisitely beautiful. Over her right shoulder was the strap of an enormous leather bag that looked to be some kind of military surplus satchel, and in her hand she carried a wine bottle. In her left hand, she carried a bouquet of daisies.

Taking advantage of her full hands, David put his arms around her and gave her a deep, long kiss. Coming up for air, he greeted her. “Hi. I missed you. Let me help you with some of that,” and took the bottle and the flowers. “I’d take your bag, but it looks monstrous! That’s the largest purse I’ve ever seen!”

“It’s not a purse, you big silly! It’s an overnight bag, with some things for me to wear tomorrow. You look good. Have you lost weight?” she teased as she followed him into the house.

“Thanks. I have lost some. But it’s mostly hair. You’re looking fantastic yourself!” He motioned toward the living room. “You can put your bag in there. I’ll take these to the dining room and meet you.”

She disobediently dropped her bag in the foyer and took advantage of his hands being full this time. She threw her arms around him and bent him slightly backward for a toe-curling soul kiss. She broke the kiss but didn’t let go. “I missed you, too. But I hope you were kidding about cutting your hair. I liked it long,” she pouted.

“No, I didn’t cut it; it’s just pulled back so it wouldn’t get in the way while I was cooking,” and he tried to twist his head to show her the five-inch ponytail gathered at the nape of his neck. “The hair I lost was in … other places.”

Her eyes grew wide. “Oh, really? Where? Show me!” She moved her hands to start unbuttoning his shirt, but he managed to wiggle away in the nick of time.

He slipped to the dining area, where he placed the wine bottle on the sideboard, took out a corkscrew and opened it to let it breathe, and then went into the kitchen, where he set the flowers down on the counter, and turned around to see that she’d been following him. “Would you give me a hand? I’ve got a vase for these in the cabinet over the refrigerator, and you could probably reach it easier.”

“Not until you show me where you lost your hairs.” She stood next to him and he felt short. In her heels, she was nearly a half a foot taller than him. Barefoot she was probably about five-foot-ten, which would still be taller than his five-eight, but with her boots on, he was a dwarf. He probably could have reached the top shelf without fetching something to stand on, but he’d be groping around blindly for things she’d be able to find clearly. So he caved to her demand.

He unbuttoned the top three buttons of his shirt. “Well, you suggested I look into waxing my chest, and when I asked our mutual friend Claude for advice he took me to this laser place and told them to do everything. So I’ve got no hair here,” and he tugged down the collar of his undershirt.

She reached out and slipped her hand inside his shirt. “Ooh - that’s much better than before. Very sexy!”

“But I’ve also got none here,” and he rolled up his sleeve and moved her hand to his hairless arm, “and I’ve got none here either,” and he leaned down and pulled up his pant cuff and took her hand down to his smooth calf. And then, standing up, he brought her hand to his cheek. “And they even did it here. No more stubble - ever.”

She was a little surprised, but the idea intrigued her. She brought her other hand up to the other side of his face and kissed him, deeply and thoroughly. “I’m tempted to just skip dinner and go explore you,” she said in a husky whisper as they came up for air, “but something in here smells delicious!” Winking suggestively she added, “Besides you.”

Remembering how this started, David showed her the cabinet, and she pulled down his vase. It was a fluted cut glass vase that wasn’t what she would have expected in a bachelor’s kitchen. When she turned to hand it to him, she saw he was cutting the tips of the stems off the daisies. “Fresh cuts absorb the water better,” he said when she looked at him confusedly. He was glad to have shown that he knows his way around flowers, probably passing another test. “My publisher sent me flowers the first time I made the New York Times Bestseller List. They came in this vase.” It was a little dusty, so he wiped it down with a damp paper towel before filling it with water from the tap and loosely arranging the flowers. He considering giving the vase to Maritza to put on the table, but he wasn’t sure she would place in what he knew was just the right spot for a centerpiece. He brought the flowers into the dining area and set them on the table in the perfect location. “I’ve got to make the gravy, but then it will all be ready. So, if you need to freshen up or anything, there’s a powder room off the hall that you used before, or there’s a full bath upstairs if you need something more.”

She took her bag from the entryway and disappeared up the stairs. David turned his attention toward getting the meal ready to serve. After a few minutes, she came bouncing back down the stairs. The table had been elegantly set with dishes of steamed fresh string beans in a light butter sauce, honey-orange glazed ripple-cut carrot slices, twice-baked mashed potatoes with a scalloped edge that David had piped out with a pastry bag, a basket with steaming rolls, a platter with a stuffed rolled pork roast that he’d cut in even slices, and a boat of gravy that he’d made from the roast drippings. He’d just finished pouring the wine and was lighting candles that were in glass candlesticks that coordinated with the vase, when she entered.

He held her chair for her, and she slid in. “Thank you,” she smiled at him, “Your table looks lovely, but are more people going to be eating with us tonight? There’s so much here!”

“No, it’s just us. I cooked a lot because I use my grandmother’s old recipes and she always made enough for six. I usually just freeze the leftovers separated out into like TV dinners, and also this pork roast makes an incredible sandwich. I suppose I could just do some kitchen math on the recipes so they don’t make so much, but that just wouldn’t feel the same. My cousin Barbara dropped me off her Christmas card list when I didn’t send her Nana’s recipe scrapbook. She thought she was entitled to it since she’s the only granddaughter, but Barbara wasn’t the one who was with her at the end; I was. So I sent her a photocopy, and she considered it an insult. But I don’t mean to bring you down, sorry. Dig in!”

“You didn’t bring me down — I think it’s sweet that you want to honor your grandmother like that. My mother never had the patience to teach me to cook. I can only make three things that she showed me when I was very small, but I don’t make those very well.” She started loading her plate. Since David had seen Maritza devour a healthy amount of Thai noodles on their last date, he wasn’t worried that “normal” food would be a problem for her. She wasn’t one of those models who’d consider a filling meal to be a celery stalk, a lima bean, a liter of water, and a cigarette. He figured she either was blessed with an amazing metabolism, or she managed to work off the calories with an exercise routine far more intense than his.

“Does this mean you’re not making dinner next time?” David gave her a mock look of shocked confusion.

“That’s good. I like how you’re so sure there will be a next time.” She leaned over and gave him a tasty kiss. “But no, I don’t cook. Ever since I left home I haven’t done much in the kitchen. When I first started modeling, the older girl they moved me in with only ate raw fruits and vegetables, so all I got to help with was cutting them up. I was stuck with her for a year, eating her boring food. Every time I got paid, I’d take some of it to a little restaurant and get the largest piece of meat I could afford, or a fish if I was feeling homesick. We didn’t get a lot of meat when I was a little girl. But my mother and my younger sister get meat now. I bought them a bigger house in the city, and put money into a bank account for them. My sister is going to go to school and will learn more than I ever did. Sometimes I think about taking classes in business or something like that, so that I can find a job when I get old and don’t look good anymore.”

“That’s nice of you to take care of your family. I like that. And I can’t imagine you ever not looking good.” Inside David was already imagining starting a family of his own with her, even though he knew it was way too early in their relationship for that. She gave him a look that felt as though she could tell what he was thinking. He had to change the subject quickly. “This is an excellent wine. You have great taste!”

“Thank you, but I didn’t pick it out myself. I just told the man in the wine store what I was looking for, and he found a bottle. This meat is very good! Claude told me you were a good cook, but I thought he was kidding me, so I decided to see for myself and make you serve me tonight. Now that was an excellent decision I made!” She stuffed a heaping spoonful of potatoes in her mouth and smiled at him.

“I’ve had Claude over for dinner many times. He loves my chicken and dumplings!”

“What is that? It sounds like it might be a cute nickname for your…things?” She wiggled a finger at his lap. “I must admit I’d like a taste of them myself. Although I didn’t realize you two were a couple; I thought you were just friends, but I was getting a feeling that you might be a little bi-curious, as they say, which isn’t a problem for me; I’ve played around on the other side myself. But I’m not sure it’s a good move, dating the boyfriend of a guy who’s sometimes my boss. Maybe I should go.” She started to get up from her chair.

David was crushed. “No, wait! It’s not like that. I’m not gay or anything like that. He is a friend and that’s all. Chicken and dumplings is a dish; it’s like a stew. Please don’t go.” He was on the verge of tears. The stress of trying to put together a perfect date had put him emotionally on edge.

Maritza could no longer contain her giggles, and exploded. “I’m sorry, Baby. I was just teasing you.” She went around behind his chair and held him. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m here. I’m not going. I know you’re not a gay.” She turned his face toward hers and kissed him deeply, adding “And I will show you how I know after dinner,” while she moved a hand to his leg and gave it a squeeze. “Do you forgive me?”

He wanted to tell her that it was very mean to tease him like that. He wanted to tell her that she might as well leave, because he wasn’t going to be in any mood for romance tonight. But from where her hand was he knew she could tell that at least a part of him wanted her to stay. And he knew that he was seriously falling for her, so he couldn’t let her go. “Yes, I forgive you. I should have realized you were kidding. I think I was just still a little nervous about making everything perfect for you, and I panicked.”

She kissed him again and returned to her seat. “Good. You did make a very lovely table, and a delicious meal! Some day you will make an excellent wife for a very lucky guy!” She smirked to make sure he knew she was kidding this time.

Inside, David was having a bit of a panic attack. He’d thought he was doing so well on all her little tests of how domestic he was, but the realization that he didn’t do any of it in a manner that was at all manly hit him like a truck. He couldn’t crumble again. He had to do something to shoot her opinion of him back to seeing him as a strong male, a worthy mate.

Little did he know she actually thought him worthy because he wasn’t strong and masculine, and that intrigued her. She was tired of macho guys. She smiled and enjoyed her meal, sensing that something was bothering David, but assuming it was mostly nerves. It was really cute to see him so fragile just from wanting to please her — it made her feel powerful.

When they’d finished the meal, David told her he could put on some coffee to go with the fresh strawberry shortcake he had all waiting to be assembled from homemade shortbread cookies, sliced strawberries that had been marinating in sweet liqueur syrup, and chilled heavy cream ready for whipping. Maritza thought for a moment then declined, “It sounds delicious, but your food was so good I ate so much I don’t have any room left. I have a better dessert for you. Give me ten minutes, then come upstairs.” She put her arms around him and kissed him, teasing his tongue before letting him go. She turned back on her way out to see him still standing there dumbfounded. He was fun to play with!

David used his ten minutes to put away the leftovers and pack the dishwasher. Remembering what she’d said about his hair, he went into the powder room and took the elastic off his ponytail and shook his head vigorously, using both of his hands to fluff out his hair. He repeated the mantra “I will not mess this up” in the mirror three times, then cautiously went up to his bedroom. Or at least, what had been his bedroom until very recently. He wasn’t exactly sure what was in that bag of hers, but she’d managed to transform his room in the brief time he’d left her alone. Four large scented candles were filling the room with a musky perfume. She’d remade his bed with deep red silk sheets, in the middle of which she struck an enticing pose. She’d changed into a tight black lace nightgown that left little to the imagination but framed it all perfectly. She slid out of bed when she saw him, and walked over slowly like a stalking panther sizing up her prey.

“Don’t you move. I want to undress you slowly.” She unbuttoned his shirt, and when she saw his new smooth chest she ran her hands all over it. “Ooh! You weren’t kidding when you said you had hair removed! This is so much sexier!” She kissed him all over, spending a considerable amount of time suckling at his nipples. “And your little titties are more fun without all that hair in the way. There’s not even any hair here,” she exclaimed as she tickled his bare armpits. He giggled and twitched and tried to twist out of the way. “I’ve got to see more!” She pushed him back so that he was seated on the bed, and pulled off his shoes and socks. “Your little toes look cute now without fur on them — but you really could use a pedicure. Have you ever had one?”

“Claude took me to a place once for a manicure, but it didn’t do anything for me.”

“Maybe I’ll do your toes for you one of these days. Are your feet ticklish, too?” She quickly found out they were, and David had to struggle to avoid reflexively kicking her in the head. She thought about sucking his toes, but saved that urge for later when she noticed how sweaty his socks were. She grabbed him by the belt and pulled him to his feet again. She gave him an impish wink and crouched in front of him to unbuckle his belt. Very slowly, she then unzipped and unbuttoned his fly, letting the anticipation drive him wild. She lowered his slacks to the floor and noticed the obvious tent in his boxers. Running her hands along his hairless legs, she helped him step out of his khakis.

“I can’t believe you went this far. I thought you were too straight for that kind of thing, but to me it is very sexy so I’m glad you did it.” She threw her arms around him and pressed her lips to his for a long, wet kiss. Her hands slid down his back and sneaked under his waistband to squeeze his baby-smooth cheeks. She let out an involuntary moan, “Oooh! Very sexy.” Pulling her hands out, she took a step back and pulled the waistband of his boxers around his erection and down to the floor. Her eyes widened at the sight of his further hairlessness and pushed him down onto the bed, leaning down to get a better look. “Ay, Dios mio!”

She had trouble deciding which part of her to touch him with. She ran her finger down his luscious smoothness, but that wasn’t enough. She kissed all around his shaft, slipping a little tongue into it here and there. Going lower, she took his smooth sac completely into her mouth and ran her tongue all over it. His “chicken and biscuits” were indeed as delicious as promised. She brought the head of his penis into her mouth and started seriously sucking on him. There was no foreskin in the way — was Fine a Jewish name?

As she bobbed her head up and down on him, she like that he was resisting the urge to thrust his hips and fuck her face. She hated when guys did that. It’s much easier to keep from gagging when you have control over how far into your mouth his thing is going. She felt a tap on her shoulder, and looked up to see that David’s face was completely clenched. He was even being enough of a gentleman to give her a chance to get out of the way.

But she stayed in place and gave him a slight nod, and then gently stroked his balls to let them know it was okay. He let go and she sucked down every drop of his thick, warm juices. When he finished spurting and softened, she licked him clean and then climbed up to lie next to him on the bed. Then a realization hit her. “I forgot to check. Did you get tested for everything?”

He turned toward her and gave her a kiss, something else most guys don’t like to do after getting oral. “I’m completely clean. I can show you the doctor’s report if you need it.” For an answer, she climbed on top of him and suckled at his nipples. She was really enjoying his all-over smoothness.

David wasn’t quite ready for more, so he gently rolled her over onto her back, and began kissing his way down her own intriguing smoothness. When he got his face down between her thighs, she really appreciated the lack of sandpaper on his cheeks. She appreciated even more the way his tongue was working her button with the uneven rhythm of a gentle summer rain. She squirmed in pleasure, and felt his hands sliding her nightgown further up her body. When it had cleared her breasts, he began to tease her left nipple with her right hand, while his left went down to assist his tongue. Two, no three fingers were lightly stroking her from the inside. She rode the wave of ecstasy to its summit and let out an involuntary moan, but he gave her barely enough time to catch her breath before the next wave was on its way.

At her second peak, she made him stop by pulling his head up for another kiss. She reveled in the taste of her own musk as her tongue playfully danced with his. Both of his hands had found nipples, and she guided them into pulling her nightgown off completely. She was more than ready for him, and a probing hand revealed that he was just as ready. She took him in hand and pulled him into her eager lips.

David tried a few slow gentle thrusts, but she responded more eagerly, pushing her hips up toward him with a passion and hunger that betrayed her need. He could tell by the look on her face that something wasn’t quite working for her. He remembered that the last time they were together it seemed to go much better when she was the one in control, so he stop thrusting and held her close, then rolled them both over so that he was on the bottom instead. Since he hadn’t fallen out, they started up again.

With the change in the angle, he was now hitting her in the right spots, and her frustrated expression soon changed to one of pleasure. They moved as one to a mutual climax and collapsed upon each other. It felt so right to cuddle with her that he didn’t even mind sleeping in the wet spot. He only hoped it felt as rewarding for her as it did for him.

Oscar Night by Jennifer Brock In our last episode, novelist/screenwriter David Fine discovered that his new girlfriend fashion model Maritza Delgado preferred him without body hair. In this update, she makes a few more changes to his personal style. (No actual TG yet, but you know it's coming.)

Part 4

Maritza started sleeping over frequently after that first night. Whenever she had a free night in her schedule, she’d give David a call and invite herself over. When she had a free day in her schedule, she’d take him shopping. She loved to go zipping down the freeway in her little red classic Fiat Spider. Maritza was such a scary driver that David would spend half of the trip with his eyes squeezed shut. She’d just laugh and squeeze his leg and drive even crazier. He tried to suppress his fear and just enjoy the company, but it didn’t always work.

The first thing she made him buy was all new bath products. She said that he needed to take better care of his longer hair and smoother skin than he had been. She threw out his soap and shampoo and took him to a specialty shop to get all natural organic bath oil and body soap and face soap and shampoo and conditioner and after-bath lotion and hand cream and moisturizer. The lessons she gave him in how to use all these items were very enjoyable for David, as many of them seemed to involve her rubbing his bare skin. His favorite was when she joined him in the shower to show him how to loofah. She also had him switch his daily shower to a bath twice a week, and sometimes even slipped into the tub with him.

Then next thing she decided he needed was a change in his wardrobe. She made him get rid of all his cotton boxers and switch to silk ones. He had to admit that his hairless parts did prefer the smoother material, but it took some getting used to. However, all his qualms flew out the window when he got a surprise delivered that contained a few pairs of silk underwear in a gift-wrapped package along with a dozen red roses. The card attached said, “For my sexy boyfriend.”

He called her right away. “Thank you for the present.”

“You’re welcome. I’m working all week and won’t get to see you, so I wanted you to have something that made you think about me.”

“You didn’t need to do that. I’m always thinking about you.”

“Aw, you’re so sweet!”

“Did you mean it when you called me your boyfriend?”

“Of course, you big silly. Your silky smooth ass belongs to me, and don’t you forget it!”

“I thought we had a commitment, but it was nice to see it in writing, like it’s official.”

“It’s official enough that I’m working on a special treat for you to celebrate six months after our first date.”

“Really?”

“Yes. That’s what girlfriends do. It’s also what boyfriends do, so you’d better come up with something wonderful.”

“Um, ok. We’re counting our first date as the time I took you to the Academy Awards, right? That was the night of our first kiss, so I think I’d count from there.”

“That is correct. I knew our brainwaves were on the same frequency, or whatever you call it. Look, I’ve got to go, but it was nice to hear from you. I’ll talk to you later, Boyfriend!”

“Bye, Girlfriend!” As David snapped his phone closed, he did a little dance with himself, excited at the idea of having an actual girlfriend. He would have to put a lot of work into preparing a six-month anniversary present for her.

***

Maritza wasn’t done making changes. She decided that changing his boxers to silk wasn’t enough, and made him donate all his cotton t-shirts to Goodwill. Then she had him go shopping for some new silk undershirts in a tank style. David thought that they really didn’t look good on him; they seemed to be designed to show off a physique that was much more muscular than his.

She saw that he was kind of uncomfortable with them, so she started him on also going without an undershirt some of the time. She liked this because it made it easier for her to slip a hand in to play with his nipples. That kept him excited enough that he didn’t mind so much being out of his comfort zone, especially when she decided that it was only fair to return the favor and go braless to allow him equally easy access.

David found that many of his shirts were a little too rough to wear with nothing underneath, so he took his own initiative and asked Claude to help him find some softer shirts. Some of the ones that he picked out looked kind of silly to David, but Claude reassured him that they were fashionable. He wasn’t sure whether he could believe him, but since they were shopping off the rack he figured somebody else must be willing to wear this stuff.

The first time she saw David in his new cerulean blue silk shirt, Maritza was impressed. As soon as he greeted her at the door, she had to touch him. She ran her hands over the smooth fabric and nearly purred at him. She pulled his face to hers for a deep, wet kiss and let her fingers wander to explore the soft contours of the small of his back. She’d trapped his arms at his sides, so all he could do to return her passion was to lean into her kiss and work his mouth against hers.

She pushed him up against the wall and his hands were free to embrace and caress her as she moved her own hands to his belt. Very quickly, she had his pants open and his erection poking through the fly in his silky shorts. She grabbed his hands and moved them down from where they’d been doing pleasant things to her nipples through her dress, pulling them around and under her skirt and up to her hips.

He found the waistband of her panties and slid them off her hips. As soon as they fell to the floor, she adjusted her position so that his hands were below her supple buttocks, supporting her weight while she folded back her eager lips and slid onto him. Her hands went up to his shoulders, and she wrapped her legs around his.

With all his effort going toward holding her up, she did all the work to grind her hips against his, working him into and out of her with a steady rhythm, building in speed as she went. Every so often, her lips would meet his for a kiss when her mouth wasn’t busy making little moans.

David really didn’t have the strength to hold her up for very long, so he was relieved when he felt her tense up right before she reached a screaming orgasm. It also allowed him to stop trying to hold back his own climax. Satisfied, she let him slide down the wall so he was sitting on the floor and she straddled his lap and kissed him some more.

All the anxiety he’d been feeling about his new look faded away. David really didn’t mind becoming a little more “metrosexual” in his appearance if it was going to get his girlfriend this turned on. When they’d both caught their breath, he realized how messy having fully dressed sex in the front hall was, and they had to go get cleaned up and changed before dinner.

The next day, bolstered by David’s buying shirts on his own, Maritza decided to take his cotton to silk conversion even further. She let him keep a few pairs of athletic socks for when he exercised, but got rid of the rest of his socks. Then she drove him out to the mall to get a dozen pairs of fancy silk dress socks, in colors to match his shirts. She explained that coordinating colors would improve his look a hundredfold. He wasn’t really sure people noticed sock colors, but fashion was her job so he had to take her word for it.

To go with his new socks, he needed new shoes. She ended up talking him into buying a pair of brown Italian loafers with pointed toes that hurt his feet. She promised that as he and the shoes got used to each other they wouldn’t pinch as much, but he did notice that she hadn’t said that they wouldn’t pinch at all. It got worse when she told him that it was wrong to wear the same shoes everyday, so he needed a couple more pairs for variety. Besides the pnchy loafers he walked out it, he also left the shoe store with a pair of black ankle boots with narrow heels that made him walk funny and a pair of braided leather sandals that he was only allowed to wear in extremely informal situations. Being fashionable was tough!

She still wasn’t done spending his money. His credit card statement was likely to be the biggest he’d ever had. Luckily his books were selling well.

She then led him to a different store, where she made him try on fifteen different pairs of pants before she found one she liked. At least they were linen and not silk like everything else she made him wear, but he thought they were a little too tight in the seat. She countered his argument by saying that they could be a lot tighter. By way of illustration, she showed him how tighty the pair she was wearing were in the seat, and he forgot what he was talking about.

As a way to reward him for buying all the clothes she suggested, Maritza wanted to get him a present. But it turned out not to be a present he would have chosen for himself. She led him to a jewelry store and had the girl pierce his ears with little gold earrings. She also bought him a pair of tiny hoops to go in his ears when the piercing studs could come out. He thought that guys were supposed to only get one ear done, but she assured him that that was the old style and modern guys preferred symmetry. The girl at the shop backed her up and named a bunch of male celebrities with two earrings, but David had no idea who they were.

It didn’t hurt too much, but he earned a bunch of sympathy kisses by playing up his discomfort. It only became a real issue when he went to bed and tried lying on his side. He had to keep his head squarely on the pillow, which wasn’t easy when his sexy bedmate wanted to play.

***

Maritza’s six-month anniversary present for David was a day at a spa. It was this large complex outside of the city made of buildings that looked like they might have once been a Spanish mission. She’d driven there with the top down and didn’t like it when he pulled his hair back in a ponytail, so it was a mess when they got there and she had to lend him a brush.

By the time he caught up, she had given their names to the receptionist. She attached a plastic bracelet like they use in hospitals to David and Maritza’s wrists, and explained that the row of colored dots on it represented the treatments they’d signed up for. She handed each of them a basket and a pale pink terrycloth robe, and indicated the curtained-off dressing rooms, where they were to put all their clothing and belongings in the basket and come out dressed in only the robe. She’d keep their things safe while they were relaxing.

It was kind of silly, but he went along. The robe was only long enough to reach his knees and it made him feel very vulnerable. The terra cotta floor was cold on his bare feet, and he had to suppress a shiver. When he came back out, he saw that Maritza made the little robe look incredibly hot! She kissed him goodbye and said she’d see him at lunch. He asked her what kind of treatments she’d signed him up for, but she only giggled and wouldn’t tell him.

A cute blonde wearing shorts and a t-shirt the color of his robe introduced herself as Faith and said that she would be his “facilitator” for the day and lead him through his schedule. She led him down a hallway and said that he’d start his day of cleansing the toxins from his body with a steam bath. She handed him a towel and showed him where he could hang his robe. He was to go sit in the steam room until she came back for him.

He wrapped his towel around his waist and went through the door. He was surprised to see that the steam bath wasn’t segregated; there were both men and women sitting in there on the benches. Not everyone was wearing a towel, and it was hard not to look. He tried leaning back and closing his eyes to relax, but then he started worrying that he wouldn’t see Faith when she came for him.

Every so often the door would open and an attendant would come in to fetch someone, but never for David. He was sure that he’d been in there way too long when a brassy redhead came in and sat near him, and tried to strike up a conversation. Like him she used a towel to cover her lap, which left her overinflated breasts free for anyone to see. He had to struggle to keep from watching them as she talked. She asked him if he was in The Business and he said he was a writer. She was of course a budding actress, and clearly hadn’t been in town long because she didn’t know that writers have no sway.

When Faith finally showed up, he gave his companion a polite goodbye but rushed out as fast as he could. He was guided to a booth where Faith closed the curtain and reached through to take his towel. There was a drain on the floor and he saw little shiny nozzles all around the ceiling and down the walls and realized it was a shower stall.

Suddenly, all those nozzles shot ice cold water at him. It didn’t last very long, but it was long enough for his testicles to disappear and his nipples to turn into iron spikes. Faith opened the curtain and dried him off with a giant towel. It felt so much better than being cold and wet that he didn’t have time to register that he was naked. When he was mostly dry she helped him back on with his robe and slipped his feet into a pair of plastic flip-flop sandals the same pink color as everything else.

His next treatment was to be a deep tissue massage, so she led him to a room where he was to untie his robe and lie face down on a table. This big guy came in wearing a similar uniform to Faith and said his name was Gá¼nter, and he would be giving David his massage. He took away David’s robe and draped a towel across his hips. The massage started out as very relaxing, as he gently oiled David along his back and legs. But then it got more intense and Gá¼nter used some serious pressure to work out the knots in his neck and shoulders.

It was relaxing and painful at the same time, an odd combination of sensations. He was being brutally poked, but when the masseur moved on to a different muscle the one that had been savaged felt much better than it had before the whole thing started. Gá¼nter had him roll over after a while so he could work on the front of his legs and shoulders. David was glad that it hurt, since it almost felt so good it might have been turning him on otherwise, and that was not a reaction he ever wanted to have to another man.

After the massage was over, he got to briefly put his robe back on before Faith took him to a different room where he had to lie on a table and take his robe off. Cassandra, the attendant in this room, said that he’d signed up for a deep cleansing and aromatherapy with lavender and rosemary for stress reduction, and asked if he’d ever had it done before. He said he hadn’t, and she reassured him that there was nothing to be afraid of. Naturally, being told that made him immediately worry about whatever was going to happen.

She started rubbing fragrant oils into his temples, making little circles with her thumbs, and it felt really nice. It was very soothing. In a soft voice she told him to just relax, and it was almost hypnotic. She changed position and went around to his left side and kept rubbing at his head with her left hand, but her right hand plunged something cold and greasy into his anus! She told him to try not to clench, that it would only make it take longer.

David heard a faint humming as she started a machine, and he felt a very strange sensation in his guts. He asked what was happening, and Cassandra said that they had to fill him up in order to flush the toxins out of his system, so he should let her know when he felt too bloated to continue. When he figured out what she was saying, he realized that Maritza must have signed him up for some kind of colonic. There was nothing he could do now but just go with the flow, so to speak.

Once the machine had filled him up, it reversed and started emptying him out. Cassandra offered to show him the hose so he could see all the filth that was coming out of him, but he declined. He didn’t even want to think about it. The machine seemed to be winding down, so he was glad it was ending, but then she switched the hose and started filling him back up again. It didn’t feel any more comfortable the second time.

She told him she wasn’t satisfied with the color of the liquid coming out of him on the second flush, so she did a third one, which seemed to pass her test. After she took the nozzle out of him, she cleaned him up with a warm, wet washcloth. She also rubbed some soothing lotion around and into his opening. At some point in the process the prostate massage must have gotten him off because she had to clean him up in front, too. She asked if he felt alert and detoxified, but he was feeling so exhausted that he just nodded. She then added, “I’m sure your boyfriend will appreciate you being all fresh and pink inside,” and David didn’t really have any energy to correct her before Faith came and wrapped him up in his robe and led him to his next appointment.

Fortunately, the next item on his schedule was lunch. Faith brought him out to a courtyard where Maritza was waiting for him at a little café table sipping some kind of juice. She told him that she’d had an invigorating seaweed wrap that morning and asked how he liked his cleansings.

He didn’t want to hurt her feelings so he chose not to complain about being made to sweat until he dehydrated and then given a hypothermia shower and then roughly manhandled by a giant only to then be raped by a firehose. He simply tried to smile and told her it wasn’t anything he’d ever have expected.

Maritza got to eat a chicken sandwich, but David’s “lunch” consisted of a large yogurt smoothie designed to replenish his intestinal flora. They also warned him not to eat a heavy dinner. He had to content himself by watching her chew.

Unlike the morning that took them in opposite directions, their afternoon schedules were the same. First up, they’d be getting facial treatments. They were shown into a large room where they got to sit in adjacent salon-style chairs. Amber the facial therapist did Maritza first, so David got to watch each step of the process before it was done to him.

It wasn’t that bad at all. First, she washed their faces with a gentle cleanser. Since he’d already had a steam bath and a shower, David thought that the only cleansing he really needed at this point was to remove the oils that Cassandra had rubbed into his face. The second step was to wrap their faces in warm, moist towels, which was perfect and heavenly and the most comfortable he had been all day.

Since he had a towel on his face, he didn’t get to watch the next step being done to Maritza, but it turned out to be a rough scrubbing that Amber said would remove any dead skin cells. She complimented David for his soft complexion and close shave, and he told her he’d been lasered. Maritza chimed in and said that he’d been lasered everywhere, and it was delightful. That seemed to throw Amber, as she’d been under a different impression about their relationship.

She then loosened up the skin with a brief facial massage, after which she spread a crazy looking mud mask over their faces, and let it set there a while. Once the mask came off, Amber finished up by rubbing a lotion all over their faces. He looked in the mirror and felt clean and shiny. Maritza looked beautiful, even without any makeup on.

Amber left and a new pair of girls came in, to work on each of them simultaneously. They started with a manicure, which David wasn’t so sure about although he did enjoy the way she massaged his hand before working on the nails. There was some rough poking at his cuticles, but for the most part it wasn’t that bad. After trimming and filing his nails, the girl (whose name he never got) buffed them to a very glossy sheen.

Maritza was getting her nails painted as well, but David didn’t think he wanted that. She showed him that she was getting what’s called a “French manicure,” where the nails were painted in pink and white for a look that was natural, but cleaner. He didn’t think that would look too extreme, so he let them do that to his nails, too. A heavenly foot massage and a pedicure followed. There was no point in trying to argue it, so he let the girl do the French thing to his toenails as well.

It was time to check out, so they returned to the receptionist, who scanned their bracelets and gave them their baskets. David went to a dressing room and put his clothes back on. With the glowing complexion and shiny nails added to his silk shirt and tight pants and little pinchy shoes, he realized that his look was probably extremely gay. But he knew he wasn’t, and his smoking hot girlfriend knew he wasn’t, and that was really all that mattered.

Oscar Night by Jennifer Brock Last time, fashion model Maritza Delgado gave her boyfriend a trip to a day spa as a present to commemorate their first six moths together. This time it's novelist/screenwriter David Fine's turn to give her a gift. This installment does contain some actual cross-dressing, although probably not as much as some of you were hoping for. (David's best friend, clothing designer Claude Marsh does not appear in this section, but he's probably still scheming somewhere.)

Part 5

After David had experienced his first facial, Maritza convinced him to add a cleanser and moisturizer to his nightly regimen in order to keep the fresh look. It was a bit of a hassle, but he had to admit the results were worth it. It dealt with all the grime of living in the city, and gave his skin a healthy glow.

The following weekend it was time for David to give Maritza her anniversary present. He wouldn’t give her any more information about where they were going other than that she should wear comfortable clothes and flat shoes.

He’d programmed their mystery destination into his GPS and wouldn’t tell her. And the further out of town he drove, the more frustrated she became over not knowing, particularly because he wasn’t driving fast enough for her. She was almost ready to make him stop the car so she could get out, when she saw that they were headed for the speedway.

Maritza was livid. “Your big surprise for me is to go see a NASCAR race? We’re going to drink lame American beer with a bunch of hicks and watch cars drive in a circle? Do you know nothing about me? Why would I want to just sit around and watch something? That’s not me at all! And this race must not be popular, because this parking lot is practically empty. Who’s racing today, anyway? It must not be anyone I’ve heard of, like that Jeff guy or that other guy who’s the son of the guy who blew up.”

David tried to calm her down. “That’s not a nice way to refer to someone.”

“Is it my fault I don’t know his name? Anyway, it’s a really bad surprise. Can we just go home?” She turned away from him and pouted.

“Hey, cheer up. I think you’ll know at least one of the drivers out there today.” He tried to turn her face toward him and she slipped out of his hand.

“I don’t believe you. Anyone I’d know would have drawn a crowd.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“The parking lot is empty because there’s no race today.” She tried to interrupt, but he cut her off. “But what is open today is a driving class, where actual racing professionals teach amateurs how to drive race cars, and I enrolled you in the class. Because you don’t watch things, you do them. And you love to drive fast, so here’s a place where you can go as fast as you dare.”

She looked at him through slitted eyes. “Really?”

“Really. I know your present for me was something we could do together, but this is something for you to do and me to watch. Now as soon as you apologize to me, we can go check you in.”

“Apologize? What for?” She put on an innocent face and batted her eyelashes.

“You are so difficult sometimes!” He leaned over and stole a kiss. She melted into it and grabbed his shoulder.

She broke the kiss and gave him a playful nip on the chin. “Making up is half the fun in fighting.”

He tousled her hair. “I swear. If I wasn’t so in love with you, I don’t know how I could put up with your moods.”

She grabbed him for another quick kiss. “When do I have to check in? Is there time for a quick trip to the back seat? (It is the one good thing about your car.)”

He checked his watch. “I don’t think so. You can thank me for my present later.”

“Oh, this wasn’t for my present. This was to mark the first time you said you loved me.” She kissed him again.

“I did? Oh, I didn’t realize I hadn’t said it before. I knew how I felt about you almost from the start. Couldn’t you tell?”

“Sure, but sometimes a girl likes to hear it.” She gave him another kiss and then stepped out of the car. He sighed and looked at her, his Venezuelan goddess, standing there looking no less glamorous in her faded jeans and tank top than she does on the catwalk. A little voice inside him cried out that boys like to hear it, too, but he shut it down. He took a deep breath, adjusted his sunglasses, and opened his door.

They walked across the lot to a glass door in the back of the building, with a sign that let them know it was the right place. A cute twentyish brunette wearing a NASCAR t-shirt was sitting behind a simple desk. She looked up and pulled a laminated card on a lanyard off of a stack and held it out to Maritza. “Show this pass to the security guard and you can get into the stands to watch your man drive. They’ll be in class for a couple hours before they hit the track if there’s somewhere you want to go in the mean time. Guests are welcome to join us for lunch.” She turned her attention to David, and picked up a clipboard. “Your name, please?”

David took the pass from his girlfriend and spoke up. “You’ve got it backwards. I’m the one here to watch. She’s here to drive. Her name is Maritza Delgado, although it’s possible they put the reservation in my name since it went on my credit card. I’m David Fine.”

The confused girl looked at her list. “I wasn’t expecting any girl drivers. We do get them occasionally. Ah! I see the problem. You must have made the reservation by phone. I had you down as ‘Mauricio,’ you know like the Formula 1 driver Mauricio Gugelmin? Oh well. Go through that door and Jim will tell you what to do.” She pointed.

Maritza thanked David again for her present and kissed him goodbye. He put the guest pass around his neck and returned to the parking lot, where he got his computer bag out of the trunk. He walked over to the front gate and showed his pass to the security guard, who wrinkled his nose at David. “I didn’t know your kind liked racing. The rest of the wives and girlfriends usually like to watch from the luxury seats in Row Four. I’m sure they’d love for you to join them,” he said with a sneer.

David didn’t feel like correcting the guy. He just sighed and shook his head as he walked away. He decided to go sit with the other spectators anyway, figuring he’d correct any misconceptions they had based on his appearance if it mattered. He found the spot and the only one there was a bottle blonde overflowing from her low-rise jeans sitting there playing with a baby that was sitting in a car seat. David gave her a little wave when she looked up, but he took a seat at some distance.

They were out of the sun, but the air was dry and kind of polluted, so he took a bottle of moisturizer out of his bag and did his face, his hands, the back of his neck, and his arms where they stuck out of his sleeves. He’d just taken his laptop out and was searching for a wi-fi connection when his phone rang. Maritza had texted him, “Need u now. Meet in lobby. Urgent.”

He zipped up his bag and ran out of the stadium. He hoped it wasn’t something too terrible. Maybe the class was a bunch of rednecks who didn’t want a woman there. Maybe they’d become violent, or worse. If anything had happened to her because of a “present” he’d given her, he didn’t think he could live with himself anymore. He didn’t even have time to hear the epithets the guard threw at him on his way out.

He was out of breath when he made his way back to where he had left her. She looked fine, so he was relieved. She was wearing a real racing jumpsuit and looked like a professional driver. He couldn’t see anything wrong and wondered what the urgency was. She pulled him into the ladies’ room and started getting undressed.

As soon as he caught his breath David told her, “You had me worried that something was wrong with your urgent message. Not that I’m complaining, but if it was just a booty call you could have warned a guy.”

Maritza laughed. “No, no. I didn’t call you here to have sex. Now take your pants off.”

He was confused and just looked at her.

“I need your underpants. These suits may be fireproof, but it’s really itchy to sit in with bare skin. I don’t think a lot of NASCAR guys wear thongs. I want to trade underwear with you.”

David just shrugged and did as he was told. He slipped off his shoes and dropped his pants. Watching his sexy lover wiggle out of her jumpsuit made his little friend stand at attention. “Are you sure you didn’t call me in here for sex?”

She leaned down and lowered his silk boxers then planted a kiss on his disappointed member. “Sorry. There’s no time.” She handed him her pink lacy thong, still warm from where it had cozied up to her most intimate of places. “But you may need to take care of that yourself before you can fit in these.”

He looked down at the tiny panties and considered “going commando,” but he thought his jeans might be a little rough on his hairless genitals, so he tried slipping on the thong. And just like she predicted, it really didn’t fit over his erection. He looked over at her and saw that his underpants made her look much sexier than hers looked on him. She zipped up her jumpsuit and put her sneakers back on, then thanked him and kissed him goodbye.

David was stuck in a ladies’ room with a raging hard-on and miniature underpants. It probably wouldn’t be a good idea for him to hang around in there for too long. Lacking a better idea, he took Maritza’s advice and went into a stall. He pulled his panties to his knees and sat down on the commode, then took matters into his own hand.

It was lucky that he’d just moisturized. It made his hand soft and slick. That combined with the extremely recent memory of his girlfriend’s naked posterior made it very easy for him to get himself off. He stroked softly at first, but then built up in intensity. When he felt ready to explode he aimed at the bowl. He got a few drops on his fingers, but he licked them clean before grabbing some toilet paper to wipe himself. He was able to fit in the tiny thong, although somewhat uncomfortably. It reminded him of all the wedgies he’d gotten in middle school.

He was walking kind of funny when he returned to the security checkpoint, and the guard had a few more choice words for him. He tried to ignore them as he sashayed on back to where he’d been sitting before.

The young mother eventually introduced herself as Kirsty and her baby as Billy Junior. Billy Senior was down in the class. She looked askance at David and asked who he was there with, and he told her his girlfriend loved to drive fast so he got her the racing class as an anniversary present. Kirsty seemed to relax when she realized he wasn’t some “weird homo pervert” or whatever she’d assumed about him.

More spectators showed up as the morning drew on. Bonnie, an older heavyset woman, was a housewife from Wisconsin who’d planned their trip to California around the racing class she’d bought for her husband’s retirement. Laurie was a businesswoman overdressed for the occasion. She was bored and clearly didn’t want to be there, but it was important to her son that she be there to watch. Heather was a brassy redhead in a tight t-shirt and extra-small shorts, who was there to watch her boyfriend Bucky learn to race. She explained that he had a dream of becoming a professional racer, so she’d saved up her tips for months to get him there.

Andrea was a nervous mouse of a middle-aged woman who looked like a schoolteacher or a librarian. David smiled to himself when she pulled out a paperback copy of Condensation to read while she was waiting. He tried making conversation and asked her if she thought it was a good book, and she said she wasn’t sure if it was the kind of book a person like him would enjoy. He tried again and asked if she knew the movie would be coming out in a couple of months, and she looked him over and decided that he must be in the business, so she went off on a rant about how no one in LA reads anymore. David just decided to back off and leave her alone.

He couldn’t find a wireless internet connection, so he just settled back and worked on some writing. His publisher was holding back on releasing Deposition, his latest book, to see how Condensation the movie did first, so they’d know how much to brag about it being from the same author on the cover. They were already entertaining studio bids on the new one even before it was published, so David was getting an early start on adapting the screenplay.

He got through two-thirds of his computer’s battery when a voice came on the loudspeaker to get their attention. The students were going to do their first laps on the track. Everyone stood up and cheered when their respective drivers went by. They weren’t going all that fast, but it was still thrilling to watch. The announcer identified his sweetie as “Mauricio Delgado,” to match what the receptionist called her, but it got him some odd looks from the others. David had to explain how it was a joke based on a clerical error, but it didn’t look like they believed him. He said that if they were going to be around at lunchtime they’d see that she was definitely a girl. He was tempted to show them a picture of her on his phone, but he didn’t want to come across as pushy.

The students each did another couple of slow laps, then they went back to class to talk about what they’d done wrong. David and the women talked about how each other’s drivers had done on the track. Heather was a little worried that Bucky hadn’t seemed to have done as well on the turns as some of the others. Kirsty told her not to fret about it; this was Billy Senior’s fourth time at the track and he still wasn’t cornering properly. She told David that he should be proud of “Maria” as she seemed to be handling the turns like a natural.

Lunch came from a silver catering truck that pulled out onto the track where some picnic tables were set up so they could look at the cars while they ate. It was a variety of unhealthy foods served buffet style from oblong tinfoil dishes, fried chicken, French fries, coleslaw, and biscuits. At least they offered bottled water as well as soft drinks.

David made a big point of giving Maritza a passionate embrace and a deep kiss when she came out, as a way to assert his heterosexuality, even if it did make his panties particularly uncomfortable. They sat down and introduced everyone around. Billy Senior didn’t look as redneck as David had imagined; he seemed like an ordinary guy in his thirties, with a decent vocabulary and no hint of an accent. He said he was in real estate, and asked David what he did.

David said he was a writer, and Maritza stepped in and outed him, talking about his books and his movies and giving his full name. He caught Andrea looking embarrassed at the realization, and tried to shrug it off with an apologetic glance.

Bonnie’s husband Ted was a big man with a full beard that would probably look more at home in a lumber camp than a racetrack, but he had the wide-eyed smile of a little kid at being allowed to play with the racecars. Andrea’s boyfriend Chuck was a surprise. He was a slick charmer who was “between jobs, but some investments were about to pay off.”

Laurie took out a box lunch of something green and sprouty to share with her son Nathaniel. The race school had been a present for his twenty-second birthday. When Maritza opened her jumpsuit and ate in her sweat-soaked tank top that left very little to the imagination, Nathaniel kept staring at her when he thought no one was watching. Then Kirsty started feeding Billy Junior and Nathaniel couldn’t decide which breasts to peek at.

Two buddies Pete and Rob had come to the race school together and had left their wives at home. They were in computers or something. David didn’t pay too much attention; he was distracted by the sensual way Maritza was licking her fingers.

Bucky, who was exactly the stereotype David had expected complete down to the tobacco juice he kept spitting, sent Heather out to get a six-pack. The head of the school wouldn’t allow any drinking and threw them both out. They all got in a shouting match in the parking lot, and the teacher came back alone and apologized to the others for having to hear it.

David got another deep kiss when the group broke up after lunch, and the drivers went back to class, and their guests went back to sit in the stands.

When the cars came back out this time, they went at full racing speed for ten laps of the track. This was much scarier to watch. Even though there were experts in the passenger seats, the amateurs were driving. The cars went by so fast, it was a blur. Everybody cheered for every driver this time.

Then there was an intermission, which most of them needed. Nervous energy can really make you have to go to the bathroom. David opted to sit in a stall so that in case some other guy walked in he wouldn’t see his panties. But he had a problem when he was done because seeing the pretty lacy wisp of cloth between his silky smooth legs was turning him on, and he had to wank off again to get it to fit in his panties. He tried adjusting things for a more comfortable fit, but it just wasn’t working.

After intermission, the drivers came back for another ten laps, this time correcting all the mistakes they’d made the first time out. The spectators all stood up and went down to the railing for a closer look. While Andrea was watching Chuck zip by, David snuck her book out of her purse and autographed it, writing “To Andrea: It’s good that someone in LA still reads — David Fine.”

After Maritza did her laps, the announcer came on the loudspeaker and said that she had the best time for the day. David was very proud of his sweetie. None of the racers who came after her beat her time. She ended up winning a little plastic trophy. They made her pose for a picture of it being handed to her, and she had David play the part of the racetrack beauty queen and hand it to her in the photo.

Since she’d beaten all the boys on the racetrack, they agreed to let her have the locker room alone so she could hit the showers first. She dragged David in with her. Driving like that had really gotten her turned on. She peeled off her jumpsuit, her sweat- drenched tank top, and David’s soaking wet boxers. He was too slow for her, so she helped him get his clothes off, and laid him down on the plank bench in the locker room. He was ready for her, so she easily mounted him and held him against the bench while she flexed her knees to bounce up and down on his shaft.

Her thumbs began to tease his nipples as her hips rocked around in a circular motion. He tried to buck his hips back toward her, but he didn’t have a wide range of motion available. She arched her back and began to tremble, and he realized how close to orgasm the engine must have brought her, if she was getting off this quickly. It was the first time she came first without him having to hold back his own climax.

She collapsed upon him and kissed him, working her lips all over his face, from one ear to the other and then from his forehead to his chin. He answered her passion with his own. She dismounted him and took him by the hand into the shower area, which was an open space with a row of nozzles like you always see in prison movies.

She chastised David for failing to bring their quality soap and shampoo with him; they had to make do with the inferior industrial-grade stuff that was provided so they went quickly. He offered to wash her back for her and she took him up on it. When they were all clean, she couldn’t put her sweaty clothes back on, so she put her jeans on without any panties, and wore a souvenir t-shirt instead of her original tank top. She even put her sneakers back on without any socks.

David’s boxers were too wet, so he had to put the thong back on. She said he looked sexy in it and declared that he should wear panties more often. He wasn’t sure about that, and got his pants back on as quickly as he could. At least the embarrassment kept him from getting another uncomfortable erection.

Maritza thanked the instructors for a fun day, and David placed an order for a DVD of the experience for her, that they’d be editing together from footage taken by cameras both inside and outside the car. They went back to his car, and she thanked her boyfriend for such a perfect gift. He agreed to let her drive home, if she promised to go no more than five miles above the speed limit. She negotiated him up to ten.

Oscar Night by Jennifer Brock Last time, novelist/screenwriter David Fine took his girlfriend model Maritza Delgado to a racetrack to learn to drive fast, and she loved it. In this installment, there are new developments in their relationship, and David's Friend fashion designer Claude Marsh reappears when it's time for the new movie's opening night.

Part 6

Maritza was busy for most of the month of September, and collected a few thousand frequent flier miles. If David hadn’t changed his calling plan to put her in his circle, his phone bill would have been monstrous. Her international roaming charges were obscene, but he chipped in a little. It was worth it to be able to stay in touch.

In the beginning of the month, she flew down to Acapulco for six days to do some catalog work, posing in swimwear in various natural locations. She described some of the things she’d worn to David over the phone, and picturing her in them only made him miss her more. She promised to try to get him on the mailing list so he could see for himself, since they didn’t let her keep anything. David gave her a ride home from the airport, but she just wanted to crash after her long flight and sleep for a day or two. He brought her to her apartment and tucked her into bed. He asked if she wanted company, but she was already out.

He didn’t know whether she was the kind of girlfriend who’d expect her boyfriend to stay over anyway, or if she’d consider that a serious invasion of her personal space. He chose to compromise, and left her a note that read, “Hi, Sweetheart. Call me when you wake up. I wish I could have just crawled in next to you, but I’ve got to go home. I’m behind schedule on my latest draft. Love, David.” He didn’t feel like too much of a weasel, since it was pretty much true, but he did feel ashamed that he didn’t know Maritza well enough.

When she called him several hours afterwards, she sounded disappointed that he didn’t stay and cuddle, so he kept that in mind for the next time. He cooked dinner for her the following night, and all was forgiven. She slept over, and they stayed in bed until noon, enjoying one another’s company in every way possible. David didn’t get a lot of work done with her hanging around, but he really didn’t care. Three days later she was on another plane.

She spent four days in New York shooting a perfume ad, and from there went directly to Milan to work a private show for some big shot David had never heard of. Sometimes her job sounded exotic and exciting, but other times it just seemed like too much discomfort and sacrifice.

After Milan, she only had three days in L.A. before she had to be in Miami to pose in the background of a music video, so David wanted to make the most of their time together. He met her at the airport when she got back from Miami, and took her back to his townhouse. He had a welcoming feast prepared for her, but she had other plans. She told him to let the food wait and led him up the stairs, shedding her clothes as she went.

He wasn’t stripping nearly fast enough for her, and she ended up tearing his shirt to get it off. She threw his naked body onto the bed and insistently mounted him, trying to release the urges that had built up inside her since they’d last been together. He took her energy and redirected it, turning her urgent sex into slow, sensual lovemaking, keeping all her passion but also matching it with tenderness. Ninety minutes later, they were both well-satisfied but sweaty and famished. He threw a light dinner together quickly while she grabbed a shower.

They shared a delicious meal of grilled chicken strips over a tossed green salad, but were dressed more for breakfast: he in his silk undershirt and boxers, she in his bathrobe. The moment just felt so comfortable. Maritza leaned over and gave him a kiss, savoring the vinaigrette on his lips. “You are an excellent chef, my love.”

He kissed her back. “Thank you. Your dinner was going to be veal medallions in a wine sauce with new potatoes, with an assortment of steamed vegetables, but we can have that tomorrow or something.” Then something in her words sank in. “Wait a minute. Back up. What did you call me?”

“I called you my love.” She kissed him again, knowing full well why he was surprised. “Because I love you. And I realize that I never said it before, but I was very scared. I don’t like to be so vulnerable.”

“You don’t need to be afraid. I will never hurt you. And in case I haven’t said it enough, I love you too.”

She kissed him again, and let her robe fall open. His hands moved to gently caress her, but then she pulled his shirt off, and her kisses drifted down to suckle at his nipples for a while before their path downward. Her tongue penetrated his navel while her eager fingers freed him from his shorts. She straddled his chair and lowered herself onto him, giving him a faceful of breasts to enjoy. His tongue found its way around some spots that drove her wild, and she reacted by wriggling faster on his.

They eventually finished in the dining room and went back upstairs for a shared shower, before collapsing together in bed, their naked limbs intertwining. She ended up spending all three days at his place, and only went back to her apartment to pack before going to the airport for her next trip. He really enjoyed having her around.

Upon her return from Miami, she had a little more of a break before her next business trip. They took a three-day weekend up in the wine country and they didn’t have any real clashes staying in the same room, so David decided to ask Maritza to move in with him.

Her first reaction was to try to laugh off the idea. But the more she thought about it, the more it felt like the right thing to do. On her recent trips, she had felt something she hadn’t in a very long time — homesickness. For all the new and interesting people and things she was seeing, she really wanted to get back home. And for the first time, “home” meant where she left her boyfriend, not where she left her mother. She accepted.

Claude’s business had a white cargo van they borrowed to move her things over. Her modeling agency rented the place for her furnished, so it was mostly her clothes that needed to be moved, plus a few personal things. The master bedroom at David’s had two closets, so he moved his things into the smaller one, and let her have the big one. Even so, her wardrobe still spilled over into the closet in the second bedroom, which he had been using as his writing room. She tried to put the things she wore less often in there, but for some reason she still occasionally went looking through that closet when getting dressed. Having his sexy, nude girlfriend rummaging through the closet across from his desk kept him from getting much writing done, but it was a sacrifice he was willing to make.

She had a few jobs in town, and it felt very good to come home to a delicious supper on the table, and a loving partner. David only had to adjust his menu a bit so she wouldn’t gain any extra weight. She had a regular exercise routine that did most of the work to keep her toned, and joined him for his nightly swims. He regretted that he wasn’t able to show her off by daylight, but she wanted to avoid any unnecessary sun.

***

Unfortunately, Maritza was in Tokyo when Condensation had its Hollywood premiere. David would have liked to show up with a pretty girl on his arm, but he felt like there would be many more events it the future that he could bring her to. It scared him that he was so nonchalant about just expecting to have a future with her, but in his heart of hearts he just knew she was the one he would spend the rest of his life with.

He called Nadine, his publicist, and asked her if she’d go with him. She was kind of surprised since he’d never asked her before, but he explained that previously when he was a single guy, it might have been seen as inappropriate to take her on what might look like a date. But this time around he had a girlfriend, so it would be just like all those married guys who bring assistants and agents to things when their wives can’t make it. Nadine had met him through his publisher, so more of her clients were from the world of literature and not showbiz. She jumped at the chance to go to a Hollywood Event. He tried to tell her that this movie wasn’t a big blockbuster or anything, but she got excited anyway.

Claude put a new look together for him for the premiere. He wanted to tone down David’s newfound “metrosexuality,” so that it wouldn’t tip his hand prematurely. But he also couldn’t let David know his real reason for butching up his style. He said that he wanted to make it up to him for pushing the fashion envelope at the Oscars by getting him to better blend into the crowd at his big premier. Since David knew full well that the spotlight wasn’t going to be on the screenwriter as much as on the cast and the director, it made a lot of sense.

Claude started by putting him back in cotton underwear and socks. David felt weirdly uncomfortable in things he’d worn most of his life. Then he gave him a plain white pleated shirt and a black wool tuxedo that didn’t even have a silk lining. Claude wanted him to have no fluidity or grace to his movement, so he put him in coarse clothes. Similarly, the shoes he picked to go with the outfit were shiny black loafers in a larger width than David usually wore. Claude thought the whole thing made him look kind of like a teenager going to the prom, which suited the plan perfectly. There was no way anyone would suspect anything out of the ordinary.

He had David remove his earrings, claiming that they might catch photographers’ flashes and twinkle, attracting unwanted attention. The only other issue was his hair. He needed to hide those flowing tresses. Claude pulled it back into a ponytail and secured it with a transparent elastic band, and then took a handful of gel and slicked it back to mask what was holding it in place. All he had to do was wear the jacket over the ponytail, and the length would be hidden. Claude was almost ready to let him go, when he noticed David’s French manicure, and had to take the time to clean the polish from his fingernails. He tried to say that David’s nails were in need of a fresh treatment, but he told Claude that it had only been a couple days since he had been to the manicurist. But he’d already started with the remover, so it was too late.

David looked in the mirror and wondered why his friend seemed to be turning down the “cool” in his look, but it would definitely keep reporters from bugging him. Maritza called to wish him luck and he told her that Claude was making him look kind of like a dork, but she said that was a good thing; she didn’t want any other girls hitting on her man. He said he’d have his publicist acting as his date, but she knew he was taken. He had a girlfriend who he loved madly and missed incredibly. She chuckled and told him she loved him too and would see him soon, but then she had to go.

Nadine showed up looking very cute. She was a petite blonde who was a little heavier than a starlet, but still had a decent figure. Her hair was in a fancy updo with a few escaping ringlets. She wore little rhinestone-studded cat’s eye glasses, and wore a sunflower yellow satin babydoll dress with little spaghetti straps and a hemline that flounced out. David worried that it would defeat the plan to blend into the crowd, but Claude was glad that it would take even more attention off of David. She was excited enough that he really just stopped worrying.

In the limo on the way to the theater, she told him that her sources had told her that industry buzz was already pretty good about this film. He teased her that he’d never heard about “her sources” before, and she got kind of giggly and said that it wasn’t a big secret. Mainly, his publisher had been talking with the producers on some combined advertising ventures, and they were expecting the book to need the movie’s fans more than the movie would need the book’s fans. David was really uncomfortable thinking about having fans in general, and now he had two different kinds.

He got quickly knocked off the pedestal he was building for himself when the car rolled up at the cinema and a security guy knocked on the window asking who it was. When the driver said it was the writer, the crowd of photographers made a collective noise of disappointment, and the bouncer told the driver he was too early and he had to circle around and come back in ten minutes. It was weird being famous, but not famous enough. Heck, Claude was a fashion name and had done wardrobe for the film, but he didn’t even get invited.

He tried talking about business with Nadine while they were killing time, but she didn’t want to. He had some questions about whether he’d have to do a book tour in conjunction with the movie, but she didn’t have her Blackberry with her with all her notes. The little bag that matched her yellow dress didn’t have room for it.

Watching the movie wasn’t easy for him. He had to see other people interpreting his characters, and there were several times when the actors or director had made decisions that caused his characters to do things they never would have done. And as a premiere this was even tougher because he hadn’t seen the completed film before. He’d been on set a few times, when scenes were causing problems and needed to be rewritten, but that had only given him a glimpse at how his babies were being raped. Okay, maybe that was too strong a metaphor, but it felt damned close to that.

At least the audience seemed to like it. They applauded at the end, and the director stood up and took a bow, and waved to the cast to stand also. David wasn’t sure if he wanted him to stand as well, so he stayed hidden. He didn’t even have to worry about whether he was invited to the after party, because Nadine felt that the buzz would be very good, so she wanted to get back to work as soon as possible.

The movie opened nationwide and was a huge hit, not Summer Action Movie huge, but Early Fall Poignant Drama huge. The critics loved it even more than the fans, and they all were calling it the one to beat at the Oscars that year. Buzz was very good.

Unfortunately, buzz was a little too good. His publisher was doing well with the paperback editions of Condensation with a picture from the movie on the cover, but they’d decided to hold back on printing Deposition until the negotiations for the film rights had finished, so they could make sure to include language allowing for more cross-promotion.

The only good news was that they weren’t pushing for him to go on a book tour. He really didn’t like those. Traveling around the country sitting at a card table in a shopping mall or giant bookstore for hours, living out of hotel rooms, having to be pleasant around all those people, even the ones who were sweaty or smelly or gross, none of that appealed to him in the slightest. He preferred to relate to his readers from a distance.

***

For their first Thanksgiving together, they had Claude and his latest boyfriend Antoine over to share the wonderful meal David had made. Maritza met them at the door. Despite looking like a big burly macho black guy, Antoine was delicately holding a beautiful bouquet of flowers, which he handed to his hostess. She welcomed them in and slipped past David in the kitchen for his vase. He made her stop so he could cut the stems before sticking them in water, and she set the vase in the middle of the table. He handed her a tray of hors d’oeuvres and a pitcher of sangria and shooed her out of his kitchen.

Maritza chatted with the boys while her housekeeper finished the feast. They all agreed that David’s little puff pastries stuffed with cheese and mushroom paste were scrumptious, but she told her guests they wouldn’t want to fill up. Countless delicious aromas had been coming out of the kitchen all morning. Claude agreed that David was the best nonprofessional chef he knew, and he was looking forward to his version of the ultimate American dinner.

Antoine shared some tasty celebrity gossip. He worked for a security company that occasionally hired him out as a bodyguard for C-list stars who didn’t have a regular entourage, and so he often found himself on the scene of breaking scandals in the business.

His latest tidbit concerned a certain pop princess who was trying to sell herself as a legitimate actress. Apparently, she’d thrown a tantrum on the set of her latest film when she couldn’t memorize her lines and still deliver them believably, so the director fired her despite the expense of needing to reshoot all her scenes with a new actress. She was just that bad.

Antoine’s impression of Little Miss Thing breaking down in front of the director and begging him to give her a second chance had Maritza and Claude breaking out in giggles. When “she” offered to do for the director all the things he’d seen in her amateur sex tape, Maritza almost wet herself from laughing.

When David came out to fetch everyone for dinner, they were all having a great time. He liked the feeling of having his home filled with family for the holiday. Maritza and Claude weren’t his blood, but they most definitely were his family, unlike those cousins that had put him back on the mailing list for their holiday newsletters only after he made the bestseller list.

