When the old guy warns you, you really need to pay attention!
SRU: Satisfaction Guaranteed
by Enigma
She saved my life. I met Bonnie part way through my senior year of high school, just at the point that I was ready to end it all. When we met, something just clicked, and shy talks gave way to solid friendship which evolved into love, much to the amazement of both of us.
Bonnie Sampson is really cute. Not classically beautiful, but still with a body to send most hormonal high school boys into daydreams of sex and lust. Her build was just a little too round to be called slender, and her dirty blonde hair was not glamorous, but still added to her attractiveness. Her blue eyes were lovely, but not the sparkling blue that draws the male attention. Her B cup breasts were a little too small to catch all the guys’ glances, and her waist was not tiny, though she still had a mild hourglass shape. Yet the sum of the not-so-perfect parts created a whole that stirred the blood of most men and boys she encountered. Most men other than me.
My name is Randy Thompson. I am tall, with broad shoulders tapering to slim hips. My abs aren’t washboard, but they are taut, and there is no tummy bulge. My package was the envy of many of my classmates, as were my rugged good looks, curly dark hair, and dazzling hazel eyes. Just the kind of hunk that Bonnie was not interested in.
Bonnie had decided a year or so ago that she was a lesbian, that men just didn’t float her boat. Yet, my soft-spoken ways and empathy drew her like honey, once she got past the hunky exterior. She could not believe that she had actually fallen in love with me. I couldn’t either, but was thankful for that fact since that was what saved my life.
Those thoroughly masculine features I “enjoyed” were what had driven me to the brink of extinction. From the time I was four or five, I’d known I should have been born a girl. At that age, I often played dress-up with my older sister. My pre-adolescent body looked good in her hand-me-downs, and I loved the feel and freedom of feminine attire. My parents were not hung up on gender stereotypes, and treated my dressing games with amused tolerance all through grade school and into junior high. Their loving acceptance allowed me to really heed their warnings that others might not understand, so no one outside our family knew.
Then, in my freshman year of high school, puberty struck with demonic efficiency, transforming my slender androgynous body into the physique of a Greek god, and my passable feminine persona into a parody of womanhood. My hairy arms and legs, broad, deep chest, bulging muscles, and chiseled facial features made me look like a bad joke when I dressed. It was the end of my world, and I settled into a funk that seemed would have no end. I was near the brink, ready to escape my recently miserable life when I got to really know Bonnie.
We had been in the same school for years, but with nearly 2000 students, it was impossible to know everyone. I had seen her around, and could intellectually understand how her looks enticed the guys, but with my ambiguous sexuality and deep depression, she was not attractive to me in the least.
We met at a school dance that one of my few friends badgered me into attending. Apparently, she was there for the same reason. We managed to stick it out for the first hour or so before each escaping what was not an enjoyable experience. Bonnie was sick of the repeated fumbling passes of the male population, as I quickly tired of the constant feminine attention. Bonnie would have loved to be in my position (though not my body), and I was just jealous of all those female forms that fit my soul so much better than my own shape. We each escaped to the same bench hidden away behind a screening hedge, and neither of us was willing to yield our hideaway to the other, so we sullenly shared.
Surly silence eventually gave way to tentative exchanges, to wry amusement that we each were in the same boat. She had known more about me than I knew of her, so she knew I was not the typical macho stud so common in those with similar physiques. So she was willing to give me a chance to at least talk. She listened to me, really listened, and though I didn’t tell her the reason for my misery, her natural good humor and empathy drew me out, and she was able to ease some of my pain just by the show of understanding.
Over the next few months our friendship slowly grew, until we started using each other as a shield against the kind of unwanted attention we had been escaping at the dance. From the world’s perspective, we became a couple, though we did not see it that way. We just thought we were good friends who could help each other divert unwanted advances.
High school ended, and we both decided to attend the state school just a hundred miles from our home town. After the mandatory semester in the dorms, we were both sick of that life, and decided to share an apartment. Bonnie felt safe with me as I never came on to her, just as she never came on to me. But both our families decided we were really in a serious relationship. I think Bonnie was shocked when one late night in our second year at State, after hours of studying for mid-terms, she seduced me, and we awoke the next morning cuddling together in the same bed.