Maritza gasped at the sight of the dining room table. He had cooked far too much food for four people, and the spread was incredible! There were four kinds of vegetables: steamed asparagus spears under hollandaise sauce, honey glazed baby carrots, sliced beets in a sweet and sour Harvard sauce, and buttered sugar snap peas. He’d made both mashed white potatoes and sweet potatoes, and rolls fresh from the oven in case that wasn’t enough carbs. His cranberry sauce was made from scratch; she’d seen him making it the night before. And in the center of the table was the main attraction: a perfectly roasted bird that he’d been basting every half hour all morning. It had been filled with chestnut stuffing using fresh chestnuts and his grandmother’s recipe, and he’d rendered the drippings and giblets into gravy that begged to be tasted.

They all overindulged and collapsed in the living room afterward, falling asleep to a DVD of Miracle on 34th St. David cuddled up on the couch next to his Sweetheart, and wished he could just live in that moment forever. He woke up to discover that she’d abandoned him to go clean up the meal, with some help from their guests. Since everyone seemed to have their second wind, he brought out the pies: a pumpkin, an apple, and a pecan; he had trouble deciding which kind to make, so he’d baked three.

Claude and Antoine stayed long after dessert, and he made sure to send them home with some of the leftovers. All in all, it was a holiday memory to be cherished. Maritza felt guilty about all the calories, so she led him down to the pool for a swim by moonlight in the brisk air. He almost refused, but seeing her in her tiny bikini in the cool night distracted his brain too much to complain. And when she kissed him in the pool, he couldn’t feel the temperature anymore. It was definitely his best Thanksgiving ever.

***

Maritza flew home to Venezuela to spend Christmas with her mother and sister. She wasn’t ready to introduce David to her family yet, and he still needed to work on his Spanish before he could get around down there without needing her to translate everything for him. She was going away for a whole two weeks, and she didn’t want him to forget her. So she came up with a plan.

Remembering how she’d borrowed his boxers at the racetrack, she raided his underwear drawer, packing all his silk undies in her suitcase. She even waited until he was in the shower to do it, so he had nothing to wear of his own. He came out to see her standing there in nothing but a pair of his boxers.

She smiled and traced a heart on his chest with her finger. “I want to think about you every day when I’m gone, so I’m going to wear these instead of mine. It will also prove to you that I won’t be trying to look sexy for any other men while we’re apart.”

“You still look very sexy, no matter what you wear. But that is a very sweet gesture.”

She crouched down and slid herself along his body. She licked and kissed each of his nipples before going down any further. She found his smooth skin so sexy that she wanted to kiss every inch of him. “I want you to think about me every day, too.”

“Don’t worry about that. I’m sure you’ll be in my mind, as you are always in my heart.” He gave a little shudder as she moved down and took his fullness into her mouth.

She very adeptly ran her tongue and lips around his most sensitive spots, and quickly brought him near to the point of completion. She looked up into his eyes and gave a slight nod when her fingers sensed the tension, so he would know it was okay to let go. He exploded into her mouth and she swallowed every drop. As he shrank down to normal size, she cleaned him off with her tongue, enjoying the feel of his hairlessness. When finished, she stood back up. “So I think it’s only fair that you do the same.”

He’d lost track of the conversation, and thought she was talking about what she had just done for him, so he started sinking to his knees. She corrected him, “No, Silly! Not that.” She pulled him up and led him across the bedroom to her bureau. She opened a drawer and pulled out a lacy pair of pink bikini panties. “While I’m wearing yours, I want you to wear mine. Here. Try these on. They have a little more coverage than the last pair that you borrowed, so they should fit better.” Before he could even process a thought, she’d bent down and coaxed his feet to step into her frilly undies and had pulled them up into place.

They had an actual back to them and did fit more comfortably than the thong he’d worn at the racetrack, but they rode a lot lower on his hips than he was used to. His beloved was smiling at him, so he tried to smile back. “If it’s that important to you, I guess I could try it. If you’ve taken all of mine, I’m not sure what other option I have.

She tried to dress him in linen pants, but he thought the pink was visible underneath. He wore his blue jeans instead. She made him wear one of his tighter silk t-shirts as a compromise. When she kissed him goodbye at the airport, she said he should feel free to borrow any of her clothes if he wanted to, and gave him a little wink. He said he would miss her terribly, but they’d have their own little Christmas celebration when she got back.

Oscar Night by Jennifer Brock In this installment, we see how novelist/screenwriter David Fine spends his Christmas alone as his girlfriend, fashion model Maritza Delgado has gone home to Venezuela for the holiday. David explores his feminine side a little more, helped in part by the fact that Maritza took all his underpants with her, forcing him to spend two weeks in her panties.

Part 7

The day after Maritza left, the major undertaking that would be her Christmas present began: he was going to get her closet redesigned. David rummaged through her drawers to try to find the pair of panties that offered the most coverage, but all of them seemed much too small. He wondered why he’d never noticed her affinity for tiny panties before. The pair he settled for on the first day were canary yellow, in some kind of cotton/spandex blend. They covered about half of his rear end, and had a nearly decent-sized triangle of fabric in front, but there was nothing to the sides but a double row of thin elastic string. He didn’t think the yellow would show through his linen pants. He completed his outfit with a powder blue silk blend polo shirt and sandals, since he’d be home all day.

It was still morning when Terrence came over. He was a contractor that Claude had recommended, who’d done amazing work for some of his friends. David had seen pictures of the closet systems Terrence had installed, and they looked like the sort of thing he was interested in, so he made an appointment. Terrence looked like the right kind of guy. He was a tall man, with broad, muscular shoulders and a strong jaw. His skin was a shade of tan that might have been from sun, or might have been from some mixing in his ancestry. His wavy black hair was kept in place by a fair amount of product. He wore a tight green T-shirt, faded jeans, and a well-worn pair of workboots. He carried a beaten leather messenger bag.

He shook David’s hand and introduced himself. David took him upstairs to the bedroom, and showed him Maritza’s closet. Terrence took out a clipboard and a measuring tape and began making notes and measurements, seeing how much space she currently was using. David showed him around to his office to see the rest of her wardrobe, and he made some more notes. Then he took some more measurements in the room, and in the office. He also opened David’s closet and made some notes. Then he looked around the bedroom, asking which drawers were whose, and making some more measurements.

He asked David whether any his bedroom set was a family heirloom, or if he had some kind of special attachment to it. David wasn’t really in love with his furniture, but he didn’t know why it mattered. Terrence said that he’d show David some ideas for replacing some of the pieces with new units that would coordinate with what he’d do in the closet. He pulled out a laptop computer and David left him alone for a while. He went down into the kitchen, made a pot of coffee and watched the news.

Terrence came down with a couple of ideas to show David. He had a 3D model of the bedroom on his computer. He started with a simple option, where all he did was rip out all the white wire shelving and hanging rods from the closet and replace it with his modular closet system components. He’d chosen a nice stained cherry that coordinated well with David’s bed. It did look nicer, and he told David she could probably get about 40% more of her things into the closet. He then punched up a revision of David’s closet that looked fairly decent. He explained that it would be weird when he went to resell the townhouse if the two bedroom closets were completely different, so he really ought to get them both done at the same time.

Finally, he showed how his system could work in the office closet. He had two thirds of it filled with a double row of hanging bars for Maritza’s surplus, and the other third had bookshelves at the top and file drawers on the bottom, so he could actually use his office for office stuff. He kind of liked that idea, but he wasn’t really sure how he managed to get talked into paying for three closet makeovers when he only wanted one originally.

Terrence had even more tricks up his sleeves. He said that just changing out the closet interior and installing his system would probably be enough of an improvement for some people, but what every woman really wants in a closet is one she can walk into. He opened up a new model of David’s second floor, where he’d made some serious revisions.

David’s closet was pretty much the same as in the first version, but Terrence had punched out the wall in the back of Maritza’s closet, and gone about three feet into the office. He showed what her new closet would look like, and it had two tiers of hanging bars across part of it for blouses and skirts and pants, and another part with taller bars for dresses and coats, and a double of row of special shoe drawers all along the bottom, and some pull-out baskets for flat storage of sweaters and things that don’t get hung up, and an integrated lingerie cabinet with drawers for all her delicates. The capper was that he’d added a full-length mirror to the back of the closet door, with full-spectrum lighting. David had to agree that it did look like the dream closet every woman had ever told him about.

But Terrence was just starting to show David his plan. Over in the office, he’d made a new closet in the space next to where Maritza’s closet jutted into the room, and it was all bookshelves and file drawers. Unlike the cherry in the bedroom, he’d used pieces with a more masculine oak finish. He showed how his modular units could be easily swapped out, so that if they needed to turn it back into a bedroom when the time came to sell, it would be easy to do. He recommended leaving the doors off until then.

On the other side of the room, he’d taken the frame off of the existing closet, making an alcove about two feet by six feet. When the room needed to be a bedroom, it might be a good spot for a twin bed, but for now it was a good location for David’s desk. And Terrence went one further. He showed how he could do a nice built-in desk that would match the closet elements. He pointed out the different features, about how it would have special compartments for his printer and his computer, and a wall mounted shelving unit with indirect lights underneath.

David was nodding at the idea of the built-in, so Terrence flipped back to the bedroom and showed a new layout of the room itself. Since there were now drawer elements in the closet, the bedroom didn’t need two large chests of drawers and a dresser as well. Since one chest had been doing double duty as a TV stand, Terrence’s new vision for the room had a large built-in multimedia cabinet opposite the bed. It matched perfectly the units in the closets, and had extra storage space as well as room for all his audio/video equipment and an assortment of CDs and DVDs.

The only old piece of furniture he’d kept in the room was the bed. On each side he’d added a freestanding nightstand from his collection that coordinated perfectly with the built-ins. Opposite the closets, he’d made another built-in, only this had drawers and cabinets on the sides and a place for Maritza to sit and do her makeup in the middle. And it had a mirror mounted on the wall above it with more concealed full-spectrum lighting.

It looked kind of weird to David, almost like a piece that belonged in a kitchen. But Terrence explained that built-in bedroom cabinetry was not something new. It was all over the place in Europe and some more modern parts of China and Japan. People used to have freestanding closets in their bedrooms until they met the convenience of building it in; it was only a matter of time before everyone did the same with their chests. He showed David some photographs of other rooms he’d done, and he had to admit they looked nice.

He asked if it would feel too much like a hotel, all cold and impersonal. Terrence popped open a video of a woman showing off her new bedroom and bragging about how much she loved it. She described how luxurious it felt, knowing that her pieces were made especially for her room. She also talked about how much easier it is to clean when you don’t have to go under the furniture, and nothing dropped on the floor ever gets lost.

David wasn’t sure. He said he had to think about it. Terrence printed out pictures of both the simple closet installation and the extensive remodeling, with a price quote on each one. The fancier version was thousands more than David had been expecting to pay, so he said he’d have to get back to Terrence later that day. The shook hands and he left.

David wasn’t sure if he was feeling pressure to do the big change because Terrence was such a good salesman, or because he just really liked the prettier rooms. He took his paperwork and went to see Claude for advice. Over a couple of light beers, Claude helped him get at what was really bugging him about the project. He was still afraid that Maritza was going to find someone else and leave him, and he’d be stuck living in the space he’d spent a small fortune to fix up for her.

Claude put his hand on David’s shoulder. “Wow. You’ve really got a lot on your mind. It sounds like you’re worrying about two different things at once.”

“What do you mean?”

“First, you’re feeling insecure about your relationship. And second, you think this is a lot of money to spend on fixing up a closet. Let’s look at that second part first, because it’s easier. You’re a famous author with two bestsellers to your name, and an Oscar-nominated screenwriter. You’re not living the life of luxury like most people in your shoes would. You can afford a few thousand for some home improvements. And it’s not like you’d be throwing your money away; it’s an investment. I’m sure you’ll make your money back when the time comes to sell your place.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“And I’m not hearing you say that you don’t like these designs. So I think you should go for it.”

“But what about the other thing?”

“Okay, you’re worried that your girlfriend is going to leave you and you’ll be stuck living with a bedroom you had built for her. If that happens and the place reminds you so much of her that you’re moody and depressed all the time, you can just move.”

“You’re not going to tell me that I’m worrying pointlessly? Do you know something? Is she secretly seeing someone else?” David’s voice showed that he was close to panicking.

“Hey! Back up a couple steps and take a breath. I’m a firm believer in the philosophy that all things are temporary. You should know me better than to think I’d back you up on your dream of finding happily ever after — I’m more the “find a happy now and let ever after take care of itself” kind of guy. I don’t know anything specifically about your girl losing interest in you. And from what I do know about her personality type from having worked with her, she’s very straightforward; if something wasn’t working for her, she’d tell you. If I’m remembering correctly what you told me, she was the first one to bring up the idea of a monogamous relationship with you. So I’d guess you’re pretty safe with her for now.”

“She’s only been gone a day, and I miss her already.”

“Aww, that’s sweet. You’re just lucky I’m in love myself or I’d vomit. But she’s gone on trips for business before, so what makes this one harder to take?”

“A couple things. I think mostly it’s the season. Christmas was always a big deal back home, and it’s bad enough that the weather around here doesn’t feel the slightest bit wintry, but it just wasn’t the same without anyone to share it with. Um, present company excepted, of course. It’s feeling kind of like that first lonely Christmas after Nana passed.”

“Well, it’s totally not the same. Maritza isn’t gone forever. You know she’ll be coming back. When’s she scheduled to return?”

“The twenty-eighth.”

“Good. Then I expect to see you both at my New Year’s Eve party.”

“I think we can do that. Thanks. I think it helps having something to look forward to. You’ve convinced me that I should call Terrence and go ahead with the project. It will give me something to take my mind off missing her.” He leaned in and continued in a conspiratorial whisper, “You know, she did something to make sure I’d be constantly reminded of her.”

Claude played along and whispered back, “Oh? What was that?”

“She took all my underwear with her. I’m stuck wearing her panties for the week.”

Claude’s eyes widened. This was working better than if he had planned it. “How’s that working out for you?”

“They’re not very comfortable. I couldn’t find a pair with enough room in the front.”

“There’s an easy solution to that. Push your genitals back between your legs and your panties will fit better. Just make sure you’ve got a pair with decent width in the crotch.”

“That sounds like the voice of experience.”

“I was young and trying to discover what it meant for me to be gay and into fashion. I tried that scene for a while, and it really wasn’t my cup of tea.” Claude was afraid this topic of conversation might scare David off, so he changed the subject. “Anyway, I think you should call Terrence back right away, to make sure he can schedule the job to have it all done before she gets back. If you left him with the impression you’d be turning him down, he might be out trying to drum up a new project.”

David pulled out his cell and called Terrence, telling him he wanted to go ahead with the big remodel. He said that ideally he’d like it finished before the twenty-eighth, and Terrence took a moment to check his inventory and then said that it shouldn’t be a problem getting the materials in that time frame. The tricky part would be trying to get permits and schedule building inspections on short notice on a holiday week, but he thought he could call in a few favors to get it done.

David said he could pay extra to have it done quickly, but Terrence insisted that he would only do work if it was done with all the right codes and permits. And particularly because there would be some electrical work involved, it would mess with David’s insurance if they tried to cut corners. Claude had an idea and took the phone to suggest that Terrence could try looking for an inspector who liked to read, and maybe David could sign a first edition for them or something. He said he’d see what he could do.

***

Tucking things back did make his panties fit better, although he wouldn’t exactly call it “comfortable.” He caught his reflection in the mirror as he was dressing and it was weird. With smooth legs coming out of lacy panties with no unsightly bulges, and long hair and shiny nails and little gold earrings, he almost looked like an ugly woman with no figure. He hadn’t realized until that moment how all the little things he’d done to change his style weren’t just things that gay men and “metrosexuals” did; they were things that women did.

He wasn’t exactly sure if he wanted to be that feminine, and his dilemma was made worse when Maritza called him the day after she arrived. She was laughing, and told a story about how she’d shown her mother a picture of him on her phone, and she’d yelled at her. Her mother thought Maritza was showing her a woman, and didn’t want her daughter having a girlfriend that wouldn’t be able to give her grandchildren. Maritza had to show her a copy of one of his books with his picture on the back cover to prove that he was a man. She thought that was hilarious, but it made him feel a little uneasy.

Then it just got strange when Maritza started talking all sexily about putting her hand down into his boxers, describing in detail his pair with the red and gray stripes, and he finally understood that she was talking about the ones she was actually wearing. She’d been describing how she was touching herself. She then wanted him to tell her which of her panties he was wearing, and it got very awkward. Part of it was that he didn’t really have the right vocabulary to describe them.

He said that he’d picked them because they were blue, but after he put them on he found out that they were like lace everywhere except the cotton crotch panel, and they were very clingy. The waist was very low, and didn’t quite come all the way up to the top of his rear. She told him that he must be wearing her sexy stretch lace boyleg panties, and pointed out that she had a stretch lace camisole top that matched them. She thought it would probably fit him, since their chest measurements were around the same size. She teased him that it would be so sexy if he got it out and put it on.

He tried to humor her and just pretend to put it on, so he let her talk him through finding it in her lingerie drawer. It was really not much more than a tank top made of the same stretchy lace material as the panties. At that point it seemed easier to just put it on than to try to lie to her. Her guess was right — it did fit. But then she wanted him to do things to himself that took him even further from his comfort zone.

She had him describe how his nipples looked through the lace, and then pinch them until they stiffened. Then she wanted him to slip one hand inside his top and stroke his “breast,” while his other hand reached back to tease his “booty cleavage.” He had to admit that it was turning him on a little, but when she talked about slipping a finger inside herself and wanted him to do the same, he drew the line. He brought his hand around to the front of his panties instead and stroked himself until she got herself off and ended the call.

It was a strange experience, but he went to sleep still wearing her lingerie anyway. He breathed in the perfume still in her pillow, and slept on her side of the bed. He imagined that it was her silky leg he was touching, and her smooth arms that were holding him, and he drifted off into a dreamland of fantasy.

***

A couple days later, a large van showed up at David’s townhouse, and four people got out and started unloading equipment. Terrence introduced the rest of his crew. Jorge and Rafael were both well-muscled Latino men in sleeveless t-shirts. They looked similar enough that they were probably brothers, but David didn’t want to say anything in case they weren’t related and he was just having a “they all look alike” moment. Karen was a tall black woman who radiated glamour even in her work clothes. Terrence had them carry in three large rolling garment racks like you’d see in the costume department of a film studio.

He asked David if he had any objection to other people touching his clothes; sometimes his clients didn’t realize that having people working in your closet meant having people handling your things. David chuckled and said he didn’t mind. The first step in the process was clearing everything out of the old closets. Jorge dropped off a stack of collapsible plastic crates in the office, and Terrence asked David to break down his computer, and to pack up anything confidential from his desk area; his crew could handle the rest.

It was amazing. In the space of a few hours, they’d cleaned out two rooms. His living room was now filled with racks of hanging clothes and a couple neat stacks of crates, all labeled with Post-Its. His bedroom now contained only a bed, which was shoved over against the wall. The only thing he was keeping from his writing room was the chair, and it had been carried down to the dining room. His old desk, file cabinet, and chests of drawers were loaded into a truck and hauled off to be donated to the needy.

The next day, David had to go down to the living room in his bathrobe to look for something to wear. He felt very subconscious about needing to find the box in the stack labeled “Lingerie: bras and panties” before he could get dressed. He had to move three boxes to get into it, so he was in quite a hurry and just went with the first pair of panties he could find. They were satiny with a leopard print and almost a thong in the back. He put the boxes back and pulled a shirt and a pair of pants off the rack of things from his closet.

Once the workers arrived, the morning was dedicated to demolition. David had to move his car so that a temporary dumpster could be parked in his space. The first things that went were the doors from all three closets, and then they ripped out all the interior wire shelving. They’d gutted his closets completely in the time it took him to make a pot of coffee and then bring a tray of cups up to them. It was kind of cool seeing how big the space in the closets looked with nothing in them.

After their coffee break, the demolition got more serious. They covered his bed with a drop cloth, and then started ripping out the drywall inside the closets. It was dusty work and he wasn’t wearing a breathing mask so they shooed him out. They threw most of the pieces into the dumpster from the bedroom window, which kept the mess from spreading through the house.

After tearing out the drywall, they used a cool little cordless power saw and cut out the studs from the back of Maritza’s closet, and from where the front of the closet had been in the office. It was really pretty cool. When they were all done smashing stuff, they used a heavy-duty vacuum and cleaned up after themselves.

Karen found David and talked to him about some details he hadn’t even thought about. She needed to order the materials they’d be needing after the new walls were done. She had a few paint chips to show him, to pick the color of the walls in his office, and to pick the interior color for Maritza’s closet. She had little samples of the wood finishes that would be used in each room. She suggested a white for the closet that she said had a bit of pink in it, although he couldn’t see it. It just looked white next to the cherry. I seemed to work okay, so he agreed to it.

For the office, she had a couple of color options. One was a pale celery green that seemed to work well with the golden tones of the oak, but seemed a little too cool to him. The other was a parchment yellow that he felt would be a better environment to work in, so he picked that one.

Next she had carpet samples to show him. First, since he’d gone for the yellow walls, she had a tan sample that she wanted to use in the office. It had a low, tight pile that would make it easier for his desk chair to roll around. He thought that was a good decision. And remarked that he was impressed with how thorough they were

She then showed him a piece that had been cut from the existing carpet from Maritza’s closet, and the closest she could come to it with a similar Berber. She said they could use that in the floor of the new closet, or they could just cut a piece from the old carpet from the office and use that, which would be a perfect match to the rug in the bedroom but it wouldn’t look as new.

He thought about it and decided that it was more important for the closet to seem continuous with the room, so he voted for cutting it from the old one. Karen went up to tell the team to save a chunk before they threw the old carpet out the window, and she was just in time.

The last step they did that day was the framing for the new walls. They took measurements down to their truck where they had a miter saw and a stack of two-by-fours. Since the new closet walls weren’t very big they had them framed out in no time.

Terrence came back alone the next day, to run the wires for the new electrical connections. But then they had to wait a couple days to get inspectors to come in and check things before the new drywall could go up.

***

While he had a couple days to kill, David took a huge step. He took both his mother’s and his grandmother’s diamond rings to a jeweler to get them cleaned. He wasn’t definitely going to give on to Maritza, but he wanted to have them ready, just in case. He knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, but he wasn’t sure he was ready to ask her. She might not be ready to answer.

The jeweler wanted to know if he wanted to get either of the rings sized, to make sure they’d fit his intended. He wasn’t sure, so he called Claude and dragged him down there for an opinion.

David felt that his grandmother’s ring had a stronger sentimental connection for him, but Claude thought its marquise cut diamond wouldn’t fit Maritza’s hand as well as the more classic round cut on his mother’s.

But he also thought that it would be a mistake. “This isn’t the right time for you to ask her. Hang onto these rings a little longer.”

“But I know she’s the one now. I don’t need any more time to decide.”

“You need to be asking for the right reason. I think you’re still insecure. You wouldn’t be asking because you’re ready to build a future with her together; you’d be asking because you’re afraid of being alone. I think you just need to give it a little more time, so that by the time you’re ready to ask you’d be sure what her answer will be.”

“I know you don’t believe in marriage. Are you just trying to work on convincing me to share your opinion?”

“I am a strong believer in romance, and I know what you dream of having the wife and kids thing, and I want you to be happy. I just don’t think you’re ready. She could very well be the one, and if she is she’ll still be there in a couple months. You’re already doing the big closet thing for Christmas; maybe you can save the diamond for Valentine’s Day.”

“Okay. Maybe that’s a better plan. So which one should I get sized, and should I do it now or wait?”

“I’ll tell you what. Let me hang onto them for you. I’ll get some similar pieces the next time I use her in a show, and I’ll try to see which style she likes better. And then I’ll take that one to get sized for you, and when you’re ready to ask her I can give them back to you and let you know which one to use.”

“Wow. You’d use your show to do something like that for me?”

“That’s what friends are for, David. I’m sure if I ever needed a big favor you’d be there for me, but this time it’s my turn to be there for you.” Claude expected that he would be asking David for something huge in the not too distant future, but he really did believe that he was acting in his friend’s best interests.

***

The building inspector signed off on the framing, and then a day later the electrical inspector also approved the work that had been done. As soon as he left, Terrence’s boys were back to work, putting up the new drywall. It wasn’t a very big wall, so it didn’t take long at all. They taped up and spackled the seams and left it to dry overnight.

The next day, they came to paint. First, the bare walls got a coat of primer, and then the colors went up. David felt like he should be trying to help, but the team worked together so efficiently, it seemed like it would be like trying to cut in at a ballet performance. While the paint was drying, Terrence double-checked the measurements.

The next day was a Sunday, but they came back anyway to install the carpeting. They must have taken the old piece from the office to be steam-cleaned or something, because it looked new when they put it down in Maritza’s new closet. And it blended perfectly with the bedroom carpet.

The new carpet in the office looked great. Even though this project started out as doing something for his sweetie, David was getting a pretty cool writing room out of the deal. The office side of the new wall then got new baseboards, in a finish that would match the new woodwork. David hadn’t noticed when they’d ripped the rest of the baseboards out in there, but the whole room had new ones by the end of the day.

The day after that was Christmas Eve, and David felt bad that they were still working for him on a holiday. He went to Terrence and told him that he’d rather the project not get done on time than to have to make people work through the holiday. Terrence compromised by only working half a day on Christmas Eve, and taking Christmas off completely, but only if David would let them work an extra-long day on the twenty-sixth and twenty-seventh. David still thought they were working too hard, but agreed.

Their projects for the day were installing the built-ins in the bedroom and the desk in the office. They’d partially pre-assembled everything at their shop, so they were able to get it all installed in a few hours. David shook Terrence’s hand and thanked everyone for doing a good job so far. He gave each of them a Christmas card with a hundred dollar bill inside on their way out. He’d thought about trying to get them gifts but had no idea what to get.

He brought his chair back up to the office and set his computer on his new desk, and he really liked it. He tried to call Maritza but her phone went to voice mail; they must have already gone to mass. He wasn’t sure what time it was for them, or what time they’d be in church. So he slipped one of her nightgowns over her pillow and cuddled with it for a while. He really missed her, but it was still too early to go to sleep.

He went down to the kitchen and tried to have some dinner. But it was Christmas Eve, and he had a big pile of leftover cookies that the renovators hadn’t eaten. So after his cheese sandwich dinner, he sat eating cookies and drinking eggnog, because you had to have eggnog with Christmas cookies, and you had to have rum in your eggnog; it just wouldn’t be proper otherwise.

So he sat there at his dining room table, sipping well-fortified eggnog and eating cookies, while staring into the living room at the racks on which all Maritza’s clothes were hanging. He was drunk enough to have gotten a little silly, and a little sappy, and thought about how easy it had been to imagine that Maritza was still around when she had made him wear her lacy lingerie top. He looked over again at the garment racks, and wondered if she had anything else made of that material.

He brought his cup with him and walked over to browse the racks, just out of curiosity. He wasn’t going to do anything with her clothes; he just wanted to look. But then he saw this thing that was probably a nightgown. The top part of it was that stretchy lace stuff like the camisole he’d worn before, but below the waist it billowed out into a satiny skirt. It was a bright Christmas red, which made it even more perfect. If he were to put it on, it would be like Maritza was there with him to celebrate the holiday. She also had a nice bright red robe that might have been supposed to go with it, so he took that too. Then he went to the box and picked out a pair of red bikini panties to complete his ensemble.

He was giggling and a little too giddy when he tiptoed up the stairs. He took off his clothes and then realized that if he was going to do this, he needed to do it right. It wouldn’t be fair to those pretty things to go onto the body he’d been sweating in all day. He took a shower, making sure to use the flowery-smelling soaps that Maritza liked him to use, and ran the conditioner through his hair twice.

She’d taken some of her grooming tools with her, but not all of them. David tried to copy her routine for drying her hair, using the thing with the little fingers that snapped onto the end of the hairdryer, and one of her special brushes with the vent holes in them. He thought he got it right, because his hair came out fuller than he’d ever seen it before.

He sniffed all of the perfume bottles she’d left behind until he found the scent that he enjoyed the most when she wore it. He sprayed some all over, and then closed his eyes and ran his fingers through his hair. It was easy to imagine that it was her hair he was touching. He shivered, and realized that he wasn’t wearing anything.

He went to the bedroom and sat on the bed to get dressed, but decided that it would be really wrong and hard to explain if he made a mess in her panties. He got a towel and a bottle of her lotion and took care of things. When he’d finished he shoved his softened parts back and pulled up his panties. Then he took a deep breath and crossed his fingers, and tried the gown on. It fit! It was kind of tight around the waist, but it was elastic and he got it around himself okay.

He looked in the mirror, and he saw a homely woman in a pretty Christmas gown. If he squinted his eyes, he could fuzz the image enough make her more attractive. He ran his hands along her lacy breasts and over her silky rear. He parted his lips and imagined a kiss. He got into bed and the skirt rode way up, so he had to get out and try it again, trying to remember how Maritza would do it. He smoothed down the silky skirt then sat on the edge of the bed, and held the gown onto his legs as he swung them around. He felt like a girl in her bed on Christmas, but around then all that rum caught up to him and he became very sleepy. He drifted off before he got a chance to fantasize.

A huge headache pounding in his skull woke David up the next morning. He felt a little disoriented, and only remembered what he was wearing when he got out of bed. He stumbled to the bathroom and took a couple aspirin, then took a moment trying to figure out how to maneuver all his clothing to use the toilet. It seemed like it would be easier to just hold his skirt up with one hand and sit like a woman. He wiped when he finished, since it seemed appropriate, and he didn’t want to drip on Maritza’s nice things.

He stood up, tucked himself back into his panties, and let the gown drop. There was that woman again in the mirror. Her hair wasn’t as fluffed up, but it had that gorgeous, messy, “just had sex” look to it. He still could smell her perfume, so he wasn’t ready to shower and change yet. He slipped into the coordinating robe and went downstairs.

He put on a pot of coffee and poured himself a glass of cranberry juice while he waited. Sitting in a chair in a nightgown felt strange. He tried crossing his legs like a woman, and there was an odd sensation when his silky smooth legs rubbed against each other. He looked down at his bare toes and wished his feet were just a little smaller so he could fit into Maritza’s shoes.

He remembered that she did have a pair of slippers that were pretty much socks with special soles on the bottom, and those might actually fit him. He dashed into the living room to figure out which crate they’d be in. It took him a few tries before he found them in with some other slippers. They had pink and white stripes, which didn’t quite go with his red nightgown, but they fit.

The coffee maker beeped, and a large cup with plenty of cream later, David was in better spirits. He had a sudden realization that it was Christmas morning, and he turned on the stereo for some holiday cheer. His favorite radio station had changed to an all-carols format for the week. As the throbbing in his head settled down, he started singing along with the songs. When “Deck the Halls” came on, and he got to “don we now our gay apparel,” he danced a little twirl to show off his gown, and started giggling uncontrollably.

As he was dancing around the room, he also realized that his halls had not been decked as yet. They were supposed to celebrating a late Christmas when Maritza got home, but his townhouse was still undecorated. He’d been focusing so much on getting her present ready (and a little time playing around in her underwear) that he hadn’t gotten out his boxes of decorations yet. He didn’t even have his tree up.

If he were to go get out his Christmas stuff, he’d then need to get dressed, and he was still having fun in his sleepwear, so he put it off and got something to eat. The little curious voice in the back of his head said that if he did have to take off the nightgown to work on Christmassing up the place, maybe he could try on some more of her clothes and wear what she would have worn to if she were doing the decorating. But his sensible nature prevailed, and after breakfast he put on jeans and a t-shirt and a pair of his own moccasins and lugged his holiday stuff out of the garage.

He needed space to put up his Christmas tree, so he pushed his dining table over and rolled the garment racks into his dining area. His tree was a seven-foot tall pre-lighted artificial spruce that he’d picked up not long after coming to California. Getting real trees always used to depress him, as they’d stand in a saucer of water and slowly die, shedding needles all over the carpet.

He had about half the ornaments on the tree when his phone rang. He got his hopes up that it was his Sweetheart, but it was just Claude checking in to make sure he was okay all by himself. He and Antoine had gone skiing in Utah for the holiday. It amused Claude to flaunt his boyfriend in front of a state full of Mormons who wanted his tourist dollars. David told him he’d been decorating, but skipped the part about twirling around in a lacy nightgown.

He got the rest of the ornaments on the tree and then took a break to eat lunch, even though it was already nearly suppertime. He wasn’t too hungry so he just pulled some leftovers together into a sandwich. He wondered what time it was in Venezuela, and if it would be a good time to call. There was only one way to find out. He opened his phone and pushed the button.

She answered on the second ring. “Oh, hey Baby! Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas to you, too. Is it okay to call now?”

“Sure. We weren’t doing much. Yesterday was when we do the big celebration. Today is for peaceful reflection.”

“I was doing some reflecting, but mostly just about how I missed you. I’m glad you’ll be back here in three days.”

“I miss you too, Baby. It’s nice to see my family, but I’m just about ready to go back home to you.”

“I’ll have a big surprise present to show you, that I hope you like.” David hoped the construction would all be finished before she got back.

“I’ve been working on a surprise for you, too. And I’ve made arrangements for something extra special to be delivered the week after I come home.”

“You’re definitely piquing my interest. Will I get my surprise right away? I don’t think I’ll be able to keep from giving you your surprise as soon as you’re here again.”

“I’m not sure. It might have to wait until Sunday.”

“That reminds me, we’ve been invited to a New Year’s Eve party at Claude’s. Can I accept for us?”

“He’s your best friend, and sometimes my boss, so I think I’d have to say yes.”

“Thanks. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Maritza sort of whispered her response, and David could overhear some loud female voices in the background talking rapid Spanish. “My mother is overreacting right now, and I have to go calm her down. I’ll talk to you later, Baby!” She hung up to quickly for him to say goodbye.

He finished with his decorations and then debated with himself over what to wear to bed. Part of him wanted to see how much fun he could have in her nightgown if he didn’t fall asleep right away, but another part of him was terrified that he might like that too much. He ended up choosing to slip between the sheets completely naked. It turned out there was still a lingering aroma of perfume on the pillow, so that curious part of himself had an easy time running his hands over soft, smooth skin and imagining a nude woman in the bed.

***

The next morning, he picked a particularly feminine pair of panties, just to be fun. They were pale purple satin with pretty ivory-colored lace all around the leg openings. They only covered about a third of each cheek in back, letting the rest peek out sexily. He could really feel his jeans against his bare skin when he sat down.

The crew arrived and went straight to work. The first step in installing the closet system involved attaching some bracket-type hardware to the closet walls. They had to be measured precisely, and David could tell that his watching them work wasn’t helping any. He left to make sure there would be coffee when they were ready to take a break.

Karen was down in the living room double-checking her inventory lists, and sorting Maritza’s hanging things by length to make sure that their plan allowed for enough space for everything. She noticed David coming into the room and pulled him aside. “Can I speak frankly with you?”

“Sure. Is there a problem? Will everything not fit or something?”

“No, nothing like that — I was going over my count of drawers and noticed something.”

David wasn’t sure he liked the expression on her face. She looked devious. “What’s the matter?”

“Well, drawers. You don’t have any.” His confused face made her explain further. “You know how we’re putting in ‘His’ and ‘Hers’ closets? I realized that we don’t have any underpants for the ‘His’ closet here, even though our plan was going to give you a drawer for them. And when I checked your laundry hamper, (I wasn’t snooping; we’re putting new ones in the closets, so I had to make sure all your laundry would fit) I saw that all you’ve got in there is ladies’ panties. I don’t know why you thought you had to tell us some elaborate story about your imaginary girlfriend. Terrence has done closets for transvestites before. If you’d just been straight with us — oh wait, wrong turn of phrase — if you’d just been honest and told us both closets were for you, we might have been able to fit your needs better.” She folded her arms and glared at him.

David was close to losing his composure. He’d been so stupid! He should have expected the people working on his closet to have noticed that! He told Karen his whole embarrassing story about how his girlfriend had taken all his underwear on vacation with her, and he had to show her several pictures of Maritza on his phone before she’d believe him, but by the end they were both laughing. She agreed not to tell the boys his little secret, and would be going ahead with giving him an empty underwear drawer in his new closet.

Once all the brackets were in place, Rafael and Jorge starting bringing the modular pieces that would attach to them in from off the truck. They were very nice looking pieces of cabinetry, all cherry and brushed nickel. They brought David up to see how Maritza’s closet looked empty, and it was very impressive. It looked exactly like it had on the computer.

While Karen and Terrence worked on loading Maritza’s wardrobe into all the assigned spaces, the boys started putting the brackets in the other closets. They were a very well organized team, and David still just felt in the way. They were going so smoothly, it looked like they’d be finished that day without having to stay too late. He asked if they’d let him cook a nice dinner for them in appreciation for their outstanding work, and they took him up on the offer.

He kept busy in the kitchen and stayed out of their hair. He made his chicken and dumplings, because that recipe was easy to extend to a larger group. He didn’t have enough of any one fresh vegetable, so he steamed a combination of broccoli, carrots, and snow peas, and served them in a light butter sauce. It was a simple meal, but they all ate heartily and complimented him. He humbly said it was the least he could do after they gave him such beautiful new rooms.

He gave Terrence his final check, and thanked him again. They packed up their equipment, and all David had to do was load his confidential files into his new filing cabinet. He loved his new writing room, and was sure it would be an excellent space to work in. He started working on notes for a new novel just to be sure. The new indirect lighting was perfect for word processing.

***

Claude came over to see the new closets the next day and simply gushed over them. He absolutely loved the woodwork, but the best thing in his opinion was the full-length, natural light mirror. He was so jealous of Maritza, and warned David that he should rest up before getting her at the airport, because she would be screwing his brains out in gratitude for hours over getting such a spectacular space!

Of course, he was so anxious he barely got any sleep the night before she was to return. He thought about taking her car, so she could drive it home. But he’d hate to have something happen to her Baby while he was behind the wheel; she’d never forgive him.

When she saw him waiting when she got through customs, she wanted to drop her suitcases and run into his arms, but there was a security guy standing by a sign telling people to stay with their bags. So she had to work her way through to him and hand him her luggage before she could through her arms around him and kiss him forever.

When they came up for air, they exchanged “I love you”s and had a little debate about who missed whom more, that nauseated the old married couples around them, but they didn’t care. She was home. A few more kisses accompanied their walk through the parking lot. Her flight had worn her out; David was glad he hadn’t made her drive.

She was so tired when they got to the townhouse that she just wanted to collapse. She asked if her surprise could wait until the next day, and pouted at him when he said he didn’t think it could. But then he led her upstairs into the bedroom, and she saw the new furniture, and the new closet doors, and she smiled when she realized what her surprise was.

He opened the door and showed her her new closet, and she got a kind of second wind cooing over all the wonderful little spaces. It took a moment for her to notice that she had much more closet than before, and he took her around to see the changes to his office. She approved. He brought her back to the bedroom, and made sure she saw all the features of her new dresser with integrated vanity table and lighted mirror, and then she started fading again.

He helped her undress down to his green striped boxers, and then stripped himself down to her sheer yellow boyleg panties, and then spooned her as she drifted off to sleep.

Oscar Night by Jennifer Brock Last time, we saw how novelist/screenwriter David Fine spent his Christmas holiday alone, as his girlfriend fashion model Maritza Delgado was back in Venezuela visiting her family. In this installment, we follow Maritza on her first full day back in town, as she prepares a surprise for David. (There's not a lot of TG in this one, and it's a little shorter than usual.)

Part 8

Maritza woke up cuddling her pretty boyfriend, and snuck a hand over and gently stroked his baby-smooth behind. He was so sexy in her panties! It was too bad that she’d brought back his boxers, but she was ready to wear her own underwear again. His were just too loose and bulky to work under some of her clothes. And if she was going to be wearing her own panties again, it was only fair to return his. But his little butt just looked so cute in satin and lace!

She’d spent two whole weeks away from him, and she really missed being with him. She’d been so worn out from her flight that all they’d did her first night back was sleep, and that just had not been enough. She slipped out of bed and went to brush her teeth.

Peeling off her boxers, she decided to wake David with a kiss, hoping the lingering taste of toothpaste in her mouth would counter his morning breath. She rolled him onto his back and brought her lips to his. He squirmed a little, but didn’t wake up completely. It would take something more to bring him around. She licked her fingers and started playing with his nipples.

He groaned a little, which seemed like a good sign. She moved her right hand down to stroke the front of his panties, but there was no bulge there — he was totally flat like a real girl! Further investigation was required. She tugged the panties down off his hips, and found the hidden treasure, where it had been pushed down and away. When sprung free, she lightly kissed him and then tickled him with a quick puff of air.

He started showing more signs of life, so she gave him a little more attention. She took him into her mouth and sucked gently, slurping her tongue along his most tender area. Feeling it stiffen inside her mouth was a major turn-on, and she had to let her left hand drift down to take the edge off her growing desire.

When he’d reached his full size, she moved her mouth to the side and ran her tongue along every surface of his shaft. David was making little sounds by that point, so she figured he was awake enough. She crawled up and kneeled straddling his hips, and then lined everything up before slowly lowering herself onto him.

It was wonderful to feel him inside her again after so long! It was as though she hadn’t truly come home from her trip until that moment. She bounced upon the man she loved, and noticed that he was flexing in response to her. He was clearly more awake than he looked. She increased her speed and intensity, and made sure that he was hitting all the right spots.

He waited until after she’d been satisfied to let his juices flow, so he must have been mostly awake. She leaned down and whispered, “I love you, Baby,” and gave him a deep kiss.

After cleaning herself off somewhat in the bathroom, she went into her incredible new closet to get dressed. It was the best present anyone had ever gotten her. With a space that was customized just for her, it felt less like she was living in David’s place and more like a space for both of them.

Wearing his boxer shorts for two weeks had been sexy fun, but it had also meant two weeks of visible panty lines. It was refreshing to get back into a lacy little black thong. After popping on a pair of nude knee-highs, she slid her legs into her favorite ultra-tight jeans. She picked out a seamless tan t-shirt bra and a tight sleeveless red top. Her ensemble was completed with her distressed chocolate brown leather jacket and matching ankle boots. She loved the way all her shoes were organized in their own little spaces!

Before coming out of the closet, she got out her gym stuff and threw it in her bag. All her purses and totes were hanging on special hooks — it was soo cool!

She gave David another kiss on her way out, and grabbed her purse and sunglasses. Even in December, in L.A. you never leave the house without your shades. She took her keys and went to the garage to see how much her other Baby missed her. It wasn’t quite warm enough to leave the top down, particularly after having spent a couple weeks in the equatorial warmth of Venezuela.

She got in and turned the ignition, then let the motor warm up for a bit before taking it out. Mama needs to treat Baby gentle when she first wakes up. When the sound of the engine let her know it was ready, she put it in gear and pulled out of the garage.

She went for a cruise on the freeway just for fun. Her sister didn’t let Maritza drive her car, even though she was the one who’d paid for it, so she really missed driving. Lucia would probably get along well with David; they were both scared of the way she drove.

Eventually, she made it to her gym. She showed her ID and checked the schedule. There was a cardio class available, but she had a little time to kill first. After changing into her blue and white bra top and yoga pants, a nice pair of thick white socks and her cross trainers, she found a free treadmill and started it up for a light warm-up.

She realized she’d forgotten her music when a Gym Jerk who seemed to have taken the machine next to hers so he could keep staring at her ass tried to start up a conversation. Normally she could just tune that stuff out, but this guy was getting on her nerves. She decided to challenge him to a race. They zeroed out their counters, and the first one to hit five miles would win. Their machines were too far apart for him to see her readout, so she just continued at her usual pace, and lied every so often about how far she’d gone.

The big, sweaty meathead won the race of course, but he wore himself out by trying too long a sprint at the end, and he still hadn’t caught his breath when she had to leave to go get to class. She flagged down a trainer and pointed her in his direction before she went to cardio.

The instructor for the class was one she’d had before. Lyle was a little guy, probably not more than five feet tall, but he knew how to push people into giving their all. It was a good workout. She finished up with a little bit of weight training, and then hit the showers.

She put her street clothes back on and called David. “Hi, Sweetie! Have you gotten out of bed yet?”

“Yes, I did. And thanks for this morning. You can be my alarm clock any day.”

“I just wanted to let you know I won’t be home for lunch. I’m in the middle of a bunch of errands that will take me a while to get through.”

“Ok, I’ll just have to do something special for your first dinner back.”

“No, don’t!”

“Excuse me?”

“Sorry, that came out sharper than I wanted it to. Don’t make any plans for dinner. I’ll take care of it.”

“It’s our first meal together in a long time, and you’d rather have something from an impersonal restaurant than from a loving kitchen, that’s your decision. Our first big home-cooked meal will just be tomorrow, then.”

“Ok, then. I’ve got to go. Love you!”

“I love you, too.”

She closed her phone and returned it to her purse. She really hoped her plan didn’t fall apart. It all started when her mother had been giving her the third degree about David, and what she saw in him. Maritza had casually mentioned that he was an excellent cook, and her mother just lost it. A man cooking for his woman was so distasteful to her, that she spent six days training Maritza to cook a meal for her man instead.

She thought it might be kind of nice to cook something for David, for a change. The meal she’d been taught was pabellá³n criollo, Venezuela’s national dish, which involved cooking four different things at the same time, so she really hoped she wasn’t reaching too far beyond her ability.

To get authentic ingredients, she’d have to drive over to East L.A., which was always a pain. Any time she had to speak Spanish, her accent made her sound like the poor uneducated girl she used to be and not the cosmopolitan world traveler she’d become. But she put up with it since it would also be easier shopping in Spanish than trying to translate her mother’s recipe into English and then looking through the kitchen to figure out whether they already had any of the spices and things. On the bright side, there were plenty of decent places where she could grab some lunch.

It took her a few hours to get her shopping done, mainly because she wanted to find a market where she’d feel safe parking her Baby. Sure, she had an alarm and a LoJack, but she was afraid that some Mexican lowrider could take her to a chop shop and have her gutted for parts faster than it would take the cops to show up. She should have taken David’s car.

It worried her a little that being afraid of Mexicans made her some kind of racist hypocrite, but she managed to convince herself that it wasn’t all the Mexicans she was worried about. The sweet old ladies that were also out doing their shopping were decent people. It was the guys that were probably in gangs that scared her, and being afraid of criminals was reasonable. That made sense.

A little more freeway therapy and she got in a good mood again. The gas prices seemed to have gotten much worse while she was gone, or maybe it was just that the prices were so much lower in Venezuela that they seemed too high back in the US. But with David covering all the bills, she had plenty of money for gas, so she could handle the massive rates.

When she got home, she dropped her shopping bags and shooed David out of the kitchen, explaining that she’d be the one cooking dinner for them. He tried to stick around to help her out, but she said that it was important for her to do this all by herself.

She put her meat in the fridge, and then checked her mother’s recipe, adding up all the cooking times to figure out when she needed to get started. It looked like she had to kill some time first or they’d be eating way too early.

She tracked down David in his new office. It was a little smaller, but it looked pretty cool. She thanked him again for her incredible new closet, and feared that she might not be able to something as nice for him. She told him all about how her mother had insisted that she should be able to cook a meal for her man, and she went along with it. But that meant she’d have to make dinner for him at least once; otherwise she would have lied to her mother, and she just couldn’t do that.

David told her not to worry. He was certain that he’d love anything she made. And her devotion to her family made her soul seem even lovelier than he’d ever imagined. He gave her a big kiss offered again to give her a hand in the kitchen, like maybe she wouldn’t know where he kept everything. She waggled a finger at him and told him to stay away; if she couldn’t figure out where something was she’d call him, but otherwise he was to keep away.

David watched her leave the room and couldn’t stop smiling. How could you not love someone so amazing? If Claude didn’t have his mother’s ring, he’d have proposed right then and there. This was definitely the girl he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

Maritza tried to start with the easy stuff first. Because she didn’t want to have to postpone her meal a day, she hadn’t gotten the dried black beans that needed to soak overnight. She’d bought canned beans, but she wasn’t sure if the liquid they were packed in needed to be drained, or if you were supposed to cook them in it. She decided to just empty the cans into the pan; it looked kind of like it was supposed to.

She started making the rice next, but her recipe was in metric, and David’s measuring cups weren’t. The glass pitcher thing for measuring the water had both measurements, but the little scoop cups for the dry stuff didn’t. So she used the lines on the glass thing to figure out how to approximate milliliters with cups, and felt pretty smart for solving her problem.

The meat dish was the most complicated. She had to start by chopping up onions and garlic cloves. At least this part didn’t need measuring. She found a knife, but couldn’t find a cutting board to chop on. She decided to get cute and called David on her cell phone to ask where the cutting board was. It turned out that she hadn’t found it because it wasn’t made of wood; it was a big slab of plastic. But also, it turns out that it was a good thing she asked because he had four of them that were color-coded based on what you were cutting. She got out the green one for her vegetables.

When she was learning to cook this, her mother had slapped her hands with a big spoon every time she started chopping the onions and tried to wipe her eyes. But this time she wasn’t there, and Maritza learned how much worse than just crying from the fumes it got if you rubbed your eyes with onion juice on your hands. It still stung like hell after splashing some water on her face, but she summoned all the skills that let her stand in a painful pose with a big smile on her face to keep from screaming.

While the onions were cooking, she chopped tomatoes and that went perfectly. When all the vegetables and spices were mixed together and doing nicely, she found a frying pan and got it ready for the meat. She browned it evenly on both sides, and then used her mother’s technique for shredding it in the pan with a knife and a fork. David’s pan wasn’t made out of the same kind of stuff as her mother’s, and she hoped the little scratches she was making would come out in the wash.

The meat went in with the vegetables, and then she could reuse the frying pan for the plantains that were her favorite part of the meal. The variety she’d found in the Mexican market didn’t look exactly the same as the kind she’d been practicing on in Venezuela, but she didn’t think there would be that much difference. They sliced down the middle just as easily.

Once everything was cooked, she called David down for dinner. She spooned the various elements out and arranged them on a plate as she’d been taught. The rice came out a little too dry, and some was stuck to the bottom of the pot. The beans were too wet, but she could fix that by switching to a slotted serving spoon and draining off some liquid before putting them on the plate. The plantains looked fine, and when she built the little wall on the plate they held the meat in just like they were supposed to.

She’d forgotten to set the table or put out water glasses or anything, but she saw that David was taking care of that for her. She set out the two plates on the placemats, and he held her chair for her. He was sweet like that. She just hoped he liked it.

He wished her a Merry Christmas, and she explained that even though this was the Venezuelan national dish and she was making this as part of their holiday celebration, it wasn’t actually the traditional Venezuelan Christmas meal. Her mother had wanted her to learn how to cook something for every day, and besides she wasn’t sure if American grocers would have plantain leaves, the key ingredient in making hallaca. He nodded appropriately and eagerly dove into his plate.

David smiled and told her it was delicious. But she knew it wasn’t. Her mother would not have been happy with her. The rice tasted faintly like smoke. The only flavor the beans had was a strong saltiness. The plantains weren’t cooked thoroughly enough; they must have been thicker than she was used to. The meat part did come out okay, and it was supposed to be the center of the meal, but she was still very disappointed with herself.

He could tell that she was feeling down and came over to give her a warm hug, and told her that it was the best meal he’d had since his grandmother died. She tried to point out all her mistakes but he silenced her protest with kisses. He said that it might have had minor flaws, but he could taste what was most important. This meal had been prepared with love, and that was the greatest ingredient of all.

That was a cheesy line, and coming from any other guy it would have been just too cornball, but she could feel his sincerity and it just made her melt in his arms. This was the first man she’d ever wanted to try to cook for, and she was sure he’d also be the last.

He told her it was the best Christmas present she could have gotten him. She told him that this was just something her mother had wanted her to do for him; his real present should be showing up in a week, and the only hint she’d give him was that it was vanilla-flavored.

Oscar Night by Jennifer Brock Novelist/screenwriter David Fine and his girlfriend fashion model have had some of their Christmas celebration, but not all of it. In this installment, they attend a New Year's Eve party thrown by his best friend clothing designer Claude Marsh. Maritza had promised David a surprise, and we find out what it is. A character shows up that we haven't seen in a while. Way back when, David had promised to wear a gown if he was nominated for an Oscar; in this installment, the nominations are announced. And finally, the conspiracy is revealed!

Part 9
Usually, Claude’s parties were huge affairs with a hundred guests, live music, and a champagne fountain. But he did something different for this New Year’s Eve. It was a more intimate dinner party with a few friends and business associates. David found that concept much more comfortable, and he was actually looking forward to going to a party for a change.

Even though it wasn’t a big shindig, that didn’t mean they couldn’t dress up. Maritza wore an amazing black silk gown (one of Claude’s, of course) that softly draped her curves as though it were flowing liquid, all without seeming to be excessively tight or revealing.

David knew he wanted to wear something Claude had made, but he wasn’t sure. Maritza thought it should wear the red tux he wore on their first date, but he said no even when she asked him nicely. However he quickly agreed when she asked him naughtily. She made him wear a black shirt under it instead of the white, and that lent an air of gothic mystery to his look. He still thought he looked like a pimp, but a smoother one at least. Maritza had even braided his ponytail for him, so he felt it had a kind of “Kung Fu” aesthetic. The red ribbon she tied it off with detracted from that a little, but fortunately he couldn’t see it.

David didn’t like to be late, so he made sure they were on time for the party, but they still turned out to be the last guests to arrive. Claude showed them into the lounge and made introductions. David recognized a slender black girl who was chatting with Antoine as Vanessa, one of Claude’s assistants. He’d seen her a few times before when he’d met Claude for lunch.

A pudgy guy who apparently knew Maritza ran up to her and “air kissed” both cheeks. Jeffrey was a beautician who’d worked on her a few times when she’d done shows for Claude. He was there with his partner Tomas, a bronze set of muscles in a silk suit.

Kay was a strawberry blonde in her mid thirties who kept to herself mostly and quietly watched the crowd. She was an acting coach that Claude had brought in to help one of his models prepare for a show. David didn’t quite get all the details, but apparently the model was going to be wearing the centerpiece of the presentation, and Claude wanted to make sure she projected the proper emotion or something like that.

The other guests were an older couple, Ben and Evelyn. David could not figure out whether Ben had married much younger or if Evelyn was just in really good shape. Evelyn was very excited to meet David. She was a big fan of his books. In fact, when she’d learned that he was going to be there, she’d brought her hardcover copy of Sublimation in her purse, and David gladly agreed to sign it for her. He still had a hard time thinking of himself as famous, so it felt a little weird.

Maritza told her that she would be sure to love the next one, and Evelyn was extremely jealous that she’d gotten to read it before it was published. Claude snarled that he wasn’t even allowed to look at the manuscript. David got embarrassed and said that he’d wanted to impress her, and she’d shown a little interest on their first date, so for their second he’d brought her the book. Maritza pointed out that it was part of what drew her to him, that instead of flowers for her nose or chocolates for her tongue, he’d brought something to stimulate her mind. Most guys don’t even think that models have brains, but David saw her as a reader.

He was being lectured at length about proper eyebrow maintenance by Jeffrey when he was rescued by the announcement that it was time for everyone to go to the dining room. There weren’t any place cards or anything, so they were all free to choose their own neighbors at the table.

The dinner was delicious. Claude had hired an excellent caterer. They started with a fairly ordinary salad of crisp greens, but then the main entrée was a tender beef roulade in a puff pastry with a herbal mushroom filling, and it came with baby potatoes prepared in a balsamic glaze and a steamed carrot in the shape of a rose.

Maritza nudged David and said, “This is too complicated. I like your cooking better.”

Evelyn cocked her head. “You cook?”

Claude took control of the conversation and regaled them all with how impressed he’d been by David’s skill in the kitchen. David tried to shrug it off and just explain that he was raised by his grandmother and she taught him. He just thought that preparing a meal was the best way to center a home, and bring family or friends together. Kay smiled and said that it was a very sweet sentiment, and not one most men would share. The center of a man’s house was usually the living room, not the kitchen. That was probably the most she spoke all night.

After coffee and dessert, which was a miniature cheesecake layered with bitter dark chocolate, sweet caramel, and sour raspberry syrup, they gathered in the den to hear an exquisite performance from a young female violin player. David didn’t know anything about classical music, but the pieces she played were sad and beautiful. The audience convinced her to play two encores before she really had to leave.

The party had been so high-brow and low-key that they’d almost forgotten the holiday. Antoine went out on the terrace and started squinting at the horizon, and suddenly he pointed and called to everyone. If you looked in just the right spot, you could just barely see the fireworks that were going off over Marina Del Rey. That made everyone check their watches and at eleven-thirty Claude broke out the champagne and poured out a glass for each of his guests. He tuned his big-screen TV to the live countdown show, and at precisely the stroke of midnight they all shared a toast, and the couples shared kisses.

As David looked forward to a new year that would bring new possibilities and opportunities while he held the one the wanted to share it all with in his arms, it was a perfect moment. He took a moment to debate with himself about asking Claude to get Maritza’s engagement ring so he could propose to her, but he wanted a more intimate setting, and it still seemed like there were too many strangers around.

No one was too drunk to drive home, but they did wait an hour for the crazies to get off the road.

***

Maritza was fairly busy that week, with several auditions (or as they liked to call them in the modeling business “go-sees”) to be part of shows in events related to February’s Fashion Week. She ended up getting hired by Claude’s company, without pulling any strings or calling in any favors.

On Friday afternoon, she called David and told him she’d be bringing a friend home for dinner, but that neither of them was hungry for anything really heavy so he didn’t have to go through too much trouble. Fortunately, he hadn’t started the roast he’d been thinking of, and could switch to doing a soup and salad meal instead. He checked to make sure he had a good supply of vegetables, and then took some out some frozen soup stock and put it on to thaw. While in the freezer, he saw that he’d had some bread dough ready to go. His grandmother had taught him to always have the makings of a meal handy, in order to be ready for anything.

By five-thirty he had a nice chicken and vegetables soup simmering, and a colander of bowtie pasta ready to be added right before serving. A peasant loaf in the oven was making the kitchen smell like home. He’d washed the lettuce for the salad and was slicing cucumbers when the front door opened and he heard something heavy being dropped in the front hall.

Maritza walked into the kitchen. “You remember Amanda, right?” A thin girl with freckles on her nose and long red hair was with her. She wore a long-sleeved short green dress that matched her eyes, and white tights with an argyle pattern.

David thought about where he’d seen her. “You were at that apartment where I picked up Maritza in New York, right?” He reached out to shake her hand.

Amanda grabbed his hand and used it to pull him toward her. “That’s absolutely correct.” She surprised him with a kiss that was a little more than friendly and then let him go. “Ritz has some stuff to do upstairs, so is there something I can do to help you with dinner?”

There was something about her he was trying to remember. He put her to work washing tomatoes while he finished the cucumbers and worked on figuring out what was significant about her. He tried making small talk. “So, what brings you out to the left coast? Working on a fun fashion job?”

“My agent got me a commercial, and they’re shooting out here. But that’s not until Monday. I’ve got all weekend to play!”

“Did they put you up in a nice place?”

“They got me a room at the Marriott in Burbank. It’s a decent place; I’ve stayed there before. But I don’t check in until Sunday. I’m crashing here with you guys until then.” She flashed him a big grin.

“We’re not really set up for guests, but we can try to set up something. I don’t think anyone’s ever slept on our couch.”

“Don’t be silly! Ritz tells me you’ve got a nice big king-size bed. I’m sure I’ll fit in there fine.”

David instantly remembered, and nearly cut his hand as he dropped the knife. Amanda had introduced herself back in New York as someone Maritza used to date. She’d invited her ex-girlfriend to spend the weekend, sleeping in the same bed. Was she getting bored with him? Was kicking him out of his own bed her way of breaking up with him? He stepped back and had to hold his head while he took a few breaths.

Amanda didn’t know what to do. She ran to the stairway and called up, “Hey, Ritz! You’d better get down here. Something’s wrong with your man.”

Maritza dropped what she was doing and ran down to the kitchen. She recognized immediately that David was having one of his panic attacks. She guided him to a chair and held him tightly. “It’s okay, Baby. I’m here.” She stroked his hair while he shook. “What’s the matter?”

David tried to brave. He tried to man up and be strong, but his nose was running. “Are you leaving me to get back together with your ex-girlfriend?”

Amanda laughed at this and Maritza shot her a look. “No, you must have misunderstood something she said. Yes, Amanda and I have slept together before, be we were never girlfriend girlfriends. We were never in love or anything, right?”

“Nope, but you are sexy as hell and great in the sack!”

“Anyway, we were going to surprise you after dinner, but I guess I can tell you now. She’s the rest of your Christmas present from me.”

“What?”

“Every man has the fantasy about being with two women at once, and tonight we’re going to give that to you.”

“Yeah, we were working together a couple months ago, and I mentioned that I was between boyfriends and she told me all about how wonderful hers was, and that you were sexy and smooth all over, and that intrigued me, so I said why don’t we give your man a triple delight some time, and she at first didn’t want to share you, but I convinced her.”

“But, I don’t need another woman; I only need you.”

“That’s very sweet, but I know you will enjoy this. We’ll explain the rules to you after dinner. But first I need her help to finish getting ready upstairs. Will you be okay to finish getting this ready on your own?”

“Um, ok.” He nodded, waiting for his brain to catch up with all this new information.

Maritza kissed him and went out, and for good measure Amanda kissed him, too. He had absolutely no frame of reference for this. He almost missed the timer going off to tell him the bread was ready.

His head was still buzzing all through the meal. He didn’t have time to question anything when Maritza told him not to open a bottle of wine and served water glasses instead, and he did as he was told when Amanda handed her a couple of pills and she told him to take them. “The white one is to mellow you out a little. We don’t want you having a heart attack or a stroke or whatever. The blue one, well, everyone knows what the blue one is for. We want you to be able to go the distance.”

Maritza went to get ready, and Amanda helped David clear the table. When they finished, she brought him upstairs. The bedroom and master bath were lit with candles. There was a strong fragrance of vanilla in the air, and soft music was playing. Maritza was sitting on the end of the bed wearing nothing but a silk robe. Amanda went into the bath, and Maritza helped David undress and get into a matching robe of his own. She showed him how there was a heated infuser over on her makeup table sending scented oil into the room. She also pointed out that each nightstand had been cleared off and now only had two things on top: a folded towel and a tube of massage oil.

They walked over to the bathroom and Amanda was also in a robe, but she also wore a shower cap, and held one out for each of them. They helped David get his hair under the cap and then showed him the room, where big fluffy towels had been set out on the counter.

Amanda told him what was going on. “The rules are simple. Everyone is allowed to touch everyone else anywhere on or inside any part of their body, with any part of their body. Does that make sense?” He nodded. “And we start by getting completely clean, which is why we’re in here. But there’s one more thing you need to know. No talking is allowed, unless you’re in unbearable pain.”

“Okay.”

Maritza came in from the bedroom. “There’s one more thing you need to know. You only get to use your sense of touch. The windows are covered with blackout curtains, and I even covered the little blinky lights on the stereo with tape. With the candles out it’s totally dark in there. And all you can smell or taste is vanilla, and all you’ll hear is the music. You’ll never know who is doing what to who.”

She dropped her robe, got in the shower, and turned the water on. Amanda blew out the candles in the bathroom, and it became complete darkness. David soon felt his robe being untied, and hands pulled him into the shower, while other hands pushed. Someone started rubbing soap all over his body, which had more of that vanilla scent. While someone was washing his back, another bar of soap was pressed into his hand, which was guided onto a breast. He hadn’t thought Amanda’s were this big, so it must have been Maritza’s. He played around as he washed, spending an inordinate amount of time getting those nipples clean.

He moved on down, soaping up her stomach, sticking a sudsy finger in her belly button, and then moved his hands out to scrub her hips, then brought them together in the middle. When his thumbs hit a little patch of curly hair, he realized the naked woman he’d been touching wasn’t his girlfriend. He knew what he’d planned to do next when he thought it was Maritza, but now he didn’t know what to do, and froze there for a moment.

Suddenly, he was surprised as the bar of soap washing between his buttocks slipped inside him. He reflexively leaned forward, and now his hands were definitely touching something he wasn’t supposed to. He couldn’t come up with a better idea, so he washed it, paying some extra attention to her button with his thumb, and trying not to get any soap inside her.

She widened her stance a bit and he took the hint, teasing her labia with his fingers while the other hand kept the soap far away. Someone was now soaping up his erection, and a hand passed his on the haunch he was washing. He thought he might have heard kissing, and his hand was pushed aside from where it was. He was spun around and rinsed off, and he totally lost his bearings.

Someone turned off the water and opened the shower door, and he was taken by the hand and guided to a towel. It was soft and warm. He dried himself off, and then gentle fingers removed his shower cap and ran through his hair. His eyes were going crazy trying to find the smallest glint of light, but it was absolutely black. His towel was pulled from him and he was led toward the bedroom.

It was just as dark in there. He slowly walked to the bed while several hands slid over his body. He was pushed down onto the bed, and a mouth found his for a deep kiss. Then a hand turned his face and he was kissed from the other side. He felt a cool splash as someone squirted oil on his chest, but it quickly warmed up as fingers started smoothing it across his skin.

One of the hands stroking his chest found a nipple, and the mouth on his lips moved down to suckle at it. He tentatively moved his arm and gently stroked the back and shoulders of whoever was licking him. She seemed to like that; a hand found his other nipple and started playing with it.

Whoever was on his other side had his arm trapped under her body and was nibbling on his ear. He got bold and rotated his wrist around so that his fingers touched a soft thigh. She shifted position a little to give him more freedom. A hand touched his and led it up and back, where he found an eager wetness. He spent a little time exploring all the important parts, and then set his fingers to work. A moment of curiosity crossed his mind, and he wasn’t sure who he was touching but he realized that it didn’t matter.

The girl under his left moved around, and her hand brought his to a breast and held it there as she changed position. He felt himself being mounted, and before long he heard lips smacking and he realized that the two women he was inside of were kissing, and they were rocking with the same rhythm. His free hand discovered that all four breasts were within reach, and played around teasing all four nipples.

The one on his hand hit her climax first, but the one on his penis wasn’t far behind. David relaxed and had his own release. They collapsed in a pile and had a brief moment to breathe, but shortly someone was kissing him and pulling him up to a kneeling position. Then someone else was kissing him much lower, and the little blue pill was doing its job admirably.

The one on his face moved around and then his back was being oiled, and peppered with little kisses. He hands were empty, so he reached out to try to touch someone and thought he found a smooth, sexy leg but it turned out to be his own. The girl on his back moved lower and lower and soon oily fingers were between his cheeks and spiraling around to tempt, to tease and finally to slip sensually inside him.

The finger (or fingers) found the right spot and he was almost there, but then it withdrew out of him and he missed its presence. However something else replaced it — was that a tongue? Being orally serviced at both ends was just too too pleasurable, and he couldn’t help but explode.

After another quick rest, they rearranged themselves and started up again. It went on for quite some time, a jumbled mishmash of confusing body parts, all stroking, fondling, penetrating, and being penetrated by each other. Eventually they all fell asleep in an interlocking naked human pretzel.

David woke up the next day at some time that felt like morning, he went into the bathroom. It was still dark, and they’d duct taped the light switch so he couldn’t turn it on. So it wouldn’t make a mess, he sat down to relieve himself then wiped off the seat. He was still oily. He groped around on the floor for a robe and then went downstairs to start breakfast. The clock in the kitchen told him that it was actually closer to lunchtime.

He wasn’t really sure how to react to what they’d done. It had been intense, and supposedly every guy’s dream, but in the light of day he felt a little guilty about it. And he wasn’t sure how he’d ever do any baking again when the scent of vanilla would now be triggering naughty, sexy thoughts.

He busied himself putting together a refreshing brunch. He checked in on the ladies, trying to see who was who from the little bit of light coming from the hall door. He kissed a shoulder and lightly whispered that there was food in the kitchen. Someone moaned and he left to set the table.

He heard the shower running, and the ladies came down about an hour later, all cleaned and dressed and made up pretty. He was embarrassed to still be in his robe. He took the frittata out of the oven to cool and they helped themselves to coffee and fruit salad. While the girls were eating, he snuck upstairs for a quick wash and a change of clothes. It was hard to do working blind.

He wondered how they were able to look so put together getting ready in the dark, and figured it was probably something models got good at, but then Amanda complimented David on how amazing Maritza’s closet was, and he remembered that she had a light switch in there, as well as one on her makeup table.

The women were acting like it was just another day and nothing unusual had taken place, so David didn’t find any opportunity to talk about what had happened. The only real thing out of the ordinary was that Maritza did a load of laundry to wash the sticky bedding and towels. Otherwise, she and Amanda just chatted all day, catching up on mutual friends and associates.

In the evening, they brought Amanda along for their usual swim in the pool. He imagined that his neighbors would be peeking out and wondering how he got to be such a stud, with a beautiful girl on each arm.

Back at the townhouse it was a repeat of the night before, starting with a shared shower to rinse off the chlorine. David was tense and nervous, so he asked to be medicated again. The rules were back in place: pitch dark, no talking, overwhelming aura of vanilla.

He seemed to be even more uninhibited the second time, occasionally even taking the initiative and moving someone into a better position for easier accessibility by his tongue or fingers or other. And he didn’t panic when he was nearly smothered a couple of times by one of them overenthusiastically grinding herself against his face.

They slept even later on Sunday. David wasn’t the first to wake up this time, and they shoved him into the shower. Amanda barely had time for lunch before she had to go check into her hotel. She gave each of them a deep, wet kiss goodbye and promised to let them know the next time she’d be in town.

When they were finally alone, David thanked his love for the present. It was incredible, and exhausting, and he didn’t regret the experience. But it was definitely not something he wanted to do regularly. She told him that was good, because she didn’t want to become a swinger. It was just fun to mix it up once in a while with someone who was safe and clean and familiar.

***

David’s publicist Nadine called him a few times during the month of January, to answer questions she’d taken from the press about what he thought he chances were to be nominated. But other than that, he didn’t think about it much. He didn’t have a very high opinion of his art, so he naturally assumed that plenty of other screenwriters would be getting the nod, and they wouldn’t need to scrape the bottle and name him, too.

One of the press inquiries was from none other than the annoying fashion commentator Jane Waters, who wanted to remind David of his promise to wear a gown at the ceremony if he was nominated. Nadine wanted to know what kind of answer to give her. David said that he would wait until after the nominations, and then plan his outfit accordingly. He hoped that answer would be boring enough that she’d leave him alone.

She didn’t. It seemed like she was aiming for some kind of controversy that would drive ratings up for her little bits on the entertainment news hour, because she kept bringing up how David was refusing to own up to her calling him out as just another Hollywood phony with no integrity. That she was able to call someone fake without any sense of irony was amazing chutzpah, but it was annoying David to no end.

Finally he got so tired of it that he had Nadine issue a statement. He bounced a couple ideas off of Claude, and this is what they came up with: “Out of respect for the other contenders, I would have preferred not to make a comment based on the assumption that I will be nominated. But I will assure you that should I be chosen, I will live up to my word and attend the ceremony in a gown. I do not wish to disrespect the Academy or make a mockery of the proceedings; if I do have to appear in a dress, I will do my best not to look like a joke.”

That did get her to shut up about it, but it forced him to make an even stronger commitment to potentially looking like a fool on national television. Claude tried to show David some sketches for possible gown styles, but he didn’t want to have to deal with it until after the nominations came out. He’d rather not worry about something that was only a possibility.

The last week in January, the Academy held its press conference to announce the nominations. David and Maritza were glued to the television to watch. One of the supporting actresses from Condensation was nominated, which seemed to be a good sign, but none of the rest of the cast was picked for a supporting actor or lead actress or actor nomination. But then the director was named, and things were looking up.

It felt like the listing of the names for Best Original Screenplay took forever, and then at last the Best Adapted Screenplay nominees were given. Three other screenwriters were named, and the odds weren’t looking good. But then they read David’s name as the fourth of the five writers chosen. Maritza threw her arms around him and gave him a deep, wet kiss in celebration that had the suggestion of shifting into full-on foreplay, but then the phone rang with more kudos from Nadine and he stepped into the kitchen to take the call.

She congratulated him on the nomination, and pointed out that it meant the publisher would be holding his next book back even more, in the hope that they could put “From the Oscar-winning writer of Condensation” on the back. It was a mixed blessing, but she was very excited. She asked him if he needed her to look for a way to get out of the promise to wear a gown. He had nearly completely put that out of his mind, so he had to take a moment. But he told her that he’d go through with it somehow, to show that he lived up to his word.

He heard Maritza cheering in the next room, and she said that his movie had been nominated for best picture, too. So he had to hang up and make some calls of his own to congratulate the director and producers. It made him a little uncomfortable talking about how great his screenplay was; he just didn’t have the right kind of ego for Hollywood. He got his obligations out of the way and was ready to relax, but then Claude called.

He started by congratulating David, but then quickly changed the topic to talking about the gown that he’d be wearing to the ceremony. He asked if David had any ideas about the kind of style he wanted, and threw out a lot of technical fashion terms that David just didn’t understand. He needed pictures. Claude said he’d throw some things together and then come by David’s townhouse after lunch.

David started to get suspicious when Claude showed up with an easel and a portfolio full of design boards to present his “thrown together” pictures. Clearly, he’d been working on this project for some time. His first board was a collage of magazine photos of actresses in gowns that had been chosen for previous Oscars’ Best Dressed lists. David looked it over and saw a lot of beautiful women. He couldn’t say what made them better dressed than others.

He did notice a couple things all the gowns seemed to have in common. “All those long skirts spill onto the ground. How do they walk in them without tripping?”

Maritza was looking over his shoulder at the pictures. “It’s not too hard; you just need to practice. There’s a technique to it. You’re going to have to learn to walk in heels anyway, so it’s not much more difficult.”

“Heels?”

This time Claude answered. “You’ve said you didn’t want to look foolish. The only way to avoid that is to properly accessorize your gown, and that means heels.”

Maritza smiled. “Besides, they’ll make your nice smooth legs look so much sexier!” She licked her lips.

David shook his head. “This is getting more complicated that I imagined.”

Claude flipped to the next board. “I figured we’d really stick it to that cow by putting you in the same color as last year, so here are some swatches of different fabrics in that color, to show how their different textures react to the light.” David nodded, so he continued to the next board. “And here are some sketches of different gowns that I’ve thought might work on your frame, to minimize your shortcomings.”

David looked at the sketches. “It looks like you’ve drawn them being worn by a woman. How would they hang differently on me?”

“Oh no, that’s how they’d look on you. With the right foundation you can look like that — pad you out here, squeeze you in there, strap you down over there. You should be able to look passably female.”

“But why? Can’t I just look like me in a gown?”

“You said that you didn’t want to look like a joke. A man in a dress is a joke. A feminine person that wears her gown with style and grace as a vision of beauty is no joke.”

Maritza gave him a squeeze on the shoulder. “And you could look very beautiful if you tried. I can’t wait to see you in your gown. You are already so soft and feminine in many ways; he’s only suggesting that you go a little further than you already have.”

David tensed up. “It kind of feels like you two are ganging up on me.” He got an uncomfortable thought that went straight to the pit of his stomach. He looked at Maritza. “Have you been in cahoots the whole time? Have all your encouragements to change my appearance been just to fit his plans to get me to accept wearing a dress for Oscar night? You’ve got me with long hair and smooth skin, and convinced me to wear earrings and nail polish — was this all part of some scheme to make me all feminine, like when you put my in panties?” He turned to Claude. “Are you trying to make me gay or something? Did you set this up with her from the beginning?”

Maritza came around to face him. “You look so frightened. I am so sorry if I scared you. I love you, and I have never done anything that I thought would hurt you. I do not know what a cahoot is, but I have talked to him about you, and kept some things secret.” She held her arms open and he fell into her embrace, sobbing softly. “He told me he was going to take you for a full laser hair removal, when all I asked you for was a chest wax, but I thought it would make you sexier so I didn’t tell you. And I do think that it made you very hot. You know I like to be with girls sometimes, and I’m not trying to change you into a girl for me. You are already a very feminine person, so sweet and caring and nurturing inside, that makes me love you more than if you tried to pretend to be a rough, macho man. You are a man with a lot of woman in him, and I don’t want you to get rid of all the man (some day I plan on having your babies), but there are fun things about being a woman that I think you could enjoy, too. It’s an awesome feeling when you can put on that perfect dress and killer shoes and get your hair done up all fancy, with flawless makeup and all the right bits of jewelry and accessories, and you go out there and knock them dead. I would love for you to get a chance to feel like that, and your promise to wear an evening gown to the awards is the perfect opportunity.” She kissed him and wiped his tears. “But if you don’t want to, I understand. We can say you were only joking, or we could stay home that night and let someone else pick up your award for you. Because you are definitely going to win!”

Claude took advantage of her coming up for air and David’s shock about the mention of babies to get his words in edgewise. “Okay, I’ll admit it. I’ve been working on this ever since last year. But every time I broached the subject you didn’t want to talk about it, so I just stopped talking about it and went ahead and made plans without your input. And yes, those plans involved getting the cooperation of other people, but I wouldn’t call it ‘cahoots’ as much as a mini-conspiracy. Or maybe a cabal would be better. That’s it: The David Fine Oscar Gown Cabal, or DFOGC. Anyway, you know me, and when I do something I like to give it my all. I was just as insulted as you were last year, so I want to put together a design that will stun that hag speechless. Does that make sense?”

David nodded and made a grunt of agreement, while still clinging to his girlfriend. He was still in a fragile state; Claude needed to tread lightly. “If you take a beautiful masterpiece of a painting and put it in the wrong frame, it can look horrible. It’s the same thing with fashion. If I’m trying to create the perfect gown to knock Jane Waters’ socks off, I need to make sure it’s being properly displayed. And since you are the frame for this particular masterpiece, I have been nudging you in a direction that would help you become a better frame for my painting, and away from anything that would hinder that. Like when you were trying to get in shape and I didn’t agree when you wanted to lift weights; I didn’t think added muscle mass would look good in a gown. But I truly do love you as a friend and I’ve never suggested anything that I didn’t think was in your best interests. I knew your girlfriend had lesbian leanings, so they wouldn’t likely be any problem if I helped you to a more feminine look.”

“So you are trying to make me gay so you can have your way with me or something?” David blushed as he realized how ridiculous the question sounded.

Claude took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I am a homosexual man, which means I am attracted to men. You’ve seen my boyfriends. I like them big and buff and masculine. If I were interested in you, the last thing I would do would be to try to bring out your femininity. Now I’m sure you know there’s a segment of the gay community that’s into drag, but I’ve never really seen the attraction. I’ll admit I tried it briefly in my early twenties, but that’s sort of a requirement when you’re a swishy gay boy into fashion and trying to find yourself. Do you get that you can be feminine without being gay, and gay without being feminine?”

“I guess so.”

“Alright, then. So tell me how far you want to take this? Do you want Jane Waters to ask herself ‘who is that gorgeous creature coming down the red carpet?’ only to be forced to eat her own words?”

“Do you really think I could be gorgeous? I’ve seen some of those guys in dresses, and they look hideous.”

Claude reached somewhere in the back of his stack of boards, and pulled out one that was a collection of images of beautiful models. “You could probably look something like this if you worked at it.”

“No way! Those women are naturally attractive. I could not possibly compete with that.”

“Well, all these so-called women are men, or at least were once. These over here are women now, with the surgery and everything.” He pointed at a sexy Asian in a bikini. “Her wedding was a major media event in Korea. These over on this side only dress as women professionally as entertainment, but live as men offstage. This one’s married with three kids.” He pointed at a blonde in a cocktail dress.

David looked at the pictures and still couldn’t believe it. “Those are guys? Really? But I still don’t think I’d look that good.”

“If you could look that good, would you be willing to do it?”

“I guess, if I’m committed to wearing a gown to the ceremony, I’d rather look pretty that look silly.”

“Well then it’s a good thing for you I have my cabal. Whatever those initials were that I gave, I put together a group of people from a variety of disciplines. They took a couple pictures that I cahooted Ritz to sneak of you, and applied their skills to it on the computer, and came up with this.” He pulled another board out of his case that was twice as big. It had a large photo of a sexy brunette in a glamorous red dress. “What do you think?”

David thought it must have taken a lot of editing to get there. The woman in the picture seemed familiar, like she could have been a distant relative, but he didn’t think it looked like him very much. “Wow. They sure did a lot of editing to get that. I can’t imagine there’s anything left of the original if it was a picture of me.”

Maritza’s eyes were wide. “Ooh, you’ve got to let them make you look like that. You are so beautiful! Those are definitely your eyes; I’d know them anywhere. And you can tell those are your hands by the little bump on her finger that you’ve got from writing by hand. Why did I never notice your hands were so delicate? And the shoes might not be yours, but under the shiny polish those are your toes. I like the way the middle ones bend.”

“You think so? I’m just not seeing it.”

Claude was prepared for that, and pulled out a board with a smaller version of the lady in the red dress, next to a picture of David standing in the same pose in shorts, sandals and a tank top. Looking at them side by side, he could see the similarities. It’s quite possible the woman on the right was only a few slight differences apart from makeup and wardrobe.

However, some differences were more noticeable than others. “Just like a lot of those previous ‘best dressed’ actresses, the woman in this picture is showing a good amount of cleavage. Now if that’s supposed to be me, I don’t really see how.”

“We told you before that accessories were the key to any outfit? The gown designs that would have the biggest impact would be best accessorized with silicone.”

David fell back into his chair as the lights went out.

Oscar Night by Jennifer Brock Last time, novelist/screenwriter David Fine and his girlfriend model Maritza Delgado attended a New Year's Eve party thrown by his friend fashion designer Claude Marsh, and later learned that Claude had organized a "cabal" of experts to help him get David into a gown at the Oscar ceremony. (A flippant comment to a fashion reporter at the previous year's event made him promise to wear one.) Claude was in the middle of showing him design ideas and had just said that David would need to accessorize with silicone before he passed out.

Part 10
When David regained consciousness, he was lying on the floor, his head cradled in Maritza’s lap. Claude was crouching a few feet away, fanning him with one of his design boards. He looked up into the concerned face of his girlfriend. “Sorry.”

“You’re okay. You had too many panics in a row and you fainted. You don’t need to feel sorry. We still love you anyway.” She gave him a little kiss on the forehead.

Claude brought David a glass of water. “I can go now, if you want me to, and we can continue this discussion later, or even never. If my ideas are going to stress you this much, it’s not worth it. I don’t want soothing my insulted ego to cost you your health.”

“No, we don’t have to stop. Just give me a minute to catch my breath and we can get back to what we were talking about. I just don’t deal well with too many surprises in a row. I’m supposed to take my anxiety medicine when I feel panic coming on, but I don’t like the way it saps my energy. I’ve been doing okay using meditation, but I’m not good enough to prevent sudden surprises.”

Claude was very concerned, because this was the first he’d heard of it. Maritza had dealt with David’s panic attacks, and while they still scared her she knew how to handle the situation. She helped him back on his feet and into his chair, then pulled her own chair closer to his, just in case.

David thought back to what triggered his fall. “So, you were about to try to talk me into getting implants?”

Claude got his presentation back in order. “Well, implants are one option, but really I was going to address the general issue of breast enhancement.” He flipped to his board that showed photos of beautiful women he said were actually male, or had been born male. He pointed to some of them on the left side. “This one, and this one, and I think this one mostly got their breasts through hormones. You probably don’t want to do that, and there isn’t time anyway. This one, this one, and I think all of these have implants, and probably some hormones, too.

“Now these over here take their breasts off at night when they turn back into men and go home. This one’s breasts are pure padding. You can tell because she isn’t trying to show any cleavage, and the way her dress is hanging, there doesn’t seem to be any weight to them. I don’t think we want to try that option. This one isn’t showing much flesh either, but her gown is draping better. She probably uses state-of-the-art silicone prosthetics that might be glued on, or might just be stuck in her bra. We could try something like that for you, but as you noticed, the Best Dressed actresses are usually sporting dramatic necklines.

“This one’s showing just a hint of cleavage, and it looks genuine. I think she’s using lingerie technology, like an ultimate push-up bra, to squeeze her fleshy man-chest into an approximation of the top of breasts, and then using a prosthetic to fill her cups. I think we might have done you a disservice. If you hadn’t lost that weight, you’d still have a doughy little set of moobs that could probably be contorted into a decent looking décolletage. But you lost the fat and we didn’t encourage you to bulk up, so you don’t even have a set of pecs we could squash. That option probably won’t work.

“Now this one over here appears to be showing a lot of breast, but it isn’t bare skin. The top of her dress is actually sheer material and you think you’re peeking at bare flesh beneath. I think she’s wearing a bigger appliance, that’s a full bust in latex or silicone, like you’d get from a special effects makeup artist. Now the problem with something like that would be if we tried to pretend it was bare skin, it might not photograph properly.

“Actual human skin has a degree of translucency to it that the fake stuff doesn’t duplicate exactly. In movies or stage performances, or even posed portraits like this one, they have full control over the lighting and can make sure it isn’t noticeable as artificial. When you’re walking down the red carpet, there will be swarms of paparazzi pointing flashbulbs of varying wattages at you from all different angles, and it’s highly likely someone would get an unflattering shot that would show how plastic your chest looked. Photographers are always getting pictures of starlets in dresses they thought were opaque, but became completely see-through under the right flash conditions.

“So as I see it, there’s two ways we can go. The first option would be I make a gown with a full-coverage bodice, and you go with falsies in your bra. The second option would be to do something like this gown, with a gauzy top over latex cleavage. Which of these sounds like something you’d want to try?”

Maritza was confused. “I thought you said implants were an option?”

“Well, they scared him so much he hyperventilated; I figured they were off the table.” He looked at David. “Are they still on the table? Would you seriously consider surgical alteration in order to prepare for a one-night event?”

David looked up at the ceiling. “Probably not, but...”

Maritza cooed in his ear, “But you’re wondering what it would be like if you did have your own breasts? So am I. I think you’d look really sexy.” She started fondling his left nipple through his silk shirt. “Remember when I went away and made you wear my undies?”

He nodded, and made a sound that might have been trying to be a word.

“Remember the time I told you to put on the top that matched your bottoms? Did you imagine how it would have felt if you had been able to fill it out?”

He had to admit he had, so he nodded again. He still hadn’t told her about the nightgown he’d borrowed and worn on Christmas. The idea of being able to wear something like that again but fit into it properly teased the back of his brain.

She didn’t want to force him into giving the answer she wanted to hear, so she tried a different approach. “Okay, now I want you to close your eyes.” He did. “Imagine that it’s the night of the big awards show and you’re all dressed up in your pretty gown, and your hair is perfect, and your makeup is flawless, and you are a vision of beauty. You walk down the red carpet in your high heels dazzling the press with your glamour, and showing whatshername that you can look like a gorgeous woman.”

She gave him a moment to think about that image before continuing. “Now after the show is over, I take you home. We share a glass of wine and a kiss, and I love the feel of your lipstick on mine. I unzip your gown and let it fall to the floor. You’re standing there in your sexy lingerie, your legs shining in silk stockings, your favorite lacy panties holding you in tight. I unhook your bra and you watch it slide off your arms and fall to the floor.” She took another dramatic pause. “Can you see it fall?”

“Yes.” Her soothing voice was almost hypnotic. He could see that moment very clearly.

“Now, when you saw it fall, were the cups filled with padding or false breasts, or was it just a thin wisp of fabric?”

“It was just silk and lace.”

“So if I bring my arms around to the front of your body, I would find your breasts?”

It took him a while to answer, and when he did it was a whispered “yes.”

“Am I touching a piece of rubber that’s been glued to your chest, or am I touching your actual skin, your flesh, your breast?”

Still softly, but with determination he answered, “You’re touching my breasts.” Wow. Not what he would have expected.

“Open your eyes.” He blinked a couple of times and then she kissed him. “There’s your answer.”

“How did you do that?”

“It’s a visualization technique one of the older models taught me for making decisions. You imagine the decision as already made and then bring it into focus so you know what your subconscious thingy truly wants.”

“So it seems like I’m curious enough to try.” He turned to Claude. “Do you know any doctors that I could talk to about the risk involved, and how long would I have to keep them before taking them out, and things like that?”

“Actually, one of the members of my cabal is a cosmetic surgeon. We were going to have him talk to you about getting some facial work done, but he can tell you about implants, too. Want me to call him?”

“Wait a minute — what facial work?”

“It’s nothing major, just a little softening here and there. He can explain it better that I can.” He pulled out his cell and made a call. “Good morning, this is Claude Marsh. Is there any room on Dr. Coleman’s schedule for a consult this afternoon? The patient’s name would be David Fine.” He put his hand over his phone and looked over at David. “Are you doing anything at three-twenty?”

“No, we’re free. You’re coming too, right?” He looked at Maritza and she nodded.

Claude uncovered his phone. “Thanks, that would be great! You have a nice day, too.” He hung up and put it back in his pocket. “It’s all set. Don’t be too nervous. We haven’t committed to any actual procedures yet. This is just a preliminary consultation.”

David still wasn’t sure. “Is it weird for a guy to wonder what it would be like to have breasts?”

“No, it’s not weird to wonder. It is weird to go through a surgical procedure to find out, but just because something is weird doesn’t mean you shouldn’t do it.”

Maritza gave him a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder. “I think it’s an exciting idea, and if it means you’re weird, then I love weird!”

He felt better knowing that she thought it was just as intriguing an idea as he did. It would have almost been easier if she had just told him to do it instead of having to make his own decision, but at least he could rationalize it to himself that he was at least partially doing this for her.

For the rest of the afternoon, Claude showed them more specific gown designs. More correctly, he showed them to Maritza and David occasionally nodded in agreement with someone. Despite it being the business of the two people closest to him, fashion was still a world where he didn’t speak the language, and was totally lost. The other two would occasionally share a giggle about something, and it was tough trying not to imagine that they were laughing at him.

When three o’clock rolled around, Claude drove them to a fancy medical building in Beverly Hills. David wasn’t sure he could afford anyone who worked in a place that looked that expensive, and Claude told him not to worry; he’d cover the costs of whatever procedures David decided to get done; it would come out of his promotions budget, since David’s appearance at the awards would surely attract a lot of press attention, and any photos they took would be showing him in a Claude Marsh original.

The place was so upscale, there was a cute girl manning a desk in the lobby ready to answer questions, instead of just a sign listing everyone’s office number. Claude told her they were going to see Dr. Coleman up on the third floor, but thanked her for offering assistance. He must have used this doctor often, because he led them straight to the elevator.

Up on the third floor, there was another cute girl behind a desk. Claude told her they were Dr. Coleman’s three-twenty. She buzzed an intercom and talked to someone, and in a minute or so, a nurse in uniform showed up to take them to the doctor’s office.

It came as a surprise that Dr. Coleman was a familiar face. It was Ben, whom Maritza and David had met at Claude’s New Year’s party. They exchanged pleasantries, and David made sure to ask after his wife Evelyn, since she was a fan.

Rather than making him feel comfortable, having a doctor who wasn’t a complete stranger made David feel self-conscious. His first impulse was to run away, but with Claude and Maritza there he couldn’t do that. He felt a little trapped. He took a deep breath to center himself and began, “I’d like to know if I could get breast implants in time for the Academy Awards presentation.”

Dr. Ben answered, “I can answer your questions, but first I need to know that you’re not thinking of just getting your breasts done for the ceremony and then getting the implants taken out right away afterwards. It would be unethical for me to perform such a procedure. You are planning on keeping them for a considerable period of time, right?”

David could tell that he was being pushed to answer a certain way. He thought quickly and said, “Well, it was the awards that gave me the idea, but the more I thought about it, I realized that it could be good for my writing to spend some time having a feminine life, to be able to get more in touch with my female characters. Maybe I could even write a non-fiction book about my experiences; something like My Year as a Woman. If I commit to at least a year, would that keep you from crossing any ethical lines?”

“A year is reasonable. And that book sounds interesting. Reserve a first edition for Evelyn.”

“Of course, I could get them out early if there are medical complications, right?”

“Certainly. But implants are a lot safer these days than some of those horror shows from the past you may be remembering. Now, if you would please take off your top and come sit on this stool, I can see what we’ve got to work with.”

David unbuttoned his shirt and handed it to Maritza, then went to where the doctor had indicated. He gave David’s chest a good squeeze in a couple of places, and took a caliper and pinched him all around the area, and then brought out a measuring tape and measured around the top of his chest, the bottom and right at the nipple. He made a bunch of notes on his clipboard, and then posed David so he was sitting straight up with his arms at his sides and his chin up. He told him to hold still and look at a little blue light on the wall, and then a couple of different flashbulbs went off and something whirred.

David could get off the stool and go back to sit with the others and put his shirt on. Dr. Ben was behind his desk at a computer, and he swung a second screen around so they could see. It showed a photo of David from the front, and in profile. He had a little bit of definition in his chest, but not much.

The doctor said that his frame measurement was 38, and his current bra size would be 38AAA. His recent weight loss had left him with considerable elasticity in his skin, so there was room to go big. He did something on his side of the computer, and suddenly the picture of David had chubby little man-boobs. Ben said those would be a 38A; on a larger frame like his, an A was just too small.

He clicked around some more and then David’s breasts were bigger, a 38B. These actually looked female, but small. They were still kind of far apart and didn’t look like they’d make decent cleavage.

The 38C breasts looked like a good fit, with some potential cleavage. He kicked it up to a 38D and the cleavage was amazing, but they seemed a little too big. Ben tweaked it a little and they shrank, but not all the way to a C. He said this size would fit a C or a D bra, depending on the brand and style. A full-coverage bra would probably be more comfortable in a 38D, but they would be incredibly sexy in a 38C push-up.

Ideally, fresh implants shouldn’t be wearing any complicated bras for the first three months, but if they got them in as soon as possible, he could have almost a month before the big show, so he could get a reprieve for that one night.

Dr. Ben then went over the pros and cons of the different types of implants, and handed them samples they could touch to feel the difference. Claude was a little weirded out by the idea of touching a breast and passed, but Maritza even gave herself a squeeze to see which one felt the most real, and even let David try. They settled on a silicone implant, because the saline one felt too much like a water balloon. Saline was safer, but the newer silicone implants did not have the problems the older ones did. And if he was only looking at a year, it shouldn’t be enough time for anything to go wrong.

Ben then said that if David was really serious about wanting to look female, there were a few other procedures he’d recommend. He pointed out that the image on the screen didn’t really look like a woman; it looked like a man with breasts. He changed it so that it zoomed in and only showed from the shoulders up. The breasts were gone, and it was clearly David again.

He pointed out that if he showed a lot of cleavage, the eye would be drawn naturally up the throat, and there it would find a rather unfeminine Adam’s apple, and the illusion would be shattered. He recommended doing a “tracheal shave,” that would reduce the cartilage so his larynx wouldn’t stick out so much. He twiddled with his computer and David’s Adam’s apple disappeared.

He did warn David that there was a chance that if something went wrong he could lose his voice, but if done properly it wouldn’t have any impact on the pitch or tone of his vocal cords — he’d still need to train his voice if he wanted to sound like a woman. There were procedures for altering pitch, but Ben didn’t do them, or recommend them. They generally involved deliberately paralyzing part of the vocal cords.

The next masculine trait he pointed out in the picture was the squareness of David’s chin. He said there was a small procedure he could do to change the contour of the tip that would make all the difference. He made the computer give him a more pointed chin that didn’t stick out so far. Ben said the risks in this procedure were relatively minor, the same general risks that come with any surgery, and any time a general anesthesia is used.

The third change he wanted to make was on the forehead. He had David run his hand down his forehead to his eyebrows, and then do it again on Maritza. Men have a bone behind their eyebrows that push them forward. Ben wanted to reduce this bone on David. It didn’t seem to be a very dramatic change in the picture.

The final procedure he recommended was to raise the tip of his nose slightly and bring it back a bit. Nose jobs were so common in LA, he’d seem out of place without one, if he left his larger masculine nose intact. The computer changed the image’s nose, and even with all those differences, it still looked like David. If you didn’t know what changed, you’d never guess.

But then Ben zoomed the picture out so the breasts were there again, and this time the image was not a man with breasts, but a woman who needed help with her hair and makeup. He changed the screen so it showed the “breasts only” picture on the left and the “breasts and face” picture on the right, and there was clearly a difference.

They discussed the pros and cons for a little while, but in the end David turned to Ben and said, “Let’s do it. The whole thing. What do I have to do next?” It was kind of a crazy decision, but it felt like the right one. Maritza squeezed his hand.

The nurse came and took a blood sample, and then he had to fill out a form, and sign off that he was agreeing to all these operations. Ben called the hospital and found out that he could get an operating room as early as the next day. Would David need more time to think it over? He shook his head and bit the bullet.

Oscar Night by Jennifer Brock Novelist/screenwriter David Fine got himself in an awkward position where he agreed to wear a gown if he was nominated for an Oscar. The nominations came out and he's stuck. But his friend Claude Marsh the fashion designer assembled a "cabal" of experts to help make David more feminine. Last time, they met with a cosmetic surgeon who convinced David that if he really wanted to look like a woman, he'd need to make a few changes to his face. David was also interested in seeing what he'd look like with breast implants, something his girlfriend bisexual model Maritza Delgado seemed very enthusisastic about. In this installment, David experiences his nonsurgical options, and one of the cabal members has some bad news for Maritza.

Part 11
Before they drove away from the medical office, Claude pulled out his phone and made a couple calls, he was talking in code or jargon, and David didn’t quite understand what he was saying. It took David and Maritza a while to notice that Claude was driving into the city instead of taking them back home. They were engrossed in looking at the printout Dr. Ben had given David of what he’d look like after facial feminization surgery and breast implants. Granted the boobs were big and obvious, but it was the way that a few little tweaks to his face completely made him believably female that amazed David the most. He stared at the picture that showed just his head from the front and side, both before and after the procedures, while Maritza drooled over the full torso picture and covered the nipples with her thumbs to make it sexier.

They pulled up at a little industrial plaza, and Claude led them around to “Tom & Jeffy’s.” It was the beauty parlor owned by Jeffrey and Tomas, who David had met at Claude’s New Year’s party. David was starting to suspect that everyone at that party was a member of Claude’s little “Cabal.” Claude confirmed it, because there wasn’t much point in hiding.

Plus, half of them were there already. They opened the door and saw not just Jeffrey and Tomas, but also Vanessa and Kay. Claude told David that he thought that his decision to undergo surgical modification might have been a little hasty; he had a picture of what kind of woman he could look like through surgery, but hadn’t seen how convincingly female he could get without any.

If David was willing, the team that had been assembled would work their transformation magic and show him what was possible. He agreed to try; if he was planning on walking the Red Carpet in an evening gown, it wouldn’t make sense to get embarrassed to have six people see him dressed as a woman.

Fortunately, the most embarrassing part got out of the way right at the start. Claude and Maritza were told to wait in the front of the place, while Kay brought him to a back corner and had him strip naked. She explained that she was a professional “Feminine Deportment Coach.” Her job was teaching men how to be women, and Claude had hired her for the month to teach David how to walk and talk and present himself in a believably female manner, but she was there this evening because of her expertise with transvestite foundation garments.

Kay had a very commanding presence, like a wicked stepmother or a Catholic school nun, or maybe a slightly matronly army sergeant or theatrical director. At any rate, David felt that he did not want to disobey her. So when she told him to remove all his clothes, he did. She had him sit at the edge of an uncomfortable stool and he tried to cover himself, but she snapped on a pair of rubber gloves and made him spread his knees.

She sprayed his genitals with some kind of cold anaesthetic in an aerosol can, and before he had time to react, she’d shoved his testicles into his body somehow and pushed his penis back between his legs. Holding it in place with one hand, she pulled a pair of special thong panties up his legs with the other and then had him stand up while she got everything tucked away. The panty held it all in and made him as flat as a woman down there.

He felt a little less embarrassed, but still very exposed. Next, she fastened a corset around his waist. It wasn’t as long as some that he’d seen in period dramas; it came down to his hips, but only went up as far as his two lowest pairs of ribs or so. His chest was left bare. She had him turn around and lean on the stool while she tightened the laces, and at one point he had to exhale while she had her knee in his back. He got lightheaded, and she had to show him how to take shallow breaths without hyperventilating.

She pulled his gaff (what the special panty was called) down and readjusted it so it was sitting on top of the corset. She said that would make it easier in case he needed to use the bathroom, but it seemed like she pulled it up to give him a tighter penis-wedgie in the process.

She brought out a measuring tape and took his new waist, him and chest measurements, and then went into her trunk of supplies and came back with another undergarment for him to wear. It was like one of his grandmother’s panty girdles that had a high waist and snaps in the crotch and legs that went halfway down the thighs, except that this one also had foam rubber padding sewn into it to fill out male hips and buttocks to female proportions. It was very elastic and tricky to put on, especially since he couldn’t move his waist. He wasn’t sure he’d have been able to get into it if Kay hadn’t been there to help him.

She then asked him if he’d decided how big he wanted his breasts to be. He told her that the doctor had recommended somewhere between 38C and 38D. She nodded, and seemed to get a little bit of a smile, and then brought him a bra to try on. He put his arms through and she hooked it on and then adjusted the straps so that it was tight on his shoulders, and then she took it off him.

There were special pockets in the bra cups, and she brought out a pair of huge fake breasts to fill them. She handed him one to see what they were like, at it was softer and heavier than he expected. It was a teardrop-shaped blob of silicone, in a plastic sheath colored to look like a real breast. It even had a dark areola circle with a little nipple sticking out in the middle. It was really weird. She slipped the breasts into the cups and helped him back into his bra. It felt a lot heavier this time. The cups were sheer and his “breasts” were very visible inside them; if he looked down they seemed shockingly realistic.

Kay waved, and Vanessa came over and took David’s new measurements, with his larger bust and hips and smaller waist. Then she wrapped him in a pink satiny kimono-style robe, and slipped a pair of pink flip-flop sandals onto his feet. Kay then called out, “Okay, she’s ready!”

Everyone came over to see. Claude and Maritza were impressed with his new figure. She gave him a swat on his padded butt, and even squeezed his left breast form. He playfully opened his robe and flashed her. Her eyes widened and she licked her lips at the sight of his pretend boobs. She was more into the idea of turning him into a woman than he’d realized.

Jeffrey and Tomas were ready to take him for his first beauty treatment. Claude cautioned them to only do a little work on his eyebrows, because they’d be changing position if he went ahead with the surgery. Claude went to help Vanessa pick out what David would be wearing. Maritza gave Kay a hand packing up her gear, and then they went to sit in the waiting area.

Tomas told David they would be starting with his hair, first changing the color a little to give it more depth and character. They wouldn’t be radically different, just a change from walnut brown to chestnut brown, and bringing out some auburn highlights. He said it would work better with the red dress David would ultimately be wearing.

He’d never had his hair dyed before, but it didn’t feel all that different from having it shampooed, which he had done many times. It just smelled a lot worse than shampoo, and had to stay in his hair longer. He hoped the harsh chemicals wouldn’t damage his hair, because he knew how much Maritza liked to run her fingers through it. He just had to trust that Tomas was a professional who had done this hundreds of times before, and knew what he was doing.

In order to distract him from what Tomas was doing, Jeffrey took off David’s sandals and gave him a pedicure. Ironically, this was the first pedicure he got where he didn’t feel like a big sissy for enjoying getting his feet exfoliated and moisturized and his toenails cleaned and trimmed and buffed. Jeffrey went to check with Vanessa and Claude, and they came back with him to pick what color toenail polish to use. They settled on a deep burgundy that Jeffrey said would go well with his hair.

The first color was rinsed out, and then some sections were separated out for highlighting, and got a different foul chemical put on them, and were wrapped in foil. Jeffrey put David’s painted toes in these boxes with fans in them to make the polish dry faster, and then started working on his hands. First, he cleaned off David’s French manicure, and then massaged his hands with moisturizer. It was very relaxing.

After the second set of highlights got rinsed out, David’s nose was assaulted from two sides, as Tomas was putting setting lotion in his hair and Jeffrey was using liquid acrylic to extend his fingernails. By the time he had fashionable claws on both hands and his head was covered in curling rods, his nose had just completely shut off and he couldn’t smell anything.

When the acrylic had completely hardened, Jeffrey did a little filing and cleanup before painting his fingers to match his toes with two coats of color and then a shiny shiny topcoat. Meanwhile, Tomas rinsed the stuff out of his hair and conditioned it, and then put him under a big helmet-like hairdryer. So that his ears wouldn’t be filled with the sound of the dryer, they slipped a pair of earbuds in so he could listed to some funky dance music.

Finally, his hair came out of the dryer, and it seemed to have tripled in volume. Huge waves of red-brown hair cascaded across his shoulders and down his back. They said it wasn’t finished yet, but called the others over to look.

David shook out his wild mane and posed his hands as “kitty claws” to show off his new nails. Maritza said he wasn’t quite ready to take up modeling full time.

Claude complemented Jeffrey and Tomas on their color choice. He said it would work well for the project.

David asked if he could use the restroom, and Jeffrey slipped his flip-flops back on, and pointed out the door to the facility. A few moments later, David’s head peeked out and he called for help. He couldn’t get his underwear off with his new fingers. Kay grabbed a new pair of rubber gloves and her spray can, and went to give him a hand. She showed him that even though it had a snap in the crotch, he had to pull his girdle all the way down to his knees to be able to get his gaff down. She did tell him he was a “good girl” for knowing to sit, and reminded him to wipe afterwards. When he was done, she crammed his bits back in place and pulled up his girdle for him. She said that by the end of the month he’d be able to do that easily all by himself.

She pointed out that he was fluffing his hair in the mirror before leaving the restroom, just like a natural female. He wasn’t sure where that gesture had come from.

Kay brought him out to Vanessa, who said it was time for him to get dressed. First, he had to sit in a chair and roll a pair of shiny black stockings up his legs. Vanessa wanted to do it for him, but Kay stopped her, saying “She needs to learn how to do this, and there’s no better time to start.” Putting on a stocking was kind of like unrolling a giant condom, except you had to keep it tight. And his extra-long fingernails wanted to tear it, so he had to treat it as delicately as a soap bubble. He got several runs in the first one he tried, and Kay made him take it off and put it on repeatedly until he could get it right, and then he had to take it off and swap it for a fresh one, which went on without getting a single snag or ladder. Vanessa attached garters to his girdle and snapped them onto his stockings.

A pair of black pumps with two-inch heels went on his feet, and they had him try to stand. He wobbled a little, and Kay helped him with his posture and showed him the proper way a woman gets out of a chair, and had him do it again. Vanessa came over and removed his robe and had him raise his arms. She pulled a silky black slip down over his head, and adjusted the straps so his bra cups lined up with his slip cups.

His arms went up again and Vanessa gave him a dab of flowery deodorant under each arm, and he realized his nose was working again. Then she pulled a dress down over his head, had him lean forward so his hair wouldn’t be stuck inside it, and she zipped it up. The dress was a gauzy geometric print, with fluttery little sleeves along his shoulders. It had a sexy v-neck that didn’t plunge so far that you could see what wasn’t there, but came close enough to hint at imaginary cleavage. It clung tight to accentuate his narrowed waist, and then flared out at the hips into a full skirt that came to just below his knees.

He tried to strike a sexy pose, but had trouble balancing. Kay gave him a few tips on how to walk in heels. He had to imagine that he was tip-toeing on a tightrope. That kept him from falling over, but she said they still had a lot of work to do in that area. He did get back to Jeffrey and Tomas without tripping, but Kay made him sit down and get back up a few times until he got it right. A lot of behaving like a woman seemed to be concerned with managing a skirt.

Tomas covered David’s pretty new dress with a cape and ran his fingers through his new hair. He then gathered seemingly random locks of hair here and there, and started cutting. David was a little worried, and said that he wanted a long hair style when this was all over, and Tomas told him to trust him. A few more minutes of cutting later, Tomas swiveled the chair around and David got a look in the mirror. His hair was still long, but it looked sexy and feminine instead of just wild. Tomas said that for the Oscars they might give him bangs across the forehead, but for now it was parted on the side and swept at a diagonal.

Jeffrey pulled this stretchy plastic zig-zag ring over David’s head and then pulled his hair through it. Then he pushed it back off David’s forehead so that his hair was completely off his face. His pretty new style was ruined, but at least all the hair was off his face.

He started doing David’s makeup by first giving his face a good cleaning with something that felt like sandpaper, something that felt like alcohol, and then some kind of lotion. Then he took a pair of tweezers to David’s eyebrows, remembering that he wasn’t supposed to do much except for targeting stray hairs and evening them out. Then he gave him an even coat of liquid foundation dabbed on with little sponges, and then covered it with translucent powder.

He went after David’s eyes next, coming dangerously close with an eyeliner brush. He didn’t think false eyelashes were necessary, but he used three different kinds of mascara to style and bulk up and color his natural lashes. A little bit of combing and some pencil gave David’s eyebrows a more feminine shape. Jeffrey used a palette of smoky brown eye shadows with some extra glitter to highlight the edges. He used four different shades of blush to get the effect he wanted, and took extra time brushing color and then gloss onto his lips.

The headband came off and then Tomas spent a little time fiddling with David’s hairstyle before fixing it in place with a little spray. Tomas removed the cape, and Maritza gave him a dab of her perfume on each wrist and behind each ear and just a bit between his breasts. Vanessa swapped out his earrings for a pair of dangly chandeliers with burgundy crystals, and clipped a matching pendant around his neck. A few plain gold bangles went on one wrist, and he was done.

He stood up and looked in the mirror. That was definitely a woman looking back at him. She was styling and fashionable, and fairly attractive. Kay and Maritza got him into a pose and Jeffrey pulled out a camera and took a picture from a couple of different angles. He printed out a few of them on the printer in their business office.

Over a dinner of Chinese delivery where Kay kept correcting David’s manners, Claude attempted to talk David out of going through with the surgery. David had both sets of pictures on the table in front of him. After looking at the post-surgery mockup photo, the masculine traits in his face seemed much too noticeable in the picture of his current look. It was hard because the picture from the doctor looked female, but didn’t look all that attractive because she wasn’t wearing any makeup. The picture from the salon looked attractive from the makeup, but not completely female. He imagined that both with surgery and makeup, he could look female and pretty at the same time.

He was pretty sure he wanted to keep that appointment for the facial surgeries. That only left the breast question. The falsies he was wearing were made of silicone, and they were pretty heavy. He expected that implants would probably be around the same weight — did he want to be carrying that much around all the time?

He asked the assembled cabal members for opinions on implants. Vanessa said that implants would give him more flexibility in necklines. Jeffrey said that going with removable breast forms, he’d have more options, and they could always use makeup techniques to better simulate cleavage. Tomas said that if he was going to go under the knife for face stuff, he might as well get his boobs done at the same time; any LA plastic surgeon good enough to do facial work probably does dozens of boob jobs a week so the additional risk should be minimal. Kay said that if he got his breasts done, he wouldn’t be able to switch genders back and forth as easily as if he could take them off, so did he want to commit to being female 24/7? Claude agreed with her and said that that was a good point. When he’d told Dr. Ben that he wanted to write a book about being a woman for a year, was that real or just something he said to get him to approve the surgery?

Maritza had different priorities. She fondled his fake breast, and groped around for the nipple. She gave it a pinch. “When I touch this, you can’t feel it. But when I touch this,” she ran her finger across the nipple of the picture of how he’d look in implants. “You would feel it. I think these are better.”

So that was three votes in favor, one against, and two that would be for it if he was serious about going full-time. He had originally just mentioned the book idea as an excuse to get the surgery approved, but the more he thought about it, the more he liked it. He hadn’t done any serious nonfiction writing in a long time, and he’d been trained as a journalist. So because of that, and also since the only voter that really mattered said to do it, he decided that he’d definitely be going through with all the procedures he’d signed off on with Dr. Ben. He thanked everyone for their help in showing him how he’d look as a woman, and said he looked forward to continuing to work with them in the coming month.

Kay said that she wanted to get started on his lessons as soon as possible. Some of her students had needed longer to realize their womanhood than they had before the awards. She didn’t think David would need that long, since it didn’t seem like he had a macho male ego that had to be torn down first but more time is always better. Since Claude had paid her for the whole month, she’d begin his training as soon as he came home from the hospital after his surgeries.

She gave David a warning. “I promise that I never try to publicly shame or humiliate my clients, so I won’t push you for anything unless I think you’re ready for it. But along the way I may ask you to do things that you’re uncomfortable with. You get two refusals. During our entire time together, you’re allowed to only say ‘No, I will not do that’ to me twice. If you refuse to do a third task, I will remind you of this arrangement, and if you still fail to comply, our work together is finished. Do you understand?”

David could tell already that this was not going to be an easy month. He nodded, but it seemed like she was waiting for a verbal answer so he said “Yes, ma’am.”

Kay laughed. “You don’t need to call me that. I’m not some dominatrix getting off on ordering you around; I’m just your coach, here to guide down an unfamiliar path toward beauty, poise, and grace.” She turned to Maritza. “Are you prepared to make some sacrifices of your own?”

She shrugged. “Getting my man turned into a sexy little she-male isn’t really that much of a sacrifice to me.”

“That’s not what I was referring to. It will be easier for her to construct a feminine persona if she can think of herself as female all the time, day and night, 24/7.”

“Okay. So I get a fun new lesbian girlfriend to play with. Still doesn’t seem like a sacrifice.”

“Perhaps eventually when she has a concept of who she is, she’ll want to be your lesbian girlfriend, but the problem is that currently, the only context she knows you in is as your heterosexual boyfriend, a distinctly male role. In short, you’re a reminder that she has a penis. And we don’t want her thinking about that vestigial bit of flesh during her training, so I’d like you to move out of the house until the big show. I’ve discussed this with Mr. Marsh and he’s willing to put you up.”

“I don’t get to see him for a whole month? I can’t watch you turn him into a perfect lady?”

“I’m not a total monster. You can go home together tonight and enjoy one another’s company, and tomorrow you can be there in the recovery room when she comes out of surgery, but you don’t get to come home with her from the hospital. Give me your email address and I’ll copy you on the status updates I’ll be sending Mr. Marsh, but I don’t want you trying to contact her, no phone calls, no emails, nothing.”

“Why do you keep calling David ‘her’?”

“So she’ll get used to it. Besides, just look at her — do you see a male? Anyway, you’re stalling. Will you agree to stay away from her until the awards ceremony?”

Claude chimed in. “Please accept her requirements. If you don’t agree to move out, she won’t do it. I checked around and she’s the best at what she does; we need her for this. Anyway, it’s really only two more weeks than you were already going to be away for the Fashion Week job. And if it’s any consolation, I’m not allowed to contact David either. I’m sure we’ll have fun together. We can work out what you’ll be wearing to escort her to the Oscars.” He glared at Kay when he stressed the pronoun.

Maritza thought about it. She liked wearing Claude’s designs and didn’t want him to fire her, and they were going to be busy in New York anyway for Fashion Week, and the preparations before it. “Okay, I’ll move out after the hospital.”

Kay smiled. “Good. Now there’s something else I need from you. At least one of her training sessions will involve going on a date with a man, to learn how to act in one of the most common female social interactions. The date will probably be something typical like dinner and dancing or maybe a show, and could stop at that, or she may want to invite him in for a more complete experience. I’d like you to let her know now where you draw the line. I’ve had clients with wives who didn’t want them even going for a good night kiss, I’ve had some who made their dates stop at heavy petting, and I’ve had some clients who got permission to go as far as they wanted. So just make sure she knows where you’ve set the boundaries.”

David spoke up. “I don’t want to date some guy, and even if she makes me go out with one I’m sure I won’t want to invite him in. You have nothing to worry about. I would never cheat on you, and definitely not with a man.”

Maritza kissed his pretty cheek. “You’re supposed to be thinking like a woman, and at some point that might include realizing that sometimes it’s nice to touch a man. You have my permission to explore as far as you dare. The only part of your body I insist you keep away from other men is your heart. But keep all your body parts away from other women; I don’t want to share my new lesbian girlfriend. And don’t worry. I know you get a little jealous and insecure, but I’m not giving you permission to explore just so I can do the same. I’ve already done my exploring. I will not be sharing my bed while we are apart, and the only people who’ll see me naked will be in the dressing room while I’m working. I love you and only you.” She kissed his shiny red lips.

David was really confused and was worried about what to expect in the future. He was frightened to imagine what Kay’s lessons would be like, and hoped he could save one of his vetoes to get out of dating a man. But before that happened, he had some invasive surgery to be nervous about.

***

Claude drove them home, and all along the way Maritza played with David’s girlish body. She held his hand with its fashionable nails. She tickled his earlobe with her tongue and made his earring jingle like a wind chime. She ran her fingers through his pretty hair. She kissed him eagerly, invading his mouth with her tongue. Her hands pawed at his artificial curves. His body wanted to respond to her, but he was tightly trapped. He had to endure the pleasurable torture.

When they got home, David barely had time to grab the bag with his male clothes in it and wave goodbye to Claude before Maritza grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the car. She had the front door open before he finished wobbling up the front steps in his heels, and then she led him to the staircase inside, which was just as scary to climb.

Maritza wasted no time. She kicked off her shoes and shrugged off her dress and she was completely naked. This must have been a No Underwear Day. David himself was not so fortunate. He couldn’t even begin to figure out how to get out of his clothes. He managed to get his pumps off his silky stockinged feet, but then got stuck. He asked her to help him with the rest, and she got an evil grin.

She said, “I’ll help you undress, but first I want to see how good my new lesbian girlfriend is at pleasing me with her mouth. I’ll get you out as soon as you can bring me to climax. Also, your nails are too long to be a real lesbian, so your fingers are not allowed inside.”

David took the deepest breath he could and thought up a plan of action. He gathered his skirt like he was taught and sat on the other side of the bed from Maritza. He leaned back and rolled over onto his stomach, then managed to get up on all fours. It was awkward with a slip and a skirt getting in the way, but he crawled over to where she lay. He balanced on one hand and used the other to turn her face towards his, so he could give her a slow, wet kiss. His earrings jingled and his hair swung down to tickle her cheek.

He moved his free hand down to her breast and gently teased her nipple with his new talons. When it responded, he switched to brushing it with the side of his fingertip. She reached up a hand to fondle his silicone stuffing in return. She was really getting into the “lesbian” fantasy.

He held the kiss as long as he could, but then had to come up for air. The arm he was leaning on was starting to feel a little shaky, so he shifted his knees to the side and lay down onto his shoulder. He took a moment to smooth out his dress, and then moved his lips over to the unattended breast. A couple of quick licks and a puff of air woke up the nipple, and he brought his other hand up to play with it, making little circles and light pinches.

He licked his other hand to make it slipperier, and then spent some time shifting his head back and forth, taking turns giving each nipple a kiss as he stimulated them. He tossed his head and made sure to brush his chestnut locks against them. He slithered his head down and started kissing lower, spending some time suckling at her navel, getting his tongue into it completely. She squirmed in delight and played with his hair.

He had to abandon her breasts as he shifted his position, kissing down from her navel in a beeline. She was trying to make it difficult, so he had to use his hands to keep her knees separated. He gave a few zigzagging licks to her lower lips, so they wouldn’t feel left out, before seeking out the little man in the canoe.

He used a similar technique to what he did to her nipples, with a couple quick licks and a puff of air, and then while she twitched and moaned he hungrily began to work his way through the alphabet. He sang the song in his head to set an uneven pace, and right after he ran through “LMNOP” in rapid succession, she let out a loud moan and grabbed his head and held in place.

When her breathing got back to normal, she pulled his face up to hers for a kiss. She said he tasted like a good little lesbian carpet-muncher, and he had to correct her that there was no carpet down where he’d been munching.

She held up her end of the deal, and had him stand up. She unzipped his dress and let it fall to the floor, then she pulled his slip off over his head. Next she unfastened his garters and had him sit down so she could pull off his stockings. She said his toes looked prettier with their polish showing.

The next thing to come off was his padded panty girdle. It was still tight and rubbery on the inside and now it was sweaty too, which made it even tougher to get off. At last, she could untie the laces on his corset and loosen it enough so that it could be unhooked in front. It had left painful marks on his body, and when blood started flowing into them they became even more painful.

He lay on the bed and enjoyed being able to breathe again. She cuddled up to him and gave him some more kisses. He still looked a little girlish, with his man parts still tucked away in his gaff and his breast forms still filling his bra, still in full makeup and wearing all his jewelry. She told him again that she loved him and that she was excited that he was doing this, but it wasn’t too late to back out. She was afraid of hospitals and really didn’t want him to die. He promised her he wouldn’t die. He’d just have to wake up after his surgery, knowing she’d be there waiting for him.

When he seemed to have his second wind, she pulled down his thong and started massaging his bits to get the blood flowing again. It wasn’t long before a lot of blood was flowing and things were looking up. She mounted, and they very quickly found their rhythm. His energy was still fairly low, but she didn’t mind doing most of the work. She even offered to let him go first, but he held back until she was ready and they were near enough to simultaneous.

They snuggled for a few minutes, and then she finally let him take his bra off. She brought him over to her makeup table, and she cleaned his face with cold cream, and then took him into the bathroom to wash again with soap and water, and then an exfoliator, and then he had to moisturize. He took off his jewelry and changed to his regular earrings for sleeping.

The two lovers entwined their naked, exhausted bodies, and went to sleep, sharing nervous dreams of lesbian romance and scary unknown lessons. They awakened the next morning to a ringing phone. Claude wanted them to let him know when it would be okay for him to bring the crew over. Maritza told him they needed another couple hours and then proceeded to ravish her beautiful boyfriend once more.

Afterward, collapsed in his arms she confessed, “I am going to miss you. Just remember that no matter what that woman makes you do, or what you might learn about yourself, you belong to me.”

He smiled and kissed her. “Yes, I do. Always.”

She kissed him back. “And I am also yours, forever and always. I love you.”

Oscar Night by Jennifer Brock After agreeing to wear a gown to the Academy Awards ceremony due to an offhand comment to a fashion reporter, our hero, novelist/screenwriter David Fine decided to go all-out and agreed to have his face surgically feminized and his breasts enhanced with implants. He thinks he might be able to get a book out of it. This is the last bit of romance for a while, as David and his beloved, fashion model Maritza Delgado, are separated following his surgery, under order from his new Feminine Deportment Coach, Kay Thomas, a member of the "cabal" put together by his best friend fashion designer Claude Marsh to assist in David's transformation. In this installment, David gains a new name, and begins her training with Kay, and a horrible mistake is made. We begin right where we left off, as Maritza and David were enjoying the morning after their last night together for a month.

Part 12
David’s phone rang immediately after the two hours Maritza had asked Claude to wait had passed. She had shown him how to wash and condition his hair, and he was just getting out of the shower. Claude told him not to get dressed; they had something for him to wear. He was just to put on the robe they’d given him the day before.

Maritza threw on a top and a pair of jeans and went down to make sure the coffee maker had started itself, and she ran into Claude and his crew. He’d let himself in with his key. Vanessa asked where David was, and Maritza pointed up the stairs. She disappeared, carrying a garment bag.

Maritza tried to figure out who all was in her house, and she needed her coffee first, and there were boxes and suitcases and things being hauled upstairs. It was just too hectic. She filled her cup and sat in a corner with the least traffic to sip and try to process. At one point Antoine and Tomas were lugging some complicated metal thing that almost looked like a piece of furniture from a dungeon.

After a bit, David came down into the kitchen to join her. He was dressed in a pretty blue silky wrap dress with three-quarter sleeves and a nicely flared skirt. He had a pair of low wedge espadrilles in the same shade of blue on his feet. His hair was done up in a neat bun, but he had no makeup or jewelry, not even his usual little hoop earrings. Even with falsies in his bra, he seemed to be somewhere between a masculine woman and a feminine man. She couldn’t understand why he didn’t go all one way or the other.

He gave her a quick kiss and then poured himself a glass of water from the fridge. “How do I look? They convinced me that since I’ll be leaving the hospital with boobs, I should dress like they belong there. But the pre-surgery instructions from the doctor say not to wear any jewelry or makeup or perfume, so I don’t have a false mask of womanhood to hide behind. I feel sort of freakish, but I suppose I’ll be feeling like that for a while.” He held up a piece of paper. “I’m not allowed to eat anything, so stop me if I forget. There are a whole lot of rules about what I can do before and after my surgery.”

He showed the surgery rules to Maritza. “Vanessa even pointed out something I hadn’t noticed; I’m not supposed to raise my arms over my head for a week after the surgery, so she had to make sure all my clothes for the first week close in the front. And I can’t wear any full slips or camisoles, so she couldn’t use any sheer fabrics. She’s got me in a half-slip now that I had to pull up to my waist. I’m just glad they didn’t make me wear that waist cincher or butt pad today. It’s funny; for the first time since you overhauled my wardrobe I’m in cotton underpants again, but they’re even more feminine than my silk boxers.”

“Vanessa gave you a week’s worth of clothes?”

“More than that. Since Claude is being exiled from me with you, he’s put Vanessa in charge of making sure all my clothes fit. They’re up there now, packing up all my regular clothes and filling my closet with women’s wear. Kay said that she wants me living full time as a woman, so they’re taking away my ability to try to be male. And I can’t cheat because she’ll be watching me around the clock. They set up a cot for her in my office. She’ll be staying here with me for the next month.”

“Should I get worried about some woman that kicks me out of my home and moves in with my man?”

“You have no reason to get jealous. If you want to worry about something, they’re loading your things into suitcases up there. You might want to go keep an eye on them. I’m not sure if they’re planning on packing everything or just a month’s worth for you.” Maritza went up to make sure her favorite things were being treated properly.

David wanted to keep busy so he wouldn’t have time to worry about his surgeries. Since his house was full of people hard at work on a project all about him, he decided to do something nice to thank them. Just because he wasn’t allowed to eat didn’t mean everyone else had to go hungry. He rummaged through his grandmother’s recipe book and found what he wanted. He tied on an apron and set to work baking up some delicious oatmeal raisin muffins.

Tomas caught the aroma and came to see what was cooking. He laughed at the sight of David looking so completely contented and so much like a perfect housewife, standing there in an apron and oven mitts. The heat from cooking had reddened his cheeks and a few sassy tendrils had broken free from the bun in his hair. David sent Tomas off with a new cup of coffee and a freshly buttered hot muffin. He went to tell everyone else about the treat the nice lady in the kitchen had prepared, and one by one they each came to have a muffin.

It was getting closer and closer to the time to take him to the hospital. David was really nervous. Maritza sat with him. He wasn’t allowed to take any sedatives or tranquilizers to soothe his nerves, but there was nothing in his instructions prohibiting backrubs. There was a lot of tension in his shoulders. She used the heels of her hands and the sides of her thumbs to knead away his troubles. She told him that if he was going to be keeping long nails, he’d have to learn massage techniques that don’t use fingertips.

When she felt a bra strap, it gave her a little thrill and she had to bite her lip. It was going to be so fun when she had a pretty boyfriend with girlish breasts to play with, but still keeping the important boy parts. It sucked that she had to wait a month, but it would be worth it when she got to see him in his sexy dress! She made a mental note to buy batteries on the way from the hospital to her temporary home.

It became time to go. Tomas and Jeffrey had David’s male wardrobe boxed up in their van. They’d be storing it for him at their place. Antoine had Maritza’s luggage in his truck, and he’d be taking it home to their guest room. David wasn’t sure when Antoine had moved in with Claude, but they were good together. Maritza drove David to the hospital in her car, and she’d be taking Claude home afterwards. She wasn’t going to leave her other baby alone for a month. Vanessa brought Kay and Claude in her car to the hospital to wait; she’d be taking Kay and David home after the surgery.

It was a surprise when they were met at the hospital by Evelyn. She was wearing blue scrubs and carrying a clipboard. It turns out she used to be Ben’s nurse, and still helped him out with the Very Important Patients, and she insisted that David qualified as one of those. She led David through the admissions process, and then took the whole gang up in an elevator. There was a special room where family of surgical patients could wait so they didn’t have to mingle with the riffraff in the main hospital lobby. David gave Maritza a big hug and a kiss, and hugs to everyone else, and then Evelyn took him to go get prepared for surgery.

She stayed with him the whole time. First, she took him to the room where he’d be recovering after the procedure and had him change into a hospital gown. When he took his silicone-laden bra off, she said she’d make sure that didn’t get left behind when he got dressed again, since he’d be leaving with a new bra and something (some things, actually) to fill it and wouldn’t need the old one anymore. She put a thing on his head to keep his hair out of the way, and he had to wear special stockings on his legs.

She put him on a gurney and wheeled him to another room, where Dr. Ben came by to make sure he still wanted everything done, and he walked him through all the procedures. Then he got to meet the anesthesiologist, a kindly-looking Indian woman who explained some things to him, and then a thing was stuck in his arm and he waited a while listening to Evelyn talking to him until he got not quite sleepy but groggy and hazy.

He came back around in a different room. He still felt groggy, and a little numb all over his face like he’d been to a dentist with bad aim. He tried to sit up, but found out he was strapped down. There was still a thing in his arm. Evelyn was there, and told him the surgeries had all gone exceptionally well. She told him not to try to talk yet, and gave him a little piece of ice to suck on. He needed to work the anesthesia out of his system.

She did elevate his head a little, and told him to look down. At first he was distracted by the huge bandage on his nose, but slowly his brain started remembering why he was there. He blinked and refocused and could make out the unmistakable pair of breasts pushing out the top of his gown — they were gigantic!

Evelyn saw where he was looking and smiled. She told him they looked fantastic, and they were a little bigger than their final size due to a little swelling and a gauze dressing they were packed with. She also reassured him that they were currently riding a little higher than their ultimate position on his chest, and that was normal.

Evelyn loosened his restraints and took his pulse and blood pressure. A few minutes later she let him try and sit up, and he handled it but still felt a little mushy. She asked if he was in any pain, and he said no. His voice sounded a little hoarse. There had been tubes down his throat, so that was normal.

He had to stay there a little longer, but then she wheeled him to the recovery room. She got him a drink of water and a blanket, and then went to tell his people he was out. She came back with Maritza, who had a brief look of shock on her face when she saw him. She wanted to give him a hug, but Evelyn cautioned her to be gentle so she looked around for some part of him that hadn’t been operated upon. She took his hand and squeezed it, and said she was glad he made it through everything okay.

He asked her if he looked that horrible, and she said just a little like he’d been in a fight, plus he had boobies. He asked if he could see a mirror, and Evelyn brought one over so he could see himself. There was a row of tape strips across his forehead at the hairline, he seemed to be getting two black eyes, his nose was all trussed up in tape, there were bruises on each side of his jaw and some kind of dressing taped to his throat. Plus he had boobies.

Claude came in and thanked him for going the extra mile to making the greatest publicity stunt ever for one of his fashions, and they shared a laugh. David could see the concern in his friend’s face, and knew that he wasn’t just a pawn to him. Vanessa and Kay came in to sit and wait with him, too.

Doctor Ben came around to check on him, and said that everything went well. There hadn’t been any surprises in surgery, so he wasn’t expecting any unusual side effects. He hadn’t noticed any nerve damage, so all the areas where the procedures were done should have full sensation and he didn’t see any signs of partial paralysis in any of the facial areas. Evelyn would be following up with daily house calls for the next couple weeks, and Ben himself would see David in six days for a routine check-up to remove a few stitches.

After an hour, he was fully awake but still kind of strung out on pain pills. Evelyn shooed everyone out of the room so she could get him dressed. Under the hospital gown he saw that he was wearing a big white bra over his new breasts. She said that even though he was probably curious about them, he shouldn’t peek. The bra was a special post-surgery garment and needed to stay on all the time. He was tempted to try to touch his boobs, but controlled himself. Evelyn retrieved his clothes and dressed him. He was impressed when she pushed his genitals back under the crotch of his panties, and she winked and said he wasn’t her first tranny. He stepped into his half slip and then she got his arms into the sleeves of his dress, wrapped it around and tied it. She reminded him not to raise his arms above his shoulders for the first week. He had to sit in a wheelchair, and she slipped his shoes onto his feet.

She wheeled him out and the gang was all there. Vanessa was glad the dress fit his new bust. Kay told him to keep his knees together. Maritza squeezed his shoulder. Claude offered to push the wheelchair, but Evelyn wouldn’t let him. They stopped at a desk where David had to sign some release forms and Claude had to sign some money forms. Evelyn asked who would be taking care of David when he got home, and Kay raised her hand. She handed her a prescription bottle and some instructions for his pain medicine.

Before long it was time to go their separate ways. Claude gave him an extra-manly handshake all the way to the elbow and said that he’d be staying away as ordered, but he could always be reached in an emergency, and Vanessa had an expense account and was under orders to get him anything he needed to assist in his femininity.

Maritza very carefully and gently kissed him, and told him she loved him and they’d both be so busy it wouldn’t seem that long until she saw him again. He said he loved her and he would probably miss her anyway. It was a tough goodbye.

***

Kay helped David into the back seat of Vanessa’s car, and she drove them back to his townhouse. In the car, Kay gave a speech, “Okay, from this point on you are no longer to think of yourself as male. You are female, with maybe a few extra parts that sometimes get in the way. David is gone. The first step you’re going to do when you get home is call your credit card company and have them issue you a new card with just your initial instead of your whole name. When you’re healed, we’ll be going out in public and we don’t want to have to explain to a waiter or cashier why your card says “David.” Until you tell me a female name you’d rather be called, I’ll simply refer to you by just your initial. Do you understand, D.?”

David nodded and said, “I think I understand. I’m not a man named David anymore; I’m now a woman named Dee. I guess my goal this next month is to define who Dee Fine is.”

“Cute.”

“Thanks, but I should be even cuter when the bandages come off.”

“Anyway, it seems like you get it. You’re a girl now. Welcome to the wonderful world of womanhood.” She turned to Vanessa. “That goes for everyone she’ll be dealing with, too. Don’t let me catch you referring to D. as anything but female.”

“Okay. I’ll pass the word. Do I have to change my name to Vee, or are you two the only ones who get to be letters?”

“You can if you want to, but it isn’t necessary.”

When they arrived, Vanessa and Kay supported David on each side and helped him up the front steps. Unlike the old days when surgical patients got bed rest for a couple days after being cut open, modern doctors want you up and moving around as soon as possible to avoid blood clots.

Kay explained that she had to shake up her usual lesson plan. There were a bunch of lessons that were unnecessary, like teaching D. about hair removal, makeup techniques for minimizing masculine traits, or how to properly care for breast forms. She also could skip the training sessions that were supposed to replace male attitudes toward cooking and housekeeping. She usually started with voice training, but because D. had had surgery on both her nose and throat, that wasn’t a good idea. Those lessons were still needed, but had to wait. She decided that the next day D. would start learning how to walk, but before then she’d get to take it easy with a lesson called “Establishing a Feminine Cultural Frame of Reference.”

The lesson started with a screening of Titanic followed by a bowl of double chocolate Há¤agen-Dazs. When she found out what the lesson was, Vanessa decided to stick around and assist with the female bonding. D. then had her choice of reading either a Cosmo or a Harlequin. She picked the magazine, since she wasn’t supposed to be thinking like a novelist, but it took much longer to read than she expected. Kay kept asking her questions, in order to get her to empathize with the women in the articles or even the pictures in the ads.

At the end of the day, Vanessa gave D. a hand climbing the stairs up to her bedroom. She had her choice of sleeping in two-piece pajamas or a nightgown. Kay made the decision and said to go with the nightgown. It was white cotton with buttons all down the front, and was trimmed in eyelet lace. She kept her bra and panties on underneath it.

When she was in a comfortable position in bed lying on her back, Vanessa wished her a good night and told her to call if she needed anything, and then she went home. Kay bid her a good night as well and retreated to they bed they’d brought in for her in the room next door.

***

David woke up feeling like a trainwreck. There were sharp pains in his face all over, and there was a tightness in his chest. He reached over to Maritza’s side of the bed, and she wasn’t there! He turned to look at the clock and it was three in the morning. His arm brushed his breast, and he started remembering. He’d brought this all upon himself.

He vaguely remembered they’d given him a bottle of pills at the hospital. Where was it? He got out of bed, which took a while as his legs got tangled up in his pretty nightgown, and looked around the bedroom. He didn’t see a pill bottle. It wasn’t in his bathroom either.

He went into the hall and the door to his office was open. He heard Kay breathing inside. Maybe she knew where his medication was. He really didn’t want to, but he felt he had no choice. He crept in and gently shook her awake. Luckily she wasn’t a very deep sleeper.

Kay rubbed her eyes and looked up. After giving a slight shriek at the strange creature in her room she figured out what was happening. “D.? What is it?” Panic was shocking her awake. “Is something wrong? Did you pull out a stitch or something?”

David had to remember that Kay referred to him as a woman named Dee. “I’m sorry to wake you up, but do you know where we put the drugs they gave me for the pain?”

Kay thought for a moment. “I think we left them in the kitchen.” She got out of bed, and
Dee saw that her choice in sleepwear was a long t-shirt. They went downstairs to the kitchen, and sure enough, there was a pill bottle and a sheet of paper sitting on the counter.

Kay picked up the paper to read the dosage information. “Oh no! We were supposed to give you two pills before you went to bed, and we didn’t. I should have checked this before. I’m so sorry! They put me in charge of your medication, and I messed up. I guess you should take two now, and if you want to sleep late tomorrow I won’t make you get out of bed. I hope this doesn’t make you lose confidence in me. I really am good at teaching; I guess I’m just a lousy nurse. I’ve never been in this kind of situation before, and apparently I wasn’t thinking about what it meant to watch over a surgery patient.” She opened the childproof cap and handed Dee two little white pills, and then rummaged through the kitchen to get her a glass of water. “Can you forgive my stupidity?”

Dee took the pills and downed the glass of water. Her throat was a little sore, so swallowing brought more pain, but she got them down. “Ok, but just remember this if I mess up during my woman lessons. We’re all human.”

Kay gave her a half a hug so as not to crush her breasts. “Thank you.” She walked Dee back upstairs and put her to bed, taking the time to show her how to keep her nightgown from riding up.

The pills did their job, and the pain faded to numbness, and David was able to get back to sleep. He had some bizarre dreams, but awoke refreshed and well-rested at the crack of noon the next day.

In an odd way, the screw-up with the medicine had help break the ice and Kay seemed more like a person than a rigid drill instructor. After a light omelet brunch, she sat Dee down to talk about what kind of person she was. Kay explained that there were different kinds of men who want to look like women. Some were drag queens, gay men who adopted over-the-top looks in mockery of women, for entertainment. She thought it was a way for naturally effeminate men to turn a liability into an asset. There was a whole subculture around the gay drag scene, with complicated social structures and competitions for status.

There were other gay men who tried for a more realistic feminine appearance, as a way to date closeted men who were still hung up on trying to pass as straight. Similar to this but not quite the same were sex workers who tried to look as close to female prostitutes as possible, in order to target the type of john who wanted to have sex with a woman with a penis. Now some of those prostitutes actually fall into the next category, transsexuals, men who feel that they should have born women.

Through hormones and surgeries (some not unlike the ones Dee had) they remold their male bodies into female ones that match their female brains. A lot of them get drawn into the sex industry because those medical procedures are expensive, and some men who want a sex partner with breasts and a penis are willing to pay a lot.

Now because of that, there are some, probably gays from one of the first two categories, who don’t really want to be women but appreciate looking feminine, who go the medical route but keep their male genitals just to get some of that “she-male” sex worker money. These are often more popular with their clients than the true transsexuals, who are usually impotent from hormones and are typically even chemically or physically castrated. The “straight” guy looking to have sex with a woman with a penis generally wants that penis to be capable of erection and ejaculation.

Transsexuals who come from more affluent backgrounds and don’t have to lower themselves to doing sex work have varying success in society. Kay explained that if they start out as large, masculine men, the best they can hope for is to become large, masculine women, even with the best doctors. They’ll always stand out as different and never quite get completely accepted as women. A side effect of the media coverage transsexuals receive is that even large, masculine genetic females are regarded suspiciously.

The lucky ones, transsexuals who start out as small, fine-boned men, can usually pass as women without anyone ever realizing. Kay said that Dee fell closer to that end of the spectrum. She wasn’t perfectly slim, but she wasn’t tall or massive, and her features weren’t even that heavy before the surgery to reduce them.

Now there were some men who thought they were transsexual, but weren’t really. Their minds were still male, but they were attracted to the idea of becoming women. Autogynephilia was a kind of sexual fetish, and the more female these guys became the more they got off on it. Unfortunately, it’s hard to know they’re not real transsexuals until hormones or castration stop the testosterone that’s driving the libido, and suddenly being a woman isn’t sexy anymore, but it’s too late to go back.

There were other straight men that got a sexual thrill from dressing up in women’s clothing but knew they didn’t want to become women. These men would usually only dress in the privacy of their own home, and frequently would just wear lingerie with nothing over it and change back as soon as they had an orgasm. Now those guys would sometimes keep taking it to higher levels in order to get a bigger thrill, occasionally even seeking sex with men as a means to feel more feminine, but they usually don’t go as far as getting any surgery.

Now a similar group is men who identify as straight men, and don’t see themselves as women trapped in the wrong bodies, but that do have a strong sense of a feminine self. They may have started dressing as women for a sexual thrill, but graduated to enjoying being female in completely nonsexual contexts as well. Quite often they lead double lives, spending the days working as men, then expressing themselves as women on nights or weekends. Sometimes they keep their dressing a secret from wives and families and friends, sometimes the wives actually enjoy having a new girlfriend or sister.

Kay said that she’d had students from all of those categories, and could adjust her lesson plan accordingly. Actually, her clients fell into twice as many categories, as she made most of her money training actors who were playing a role of someone in one of the real categories. That was how she got started in the business; a boyfriend of hers was once up for a role as a transsexual prostitute and she helped him prepare. Then he had a friend land a similar gig and the boyfriend convinced him to pay her, and the rest as they say was history.

There was one time where her student wasn’t giving the director what he wanted so she got called onto the set to coach him, but the director ended up liking what she was doing better than the actor, so he gave her the part instead. So now and forever there’s a listing on the Internet Movie Database that shows Kay Thomas one acting role as “Tranny Hooker #3” in an episode of Homicide.

A year or so later she had a client who was not only an actor but also a real transsexual, and she recommended Kay to some friends of hers, and that got her started in the non-theatrical side of things. She made a fair amount of money teaching other men to be women.

Anyway, the purpose of the whole lecture was to see which category Dee felt she belonged in. David still thought of himself as straight, so that eliminated the gay ones. He had gotten a bit of a thrill when Maritza made him wear her panties, but he didn’t want to admit that. He told Kay that he was kind of like the straight guy who dresses up and becomes his wife’s girlfriend some of the time, but since his book concept was to spend a year living as a woman, he was more like an actor playing a transsexual. He asked if a transsexual could be a lesbian, and Kay tried not to laugh when she said that Dee could definitely be a transsexual lesbian; sexuality and gender identity come from different parts of the brain.

Since Dee wasn’t dressing for a sexual thrill, Kay had brought a special tea with her that she wanted her to drink every day. It was made from a mixture of organic herbs, all of which had an anaphrodisiac effect; they decreased the sex drive. She said that it would help Dee in thinking like a woman if a little reminder that she was a man didn’t keep popping up. She said that it wouldn’t do any permanent damage, and she’d have her stop taking it well before the awards show, so David wouldn’t need to worry about failing to perform when he was alone with his girlfriend again.

David thought that it would make it easier to live without Maritza for a month if he didn’t have to think sexy thoughts, but wasn’t real sure Kay knew what she was doing, since she’d already made one mistake with administering drugs. Dee said she wanted to call a pharmacist and see if there would be any dangerous interaction with her medication, and if the pharmacist said it was okay she’d do it. But if the pharmacist said no, then she wouldn’t drink the tea, and it wouldn’t have to count toward the two refusals she was allowed, since Kay had said at the beginning that she wouldn’t cause any physical harm.

Kay agreed to her terms, but it was easy enough for her to find someone in the phone book who was licensed pharmacist, certified by the State of California, who took a positive approach toward alternative medicines. He knew his herbs and when she listed her ingredients he called it “impotence tea” and said he was familiar with it. She ran down the list of the drugs David had been given at the hospital and the pain meds he was still taking, and asked if there were any incompatibilities. The pharmacist said they were fine together, and the tea might even help mellow his mood so whatever he was taking the other stuff for wouldn’t feel so bad. They thanked him, and Dee drank the tea. It was vaguely minty but not too strong.

They went upstairs and Kay helped Dee get dressed. She put on rubber gloves and showed her the technique for tucking her testicles up into the space from where they’d originally descended. She said that there were four ways to keep everything in place. She could just keep her thighs squeezed together and nothing would have a chance to fall out, but Kay didn’t recommend that. She could just wear a tight pair of panties or a crotch-smoothing gaff to keep her bits in place, but then she’d have to re-tuck every time she went to the bathroom. Kay suggested the technique that would work the best for her would be to apply a couple strips of surgical adhesive tape after tucking, and that way she could drop her panties if needed and not lose her feminine mound. It would also reinforce her femaleness by forcing her to sit to pee. Kay said that some transsexuals take it a step even further and apply superglue to their genitals to not only keep things tucked up but also to form their scrotal skin into the appearance of labia. Dee agreed with her that they didn’t need to go that extreme.

So after a tuck and tape, she slid on a clean pair of panties. They were still cotton like the ones from the day before, but they had a little more lace. Kay helped her into a pretty pink blouse, but made her do the buttons herself. It was tricky with long nails, but she got it. It felt weird touching her boobs as she was buttoning, and she couldn’t decide whether it was stranger to feel a breast under her hand or to feel a hand touching her breast.

She pulled on a longer half slip than the previous day’s, and then stepped into a long full skirt that billowed out and came all the way to her ankles even though it was pulled up high to where a woman’s waist would be. Kay helped her button and zip it up in back.
She said that Dee could skip hosiery again, but strapped a pair of sandals with three-inch spike heels onto her feet.

Kay had been busy while Dee slept. She’d run a stripe of gaffer tape down the middle of the hallway, and into every room. Dee asked if this was like one of those sitcoms where roommates have a fight and divide their space in half. Kay laughed and told her that it was for her walking lessons. The tape was there to ensure that Dee walked by placing her feet in a straight line.

It was a very strange feeling, teetering on wobbly little points. Kay showed her how to adjust her stance to accommodate her new center of gravity, and then led her through a few cautious steps. Gradually she gained confidence and could walk without looking down. Kay must have selected that skirt intentionally so that Dee couldn’t watch her feet. The full skirt gave the weird sensation of her legs being naked yet completely covered at the same time.

At three o’ clock in the afternoon, Evelyn came by to check on the patient’s progress.
She took Dee upstairs and gave her a sponge bath. She didn’t say anything when she took off her panties and found her all tucked and taped. She changed the dressings on her chin and throat and put fresh tape strips on her forehead. She left all the packing in her nose in place.

The bizarre part was when Evelyn copped a feel. She gave each of Dee’s breasts a good squeeze and massaged them around in a little circle. She left her bra on the whole time, but slipped her cleansing wipes under the edges. Then she slipped her whole hand into the bra cups and worked some kind of lotion into her skin. She even used her fingers to play with Dee’s nipples, asking if she could feel it. She could, and Evelyn said that was a good thing. Some women end up with beautiful breasts but insensate nipples, which almost defeats the point.

After being cleaned and groped, Dee got dressed again, needing only a little help this time. She did need more practice before she’d be able to buckle her shoes with long nails, though. She thanked Evelyn and walked her to the door, only stumbling a couple of times on the stairs. Her heels made the stairs seem steeper, which took a lot of getting used to.

By the end of the evening she could walk in a straight line, with her head held upright and her breasts thrust out proudly, and even had a hint of a wiggle in her hips. When she got worried about overexerting the recovering surgical patient, Kay switched and threw in a few lessons in getting in and out of chairs. She made sure Dee untucked herself before going to bed. If she hadn’t been on pain medicine, her genitals probably would have been complaining, as would her feet from all the walking in heels. It had been a long day, so she went to bed early and read a little of the romance novel after taking her pills.

Oscar Night by Jennifer Brock What started out with a flippant comment to an obnoxious fashion reporter has snowballed into an exploration of gender identity. Novelist/Screenwriter David Fine made a deal to wear a gown to the Academy Awards presentation, and took it much further by getting his face surgically feminized and his breasts enhanced. His best friend fashion designer Claude Marsh hired "Feminine Deportment Coach" Kay Thomas to train him how to act. Among her draconian rules were that his girlfriend Venezuelan model Maritza Delgado should stay out of contact for a month as he works to develop a new female identity, which she addresses by her initial D., or "Dee." So far, Dee has had a lesson in how to walk in heels, and had a house call from her nurse. In this installment, she gets a few more lessons and begins to worry about who she or he truly is.

Part 13
Dee’s outfit for her second day of walking lessons was almost the exact opposite as the previous one. Her top had long flowing sleeves, but her skirt was short and tight and almost made her look like a cheap whore (and judging by the bandages on her face, a whore who had disobeyed her pimp). Her shoes were at least an inch taller than the day before, and Kay made her wear pantyhose, which required learning how to put them on without stretching them unevenly or putting a nail through them. She ruined three pairs of hose before getting it right.

Sitting in a chair in a miniskirt also introduced a whole lot of new rules, all about being aware of the line-of-sight to your panties. Dee also had to act as though people would be noticing her legs, especially male people, and display them appropriately. Kay taught her three different ways to cross her legs, depending on how sexy she was trying to be.

Kay showed her a video of some fashion show footage, to watch how the models walked. She then took her camera sand recorded Dee walking down the hallway, both toward and away from the camera. She then played both videos for her, and pointed out what the models were doing that Dee wasn’t, and vice versa. The short skirt made sense in that she could see exactly what her legs were doing.

They worked all day on walking, taking breaks only for meals and when Evelyn came by. She raised an eyebrow at Dee’s micro-mini, so she explained about needing to see her legs for walking practice. Her checkup was pretty much a repeat of the first one: cleansing, changing bandages, and massaging and treating her breasts with lotion. It was almost a sensual experience, which made Dee grateful that Kay’s special tea was keeping her from having an embarrassing reaction.

There was more walking and standing and sitting in the evening, until Dee was too tired to do more. She took her drugs and went to bed, and this time was able to get into her nightgown unassisted.

The next day, Kay made her wear a padded panty girdle again, like she had on that first day before her surgeries. She got to wear stockings instead of pantyhose, but she had to roll them up her legs and attach the garters herself, which was tricky with her long nails. She thought she did okay until Kay showed her the runs she’d caused and made her take them off and try again. Once she got it right, she had to also take her stockings off without damaging them. Then Kay raised the stakes by handing her a fancy sheer black pair and told her that this time she had to get them on while keeping the seams straight.

Kay also laced her into a tight waist cincher again. It was good for helping her stand up straight, but breathing wasn’t as easy. She pulled a lacy black camisole over Dee’s head and had to unhook the straps so she could put it on without raising her arms, and then hook them back when it was in place. A gauzy blouse with fluttery cap sleeves went over that, and then she stepped into a red skirt that was slightly longer than the previous day’s micro-mini, and zipped it up in back.

A pair of red patent leather pumps with four-inch heels completed her ensemble, and she stood up and looked in the mirror. The smaller waist and rounder hips really made her breasts look bigger. It was a deliberately sexy outfit, but she didn’t think she looked as much like a common hooker as the day before, maybe more of a high-class call girl. She supposed it was possible she could be just dressed to impress for a hot date or a night of clubbing, but she still felt more like a sex worker.

She had to repeat everything she’d learned about walking, and her accentuated figure really helped her match the models in the video. It was kind of weird spending the day watching behinds in tight skirts wiggling back and forth without feeling anything remotely sexual about it, but she guessed that meant Kay’s tea was working. Dee wondered if watching the tape of her own sexy posterior walking down the hall would have turned her on if not for the tea.

By dinner time, she had mastered the walk that Kay called a “runway sashay,” a slow sensual stride that needed a lot of roll in the hips. Dee was glad that all her walking lessons were over, until Kay told her there were two more walks she needed to be able to do, a fast, confident “catwalk strut” and a graceful, ethereal “ballroom glide.” It took four more days of training to add those walks to her repertoire.

All the exercise really made her sweaty and uncomfortable, but at least Evelyn was coming every day to give her a sponge bath, and on her fourth visit she even washed Dee’s hair for her. She had to lean over the edge of the bathtub, so it wasn’t quite as nice as getting a shampoo in a salon, but it was good to feel clean.

Once she had all three walks down, Kay made sure she never relaxed and reverted to a slouchy male style for getting around the house. Dee had to keep at it until a feminine stride became second nature and she wouldn’t even have to think about it. But with the formal walking lessons officially over, she thought they could take a break and switch back to another installment of “Establishing a Feminine Cultural Frame of Reference.”

Kay called Vanessa and invited her over for a day of Chick Flicks. They watched Terms of Endearment, and Dee really didn’t need to be told that she had permission to weep at the sad parts. After the movie they had a light lunch and talked about what they’d liked in the film, and the real lesson began in earnest. She wasn’t being too aggressively conversational like a alpha male would, but Kay did have some suggestions for alternate phrasing that would express her opinions in a more feminine manner. Dee also needed a little bit of coaching to talk more about feelings than things.

But by far the toughest part of the lesson was tying to use more gesture when talking, and to express herself as a female through body language. Dee had to struggle to think about every little movement, and she messed up a few times by over-exaggerating. Kay told her not to worry; it would take a lot of practice before it would feel natural or automatic.

Their second feature was Thelma and Louise. This time Kay paused it a few times, to call Dee’s attention to how an actress was moving while speaking, and had her try to mimic a pose or movement. The post-movie discussion spent a little too much time on the subject of Brad Pitt’s butt for her taste; she appreciated him aesthetically, but couldn’t really think of him as a sexual object the way the others could, especially with her libido turned down by Kay’s herbs. But the idea of him didn’t repulse her either, which seemed kind of weird. She felt she did a good job keeping up her end of the rest of the conversation, participating without trying to dominate.

The afternoon brought a surprise when Evelyn did not come alone, but brought her husband with her. After removing her dressings, Dr. Ben examined each of her surgical sites, and decided that her stitches were ready to come out. It didn’t really hurt, but having the bits of suture pulled through her skin was a weird feeling. The best part was the tremendous relief of finally getting the packing out of her nose.

Dee was eager to look in a mirror, to see what her new face looked like without all that tape and gauze, but they weren’t finished. They removed her blouse, and for the first time ever her surgical bra came off. Dee couldn’t help but look down at the very real pair of breasts sticking off her chest. There were a couple of stitches in each of her underarms that came off and then they were done.

She stood and went to the mirror, and it was amazing! The face looked familiar, but it was softened, more feminine, maybe even cute. And the boobs almost looked natural. They were big, but didn’t really seem too big for her body. Her areolas had stretched a bit, but her nipples were still on the small side. David looked at the girl in the mirror and wondered if he was still in there somewhere. The image really didn’t feel like the same person anymore.

Dee wasn’t sure how long she stood there dumbfounded at her own appearance. She only snapped out of it when Vanessa made a comment, “Damn, Girl! You’re really built!” Dee got really embarrassed that everyone was there now, and reflexively covered her naked breasts with her hands. Her huge boobs made her hands seem smaller and daintier.

She blushed even redder when Vanessa made her move her hands so she could measure Dee’s new bustline. It suddenly made sense why they’d called her in, since Claude had put her in charge of Dee’s wardrobe. Vanessa confirmed that she was a 38D, as planned. Ben said she could switch to regular bras in the daytime, but he wanted her to keep wearing the surgical bra at night. And he told Vanessa that push-ups and underwires were still off limits — soft cup only.

Vanessa went to rummage through the closet while Evelyn showed Dee how to rub the special cream into her breasts to promote elasticity in her skin and reduce the chance of getting stretch marks. Then she had to massage each one and give her implants a good squeeze to make sure everything was staying appropriately supple. Dee tried to pretend that it wasn’t terribly embarrassing by casually asking Ben and Evelyn if they had somewhere to be, or if they could stay for dinner. Her meatloaf was already in the oven and Vanessa had agreed to join them, so there would be plenty for more. Evelyn surprised her by accepting the invitation.

Ben had a new pill bottle for her. He’d reduced her pain medication and wanted her to switch right away, even though there was still some left in the old bottle. She was to start taking the lower dosage, but keep the stronger ones handy in case she had any strong pains, and to call him immediately if that happened.

Finally Vanessa returned from what seemed like an eternity going through her wardrobe. Dee was grateful to be less exposed. Vanessa brought her a black, silky bra and Kay talked her through the steps in putting it on. She had to slip her arms through the straps, and then bring the cups up to her breasts. Next, Lay told her to slide her hands along the band to the back, so that it didn’t move out of place, and then find the hooks on one side and the loops on the other and bring them together. She got one hook in, but there were three of them and on the first try she ended up getting the next hook into a different set of loops. Then she had the top and bottom hook okay, but the middle one was out and it was impossible to hook with the other two in place.

She had a tremendous sense of accomplishment at getting them all hooked, but Vanessa and Kay agreed that her band wasn’t tight enough and she needed to change it to the next set of loops. Once she finally got that done, she had to go back to the front and make sure she was sitting correctly in the cups. She had no idea what that felt like, and needed to be shown what a right and wrong fit looked and felt like. With the cups in the right place, she had to adjust the little buckles on the straps so they were tight enough but not too tight.

When it was all done, she looked in the mirror and it was worse than when she was topless. The sexy black bra had lace along the edges, and the cups only seemed to cover about two-thirds of her breasts, leaving the tops and inside edges exposed and decorated with lace. She was showing a cleavage, and it made her chest look bigger and more prominent than when her boobs were naked.

Beyond just wearing new underthings, they thought that Dee should change her outfit, too. Kay ushered Ben and Evelyn out of the room, but Dee wanted to make sure they were treated properly, with a drink or something. Kay said it was a good sign that she wanted to be a good hostess, and told her not to worry. She’d take care of them and then come back.

Vanessa had picked a silk wrap dress in a sort of rust brown color. It had three-quarter length sleeves and a really deep v-neck. It was almost too revealing. Dee thought that it would hang better if she used all her figure enhancements, so she took the dress off and then put on her padded panty girdle and waist cincher before putting the dress back on. At Vanessa’s suggestion, she also switched to suntan pantyhose. The shoes she’d selected were three-inch peeptoe pumps in copper-colored alligator texture.

The shoes made more sense when she added dangly earrings with copper bangles and little wooden beads, and a coordinating necklace that nestled a copper pendant right between her breasts. Vanessa put a bunch of thin copper bracelets on her left wrist and a large ring with a yellow stone on her right middle finger, and then let her look in the mirror. The color scheme really brought out the red accents in her hair.

Kay came up and did her makeup. Ordinarily, she would have stood by and instructed her student what to do and made her apply everything herself. But since they were pressed for time and Dee’s face was still a little tender, she cut her a break and did it all for her. She stuck mainly with the palette of earth tones that Vanessa had set, and went for a mostly natural look, with cocoa eye shadow, bronze blusher, and a maroon lipstick. She did inject a little drama in the look with black eye liner and mascara, and frightened Dee with an eyelash curler. She teased her hair up a little and gave it a shot of hairspray, and gave her a look in the mirror. Kay had dusted a little glittery powder in her décolletage, that twinkled when the light hit it a certain way. That drew her eye before she got a good look at her face.

David had never really learned to appreciate what makeup could do for the average woman. He’d always just shrugged it off as a societal convention with no real value. Living with Maritza who’d go from simply stunning to absolutely gorgeous when made up didn’t do much to help dispel that illusion. But when Dee looked at her reflection and saw what the right cosmetics could do to her plain yet feminine face, she was amazed. When they’d made up David to look like a woman that had been like a mask or disguise, but this was something different, more like an enhancement. The woman in the mirror was flawlessly beautiful! There was no possible way this person could ever have been male. Somewhere deep inside, David’s sense of identity was crumbling.

Dee was worried about messing up her pretty outfit when she finished getting dinner ready, but Vanessa was prepared. She tied a white ruffled apron onto her, and told her she could put her ring and bracelets in the pocket while she was cooking. They went downstairs and she told Vanessa and Kay to keep Ben and Evelyn entertained, refusing all offers to help with the meal, although she did let them serve the wine.

Most of the meal was nearly ready. The meatloaf was ready to come out of the oven to rest. The potatoes had been mashed and seasoned, and went in just long enough for the cheese to melt. The dinner rolls would be done at roughly the same time. She threw together a tossed salad fairly quickly. She was using cherry tomatoes, so all she had to do was tear up some romaine and slice a Bermuda onion. She’d made croutons the day before and had plenty left. She popped some mixed vegetables into the microwave while she stirred a roux into the drippings from the loaf for gravy.

She set the table and lit some candles for a centerpiece, put her ring and bracelets back on, hung her apron up in the pantry, and then called everyone in. They all complimented her on a lovely presentation, and Ben said the chef was even lovelier and proposed a toast to “Delicious food and beautiful company.” Dee blushed and said that she was merely the culmination of the efforts of the rest of them, but she hoped the meal would satisfy.

It did. As they ate, Evelyn turned back into a fan since she was off duty. She peppered Dee with questions about the latest novel. She had some difficulty thinking of herself as David the author, but did her best to come up with answers. It left her feeling strange and disoriented. She shook it off and focused on trying to eat in a feminine manner like Kay had taught her.

The dessert which had been chilling in the fridge featured a blueberry compote filling sandwiched between layers of sponge cake and topped with freshly whipped cream. She served it with a pot of strong, slightly bitter coffee. The flavors worked well together. Even though most of her guests were stuffed, it was too good a treat to pass up. They talked for a bit, but it wasn’t long before it was just Kay and Dee left.

Kay said she’d done well enough at hosting an impromptu dinner party that they’d be skipping some lessons. Most of her students would have taken a more masculine, aggressive approach, but Dee had seemed to know instinctively how to be a good hostess, allowing herself to slip into the background and let her culinary creations take center stage and show off for her. She hadn’t even tried to steer any of the conversations.

Dee took off her jewelry and swapped her dangly earrings for sleepers. Her feet felt relieved when she slipped off her shoes; there was a downside to reducing her pain medication. She hung her dress up and Kay had her sit at her vanity in her underwear to remove her makeup with cold cream wipes. She remarked that it would be nice to be able to shower again and that gave Kay an idea. She ran off to the bathroom, and Dee could hear the water running.

She’d decided that Dee’s reward for the day would be one of the ultimate female indulgences — a luxuriating bubble bath. She told Dee to strip and put on her robe. When she called her into the bathroom, the tub was filled with warm, floral-scented water covered in rich foam. Soft music was playing on a portable CD. She shed her robe and stepped into the tub, then slid down beneath the foam. It was a strange sensation as her breasts tried to float. Kay handed her a glass of sweet wine and a fashion magazine and told her to just relax and enjoy a well-earned soak.

Dee laid back and closed her eyes and listened to the music for a while. She felt very feminine, and ran her hands along her smooth legs and across her sexy flotation devices. After a few sips of wine the pleasant scent rising from the bath was making her very calm and serene. She picked up the magazine and read a few articles, trying to imagine herself in various styles. There was an article about getting your body ready for bikini season that was a little depressing, since her thick waist and flat behind would never look good in a two-piece.

She flipped ahead quickly and stopped short when she came to an ad that had a photo of Amanda. It brought to mind a few naughty memories, but mostly reminded David that he missed his girlfriend. The illusion faded for a bit, and he sat up in the tub and hugged his hairless legs to his breasts and let himself sob for a couple minutes before trying to get back in character. Dee ducked her head under water so Kay wouldn’t be able to tell she’d been crying, and then called out that she was done with her bath. She shouted back that she was to pull the plug then take a quick shower to rinse off the bubbles and to wash and condition her hair.

When she came out of the shower, Kay gave her a big fluffy bath sheet to dry off with and then tuck around herself, and a second towel for her hair, showing her how to turban it. She got out a bottle of after-bath moisturizer and was going to explain to Dee how to use it, but she already knew how. Maritza had made skin care part of David’s regular routine months before.

She put on a clean surgical bra and a fresh pair of white cotton panties, (Kay told her not to tuck anything inside her body, just push them all back and out of the way) and then she pulled a new sleeveless white cotton nightgown over her head. She had to comb out her hair while it was damp, and then Kay braided it for her so she wouldn’t get tangles while she slept.

She got into bed and wished Kay a good night. It had been a long and eventful day, which gave her a lot to think about. She hoped to have happy dreams. Oddly enough, her last thought before drifting off to sleep was the image of Brad Pitt’s butt.

Oscar Night by Jennifer Brock Novelist/Screenwriter David Fine promised to wear a gown to the Academy Awards in order to get an obnoxious fashion reporter to shut up about the tuxedo his friend fashion designer Claude Marsh had made for him. But since Claude felt insulted too, he assembled a team an worked with the assistance of David's girlfriend bisexual Venezuelan model Maritza Delgado to steer him in a more feminine metrosexual direction. But once the nominations were announced, they raised the bar and got David to agree that it would make an even bigger impact if he looked completely passably female in his gown. David went so far as to have his face surgically feminized and his breasts enhanced with implants. Claude hired Kay Thomas, and expert in teaching men to be women, to show David, now living around the clock as a woman she calls Dee, how to become all that she can be. In Part 13 the bandages came off, and in this installment Dee will venture outside her townhouse for the first time.

Part 14
Dee slept unevenly, having some odd dreams she couldn’t quite remember. And every so often she’d roll over in her sleep and her breasts would complain and wake her up. When she finally decided to get up, it was awkward figuring out how to get out of bed without rolling over. She tied on a robe that seemed to match her nightgown, and put her feet into the pair of two-inch mules that Kay had said were to serve as her slippers.

Remembering to walk as instructed, she sashayed into her bathroom, gathered up her skirts and sat down to relieve herself, even though she wasn’t taped. She performed her usual morning facial treatment, brushed her teeth, and tried to see if a bit of lipstick would make the girl in the mirror look a little less like a zombie. It did, in the sense that a vampire isn’t a zombie. But she didn’t feel like changing to a different color anyway.

She glided down into the kitchen and started the coffee. She wasn’t in the mood for a big breakfast, so she just had a bowl of cereal and some juice. Kay hadn’t gotten up yet, so the morning paper was still waiting on the front steps. If she wanted to read it, she’d have to go out there and get it herself. The thought of going outside as a woman launched a thousand butterflies in her stomach, and nearly sent her orange juice back to her mouth. Why did Kay have to sleep late?

Dee paced back and forth in the front hall, doing her fiercest strut to try to psych herself up. She went to the powder room and emptied her nervous bladder, taking extra care to tuck everything away when she had finished, so there would be no unsightly bulges. Unfortunately, the tape was upstairs, so she had to hope her panties were tight enough to keep things secured.

She tightened her robe so that it would be obvious to anyone who caught a glimpse that this person was definitely female, and couldn’t possibly be the guy who lives there. She strode to the door, took a deep breath, and opened it just a crack. The morning sun was very bright and she had to squint, but she saw the newspaper was in the middle of the front walk, out of reach a good twelve feet away. She would have to leave the house to get it.

However, the bright light gave her an idea. She went upstairs to see what kinds of accessories she had available. On her vanity table, she found the quintessential element of LA fashion for anyone who desired anonymity: a pair of designer sunglasses. They had big smoky lenses that would be just the thing to keep her from being recognized as David.

While she was up there, she taped her tuck, just in case. Another check in the full-length mirror revealed someone who looked less like a zombie and more like a party girl who’d had a rough night the day before. Her hair was still in a tight braid or she would have tried doing something with it to make sure she looked female from a distance.

As confident as she was going to get, she went back downstairs and opened the front door all the way this time, then sashayed down the walk and bent down from the knees as she’d been trained to pick up her newspaper. She carried it in and started reading the front page as she finished her breakfast. Without thinking, she pushed her sunglasses up onto her forehead in a completely feminine manner.

She was sitting there reading the news when Kay finally appeared. Dee told her about fetching the paper and she was impressed with her ability to push past the fears. It was also a good thing, since they’d be going out again. She told Dee to go get dressed in something comfortable but not too casual, and she’d be up in a bit to critique her choices and give her a hand with her hair and makeup.

Dee could hardly believe it, but she tidied up her breakfast dishes and then did a quick sashay up the stairs. This was obviously some kind of test. She choked back her panic and tried to focus on the task at hand.

February in Los Angeles isn’t exactly winter weather, but it isn’t quite spring either. She looked through her closet and found a sweater dress that would probably work nicely. It was a sort of vanilla color, calf length with a loose cowl neck and long sleeves. When she touched it, she discovered the softest thing she’d ever touched. It was probably cashmere, or at least a silk/cashmere blend.

It might be the softest sweater in the world, but it was still a sweater and she didn’t want to be itchy. So that probably meant wearing a slip under it. David’s grandmother always wore a slip under a dress, but Maritza only did some of the time. Dee guessed that this would be one of those times. She found a white lacy slip that seemed to be the right length.

What kind of shoes would go best with this kind of dress? She tried to rack her brain to recall all the fashion shows David had been dragged to. Nothing sprung to mind, so she took a different approach and looked through her shoe collection to see what was available.

There was a pair of boots that spoke to her. The heels were a little on the spiky side, but she was confident in her skills after all the walking lessons. They were almost knee-high, in soft, chocolate-brown leather. The idea of a vanilla dress with chocolate boots just made too much sense not to do it. She laid the dress out on the bed and stuck the boots in the bottom to see if it worked.

It needed something to tie them together. She poked through the closet and found a belt that seemed to be in the same kind of leather as the boots. It had a decent enough weight to it without being too wide. She tested it in her mockup and it did the trick perfectly.

She realized that even though her boots would probably be the only thing showing under the dress, it was probably a good idea to wear hosiery anyway. She selected a pair of suntan pantyhose for convenience.

Now it was time to get dressed. What was she forgetting? She had her nightgown off before she realized she hadn’t picked out any underwear, or lingerie, or whatever a girl is supposed to call her bra and panties.

Fortunately, Vanessa had followed Dr. Ben’s rules of no underwire or push-up bras when she assembled Dee’s wardrobe, so there was nothing in her drawers that she wasn’t allowed to wear. She didn’t think the dress showed much cleavage at all, so she picked a pretty pink lace full coverage bra. To be properly dressed, she looked and found a matching panty.

The panties went on easy, but then she had to slowly replay her lesson in how to put on a bra. The first time it was much too tight, and her boobs complained loudly. With the straps and hooks adjusted properly, it was much more comfortable. She pulled on her padded girdle and tightened her waist cincher, and then slid her hose up her legs.

The straps on the slip adjusted just like on a bra, but when the cups lined up with her breasts it fit like a glove. She pulled the dress over her head and made sure her arms were snug in the sleeves. The realization hit her that she’d forgotten to put on deodorant, so she found her little floral roll-on and snuck it in through her neckline to do each underarm.

She sat on the bed and zipped up her boots, and buckled the belt around where her female waist was pretending to be. She stood up and checked the mirror. It seemed to come together nicely. Other than hair and makeup, what did her outfit need? There was a purse in the closet that matched her boots, so she grabbed that although she didn’t know what to put in it.

The last step she needed to do was pick out what jewelry to wear. She thought maybe a simple gold pendant would go best in the wide neck, and she found a plain gold circle that would work, but she had to switch it to a shorter chain. A pair of wide hoop earrings coordinated with that the best. She didn’t like the look of putting a bracelet on with the long sleeve, so she kept her wrists bare, but she put on a few gold rings to give her hands some sparkle. Her right hand got a twisted knot on her ring finger and a sparkly crystal on a heart-shaped setting on her index finger, and her left hand got a filigree butterfly on the middle finger.

She called to Kay and told her she was ready to be judged. Kay looked her over and said that she did an admirable job. Dee was one of the easiest students she’d ever had; she already had many very well-honed female instincts, and so far no male attitudes that needed to be exorcised. The only change she made to Dee’s look was to add a watch bracelet. They had an appointment where it would be important to be on time.

Before doing Dee’s makeup, Kay had her go wash her face and make sure the wrong-colored lipstick was all off. She had her sit at her vanity table and showed her how to drape a towel over her shoulders to keep any powders that might fall from messing up her dress. Kay took a pair of tweezers and radically plucked Dee’s eyebrows into a beautiful, feminine arch, and then used a pencil and a comb to give them more definition. In their delicate new shape and without the projecting bone behind them, there was nothing even remotely masculine remaining.

Even though they were slightly behind schedule, Kay made Dee do her own makeup, talking her through every step. She started with a little bit of concealer under her eyes, and then a light coat of foundation all over, followed by a translucent powder to even the texture. Kay remarked that she wouldn’t need any of the “special tricks” she usually had to teach her clients; Dee could have the same makeup routine as any genetic female. They were doing a little more than the average woman used in the daytime, but only because of the nature of their appointment, which she wouldn’t expand upon.

Applying eyeliner was scary. She had to almost poke herself in the eye with a sharp little pencil. The magnifying mirror made it a little easier, but her hand was still nervous and shaky. The first line she did came out a little uneven, and Kay made her wipe it off and try again. The eye makeup wipe removed some of her earlier work and she had to reapply concealer, foundation, and powder to the area. She asked Kay if she could wait until she got the eyeliner right to fix the other stuff, but she said it would encourage her to try harder.

It took two more attempts to get the left eye done, but the right eye was good enough on the first attempt. The only tricky part about mascara was getting the wand at the right angle. She made a few marks on her eyelid, but fortunately they hadn’t done eye shadow yet, so removing them didn’t mess up anything else.

That was next. Kay had pulled a palette of browns and beiges for her eyes from Dee’s outfit. There was a real art to blending the shades, so Kay did one eye for her and had her copy it on the other side, one step at a time. When they were finished, her eyes didn’t look familiar at all.

The trick to applying blush was finding the right spot on her face. Kay told her it was something that takes even natural women a while to learn, if like Dee they don’t have strongly defined cheekbones. She had to make an exaggerated smile to help in locating the “apples” of her cheeks, and then give them a quick stroke with the brush.

Finally, she needed to put on some lipstick. Kay corrected her color choice from earlier by going with a darker tone. Dee thought she knew how to apply it: just purse your lips and draw on the red part, then smack them together. But Kay showed her how to do it using a little paintbrush instead of directly from the tube, to have more control over the shape. She did get to kiss a tissue like they always show women doing when they put on lipstick in movies.

With her makeup done, they had to think about what to do with her hair. Kay took off the elastic and helped Dee take it out of the braid. It came out slightly damp and with a little more wave to it. Dee wanted to just wear her hair down, but Kay said she needed to keep her hair off of her face and couldn’t hide. She found a nice leather hair slide and pulled her hair back and off of her face while still letting it hang loose in the back. She teased her bangs a little and said that would have to do.

Kay showed Dee that they’d already everything that David had had in his wallet into a ladies’ clutch that she could put into the handbag she’d picked out. Then she told her what else to put in there, like enough of the cosmetics they’d just used so that she could refresh her look, and a brush and comb and a spare hair clip to fix her hair, and some tissues, and her keys, and a bottle of clear nail polish in case she got a run in her hose, and her sunglasses, and her pain pills, and a bottle of hand sanitizer, and a tampon just in case.

“Just in case what?”

“In case you’re in the ladies’ room and someone asks if you’ve got one.”

“The ladies’ room? Isn’t that illegal? I don’t think I’ll be in there.”

“Relax, D. You’ll do fine. With your pretty face and nice figure, no one will think you don’t belong in there.”

“But my voice is too deep.”

“We’ll start your voice lessons this afternoon. In the mean time, just don’t try to say too much. Try softening your voice to just above a whisper, and no one will think you’re strange. Think of Bea Arthur. Genetic women don’t all have high-pitched voices.”

“If you say so.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll be with you the whole time, and I’ll do most of the talking for us.”

Dee was still very nervous, so Kay had her use the bathroom before they left, to make needing a trip to the ladies’ less likely. David’s car was in the garage, so she didn’t have to feel self-conscious about walking outside again. Kay showed Dee the way a woman gets in and out of a car in a dress, and had her practice a few times. She didn’t want to throw too many things at her at once, so Kay drove.

Their first stop was at a branch of David’s bank. Kay told Dee to walk in and use the ATM, and withdraw a couple hundred dollars. She would have left her purse in the car if Kay hadn’t reminded her. She showed her where in the little clutch wallet inside in the big bag her ATM card was, and where the bills would go. She took a moment to close her eyes and center herself, checked her reflection in the vanity mirror, and then got out of the car, swinging her legs around just as she was taught.

She slung her bag over her shoulder and sashayed into the bank. An older man in a business suit coming out held the door for her, and she smiled and murmured a thanks. He turned his head to watch as she passed, but she didn’t notice. The ATM was already in use by a little old lady, and there was a young guy in jeans and t-shirt waiting behind her. She got in line and waited.

Kay had never explicitly taught her how women stand, so she had to figure it out based on her lessons in walking and getting in and out of chairs. Her main problem was that all her posture training said she needed to stand up straight and hold her head high, but she really wanted to look down at the floor and avoid eye contact. She wasn’t sure what a real woman would do when forced to stand and wait, so she tried to think of ways to seem busy.

She pulled out her compact and checked her makeup, dabbing a little powder here and there. She really wished Kay hadn’t taken away her phone, or she could pretend to call someone. She tried looking across the bank to where the tellers were, to see if there was something to seem interested in. She finally settled on grabbing a pamphlet about mortgage rates from a display not too far away, and attempted to seem fascinated by it.

After a while, she got that creepy feeling that she was being watched, and looked up to see the guy in front of her was staring at her. Oh crap, he knew! She needed to get a grip on herself before she had a panic attack. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Ok, so this guy had figured out that she was a crossdresser; what had he seen, and could she keep him from telling anyone else?

She opened her eyes, and the guy wasn’t staring anymore. He was actually looking away and seemed kind of embarrassed. Something in his expression and body language seemed familiar, and then the realization hit her — she hadn’t been read; he’d been caught checking her out! It was the complete opposite of what she’d feared. This guy had been imagining her naked, and she was sure that his mind’s eye saw a vagina between her legs and nothing more. She smiled to herself and shot him a wink and pointed at the ATM. He’d been so enthralled with her that he hadn’t noticed it was free.

He chivalrously said that she could go ahead of him. She smiled, thanked him, and did her sexiest walk up to the machine. It was hard to concentrate on her banking knowing full well that he was probably looking at her ass the whole time, but she managed to pull it off without a hitch. She pulled out her clutch bag and removed her ATM card like she’d done it a thousand times. There was a slight bit of awkwardness when she realized that with her longer fingernails she had to hold her fingers parallel to the keypad instead of perpendicular, but she didn’t mess up her password or anything. She put her money and receipt and her card back in her bag, turned and walked out.

Feeling mischievous, she looked back over her shoulder and waved to the guy who’d been watching her wiggle. He turned beet red and she let out a little laugh. She opened the door and backed into the car like she was supposed to, and then let out a great exhale of relief and allowed herself to shake from all the accumulated nervous energy.

She told Kay how it went, and she said that Dee had done an excellent job, and that she really had nothing to worry about. Dr. Ben had done great work. As long as she kept her clothes on, no one would ever suspect that her panties packed a surprise. The only “tells” that remained were a few subtleties in the way she moved, that they’d be working on, and her voice if she were to speak up, but intensive training for that would be starting as soon as they’d finished their errands for the day.

She did give Dee a warning that she needed to be careful about flirting with or teasing strange men, like she had in the bank. Some guys mistake a smile for a proposition, and might try to pursue her. But as long as she kept her contact brief, and in public places, in the light of day, she should be safe. Since she lacked a genetic woman’s lifetime of experience that helps her tell the creeps from the decent guys, she’d be extra vulnerable to predators. Kay tried not to be too scary, but the “all men are potential rapists” school of thought has saved more women than “innocent until proven guilty.”

They drove off in silence, as she’d given Dee a lot to think about. She was still in something of a state when they reached their second stop, a cute little bakery in the middle of nowhere. This time Kay got out of the car with her, and they both went into the shop.

The woman behind the counter was about as tall as Kay, but stockier, and probably a little older. There was a hint of olive in her complexion, and maybe a touch of gray in her long black hair, which was pulled back in a bun under a hairnet. She wore a long white chef’s apron over a blue dress.

Kay greeted her like an old friend. “D., this is Jackie, baker of the best cupcakes in the county.”

Dee waved and mumbled, “Hi.”

“Jackie, this is D., my latest disciple.”

Jackie looked her up and down with wide eyes. “Oh, really? I never would have guessed.”

She knew the kind of work Kay did; she knew what Dee was! Dee wanted to run away and hide somewhere.

“Don’t worry, Honey. I’m not the enemy. I’m a graduate of Miss Kay’s tutelage myself.”

Now it was Dee’s turn to be surprised. Jackie was a man pretending to be a woman, too, or a woman who used to be a man, or whatever the right distinction is? David had never met a trans-anything before, as far as he knew, and now he not only was one but there was another only a few feet away.

Jackie could tell. She’d seen that look before. “Am I the first of the sisterhood to meet you since your coming out?” She took off her disposable gloves and came around to the front to give Dee a big bear hug. “Welcome to the club, Sis! You listen to Kay; she knows what she’s talking about.” She gave Kay an embrace, as well. “It’s nice to see you again, too. So are you just taking her out into the world, or are you here on business?”

Kay sighed. “Business, unfortunately. She’s got an appointment with Loretta at 11:00. We’ll need the usual dozen red velvet cupcakes with cream cheese icing.”

Jackie went back behind the counter and filled a pink box with their order. When Dee paid for the cupcakes, she handed her a business card. “Feel free to call me if you’re having any trouble adjusting and need someone to talk to. I wrote my cell on the back. But a pretty girl like you ought to have no trouble passing. I only wish I looked half as good as you.” Dee thanked her, blushed, and put the card in her purse with the change.

Kay only gave a partial explanation of what was going on as they drove to their next destination. Dee needed a photo id that matched her look better than David’s driver license, just in case. She didn’t plan on taking Dee anywhere that would need her to show ID to get in, or shop at any pretentious stores that would claim to need ID before accepting a credit card, but for legal protection it was a good idea to officially update the photo on file. Sometimes cops can be jerks, and if somehow one asked her for ID and she didn’t look anything like the picture, he could take her in for committing fraud by pretending to be someone she wasn’t.

So they were going to get her an ID, and Loretta was someone Kay knew at the DMV. She was going to do them a favor, and in exchange they were going to “accidentally” leave behind their box of cupcakes when they left the office. They wouldn’t be doing anything illegal, so she didn’t need to worry. Technically they were probably bribing a government agent, but no one worries about those kinds of technicalities.

It turns out the DMV office they needed to get to was in Glendale, so it was a bit of a drive. Dee tried to get some more information about what to do or say, but Kay told her to just relax. They were doing this before any vocal training because Dee would have to speak in her natural voice as part of proving her identity to Loretta, but that wouldn’t happen out in the open in public.

When they got there, they didn’t have to stand in the usual DMV line from Hell, since they had an appointment. Loretta was a sassy little black lady who had a giant smile when she saw Kay. Kay had already filled out the forms ahead of time, and showed her David’s original ID, and a letter from the doctor, and gave her word, which was good enough for Loretta. All she asked Dee was whether this information was correct, and Dee tried to sound as “David” as possible when she said yes. It must have been good enough, because it made Loretta look twice.

She walked Dee over to a workstation where she stood in front of a curtain while Loretta worked a camera. Dee made a little smile and tried not to blink, and thought she took a pretty good picture, but Loretta took an extra one, “just in case something went wrong.”

It turns out something did go wrong. The first time she printed the data for the card, the computer was acting funny and only printed the first initial in the box for the first name, and it left the box for gender completely blank. Loretta didn’t catch the mistake until after the card went through the laminator. She thought they might get a kick out of it and showed them the bad card at the same time she was giving them the good one that said “David” and “M” like it was supposed to. She’d be taking the bad card to the shredder later.

Loretta piled the Identification forms Kay had given her on the table, and she suddenly noticed the time and gathered them up quickly and told Dee they had to hurry back to the city or they’d be late for their next appointment. Dee thanked Loretta and followed Kay quickly out to the car.

Once they were on the road, Kay handed Dee the paperwork and told her to sort it. Son of a gun, that bad ID card had gotten mixed in with the others! She must have swept it off the table with the other stuff. And wouldn’t you know it, but she couldn’t remember what happened to the box of cupcakes. She recalled that she didn’t want to leave them in the car where the frosting would have melted, but she couldn’t picture where she left it.

With the official story out of the way, Kay told Dee to use the “D” card for things like getting into clubs or using a credit card, but to always use the “David” card if a cop ever wanted identification. The other one wasn’t exactly legal, but it wasn’t exactly illegal either — nothing on it was false; it was just incomplete. But cops don’t like gray areas.

She drove them out to an old vacant shopping center. It had a nice big parking lot, and that was where Dee was going to learn to drive in heels. It shouldn’t be too bad since her car was an automatic, but it would feel very different from how she was used to driving. Kay told her that some women keep an extra pair of flats in the car and change their shoes for driving, and then swap back when they get where they’re going, but she didn’t believe in giving her students that kind of a crutch.

Between her higher heels and her posture lessons, Dee was sitting in a very different position than usual, and she had to adjust everything: the mirrors, the distance from the seat to the dash, and the angle of the seat back. She put on her sunglasses and started the engine. It was all about learning how to put the right amount of pressure on the pedals with her spiky boots on. At first she was very jerky, erring on the side of braking too quickly, but after a while she was comfortable doing laps in the parking lot and Kay told her to try to drive home.

She was nervous and a little too cautious on the city roads, and had some trouble getting onto the highway until a nice guy let her merge. She gave him a little wave, and asked Kay if that was appropriate. She said that was fine, and she could even go so far as to blow a guy a kiss for being nice on the highway, since there were so many road ragers out there spreading a little more love couldn’t be a bad thing.

Back at home, Kay had her go up and change out of her waist cincher and girdle and come back down. She’d need to be able to breathe freely. Kay had set up a special DVD in the living room that would teach her how to change her voice to something more feminine. The presenter was a trained speech therapist who was also a transsexual, so she really knew what she was talking about.

It wasn’t going to happen quickly, either. The lessons were a series of steps, and only after completing them all would she end up sounding like a natural female. Because it wasn’t healthy to put too much stress on the vocal chords, she could only do one step a day.

It started simply enough by learning about how the voice works, how the various features of a voice are generated by the breath, and voice box and in the mouth. And the instructor talked about the differences between male and female voices. She then went on to the first practical lesson, which was about breath control. Dee followed along, and thought she was doing a decent job.

It was kind of weird sitting and talking to a television with Kay sitting there watching her. She didn’t say anything until the lesson was over, when she pointed out some ways Dee could improve her technique, and they made sense. After dinner she did the lesson again and Kay said she was definitely on the right track.

Her day had been so nerve-wracking, she ended it with another relaxing bath, only this time she opted for a book instead of a fashion magazine. Kay gave her a choice, and she went with the classic Pride and Prejudice.

Oscar Night by Jennifer Brock David Fine, a bestselling novelist and Oscar-nominated screenwriter, was sticking up for an insult directed at his friend fashion designer Claude Marsh when he made a flippant comment to an annoying television personality agreeing to show up at the Academy Awards ceremony in a gown instead of a tuxedo. He was convinced that it would be far less embarrassing to attempt to appear as completely and fully female instead of just looking like a man in a dress. To that end, he's had some facial surgeries as well as a sizeable pair of breast implants. Dee, as she's been calling herself is under the tutelage of Kay Thomas, a feminine deportment coach Claude hired to give her a month-long crash course in how to be a woman. In this installment, Kay helps Dee try to figure out what kind of girl she is.

Part 15
Dee’s second day of voice lessons went much the same as the first. After breakfast she had to put together a casual outfit for herself. There was a bit of a chill in the air, so she started by picking a nice-looking fuchsia twinset with a camisole and cardigan in a soft knit. To go with it, she selected a denim skirt that turned out to be shorter than it looked on the hanger. It came to about eight inches above the knee, but she really didn’t feel like looking for a replacement so she kept it. For shoes, she went with a funky pair of wedge-heeled sandals with crisscrossing leather straps.

Kay had two comments about her wardrobe choices. First, she said that only much-younger girls could get away with the “visible bra strap” look, so if she was going to wear that camisole, she should switch to a strapless bra. Dee tried to protest that the cardigan would cover her straps, but Kay worried that as the day got warmer she might take it off, and then her fashion faux pas would be glaring.

When Dee had taken her top off, Kay noticed that it had a built-in shelf bra, so she wouldn’t need one. Dee had thought that internal elastic was just to make it fit better. Even though Kay assured her that it would provide enough support, her breasts felt much more loose and bouncy without a real bra.

Kay’s second complaint was that Dee hadn’t worn sandal-foot pantyhose. The visible reinforced toes of her nylons were unacceptable. Dee just hadn’t realized there was that much difference in hosiery. To make it worse, once she had the wrong hose off and Kay was looking at her feet, she decided that her toenails needed a new color, so Dee had to stop and give herself a pedicure. She did horribly on a few of the smaller toes and had to strip off the polish and start fresh. Of course, new polish on her toes needed new polish on her fingers to match, and Kay naturally made Dee do it all herself. It took a while, but she was satisfied with her new shiny nails. They were a cherry color that worked with her top without being too matchy.

Kay then led her through applying her makeup. For a casual daytime look, she had Dee use powder but not foundation, and mascara but not eyeliner. She chose a rose eye shadow and didn’t have her do all the complicated layering and blending that a nighttime look would need, and kept the color strictly to the upper eyelid. Kay made Dee pick out a lipstick color, and approved when she went with a soft pink that was the same shade as her nails, but paler and not quite as bold.

After thinking about hairstyles, Dee asked if she could try a simple ponytail. Kay helped her find a scrunchie that was almost the same color as her top, and showed her how to put it on. David had worn a ponytail many times, so there was a slight familiarity to it, but at the same time it was very different. Instead of gathering the hair at the nape of the neck, the feminine style was to gather from the middle of the back of the head, which gave the ponytail more bounce and character instead of just lying flat. Also, the hairdressers had put more body into her hair so it flared out from the gather much more than it had before, and better resembled the tail of an actual pony. But the most striking difference was in the hair that couldn’t be gathered. The bangs on her forehead and the delicate wisps that framed her face created a look that was undeniably female and, she’d have to admit, even cute.

She wanted to go with fun pieces of jewelry, and started with a pair of gold hoop earrings, and echoed them with a handful of gold bangles on each wrist, and a couple rings on each hand. She tried to go with a simple double-strand chain necklace, but Kay pointed out that the sharp angled line of a pendant would work better with her neckline than the soft curve of a chain. Dee looked through her jewelry box and picked a pretty gold butterfly that had crystals (or diamond chips?) on its wings. The line of its chain did work better with her top, but it also seemed to focus glittery attention right between her boobs. Kay told her that wasn’t a problem; Dee needed to learn to be proud of her “assets” anyway.

The rest of Dee’s morning entailed going through a speech lesson off the DVD, as Kay pointed out mistakes she’d made, offering suggestions on how to do better. Her voice still had a long way to go, but she was close to getting the right pitch. Dee wanted to keep working at it, but Kay warned her that pushing too fast could strain her vocal chords and ruin the whole thing. They took a short lunch break, and even though Dee was the one making the meal it almost felt like a break, since the crockpot had been cooking their soup since the day before, and even though she baked fresh sourdough breadsticks to go with it, they were fun to make.

After lunch, Kay had Dee work on her penmanship. She had to practice writing “D. Fine” in as feminine a manner as possible, over and over again until her wrist ached. When she got to the point where she could consistently make the flourished curlicues on the capital letters and always dot her I with a little circle (Kay thought a heart would be too much), she got to sign the back of the credit card for “D. Fine” that had arrived in the mail.

Then it was time for another scary venture out in public. Dee put her clutch wallet, with her new credit card in it, into the shoulder bag that worked the best with her ensemble. She tried to claim that the weather called for a jacket, but Kay could tell that she was just trying to find a way to hide her chest and said no. She even suggested that it might be a nice enough day that she’d be taking off her cardigan and walking around in just the cami. Kay made Dee drive this time and she was glad she’d chosen wedges that day instead of spike heels.

They went over to the Galleria in Glendale, and Kay explained that the theme for the day was “Persona.” Dee’s mission for the day was to work on what kind of image as a woman she wanted to project to the world. Who was Dee? To that end, they were starting at the fragrance counter in Nordstrom’s. Every woman has a scent; what would Dee choose for hers, and what would that say about her personality?

She was nervous, but Kay did most of the talking, and the salesgirl was very helpful. They sniffed several samples. At first, Dee was tempted to choose Maritza’s favorite, Jean Paul Gaultier Classique, in order to have a reminder of her at all times, plus it came in the world’s sexiest bottle. But Kay had done her homework and declared that one off limits.

For a while she was leaning toward the epitome of glamour, Chanel No. 5, but it just seemed like too boring a decision. In her best soft voice she asked the girl to suggest something exotic, and ended up becoming captivated by Ralph Lauren’s Notorious, a spicy fragrance with a hint of musk. Kay thought it was a bold choice, but it did seem to work well with Dee’s body chemistry. The salesgirl talked her into adding a matching lotion, and didn’t blink or ask for ID when Dee used her credit card. She smiled and wished them a nice day as she handed Dee the fancy shopping bag.

Kay had come prepared. They stopped off in the ladies’ room and she pulled some cleansing wipes out of her purse to remove all the extra sample scents from Dee’s arm, and then she had her apply her new perfume properly, with a few strategic spritzes and then a walk into a cloud. Dee liked her new scent; it really helped her feel feminine. She didn’t even think to worry about being in the ladies’ room until they’d already left.

They browsed for a while, so Dee could get the feel for the female shopping experience, where you do a lot of looking but no actual buying. It involved a lot of walking around, stopping every so often to look at a particular article of clothing, feeling the fabric, and even pulling out a hanger to hold up a garment in front of you, even when you have no intention of purchasing it. It was more exercise than Dee had had in a long time.

She was grateful when Kay then took her through the mall to the food court. They got a couple skinny cappuccinos and sat at a table where they could watch the shoppers going by. It turned out to be another lesson.

“You’ve been using your walks interchangeably,” Kay began, “switching them at random. That’s not the way to do it.”

Dee got defensive. “It hasn’t been arbitrary or anything. When we were shopping I was doing the sashay in the stores when we saw something interesting because that’s the slowest, and doing the strut between stores because it’s fastest, and using the glide inside the store between departments because it’s faster but not too fast.”

“That’s where you’re making the mistake. The difference in the walks isn’t speed, but attitude.”

Dee gave a confused look. “I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”

“Maybe an example will help. See that blonde in the pink capris down by Fredericks? Watch how she’s moving. You automatically form an impression about her personality, that she’s the kind of girl who doesn’t take crap from anyone, and that’s all just in the way she walks. If you look carefully, you’ll see that she’s doing a variation on your basic catwalk strut. She’s not in a hurry so she’s going slower than when you do it, but the deliberate stride is still there, as well as the cocky angle in her hips.”

“Wow. I didn’t realize.”

“I know. That’s why we’re here. It’s easier to show you than to tell you what I mean. Now since you’re on an abbreviated timeline, we didn’t do all twelve walks. But the three you’ve got cover the most important archetypes.” She looked over to make sure Dee was still following her. “Have you heard of the ‘Madonna/Whore Theory?’”

Dee nodded. “Freud, wasn’t it? It had something to do with men not wanting to fall in love with women they have sex with, and vice versa. Are you saying if I walk one way I can make a man fall in love with me, and if I walk another way I can make a man want to have sex with me? Well, that’s only two walks. What’s the other walk for?”

“Hey, you’re stealing my speech! I keep forgetting that I’ve read your books and can tell you’ve studied almost as much about human nature as I have, and you have much less of a typical clueless male mind than my usual clients. Yeah, you’ve got the gist. But I open up the picture wider than Freud. It’s not just men that you project a persona toward; it’s everyone. When you sashay, it announces that you are The Whore. Your defining characteristic is sensuality. It says to a man, ‘Play your cards right and I’m yours.’ It says to a woman, ‘I am comfortable in my body, and I know what makes it feel good — want me or want to be me, and keep your man on a short leash.’ You really should save that walk for when you want to make a statement to bring out lust or jealousy in someone. Unless you decide that the persona you want to project most of the time is all about sex.”

“I see. I never really thought about what the way I walked said about me.”

“Now on the other side of the coin is the glide. That’s for when you want to be The Madonna. Here, the defining characteristic is grace. It’s for when you want to appear to move effortlessly, and in a full ballgown you can even seem not to touch the ground. You can evoke beauty without seeming sexual. It’s like how a ballerina can wear a tiny skin-tight leotard but her performance is not as grounded in animal physicality as a dancer in a basketball halftime show. You can transcend earthly things and carry yourself as an angel or goddess. It says to men, ‘Aspire to deserve me.’ To women, it’s more ‘Aspire to become me.’ I could see that as working well as your usual walk. It would fit well with that whole June Cleaver / Donna Reed thing you’ve got going on at home.”

Dee wrinkled her nose. “What thing is that?”

“The sort of natural way you easily fall into the role of hostess or housewife. You want to make all who come into your home welcome and contented. I meant it as a compliment, really.”

“Well then, I suppose I should thank you for your kind words.” Dee smiled and fluttered her eyelashes a bit. “So if the sashay is for whores and the glide is for madonnas, who is the strut for? I don’t think Freud had a third category.”

“That’s what makes my worldview more complete than deal old Siggy’s. When you use the strut, it says to the world that you are The Bitch. You’re all about confidence and independence. It says to men, ‘You will need to work hard to earn a chance with me, so don’t waste my time with tired lines and worn-out moves.’ It says to women, ‘I am better than you, and you know it.’ And basically it just says to everyone that you really don’t care what they think about you. If you want to project a strong persona, you could use that as your default walk. So take some time to think about who you are, or actually more who you want the world to think you are. And make sure to keep that in mind when you’re planning your big debut on national television.”

“Well, based on all that I can tell you I’ll be doing a strut when I walk down the red carpet past that annoying Jane Waters.” Dee laughed. “I’ll have to think some more on who I want to be in general.”

“Good idea. But remember that it’s not about who you are on the inside as much as it’s about how you’re perceived.”

Dee leaned in and shifted to more hushed tone. “Of course. I mean, after all who I am on the inside isn’t really female.”

Kay replied with a conspiratorially whisper of her own. “Are you so sure? Although you should be thinking not in biology terms of male vs. female, but rather in psychology terms of masculine vs. feminine. And as I’ve gotten to know you there are many strong feminine aspects of your personality, and personality is in that space between identity, how you see yourself, and persona, how you let others see you. But if things are getting into an uncomfortable realm for you, psyche-wise, it might help if you treat this whole thing like some of my acting clients do. Take your strong sense of self, your core identity, including how you view your roles and attitudes with respect to gender, who David is, and push that down inside. Sublimate the actor.” She made a fist with her left hand. “Then on top of that, you create the identity of the character.” She covered her fist with her right hand. “What is Dee’s identity, as a female, including all her gender roles and attitudes? You may be more comfortable compartmentalizing that way. Then when you have a firm grasp of your character, there’s another layer.” She pulled her fist out from under her hand, and then waved her left hand in the air above her right one. “And that’s persona: who does Dee let the world see her as? Now 90% of what we work on, how you walk and talk and dress and do your hair and makeup is in this space here, but you need to keep in mind what’s underneath, to make sure that this persona is believable and consistent and appears grounded in something.”

Dee nodded. “That makes sense. I’ve done something similar when developing characters in my writing, but it feels more intense when it’s not just in the abstract. I’m glad you’re here to keep me on track. I seem to be creeping close to a meltdown every so often.”

“That’s okay. A lot of my clients go through crises of identity; it’s not unusual.”

Dee reached out and touched the side of Kay’s hand. “I know you’re being paid for this, but you’re a great comfort, and a good friend. Thank you.”

Kay pulled her into a hug. “You’re welcome. That’s very sweet of you, and definitely what the Madonna would say.” She smiled at her student.

They sat around people-watching for a little while longer, and Dee had to identify elements of her walks in women passing by and show how the movements related to their attitudes. Kay said she did a good job, and deserved to be rewarded. However, her “reward” was to go shoe shopping, that quintessentially female activity. Kay said that she needed more experience feeling like a woman in public, and nothing else could do that as well as trying on pretty shoes.

Dee said she was nervous and afraid of being found out, but Kay just made her take her cardigan off and put it in the shopping bag with her perfume. With her impressive chest on display, it would announce her womanhood to the universe for her. She felt very vulnerable, but as a woman, so in a weird way that worked.

A creepy guy in Bakers who seemed to enjoy touching her foot a little too much, measured her and said she took a 10  ½ medium, which meant she had to try on both a 10 and 11 in every style. And for each pair of shoes, he’d kneel down and help her get them on, trying to sneak a peek up her skirt when he wasn’t focused on her reaction to the air conditioning.

Dee was growing weary of pretending to be excited about shoes when she tried on a pair of burgundy faux-alligator peeptoe slingbacks that she actually liked. They were fun, and about as comfortable as a shoe with a three-inch heel can get, and she really thought they made her legs look sexy. She told Kay those were the shoes she wanted, and Kay agreed that they were fabulous, but she had the guy but them back anyway and they left the store.

Dee was confused. What was the point in spending all that time looking for something you weren’t going to buy? Kay had to explain the intricacies of shopping to her. You only pay full retail price for a pair of shoes if you have a special occasion that urgently needs them. Since you’ve already picked them out ahead of time, you’re ready to snatch them up if the store has a sale, and you can get them faster than someone else who has to wait for the assistant so she can try them on first. You are allowed to go back to the store every so often and try them on again, and if the need to own them becomes so great that you can’t wait for a sale, you just need to invent an urgent reason. But as there were plenty of high-end designer shoes at home in Dee’s closet that she hadn’t even worn yet, these would be remaining in the store. If she did exceptionally well on a future lesson, they might come back to let her buy them.

When they got home, Dee got her first free moments alone all day. She had to check her implants and massage her breasts with the lotion that was supposed to prevent stretch marks. She still wasn’t used to the strange feeling of getting to second base with herself, and she was glad the anti-libido tea was keeping all this fondling from turning her on. She smiled as she wondered what thirteen-year-old David would say if someone told him some day he’d be able to touch boobs any time he wanted to. He probably wouldn’t even care if you said they’d be attached to him; boobs are boobs.

She wanted a little more support than the shelf bra had provided, so she wrestled her puppies into a sexy black bra and then called down to Kay to see if it was okay for her to change. She agreed but turned it into another exercise, and told her to put together a professional look, as though she’d been working in an office all day. Dee sighed and went to the closet.

A half hour later, a smartly dressed businesswoman came down the stairs. She wore a light periwinkle blue silk blouse under a charcoal grey jacket that matched her knee-length pencil skirt. Just a hint of white lace peeked from under her hem as she crossed the room. Legs sheathed in off-white pantyhose ended in sensible black pumps with a chunky heel. Her hair was pulled back into a bun secured by a pair of decorative black lacquer chopsticks. Shiny black discs hung from her earlobes and a string of matching discs was around her neck. Her makeup was expertly done: flawless foundation, just a dab of blush on the apples of her cheeks, a smooth blending of natural tone eye shadows, a thin tracing of eyeliner, a generous brushing of black mascara highlighted her features perfectly. But the eye was immediately drawn to the strong maroon color on her lips, which perfectly matched the shiny new coat of polish on her nails.

Kay applauded and made her do a catwalk turn to show off the full effect. David had spent so much time immersed in the fashion realm that as a woman she had very good taste and excellent skill at putting an ensemble together. Kay was having a much easier time with this client. Dee looked a little too good to just stay in for the night, so Kay went up to room and got dressed up herself, and they went out to a three-star restaurant like two glamorous executives having a dinner meeting. (Kay couldn’t find a vacancy at a four-star.)

Kay called a cab and told Dee that Claude had bankrolled an expense account for her, so she didn’t need to worry about paying for their meal. Dee was worried, but more about being discovered than about money. They had a little time, so she reviewed the morning’s voice lesson. She still didn’t sound completely authentic, but she had a breathy whisper that was passable.

To continue the theme of the day, Kay made Dee adopt a persona for the evening to see how well it fit. Unfortunately, her decision was that Dee’s partial voice would work best as a sultry temptress, so her assignment was to employ her sexy sashay as a flirt and a tease. Kay would be there to make sure none of her targets went too far, so she told her to try to have fun with it. She undid the top two buttons of Dee’s blouse and said she could start by playing with the taxi driver.

However, their cabbie turned out to be an elderly African-American gentleman who just chuckled when Dee tried to smile and flutter her eyelashes at him. She even tried leaning forward to give him a better view, but it was a dud. When they got to the restaurant, Kay gave her credit for trying but told her to try again with the waiter if they got one.

Even though they were on time, their table wasn’t ready yet, so the hostess had them wait in the bar. Dee tried making eyes at the bartender, as she told him they’d been working all day on a project and she was ready to cut wild. He smiled back and said she was mashing her expressions together; she could either go wild or cut loose. Dee made her best attempt to giggle cutely. The only real satisfaction was when she knew his eyes were glued to her swaying behind when the hostess came to lead them to a table.

Dee tried a few double entendres with the waiter when ordering her appetizer, but he didn’t seem to be noticing no matter how obvious she made her comments about wanting something juicy in her mouth. Kay was struggling to keep from laughing, though. When he had gone, she expressed the opinion that he was just a little too flouncy to be straight. But she said that meant Dee had done an even better job. She was so convincingly female that her oral teases were ineffective on a gay man, and they usually have pretty good trannydar.

Maybe that relaxed her enough, or maybe it was the bottle of Chardonnay they were splitting, but she did get flirty enough to noticeably inhale when the busboy came by to fill their water glasses. It was cute when he spilled a little because his eyes were watching something other than the pitcher. Dee had so much fun she made sure she needed a couple refills.

To go with her dessert, she mistakenly ordered a fancy coffee off the cocktail menu instead of a regular one, and left the restaurant fairly tipsy. This time their cab driver was a buff young Latino, and he chivalrously gave her a hand getting out of the car and walked her up the front steps. She thanked him with a big, wet kiss on the lips and nearly tried inviting him in before Kay stepped in, paid the man, and apologized for her friend.

Later that night, Dee learned that California fusion cuisine does not look nearly as fancy after being partially digested. Despite Kay’s best efforts at preventive remedies, Dee still woke up the next day with a monster headache and a queasy yet hungry stomach. After a very bland breakfast she still wasn’t in the right state of mind for the morning’s lesson, so Kay blended up a special herbal tea for her and sent her to soak in the tub for a couple hours.

By lunchtime the throbbing in her skull had faded, but vague memories came flooding in that filled her with mortifying embarrassment. She told Kay that a flirty, sexy persona was not for her, and she’d want to try a different one the next time. On the plus side, the involuntary washing of her throat in stomach acid seemed to help improve her awareness, and she was finally able to find a feminine pitch. But for the same reason, Kay thought she should take it easy and didn’t have her repeat the day’s voice lesson like she usually had her do.

To keep busy for the rest of the day, Kay gave her some instruction on body language, particularly the language of flirting. She protested that she wasn’t planning on doing a lot of flirting, so this lesson wasn’t really necessary. But Kay insisted that it was an essential part of being female; she needed those elements in her vocabulary of gestures if only to get out of a speeding ticket. Kay led Dee through learning three different ways of crossing her legs, five ways to play with her hair, six things to do with her hands, and four different cute smiles and coquettish ways to move her eyes and look at someone without looking like you’re looking.

Oscar Night by Jennifer Brock When novelist-turned-screenwriter David Fine was first nominated for an Academy Award, he wore a red tuxedo provided by his best friend, fashion designer Claude Marsh. An obnoxious TV presenter told him that if he wanted color he should be in a gown, and he agreed. He's been nominated again, and Claude assembled a whole cabal of people to help David make the ultimate impression in his gown. David's girlfriend, bisexual model Maritza Delgado, was on board with the idea of making him as feminine as possible. To that end, he's had major facial surgery and been implanted with a spectacular pair of breasts. David, or Dee as she's been calling her female self, has been working with his live-in feminine deportment coach Kay Thomas hired by Claude for a couple weeks now, and has been making good progress. In this chapter, our girl Dee practices flirting, and has an interesting naked experience. (Note: to the couple of readers I'd told what was going to happen in this chapter, my muse had different ideas, so I had to postpone that until the next one.)

Part 16
One morning, Kay told Dee to put together an outfit that best represented the “Beverly Hills housewife” look. She thought about it and decided that the key was in the accessories. She found a pair of sunglasses with large, round smoky lenses that went from dark at the top to lighter at the bottom, and thick, white plastic frames with gold accents on the sides. That seemed to fit the uniform for most upper middle class women in Southern California.

To pass as a housewife, she’d need to look married. That would mean wearing a ring on her left hand. She rummaged through her jewelry box for a ring that would fit on the right finger and appear to be a wedding ring or engagement ring, or both. She found a ring with a large oval blue stone in a setting surrounded by little sparkly white ones that seemed like it could do the job. Dee wasn’t sure if it was an actual sapphire and diamonds, or if it was costume; either way would have made sense for Claude to have done when putting together her wardrobe.

There were some earrings in the same style as that ring that would coordinate well with it, but she didn’t think a real housewife would always try to match her wedding/engagement ring. She found a fun pair of retro-looking earrings with dangling squares, circles and triangles in black and white plastic that kind of went with her sunglasses, and a chunky bracelet that kind of went with them.

She decided that she was the kind of housewife that dresses to be noticed, so she selected a bright red dress. It was relatively lightweight cotton, so she wore a full slip beneath it. It was sleeveless, with a low scoop in the front that would have been too embarrassing for her to wear at the beginning of her womanhood, but made her feel sexy at this point. She helped accentuate her cinched-in waist by putting a thick, shiny black belt on top of her dress, and the full skirt made the most of her padded hips.

Dee repainted her finger and toe nails in an attention-seeking fire engine red. Since she had her girdle on, she used its garters and went with stockings instead of pantyhose, in a fairly neutral suntan color. A pair of kitten-heeled black peek-a-boo pumps went on her feet and she picked out a black purse with a nice long shoulder strap.

She styled her hair simply, using a silky white hairband just to get it off her face. With her makeup, she went for a little more of a night look than she would have otherwise, starting with a base of concealer, foundation and powder. She fully lined her eyes in black eyeliner with a thin, crisp line. A liberal coating of black mascara went on her eyelashes and two shades of pink eye shadow were blended on her lids. A hint of blush on her cheeks, and then she finished it off with a bright red longwearing lipstick with a glossy topcoat.

She applied a few spritzes of Notorious in strategic locations and did a twirl before the mirror. Satisfied that she was the right degree of hotness she’d been aiming for, she sashayed down to the living room. Kay was impressed, and said she’d captured that competitive upper middle-class look splendidly. Her only suggestion was that Dee might want to throw a black silk shawl over her shoulders in case there was a nip in the air, but otherwise she could very easily pass amongst the natives as though she were one of them.

Kay said that they’d be going grocery shopping and told Dee to write out a list of what she needed. Normally David just worked from a mental shopping list, but Dee figured that it was just another exercise in feminine penmanship. She checked her pantry for what staples were running low, and planned out what she wanted to cook for the following week and noted which ingredients would be needed.

They got in the car and Kay had Dee drive. She had her choice of going to David’s usual grocery store where things would be familiar, or a new place where she wouldn’t have to be nervous about being recognized or of acting like people should know her. Dee chose the new place, so Kay had her drive out to an upscale market in Sherman Oaks.

The shocker came when Kay asked to be let out at a Starbucks down the street from the grocery, and said that this was to be Dee’s first solo outing. Kay thought that environment should be a comfortable one for her, since she was such a culinary virtuoso. She was to go into the store and not come out until she’d bought everything on her list, but if something went wrong she could call Kay and she could come to save her.

Dee had to take a few deep breaths in the car before she felt comfortable enough to drive on to the market. Her heart was racing and she glanced down and saw that she had the clichéd “heaving bosom,” and that made her chuckle a little. Her two friends down there really were unmistakably female; there was very little chance anyone would be suspecting her secret identity. Calming, she flipped down the sun visor and checked her makeup in the vanity mirror. She smiled and blew a kiss to her smoking hot reflection, then closed the mirror and put the car into drive and pulled out of the parking lot.

At first Dee was a little worried she was overdressed, but then she saw some of the other ladies getting out of their luxury SUV’s, and they had hair that looked fresh from the beauty parlor, and outfits that seemed couture if not at least designer label. And they radiated sex just as much if not more than her. Some of them also had their implants proudly on display, others were showing a lot of leg, and some unwisely chose to show midriff in fashions that would have been more appropriate for girls twenty years younger.

Dee opted to leave her shawl in the car. She felt that it detracted from her look. However, she regretted that decision as soon as she closed the car door. There was indeed a slight chill in the air and she could feel her nipples becoming erect almost immediately. She was sure that they’d be visible through her clothes, an irrational fear for certain since she was wearing a bra with light padding and a full slip under her dress, plus her nipples weren’t as large as a natural woman’s to begin with. But nonetheless, she was sure that everyone in the parking lot could tell she “had her high beams on.”

She wanted to run into the store as fast as possible, but she knew that wouldn’t be appropriate for her female persona. She carefully got her reusable canvas grocery bags from the trunk, and then did a brisk but still sexy sashay over to the market. One of the workers, a teenage boy was just returning a load of carts when she got inside, and he pulled one out of the row for her and even wiped down the handle with his cleaning cloth. She smiled and thanked him, and it took him a few seconds to blink and remember to breathe. Dee was beginning to enjoy all the attention her new shape attracted.

She did feel comfortable and confident in the grocery. Kay was right; it was her element. She knew a use for almost every ingredient in the place, and that made her feel more successful as a woman, ready to feed and nurture her family. She knew what she was talking about when she asked the butcher to cut her some thicker pork chops, (he was a sweet older man who actually flirted back) and she even showed one of the other women shopping in the produce section how to tell if an artichoke is fresh.

Remembering that her doctor had said she wasn’t supposed to raise her arms above her head, Dee had to get a stockboy to help her get a cereal box from the top shelf. When he’d climbed up there, he turned to ask her if he’d gotten the right one and took a serious look down her dress. She moistened her lips a little and hungrily told him that was exactly what she wanted. He nearly fell off, and she noticed that he seemed to have some difficulty walking away. She thought she could see something pushing against the front of his smock, but it might just have been her imagination.

Dee was getting a real kick about being an object of male attraction, and only when consciously thinking about it did a little place inside David’s mind find it disturbing. These lessons in thinking of herself as a woman were working amazingly well. She gave the nice bagger who helped her get her groceries out to her car a peck on the cheek. She laughed at the foolishness of men and wondered if she’d ever been so easily led around by a pair of shapely breasts back when she was a man.

All in all, it was a great experience. She’s gone out in public, alone, and hadn’t felt the slightest bit insecure about being found out. She had been accepted as a woman unquestionably, and it really started her feeling like this whole thing might actually work.

***

Dee’s voice lessons were proceeding nicely. The more feminine she sounded, the more confidence it gave her, and the more comfortable she felt in her persona. Talking to strangers face-to-face, she had the advantage of her extremely female appearance. The various guys who had conversations with her cleavage never imagined that the person they were talking to wasn’t completely a woman.

Kay kicked up the difficulty by having her talk to people over the phone, where she couldn’t assert her femininity by jiggling her big boobs. A couple of times she was mistaken for a young boy, but some work to add a melodic lilt to her tone kept that from happening again. After a couple days working at it, she was consistently called “Ma’am.”

She called Vanessa, who didn’t even recognize her voice. Kay said to ask her for a special cocktail dress; she said that Dee was ready for a major milestone and she needed something special to wear. Vanessa asked if the ban on underwire bras was still in effect, and Dee didn’t know. She had to conference-call Evelyn, who also didn’t know who she was at first, to ask. She said that underwires were still out, because her implants hadn’t settled into their final location, so the bra would be trying to make them curve in the wrong shape. Vanessa asked if a custom underwire made to fit Dee’s breasts exactly would be okay, and Evelyn said it would. Dee then passed the phone to Kay, and she talked to Vanessa about their schedule, and they made a plan to go into the design studio after hours the following evening.

David had visited Claude’s workshop before, but always during regular working hours when the place had been full of people. It was spooky being there at night all alone, almost like a ghost town. Vanessa led them around to a workroom in the back. There was a wooden platform in the middle of the space with holes in it every so often, and some of them had metal pipes coming up out of them. It looked like some strange piece of industrial art.

Vanessa handed Dee a pair of shoes and a folded piece of clothing and directed her to a screen in the corned of the room, telling her, “Take off everything you’re wearing except your earrings and put these on. Even your underwear. Don’t worry; I cleared it with Dr. Coleman that it would be okay for you to go braless for a little while so we could do this.”

The garment turned out to be a silk kimono-style robe, a pretty print of hummingbirds on a black background, with stylish pink ribbon trim. It was very short, and she was grateful to be taped and tucked in place since otherwise things might have been hanging below the hemline. The shoes were strappy sandals with wedge heels that must have been at least five inches high. There was a circular hole through the wedge that almost made it look like a separate heel shoe.

It took a couple minutes for her to find her balance when she stood up from the little stool she’d been sitting on. After a few cautious small steps, she got her rhythm and executed a perfect supermodel strut over to the others. It was a different kind of feeling as her breasts bounced with every step, free from any kind of support.

Vanessa took her hand and had her step up onto the platform. She had her stand with her feet a few inches apart and her arms a little away from her sides. She took some measurements: the distance between her ankles, the height of her elbows from the floor, the length of her forearms, and then sent her off to a bathroom, telling her to go even if she didn’t have to, as it would be her last opportunity to do so for a while. Dee was a little confused but did as she was told.

When she got back, the pipes on the platform had been rearranged. She stepped up and returned to the approximate position she was in before. Now she was standing between two vertical pipes, and there were T-shaped things clamped to of them horizontally halfway up or so. Vanessa showed her that the tops of the T’s, which were padded with some kind of foam and covered in soft fabric, were for her to rest her forearms on. She fiddled with the clamps for a bit to get Dee’s arms into the position she wanted. Then she tied her arms to the boards with some kind of soft rope so she couldn’t move them. It was tight, but not painful.

Then she ran another pipe through the holes in Dee’s shoes. There were spacers like the clamps they use on barbells that kept her feet a fixed distance apart, and then a couple more clamps went on the outside of her feet so they couldn’t move at all. Then that pipe got attached to the uprights, and she was locked in place. It was scary, but kind of exciting being completely secured.

Vanessa explained that in order to make perfectly form-fitting clothes for her, she’d been instructed to make a casting of Dee’s body. She usually would have used a couple of assistants to do this, but since her situation was a Top Secret project, it would take a while. And to get a good mold, Dee would have to stay in position, and that’s why she needed to be attached to the frame. She twisted Dee’s hair up on top of her head and put a hairnet on her.

There was one more thing. She needed to be nude to get the best resolution. Vanessa pulled the ribbons on the sleeves of her robe, and the seams across the top came unlaced and she was naked to the waist. Dee twitched as she instinctively wanted to cover her breasts, but she was helpless. Vanessa untied the robe’s sash and it fell to the floor.

Vanessa let out a little wolf whistle and said she couldn’t get over how sexy a woman Dee had become. She took new measurements at her bust and waist and hips, pulling the tape extra tight. Then she noticed something and went over to her work table. Dee could hear water running, but couldn’t see what was happening.

Vanessa came back over with a few implements on a tray. She said there was one change she’d need to make for the casting to go smoothly. She dipped her washcloth in a bowl of warm water and ran it over Dee’s little pubic patch of hair. After spraying it with shaving gel, she ran a little razor over the area, first down, then up, dipping it in the bowl frequently. It was an extremely intimate act, and Dee was sure she was blushing everywhere.

Vanessa apologized and warned her that she’d be really itchy down there in a couple days, and that she ought to be obsessive about cleansing the skin in her bikini area in order to avoid painful ingrown hairs as they grew back. Dee asked if it would just be easier to keep shaving, but Vanessa told her that the stubble wouldn’t be as scratchy if she got a wax instead. Dee thought about maybe just going back to the laser place and getting it all off, or maybe trimmed a little narrower so she would look better in a smaller thong, or perhaps just get her square turned into a more feminine triangle.

Everything was ready. Vanessa rolled a work cart over, and started by running some metallic tape along the sides of Dee’s body from her underarms to the middle of her thighs. She said this was where the seam in the mold would be. Tape also went across the top of her shoulders and a little way up her neck. Dee blushed again when she ran the last section of tape around the inside of her thighs and across the tape she already had there. At least now all those parts were doubly-safe from popping out.

For the next step, Vanessa asked if Dee had any nut allergies, and she said she didn’t but it seemed like a weird time to ask that kind of question. She then took a spray bottle and started misting her all over with what she explained was peanut oil. This was to keep things from sticking to her too much. She worked it into the tighter crevices with a paintbrush.

Vanessa poured two kinds of stuff into a little pail and stirred it with a wooden spoon and made some blue liquid that kind of looked like paint. She started pouring it onto Dee’s body, covering her in a thin layer of this substance that dried into a kind of rubbery second skin. When Vanessa got to Dee’s nipples, it felt surprisingly good, and she involuntarily let out an embarrassing little moan. When her bucket was empty, Vanessa mixed up another batch and continued until Dee was completely blue from shoulder to mid-thigh.

Vanessa told her to look on the bright side; the casting would be of her whole torso with just a bit of her arms, legs, and neck. Sometimes they had to do the whole model from head to toe. She mixed a second coat thicker, and it was green instead of blue. She said this was so she could make sure she got it everywhere. The second coat also took longer too apply, and she was putting extra amounts in places where the mold would need more support.

The first work cart was rolled away and a different one brought over. Now Vanessa covered the rubber stuff with wet strips of cloth infused with plaster, as though Dee had broken every bone and needed a body cast. She asked if Kay wanted to help, since this part didn’t require as much precision, and she agreed since it looked like fun.

As the plaster strips went around her abdomen, Dee had to breathe more shallowly. She felt like some kind of cross between a mummy and knight encased in solid armor. The plaster gave off heat during its curing process, and she was glad to have the insulating rubber layer underneath.

Finally, after standing there for what felt like days and was probably at least hours, it was time for the mold to come off. Vanessa used a frightening little spinning cutting blade on the end of a rotary tool to cut through the plaster, promising that it couldn’t go through the tape on the bottom so Dee was perfectly safe. She had Kay stand behind Dee and hold the mold against her back while she cut. First she went down the sides, making a wavy line along the edge that she said would help with lining up the sides of the mold.

Then she very carefully cut along the seam between Dee’s legs, and tried to make a joke about offering to turn her female completely while she was down there, but it wasn’t funny even if Kay did laugh way too loudly at it. She finished off by cutting the seam at the top of each of Dee’s shoulders, and had to make sure she was supporting the plaster with one hand while cutting with the other.

As Kay kept the back half in place, Vanessa delicately pulled the front of the mold away from Dee’s body. It was weird to see what half of her body looked like in plaster form. After setting the first half aside, she relieved Kay of her burden and got the other half of the mold. Dee was surprised to be still covered in rubber, but Vanessa said it had to come off in two phases. The plaster was just the structural casing; the rubber stuff was the actual mold.

The cutting saw had marked the rubber, but hadn’t cut it completely, so Vanessa had to use a special knife to go back over the lines. Dee was grateful that she didn’t try to make that joke again when she had a knife close to David’s future children. When she was done cutting, she had to slowly peel the mold off, taking care not to tear it.

If it went wrong, they’d need to make a new mold. Dee really didn’t want to have to go through this process all over again, so she tried to help by staying as still as possible, but when her protective rubber sheath came off she was naked again and really really wanted to cover up. When both the front and back pieces had come off, Vanessa untied her hands and she could put the robe back on. (Its sleeves had been laced up again.)

Her shoes were freed from their harness, and she could finally move again. Her joints were so stiff from standing in place that she needed help walking. Vanessa guided her to a shower area she could use to clean off. She was still pretty wobbly, so Vanessa thought she still needed supporting. She pulled off her t-shirt, unzipped her jeans, and slipped out of her bra and panties faster than it took Dee to realize what was happening. Vanessa just shrugged and said it was only fair; she’d just seen Dee naked, and besides they were both girls.

Vanessa had a great body. Her breasts were not as big as Dee’s, but they were proud and perky and had thick, dark nipples that seemed exotic and mysterious to her. Vanessa’s rear end was magnificent. It was almost heart-shaped. Dee was just glad she’d been taking Kay’s special tea, so all she felt when looking at it was envy. Her narrow hips and flat buttocks just weren’t feminine enough.

She was really glad for the tea when Vanessa started washing her with a special solvent to get the tape off, and it also loosened her regular adhesive tape and Dee’s genitals came untucked. Her penis twitched a little when Vanessa cleaned the adhesive off of it, but fortunately did not become erect. She tried to apologize, but Vanessa just shook her head and said it wasn’t a problem. Dee was sure though that she had revenge on her mind when she was being extra thorough in deeply cleaning the oil and residue out of every crevice.

The hot water combining with the way Vanessa was rubbing her brought Dee’s legs back to life and she was able to stand on her own to finish the shower. Vanessa moved on to bringing feeling back to her arms and she was finally able to hold the soap on her own. She took off her hairnet and leaned back into the water stream, not caring that she’d be washing off her makeup and all she had in her purse were a lipstick and a compact. It just felt too good.

If that kind of pain from standing in place for hours is what models go through every day, she had a newfound respect for Maritza and her friends. That wasn’t a useful train of thought, so she shook her head a few times under the water to try to think about something besides missing her girlfriend. She wasn’t supposed to be thinking about any aspects of David’s previous life. But even behind an impressive bust, Dee’s heart still knew who it loved and wanted to be with more than anything. She figured that maybe if she cried in the shower Kay wouldn’t notice and get mad at her.

Vanessa looked at her funny, but figured it had just been a stressful day and leaned in to give her a hug. Embracing a naked woman without so much as a stirring downstairs was a strange sensation, and she just had to laugh when their boobs smooshed together. The laughter was infectious, and by the time they’d finished and gotten dressed again, it was a pair of giggly schoolgirls that returned to Kay.

Oscar Night by Jennifer Brock Nearly a year ago, Novelist/screenwriter David Fine was nominated for an Academy Award and wore a red suit designed by his friend fashion designer Claude Marsh. Unfortunately, television personality Jane Waters chose to make David's outfit an object of ridicule, and in an attempt to save face he joked that he'd wear a gown if he was nominated again. When he was indeed nominated a year later, Claude seized upon David's defense of his honor and pushed him to embrace the idea of wearing a gown, and his girlfriend bisexual fashion model Maritza Delgado was also keen to make him more feminine. He was talked into severalplastic surgeries on his face and breast implants, and he's been training with live-in feminine deportment coach Kay Thomas, who has renamed him Dee. In this installment, Dee learns a little more about the different kinds of men who dress as women, and where she fits on the scale. Also, the romance is brought back into focus, and Dee starts thinking about dating.

Part 17
Dee really hadn’t been paying attention to the calendar, so it came as quite a surprise when the doorbell rang one morning. She had to check the peephole to see if it was anyone who knew David, but it wasn’t. It was a guy in a uniform holding a large gold box tied with a red ribbon, no one she recognized.

She ran her fingers through her hair, checked her makeup in the mirror by the door and then opened it. The guy cradled the box in his arm and looked at a clipboard. “I have flowers here for a Miss Fine.” He eyed Dee hungrily. “Is that you? You certainly look like a fine miss to me.”

Dee laughed at his little joke. “Yes, that’s me.” He handed the big box to her. “Thank you very much.” She had to dash back inside to grab her purse to give him a tip.

He turned to go and winked at her. “Wish I was the guy you’re really going to be thanking later for those. Happy Valentine’s Day, Miss Oh So Very Fine!”

Oh no! It was Valentine’s Day, and Dee had completely forgotten. She swore at herself and took the box to the table. Inside was a pretty pink envelope inscribed “To Davida from Mauricio,” and a dozen long-stemmed red roses wrapped in tissue paper. They had greenery and baby’s breath, the whole nine yards. It just made her feel bad she hadn’t gotten anything. She got out her best crystal vase and trimmed the stems, then arranged them all nicely and set the vase in the center of the dining table.

Kay came down and asked who was at the door. Dee gestured at the vase like a spokesmodel and showed her the flowers she’d gotten from “her boyfriend.” Kay said they were very nice and asked if there was a card. Dee had been so caught up in getting the roses into water that she hadn’t even opened the envelope. It was sitting over on top of the tissue paper in the empty box, and she stole a glance at it. Kay started moving in that direction, but Dee was faster. She snatched up the envelope and opened it.

There was a whole sheet of stationery in there, a letter not a card. It was printed in a script font from a word processor. She wondered if the florist had typed it. It read:

“My Darling Davida,

It is sad that we must spend our first Valentine’s Day apart, but know My Love that in my heart I am there with you. I hope you are working hard at your lessons since your teacher is being so strinct and keeping us separated. It won’t be too much longer until we can see each other again, so hang in there, Sweetheart!

I wonder if you have had to go out with other men yet. I know it’s not perfect, and since you have my absolute permission maybe you can use them to be close to me. When some other guy is gazing into your eyes, imagine that mine are looking back at you. Pretend that it is my voice whispering sweet nothings in your ear. Make believe that mine are the arms that hold you tight, mine are the fingers that caress you, mine are the lips that kiss you, mine is the tongue that softly suckles at your nipple, and mine is the thick cock that presses into you.

Oh, Baby, I miss you so much! I’m hard just thinking about you — are you wet for me? I think I’m going to have to take matters into my own hands if I’m going to be useful to anyone today. You’d better take a nap the day of your big party, because that night when I get you home alone for the first time, you’re not going to get much sleep! Your sweet pussy will be gasping for air by the time I’m done with you.

It’s only a couple weeks, so I’m sure we can last it. Be a good girl for your teacher and do whatever she tells you to. Don’t do anything too crazy, My Sweet Davida Loca. It’s okay if she makes you give your body to another man; just don’t give anyone else your heart. You belong to me, and don’t you forget that.

Yours forever and always,
Mauricio”

It was a weird letter, but after running it through her head and making all the appropriate substitutions, it left Dee with a warm feeling all over. It was nice to be reminded that someone out there loved her.

Kay gave her a look of disapproval and grabbed the letter out of her hands. “I told you to have no communication with her. It was a nice attempt that she tried to keep it appropriate for your feminine persona, but came across more as an encoded message than a sincere sentiment. I’m sure you had no trouble reading between the lines. This will count as one of the two times you’re allowed to disobey me. You only get one more.”

Dee was hoping she could save up those two times she was allowed to say no to Kay to avoid having to go out on dates with men, something Kay had mentioned would be part of her training, and that had been mentioned repeatedly in this letter. It was almost as if Maritza would be disappointed if Dee didn’t have a date with a man. So let Kay do her worst!

Dee stood up in front of Kay and put her hands on her hips defiantly. “I only get to refuse you one more time, or your lessons stop. And I understand that breaking your rule about contact counts as one of those times. Well, it’s Valentine’s Day, and my Sweetie just sent me some pretty flowers and a nice romantic letter, and I didn’t do anything. So I’m going to cash in my other Get Out of Kay’s Rules Free card, and go call her right now. And I’m well within the terms of our agreement.” Dee crossed her arms under her breasts and stormed out in a huff.

She went upstairs so she could get some privacy to make her call. David’s cell phone had been confiscated, and the cute little replacement phone they’d provided Dee with didn’t have Maritza’s number in her contact list. Fortunately, David had long ago memorized her number, so it was no trouble for Dee to dial her manually.

Wouldn’t you know it? The call went to voicemail. Dee’s one chance to make contact, and she’d blown it. In order for it not to be a total waste, she left a message, “Um, hi Sweetie! You might not recognize my voice. It’s me, Dee, I mean Davida, I guess. I got your flowers and they are gorgeous! Thank you so much for them! We had our own Christmas after Christmas, so maybe we can have our own Valentine’s after Valentine’s, too, and I can show you exactly how much I appreciate my roses. I’m not really looking forward to having a date with some guy, but if you really want me to pretend he’s you, I guess I can get through it for both of us. I love you, I love you, I love you! Oh, and by the way, I love you! You’ll probably be seeing Claude before I do, so could you give him a message? I gave him something to hang onto for me, and I’m going to need it back. Let him know that I’ll want that as soon as possible, preferably the first day I see you again. There’s something I’ve got to talk to you about. I suppose I’ll have to go now. I love you — did I say that already? I really hope it doesn’t feel like forever until I see you again. Bye-bye, Baby! Don’t try to call me back; I won’t be allowed to answer.”

She hung up and just sat there sulking at her bad luck. On the plus side, she had pretty flowers from someone who loved her very much. On the minus, she now couldn’t refuse anything Kay asked, and she was going to have to date men soon.

Just to make matters worse, Kay came up holding the letter. “This reminds me, I haven’t done anything about arranging an evening out for you with a gentleman escort. I think we’ll set that up for next week, okay?” All Dee could do was to nod her acceptance.

***

A few days after making Dee’s body casting, Vanessa came by in the morning bearing a garment bag with new clothes for Dee. There were a number of custom-made underwire bras with matching panties, as well as a handful of new dresses. One of them was the special cocktail dress she’d need for the occasion that evening that Kay still hadn’t divulged.

She had to wear special lingerie before she could try her dress on. First there was a special pair of black satin panties with special silicone padding in the hips and behind designed to fit her exact shape. It gave her a very sexy rear view. Snaps in the crotch let her use the bathroom without taking them off completely, which was necessary since they were so tight.

They had a high waist that came up to the bottom of her ribcage. Vanessa pulled on some strings in the back and showed her that it laced up like a corset and pulled her waist tight. She now had a perfect hourglass figure that was definitely worth the discomfort.

On top, she wore her first underwire. It was a black strapless longline, which meant it had much more band than usual in front beneath the cups and a thinner band at the bottom in the back considerably lower than a bra’s band usually sits. The cups were form-fitting but only covered her breasts to only slightly above her nipples, leaving much of the top and inner surface of each one bare. In between the cups the bra wire dipped down, to reveal the most cleavage she’d ever shown.

She had Dee pull sheer black crotchless pantyhose up her legs and put her feet into sexy black stiletto pumps. Then the gorgeous black cocktail dress came down over her head. From the front, it almost looked like a regular sleeveless dress, with triangles over the breasts that went up to become straps over the shoulders. The neckline did have a fairly wide and deeply plunging V, and the diagonal hem came above her knee on the right side to mid-calf on the left, but otherwise it could have been just another little black dress.

However, in the back those shoulder straps split into six thin spaghetti strands each, which radiated out and criss-crossed each other all the was down to her waist, making the dress virtually backless. Dee was overwhelmed by how it looked in the full-length mirror It was glamorous and maybe a little too sexy. She feared this was how Kay would be sending her to go meet some man, and it would send entirely the wrong message.

Kay wouldn’t get more specific, but she calmed her down by saying that the dress was for an evening they’d be spending together. Date night was still nearly a week away. Vanessa double-checked everywhere and declared the fit perfect. She stuck around to help her out of the outfit, and show Kay how tight to pull the lacings on her waist cincher.

Dee changed back into her casual outfit, but only got to stay in it until just after lunch. A man in a chauffeur’s uniform came to the door and said the car was ready. Outside was a big black luxury van, not at all what Dee would have expected. Kay handed the man their two garment bags and he hung them up in the back of the car, and then gave each of the ladies a hand climbing in.

Their first stop was a familiar one, Tom & Jeffy’s. It felt different to be coming to the salon in the daytime, while there were other customers. For the first time in a long while, Dee felt like a trespasser in the land of women, and wondered what the other beauty clients would say if they knew there was an interloper in their midst.

Kay gave her name to the girl at the counter, and they sat in the waiting area for a few seconds before Jeffrey saw them and came over to give them each an air kiss hello. He pointed at some kind of code in the appointment book, and gave the receptionist a tongue lashing for not telling him immediately when the VIP clients arrived.

They were taken in different directions. Dee didn’t know where Kay was going. Her own treatment started with a soothing facial that wasn’t as harsh as the last one she’d had, just more of a facial massage and a wet cleansing. It was one feminine treatment that was always enjoyable. It was her first since her surgeries, and she somehow seemed more aware of all the little changes to her features since her last facial. It made her feel more like she belonged there.

After that, this cute little blonde nothing of a girl took her hands and gave her a manicure and pedicure, rubbing soothing lotion into her hands and feet, and smoothing out all the rough spots. Jeffrey came by to help pick out a color. He said he’d seen what she’d be wearing, and recommended a deep wine shade that would work well with a shimmering topcoat. He was getting so involved in the description that he shooed Blondie away and did her nails himself. Needless to say, he did a flawless job and expertly made all ten fingers and toes sparkle divinely.

Jeffrey brought her out to Tomas, for more air kisses and a seat at a styling chair. He said that her color and set were holding up well, so all she was in for was a new arrangement and maybe a little trimming. He brushed and combed Dee’s hair back and gathered a low ponytail, then twisted it around into a chignon, and pinned it in place with some really pretty hairpins decorated with twinkly crystals on the end. When he was all done, he held up a mirror so she could see the back. It looked elegant but simple.

Dee was then led to another area, where Jeffrey did amazing things with her makeup. She’d gotten pretty competent at doing her own, but seeing what a pro could do showed she had a long way to go. Her foundation was flawless porcelain; she had cheekbones that appeared out of nowhere; her lips were full and plumper than ever and glistened wetly. But most noticeable were her eyes, which appeared three sizes larger outlined in jet black with long, plush lashes and with seductively smoky eye shadow on her lids. He’d plucked a few stray hairs and darkened her brows into delicately arched teardrops. She had to blink a few fluttery times before she could believe the image in the mirror was actually her.

She was brought around to a dressing room to change out of the smock they’d put her in, but she had to wait for Kay to help her get into her new clothes. She did as much as she could alone, which meant getting into her bra and panties. But she couldn’t do up the laces, so she sat in the little chair and hoped it wouldn’t be long.

Eventually Kay came in, and at first Dee thought it was someone in the wrong room and she got embarrassed and tried to cover herself. But it was Kay. They’d worked their magic on her, too. Her hair was looking a little blonder, and had been cut into a new medium-length asymmetrical pixie shag. Her makeup made her look years younger, and Dee had never before realized how blue her eyes were. They exchanged expressions of “Wow! You look incredible.”

Since Dee had started dressing, Kay decided to help her finish first. She pulled the laces way tighter than it seemed like then been before and tied them off. Dee worked herself into her hose and shoes and then Kay helped her carefully pull her dress over her head and zipped it up for her in back. Dee’s jewelry for the evening was a pair of rhinestone waterfall earrings and a matching triple-strand necklace.

Then it was Kay’s turn. She took off her smock and started removing her underwear. Dee tried to leave, but Kay told her to stay; she’d need to get zipped up, too. And she said that it would be strange for two women to share a dressing room and one to leave first. Dee just tried not to notice that Kay actually had a very decent body, even though she kept in covered up most of the time. And it was amplified by the lingerie she was changing into, a pair of tiny thong panties and a strapless bra that plunged just as much as Dee’s. She rolled on a pair of sheer stay-up stockings with black seams down the back and forced Dee to check out her legs to make sure they were straight. She was once again really grateful for the magic herbal tea that had killed her libido.

Kay’s dress was a little more modest than Dee’s. It was strapless, but didn’t plunge as low as hers, and only left her shoulders bare in back. It was a deep blue color that echoed her eyes, and had a slight metallic sheen that glimmered when she moved in it. She had some nice silver filigree earrings and a coordinating pendant perched in her cleavage.

They packed up the clothes they’d come in into the garment bag, and transferred the essentials from their larger handbags to more fashionable clutches and they were ready to go. They stepped out and Jeffrey made them do a twirl so he could get the full effect. He did a little hop and clapped his hands, and then the whole staff applauded. Tomas came over and looked at them critically. He adjusted the knot in the scarf on Kay’s shoulders so it hung differently. Then he loosened a couple of Dee’s hairpins and let some tendrils of hair escape from her bun, and he pulled out a cordless curling iron and turned them into interesting ringlets. It did improve her look; she thanked him with a light kiss on the cheek.

Their driver came and took the bag then brought them out to the car. Dee wasn’t sure if he’d been waiting in the parking lot the whole time or if he’d gone somewhere and then came back. Their next stop was the Four Seasons Hotel, which was confusing to Dee until Kay explained that they’d be dining in their restaurant. They pulled up to the entrance and the driver assisted the ladies in getting out of the van, and he talked with Kay about when she’d need him to come back.

The two lovelies in their cocktail dresses turned a few heads as they crossed the lobby to the restaurant. Some wondered if they were “working girls.” Kay gave her name to the hostess and asked if any of the rest of her party had already arrived, and she said they all had. She led them to a large table where four women were sitting.

At least they had been sitting. When the pair got to the table, the others stood up. There were a lot of voices at once, some squeals and hugs (with the faces leaning away so their makeup didn’t smear) over how good Kay looked. Dee even got a hug from one of the women, who turned out to be Jackie the cupcake baker. In an elegant green dress with her hair down and nighttime makeup, she didn’t recognize her at first. She told Dee she looked amazing.

Then it was time for Kay to make the rest of the introductions, and explain what was going on. She had a tradition of bringing a group of her former students together to meet each new one, and ladies were there to meet Dee, share their stories, and also provide one of the most critical eyes into her performance. They’d be watching out for any slip-ups, and provide pointers if she did something in a manner that was less feminine than it could be.

Next to Jackie was a more slenderly built brunette in a lovely burgundy dress. It was sleeveless with a square neckline that revealed just a hint of cleavage at the top, and a full skirt that was nearly ankle-length. Kay introduced her as “MJ,” and she delicately shook Dee’s hand, softly grabbing just her fingers.

Kay got the next one’s name wrong. She started to introduce her as “Elle,” but she interrupted. “As of last month, I’m Olivia. It’s legally certified and everything.” She was smiling broadly. Everyone congratulated her. She was taller than Dee, with a less generous figure, but the chocolate brown dress she wore helped to minimize her flaws. It had a contrasting pale tan band around the high waist that made her bust look bigger and her waist smaller, and the little cap sleeves made her wider shoulders less noticeable.

The last member of their group was loud. Bette’s thick body was squeezed into a bright red dress with a sweetheart neckline that teased without exposing anything of her breasts, which were roughly the size of Dee’s, but below her chest her body just looked a bit like a sausage in the tight dress. It was slit to mid-thigh on the left side, and her stocking tops were occasionally visible. She spoke in a loud, throaty voice and wore a very obvious wig that was nearly the color of her dress.

Kay told them all not to worry about prices, since Dee had a “Sugar Daddy” who was bankrolling her transition, and their evening would be covered. Dee didn’t really want to think of Claude that way, as it suggested he had sexual plans for her, but it made a convenient cover story, especially when they asked for details like where she bought her dress, or when they complimented her face and she said she’d gotten surgery but couldn’t say how expensive it was.

It came up because Olivia was curious about getting a similar procedure done — she did recognize the name of Dr. Coleman as one of the top guys in the area. Dee also had to blush when she admitted to getting implants, but she felt the need to reassure them that she hadn’t yet had any major surgery below the belt, and her mind wondered where that “yet” had come from.

She felt sorry that Olivia couldn’t afford the surgeries that she’d gotten on little more than a whim. She imagined that it must be horrible to be a woman stuck in a mannish body, and couldn’t decide whether she considered herself a man stuck in a womanish body, or a man happily gifted with a womanish body, or even a new woman determined to keep her remaining mannish parts. At any rate, it wasn’t fair that someone like her could pass so easily while someone like Olivia couldn’t.

Bette couldn’t pass either, but it didn’t seem like she cared. She kept staring at Dee’s chest. It was very off-putting. She also had a very dirty sense of humor. During their appetizer, she commented with a leer at Dee, “This dumpling is delicious, but I bet you’d taste even better! How about we sneak off to the ladies’ room and suck each other off?” Dee nearly choked on her wine and turned beet red, trying to politely decline the offer. Bette said she was only kidding, but then added with a wink that it didn’t mean she wouldn’t be interested if Dee was keen on the idea.

MJ apologized for Bette and wanted Dee to know that all part-time girls weren’t like her. MJ was so feminine that it was a surprise to learn that she lived most of the time as a male. She hadn’t even had any surgeries or taken any hormones. She had a family, and her wife (or should that be his wife?) knew about her need to express herself as a female, but was only accepting to a degree. She wasn’t allowed to be a woman in front of the kids, or to say anything about it until they were older. The wife was okay with talking to her as a woman, and they even occasionally had a “Girls Day” of lunch or a movie or getting pedicures, but she was expected to turn back into a man before getting into bed. She spoke longingly of the silky nightgowns she got to wear whenever the wife went out of town. It wasn’t a lifestyle that Dee would have chosen, but it seemed to work for MJ.

Bette didn’t have a wife, but she only dressed as a woman for fun, (and it also seemed to give her some kind of sexual thrill) and spent most of her time in “guy mode” as she called it. She said that it was too much hassle spending two hours shaving her complete body every time she wanted to be pretty, and the days of being stubbly all over that would follow were unbearable. Dee couldn’t really relate to the first part since she’d been lasered smooth nearly everywhere, but she had been recently experiencing itchy stubble every couple of days, as she’d been shaving her bikini area ever since Vanessa had done it for her bodycasting.

They chatted with Dee about her training, seeing how it was going. There were some questions that were a little uncomfortable, like when Olivia wanted to know when Dee first realized she was a girl. Dee didn’t want to admit that she still wasn’t quite sure whether she was one or not, so she twisted the truth a little and said that she’d never really felt like one of the guys, and had been more into cooking and taking care of her grandmother, and only recently someone (the guy Kay called her “Sugar Daddy”) pointed out that she would make a good woman, and she tried dressing up a little and really liked it. She claimed that she’d never been the type to do things halfway, so she threw caution to the wind and immersed herself in femininity as completely as possible. Kay just nodded as though she’d heard the story before.

Everyone was enjoying a glass of wine except Jackie, who stuck to water. She tried just smiling enigmatically, but after they gave her funny looks she took out her wallet and showed a picture of the cutest little baby! She explained that they’d decided that it was time, and using some sperm frozen from before her operation, her wife had a beautiful baby boy, and they were sharing the duties of nursing him. So she had to remain alcohol-free. She was congratulated by everyone at the table, and they all gushed over her. Dee was really confused, but didn’t think it would be polite to ask. Jackie had a wife when she was a man, who stayed with her when she became a woman? So, Jackie’s wife must be bisexual, like Maritza. Dee had so many questions she wished she could ask. If Jackie was married to a woman, why did she get the operation? She was a man who wanted to be a lesbian — wouldn’t the sex have been better back when their parts fit together?

Another odd moment came when MJ asked her what she liked the best about being a girl so far. That was a tough one, so she tried to laugh it off and say she liked the way that big boobs gave her power over the small minds of men. They all had a chuckle over that one, and the conversation somehow segued into talking about men. They found out from Kay that Dee hadn’t had her dating lessons yet, so they all began to reminisce about the time they each had their lesson.

Bette asked Kay, “Are you going to send her out with one of your usual escorts? Which one? Travis, I hope.” She got a dreamy look in her eye when she said his name.

Dee was curious. “What’s good about him?”

Olivia chimed in. “He’s got gorgeous brown eyes, and incredible shoulders. Your basic ‘Tall, dark and handsome.’ The complete package.” She had a bit of a twinkle in her eye.

Bette added, “Speaking of packages, you left out the best part. He is hung like a Clydesdale.” She fanned her face with her hand. “You see that monster coming at you and you think it’s going to split you in half, but once it’s inside you, oh my God, does he know how to use it!” She placed a hand over her heart, closed her eyes and exhaled, reliving a memory.

Dee thought Bette was just being over-the-top again, but a couple of the others were nodding and agreeing with her. She felt herself starting to panic. No way did she want sex with some guy!

Kay saw her look and responded. “I think I’ll probably go with Joe for her. He’s a little more her speed.”

Dee nervously asked what Joe was like, and MJ said, “He’s tall and handsome, but not dark, with tawny blond hair and sharp gray eyes. He’s strong and muscular, but not built like a linebacker, so he doesn’t seem so dangerous. He’s a great dancer. I think you’d like him.”

Dee was confused. “I thought you said you have a wife. She lets you have sex with guys?”

MJ laughed, “Sweetie, the dating lesson isn’t about sex; it’s about having a man treat you like a lady, proving that chivalry isn’t dead for everyone. There’s nothing better at making you feel like a complete woman than having a lovely man lead you on the dance floor. If at the end of the date you want to reward him with the most feminine action you can perform, that’s up to you.”

Kay agreed. “Dee, the men I hire for my students dates are not gigolos. They’re simply hired escorts, and none of the services they’re paid for are sexual, so just relax. It’s not for another week or so anyway.”

They finished their meal and a second bottle of wine, and split some yummy desserts, and Dee thought the evening was over and she was ready to say good night to them all. But it turns out that it was just beginning. It also explained the luxury van. When they returned to the car, all six of them got in. It was a little cozy, but the air of pleasant camaraderie continued from dinner. Kay gave the driver an address and they drove off.

They went to a part of the city Dee was unfamiliar with, and pulled into the parking lot for some kind of industrial building repurposed as a night club. The large pink neon sign declared the place to be called “LADYWOOD.” The driver turned his head around and asked if Kay was sure this was where she wanted to go; it was some kind of gay place. Kay smiled widely and assured him that it was exactly the right place.

Dee could actually tell how quickly his brain was putting things together, as he looked over the group of women and noticed that none of them was what could be called complete, and maybe he noticed something less than feminine about Bette or Olivia, and he physically shuddered when it all came together. Kay seemed to notice, too. She made sure that the driver would be returning when scheduled, and told him she’d much rather give him a large tip at the end of the evening than have to complain to the company. He got the message and even held the door to assist them all stepping out of the van.

Bette couldn’t resist and had to tease him on her way out. “You’ve probably already guessed that not all of us have vaginas, but the ones without aren’t the ones you’d suspect!” He didn’t have much of a response to that. She kissed him on the cheek and did a surprisingly perfect sashay from the van to join her companions. Kay gave her a reprimanding look, but Bette just shrugged and said, “At least I said ‘vaginas.’” The group erupted in giggles.

Kay explained that they were at a drag club, a place where men dress as women to entertain. Besides just being an appropriate place for this group to go for fun, she also wanted Dee to see the other side of the coin, as it were. The others she had met so far were men becoming women, but inside the club were men pretending to be women. Dee didn’t quite understand the distinction, but she went in with an open mind.

The bouncer at the door was a huge, muscled, well-tanned Latino with bright pink lipstick that matched his taffeta ballgown. He seemed to recognize Kay, and gave her a warm hug. He said they were on the list, and waived the cover charge. Inside, they were escorted to a table by a “hostess” dressed like a geisha, in stark white makeup, gigantic fake eyelashes, an extra-short pink kimono that revealed miles of leg, and high-heeled sandals. The table was semi-circular and they sat around the curved side. The straight edge was pointed at the stage at one end of the room.

The waitstaff were all dressed as over-the-top female sexual stereotypes. Besides the geisha, Dee saw a French maid, a cheerleader, a naughty schoolgirl, and a leather-clad dominatrix roving about the room. Their own waiter was dressed in a familiar uniform of a white tank top and orange hot-pants, only instead of an owl the overstuffed top was emblazoned with a different bird, and the name of a fake restaurant called “Peckers,” and a nametag over the left giant breast was appropriately labeled “Booby.” His makeup was overdone, with more fake eyelashes, retro blue eyeshadow and glittery pink lips. The canary-yellow wig was in a feathered hairstyle, and the eyebrows tweezed down to nearly nothing.

In a voice that was more that of an effeminate male than a female he said, “Hi! I’m Bobby and I’ll be your server for this evening. What can I get you ladies?” Bette ordered a glass of whatever light beer was on tap, Olivia wanted a white Russian, Jackie had a Virgin Cosmo, MJ asked for a vodka tonic, Kay went with a martini, and Dee wasn’t much of a drinker so she just ordered a white wine. Bobby wrote their order down and sexily wiggled off to the bar.

Dee made a major faux pas and remarked, “He looks really good. That’s a very impressive tuck, even in those little shorts. No lumps at all down there.” Kay corrected her that it was bad form to use “He.” She should always refer to people with the pronouns that match the gender they are presenting as, even if you know their biological gender might contradict that. It’s rude to do otherwise. The exception was with butch lesbians. If you see someone who seems female but presents as male, but you don’t know for certain that he’s a female-to-male transsexual, refer to her as female. Although really Dee should try to steer clear of those types, since militant feminists sometimes feel very negatively toward transsexuals of either variety.

Bobby brought their drinks and a basket of complimentary pink French fries. They were strange and a little too salty for Dee’s taste so she didn’t eat too many. Bette made many rude gestures with them. Bobby asked if there was anything else they needed before the show started; she’d only be able to come back between acts. Bette talked Kay into going ahead and having her bring another round, so they’d be ready as soon as their glasses were empty. They’d had so much wine with dinner that Dee was starting to worry that maybe they’d end up getting drunk, and she really didn’t want to lose control in public, especially in a dress that was so revealing. She concentrated on trying to remain feminine.

The show opened with a big dance number by a bunch of boys dressed like Vegas showgirls with huge feathered headdresses and tiny outfits that were well designed to cover only the areas that needed padding. They did some fancy choreography to a reworked “Hooray for Ladywood” song, and at the end they formed two rows and the MC emerged from between them. She was an older drag queen, in an auburn wig and a blue evening gown covered in sparkly crystals with a panel at the top that was made to look sheer but probably wasn’t. She stepped forward and the curtain closed behind her.

She introduced herself as “Jewel Tucker” and apologized that her partner hadn’t shown up for the show. She worked the crowd and told a few easy jokes and then music started up and she broke into song, but something seemed off. Dee realized that she had a different voice when singing, and sounded almost exactly like Doris Day. Dee asked about it during the break, and learned that she’d been lipsynching to a record and not actually singing. Apparently that’s what a lot of drag acts did.

After the break, Jewel’s partner, a tall black performer in a slinky red dress, who called herself “Heidi Johnson,” came out and apologized for being late. That segued into a whole comedy routine about how she wasn’t just late, she was also “late,” and she really didn’t want to have to deal with getting another abortion. So she was so grateful when finally while she was just backstage her Aunt Flo came to town, but it was really heavy this time so it took her a while to come out. She went with the red dress instead of the white one she’d bee planning to wear, just in case.

The audience was laughing hysterically at all this, but Dee didn’t quite understand. Kay had just stressed that you’re supposed to treat someone presenting as female as a legitimate woman, but the humor in Heidi’s act all seem to come from the fact that the audience knew she wasn’t really one. It didn’t make sense to laugh at her for being less than real, but since she was encouraging them she supposed it wasn’t too cruel.

Dee figured out that this was probably the real lesson Kay wanted her to learn: Dee would be in much the same position as Heidi when she made her public entrance, since the whole point was that everyone would know she was really David. The danger was that she’d be just as much of a laughing stock. She needed to seriously consider how she was going to behave on the Red Carpet. Would Dee act completely feminine and try to confuse Jane Waters, or would David wink and “let her in on the joke?” It was heavy stuff, and would take some thinking.

During the next break, Dee went to the ladies’ room. Bette got up too, which made Dee worried that she was going to try something. Fortunately, Jackie and Kay came along as well. There was a little bit of a line, but not much. This was the first women’s restroom Dee had ever seen that had urinals as well as stalls, and some of them were even in use. But that didn’t seem right to her; she waited for a stall. Bette went to the urinals, but Dee didn’t look. She washed her hands and checked her makeup in the long mirror while she waited for her friends. There was a wide array of women of all genders standing with her, and she casually looked around and confidently declared herself to be definitely more believable than most cross-dressers, but perhaps that was because she’d become something more.

There were some more lip-synched musical numbers and jokes, and the dancers came back a couple times, and then it was time for the final performer, “Amanda Skies.” She had a decently augmented figure, in a purple sleeveless gown that was cut so modestly that Dee couldn’t tell if her curves came from padding or implants or hormones. She had long brown hair cascading down her shoulders, and her makeup didn’t seem quite as extreme as the others.

The music started and she began her song, a cover of “What a Girl Wants,” but it was sung in more of a contralto range. Dee couldn’t figure out why she wouldn’t just use the original version of the song, until the ululating part near the end, when it became clear that Amanda was actually singing herself, and doing so with a voice that sounded authentically female. The audience gave her a well-earned standing ovation. She did an encore of “If I Was Your Woman,” a song Dee wasn’t that familiar with. The curtain opened behind her and the dancers gyrated sexily to the music, and Jewel and Heidi mouthed along with the pre-recorded backup singers. It was a perfect finale to the evening.

Kay paid their tab and left Bobby a big tip, and then rang the driver on her phone to make sure he was ready. The ladies, some quite drunk all got back into the van. Bette, MJ, and Olivia were going back to the hotel where they’d met. Dee said it was nice to meet them and she’d get their contact info from Kay and call or email them, but she’d be really busy for the next couple of weeks. They dropped Jackie at her home, which was an apartment above the bakery. She said the baby was about due for a feeding, so she’d try to get to him before he woke his mother. Dee gave her a little hug on her way out.

By the time they got home, Dee was exhausted. She just wanted to collapse into bed, nearly forgetting that Kay had to help her out of her clothes. They unzipped each other, and she got Dee’s corset unlaced and she could finally breathe again. There were red marks all around her waist from the boning. She headed off for the shower, but Kay reminded her to take her makeup off first. Sometimes it was very complicated being a woman.

In the shower, Dee took off her tape and let little David out. She stood there, female from the waist up and male from the waist down (if you ignore the hairlessness and toenail polish), trying to figure out who he or she really was. There was less than two weeks until the Awards, and it was starting to feel more real and less like a game. She slipped into her silk nightgown and hoped the answers would come in a dream.

Oscar Night by Jennifer Brock Last year, Novelist/screenwriter David fine wore a red suit to the Academy Awards and made a joke about wearing a gown the next year. Somehow his friend clothing designer Claude Marsh and his bisexual fashion model girlfriend Maritza Delgado convinced him that the best way to make a good impression in a gown would be to present himself as convincingly female. David even agreed to get a number of surgeries, including an impressive set of breast implants. Claude hired "Feminine Deportment Coach" Kay Thomas to teach David, now known purely by the intial "Dee," how to become a woman. Dee's gone through a number of lessons, but it's now time for the one she's been dreading - Kay is making her go on a date with a man.

Part 18
Somehow, bad news always seems to travel in packs. On the same morning that Kay told Dee that everything was arranged for her date with a man on the coming Thursday night, Vanessa came over and said that Claude had finalized the design of her gown for the Academy Awards, and it required her figure to have a strongly defined waist. It required her to undergo corset training, and wear one all the time until then. It wasn’t enough just to put one on the night of the event; constant corseting would let them pull it tighter, and give her dress “the best line,” whatever that means.

She wanted to start Dee’s training right away, so they went upstairs and she had to strip down to her panties. Dee felt very self-conscious, and tried to cross her arms to cover her breasts, but Vanessa wouldn’t let her. She held open a white cotton corset she’d brought with her and had Dee step into it, then Vanessa pulled it up. It went all the way from just under her breasts, where it swept below them in a curve like an underwire, to halfway down her hips. It was fortunate that Dee had worn low-rise panties, since they’d otherwise have to come off.

Vanessa began tightening the laces, and she had Dee lean forward and hang onto the footboard of her bed. She got it to a point and tied it off, giving Dee a few minutes to get used to the constricted breathing. But then she had her give a big exhale, and pulled it even tighter. She then wrapped a measuring tape around Dee’s waist and said that she was at 29 inches, and the goal was to get her to 26 in the next ten days. Dee could barely breathe as it was, and couldn’t imagine there were another three inches of space her internal organs could get squashed into, but Vanessa was the fashion expert, so she had to trust that she knew what she was talking about.

Vanessa checked to make sure she wasn’t getting dizzy, and then helped her get dressed. Dee got to wear a pretty pink bra that only partially covered her breasts and amplified her cleavage a little. Her corset had tabs to attach garters, so Vanessa hooked some on and ran them under her panties, then rolled a sheer pair of silky stockings up her legs and clipped them to the garters. She buckled Dee’s feet into brown leather gladiator sandals with 3-inch heels and had her stand up. A clingy wrap dress in a sort of sunset-orange color went on next, and it showed off Dee’s assets nicely.

She accessorized it with a belt that accentuated her shrunken waist, and a tribal-looking necklace and earrings made of carved wooden and faux ivory beads. Kay told her to do her makeup for a “daytime glamorous” look, and she settled on powder without foundation, a coral lipstick and shimmery earth toned eyes with heavy mascara but no eyeliner, and just a hint of blush. She teased her hair up a little and spritzed on her favorite scent.

Kay had her practice all her walks again, to see how the corset impacted her movements. It seemed to help her posture on the glide, but she had to shorten her stride for the strut and it took a lot of practice to get the wiggle back into her hips for the sashay. Vanessa was impressed with how natural Dee moved in heels, and asked if she’d be interested in taking up modeling after this was all over.

Dee laughed at the idea and did agree that she’d been to enough fashion shows that she could probably handle herself on the runway, but it wasn’t something she was interested in at all. Despite the fact that they’d been working for a month to turn her into a major spectacle, she really wasn’t that comfortable being the focus of attention from strangers. Besides that, she figured that all the corsets in the world wouldn’t be enough to squeeze her down into the tiny sizes that models wear.

Vanessa said that wasn’t a good excuse, since she knew specialty plus-size models with thicker figures than Dee’s, but sensed her unease at the idea. She closed the topic by planting the seed of an idea in Dee’s head, that if she found out when all the excitement from her unveiling had died down that she liked the spotlight after all, Vanessa was sure that Claude would gladly feature Dee in a show.

After a lunch that Dee had to eat even slower and in tinier bites than ever due to her corset, Kay ran her through some more voice practice, to show her that the added note of breathiness caused by her restriction actually made her voice seem more sexily feminine. Dee felt confident that no one could possibly suspect her true identity unless she told them.

Vanessa left and told Kay to call her if she needed any help getting Dee unlaced. She said that ideally they’d want her to sleep in the corset, and Kay could loosen it an inch at bedtime, but she’d have to tighten it again in the morning, preferably even smaller than the day before. Dee would be allowed to take it off for bathing, but it would need to go right back again afterwards. And she really should wait at least twenty-four hours before taking her first bath break. Dee hoped she wouldn’t be too bruised when it was all over.

In the afternoon, Kay said that her big date would consist of dinner and dancing, and so she had enrolled Dee in a crash course in ballroom dancing. For the next four days, she’d be learning the basics, not all the fancy tricks the competitors on those dancing shows do, but it would be enough to properly handle herself on the dance floor.

Dee complained that the corset would make it difficult to properly move, but Kay pointed out that all the ladies wore corsets under their ballgowns back in the age when ballroom dancing was invented, so it’s almost as if the woman’s movements in a waltz were designed to be done wearing one. She had to agree that it made sense.

Dee threw some essentials in a tooled leather handbag and grabbed a red pashmina shawl to wrap around her shoulders if a chill came on in the evening air, and they drove off to the dance studio.

Back when he was in college, a girlfriend convinced David to take a class in ballroom dancing, but Dee really didn’t remember much. That was probably a good thing, since she’d be learning the other part, and disaster could ensue if she were to suddenly try to take the lead instead of following her partner.

There were about a dozen people in the class, mostly couples (and you could tell by looking that most of the men weren’t there willingly) but a few singles. The instructor told them to get into pairs. One guy started walking toward her, but she got the sense that he was kind of slimy, and the way he ran his eyes down her body was just gross.

Dee turned and approached a nervous man standing toward the back of the room. He was slightly built but tall, in her heels her eyes were just a little below his, which were an interesting shade of bluish gray. He had wavy sandy brown hair that was probably a little overdue for a trim, and a roguish stubbly beard along his jawline. He wore a blue striped button-up shirt and a well-worn pair of blue jeans, with black loafers on his feet.

She held out her hand and said, “Hi, I’m Dee. Do you have a dance partner yet?” He shook her hand, introducing himself as Jack, and said he’d be happy to dance with her. He warned her that he didn’t really know what he was doing, so if he stepped on her toes she had his permission to go find another partner. She laughed and said she didn’t know what she was doing either, and she had spikes on her feet, so maybe he was the one who should be worried. He looked down ostensibly to look at her shoes, but she caught him checking out her legs and he blushed a little. It was cute.

They started the class by just walking in rhythm, facing their partners, but around six feet apart; no one’s toes were in any jeopardy. Dee had worried that she’d be going backward the whole time, but that wasn’t the case. The men started by stepping toward the women, and the women started by stepping back, but then they stepped to the left and the women went forward, and then stepped to the right to start again back where they started.

It was really pretty easy. Once they had the pattern down they had to do it facing their partners, with their hands touching palm to palm. When lined up, the man’s feet weren’t pointed straight at the woman’s, but parallel to them, so even if he stepped forward before she went back, he wouldn’t be stepping on her feet anyway. Jack and Dee had nothing to worry about.

Once they had that pattern down, they had to get into the real dance position. He held her right hand in his left, and placed his right hand on her back. She felt a little shiver as his fingers touched her bare skin. Her left arm got to rest on top of his. They had to go through the pattern again. The tricky part was that they needed to do it without watching their feet. They were supposed to smile and look at their partner’s face.

Jack seemed to have a particularly hard time not looking down, so Dee tried helping him out. She made a half-smile and teased him. “Are you really breaking eye contact to check your feet, or are you just trying to sneak a look down my dress?” He realized that he truly was getting an eyeful of her cleavage every time he looked down, so he became very embarrassed, and tried to stammer an apology. But she couldn’t hold a serious face to feign being offended, and soon they were laughing together.

By the time class was over, they were not only doing the foxtrot like they knew what they were doing, but they felt like old friends. She thanked him for making the class bearable, and he corrected her and said that she was the one who had been so wonderful at putting him at ease. She promised to look for him in the next session, and went to find Kay for her ride home.

It felt wrong not to bathe after all that exercise dancing, but Dee was a good girl and did as she was told. Kay let her laces out a little, and gave her a hand dressing for bed in her sleeping bra and one of her nightgowns that buttoned up in the front. Sleeping in a corset gave a new definition to the word “uncomfortable.” It reminded her of when she first came out of surgery and had to sleep perfectly flat on her back or her boobs would complain. She just had to get used to not breathing so deeply when trying to relax. She finally broke down and took one of the pills they’d given her for sleeping during her recovery and that did the trick.

Kay found her as soon as she woke up the next morning, and made her grab the bed so she could tighten her corset. She had to take three strong breaths, and on the third exhale, Kay pulled. It felt even tighter than the day before, and she needed to take a moment to let things adjust. She went into her bathroom and gave her exposed parts a spongebath with a damp washcloth and a little soap, just to not feel so gross.

Her outfit for the day started with a pretty white bra and panty set, then a pair of suntan pantyhose. Dee covered up her bra with a white lacy camisole which would look nice under the sheer white blouse she’d picked out. She paired the blouse with a crisp cotton skirt that had a white and teal paisley pattern printed on a navy blue background. For shoes she chose a funky pair of teal leather pumps. She picked some silver and turquoise jewelry pieces, including a fun pin shaped like a turtle.

The second day of dance class went well. She went straight to Jack, and everything clicked and they got back into dance position just like that. He told her she looked nice, if a little “school-marmy,” and she teased by saying she hadn’t wanted to give him any extra reasons to look down. He cutely had no response to that.

They went through the box step they’d learned the day before, and then added a couple new moves they could do to mix things up and start moving around the room instead of staying in essentially the same spot. Their teacher gave them a routine to follow, and it took three or four songs for everyone to learn it. He even got fancy and showed them a move where the ladies got to do a fun little twirl.

Dee finally got her bath that evening. Kay helped her out of her corset, and she looked kind of silly with vertical red stripes down her torso. It was nice to be able to breathe deeply again. She luxuriated in her bubble bath, letting her sore abdomen soak until the marks went away. And she barely had enough time for a quick rinse off in the shower before Kay came knocking to tell her time was up. Dee negotiated a few more minutes so she could wash her hair, but that was it.

Once Dee had toweled off, Kay imprisoned her in a new clean corset that Vanessa had left with her. She told Dee not to worry, that she’d done waist training with other students so she knew what she was doing. It seemed like she was even a little better at it than Vanessa was. She tightened it once, and let Dee’s organs get used to their new positions for a bit, then tightened the laces again, and on a third tightening, she had Dee stand lower so Kay could put her knee against her back for leverage. When it was all done, she fetched a measuring tape and checked Dee’s waist. Kay had gotten her down to within an inch of her target size. It took more time to get used to, but Dee figured she was hardly the first girl to suffer in order to be beautiful.

***

The day of her last dance lesson, Dee was trying to pick out an outfit that would be sexy without looking like it was trying too hard, one that would show off her best features. Standing in the closet in her bra, panties and corset waffling between three dresses, the thought hit her that she was trying to figure out which one Jack would like her in the best.

When Kay came to see why she was taking a little too long to get dressed, she found Dee sitting on the floor of her closet, weeping. She lowered herself down next to her, wrapped a reassuring arm around her, and let her lean on her shoulder. “What’s the matter, Sweetie? Did something happen?”

Dee sniffled, “I’ve lost myself. I think I snapped and went gay.”

Kay stroked her hair. “What do you mean?”

“I was choosing a dress to wear, and realized that I wanted to find one that the guy I’ve been dancing with would like.”

“Don’t worry about that. There’s nothing wrong with wanting men to think you look pretty. That’s a perfectly normal part about presenting a female appearance.”

“But that’s just it! I wasn’t trying to look good for all men; I wanted to look attractive for one specific man. I wanted this guy to want me, like sexually. I think I’ve been flirting with him all these classes without even thinking about it.”

“That’s okay, too. Flirting is a lot of fun. It shows that you’re really in touch with your feminine persona if you’ve been doing it subconsciously. It’s a good thing, really. And yes, flirting is about making someone desire you, so you want to wear something that makes him fantasize about ripping it off of you, but there’s no harm in a fantasy.”

“No? It doesn’t make me gay, though?”

“Honey, all that we’ve been working on this last month is taking your old male ego and locking it away in a box deep inside you. All that this means is that you’ve had a breakthrough in seeing yourself as completely female. Just take your old male self-concept and stick a pin in it. Allow yourself to embrace your womanhood completely. After next week and your big event, when you’re figuring out who you’re going to be everyday for the rest of your life, you can take that pin out. But for now, we don’t need him getting in the way.”

“So it’s not wrong if I want to be sexy for Jack?”

“No, it’s not. Just make sure you keep your relationship in the flirting stage. If you take things too far, you might end up in trouble. Let him undress you with his eyes, but not his fingers — they might get a surprise that could end badly.”

“Don’t worry about that. No one will be undressing anyone, not that it wouldn’t be fun. Wait, I don’t know why I said that. Where are these feelings coming from?”

“You’re just learning to accept yourself as a female. Don’t question your emotions, just let yourself feel them. Just be careful about acting on those feelings.”

“Okay, if you say so.”

“If it will help you rationalize away your unease, chalk up your attraction to this guy to the hormones you’ve been taking.”

Dee’s eyes widened in panic. “What?”

“You’ve been on a light dosage of female hormones since we started. That cream the doctor gave you that you’ve been rubbing into your breasts so they stay supple contains a small amount of estrogen. It’s so they behave like they were growing naturally. It’s why that stuff’s only available with a prescription. There’s probably been a tiny amount of growth in your actual mammary tissue, but I doubt you could see it without a microscope. Also, the herbal tea I’ve been giving you contains compounds that mimic female hormones, as well as others that reduce the impact of the male hormones your body produces naturally. Also, your body already produces some female hormones naturally, but you’re not taking anything to suppress those.”

“Really? Is there any danger that they’re making permanent changes to my body?”

Kay did her best not to laugh at the person who had undergone major surgeries to feminize her body worrying about tiny doses of hormones changing her. “No, Sweetie, the levels aren’t that high. You probably have slightly more estrogen in your bloodstream than a woman who’s passed through menopause, but nowhere near the amount in an average adult woman, let alone the body-changing surges of a girl in puberty. But the hormones are there, so use them as an excuse if you need to blame an outside influence to soothe your inner manhood enough to keep it from denying your feminine self the right to feel all that you’re feeling.”

“I suppose that makes sense.”

“Okay, now let’s get you cleaned up and looking your hottest for this guy. What did you say his name was?”

“Jack.”

“Look out Jack - Dee is going to knock you out of your socks! I just hope he’ll still be able to dance with you when there’s no blood left in his brain.” Dee actually started giggling along with Kay at that, and they worked together to pick out a killer outfit.

It had the desired effect. When she walked into the dance studio in her silk little black dress, all eyes were on her. Its layered handkerchief hem fluttered around her knees and covered up her lack of hips, and its halter-style bodice left her back and shoulders bare to feel the touch of her partner’s hand, while the neckline had a moderate V that showed off enough of her cleavage to tempt without seeming overtly slutty.

Burgundy lipstick made her mouth the focal point of her face, although her lush lashes and silvery eyelids demanded attention whenever she blinked. Large gold hoops were in her ears and her hair was pulled back in a fairly casual ponytail that bounced nicely as she crossed the room. She loved the click of her four-inch stilettos, and they brought her nearly eye to eye with Jack.

He was fairly dumbfounded, and fought for the right words to tell her how incredible she looked. She thanked him with a smile that turned his insides to mush. He seemed nervous again dancing with her, and Dee thought that was a good thing.

The instructor had them review everything they’d learned, and they did a few turns around the room in a foxtrot and then a few in a waltz, and Dee was really enjoying herself. She even liked it that Jack was the one steering them, and her only job was to follow his lead, and direct him only to avoid a crash if he couldn’t see another couple coming up behind him.

They went over the cha-cha they’d started to learn in the previous class, and the teacher also showed them some rhumba and a little salsa. The fast dances were a lot of fun, and Dee loved the way they made her skirt flare. But far too quickly, the class was over.

Kay hadn’t arrived yet to pick her up, so when Jack asked if she wanted to get a coffee in the café next door, she couldn’t think of an excuse to say no. She texted Kay to let her know where to find her, and followed him over to the coffee shop. Jack was very sweet and let her pick a table while he stood in line for their order.

They chatted lightly about dancing and why they’d taken the class. He was getting ready not to embarrass himself at a charity ball his boss was throwing. He was a civil engineer and worked for a firm that was involved in some major renovation projects in the old part of the city. Dee laughed that she didn’t even know there was an old part of the city.

For her part, she told him that she’d been taking the class because her friend was making her, which was mostly true. She also had to admit that she was preparing for a blind date that would be taking her dancing, and she could read Jack’s face to see his hope fading. She did let him give her his number in case it didn’t work out with the other guy, but she wouldn’t give him hers.

She felt sorry for him, because he seemed like a decent guy; he just had bad timing. So when Kay showed up to take her home, she gave him a little hug and a kiss on the cheek, and thanked him for making learning to dance so enjoyable.

In the car, Kay told her she thought Jack was cute, and told Dee she had good taste. Dee was feeling a little sad that she’d had to turn him down, but Kay reminded her that she’d get her chance to go out with a guy soon enough. Dee wasn’t sure whether to feel dread or excitement about that.

***

Kay took Dee off her herbal tea the day before her big date. She wanted to give her libido a chance to come back. Dee was confused enough as it was, but she went along with it. That night, she had a strange dream that she didn’t quite remember but it had something to do with dancing and she thought Jack might have been there. She was also surprised to discover that for the first time in a long while, she’d awoken with an erection.

She contemplated trying to just will it away, but it had been so long since she’d had any kind of sexual thought she decided to take things into her own hands. She didn’t want a mess, so she got up and fetched a towel and her softest skin lotion from the bathroom. While she was up, she locked her bedroom door, just so Kay wouldn’t interrupt anything.

She removed her nightgown and lay in bed atop her towel wearing just her corset, and wished she had a way to take that off, too. She ran her shiny nails along her sexy, smooth legs and imagined it was the caress of a lover. She danced her fingers along the inside of her thighs and drew close enough to tease, but didn’t touch just yet.

She moved her hands up along her body to find her breasts, giving each a gentle squeeze. Her fingers naturally gravitated to her firm and eager nipples. A few drops of lotion on each hand made her thumbs slippery enough that as they traced circles around her nipples, faster and faster, it brought excitement and not pain. Her breathing became more rapid, and she worried about hyperventilating. She gave each nipple a sharp pinch and that nearly sent her over the edge.

It was time. While her left hand continued to play with a nipple, her right hand reached out and placed a dollop of lotion on the site of her hunger. She worked her hand along the shaft, letting a different finger pay a visit to the warm purple tip with each stroke.

In only a few minutes, her ministrations were rewarded with a sticky burst of relief. She had a strong urge to lick her fingers but they smelled too floral from the lotion when she got them close to her mouth. She wiped herself off on the towel and breathed as deeply as the corset would allow, savoring the afterglow for a moment.

Eventually she got out of bed, put her towel in the hamper, wrapped her sweaty body in a robe, and sought out Kay’s help so she could get her straightjacket off and take a shower. She thought that maybe Kay suspected what she’d been doing, but she didn’t say anything.

Her day was a fairly easy one. A brief review of body language, emphasizing flirtatious gestures, was followed by some practice with nighttime makeup techniques. After lunch, they watched a couple romantic comedies on DVD, and Dee had to point out how the women were using their words, postures, and fashions as tools to help get their men.

Dee had to read a romance novel at bedtime, to help put her in the right mindset for her date the next day. Fortunately, it didn’t inspire any sexy dreams, at least none she could recall.

***

Thursday Kay had gone out early and brought a shopping bag of things up to Dee’s room. “Now before I show you what I got for you, I want to make it extra clear that all I’m asking you to do tonight is go out to dinner and dancing with Joe, and behave as though you’re a woman on a date with a man, enjoying herself. That’s the only service he’s been paid to perform, and all I’ll be asking him about when I call him tomorrow is how you did in public.”

Dee wasn’t sure where Kay was heading, but was following her so far. “Okay, I understand.”

“When he brings you home at the end of the date, it’s up to you where you want to go with the scenario. A girl’s got her options for how to deal with a guy. You could thank him for a nice evening and send him on his way with a peck on the cheek, or you could let him walk you to your door and give him a serious good night kiss, or you could invite him in and let things get a little more physical. But either way, it’s all up to you.”

“I don’t think I’ll want to do much more than the good night kiss, but okay.”

“In case you do want to invite him in, you don’t need to worry about me being here to eavesdrop. I’ll be spending the night in a hotel, and won’t be back until noon tomorrow.”

Dee shook her head. ‘That’s expecting a little too much. I really don’t think that’s necessary.”

“It’s already been arranged. Besides, even if you’re home alone you might want to be alone to do some experimenting. If going out with Joe leaves you curious, but you don’t think you’re comfortable yet with the idea of an actual man, I got you a couple toys that you can play with.” Kay opened her shopping bag and pulled out a very realistic looking silicone penis complete with testicles, and a second slender bullet-shaped dildo. “Either of these can give you some idea of what it would be like to be penetrated, and both of them vibrate, so they’re even better than the real thing.”

Dee wanted to tell Kay to keep her toys, but she had to admit to herself that a part of her truly was curious about what it would feel like to be with a man like a real woman. She tired not to let Kay see what she was thinking, but she couldn’t help blushing.

Kay continued, pulling a large squeeze bottle out of her bag. “If you do use one of these, or if you invite Joe to spend the night, (don’t worry about him rejecting you; I know for a fact you are exactly his type) make sure you use plenty of lube. Use too much and you might make a little mess, but if you don’t use enough you can get really badly hurt, so try to err on the side of excess. Liberally coat your little friend, and also give yourself a good couple of squirts directly.”

Even though she was somewhat accepting of the idea of being penetrated, having to think about the specific mechanics involved made Dee very uncomfortable. It wasn’t a part of her anatomy she regularly gave a lot of thought to.

And Kay wasn’t done discussing that area. “To really properly prepare yourself for sex with either an actual man or one of these substitute men here, it’s polite to make sure you’re nice and clean for him and have plenty of room inside.” She pulled out a box of six disposable enemas. “One of these should be enough, but if you’re really worried about being a good hostess before you invite a guest over, a second one to make sure should be enough for peace of mind. I wouldn’t do more than two in a row, though. I just get the big box to save money.”

Having to think about cleaning herself out before shoving something up there made it feel more real, and Dee had to concentrate to remain calm. When she’d settled down, she hid the new toys in the drawer of her nightstand, and put the big box in the cabinet in her bathroom.

After finishing her sex talk, Kay gave Dee a hand getting ready for her date. Dee was relieved to learn that she’d be set be free from the corset for an extended time. She had to wear an elastic waist cincher instead, but it wasn’t quite as tight as the corset, and she could take it off and put it on without needing assistance.

Dee spent extra time tucking and taping her extra bits back in place, and then pulled on a pair of black satin panties that had extra padding in the buns and hips to round out her figure. She wore a coordinating lacy black strapless bra that had just a little bit of push-up in its cups. Her legs were encased in a pair of sheer black seamed stockings with silicone tops that stayed up without the need of garters, and a pair of sexy peeptoe slingbacks that showed off her red lacquered toenails went on her feet.

Her fingers were also done in a shiny fire engine red. They contrasted nicely with the deep purple minidress she pulled over her head. It had tiny spaghetti straps and when Kay zipped it up, it clung tightly to her curves. Her boobs were very nicely framed in the low scooping neckline, and the hemline came to only five inches or so below the swell of her sexy faux derriere.

Kay worked with a curling iron to give Dee a partial updo, with her hair gathered back but then released in a cascade of ringlets. Her makeup was also flashier than usual, with shimmering powder over a flawless foundation base, and a few more shimmers on her shoulders and décolletage. Enough blush went on her cheeks to contour her cheekbones, and extended wearing bright red lipstick with a shiny topcoat made her lips seem to beg to be kissed. Smoky smudged eyeshadow covered her lids, and her eyes were outlined with crisp black eyeliner and volumizing black mascara. She even used an eyelash curler to make her eyes seem larger.

For jewelry she wore a triple-strand silver chain necklace that helped highlight her cleavage, and long dangling silver chandelier earrings. Four silver bangles went on her left wrist along with a bracelet watch, and a silver ring with what looked like a pair of amethysts went on the middle finger of her right hand.

Dee looked in the mirror and worried that maybe they’d gone a little overboard. She looked a little too sexy; would she be sending Joe the wrong message? Would people think she was some kind of hooker? Kay tried to ease her fears by saying she didn’t look like a cheap tramp; she was clearly wearing quality designer clothes. Sure she looked sexy, but that was just because Dee would have looked sexy even without special clothes and makeup. She didn’t look like a hooker, just the beautiful woman she was, dressed up for a night on the town with her date.

It was too late to change, so she just had to trust Kay’s judgement. She checked her watch and saw that she was late. She was glad that Joe seemed to be running late, too. Kay spoke up and said that Joe was already there. He’d shown up while Dee was dressing, and Kay had shown him in. He was waiting downstairs for her, but Dee didn’t need to worry — a gentleman expects to have to wait for his lady to get ready.

What it did mean was that Dee didn’t have any time to get nervous. Her date was already there, so she wouldn’t have to waste any energy worrying about what he would be like. She could find that out as soon as she left her room. Kay organized a clutch bag for her, and picked out a wrap for her to carry, and said she’d go tell Joe that Dee was ready. Dee took a couple of deep breaths and then opened her door and did her best glide down the stairs to the foyer.

Joe followed Kay into the hallway and looked up to see his companion for the evening coming into view. First to appear were a pair of very sexy shoes — her feet weren’t too big; that was a point in her favor. The feet were topped by an incredible pair of legs and he began to think that this was going to be an easy job. She had beautiful hands with long shiny nails, and her slender arms had neither unsightly hair nor unwanted musculature. A magnificent rack caught his eye next and he was glad this time Kay had hired him to escort an actual tranny and not a guy in a dress with fake rubber tits. He wondered if she was pre- or post-op, and his eyes strayed to her crotch but he didn’t quite have the right angle to look up her dress. She spoke, and he looked up to her face. Damn! She was gorgeous! And amazingly, he was getting paid for this. For a moment he wondered if Kay was pulling a trick on him and setting him up with an actual woman for a change, but she’d said this one was one of her usual clients, but there was nothing usual about her. He’d have to bring his A game for this one.

Dee saw the man standing in the foyer looking up at her. He was tall, at least six-foot four or five. He’d be towering over her even in her heels. He was broad, too. His nicely tailored charcoal gray suit jacket did nothing to conceal his muscular shoulders, and the open buttons on his blue silk shirt showed some of the curly golden hairs on his tanned, powerful chest. He stood with his hands in his pockets, which somehow seemed to make his belt buckle catch the light from the ceiling fixture. Her eye was drawn to the shiny buckle naturally, and not because she was wondering about what was beneath it. She apologized for making him wait, but he didn’t seem to hear her. She tried again when she stepped off the stairs.

“Hi, I’m Dee. I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long?” She held out her hand for a shake, but he took it and kissed it.

“Joe. And for someone as lovely as you, I’d wait an eternity. It will be my pleasure to be your escort for this evening. May I help you with your wrap?” He took the silk shawl from her hand and deftly draped it across her shoulders, in a move that somehow ended up with his arm around her waist. Dee wasn’t sure how to react.

Kay held the front door for the couple, wished them luck on their date, and reminded Dee that she’d see her at noon the next day. Joe hoped that implied what he thought it did.

He walked Dee to his car. It was some kind of black sports model, but she didn’t know enough about cars to name its make or model. He clicked his remote to unlock it, and opened the passenger door for her, holding it while she got in. Dee had to be very careful getting in with such a short hemline than she didn’t give him a free show as he stood by the door. She scooped her skirt behind her and backed into the seat, keeping her knees tightly squeezed together, and swung her legs in once she was seated. Joe pulled the seatbelt out for her when he saw her reaching up, and closed the door once she was tucked inside securely.

He went around to the driver’s side and got in. Dee noticed that he didn’t fasten his own seatbelt, and he turned to her and smiled after he started the engine, as though she was somehow supposed to be impressed by the hum of his motor. As they drove to the restaurant, he told her to try to forget who was paying and who was being paid to be there; she should just think of it as two people enjoying each other’s company for a night on the town. And even though he knew the kind of person Kay worked with, as far as he was concerned she was a beautiful woman, 100% complete. He’d be treating her as such, and he hoped that was how she saw herself. Joe had given that same speech dozens of times, but this was one of the rare cases where he actually meant all of it.

It did help put Dee at ease. It would be easier if she could just let go of all the baggage and circumstances that brought her to this point and just be in the moment, a woman out on a date with a man, and do whatever felt right from that perspective.

Joe asked if she wanted some music, and before she could answer he moved his hand from the gearshift to the stereo controls, letting his fingers “accidentally” brush her knee as he did so. Soft, romantic R&B came out of the six speakers that surrounded them, and Dee could feel her seat vibrate when the subwoofer hit the bass line. Joe’s style of driving on the freeway reminded Dee of Maritza, and she felt sad that her love wasn’t there. But it also reminded her that Maritza had not only given her permission to go on this date with a man, but in her Valentine letter had actually seemed to be encouraging Dee to do more than just date. So she just smiled at Joe and tried to remember the words to the old song that goes “if you can’t be with the one you love, love the one you’re with.”

Joe heard Dee kind of singing under her breath, but she was way off for the song that was playing. He’d never understand chicks, even those that used to be dudes. But she was hot, and hot excuses a whole lot of crazy. Of course, that theory had gotten him a lot of trouble in the past. She was smiling at him, so he smiled back, but that seemed to make her mad that he wasn’t keeping his eyes on the road.

They made it to the restaurant well in advance of their reservation. Joe wasn’t quite fast enough to keep the valet from opening Dee’s door for her, but he did get there on time to take her hand and help her out of the car. The valet did take a lingering look at her as she got out, but he’d have to suffer with knowing she’d be with Joe all night, and not some schmuck in a red blazer. He held out his arm, and she took it in hers, even cuddling up against him a little although that was probably mostly because of the wind. He held her tight while they waited for the claim tag from the valet.

Joe was a gentleman and held the door into the restaurant for Dee, and he offered her his arm again to walk over to the hostess station to give his name. Their table wasn’t ready yet, but she said they could wait in the bar. Dee was impressed when he told her that since he was driving he didn’t want a drink before dinner, but if she wanted one he’d be happy to go with her to the bar and get a glass of water or something.

She still felt a little tense and thought that maybe a drink would help her loosed up a little, so took him up on the offer. They walked over to the bar and found a little table. The high stools were another challenge for Dee to sit without flashing anyone, but she managed to get perched and even got her legs crossed without offering a peek of her panties. Joe asked her what she wanted and then went over to the bartender to fetch a glass of house white for her and a bottled water for himself.

They tried making small talk while they waited in the bar, but they were pretending to be just a couple on a date so they couldn’t talk about his job as a paid escort, and they were pretending she was a normal woman so they couldn’t talk about her real life or the situation that had brought her to Kay, so that left very general topics of conversation. He tried sports, but she didn’t follow any. She tried talking politics, but he really didn’t have any strong opinions on issues. Since they were LA and the awards were only a few days away, he tried asking if she had any picks for the Oscars, but she claimed not to watch very many movies.

Finally, she hit upon asking if he’d always lived in California, and he told her how he’d started out in Indiana but had come west after college to seek fame and fortune in Hollywood. She talked about being from Ohio, and they started reminiscing about how things were different out on the coast than back home, and a lot of their experiences were similar. Dee only edited her story slightly, lying with a conspiratorial wink about having been a smalltown girl trying to make her way in the world, before deciding to come out to Hollywood to become famous. She also lied about still looking for fame, since she didn’t want him to figure out her real identity.

They were getting along so well, smiling and laughing and trading stories that when the hostess waved to them they didn’t see her and she had to walk to right next to them to say their table was ready. Dee’s glass of wine had worked well, and at some point in their conversation she’d touched his hand to punctuate a point, but she’d left hers there for some reason, and she was embarrassed to realize she was holding his hand when the hostess showed up.

She brought them back to the hostess station, where a waitress was waiting to bring them to a table and give them their menus. She gave them a list of specials and then gave them a few minutes to make up their minds. Dee ended up going with a Chilean sea bass special, and Joe ordered a steak. She stayed with the house white she’d been drinking and got a refill, and he got a draft beer.

Her stomach was still a little nervous, so she just poked at her salad and couldn’t finish it. She offered Joe her cherry tomatoes and he accepted, but when she stuck her fork in one and reached over to drop it on his salad plate, he took her hand and brought the fork to his mouth instead. His hand was larger and stronger than hers, and it was very easy to just let him guide her. And somehow the way his lips wrapped around the tomato was sexy as all hell. She silenced the inner voice that was trying to say that something very wrong was happening, and just went with the flow. She let her eyes meet his and licked her lips as though she’d been the one to eat the tomato. He leaned closer and her heart fluttered in anticipation, but he just brought her fork-hand to her plate for the other tomato.

She finished playing with her salad and placed the napkin from her lap onto the table. She excused herself to go to the Ladies’ and Joe actually got up too, so she’d have an easier time getting out. Impulsively, she gave him a quick peck on the lips and told him she wouldn’t be long. She wiggled a sexy sashay toward the sign indicating the restrooms, and was grateful that there was no line.

She took a stall, raised her dress and lowered her panties, hoping no one would come in and notice that her rear end came off with them. She did her business and wiped off, checking to make sure her tape still held. It did. She pulled her booty back up and pulled her dress into place, and exited the stall without getting found out. After washing her hands she checked her makeup. She literally powdered her nose, which made her chuckle, and she made a few kissy faces at the mirror to make sure that her lipstick was living up to its claims of maintaining color and shine even after eating.

She sashayed back to her table, and Joe stood up again when he saw her. The salad plates had been cleared, but their entrees hadn’t shown up yet. She touched his arm and said “I’m back. Miss me?”

As an answer, he put his hand out to keep her from sitting down. He turned toward her and moved his hand to her cheek. He turned his face toward hers and held her there as he gave her a long, full kiss. She only parted her lips briefly, to let the tip of her tongue quickly touch his, but she didn’t think he deserved more just yet.

Joe broke the kiss and sat down, hoping she didn’t notice why he needed to get his lap back under the table so urgently. This chick was definitely getting revved up, and the fact that she wasn’t completely a chick just made her even sexier to him. He hoped she didn’t get up again soon. He’d be forced between rudely staying seated and embarrassingly standing up.

Their meals showed up and they started eating. Joe casually commented that Dee’s fish looked pretty good, and she cut off a piece and held her fork out to him. He took her hand again and brought it to his mouth. He looked her straight in the eyes and declared it to be delicious, but she wasn’t sure if he meant her or the fish. He asked if she wanted to try a taste of his steak, and she said sure. He cut a slice and put it on his fork, but instead of holding it out to her, he brought the piece to his own mouth and held it between his teeth. He turned toward her, daring her to take the piece from his mouth.

She slowly brought her mouth to his, trying to just nab the piece of steak without letting him get what he wanted. But he was too fast for her and opened his mouth right when she got hers in place, and she soon found not only the steak but also his tongue inside her mouth. She leaned into it and had a little fun playing with his mouth before she backed away.

Joe didn’t want to cause too big a scene in the restaurant, so he held back on the physical stuff, but kept flirting with his eyes, and describing everything he was eating in terms that could be interpreted as talking about sex without much effort.

Dee behaved herself for the most part, but did try to get the upper hand by fiddling with her necklace, shrugging her shoulders, and leaning forward occasionally, all to make him look at her chest. Every time she caught him watching her breasts, she awarded herself a point. She didn’t finish all her entrée but still said yes when the waitress asked if they were interested in dessert. She ordered a chocolate cheesecake thing that sounded truly decadent, with two forks. Joe just wanted a coffee.

When the dessert came, she decided they needed to sit closer to share the plate, and scooted her chair over closer to his. Joe took advantage of the opportunity and reached out to put his arm around her shoulders. Dee broke off forkfuls of the treat at a time, feeding every other bite to Joe and the rest to herself, until she was full. There was a little square left, and she had them wrap it up to take home.

When Joe used his credit card to pay the check, Dee paused for a moment and thought about it. He was probably just going to pass his expenses along to Kay, and she’d probably just be passing her expenses along to Claude. So in a sense, Claude had just taken her out to dinner. That train of thought led to scary places, so she quickly derailed it and tried to get back in character.

Joe pulled out her chair and offered a hand to help her up. She accepted his assistance, and carefully smoothed her dress as she stood so no one got a free show. She grabbed her bag and he adjusted her wrap for her. She let him wrap his arm around her waist and guide her to the door. There was only a short wait for the valet, but there was a breeze so Dee snuggled up close to her date. At least her dress was tight enough that there was no danger of her skirt blowing up.

When the car pulled up, Joe opened the passenger door for her, and she gave him a quick kiss before getting in. He went around to the other side, tipped the valet, and got into his seat. She leaned over to him and said, “Would you please fasten your seatbelt this time?”

He smirked. “If you really want my belt fastened you’ll have to do it yourself.”

Dee had to undo her own belt first, but she accepted his challenge and twisted in her seat and leaned across him to grab the little metal tab by his shoulder. Joe caught her in his arms and pulled her close for a real kiss. After only a token resistance her lips yielded and accepted the invasion of his tongue. Joe was really getting into it when the driver behind him hit the horn to get him to move his car. He had to let her go.

Dee pulled away and returned to her seat, but not before buckling him in. She gladly smiled over winning that one. And if maybe her fingers brushed his crotch as she pulled the belt over and she noticed exactly how much he was in her thrall, that was just a bonus. She straightened her dress and fastened her own belt.

Joe said that Kay had told him to take Dee dancing, but if she didn’t want to they could go somewhere else and Kay wouldn’t have to know. Dee told him that she’d been taking classes specifically so that she could go dance with him, and she thought it would be fun. He agreed and hit the freeway again, to take her to one of his favorite clubs.

It was an intimate little venue where a small combo played danceable jazz. Dee imagined that before California laws got all healthy, the room would have been smoke-filled and sleepy. Even without the smoke it was still dimly lit, virtually the only fixtures were low-wattage glass globes pretending to be candles on the little tables. Joe seemed to be a regular here; the doorman let them in without charging a cover, and he seemed to congratulate him for landing a hottie.

Joe had planned his night expecting Kay’s student to be slightly passable or worse, and he almost regretted taking Dee to a shadowy dance club. She deserved to be shown off under a spotlight. But she wanted a place with ballroom music, and this was the only one he was familiar with.

They claimed a table, and he got them a couple drinks from the bar. They sat and listened to a couple songs before she seemed ready and he asked her to dance. She seemed to fit nicely in his arms, and for a beginner she was a pretty good dancer. They stayed on floor until the band took a break, when they returned to their table.

As they sipped their drinks, Dee flattered Joe. “You’re a good dancer, and it was very easy following your lead.”

He lightly stroked her hand. “I agree. We work well together.” With a wink he added, “You know, they say that you can tell by the way a couple is on the dance floor, what they’d be like in bed.”

Dee lost her breath for a moment. When the shock passed, she tried to cover by batting her eyelashes and leaning in conspiratorially. “No, I had not heard that. Do you think it’s true?”

Joe played it coy. “I don’t know. I haven’t done the research.”

Dee grinned. “Well then, let’s get back on the floor and see what kind of stamina you’ve got!” She grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet.

They lasted through five more songs before they were both getting a little tired. Dee told Joe to take her home. She buckled him in again, and this time besides stealing a kiss he gave her bottom a little squeeze. Dee wondered if he knew he was groping a foam pad. He was a great kisser anyway.

Before she realized it, he pulled into her driveway. He got out of the car fast enough to open her door for her while she was still taking her seatbelt off. He took her arm and walked her to her door.

At the front stoop, he swept her into his arms and leaned in close. She returned his embrace, and they shared a deep, wet toe-curling kiss. Dee had a conundrum. Would she bid him good night and send him on his way, or open her door and invite him in?

*** To be continued…

Oscar Night by Jennifer Brock At last year’s Oscar’s, novelist/screenwriter David Fine wore a special dark red tuxedo designed for him by his friend Claude Marsh. After being insulted by TV personality Jane Waters, he joked that if he was nominated again he’d wear a gown. Claude organized a “cabal” of experts to work toward convincing David that the best way to pull it off would be to become as female as possible, and he agreed, especially when his girlfriend fashion model Maritza Delgado was keen on the idea. He even got a number of surgeries to make him more female, and has been working under the tutelage of feminine behavior expert Kay Thomas. When we left off, our heroine Dee had gone on a date with Joe, a paid escort, and was kissing him on her doorstep, unsure whether to send him home or invite him in...

Part 19
Joe was an excellent kisser. Dee didn’t want it to have to stop so suddenly. Maybe she’d had a few too many glasses of wine, or maybe she was just really getting into her role as a woman on a date. When she pulled her face away from his and broke the kiss, she still kept one hand on him while the other got her keys from her purse. She threw caution to the wind. “Would you like to come inside, for a cup of coffee or something?”

Joe smiled at her. “I’d love to.”

She opened the door and led him to the living room. “Take a seat.” She gestured toward the furniture.

She started to head toward the kitchen to start the coffee pot, but he grabbed her arm. “That can wait. You’ve been on your feet all night, and deserve a little time off of them.” He kept his right hand on her back, and did a quick move that caught her in the back of her knees with his left, and he scooped her up effortlessly, as though she were petite and lightweight. She let out a squeal of surprise and threw her arm around his shoulders to balance. Dee wondered what he was going to do. Was he planning to carry her upstairs and have his way with her, like some conquering barbarian?

That didn’t seem to be his plan, which left Dee feeling almost disappointed. He looked around the room for a moment, and then sat down on the couch, keeping her across his lap. He reached over and slipped off her shoes. “These make your legs sexy, but I’m sure your feet are killing you, especially after all that dancing.”

His strong fingers started kneading the ball of her left foot, and it was only when he made her feel so good that she realized how much her feet really had been hurting. Dee let out a tiny moan of pleasure, and almost couldn’t keep her voice in the feminine register. “Ooh, that’s good! Keep it up and I will be your slave forever.” She writhed a bit and flexed her toes. He shifted and got his other hand in on the action, allowing him to devote his attention to both of her feet.

Dee was in absolute heaven. Joe was a well-trained expert who definitely knew his way around a female foot. He even slid his hands up and massaged her aching calves. This was better than sex! She wiggled some more, not realizing exactly the extent to which she was grinding her enhanced posterior against his lap. When it got to be almost more than she could take, Dee sat up and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling his face toward hers for a kiss. She welcomed his tongue into her mouth and hungrily ran her own along it.

Joe let go of her feet and moved his hands around so he was holding her. His kisses were just wet enough without being too sloppy. Dee was so caught up in the intensity that she didn’t notice what his hands were doing until she felt his fingers on her right breast, directly touching her nipple and not just groping her through her clothes. He had deftly unzipped her dress and unhooked her bra one handed while she was distracted, and his other hand seized the opportunity once access was no longer obstructed.

Her first reaction to his touch on her nipple was surprise, and she inhaled sharply, sucking on his tongue. Her second reaction was to twist her waist so her torso was facing him, so he could get his other hand in on the action. She had two breasts, and they both wanted attention. She lowered her shoulders and arched her back to show them off as much as possible.

This chick had some of the best tits Joe had ever seen, and you don’t expect that in a tranny. He grabbed one in each hand — he had big hands, but she had to packing D cups because there was more than a handful, but they didn’t look too big on her. Girls like D don’t grow them that big on hormones alone, so there had to be some kind of implants, but squeezing them felt real enough to Joe. Her nipples were somewhat on the small side, but considering that she used to be a dude they were fine. And they were very responsive, which made up for it. They stood up as soon as he brushed his fingers passed them, and all the little bumps on her areolas followed. Those little bumps were almost more fun to play with than the actual nipple.

Almost. He rolled each nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and gave each a little twist before letting go. Then he switched to just brushing his fingers across them, drawing a five-pointed star, so he’d hit a different part of the nipple every time and it wouldn’t get over stimulated. He went faster and faster, until he worried he was rubbing her raw and he had to stop kissing for a moment to lick his fingers.

Dee couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so incredible! She felt as though he was about to give her an orgasm through nipple stimulation alone. She let her own hands wander a little along his chest, tracing the contours of his powerful muscles. She fiddled with a couple of his buttons and was pleased that unlike David’s usual style he didn’t wear an undershirt. His luscious pecs were right there for her to play with.

When his moistened fingers sent her into pure ecstasy, Dee’s breath grew more rapid and she felt her body trembling all over. She had to stop her kisses and just relaxed and let him push her back so he could lower his mouth to suck at her breast. His tongue drove her wild, and when he capped it off by almost biting her nipple it was perfect! And then he moved and did it again on her other breast. She was overwhelmed.

Somewhere in there, her mind caught up with her emotions and she started to seriously think about what was happening. This was fun and all, but there was a line she wasn’t sure she wanted to cross. Joe wasn’t her boyfriend or anything; he was just a guy who’d been hired to show her what a date with a man would be like, and she found out that it was pretty good. But she was in love with someone, and that wasn’t Joe. Would it be a betrayal of that love to let things get more physical?

At the same time, she didn’t want to be a tease. It wouldn’t be fair to Joe to just lead him on and kick him out into the cold, especially after all the wonderful sensations he’d given her. Maybe if she did something for him in return, she’d be able to send him home without feeling guilty about it.

She pulled his face back up to hers and kissed him again, and then she swung her legs around so she was sitting next to him on the couch instead of on top. He seemed a little confused, so she quickly placed her hand on his lap to let him know what she was doing. She figured out how to undo his belt buckle and unzipped and unbuckled his pants. He was already really turned on, so his erection popped out pretty much as soon as she opened the fly in his shorts.

There it was, as real as life, an actual penis, right at her fingertips. She’d never touched another man’s penis before. No, that was the wrong thought. She was a woman, not a man. She didn’t have one of those; that would be ridiculous. She tentatively reached out and lightly ran her hand down its length, petting it as though it were a kitten. It flexed and jumped at her touch. She stroked it again, less gently but more slowly. She could do this. She grabbed the base with her left hand to hold it in place, and wrapped her right hand around the shaft and started moving it up and down, slowly at first, but then gaining in speed.

She saw a little glimmer of liquid at the tip, and the sudden realization hit her that this was going to make a mess. She should have fetched a tissue or a towel or something to catch his juices, but she hadn’t thought things through. It would be just rude if she made him wet his pants, and she really didn’t want to get a new stain on her couch. Her dress was half off, so she might have been able to take it off and use it to catch any spills, but she wasn’t sure if it was dry clean only, and didn’t want to have to face a cleaner and have to ask about bodily fluid stains.

There was only one solution that presented itself to her mind. She was frightened and excited at the same time about it, but she couldn’t come up with a better plan. She slid down onto the floor and knelt between his legs. He got the idea of what she was doing and spread his knees wider to help her out. She leaned in and brought her mouth down onto him, being careful to keep her teeth away.

Dee’s thought had been that she’d continue to use her hands to stimulate him, and only use her mouth to catch whatever came out, but Joe didn’t know that. As soon as she’d brought her mouth into position, he put his hands on the back of her head and held it in place. He rocked his hips and she had no choice but to let him deeper into her mouth. With each thrust, he seemed to increase the pressure on his hands and pushed her head down closer. He even tried to give her encouragement by whispering, “Oh yeah, Baby, you’re doing great!”

Before long, she was taking his entire length into her mouth, fighting back her gag reflex. She did her best to try to use her lips and tongue on his most sensitive areas, hoping to bring him to completion sooner. She caught up with his rhythm, and figured out how to breathe without choking. When his thrusts increased their speed, she even began to bob her head in time with him, without his needing to push her to do it.

After a while her jaw was getting tired, and she really regretted joking about his stamina earlier. He really did have serious lasting power! Fortunately, right around then he said to her, “Okay, Baby. Are you ready?” She really didn’t have time to answer, even if she could have with her mouth full. The thing in her mouth exploded, and she tried to just hold the spurting head in her mouth, but he was still pushing into her.

He softened, and the firm hands holding her head in place became gentle fingers sweetly stroking her hair. “You were amazing, Baby! Give me a few minutes to recover and we can go do something that will feel just as good for you as it will for me.”

Dee swallowed hard, trying not to think about the taste in her mouth. She lightly gave his penis a kiss as she put it away, and her mind began to race. She stood up and nervously tried to straighten the straps on her dress. “I’ve got to go, um, freshen up. Wait right here.” She grabbed her purse and ran out of the room and up the stairs, making sure to keep a sexy wiggle in her hips.

The first thing she did when she got to her room was take her dress the rest of the way off. Her bra had fallen down inside it at around waist level, and it was really bothering her. The second thing she did was to go into her bathroom and brush her teeth three times and rinse out with mouthwash twice. It wasn’t that it tasted bad; she just didn’t want to be reminded of what she’d done. Once her mouth had become kissably fresh again, she was ready to figure out what to do next. She sat at her vanity table and did repairs to her makeup and hairstyle while she tried to make a decision.

There was just no getting around the full extent of what she’d done. She’d had sex with Joe. Granted, it was oral sex, but unlike certain ex-presidents as far as Dee was concerned oral sex was sex. Joe’s penis had been inside her body, and that wasn’t something she could take back. She felt like she’d betrayed Maritza’s trust, even though she’d been given permission to experiment and her Valentine letter had been fairly explicit about what she expected Dee to do with some man.

But at the same time, she didn’t really regret having sex with Joe. She’d been curious about how it felt to be a woman with a man, and he’d shown her some of that. It had been especially exciting for her when he’d taken control and almost forced her to do what he wanted. That’s not to say she’d enjoy being literally forced; rape wasn’t fun for anyone. But it was a thrill for her to be able to just submit completely and follow his lead. The idea of surrendering all of herself to him completely was very tempting.

Since she considered that she’d already had sex with Joe, what would be the harm in having more sex, in a more intimate manner, allowing herself to be as complete a woman as possible? She really couldn’t think of a compelling reason not to, and there were all kinds of urges in her aching to find out how it felt. It would have been so much easier if he just had been the barbarian and thrown her on the bed and taken her. But as much as she hated it, she was in control of the situation. He wouldn’t take her unless she gave herself to him.

It was as scary as it was exciting, but she decided to go ahead and invite him to join her upstairs, into her bed, into her body. But first she’d have to get ready. Remembering Kay’s advice, she went into her bathroom and found the box of disposable enemas. After reading the instructions a couple of times through, she wriggled out of her panties and lay on her bathroom floor in just her waist nipper and stockings. She uncapped the little bottle, stuck its lubricated tip inside her, squeezed as much of the fluid into her passage as possible, and took the bottle out. There were some weird bubbly noises and a vague feeling like indigestion, and then she urgently had to sit and let it pour out of her. It left her feeling pretty empty, but just for good measure she did the whole thing again, and when it came out the second time, it was mostly just water.

Now she had to pick out the right outfit for seduction. She walked over to her closet and looked through her lingerie, regretting that she hadn’t figured this part out before her date. She wasn’t even sure if there were any negligees in her wardrobe; she’d never had a reason to wear one before. But eventually she found some very sexy things in a drawer. She wanted something that would show off her best assets, without calling attention to her liabilities.

There were some things she liked, but they seemed kind of complicated. Whatever she ended up wearing, she didn’t want Joe to have to take too much time figuring out how to take it off of her. A few were too long, and some were too short, but then she found it. It was a black silk nightgown. At the top, it was fitted like a bra, and even had a little bit of push-up action going on. There was a ribbon that tied between her boobs in a bow, and below that it was split in a flyaway style all the way down to her ankles. Joe would merely have to pull that ribbon and her gown would come open to expose all her fun parts!

Perhaps some parts were just a little too exposed. She looked around and got a cute little black silk g-string that matched the gown. It had a tiny little strip of elastic in the back, and Dee imagined that if Joe didn’t want to take it off her he could just push it over to the side and have plenty of access.

That started her thinking about preparing her area like Kay had told her to. She found the bottle of lubricant in her nightstand drawer, and tried to figure out how she was going to get some up inside her so that she’d be slippery and ready for a visitor. She took her negligee off so she wouldn’t get it messy, and slipped off the g-string. While she was down there, she took the time to refresh her tape, making extra sure that everything was tucked up and hidden away. She didn’t want anything breaking the illusion that she was a complete and natural woman.

She lay face down on her bed and tried to aim the bottle at her little rosebud and squirt the liquid inside. That didn’t quite work. She’d have to hold herself open to get the lubricant in, and that was too difficult. She opted instead to spread the lubricant on her finger, and then stuck it down in as far as she could get it to go. It was a strange feeling, and she had to be careful with her long fingernails, but she ended up getting a fair amount inside. Then she went to her bathroom and washed her hands, and then used a damp washcloth to clean off some spillage on the outside of her buttocks. She then pulled her g-string back on and looked in the mirror, enjoying how it covered just enough to hide her secret.

She pulled her gown back on and tied the little bow in the front, then adjusted the position of her boobs in the cups, making sure it was creating a sexy cleavage. She checked the mirror and everything looked pretty good, but she really didn’t think the waist nipper worked with the whole look. She unhooked it and took it off and there were some stripe-like marks on her tummy. It wasn’t quite as desirable, and her waist suddenly had no definition.

As if that weren’t bad enough, the mirror also showed that somewhere in there she’d gotten a run in her left stocking, either when she was running around getting ready or perhaps earlier when Joe was massaging her legs. She took her stockings off and there were also more marks on her body, ring-shaped dents around her thighs where the silicone strips that held her stockings up had been.

She was almost ready to give up when she had a brainstorm and hit upon the perfect solution to both her problem areas. She dug around her lingerie drawers and found a black garter belt that matched her gown well enough. She fastened it on and it helped define her waist, and when she rolled a pair of sheer black stockings onto her legs and clipped them into the six garters, the marks on her thighs were covered.

A pair of black satin mules with marabou trim seemed like the right shoes for her seduction scene, a sexy slipper to show she was ready for bed, and ready to be bedded. To add to the casual look, she let her hair down and added a few more curls with her iron. She stripped her jewelry down to just her earrings, but then decided she needed to swap them for a pair of beaded hoops that she could sleep in, to continue the idea that she always looked this glamorous at bedtime.

A couple more spritzes of perfume for good luck, a fresh coat of gloss on her lips, and she was ready. Dee slowly opened the door then stepped out, striking a pose. She was turned partially to the side, so her breast would be seen in profile, and her left leg was showing in the slit in her gown. She cooed, “Joe, could you come here please?”

She held her position and waited, but couldn’t hear his footsteps on the stairs. Perhaps she wasn’t close enough for him to hear. She slithered in her most sultry sashay down the stairs, and got into position at the landing. “I’ve got something for you, Joe,” she said in her smokiest voice, letting her lips stay pursed in the O position at the end of his name.

He still wasn’t showing up. She took a moment to rein in her temper, and then delicately stepped around the corner to the living room. She paused in the doorway so he could get a good look at her, but she saw that her audience was gone. She peeked into the powder room to see if he’d disappeared in there, but no luck.

Her third time through the living room she finally noticed a small blue piece of paper on the coffee table. It was about 5” by 8” and folded in half. “Dee” was written on the outside in neat cursive handwriting. She sat down on the couch and unfolded it. There was a note on the inside. Joe must have brought stationery with him. She wondered if it was in his jacket pocket, or if he’d fetched it from his car. She read the note.

“Dee,
At first I thought you’d just gone up to use the can, but when you didn’t come out after an hour I realized what had happened. Kay told me this was your first date with a guy, so I understand that you got scared and hid from me when things started moving a little too fast for you. I’ve seen it happen before. Try not to beat yourself up about it. When you’re ready, you’ll know it. You were a first-rate cocksucker, and if it was really your first time, you’re a real natural! I’m sure you’ll probably be just as incredible in the sack, and the guy who gets to take you there will be one lucky son of a bitch!

I did have a great time with you tonight, and I would love to see you again — it wouldn’t even have to be professionally. I can’t think of anything I’d rather do than take you out on a real date. You are smoking hot, better looking than like ninety percent of the real women out there, so don’t let anybody try to put you down just because you’re a tranny. If you’re interested, give me a call. Kay’s got my number.

Thanks again for an amazing night,
Joe

P.S. I put your dessert doggie bag in the fridge for you.”

There was a part of Dee that was relieved that she didn’t have to go through with it, but most of her was feeling frustrated and more than a little pissed off at herself. Had she really taken that long to get ready? Why hadn’t she just shouted downstairs to let Joe know she was willing, but needed to prepare?

She was also kind of mad at Joe. He couldn’t have come up and knocked on her door if he thought she was feeling too scared to come out? And what was with his crude vocabulary? And what kind of idiot was he for not putting his phone number in the stupid note?

If only she had his number, she could have called him and said, “Joe, it’s Dee. Get on back here. If you’d only been a little more patient, you’d be screwing my brains out right now.”

Dee did have the number for Jack, the cute guy she’d met in her dance class. She could give him a good old-fashioned booty call. “Jack? It’s Dee. Are you doing anything? I’m home alone and aching to have a man inside me.” Although she probably ought to warn him, “By the way, it’s going to have to be from behind, since I don’t actually have a vagina… Well, because I have a penis instead, but that’s not a dealbreaker is it? Really, I don’t think that kind of language was necessary!” It probably wouldn’t go well.

Dee went back up to her room and tried to get up the courage to use even her thin vibrator on herself, but couldn’t do it. She didn’t want to have to be both the man and the woman. She wanted to lie there and lose herself in the desires of another, to feel herself being penetrated, and not to have to also be the one doing the penetrating. She gave up.

In an effort to make her unsatisfied urges go away, she went down to the kitchen and nibbled on her leftover cheesecake and drank two cups of Kay’s special anti-aphrodisiac tea, brewed extra strong. She didn’t want to be thinking about sex again for a long time, not until she saw her girlfriend again, which really wasn’t that far away, only three more days.

Back upstairs, she cleansed the makeup from her face, moisturized, and then changed into her frumpiest nightgown and went to bed, hoping that maybe in the morning this whole disaster would feel like just a bad dream.

Oscar Night by Jennifer Brock David Fine was a novelist who'd twice been nominated for an Academy Award for adapting his stories into screenplays. The last time he'd worn a red tuxedo that had been designed for him by his good friend the designer Claude Marsh. Fashion reporter Jane Waters had made a rude comment that colors were only for gowns, and David had joked that he'd wear a gown if he was nominated again. Claude had orchestrated a plan to turn David into a stunning vision of glamour and grace in his gown, by becoming as believably female as possible. With some encouragement from the girlfriend Claude had introduced him to, David even went so far as to undergo some surgical alterations. Under the tutelage of Kay Thomas, our heroine "Dee" has been learning how to become a woman. It's Friday morning, the Oscars are in two days, and Dee has just had a romantic experience with a man the night before.

Part 20

Dee awoke feeling ashamed. She’d given a man oral sex, and it was only her sheer incompetence as a seductress that kept her from taking it even further and bringing a man into her bed. But even so, a penis had been inside her. She’d swallowed semen. She had brought a man to orgasm with her mouth, and she’d liked it. It had given her a sense of accomplishment, a feeling of pride in a job well done (so to speak), and there was no getting around that.

Did this mean she was gay? That David, her true male self at the bottom of her psyche, was gay? Would he be able to go back to the way things were before? And what about Maritza? David had a girlfriend he was very much in love with, and it wouldn’t be fair to her if Dee was going to be looking to get penises stuck into all her various orifices. But did Dee really want that? She didn’t know; it was all so very confusing.

Dee tried to visualize her girlfriend naked, to try to see if that image still turned her on, but the megadose of anti-libido herbs she’d taken before bed seemed to be working too well. Thinking of sex with women didn’t do it for her, but neither did thinking of sex with men. She couldn’t even get aroused by playing with her nipples. She still had more questions than answers. She wasn’t sure if she was more ashamed for trying to bring a man into her bed or for failing to.

Male or female, gay or straight, she had no clue about who she or he really was anymore. Kay wasn’t even there to talk to about this. Dee just wanted to sit in the corner of her room and cry. That wasn’t going to solve anything either, though. She forced herself to get up and start her day, starting with a painfully hot shower.

While washing, she noticed that she could still feel the lubricant that she’d applied up inside her. She stuck her beauty bar in there as far as it would go in order to clean it all out. She plunged it up and down a couple of times before she realized that she was having sex with a bar of soap and pulled it out and felt even dirtier.

She had to stop, get out and go use one of her disposable enemas and clean herself out before she felt pure enough to finish her shower. She exfoliated herself pink with her loofah under the hot water, and gave her hair a good wash and conditioning. After drying and applying lotion to most of her skin, she tucked and taped up her offensive male parts, using extra tape. She blamed her libido for the mess she was in, and was essentially punishing her genitals for her behavior. To make things as difficult for them as possible, she put on her most constrictive tiny thong panties, and then her tightest pair of jeans, which needed her hip and bun pads to fit properly, so she pulled on her padded girdle and then her jeans.

She selected a nude seamless demi bra and wore a tight red tank top that had a generously scooped neckline. It showed enough cleavage to be sexy without looking slutty. She tried to roll a pair of knee-high stockings up her legs, but then realized her pants were so tight she needed to have her hose on first, so she had to take them off then put her stockings on, then pull them back on. Finally she was able to slip her feet into a pretty yet comfortable pair of brown leather ankle boots.

She checked herself out in the mirror. Even without makeup and with her sleeper earrings as her only jewelry, she looked pretty good. The person in the mirror was clearly female — not only were there no bulges where they didn’t belong, but her jeans were so tight it made you think you could almost make out the contours of her cleft. Dee even knew that it was impossible, but the seam running across there made the illusion believable.

She wasn’t petite by any stretch of the imagination, but she was well-proportioned. Her girdle had pulled in her waist and padded out her hips to give her a 38D-29-34 figure, not a perfect hourglass but close enough to look sexy. In three-inch heels she stood five-eleven, tall for a woman but not outside the natural range. Her tank top left her shoulders bare, but rather than calling attention to the fact that they were a little more square than they ought to be, somehow isolating them minimized the problem. She hadn’t done anything with her hair, so it hung in a mass of chestnut waves down her back almost to the spot where the clasp on her bra made a little bump in the back of her top. She smiled at the pretty girl in the mirror.

She grabbed a scrunchie and pulled her hair back into a ponytail. She wasn’t planning on leaving the house, so she left her sleepers in and didn’t add any other jewelry. But she did feel a little naked without any makeup, so she sat at her vanity to pick out a lipstick. It was then that she noticed she still had extremely slutty fire engine red nail polish on her hands.

She almost had another breakdown at the reminder of how far she’d gone to try to snare a man, but shook it off. She did know she needed to change her nail color, though. She pulled out a bottle of nail polish remover and some cotton balls and set to work cleaning the red off her fingers. For the sake of completeness, she needed to do her toes, too. She took off her boots, and then removed her jeans so she could get her knee-highs off.

Dee wanted to pull her jeans back up once her feet were bare, just to maintain that tight pressure, but they reduced her flexibility too much for her to touch her toes. She had to take them off and do her pedicure in her panties. That made her a little uncomfortable, so she put on her short red silk kimono-style robe to provide just enough coverage while still allowing her knees to bend.

She got out her pedicure kit and gave her toenails the full treatment. She started by removing the offending polish. Next she trimmed, filed and buffed her nails, and used an orangewood stick on her cuticles. Then it was time for new polish, so she stuck the squishy foam separators between her toes and applied first a smoothing base coat, then two coats of the new color (she’d settled on a dusty rose pearlescent polish), followed by a clear protective topcoat for added sheen.

While waiting for her toes to dry, she continued each step on her fingernails, too. The whole process ended up taking about an hour. Sitting there in the middle of it all, Dee reflected on how natural it felt to do, not weird or strange at all. What was odd was to think was that just a month ago she’d been a guy.

After her toes were completely dry, she rolled her stockings back onto her feet and put her jeans and boots back on. She picked a lipstick that matched her new nail color, and brushed a little mascara onto her lashes for good measure. She finally felt completely dressed.

There were still a couple hours before Kay was expected back, so to make the clock go faster as well as to burn off some of the angry energy still in her system, Dee decided to do some housecleaning. She started by stripping the sheets off her bed and throwing them into the washer. She wanted to eliminate the clinging scent of desperation.

While the machine was busy, she hand washed some of her delicates. She wanted to purify all of her undergarments from the night before. Unfortunately, the dress she’d worn was dry clean only. She tried to hide it by hanging it off on the side of her closet with some other things that needed to go to the cleaners. The rules for her complex didn’t allow outside clotheslines, so she had to unfold her indoor drying rack for her lingerie.

When the sheets moved to the dryer, she threw a load of towels into the washer and set to work scrubbing the bathrooms. The tight pants made it painful to bend her knees, but Dee felt she deserved it. Housecleaning had always been a way for David to clear his head whenever he got depressed, and it still worked. At least that hadn’t changed, even when so much else had. It also gave Dee a warm feeling to see the yellow rubber gloves she was wearing to protect her manicure were the same kind her grandmother used to wear for doing chores.

By the time Kay showed up, Dee had changed the bedding on both her own and Kay’s bed, gotten all the bathrooms sparkling clean, vacuumed the carpet on the second floor and the area rugs on the first, polished the hardwoods, and finished most of the dusting. Kay scolded her for overexerting so close to the day of the big event, but Dee said she had a lot of energy that needed to be worked out.

Dee had wanted to keep things private, but she really needed to talk about what was bothering her. It wasn’t long before she broke down and started sobbing in front of Kay. “I messed up, and ruined everything!”

Kay wrapped her arms around her and held her tight. “What did you ruin? The place looks sparkling.”

“No, with Joe. Last night. I’m horrible.” Dee sniffled between sentences, and made little sense.

Kay gave her a soft pat on the back and held her for a few minutes. “Okay, now start over slowly, from the beginning. What went horribly wrong with Joe? Did he get fresh with you?”

“No, I did.” Kay’s confused look made her continue, “I’m a filthy whore, a cheap slut, a dirty skank.”

Kay interrupted before she started on another crying jag. “You are no such thing. You are a good person. I can’t imagine why you don’t think so. What happened?”

Dee gave her the full story of everything she’d done with Joe, even showing Kay the note where he called her “a first-rate cocksucker.” She’d let a man she barely knew penetrate her body, on the first date. And she would have let him do more if she hadn’t taken so long getting ready, making herself cleaned out and lubed up for him. She was no better than a common street whore.

Kay let Dee feel sorry for herself and cry it out for a while, before trying to snap her out of it. “Honey, you did nothing wrong. You’ve just been programmed by an archaic chauvinistic society that shames women for the same things that it praises men, sexually. You had every right to experiment with Joe, and it doesn’t make you morally flawed to have done so. You were a consenting adult who understood what you were getting into. Not every bedmate has to be a soulmate. But going by your reaction today, it’s probably a good thing you didn’t take him into your bed; you clearly weren’t ready for it, and I’m sorry if I pushed you too far. Do you think you can get past this? I’ve only got one more lesson for you, and it’s a fun one.”

Dee nodded to let her know she understood, and muttered that it wasn’t Kay’s fault. She tried to put on a smile, but it was a weak one.

Kay dragged her upstairs to change for lunch. She had her strip down to just her panties and then squeezed her into a corset again. Dee had almost forgotten what it felt like, but soon remembered how to breathe in it without hyperventilating. Kay checked with the tape measure, and Dee was down to her 26-inch target. She couldn’t bend to touch her toes, so Kay had to roll her stockings up her legs for her, but Dee was able clip them to her corset’s garters by herself while Kay was buckling on her three-inch sandals.

The outfit Kay had picked out for her was a tiered cotton peasant skirt with pretty eyelet lace trim. Dee got to go braless, but wore a frilly champagne satin camisole under her sheer white chiffon blouse. She was told to skip foundation, but made up her eyes fully, with mahogany mascara and eyeliner and rose eye shadow that matched her nails and lips. She felt that her ensemble seemed a little gypsyish, so she chose wide gold hoop earrings and loaded her wrist with bangles, and found a cute gold pendant of a filigree turtle to crawl around in her cleavage.

Kay took out her scrunchie and brushed her hair out to its fullest volume, and gave her a few sprays of perfume. Dee grabbed her bone leather shoulderbag, and transferred all her essentials into it, and she was ready to go. A quick check in the mirror revealed a look that would have been very “Southern California” if only she was a little tanner and very much blonder. But she did have the requisite percentage of silicone body mass. She chuckled to herself and smiled a genuine smile.

Kay drove them a ways out from the city, to stop for lunch at a taqueria set up in what was probably officially a vacant lot. A trailer, like from a carnival concession or a jobsite caterer, was set to one side where people would place their orders at a window, and there were a number of plastic café tables and chairs arranged around the lot.

Kay told Dee to grab a table while she went up to place their order. Dee tried to find the cleanest, least wobbly of the vacant tables. Her spiked heels were not that suited for the packed dirt on the ground, but she managed to make her way without any mishaps, other than a few whistles from one of the patrons, a large Latino man who appreciated the way the wind was blowing her skirt around. She regretted her choice of a thong.

Before sitting down, she took out a sanitizing wipe and reduced the grime on her chair, grateful for paying attention to the lesson on how to keep a well-stocked purse. It also seemed like a good time to put on her sunglasses. Even though it would give her admirer more of a show, she also wiped down a chair for Kay, and did what she could to the tabletop.

Dee wasn’t waiting very long when Kay returned. She set a divided Styrofoam clamshell dish, a chilled bottle of water, and a paper napkin with a plastic fork and spoon in front of each of them. Dee opened hers and saw a pair of tasty-looking enchiladas covered in cheese and sauce, with a reasonable portion of spicy rice and refried beans on the side. It seemed more appealing than anything from Taco Bell, despite having to eat it outdoors.

Kay said that for this part of the challenge, Dee needed to figure out how to eat sloppy, messy food and still seem daintily feminine. And to add to the challenge, she had to do all this while the billowy outfit Kay had put her in was blowing around in the wind, and also while she was essentially on display out in public, to both passing cars and the questionable people around.

Dee accepted the challenge, and tried imitating Kay, but she’d planned ahead and gotten a much neater lunch for herself, a burrito and quesadilla she could pick up in her hand and nibble delicately. She decided to start by eating her rice and beans, since that was easy. She was able to keep her spoonfuls relatively small.

Her hair was whipping around in the wind, and kept going in her mouth. She was really annoyed that Kay had insisted on taking her ponytail out. She rummaged a little through her bag, to see if she had an elastic or barrette or something, but it seemed that she’d been sabotaged. She grumbled and glanced over at Kay, who was grinning smugly. Dee thought back at all the tricks she’d seen Maritza do, and shot Kay an evil grin of her own before pushing her sunglasses up onto her head to hold her hair down.

Freshly following that victory, she felt confident enough to try to conquer her enchiladas. She was quickly thwarted though, when she couldn’t cut it down to bite-sized pieces with either her dull plastic spoon or her fork. She carefully smoothed her skirt, stood up, and walked over to the trailer. On the other side of the window was the cook, working in the kitchen. She tried to get his attention, and ended up having to lean over to give him a great view, and he just gave her a confused look. She took a moment to remember the right word, then made a cutting motion with her hand and said, “ ¿Un cuchillo, por favor?”

He smiled broadly and pulled out a white plastic knife from a bin and handed it to her, giving a little wink. Dee let her fingers brush his hand as she took it, and did her sexiest sashay back to her table. She could almost feel his eyes on her behind as it swayed. She settled back into her chair and had no trouble slicing her enchilada into pieces that she could eat without making a mess. She had defeated Kay’s challenge! It felt good to win, and almost made up for how awful she’d felt that morning.

When they got back in the car, Kay explained that the real lesson would be starting soon. Dee thought the lesson was just about eating in public, but Kay’s full plan was sneakier than that. They’d gone out for Mexican for lunch in order to prepare Dee for the afternoon’s lesson, in how to deal with “involuntary bodily noises.” Dee laughed when she decoded Kay’s euphemism.

The lesson actually turned out to be fairly useful. After teaching Dee the secret that all girls learn of how to suppress “intestinal noises” (basically, clamp it down until you can get to the ladies’), Kay used some powder on her and taught her a technique for sneezing cutely without sending it through your vocal chords but instead just making a high squeak. Similarly, she was taught to yawn without making a noise. Using her full male vocal chords for any of these unplanned sounds would give her secret away.

The trickiest part of the lesson came after Kay had her drink this gooey stuff that tickled her throat. It was very tricky trying to keep her voice in the higher range while coughing. She had to settle for a quiet whispering kind of cough that wasn’t very effective at clearing her throat. Being strapped into a corset didn’t make it any easier, either. Just when Dee thought that the lesson would go on forever, Kay decided they needed to stop before she went hoarse.

They took a break for a light supper. Dee took some frozen breadstick dough and soup from the freezer, and threw together a fresh green salad while they were cooking. The kitchen was definitely her domain; Dee was back in her element. The meal came together nicely. Kay said she’d miss her cooking when she left, and until then Dee hadn’t really been thinking about it. In only two days her lessons would be over. What would her life be like after Sunday? She had no idea.

On the subject of Sunday, Kay asked Dee if she’d written her acceptance speech yet. Dee was fairly sure she wasn’t going to win, so she hadn’t given it much thought. And since her laptop had been taken away and locked up, she couldn’t do it anyway. Kay pointed out that she had plenty of pieces of paper available to write on, but Dee said she needed her computer to write; nothing else was comfortable. Anyway, in the extremely unlikely event that her screenplay won the prize, she knew who needed to be thanked and shouldn’t need to write it down.

As it was, Dee only had a little time to herself after dinner. Kay told her she had another appointment with Jeffrey and Tomas. They drove over, and the salon was surprisingly busy for a Friday night. The other ladies there must have also needed to get ready for the Academy Awards, or related events. There were hundreds of parties planned for Sunday night in the greater Los Angeles area.

Kay said the appointment was in her name to preserve Dee’s secret identity. So when the receptionist asked for “Ms. Thomas,” she had to stand up and follow her. Dee was uncomfortable being surrounded by so many strangers undergoing special private procedures, and tried not to look around too much either along the way or when she was shown to a chair. Eventually she saw a friendly face. Jeffrey showed up and gave her a half-hug and an air kiss hello, and introduced Dee to Chrissie, a young blonde who would be giving her a manicure and pedicure. He gave Chrissie a special bottle of nail polish and told her to give it back to him personally when she was done; no one else was to get Dee’s color even if they asked for it. It made her feel pretty good to have an exclusive shade all her own.

Chrissie did a great job. And just like always, getting a pedicure really helped Dee relax. In fact, she almost fell asleep when Chrissie was rubbing lotion into her soles. Or maybe more than almost. She closed her eyes for what seemed like a moment, but then Chrissie tapped her shoulder and she opened her eyes and saw that her finger and toenails were now a deep wine color, with a shimmering topcoat that was almost black. Chrissie told her she was finished, and brought her to another part of the salon to wait in a chair.

At the second station, a new girl named Tawny gave her a mild facial. A full treatment would have left her skin red and puffy and it might not have been back to normal by Sunday, so she only got a deep cleansing and moisturizing without the active exfoliation that normally came with it.

Instead of another assistant, this time Dee was taken care of by someone she knew. Tomas came over and gave her a friendly greeting before trying to explain what he’d be doing to her hair. Dee didn’t have the vocabulary to understand all of it, but the gist was that he gave her highlights a touchup, and then set it to add a little more body, and finally gave her a cut into a slightly different style. When he finished, he gave Dee strict orders not to wash her hair in the next two days; it would be easier to style if her natural oils were still in it.

Oscar Night - Conclusion by Jennifer Brock A year ago in the story, but about a year and a half in our time, this story began when novelist/screenwriter David Fine attended the Academy Awards wearing a red suit that his friend fashion designer Claude Marsh had made for him, accompanied by fashion model Maritza Delgado. That night, an insult from a fashion journalist caused him to make the flippant comment that he'd wear a gown if he was nominated again. Since then, David and Maritza have fallen in love, moved in together, and he's made some changes in his wardrobe and appearance at her prodding. At Claude's prodding, David made even more changes, as they'd decided the only way to pull off wearing a dress at the ceremony and not look like a fool was to become as throroughly female as possible, even going as far as to make some surgical alterations. In this, the extra-large final installment of our story, we learn whether it was all worth it. Our action will begin on the day before the awards.

Part 21

Saturday morning, Kay got Dee out of bed early. She wasn’t allowed to take off her corset, so she could only wash a few strategic areas with a washcloth before tucking and taping things into place. Kay told her to dress casually, so she pulled on a lacy thong and a pair of faded jeans, and scooped up her boobs into a pretty fuchsia silk camisole top with a built-in shelf bra. Her feet went into knee-highs and then a fun pair of ostrich boots. She took a denim scrunchie and pulled her hair back into a ponytail. Her only makeup was a healthy coat of mascara and some lush lipstick the color of her top, and her only jewelry was a pair of gold triangular hoop earrings. After a couple drops of cologne and putting her stuff in a shoulder bag, she was ready to go.

It was really eerie how all of this had become second nature in so short a time. To think that it was only a month ago that Dee was David! In a little over a day, she’d be making her public debut, revealing the whole surprise to all of the Hollywood elite and a national television audience of millions. But it was pretty much too late to back out now. Dee did her best to tame the butterflies.

They only had time for a quick breakfast of juice and toast, and even had to take their coffee in travel mugs. Kay drove, which suited Dee fine; she was way too nervous anyway. She was so caught up in her own thoughts she wasn’t even paying attention to where they were going. Kay had to call her name twice to get her to realize they’d stopped.

They were at Claude’s studio. Dee was a little worried that everyone there would know her secret, and had to take a couple deep breaths before getting out of the car. If people were going to stare and point, there just wasn’t anything she could do about it, and she’d certainly be getting plenty of attention on the red carpet, so it would probably
be good practice. She flipped down the vanity mirror, made sure she didn’t have any lipstick on her teeth, and got out of the car. Slinging her bag on her shoulder, she tried to do a fierce strut, but lost focus and stumbled.

Kay noticed Dee’s trip and warned her, “That kind of literal faux pas cannot happen tomorrow. In heels that thin, you’ve got to be aware of any changes in your center of gravity, and compensate for them seamlessly. Like if someone were to hand you a solid gold statuette, it would be very disappointing if you suddenly fell forward. I imagine they’re quite heavy.” Kay smiled at her student.

Dee laughed a sweetly melodic sound. “Well, there’s little likelihood of that happening, but I’ll bear that in mind. I don’t think they’re solid gold, anyway. I’m pretty sure I read that they’re plated. But anyway, thanks for your optimism.”

That little exchange was enough to get Dee’s head back in the game. Kay really was good at her job. Her lessons were almost over, and she’d be sad to see Kay go. She hoped they’d keep in touch. She wondered if some day she’d be having a night out with the other former students, welcoming another newcomer into womanhood, as was done for her.

They walked in, and the place was bustling with activity. Vanessa was waiting for them at the door, and after giving them a warm greeting she flipped her phone open and hit a button. She simply said, “They’re here,” and then closed her phone.

A few seconds later, Claude came out and met them. “Wow. Even just standing there, in what I’m guessing is your idea of ‘dressing down,’ you look breathtaking. I only hope my creation is worthy of such a model.”

Dee blushed, and thanked Claude for the compliment. She greeted him with a warm hug, which probably wasn’t what David would have done, but it felt right. He definitely would have skipped the kiss on the cheek.

Claude brought them forward into the room. He stood on a stool and called his minions to attention. “All right, people! A major project is about to come to its fruition, and this lovely lady here is an important part of that. I don’t want any premature leaks to the press, so if I catch anyone trying to snap a picture of her with a phone, they will be fired on the spot. Vanessa and I will be working on her in my private office, and I don’t want to be disturbed. If it’s absolutely life-or-death important, buzz Vanessa’s phone and she’ll come out to see if it’s worth getting me. My phone will be off, so don’t bother calling, unless you simply adore my voice mail message. Okay, now get back to work!” He hopped down and led them to his office in the back.

There were a couple of folding screens set up, dividing the space. Claude stood over by one of them, and made Kay and Dee close their eyes. When he told them to open them, he’d moved one of the screens out of the way, and had rolled out a dress on a stand, and slowly spun it around so they could get a full view.

It was a beautiful deep red satin sleeveless creation, with a deep U-shaped neckline that exposed a fair amount of the headless mannequin’s cleavage. Vertical seams started just below the bust, and continued down along the tight waist, to flare out as pleats at the hips, puffed out with a crinoline lining. The skirt was shorter in front than in back. The mannequin didn’t have any legs, so Dee couldn’t be sure, but it looked like it would land somewhere around knee-length in the front, and fall to around mid-calf in back.

Dee realized why he was showing it to them, and her eyes opened wide. “Is that my dress for tomorrow? It’s very lovely. You’ve outdone yourself.”

Claude was proud of his masterpiece. “Thanks. I hope you recognized the color — it’s the same shade I put you in last year. I thought about using the exact same fabric, but I couldn’t make that heavier wool work as a gown. And actually, it’s your dress for today, too. We’ll be spending the day fitting you into it, and doing any alterations that are needed. Even though, as you can see, we used that casting that was taken of your body as a form, the real you has probably changed a little since then, and we want to get it perfect.”

Dee had almost forgotten about that casting. So that’s what that “headless mannequin” really was. Was that really her figure? It looked way too curvaceous. Sure she had boobs, but the rest of her body usually still felt square and boyish. The body this dress was wearing seemed much more feminine than hers ever did. But if it was made from that mold they made of her body, it would have to be. Did she dare think of herself as that sexy?

Claude told her to get undressed so she could try on her gown. He even had some special foundation garments for her, so she needed to take off everything. Dee got embarrassed and wanted a little privacy, so he said she could go behind the screen in the corner. Claude was amazed at how naturally female her reaction was. Even though he’d seen the photos and videos that Kay had emailed with her progress reports, it was still hard to believe. David had never been what you’d call a macho guy, but Kay had turned Dee into such a thoroughly feminine creature that Claude worried that maybe his plan had gone a little too far.

Dee needed Kay and Vanessa to go behind the screen and assist her in changing, which confused Claude even more. He’d seen David nude before, when he’d brought him to his health club for a game of squash or a steam, and he was never that shy. But now that Dee was a woman, she didn’t want Claude to see her, even though her private parts were the ones he’d already seen. Was it the breasts she didn’t want to show? He’d been working with a life-size silicone replica for weeks, plus she knew he was gay. Claude found it strange, but fascinating.

The girls helped Dee out of her cotton corset, but she didn’t get more than an instant of relief. It was replaced with a strapless black satin corset that like her other one scooped around the bottom edge of her breasts and left them exposed. But this time Vanessa pulled more of her flesh out above the underwire, to make her boobs seem even bigger.

Unlike her cotton corset, which was threaded with what were essentially extra-long shoelaces, the satin one was laced with a strong leather thong. Vanessa actually used some kind of tool to ratchet it tighter than the laces could have been pulled by hand, and as Dee gave one last exhale, she tightened it to the maximum and then crimped the ends together with a metal fastener.

Dee had to sit down and adjust her breathing so she wouldn’t hyperventilate. While she was seated, Vanessa took advantage of the opportunity and unrolled sheer black silk stockings up her legs, attaching them to the garters on her corset. Then she slipped Dee’s feet into a pretty pair of satin sandals with four-inch stiletto heels. Crisscrossing bands that seemed to be covered in the same fabric as her dress covered the vamp, and a thin ankle strap held it onto her foot.

Vanessa took Dee’s hand to help her stand up and then took a step back and looked at her with an appraising eye. She flipped through a pile of lingerie on a work table and pulled out a black satin bra for Dee to try on. It was her first push-up bra, and fastened in the front, which was a good thing since her corset impaired her flexibility. Dee was shocked to look down and see serious cleavage; her boobs were mashed together and making a deep vertical crevice. Vanessa adjusted the buckles on her bra straps to make it tight, and then showed Dee how to pull her breasts into the cups for maximum effect.

She led Dee over to a full-length mirror, and it looked like her boobs had doubled in size! She’d known what a push-up bra could do in the abstract, but it was completely different to see it in action on oneself! The power of her cleavage was so captivating that she couldn’t stop staring at her reflection. They were implants, squashed with padding, so they were doubly fake, but that didn’t make them any less compelling.

Vanessa brought Claude over to look, and he tilted his head one way, then the other, and scratched his chin. He pulled a different black satin push-up bra from the pile and told her to try that one instead. Vanessa immediately unhooked the first one, and Dee blushed and tried to cover herself. Claude chuckled to himself and turned his head away.

This second bra had hooks in the back, so Dee enlisted Kay’s help in getting it fastened. These push-up pads were tilted at a different angle than the other ones, so it made her enhanced cleavage more heart-shaped than straight vertical. Claude said it made her chest look less like a buttcrack, so they should go with that one.

Vanessa took the dress off the mannequin, and Dee was a little embarrassed to see the naked casting of her body, with its proudly erect nipples. Her own were getting a little stimulated from all the handling her breasts had been getting, so she tried not to think about it, and will them into submission.

They didn’t want to pull the gown over her head, since they wanted to simulate how it would go on her on the real day, when they wouldn’t want to risk mussing her hair or makeup. So they arranged the gown open on the floor and she had to step into it, being careful not to catch her heel on anything. Vanessa pulled it up her body and put her arms through the sleeves, and then Claude zipped it up.

He didn’t want to catch her hair in the zipper, so he stopped halfway. He took the scrunchie out and let her ponytail out, then regathered her hair higher on her head, put the scrunchie back in, and folded her hair over into a bun. Then he finished zipping her up.

Dee thought it looked perfect, but Claude and Vanessa went around just about every inch, making little chalk marks and sticking the dress (and sometimes Dee) with pins. They were pretty much ignoring her, except when she moved when they didn’t want her to, or when they wanted her to move, to see how it hung when she walked, or sat down, or stood up from sitting. They wouldn’t even let her talk, so she just made eye contact with Kay and tried to communicate through slight facial expressions.

Eventually they finished making notes and unzipped her, and took the dress over to a worktable. She was allowed to sit down again, and gave her a short kimono robe when she asked if she could get dressed. Then she got to sit and wait while it looked like Vanessa and Claude took the whole dress apart. They ripped out seams, and cut some pieces smaller, cut other new pieces out of raw fabric, brought some parts over to a steamer to remove pleats, and others to a press to get new ones. And there was a lot of sewing, some by hand, some by machine.

After an amount of time that was probably a couple hours but felt like weeks, they had the dress reassembled and looking as far as Dee could tell exactly like it looked before. She had to take off her robe and step into the dress again, and this time it did fit a little better. It was tight, but not too tight, like it was exactly the shape of her body. (Well, her body minus a bit where her waist was corseted, plus a bit where her bust was padded.)

They had her walk around the room and do a couple catwalk turns, and Claude wasn’t quite satisfied that it was dramatic enough. He wanted to raise the angle of the hemline so it came a good six inches above her knee in front, to almost that much past her knee in the back. He also wanted to swap the dyed-to-match crinoline for black. And to draw more attention away from her wide shoulders, he wanted to lower the neckline almost to her bra cups.

It sounded almost a little too risqué for Dee’s taste, and she needed reassurance from Claude that he was going to keep her outfit looking tasteful. He tried to just dismiss her worries, but she grew more concerned and tried to make it clear that she was already taking major chances and he’d promised her that she’d look glamorous on the red carpet. The previous year he’d put David in a “pimp suit,” and she didn’t want to end up looking like one of the pimp’s stable of “hos.”

Dee got so anxious that she started hyperventilating, and Kay had to rush to calm her down so she didn’t pass out. She made Claude listen seriously to Dee’s questions. He went back to desk and pulled out his scrapbook of past Oscar gowns. He showed her that many of the classy actresses wore dresses with low scooping décolletage. Dee pointed out, however, that none of them were also showing off a lot of leg; most of the hemlines reached the ground.

Claude showed her a few ladies that did attend the awards in knee-length dresses, but none of them seemed to say “Hollywood Glamour” to her. There were some elegant actresses showing off their legs, but it was generally via a long gown with a high slit. Claude thought about it, then got out his sketch pad and roughed out a longer skirt.

He said, “Ordinarily, I wouldn’t make these kinds of changes at the last minute. But since I love you like a brother, er, sister, er, sibling of some sort, I’ll do what I can to ease your worries. I’ll keep my idea for bringing the neckline down, but I’ll also lower the hemline. I won’t drop my concept of the angled skirt, and I think the view through to a black crinoline will be interesting, but I’ll bring it down in back far enough to almost kiss the carpet, and in front I’ll bring it down to just past your knee, around here.” He touched a spot on Dee’s leg. “Would that make you feel better?”

Dee nodded. “I think so, but do you really have the time to make such major changes? Making it longer would mean like cutting whole new pieces, right? Do you even have enough of the right fabric?”

“I bought plenty of this silk, in anticipation for when your gown is the talk of the town. And I also have this awesome computer-controlled laser cutter machine. I’ll give Vanessa the rough dimensions, and she’ll go into the console where we’ve got the pattern saved, and extend it to the new measurements, then tell one of my burlier minions to load the bolt of this silk into the cutter and tell it to go. It shouldn’t take much more than an hour to get all the pieces cut. You just sit there and wait.”

Dee had to stand still while they brought a measuring tape over to her and noted how much each of the panels of the skirt would need to be increased, and then Kay helped her out of her gown and back into her robe while Vanessa and Claude went over the numbers. Dee interrupted to ask when they’d be stopping for lunch. Claude laughed and apologized for being rude. He was just so used to models who were satisfied with a bottle of water and a smoke break that he hadn’t even thought about getting Dee lunch. Kay volunteered to go get takeout and bring it back. Claude and Vanessa both wanted sandwiches, but Dee was still too nervous and corseted to eat a whole lot so she asked for just some kind of light salad.

It was fascinating watching them work. They ripped all the seams out of the skirt panels from the dress, pressed out the pleats, and then chalked new dimensions on the pieces themselves. As they worked at the computer, Dee considered what they were doing as a sort of textile engineering. There was actually a lot of math involved, since the skirt flared out at an angle and finished off with a curve. They adjusted the dimensions on all the pieces in their pattern, and then “sewed them together” virtually on the screen to see if it made the right shape.

Lunch arrived while they were still working out the details, and Dee held off eating until Vanessa and Claude were ready, and they wanted to wait until they were done on the computer. A couple of bits needed a little tweaking, but then Vanessa went to take the instructions to the cutting machine. Dee wanted to go watch the cool machine, but Claude wouldn’t let her leave his office. At least it had an attached bathroom.

Vanessa came back with the freshly cut new panels while Dee was on her potty break. She would have been finished faster if she hadn’t refastened her garters twice. It may have been more convenient with them running under her panties, but it just didn’t look right. She also had to take a moment at the mirror to fix her lipstick and fiddle with her hair.

The sewing went fairly quickly, considering that they had thirty seams to stitch together and then crease into pleats. It was a little monotonous to watch, though. Kay and Dee killed time reading through some of the fashion trade magazines that had accumulated in Claude’s office. Dee hit upon an article about a Milan fashion show, and right in the middle there was a photo of Maritza.

That seemed to summon a whole new swarm of butterflies in her tummy. In only one day, she was going to see her girlfriend again! At least, she hoped Maritza was still her girlfriend. She was a beautiful, sexy model and had been mingling among beautiful, sexy people for a month — maybe she’d found someone new. Or maybe she’d take one look at Dee and throw her to the curb. Maritza had been very gung-ho about David’s becoming more feminine, but what if that was just a fantasy for her and the reality of it would turn her off? What if she wasn’t attracted to Dee any more?

Kay saw the color leaving Dee’s face, and slid over on the couch. She reached out and took Dee’s hand by the wrist, checking her pulse with a finger. “Honey, your heart is racing. You’ve got to calm down. I know tomorrow’s a big day, but you have mastered everything I’ve thrown at you. Believe me when I say you will do flawlessly tomorrow.”

Dee flopped her head over onto Kay’s shoulder. “Thanks for your confidence, but that’s not exactly what’s got me worrying this time.” She sighed. “I’d tell you, but it’s against your rules. I’m not supposed to think about my life before.”

Kay stroked her hand. “I don’t really think we’re going to have any more lessons between now and tomorrow morning, so there isn’t much I could do if you broke my rules now. Besides, we’ve got your best friend right here, so I already broke my rules. I think you can start reconnecting with your life. I’m pretty sure it won’t reverse any of the progress you’ve made. The feminine persona you’ve created runs fairly deep — I’ll bet you’ve even stopped thinking of yourself in male terms. So what’s bothering you, D?”

She gestured at the magazine. “There was an article in there with a picture of Maritza, and it got me worrying that maybe she wouldn’t like the new me as much as she thought she would when she talked me into doing this. What am I going to do if she doesn’t want me anymore?”

Kay brushed a tear that was running down Dee’s cheek. “You are a wonderful person, beautiful inside and out. If she doesn’t want you any more, she’s a fool, and I’m sure you’ll have no difficulty finding suitors of either gender to replace her, if it came to it.”

Claude called from the other side of the room. “Pardon me for eavesdropping, but you’ve got nothing to worry about. If anything, Maritza is more nuts about you than ever.”

Dee sniffled. “But how do you know?”

“I know large-breasted women have a reputation for intellectual inferiority, so maybe something about carrying around a pair lowers your IQ. Maritza has been staying with me; remember? I’ve been sharing Kay’s progress reports on you with her, and she practically drools over every photo we’ve been sent. She’s printed one and has it in a frame on her nightstand. And then there’s the videos! She’s watched them all dozens of times. You don’t even want to know what I caught her doing to that one where you’re wiggling your hips in an ultra-miniskirt.” Claude thought for a moment. “Well, actually you probably do want to know, but I’m not going to tell you. Use your imagination.”

Dee’s face broke into a very broad smile as she did just that. She was so relieved that Maritza still found her new shape attractive that she didn’t waste any energy on feeling violated that Kay had been sending things to Claude without telling her. Claude was the one paying for it, so it made some kind of sense even if she still should have let Dee know about it. She made a mental note to get upset about it once her joy wore off.

Dee could barely contain herself and ran over to give Claude a little squeeze and a kiss on the cheek in appreciation for letting her know. Maritza liked the look of David as a woman! That was great news; especially since Dee wasn’t sure she’d being going back any time soon, if at all. Femininity seemed to fit too well to just give it all up, and it was also a hell of a lot of fun. Although apparently waiting around for a dress fitting could be boring. She considered asking why they had to wait until the day before the awards show to do this, but maybe it was Kay’s fault, since by her rules Dee wasn’t allowed to have contact with Claude.

She felt stupid for not asking sooner, and asked if there was something she could do to help them work on the dress. It was frustrating sitting around idle while watching people being industrious. Unfortunately, Claude said that it would take longer to explain to her what was needed than it would to do it himself. She had to go back and sit on the couch and wait. Dee really wished that like Kay she’d brought a book in her purse.

For the lack of anything better to do, Dee borrowed a pen and a pad of paper and started working on an acceptance speech. Her chance of needing one was very slim but since she didn’t have anything better to do, it couldn’t hurt to have something prepared, just in case. It also got her mind completely focused, so she lost track of what was happening in the rest of the room. It was refreshing to know that she could still get into that writing zone and just tune out all the distractions.

Dee was working for a while when she had a weird feeling and looked up. Kay was staring at her. “What?”

Kay just shook her head. “Your body language just seems so natural. The way you were cradling that notepad in the crook of your elbow instead of just holding it in your hand was perfect, even though I never showed you to do that. And in the moment of intense thought you just had, when you twirled your finger in your hair and chewed on your lower lip a little it was absolutely adorable! Your feminine instincts are amazing. I’m wondering if you really needed me at all.”

Dee set down her pad and leaned over to give Kay a hug. “Oh I definitely needed you! There’s no way I wouldn’t be panicking about this thing if you hadn’t taught me everything I needed to fit into the world of women as easily as I will fit into that dress that they’re making over there, customized to every one of my measurements. You have helped me so much, and I will truly miss you when you’re done with me tomorrow.”

Kay felt a tear roll down her cheek. “Oh, I may be moving back to my own place, but I doubt I’ll be done with you forever. Our relationship is more than just professional. I’m not that far away in Pasadena. When you get your phone back I’ll give you my number, and we can get together some time. Most of my students don’t get the 24/7 treatment, so I usually have free time.” She hugged Dee tightly for a moment before releasing her. “So I’m sure that our goodbye tomorrow won’t be forever.”

Claude interrupted their moment. It was time for another fitting. He made Dee go wash her face so she wouldn’t get any salt stains on her gown. She could tell there was obviously more dress this time, even when just stepping into it. The longer skirt needed a little more arranging after Vanessa zipped her up, but it did look much better. Claude had to admit that the shorter hem would have made the visible crinoline lining look a little too “Moulin Rouge,” but on the fuller skirt it brought that air of mystery he was looking for.

There was another round of pins and chalk marks, and Vanessa spent a good amount of time pushing Dee’s boobs around, trying to ensure that her gown was revealing the ideal amount of cleavage without going too far. She said that they’d try a different bra on Sunday, and that she might end up needing to use an adhesive to prevent any wardrobe malfunctions. Dee was unzipped from her dress and she got back into her robe and returned to the couch to wait.

She went back to fiddling with her speech, and soon dropped back into the zone, tuning the rest of them out. So she had no idea how much time had passed when Claude told her they were ready for her to try again. This time around, Vanessa slipped some little pads shaped like squashed footballs into her bra cups first, and tried a few different positions before being satisfied. It felt very weird for Dee to be groped by a cute girl, and not feel any kind of stimulation. Kay’s tea was working its magic on her — she hoped it would wear off in time when Maritza came home on Sunday. She blushed at where her mind was wandering, and hoped they didn’t notice.

Her gown now fit perfectly, and in the full-length mirror it looked beautiful! The fuller skirt made her feel like a fairy tale princess, while its raised front edge showed her pretty shoes and made her less afraid of tripping. She wasn’t exactly comfortable with showing off her boobs so much, but the whole point of getting them was so they could be shown off. Dee would just have to get used to it.

She twirled around happily, enjoying the way her gown moved. Claude had her slow down and perform a more fashionable turn so she could check out how her dress looked from all angles. She was very satisfied, and tried to give Claude a big hug in appreciation, but he backed away so the gown wouldn’t wrinkle. She had to wait for Vanessa to unzip her and gently remove her dress, and then she threw her arms around Claude and gave him a big hug and a kiss.

Claude got really embarrassed, even though he’d been around models in their underwear before. But somehow since this woman was really his friend David it was weird to have her/him embrace him while wearing only lingerie. It seemed to cross a line. He hurried to fetch Dee’s robe and wrapped her up in it, but then she realized that if they were done trying on the gown she could get dressed in her street clothes again, so she took it off immediately. Claude tried to hide.

Dee asked Kay to unlace her corset so she could change, but it had been sealed up tightly with no free ends. Vanessa brought over a special pair of scissors (she said they were strong enough to cut a penny) and carefully snipped the leather thong, without damaging the corset or injuring Dee. She said that she’d make sure to leave a pair of scissors like those at Dee’s place for when she got home Sunday night. Maritza would have to cut her out of her undergarments.

Dee gave Vanessa back the bra and then put her top back on. Her body really enjoyed being able to breathe again so she took a moment to just deeply fill her lungs a few times. She was done having her hair up all day, so the scrunchie came out and she shook her head until her chestnut waves hung loosely. She sat down and took her shoes off, then gently unrolled her stockings and returned them. She pulled up her knee-highs and then got back into her jeans. Lastly, she got her boots back on and grabbed her purse.

Since it would be Kay’s last night as her guest, Dee thought she’d make a special dinner, and invited Claude and Vanessa to share it with them. Claude not only turned down her offer, but also told her that she couldn’t have a big meal. She should eat something light, like soup. They couldn’t take any chances that she’d gain any weight before her debut. Dee thought that he was being silly, but agreed to humor him. She did promise to have them all over for dinner some time in the following week, everyone’s schedule permitting.

Claude’s further instructions were that she take a long, relaxing bath after eating, but to wear a shower cap to keep her hair from getting wet, and then go to sleep early. She needed to be well-rested for the cameras. When she was ready for bed, he wanted Kay to lace her into a clean one of her cotton corsets. She could choose her own nightgown.

They were to come back to the studio in the morning at the same time again, but she was only allowed to have coffee for breakfast. Dee could wear whatever clothing she wanted, but no makeup at all, and he didn’t even want her to have any deodorant on. She asked if she could wear her own perfume, and he said not to, but she could bring a bottle of her scent and apply it later.

Dee was a good girl and did as she was told. When they got home, she heated up some homemade chicken soup from the freezer. Kay told her that it was delicious enough that Dee hadn’t needed to do something extra-fancy for their last meal alone together. Kay even thanked her by cleaning up when they were finished. She told Dee that she’d been an excellent hostess for the past month.

Kay also had a surprise for her before her bath. They’d be using a restraint with a stronger adhesive than her usual tape on Sunday, and it would attach a little higher. And it needed a smooth surface, so she gave Dee a bikini wax to remove her little patch of hair. She did her best to make it hurt as little as possible, but it still stung. Dee was grateful to slip into a tubful of warm water infused with moisturizing bath oil and playful bubbles.

Dee was way too nervous and excited to relax, even though Kay had given her an extra-soothing cup of herbal tea. She ran her hands along her breasts as they tried to hide beneath the bubbles. It was strange how they seemed like a normal part of her body, in such a short time. Would other surgeries feel just as natural? While her left hand continued to idly stroke her nipple, she ran her right hand down her body and asked herself some questions. What would it feel like if she got her waist tucked in there and there, so she wouldn’t need that awful corset anymore? Or what if she got some kind of implants or injections to round out her hips, or even got her butt inflated somehow, would that feel sexy or just weird?

She brought her hand around, down below her newly smooth and tender spot, and tried not to let her mind go there. But her curiosity was in control; whether she wanted to or not, she couldn’t help trying to imagine what it would be like if she did some remodeling down there. How would it feel if her panties could fit her snugly all the way around, with no unsightly bulges or things that needed to be tucked out of the way? What would it be like if that part there were shrunk down into just a little button of a thing, and those were gone, so this here was just a soft pair of lips?

If there were another entrance into her body, would it feel like it belonged there, or would she mourn for that which was missing? That the idea didn’t horrify her came as a surprise, and she promised herself to think about it some more in the future, when she was no longer taking libido suppressors and those parts would be able to voice an opinion on the subject. She probably ought to get Maritza’s vote on the matter, too. But for the moment they were just in the way, so she made sure everything was clean down there and then put it all out of her mind.

Dee just concentrated on slowing her breathing down to a calmer pace, and enjoyed the nice floral scent of her bath oil. She was tempted to slide down until she was completely covered by water, but that wasn’t allowed since she wasn’t supposed to get her hair wet. Almost all her sore muscles had released their tension by the time Kay came to put her to bed one last time, in matching white cotton panties, corset and long nightie. Kay brushed her hair for her and gave her a little kiss on the forehead before tucking her in.

Dee had a bizarre dream where she was immensely pregnant. Claude was trying to calm her down and she was shrieking at him that it was all his fault. There was a tremendous ripping sound as her genitals split in half, and a lot of blood and disgusting stuff poured out and finally a baby. Kay, in a nurse’s outfit, caught the baby and handed it to her. Dee looked down at a miniature version of herself dressed up in a pretty red dress. “Congratulations! It’s a girl!” The shock of it actually woke Dee up, but with some difficulty she was able to get back to sleep.

***

Morning came too quickly. Dee almost felt hung over. She lazily got dressed in green striped panties and a blue tank dress. Since apparently her chest had finished healing, she went braless just to see what it would feel like. That was a mistake; they bounced around all over the place, and it was no fun whatsoever. She also skipped hose and wore a pair of leather gladiator sandals with two-inch heels, almost the lowest shoes in her wardrobe. It was annoying that she wasn’t allowed to wear makeup, since she didn’t know how many of Claude’s workers would be there. She put on her sunglasses so her face wouldn’t be completely naked.

Kay met her in the kitchen for a quick breakfast of orange juice and coffee. She warned Dee that she wouldn’t be spending all day hanging out with her at Claude’s like she did the day before. She’d stay until Dee was dressed, but not much longer after that. Kay had seen the schedule they’d planned for Dee, and it kept her pretty busy through until just before the awards ceremony. Dee was disappointed, but understood. It must have been very boring for Kay on Saturday just sitting there for all those hours during Dee’s fitting session. It was just sad that her nearly constant companion for these past weeks would be leaving sooner. They finished their drinks, shared a hug, and then hit the road.

Claude had been nervously waiting by the door for them, so he wasted no time as soon as they arrived. He ushered Dee to a dressing room where Vanessa had everything ready for her. Kay picked up a bottle and a triangular piece of fabric, and asked the others to give them some privacy. She explained that Claude and she had discussed ways of making sure none of Dee’s surprises were prematurely revealed if she were to accidentally fall on the red carpet, or if a particularly evil paparazzo managed to get an upskirt view as she got out of the car.

He had shown Kay how he’d keep models in his runway shows from getting visible “camel-toes” when showing lingerie or swimwear collections. They’d attach this piece of thick flesh-tone moleskin with spirit gum along the edges to cover their genital area, and it would smooth out the contours. Kay had made a couple of alterations so it would better serve Dee’s needs. First, she’d made it a little longer so it could be firmly attached to Dee’s perineum. Second, she’d put a small hole in it so that Dee would still be able to urinate with it in place, if necessary. Kay had needed to argue with Claude for that feature. He was used to making his models endure discomfort. The other change she made was to switch from spirit gum to a stronger medical adhesive. She assured Dee that there was a bottle of the solvent she’d need to take it off back at home in her bathroom.

Kay had Dee remove her dress and panties and sit on a stool with her legs spread. As requested, Dee hadn’t done a tuck and tape when she’d dressed, so she was feeling very naked and vulnerable. Kay donned a pair of rubber gloves and then set to work Dee tried not to pay attention to what was happening, and just looked up at the ceiling until Kay announced she was finished. Dee stood up and could feel that parts were being squished and squashed, but in the mirror it all looked as smooth and featureless as a mannequin.

Kay helped her into the panties they’d set out for her, a black tanga-cut pair made almost entirely of soft lace. Despite their sheerness, once they’d been pulled into place nothing looked at all out of the ordinary. They’d done such a good match with the color of the moleskin that it just looked like bare skin beneath the lace. And there were absolutely no clues that male parts were concealed inside.

She signaled that they were okay for Vanessa and Claude to come back. Dee sat on her stool with her arms crossed, keeping her breasts covered. It was time for Dee to take the last deep breaths she’d be getting for a while, as Vanessa brought out the corset from the day before (or one exactly like it.) She aligned the cutouts in the front with Dee’s breasts and made her hold it in place while she wrapped it around her and laced it up with a leather thong again. She also brought out her fancy tool for tightening the laces, and when she was satisfied that it was as tight as possible, she crimped the metal clamp onto the ends, then trimmed off the excess.

Vanessa next helped Dee into her bra. It was another black satin push-up bra with lace trim, but this one had the cups at a different angle than either of the other two she’d tried, so her breasts were forced together to form a nicely shaped cleavage. Once the bra was in place, Vanessa pulled Dee’s breasts as far up as possible, and treated the cups with an adhesive to keep them from slipping. It wasn’t quite as strong as what Kay had used; she told Dee that she probably wouldn’t need a solvent to get her bra off.

Dee was wrapped in a tiny kimono again, and led to a seat in front of a mirror. Tomas appeared and greeted her with a warm smile. One of his assistants was pushing a wheeled case behind him with their implements.

He gave her an air kiss hello. “I’m here to do your hair for tonight. I apologize that Jeffrey couldn’t be here to do your makeup; he had other clients who need to look pretty for the big show tonight. But lucky for you Claude was able to get Solange to agree to do you. Isn’t that wonderful?” The way he paused after the name made it seem like he expected Dee to recognize it, but she didn’t. She just smiled and let him set to work on her hair.

Claude showed Tomas The Dress where it was hanging across the room, and showed him some sketches of what he’d been thinking of for her hairstyle. Tomas came back at him with some ideas of his own, and grabbed a pencil and made his own sketch. Claude then erased part of his drawing and changed it, and then Tomas came back with some changes of his own. This went on for a while, as they argued with descriptions and terms that just weren’t in Dee’s vocabulary.

Finally they settled on a plan. Tomas told his assistant to prep the big rollers. He brushed out Dee’s hair, making sure there weren’t any tangles or split ends. He didn’t find much, and complimented her on her good hair care regimen. When her hair was all smooth and pretty and shiny, he ruined it by spraying a fine mist of mostly water from a spray bottle, until it got fairly damp. Then he had her lean forward, as he started rolling her hair onto big heated curlers, starting from the back. When she finally was allowed to lift her head back, she saw in the mirror that her head was just covered in rollers. She felt like a housewife from the fifties.

While Dee sat there waiting for her curls to set, Tomas had his assistant check her fingers and toes to see if any of her color needed a touch-up. There was a chip on her left pinky toe that needed to be fixed, so she had to take off her shoe and get a foam separator thing shoved between her toes. The girl (Dee never got her name) actually stripped all the polish off of her toe and started over with a fresh basecoat, two layers of color, and then a shiny topcoat. They didn’t want to take the time to wait for every coat to dry naturally, so Tomas actually made her wave a hairdryer at Dee’s toe so it would go faster.

He took the rollers out of her hair when they had cooled down, and she ended up with curls on her head. Tomas said that the body wave they’d given her on Friday just wasn’t dramatic enough, and she had to agree. Dee was so tempted to just spin her head back and forth to watch the curls bounce, but he wouldn’t let her. Sadly, some of her pretty curls would not be allowed to bounce free. From her forehead to just above her ears, he pulled her hair taut along her scalp and secured it along the crown of her head in a fancy kind of braid shape held together with hidden pins. She worried that he was going to that all the way down, but he told her they’d decided to give her a “partial updo,” and leave the back half of her hair hanging loose. Dee giggled that it almost looked like a mullet from the front, but the back did look very impressive and reminded her of other hairstyles she’d seen on starlets on the red carpet. Tomas really did know what he was doing.

When her hair was done, Dee got to take a restroom break. She’d gone while tucked and taped up before, but in her new restraint it felt weird. She knew those parts were still there, but she couldn’t even see them. All that was there was a little hole. She wiped very carefully to keep the moleskin dry, more of a delicate blotting actually. Dee was very nervous, but at least she was sure she’d pass as believably female. The person looking back at her from the mirror as she washed her hands was definitely a woman, with very pretty hair.

When she returned to her seat she was introduced to Solange. She was a tall, slender woman with a flawless bronze complexion, slightly almond-shaped eyes and wavy jet-black hair pulled back in a bun held together with ivory chopsticks. Dee could not figure out her ethnicity, and her vaguely French accent didn’t help. She explained, “Now Claude has told me you aren’t a professional model or actress used to having someone else do your makeup, so I will try to be patient with you. But you must do exactly as I say. Okay?”

Dee nodded and said she’d do her best. Solange had her take out her earrings and then she started by thoroughly cleansing Dee’s skin with a fairly strong astringent. Dee winced as it stung, and earned a reprimand. Solange wanted her to sit as still as possible, without talking or fidgeting. She followed the cleansing with a soothing moisturizer, even going down her throat to the visible part of her breasts. She told Dee to relax her face and put on as blank an expression as possible, to try thinking of an empty cardboard box if necessary.

Like an artist, combined pigments until she got the exact color she wanted for Dee’s foundation, and mixed it up on the spot. She used mostly organic mineral colorants, in a base that should set and last all day through hot lights without running. She used bits of natural sea sponge to apply it, blending lighter and darker tones along the way to highlight and contour where needed.

Solange asked Dee, “So tell me; what color are your lover’s eyes?”

It was a weird question, but without thinking too much she very easily pictured Maritza’s face. “Big and brown and beautiful,” she sighed.

“I need to find your cheeks, so I want you to think of those eyes and smile for me.”

Dee almost did it without being asked. She could feel her whole face beaming. She was in love with a wonderful person, and she’d be seeing her soon!

“Very good.” Solange put a few more colors on her palette and blended them onto Dee’s cheeks, and feathered a little into her cleavage. “Alright, I need you to go blank again. Focus back on that cardboard box.” She tipped Dee’s head back and squirted two drops from a little bottle into each eye, had her close her eyes and then brought her head back upright.

Dee could feel the applicator on her lids, and could tell she was getting eye shadow. It seemed backwards to her since she’d always done liner first, then mascara, then shadow. But Solange was a professional, so she must know what she was doing. It seemed like a fairly complicated eye shadow too, based on the number of passes across her lids she was taking. She felt the unmistakable brush of a mascara wand across her lashes several times before she was told to open her eyes.

Solange brushed mascara onto the inside of her lashes, top and bottom, and then used an eyelash curler on all four sets of lashes. There must have been something special in the mascara because the curl really held. Her lashes looked long and thick and amazing. Dee barely had time to catch a glance of herself in the mirror before she had to tilt her head back and look up.

There must have been some kind of anesthetic in the eyedrops she’d given Dee, because she could barely feel it when Solange brushed on eyeliner right against the edge of her lids. She painted on a thin line of white inside a thin line of black, and it made Dee’s eyes really pop!

To finish out the eye area, she applied a brown powder to Dee’s eyebrows and combed it in. She also decided that there were a few hairs that needed to be tweezed, and a couple that she merely trimmed shorter with a tiny pair of scissors. Solange seemed satisfied with everything so far, so she went over her entire face with a powder that she said would hold it all in place when it set up, and add a little extra luster when the bright lights hit her skin. She even powdered all the way down into her exposed cleavage.

She used a damp sponge to clean off any powder that inadvertently got on her mouth, and then had Dee keep her blank expression but open her mouth slightly. With a fine paintbrush, she began to put a deep red color onto Dee’s lips, just a shade brighter than her dress. Solange had Dee purse her lips into a pucker so she could blot them a couple of times. When she was satisfied with the color, she let it sit a minute then blotted again, and this time very little came off. She then went over it with a different brush and a very shiny gloss to go on top, which was also a longwearing variety. She promised Dee that as long as she didn’t do too much eating, drinking, or kissing, she shouldn’t need to reapply anything, but she’d give her a pot of color and gloss and a lip brush to carry in her bag just in case.

When she’d finished with Dee’s makeup, Solange called Tomas back over. He used a pick and pulled Dee’s bangs out of the updo and out onto her forehead, and gave them a quick press in his large-barreled curling iron so they had the right curve. He also pulled a lock of hair out of the bundle on each side of her head, and coiled those into tighter ringlets with a narrower curling iron. Tomas then sprayed her hair with a generous coat of hairspray, so nothing would get out of place.

They turned her so she could get a good look in the mirror. They’d done an incredible job! She’d considered herself kind of pretty before, but her reflection was that of a truly beautiful woman, whose face seemed to convey a combination of sultriness and doe-eyed innocence. Her eyes seemed larger than before, and really demanded attention. Their lids were smoky and sophisticated. Her face seemed to have changed shape; her cheekbones never seemed so pronounced before. And her glistening, full lips seemed to be asking to be kissed. She looked like something out of a magazine, but she wasn’t sure if that made her a supermodel or a centerfold. She practiced a few flirty expressions in the mirror.

Claude said she could have a lunch break, and brought her a can with a straw sticking out of it. It was a vitamin-enriched supplement that would provide enough nutrients to make sure she wouldn’t pass out from hunger, without bloating her out or causing any significant change in weight, so her dress would be certain to still fit. And the straw made sure its impact on her makeup would be minimal. Looking around the room as she sipped, Dee realized that Kay was no longer there. She hadn’t noticed when she’d left. She didn’t even say goodbye.

Vanessa put on white cotton gloves and rolled Dee’s stocking up her legs. They were sheer black and real silk. She put some adhesive on the tops so they wouldn’t sag even if one of Dee’s garters gave out. She slipped the fancy shoes she’d worn the day before onto her feet and buckled them up. Vanessa asked Dee if she’d brought a fragrance, and she fetched the perfume bottle from her purse for her.

She asked Dee to remove her robe, and then had her raise her arms over her head. She quickly cleaned her underarms with baby wipes, and then dry tissues, and finished up with a blast from an antiperspirant spray. Dee had to stand with her arms out until the spray dried. Vanessa then misted a cloud of her perfume and had her walk into it, then gave her a dab on each wrist, behind each ear, and between her breasts.

Vanessa gave her another bathroom break before it was time to put her dress on. But she wasn’t allowed to have her robe back so she had to walk across the room in her underwear and pretend not to notice all the people. It was much too embarrassing for Dee; she decided that she’d never cut it as a model. They have to let people see them in their underwear all the time. She finished her business and crossed that room again.

Claude had brought a few more of his assistants over to help get her into the dress. They held it spread out for her to step into, and then came together as Claude zipped her up, and then they all backed off. He led her to a full-length mirror. She felt like a teenage girl going to the prom, or a fairy-tale princess, or maybe even a bride with an unusually colored dress. It was difficult trying to accept that the glamorous beauty she was seeing was really her!

Claude wasn’t finished. He had her bend her head forward, and he hooked a pair of earrings onto her ears, and reached around behind her to fasten a necklace. They were matching brilliant teardrop-shaped red stones in gold fixtures. The weight on her ears made her think they might be real rubies and not fake ones. Claude asked if she recognized them; they were the same pieces he’d rented for Maritza the previous year, but he’d gone ahead and bought them, so this year Dee could keep them if she wanted to; she should consider them a gift in appreciation for going through with this whole project.

Dee gave him the best hug she could manage without smudging or wrinkling anything, and thanked him deeply for the jewels. She’d have to find a way to attend more formal events, to give her an excuse to wear her nice things.

Claude brought her to a room in his studio that was set up for doing photography sessions. He told Dee that he wanted to get some pictures of her in her gown in a controlled setting that he’d release to the press as soon as the Oscar broadcast began. He was sure that people would be talking about her and he wanted to control the story somewhat.

Dee asked if Claude would send a copy of that press release to Nadine a little in advance, so she could handle any questions and refer most of them to Claude’s people. Dee started worrying that doing such a major publicity stunt without notifying her publicist might not have been such a good idea.

She asked Claude if he knew when she’d be getting her phone back, and Tomas spoke up that he’d actually brought it with him. David’s boxes of stuff had been kept in their storeroom, and before Antoine came to pick them up that morning, he’d grabbed her phone for her, since he’d be seeing her first. He figured that if she won her Oscar, she’d want to be able to receive all the calls of congratulations from her friends and family.

Dee was happy to get her phone back, and it even looked like Tomas (or someone) had been nice enough to fully charge it for her. She had a bunch of voicemail messages, so she rushed through them quickly. The first one was a really cute message from Maritza saying she wanted to be the first thing David heard when he got his phone back. There was one from David’s publisher wishing him luck at the awards. But the rest were from Nadine. Mainly she was frustrated by David’s cutting off all contact right before a very high-publicity event, but she was also being pestered by people on Jane Waters’ staff. It felt like she was planning some more major humiliation for David to boost her ratings, and that had Nadine worried. Dee was hopeful that their plan for revenge on her would be successful in shutting her up.

She threw together a quick text to Nadine: “Sorry for being incommunicado for this past month. You’ll find out why shortly. I’ve been working on something that should get me some attention tonight. If you decide to quit working for me, I’ll understand; it was beyond rude of me to keep this from you. But if you will stay with me through what will possibly be some obnoxiously busy times, I promise that I will agree to whatever publicity gig you want me to work, with no complaints, even if you want me to do a book tour of the Deep South in August. Please don’t be too mad. —D”

Vanessa had put Dee’s perfume and the cosmetics Solange had given Dee for making emergency repairs in a clutch bag that matched her gown. When Dee finished her text and closed her phone she put it in the bag and Vanessa zipped it up. She introduced Dee to Roxanne, the photographer who’d be taking her picture. She was a wild-haired blonde, in maybe her late thirties or early forties, and either had excellent skin or was a master of the makeup technique that made it look like you weren’t wearing any. She was dressed in simple blue jeans and work boots and an unbuttoned bowling shirt over a pink tank, but she carried herself with an air of elegance.

Roxanne touched the side of her nose and winked. “Claude told me your secret, but from the way you look I’d never have been able to guess. You’ve never done this before, so I’ll help you through it, showing you exactly how I want you to pose. Before I got too old and had to retire, I used to work on the other side of the camera, so you can trust me.”
She smiled, but Dee wasn’t sure whether to be reassured or terrified.

Roxanne put her through a grueling number of poses, some with her straight on to the camera, some with her looking off to the side, and a couple even had her looking back over her shoulder, mostly with her standing, but Roxanne tried a few with her seated on a box, and one weird one with her jumping into the air. She also had her try each pose with a number of different facial expressions.

Dee used Solange’s trick of picturing Maritza’s eyes to smile, and she did okay at trying a “playful pout,” but she needed a lot of help when Roxanne wanted her to make a “sexy” expression. She tried copying the face Roxanne was making, with her eyes almost closed, and her mouth open a little, but it just wasn’t working. She had to start from scratch, and banish any sense of shame while trying to imagine that standing just to the left of the camera was someone she was aching for, that as soon as the picture was done her dress was going to hit the floor. After twelve tries or so, Roxanne was finally satisfied. Then she made her try the same poses in front of a different colored backdrop.

Tomas and Solange were on hand to fix her hair and makeup any time Roxanne made her muss it up for a shot, but Claude had to step out for a while to get dressed. He came back wearing an identical tuxedo to the one David had worn the year before. It really did look like a pimp suit. Dee had to laugh. But then he joined in the picture, and Roxanne had them in a number of different poses together. Most of them were straightforward, like the two of them facing the camera side by side, or facing each other, but then Roxanne got a little playful.

She had Dee take advantage of the extra height she had on Claude, especially in her heels, and made her bring her hand up behind his head and muss his hair while they were standing forward. Then she did one where they were posed as if they were waltzing, and then made Claude try to dip her. He couldn’t hold her up and Dee fell over laughing and pushed her skirt between her knees to avoid flashing anyone, but Roxanne might have snapped her picture quickly enough to catch a glimpse of garter.

Then there were some poses that made Dee really uncomfortable, where she had to kiss Claude. At first it was just a silly one, where Claude was rigid and facing the camera, while Dee leaned over puckered up and almost touched his cheek with her lips. Then it got a little wilder, where Roxanne unbuttoned Claude’s shirt and had Dee run her shiny nails across his chest while biting his ear. Roxanne wanted her to leave kiss prints on Claude’s face, but her lipstick was long-wearing and wouldn’t rub off. So she had Solange get some regular lipstick in the same color, and Roxanne wore it herself to cover Claude’s face with kisses. It was kind of fun for Dee to see him squirm. But it just got really weird when Roxanne wanted a pose where they were seriously embracing. Claude whispered an apology and kissed her as gently as he could, cradling her face in his hands. It was nice, but it was like kissing your brother or something, kind of weird.

At least they got to take a break after that to fix everyone’s makeup. Dee even got to sip another can of yummy nutrient liquid. She realized that she had no idea what time it was, and wondered how much longer they’d be spending taking pictures before it was time for the show. But she didn’t get more than a moment to herself when it was time to go back and pose again.

Roxanne had her stand in front of a plain grayish curtain at one end of the room and told her, “Now in this shot I want you to imagine that you’re a girl who hasn’t seen her boyfriend for a very long time, but any minute now he’ll be coming through that door over there.” Roxanne pointed at a side door to the room, just past her left shoulder. “Can I see that anticipation in your face?”

Dee did her best to try and look hopeful, but as the camera whirred and she looked toward that door, it actually did open and a guy in a black tuxedo came through it. He was about six feet tall, average build, with slicked back dark hair and a little moustache. He wore wire-rimmed glasses on his face. He was quickly walking towards Dee, and she was trying to figure out why he looked familiar when it hit her: this was Maritza dressed up as a guy! They’d hinted that “Mauricio” would be her escort for the awards show, but she hadn’t thought that was real. Dee only had time to take a couple steps towards her love when she was looking straight into those big, beautiful, brown eyes she knew so well.

She threw her arms around his neck, (Dee had been trained to address people as the gender they appeared to be) pressed her lips to his, and closed her eyes. She willingly allowed her lips to part and accepted his probing tongue into her mouth. She felt his hands caress her shoulders, her back, her waist, and they probably would have continued down if not for all her crinoline. She breathed in his strong, musty cologne and realized how different it felt to be kissed by someone with a moustache. She could feel the camera flashing, but didn’t care.

Solange made them stop before any major damage was done to Dee’s makeup. They reluctantly broke the kiss and pulled back, but they kept their hands entwined. Dee leaned over and whispered in Mauricio’s ear, “I missed you.”

An unfamiliar coarse voice whispered back, “I missed you too, My Darling. I love you, Davida.”

It was weird to be addressed by a different name. She’d grown used to thinking of herself as “Dee,” but that really was just an initial. This was just another version of calling her by a feminization of her male name. She smiled at her boyfriend. “I love you too, Mauricio.”

***

There was a bunch more posing, but the time just seemed to fly. It could have been hours, or it could have been minutes. Dee didn’t care; she was with her sweetheart. In fact, it came as quite a surprise when Claude told them their car was ready and it was time to go.

Dee thanked everyone, giving a Vanessa a big hug in appreciation of everything she did for her, and said she’d try to have the whole Cabal over for a dinner party some time in the near future, but she didn’t know her schedule yet; she might be at the mercy of a vindictive publicist.

Mauricio offered her his arm and led her to the door where a limousine was waiting, and then helped her into the car. It was her first time managing such a poofy skirt, but she did admirably, only showing a little more leg than she’d intended. Claude gave the driver David’s tickets, and made sure he knew where the pavilion was. Everything seemed to be in order, so they were on their way.

Mauricio broke the silence first. “At last we’re finally alone. I can hardly believe how beautiful you look. Finally everyone’s eyes can see what my heart has always known.”

Dee was overwhelmed, and really wanted to kiss him but was afraid for her makeup. She reached over and held his hand instead, accidentally brushing by an unexpectedly realistic bulge on his lap. “You look rather handsome yourself. I think we make a good couple.”

Mauricio licked his lips. “There is no way I am anywhere near as sexy as a man as you are as a woman. I almost wish we could just blow this thing off and go home, and I’d show you exactly what you make me want to do to you.”

The idea of skipping out on the awards was very tempting. Dee sighed. “I can’t wait to find out. But this whole project was about going to the awards. If we didn’t show up, Claude would be really pissed off, and might even sue me for all the expenses. I’ll tell you what, though: this has been such a long day for me, let’s just go home as soon as the awards are over, instead of trying to hit any After Parties.”

“That’s an excellent idea.” He kissed her hand and his moustache tickled. “I’ve arranged a surprise for you when we get back.”

“Really? What is it?” Dee peppered him with questions all the way there, but he wouldn’t even give her a hint.

They arrived at the pavilion, and their driver showed their tickets to a guard, who checked a clipboard, then directed him to get into a line of limousines. David wasn’t famous enough to cut ahead. The guard told someone over a walkie-talkie who was in which car. Now it was just a matter of waiting for their turn. They planned their exit while they were waiting. The driver would stop the car and then get out and open the door. Then Mauricio would get out, carrying Dee’s bag for her. He’d hold out his hand, and she’d take it to pull herself up out of the car. The driver passed Mauricio the tickets, and he put them in his inside jacket pocket in case anyone checked them.

They got to the red carpet and there was an explosion of flashbulbs as they got out. A few shouts of “Who are you wearing?” and more of “Who are you?” greeted them.

Dee smiled, gave a little wave to the crowd and called out, “I’m D. Fine, and my gown is a Claude Marsh! “

The name didn’t register with any of the reporters, so they tried wondering if Mauricio was the celebrity and she was just his date, but he just growled “Delgado” at them when they pressed him for his identity. It was kind of fun.

Dee did her best slow glide down the red carpet, and stopped when she saw a production assistant with the logo for The Jane Waters Show on his t-shirt. He was counting people as they went by. He called out that by his reckoning, they should be “David Fine and Guest,” but he looked confused.

Dee told him, “We are, and I think you’ll want to get Jane and a camera over here to talk to us. You might even want two cameras, to get Jane’s reaction.”

The P.A. compared the photo he had on his clipboard to Mauricio and it didn’t seem to match, so he wasn’t sure. But the way the pretty woman looked into his eyes made him want to believe her; he could tell she was hiding something. He clicked his microphone to call Jane over.

Jane made her way over and shot an irritated look at her peon. “I thought you said you had that Fine guy here for me to poke fun at again. Who are these people?”

Dee smiled sweetly. “Hello, Jane, it’s nice to see you again. I took your advice and came in a gown this year.” Jane still wasn’t getting it, so Dee cleared her throat and let her voice slip down into the lower register. “I’m David Fine, that guy you wanted to poke fun at, up for best adapted screenplay again. You probably don’t recognize me because I’ve had a little work done, but then I don’t need to talk to you about why someone would want a few surgical alterations.” Dee took a breath and went back to her feminine voice. “And you must admit that a gown like this one can only really be properly accessorized with silicone.” She gestured toward her enhancements.

They’d won. Jane was speechless. She muttered something incoherent, and her camera guy tried not to laugh. Dee unzipped her bag and showed the P.A. her official state ID with her current face and legal name of “David Fine,” just in case they thought it was some kind of trick.

The murmurs started going through the crowd as they continued down the carpet to the entrance. “That chick’s a dude!” and “No way!” were popular, as well as “The hottie in the red dress is a trannie!” Dee just held her head high and pretended not to hear them, smiling and occasionally waving.

Once inside, they gave their names to an usher, and he checked their tickets and showed them to their seats. Dee’s phone was vibrating, and there was still time before the show, so she answered it. “Hello?”

It was Nadine. “Oh my god! That really was you! Your voice sounds so real.” Dee went and explained the whole story to her, how Claude had figured out how to put Jane Waters in her place for embarrassing them last year, and while maybe they’d taken things a little too far, Maritza was into it, and Dee was finding that she kind of enjoyed being female. Nadine wanted to know if she’d had a full sex change, and whether she’d changed her name or anything, so she could let the publisher know. Dee told her that even though it wasn’t exactly Nadine’s business, she hadn’t made any irreversible changes as yet, and hadn’t decided if she was going to. Legally she was still a male named David, but she’d taken to going by her initial. The show was about to start and she’d have to turn her phone off, so she said she’d call her later. Nadine wished her luck and hung up.

Dee paid a lot more attention to all the ceremony this time around. She was particularly aware of what everyone else was wearing. The gowns all looked so lovely! She wished she had the figure for some of them, and felt a little too exposed compared to others. It also seemed like some of those born female didn’t put the time and effort needed into looking their best. She also found herself appreciating the shapes of some of the actors under their suits, which was a bit of a surprise. The only man she needed was the one sitting next to her.

When her category was announced, she applauded all of her competition, and imagined the cameraman who was supposed to zoom in on “David Fine” must have been having a hard time finding her. The favorite was a woman who had turned a true story from a series of articles about Somali refugees into a heartwrenching dramatic film that had already won for best supporting actress that evening. Dee was getting ready to applaud her when the presenter read, “And the Oscar goes to David Fine for Condensation.”

Dee was in shock. She only had a moment to realize she needed to get down there, and did a flawless glide down the aisle and up the stairs to the podium. The actress who’d read her name almost didn’t want to hand over the statuette, but she took it anyway.

“First, you’re probably wondering about my new look. You’ll have to ask Jane Waters about that; I don’t have time. I had a few words prepared, but as you can see this outfit doesn’t have any pockets so I left it behind.” She paused while the confused audience laughed. “I’d like to thank most of all the readers for making my books popular enough that someone wanted to make them into films, and the studio for giving me a shot at reinterpreting my own work for the screen. I didn’t always agree with the director’s choices, but I think in the end the story you see turned out better than I would have made it. So thanks, James, for telling my story better than I could. And thanks to a wonderful cast who made my characters into living, breathing, people. Lately for some reason, I’ve been concerned with nurturing my babies, and you treated them well.” She inhaled a little on that last line, and the crowd got her joke. “I’d also like to thank my good friend Claude who helped make this glittery city feel like home, even if he did talk me into some really crazy things.” She gestured at her gown, even though most people wouldn’t understand what she meant. “And finally, I can’t thank you for helping me win this because it was pretty much in the can by the time we started dating, but I love you, Baby!” She blew a kiss toward Mauricio, and held Oscar up in the air. “Woo!”

She’d finished her speech before the music started, and was ushered backstage. An official was standing there questioning her identity, and they had to send an usher to her seat to fetch her bag so she could show her ID. Mauricio came back with them, and gave her a quick peck on the cheek and congratulated her. She showed that she actually was “David Fine” and they confirmed the spelling and address to send the engraved nameplate when it arrived.

Dee and Oscar and Mauricio then went to a room where members of the press were waiting. She posed for a couple of pictures with her new little friend, and then stepped up to a microphone. Most of the questions were about her appearance. She started with a statement, “I have nothing but the utmost respect for the Academy and I hope I don’t look like a mockery at all. My goal was to wear my gown with the grace and glamour that the occasion merits, and you’ll have to decide whether I was successful.” The press gave a couple of wolf whistles followed by a spontaneous round of applause.

Dee thanked them and told them the whole story about how she’d been insulted the previous year and Claude talked her into becoming as feminine as possible, and her girlfriend was more than positive about it. Besides Claude Marsh fashions, she credited her new look to the work of Dr. Ben Coleman, and makeup artist Solange, and hair by Tom & Jeffy’s, and most of all the work of her Feminine Deportment Coach Kay Thomas.

The reporters asked exactly how much of a woman she’d become, and Dee evaded by saying that she had become very in touch with her feminine side, and enjoyed dressing up and looking pretty, and still enjoyed cooking and keeping a nice home but that hadn’t changed from before. She threw them a bone and said her training had included taking a dance class with a male partner, and that hadn’t been entirely unpleasant. She added that if anyone included that in her story, she’d appreciate it if they could also say that she’d like to apologize to her dance partner for kissing him without telling him the truth about her identity.

That got the press folks excited. They wanted to know whether she’d gone gay, and Dee explained that while there were positive aspects to being with a man, on the whole she preferred women. She was committed to her girlfriend and wasn’t looking to change that any time soon. One reporter asked if her girlfriend was still just as committed, and Dee said he could ask her that himself, and she beckoned Mauricio over to the podium.

Maritza talked in her regular voice, and peered out over her fake glasses. “Hi, I’m Maritza Delgado, and I could not be happier about my Sweetie’s new appearance. She made some serious changes but all you see here on me is fake. The only things I changed were I got my hair and fingernails cut.” She waved her hands with their short, colorless nails in front of her, and turned her head so they could see how short her hair was in back. She switched back to her Mauricio voice. “And any of you men out there have to agree that my lady is seriously fine. Look how sexy she is! As soon as this thing is over tonight, I plan on taking her home and ravishing her until morning.” He caught her by surprise in a deep kiss, and several cameras caught it.

They were rushed out of there, as the other winners were getting backed up waiting for their turns with the press. Dee laughed that she hadn’t even gotten to talk about the movie. They went to a table where a runner could be sent to fetch their driver to go put Oscar in the car.

While they were waiting, Dee checked her voicemail. She had a lot of messages from her friends congratulating her on her win and wanting more information about David’s apparent sex change. Nadine called not only to congratulate her on the win but also to say that there was already a bidding war between the morning talk shows to see who could get Dee on for Monday’s show.

Dee only had a little time so she called Claude and asked how she’d done. He said her performance was better than he could have hoped, and the clip of Jane Waters looking flabbergasted was already one of the top hits at YouTube. Claude speculated that her network had made her run the tape since it was a big scoop, even though it made her look stupid. Dee laughed and thanked him again before she had to go.

All that backstage work meant they’d missed several of the awards. But they didn’t miss the other award where Condensation had been nominated, Best Direction. Dee rooted for her movie, and applauded as loudly as possible when its director won the award. James Pierce took the podium and as part of his speech he thanked “Our writer, David Fine, a brilliant man and as we see tonight apparently also a very lovely woman.” Dee blew him a kiss for that, and wondered if she was on camera.

All in all, it was a wonderful event, although it ran overtime as it always does. There was a veritable stampede as all the Hollywood elite rushed out to find their drivers. There was a bit of a chill in the night air, and Mauricio wrapped his arm around Dee’s shoulders as they walked down the street to where their limo was parked. She squeezed his hand in hers and snuggled up tightly against him. It had been a long day.

On the drive home, Dee’s phone rang. It was Nadine. First, her publisher wanted a new photo of Dee for the back of her new novel’s book jacket as soon as possible. They were holding off on printing until they could add a note that the author was an Oscar winner, so they weren’t going to charge for causing a delay. But unless she supplied a new photo to their office by express mail for Tuesday morning, they’d have to go with one of the ones from Claude’s press release, and Nadine didn’t think they really suited who Dee was as an author.

The other piece of good news / bad news was that Dee would be interviewed on the Today show on Monday morning, which would be great publicity for the new book, but it meant getting to the local TV station by 4:00 am, dressed up nice and looking awake and pretty and ready to go. Dee sighed, but accepted her fate. It was a good thing they hadn’t tried to hit any parties.

When they got home, Mauricio tried to tip the driver, but he said he’d already been taken care of. He gave Dee the box with Oscar in it, and she carried it in her arms like a baby. She thanked the driver for taking good care of them and asked him for his business card, in case they needed his services again. He was very professional and she only caught him looking at her chest twice.

Just inside their foyer, there was an envelope tied to a ribbon hanging down from the lighting fixture. On the back it said, “D - Open me first.” Dee opened it, and saw that it was a card with a note from Kay:

“D:
Don’t let it get around, but I have to say this was my favorite assignment ever. You were such a natural, my job was a breeze. Your compassion, loyalty, and insight made you the pinnacle of womanhood on the inside before I ever met you, and your beauty and grace (I’m not talking about what Dr. Ben gave you; you were lovely even before his knife touched you) on the outside make you the envy of every girl. I count myself lucky to have met you.

You’ve had a busy day, and they didn’t feed you much. So if you take a moment to think about it, you’re probably starving. Jackie came by and prepared something for you. It’s in the kitchen, and she’s left you instructions on what to do with it.

Your computer has been returned, and you can have your office back. My stuff is all moved out, and your lady’s things are all back in her closet. Your male wardrobe is still boxed up, but those boxes are now in the back of your garage. I think we both know there’s little chance of you needing those things again. If there’s a garment that has some sentimental value to you, maybe you’ll want to rescue it, but I’d recommend just taking all those boxes and donating them to a homeless center.

I wish you luck and hope you’re coming home with an award, but even if you don’t, you’re still a winner in my book. When they gave you back your old phone, you may not have noticed but my number is now in there. Call me some time.
K”

Dee was glad her mascara was waterproof. She was weeping. Mauricio pulled her close and asked if it was bad news, but Dee shook her head and said she was just crying because she was happy. He rolled his eyes and said “Women!” They both laughed over that. He didn’t let her go until he’d given her a thoroughly toe-curling kiss, for good measure.

She thought about it, and she was kind of hungry. She headed into the kitchen and found a note from Jackie. She’d prepared a Moroccan meal for them and it was warming in the oven. She said that in Morocco they generally eat on low tables on the floor, so cushions had been set up in the living room for them to sit upon. Their meal was a stew in a special clay dish called a tagine (which Dee could keep after the meal as a gift from Jackie) served with freshly baked flatbread. The way to eat it was to tear off a piece of bread and use it to scoop from the common dish. It could get a little messy, so she’d set out finger bowls (another gift) when she set the table for them. There was a dessert in the fridge when they were ready for it.

The dish in the oven was very pretty. Dee would have to make a special spot in her china cabinet to show it off. She used a potholder and removed the high conical lid and was greeted by an exotically mouth-watering aroma. The ingredients were so soft that she couldn’t begin to identify them, but it smelled amazing! She made Mauricio carry the bowl to the living room while she took the bread out of the oven and placed it in the basket Jackie had laid out.

The coffee table had been laid with a pretty tablecloth that wasn’t one of Dee’s. It looked like it probably came from Morocco, too. A large trivet had been set out for the tagine, and a pitcher of water with ice cubes and lemon slices was set out on a large cork coaster to protect Dee’s table from its condensation. The place settings had a pretty brass finger bowl, a cloth napkin that coordinated with the tablecloth, a water glass and a champagne flute for each of them.

After noticing the glasses, Dee looked around and saw the champagne bottle chilling in a silver ice bucket on the fireplace hearth. It had a sticky note attached that read, “Congratulations! We did it! — Claude.” Her attention was also drawn to a new picture on one side of the mantelpiece in a beautiful silver frame. It was one of the photos Roxanne had taken, where Dee and Mauricio were turned three-quarters towards each other and sharing a look of profound love. It almost looked like a wedding portrait. There was another sticky note on the opposite side of the mantle that read “This space reserved for Oscar.” Dee giggled and placed her new little friend in his assigned space while Mauricio popped the cork.

They toasted Oscar and drank with their arms entwined. Mauricio settled himself casually down onto the floor pillows, almost reclining on them. It was trickier for her, but Dee figured out how to kneel down on the cushion and arrange her skirts around her without taking up too much space.

The meal was delicious! It took them a while to get the technique down of tearing off a piece of bread and scooping it through the stew without making a mess. The finger bowls got a lot of use in the beginning. Mauricio’s shorter nails made it easier for him to do it neatly, so after a while he hit upon the idea of feeding Dee. He’d bring the piece of bread to her mouth and hold it there while she nibbled it to bits. His reward was to have her carefully and lovingly clean his fingers with her mouth. It was extremely sensual, and they had to stop to share a few kisses along the way. For a couple of those kisses, Mauricio’s hand decided to wander and explore the texture of the top of Dee’s gown.

They cleaned the bowl. Mauricio ended up eating roughly twice as much of it as Dee. Her corset kept her from eating too much, but she was satisfied. He let her stay seated while he went to check the refrigerator to see what their dessert was. Dee wasn’t sure she’d have room for anything, and hoped Jackie hadn’t baked anything too heavy. She was happy to see him carrying back a tray with a rather light dessert of fresh strawberries with thick whipped cream for dipping.

She decided to repay his gesture with the stew, and dipped a strawberry for him and fed it to him. He took it into his mouth in one bite, and kissed her fingers. Then he fed her one, and she did another one for him. The next time he dipped one for her, she wanted to show off, so licked the cream off of it before softly sucking the berry into her mouth. Then when it was her time to feed him, she dipped the berry and held it in her teeth so he’d have to kiss her to take it, which he was more than willing to do.

When it was Mauricio’s turn, he loaded up a strawberry, but then danced it around, pulling it out of reach every time her mouth got close. But he moved it a little too fast, and a dollop of cream dropped straight down into her cleavage. She scolded him and said that it was a good thing he hadn’t ruined her gown. She reached for her napkin, but he held her shoulders and carefully licked up every drop of spilled cream. He looked up at her with a mischievous grin.

He pulled her to her feet and stepped them away from the table. “There’s only one way to be absolutely sure nothing gets on your dress.” He reached around behind her and unhooked then unzipped her dress, then pulled it off her shoulders and down to the floor. “There. Now we should be safe.” She could feel his eyes roaming all over her body. He brought her back to the cushions to sit down. “Although really, to be absolutely sure, we’d probably better take that off, too.” Before Dee realized what he was talking about, he’d reached one hand behind her and had unhooked her bra, then gently used two hands in the front to pull it off of her. His eyes grew wide as they took in all her glory. “I mean, look how easily an accident could happen.” He took another strawberry, loaded it with cream, and then deliberately dropped it on her left nipple. “Let me get that for you.”

He brought his mouth to her breast and softly licked at the cream until every bit was gone, and then kept going. Dee couldn’t help but wriggle and moan from the sheer pleasure. He abandoned his pretense and switched to let his fingers play with her left nipple and moved his mouth to the right one. Eventually he had each hand working a breast, and kept switching his mouth from one to the other, occasionally adding a fingerful of cream to mix things up.

After a while, Dee’s body trembled, and she felt what could only be an orgasm, but with her genitals still trapped it didn’t come with the usual signs. She grabbed his face in her hands and brought it to his for a kiss. “That was incredible. I would love to do the same for you, if we’ve still got any cream.” She ran her hand down the buttons of his shirt.

However, Mauricio chose to stay in character. Instead of taking his shirt off like she expected, he loosened his belt, unzipped his fly and reached down into his pants. Dee couldn’t exactly tell what he was doing, but a moment later he had a very realistic erect penis poking out of the front of his boxers. He ran two fingers through the cream and dropped a large amount on the end of his member. He leaned back, looked at Dee and smiled, wondering if she’d accept his challenge.

Dee probably should have been expecting something like that, but it really threw her for a loop. She stared at it for a moment and then grinned back at him. She slowly approached him on all fours and said that was her favorite kind of dessert. She hadn’t crawled naked since becoming a woman, and the feel of her breasts as the swung beneath her was a new sensation for her. They felt so much bigger in that position.

Since it was dripping, she decided to start from the bottom. She slurped her way all along the base, making sure she left it clean. It tasted rubbery, and a little sweaty under the flavor of the cream, but she was doing this for the love of her life, so she didn’t let it bother her. She did another orbit around the bottom of the shaft, but it was dripping down faster than she was sucking it up. The only way she was going to conquer this was head on. She took as deep a breath as her corset would let her, flexed her jaw in the hope that it wouldn’t cramp up on her, moved her tongue out of the way, and then lowered her mouth onto her boyfriend.

Even though he was made of silicone, she still refrained from using her teeth; it just seemed wrong. She bobbed her head up until only the tip was still in her mouth and then brought it down deeper than before. Each time she pushed further, willing her throat to open up, forcing herself to swallow instead of gagging. The thing must have somehow been connected to Mauricio’s true genitals, because he let out an involuntary groan any time she caused it to move. That gave Dee all the incentive she needed to keep going, faster and faster, deeper and deeper until her lower lip was touching his rubber testicles at every stroke. When she was almost ready to give up, he brought his hands to her head and held it in place for a few moments, until he eased her off.

He pulled her close and kissed her and noticed how clean she’d gotten him. “You sucked me completely dry, Baby. I love a girl who swallows for her man.” He gave her a little more cream on his fingertip, and she slurped it lustily. “You’re unbelievable.”

Dee soothed her throat with a few sips of cool water. She gave her man a sexy look Roxanne would have been proud of. “If you think that was impressive, clean this stuff up and then meet me upstairs. I believe I heard something about being ‘ravished until morning’?” She grabbed her bag, got up and did a slow sashay out of the room and up the stairs.

As Mauricio watched the seductive swaying of her lacy posterior, he was glad he wasn’t a biological male, as he’d have no blood left in his brain after that. He set to work taking care of the remains of their dinner as quickly as he could, without doing a sloppy job that would disappoint the lady of the house.

Dee had been mostly bluffing. She was essentially a virgin in certain ways, so her sexy bravado at promising something impressive had been entirely an act. But she was definitely ready to experience from a female point of view, and she knew she had the right partner this time. She hurried to get ready without wasting time; she did not want a repeat of her fiasco with Joe. She was not going to keep Mauricio waiting any longer than necessary.

She popped into her bathroom and checked her look in the mirror. Her hair had gotten a little messed up and she was probably missing a few bobby pins. She reached back and pulled out the rest of the pins, and then finger-combed the little braids out. She rapidly shook her head back and forth until she was satisfied that she had that tousled, messy look that was sexier than anything. Her makeup was still in decent shape. Her lips only needed a few little corrections and they’d be back in top form.

She spotted another little envelope from Kay on the counter. There was a little blue pill inside and a note that said it would help Dee shake off the effects of her herbal tea. She took the pill with a sip of water, and wondered how much more eager she would become once her libido was no longer being suppressed.

Dee had been on a mostly liquid diet for the better part of the day, so she figured she was fairly clean down there, but just to be sure she grabbed one of those bottles Kay had bought her and flushed herself out. Then she applied a very liberal amount of lubricant, as deeply as her finger could reach. She slid her panties back into place, washed her hands, and gave herself a few fresh spots of perfume before leaving the room.

Her timing was excellent. Mauricio was hanging up her dress for her when she came out. He asked, “So what do you think of your surprise?”

Dee hadn’t taken any time on her way through the bedroom, so she didn’t realize what he was talking about. But the gears in her head slowly turned until she noticed that he was standing in Dee’s closet, and it was just as deep as Maritza’s. She also looked to the side and noticed that the counter now sported dual vanities. There were now two lit up mirrors and chairs, and they each had their own space for their cosmetics and jewelry and things. She just stared, dumfounded.

“I was talking to Claude, and we decided that ‘His and Hers’ closets really didn’t seem appropriate anymore. You needed more space, if only for all your shoes. So he gave me the number of the guy you hired to make my closet, and I hired him to give you one just like it. You’ve lost a little more space in your office, but I hope you think it’s worth it. They still had all the measurements so it was easy for them to make all the pieces ahead of time, and get it all installed while you were out this morning. It was funny; we were parked around the block this morning waiting until you left, and I was so worried you’d spot us. I let them in, and then Kay took over when it was time for me to go get dressed.”

Dee went over and saw how all her things were nicely put away, and there was plenty of room for more! She made a happy noise in the back of her throat. “That’s so sweet of you to do that for me. I love my new closet! You have definitely earned what I was about to let you do anyway.” She kneeled on the bed and arched her back. “Come here, Stallion!” Mauricio walked up behind her and nibbled a row of kisses across the top of her shoulder and up the side of her throat. His arm wrapped around her waist and she leaned back into his embrace. Something poked her in the back, and she rocked her hips to send him the message of where it belonged. He brought his hands up and began to knead her breasts while his mouth breathed warmly at her ear. She moaned and arched her back. She definitely didn’t need any more foreplay. “Please, Baby! I want you so much!” She tried to reach her hand around to guide him, but the angle was wrong so he was just out of reach.

Mauricio didn’t want to torture her any further. He brought her body forward so she was lying facedown on the bed, and then he brought his hands to her hips. He appreciated that she’d moved her garters to inside her panties, so all he had to do was hook his fingers into the waistband and pull down, straightening her legs as he went. He gently caressed her baby-smooth bottom, and leaned forward to give it a kiss. His tongue slipped in for a little visit, and he could taste that she was prepared for him.

He grabbed her hips again and pulled them to the edge of the bed, so her legs were hanging off, and he guided her feet to the floor. Her flat, featureless crotch was strange but sexy. He traced the edge of her opening with his finger, and she hungrily tried to thrust her hips toward him. He indulged her and let penetrate her. She was wet, but very tight. He didn’t want to hurt her. He added a second finger and worked at her a little harder. She pushed against him and made little noises.

He had thrust three fingers into and out of her a good number of times, and he could tell she was really enjoying it. But then he pulled out and her hips wiggled around to look for him. He grabbed her in his left hand to hold her in position, and used his right hand to guide his penis to her hole.

Part of Dee wished that she had experimented more with her vibrators, so she would be used to having something inside her. But another part was glad she’d waited. It felt right that her first time was with Mauricio. She tried to relax and fought her body’s urging to clench. Eventually the pain of being stretched open faded and she was able to push her hips back against his. As he went faster and deeper, something happened and he found the magic spot that drove her absolutely wild. She pushed back with a renewed enthusiasm, and changed from leaning on her elbows to supporting herself with her hands. Her breasts swayed back and forth to the rhythm of their lovemaking.

Judging by the way his grunts were echoing her moans, they seemed to be in synch. She could feel it building to a crescendo. When the peak hit, she let out a perfectly girlish scream, and she heard him make his most guttural groan yet. Dee slumped forward onto the bed and felt him slip out of her. She wondered how long it would take her poor little balloon knot to close up again.

But mostly she wondered how long it would take to catch her breath. She was hyperventilating in rapid shallow pants, and tried to catch Mauricio’s attention. She whispered between breaths, “C-c-c-cut it off me!”

Mauricio was coming down off his own climax, and noticed Dee frantically waving. She was gesturing at her waist, and her breathing did not sound good. He realized what she wanted and how stupid they’d been! Having sex in a corset is a very bad idea. Maritza had done that once and nearly ended up in an emergency room. He went back over his briefing where they explained what would be needed to get her undressed and started frantically looking for the special scissors to cut her free, all the while whispering “Please don’t die,” his voice growing more high-pitched and feminine over time.

It turned out the stupid scissors were in plain sight, right on the nightstand. Mauricio snipped the thongs as fast as he could, being careful not to damage his sweetheart’s skin. He peeled the corset off of her and pulled her upright, holding her tightly by the shoulders so she could breathe as deeply as she wanted, glad she was okay.

Dee was really embarrassed. She took a few slow, deep breaths until her body calmed down and could breathe on its own. She felt tears on Mauricio’s face behind her, and turned just enough so she could kiss him. “I love you, Baby! Everything’s okay.” Their tongues danced a while together. “But while you’re setting me free from constrictive garments, do you see the solvent to get this thing off anywhere?” She pointed at her industrial-strength gaff. “I think maybe some parts are starting to get overheated.”

Mauricio knew where that solvent was. Its spray can had been right next to the scissors. He made Dee lie back in the bed and spread her legs. She didn’t like the look of her stockings without the garters attached to anything, so she unbuckled her shoes and removed her hose before complying with his wishes. The corset had left vertical stripes all around her torso, and it made her feel very self-conscious, but there wasn’t anything she could do about that.

Starting from the top, he sprayed the solvent at the edge of her moleskin, then gently peeled it back a little, then sprayed again, and kept it up until everything had been freed. He then fetched a damp washcloth from the bathroom and gave all those bits a sponge bath. “It looks like Little David is waking up,” he noted when his ministrations began getting a reaction. He bent down and planted a kiss right on the tip.

Dee was feeling confused. As blood started returning to parts that had been tightly compressed all day, she started feeling the pain of that compression. At the same time, there was the pleasant sensation of being gently fondled. However, these were definitely male genitals being caressed by an apparent male, and that seemed very gay. But Dee or David or whoever he or she was (referring to Little David by name caused another crisis of identity) could not deny that he was being aroused.

Mauricio gave David’s penis a few more kisses, and was rewarded for his efforts by watching it become erect. He ran his tongue along the shaft, and playfully teased the head with another kiss, and then opened up his mouth to softly suckle at it.

As David watched his erect penis disappearing into a male mouth, Dee fought to maintain her femininity. She brought her hands up to play with her nipples, and tried to make sure that all the moans of pleasure that were being induced were in the female range.

Mauricio worked his fingers over David’s testicles as he lovingly continued sucking. He could sense that they were about to release. He reached down and inserted his middle finger as deep as it could go, and David erupted almost immediately. Mauricio made sure that not a single drop leaked out of his mouth; he wanted to catch it all.

He crawled up on the bed and kissed his boyfriend/girlfriend, forcing her prettily painted lips apart to receive the snowball that they passed back and forth for a while until Mauricio made her swallow it.

David did not want to be gay, but he could not deny that he was getting very turned on by the whole thing. He was even starting to get hard again. That little blue pill was made of some powerful stuff!

Mauricio had been almost absent-mindedly petting David’s penis as he felt it growing beneath his touch once more. He had an idea and made sure that washcloth was handy, and set to work stroking more earnestly. He rolled David onto his side and spooned him while he masturbated him. He waited until David had relaxed a little, and with a slight change of position he reinserted his own penis into David’s well-oiled little bottom. He proceeded to synchronize his thrusts with his finger work, pulling and pushing at the same time.

While Mauricio was fucking his ass while giving him the “old reacharound,” David knew they were having sex in a way that only two men can. It was dirty and wrong and he did not want to admit how perfectly wonderful it was. He felt a profound sense of shame when he came all over Mauricio’s hand while he was still inside him. Mauricio quickly cleaned it up with his washcloth, but David still seemed permanently stained.

Mauricio rolled out of bed and stood up. “I don’t think enough of us are naked. I need a shower. Want to help?” He walked toward the bathroom.

Dee got up and pushed him back onto the bed to make undressing him easier. She took off his shoes (noticing that he’d been wearing lifts) and threw them aside, and then tugged off his socks. Seeing a pair of delicate hairless feet with pretty pink toenails, she remarked, “What kind of man wears toenail polish? I’m beginning to suspect you might have been keeping a secret from me, Mauricio!”

She pulled down his pants, leaving his penis sticking out the fly in his boxer shorts. “And you have smooth and shapely legs, too. You can be honest with me, Honey — are you one of those fruity guys that likes to dress up in women’s clothes?”

Even though she was doing nothing to conceal her own incongruity, Dee’s act as a confused girlfriend seemed so sincere that Mauricio was having trouble not collapsing into a giggle fit.

Dee made him sit up and began unbuttoning his shirt, revealing the “wifebeater” style undershirt beneath it. She pulled off his shirt and looked at him disapprovingly. “Your arms are smooth and slender, too. No manly muscles at all! And it looks like you even shave your armpits, too. Oh no! My boyfriend is a big sissy! What will I tell Mother?”

She pulled the tank over his head. His torso was wrapped in tight fabric. “Oh no, Baby! You’re all bandaged up! Did you crack a rib? I’m so sorry I was mad at you. But let me check to see if your dressing needs to be changed.”

Very gently and carefully, she unwound the bandage. Two nicely-shaped breasts were exposed to the air. “Oh my god! My boyfriend has tits! Are those real? Did you take hormones or something? Are you one of those freaky ‘she-males’ you see on TV?”

Dee pulled down his boxer shorts. “And you’ve got a better looking ass than me, too. Now that is just not fair, Mister! But why are there straps running around your…thingy?” She waved a finger around in the general area.

Maritza wasn’t sure her partner would be able to find the release for her harness, so she unbuckled it herself. “You silly girl,” she said as she stood up. “I’m not your boyfriend.” She reached up and ripped off her fake moustache. It was held on with only spirit gum and not the super stuff Dee’s appliance used, but it still stung like ripping off a Band-Aid. “I’m your lesbian lover.” She pulled her girlfriend close and kissed her deeply, feeling their naked breasts collide for the first time. It was a feeling she could definitely get used to.

Dee was done playing. “Welcome home, Maritza. I love you.”

Maritza kissed her again. “I love you too, Davida. But I wasn’t kidding about that shower. Let’s go.” She took her lover’s hand and led her into the bathroom. Dee had to wash off her makeup with cold cream first, and also take off her necklace and swap out her earrings for her sleeping hoops. Maritza started her shower alone, but soon she was joined by an eager helper ready to scrub her back for her, as well as every other inch of her body.”

Maritza’s sore breasts enjoyed the hot water. She had to tell Dee to be very gentle as she kissed her nipples. Dee apologized when Maritza winced, and decided that if she was going to be a lesbian, there were other things she could do with her mouth. She slid down Maritza’s body and knelt on the shower floor, giving a kiss to her pretty little belly button on the way down. She kissed around and slid down until she found herself practically lying down, with Maritza straddling her face.

She tilted her head to the side and kissed Maritza’s lips squarely with her own. She slipped her a little tongue and that earned a soft noise. If her nails weren’t so long, she’d try getting a finger in there, but the best she could offer was a knuckle. She found Maritza’s little happy button with her thumb and tapped it gingerly. That got a stronger reaction, so she moved her tongue up to there. Tracing the alphabet was too obvious, so instead she opted to spell out “I love you Maritza, forever and always.” Somewhere in the middle of “forever,” she got her results.

They finished their shower and dried off. Maritza’s short hair didn’t look so masculine when it wasn’t slicked back; it was a cute pixie cut. But Dee still missed how she looked in long hair. Maritza explained that it gave her more versatility as a model, since it was easier for hair and makeup people to put a wig or extensions on short hair than it was for them to hide long hair. It was also easier to maintain. She just had to towel dry and it was good to go, but Dee had to brush hers out and braid it to keep it from tangling in her sleep.

Maritza brought out two large gift boxes. One was marked with an M and one with a D. She said that Claude had given them new coordinating sleepwear in a variety of styles. She kept the M box and gave Dee the D box and told her to pick out what she wanted to wear, and she’d do the same in the other room.

When she finished her hair, she opened the box. All the pieces were made of the same soft silk material, in a deep green color. The first option was a pair of standard pajamas. The top had the buttons on the left and the bottoms had no fly, so they were women’s, but the style wasn’t very feminine at all. It had a plain triangular lapel, and straight cuffs, and not a ruffle or flounce anywhere. The second option was very feminine: a floor-length sweeping gown with spaghetti straps and lace trim all around the cups and at the edge of the hem. The third choice was somewhere in between. It was a nice girlish tank top with a little bit of lace around the neckline, with a pair of shorts to wear beneath them. They were cut just a little tighter than boxer shorts, and of course had no fly.

Next the box gave her a choice of two robes. One was long and seemed to be made to pair with the gown. It had a ribbon on the inside as well as a sash on the outside to tie it closed, so it would tightly show off the wearer’s breasts. It had similar lace trim to the gown along its collar, cuffs and hem. The other robe was a short kimono like she’d had to wear every time she went to Claude’s. It probably would work with the short set, but Dee figured he’d thrown it in as a reminder.

Finally, she had her choice of two styles of slippers. There were a pair of mules covered in that same green fabric with two-inch heels, or a pair of flat, thong style sandals covered in that fabric but also stuffed with very soft padding.

Dee considered her options. The most practical move would be to pick the short set. They’d allow for more ease of movement as she slept. The boring pajamas would be the ones to pick if she wanted to make the statement that Dee’s month of femininity was over and David was coming back, even if he was in a slightly different shape. But inside she just really wanted to pick the pretty nightgown. For all its impracticality, it best represented the way Dee saw herself, as an elegant woman. By the same token, she knew she had to go with the long flowing robe and the heels. It all fit her perfectly. There was a definite upside to having a fashion designer for a best friend.

She stepped out into the bedroom and broke out laughing. Maritza had made the same choice, only her gown, robe, and slippers were a strong gold color. She stepped over to Dee and kissed her. “We definitely belong together.”

Dee kind of didn’t like the way things were just hanging loose between her legs under her gown; she’d have to ask Claude to make her a matching pair of panties. Maybe he could just cut those shorts down smaller. She sat on the edge of her side of the bed, and was pleased to see someone sitting on the other side for the first time in too long. She kicked off her slippers, threw her robe over a chair, and swung her legs over into bed, gathering her skirts as she did so.

Maritza had been watching her, and applauded her technique. Her own technique was a little less fluid, but she did a roll at the end that carried her over to Dee’s side of the bed. She snaked an arm around Dee’s shoulder and snuggled her close. Since it was practically already there, she slid her hand down a little and softly stroked her breast. “I hope you don’t mind, but you’re going to have a tough time keeping my hands off of you. You’re just so incredibly sexy to me now, and I love that you did this.” Her circling thumb found the raised bump that was Dee’s nipple, and she gave it a gentle squeeze. “I hope you don’t have any regrets.”

Dee thought about things. “No, I don’t think so. But this really didn’t go the way I expected. At first, it was like putting on an act, pretending to be something I wasn’t. But then it turned into more like becoming someone new. And it the end, it feels like bringing out a side of me that was always there, but I never knew it.”

It didn’t seem fair to let one have all the fun, so Maritza reached over to Dee’s other breast with her other hand. She definitely understood why guys liked playing with boobs so much. Once you touched one, it was hard to stop, even if they were fake. “So are you thinking about becoming Davida completely, all over?”

“Well, I’ve thought about it, sure. It would be kind of hard not to, after coming this far. But I don’t think that’s a step I want to take, at least not in the foreseeable future.” She reached over and brought Maritza’s face to hers for a kiss. “This new me isn’t too weird for you is it?”

“What’s weird is that it doesn’t seem weird at all. I think you’ve become the person you were always meant to be, and she is a person who I love very much.” Maritza moved a hand down to where Dee was tenting out her nightgown. “I’m glad you don’t want to be 100% girl. While we can have fun with toys and things like we did earlier, sometimes it’s just nice to use our real parts.” She brought the front hem of Dee’s nightgown up to her waist, hiked up her own as well, and rolled over on top of her. She got up on her knees, straddling her pretty boyfriend, and held herself open while she lowered herself down onto him. “And our real parts fit together so well!”

Maritza’s hands squeezing her breasts were keeping Dee’s shoulders against the mattress, so there weren’t a lot of movements available to her. She ran her hands up under Maritza’s skirt along her gorgeous legs, and let her fingers dance along her hips and buttocks as she bounced on top of her. She felt herself nearing completion a little too soon for Maritza, (even with a magic blue pill, there was still a finite amount of fluid in her body) so she brought a hand around to give her some direct clitoral stimulation to get her there faster. They reached climax nearly simultaneously.

Maritza lowered herself so she was lying on top of her lover, and clamped down to keep David from falling out of her even as he was shrinking. She didn’t want the closeness to end. But then she started leaking and comfort trumped intimacy. She reached over and grabbed that washcloth from the nightstand and did her best to clean up all the mess before it reached either of their nice new nightgowns. They straightened out their skirts a little, but slept with their legs overlapping nonetheless.

***

The rudest alarm in the universe sounded at 2:00 am. Dee only had two hours before she had to be at the TV studio. Dee was very nervous about this interview. After this point, there was way she could just fade into the background. As a slightly famous semi-transsexual, her face would appear in enough places that it would probably even be difficult for her to try to pass as a legitimate woman.

Maritza decided to lend a hand by picking out what she should wear. In actuality, she was having fun playing dress-up with her new doll, but it still made things go a little faster. Dee wanted to wear something that would show that she’d actually gotten her boobs done and wasn’t just wearing falsies, but didn’t want something too slutty for morning television.

Maritza put her in a nice charcoal grey skirt suit, with a form-fitting jacket that scooped low enough to show a fair amount of cleavage, but she layered a nice cherry-red lace camisole under it, that had a built in shelf bra loose enough that there would probably be some noticeable jiggle.

Dee insisted on some figure enhancements, and wore her waist cincher and padded panty. For hose they went simple and chose a sheer suntan, with slightly daring four-inch black alligator peeptoe slingbacks on her feet.

Dee did her own makeup, but she let Maritza choose the colors. Her lipstick matched her top, her foundation was matte, and her eye shadow was neutral. It was morning, so she skipped eyeliner, but wore a modest amount of mahogany mascara.

Maritza picked a pair of diamond solitaire earrings for her, a brooch in the shape of an AIDS ribbon for her lapel, and a plain gold chain for around her neck. But she felt that the outfit needed something more, like maybe a tennis bracelet. She had an idea, and pulled out a small box from her own jewelry cabinet.

She sat on the edge of the counter beside where Dee was finishing her makeup. “Honey, can I tell you something?” Dee nodded, so she continued. “There’s this story I heard when I was young; I don’t know if they tell it up here, too. It’s about this little girl who gets lost in the jungle and breaks into a house that belongs to these bears. In this story, bears live in houses — I don’t know why, but that’s how you know it’s a story. There’s a father bear and a mother bear and a little bear, so there’s three of everything in this house. But when the girl tries any of the things, there’s always one that’s too much one way, and one that’s too much another way, and the third one is exactly perfect for her. Like she’ll try to eat the father bear’s food and it’s like still boiling, so it’s much too hot to eat, and then she’ll try to eat the mother bear’s food and it’s not hot at all it’s like frozen or something, and then she’ll try the little bear’s food and it’s like the exact right temperature. Or like she’ll try to sleep in the father bear’s bed and it’s just like plain wood, much too hard to sleep on, and then she’ll try the mother bear’s bed and it’s like a big pile of feathers, much too soft to sleep in, you just fall in and sneeze all night, but then the little bear’s bed is made out of straw and blankets like a real bed and that’s the one the girl can sleep in. Do you follow?”

Dee tried hard not to laugh at Maritza trying to tell the story of Goldilocks, but she looked so serious it would be wrong. She just mumbled, “Yes, I think I might have heard a story like this when I was a kid.”

Maritza smiled. “Well, good! Because I’m trying to tell you that you make me feel like the girl in that story. As you know I have been with other people before you. I have tried being with manly men, and they are just too rough and smelly. And I have tried being with womanly women, (is that how you say that?) and they are just too soft and gooey.” She slid off the counter and kneeled down beside Dee, and then opened the jewelry box. “But you, Davida, my womanly man or manly woman, whichever you’d rather call yourself, you are exactly perfect for me, and I can’t imagine anyone I’d rather be with. Would you please agree to be my husbandly wife?”

Dee had only been half listening, but the full meaning of those words finally hit her. She saw that Maritza was holding out a box containing David’s grandmother’s ring! Damn you Claude! But really, there was only one thing to say. “Yes, my love, my life, my one and only, I would be honored to spend the rest of my life with you.” Maritza slipped the ring onto Dee’s finger, and it fit perfectly. Well after all, she had asked Claude to get it sized; she just hadn’t realized at the time whose finger it would be ending up on. Thank God for waterproof mascara. She knew that the commitment she’d just made meant that there was no going back to being just David ever again, but it didn’t bother her in the least. She looked forward to building a future with Maritza, and wondered if like Jackie she’d get the opportunity to share in nursing their children, when the time came. But before any of that there was the matter of another ring to take care of. “Um, just curious, but you wouldn’t by chance have seen another box like that somewhere?”

“It should be in your jewelry cabinet. This one was in mine.” Maritza played along and pretended not to understand.

Dee kicked herself for not taking the time to explore her new beauty station. She found the little blue box right in the top drawer where Maritza’s had been. She got down on her own knee; if her pantyhose got a run, she’d deal with it. Some things were more important. David had been working on this speech for a while, and Dee tried to remember as much as she could. “Maritza, even though we come from different worlds, I think where we meet has the potential to be something truly wonderful. I would hate for my life to return to the humdrum grind it was before you came into it. I love the way we complement one another, and it would be a dream come true if that could continue for as long as we breathe. Now on this part I’m a little rusty, but I think I’ve got the words right. Maritza Delgado, te amo.  ¿Por favor, Te quieres casar conmigo?”

Maritza was touched deeply, even though her own proposal had already been accepted. She loudly declared, “Si!” Dee slipped the ring, the one that had been David’s mother’s, onto her finger. “Now I’ll probably have to get a chain to wear this as a pendant most of the time, but it’s not because I’m rejecting you. If I wore it all the time, I’d get a mark on my finger, and that can be a problem with my job. But I can wear it sometimes, when we’re around people I want to know that I am not available, and I can wear it for you so you know I am yours, now and until the stars fade.” They shared a long kiss, not caring if it made them late.