Over the remaining time in college, we grew closer, and our sex life flourished, though our circle of friends remained small. Our mutual trust and respect grew, and early in our senior year, I finally shared my shameful secret with this special person. I was terrified, fully expecting her to spurn me, and move out to get away from the pervert, but amazingly, she accepted me. Having, for the first time, someone who knew the secret pain I carried eased that pain. Over time, she encouraged me to dress again in girls clothing we accumulated gradually. We both knew I could never be a passable woman, that no amount of corseting or cosmetics or even surgery could make me look like anything but a man. But just the chance to dress without ridicule or censure was a balm to my spirit. We learned that seeing the man-in-a-dress reflected back from any mirror depressed me, so Bonnie would help me cover the mirrors before Randi came out to play.
After graduation, we both sought and found jobs in our home town. Finally recognizing that what we shared had grown into true love, I proposed to Bonnie, and we were married just before Christmas that first year after college. Our jobs paid well enough that we had a nice apartment, and drove decent cars. Life was good for both of us, and the desperation that had nearly driven me to suicide was a mostly forgotten ache that rarely impinged on my consciousness.
It was as I was shopping for a Christmas present for my bride of three years that I stumbled across a strange little shop that I had never noticed in the mall before. It appeared to be ancient, with rustic paned windows facing the concourse, and heavy wooden doors with glass panels serving as the entrance. A bewildering and enticing assortment of merchandise was glimpsed through the old-fashioned windows. An antique bell tinkled as I entered the shop, and after browsing in solitude for a few minutes, I was startled by the greeting “Hello, Randi. I’ve been expecting you.”
The voice was surprisingly strong for the rather elderly man I saw behind a counter when I whirled around. He was dressed in a shabby blue robe, and had wispy gray hair that looked quite unkempt. It was amazing that my name on his lips carried such a pronounced feminine flavor. Bonnie could call me Randy or Randi, and no one but me could ever tell the difference. Not so with this strange person.
And how did he know my name in the first place. He just smirked at me and tapped the small plaque on the counter. I approached so I could read it, and chuckled at the inscription: “Because I’m a wizard, of course!”
“So, Randi, found anything you like?”
“I’m not even sure what I am looking for,” I responded with a weak smile. “Any suggestions?”
“Maybe Bonnie would like one of these necklaces.”
At my startled look, his eyes flicked to the plaque again, and I smiled a little more warmly. He helped me find something I thought my loving wife would like. It appeared to be very old, but was really beautiful and in extremely good condition. I was surprised at how reasonable the price was, given its apparent age and craftsmanship..
“That’s because that is a mundane piece,” he replied to my unspoken question. At my puzzled look, he added, “No magic.” He paused a moment before continuing; “Now over here, I have a bit of magic that I think you might enjoy. I think Bonnie would enjoy it as well!” he added with a knowing smile.
What this bit of magic turned out to be was a small vial with a glass stopper, mostly filled with a viscous pinkish fluid. There was a label on both front and back. The front said “Girl Potion”, and the back label was covered with tiny printing followed by even tinier printing.
“This little item can give you your fondest wish for one week. But be sure that you follow the directions exactly, as there can be some rather, shall we say, undesirable side effects.”
The price he quoted was considerably higher than the “non-magical” necklace, and I chuckled at his thoroughly consistent if eccentric behavior.
“Come now, Randi. Don’t you believe me?” Then he sighed, “Seems like no one believes in magic anymore.” He looked at me closely. “Randi, I know what you have been living with, and I want to help... Tell you what. You buy the necklace and take the potion with you. After you try it, if you think it was worth what I asked, come back and pay for it then. See? Satisfaction guaranteed!” He beamed at me, “I know I can trust you. That’s so refreshing in this day and age!”
So it came to be that I left the shop with a nicely wrapped gift for Bonnie, and an intriguing little novelty for myself.
Bonnie loved her necklace, and I loved the bra and panty set she gave me, once I steeled myself to ignore the mega-size required to fit my bulk. As we cuddled after the gift exchange, watching the lights on our tiny Christmas tree twinkle, I told Bonnie about the funny little shop where I’d found her gift. This led to describing the other oddity I’d picked up that day. I hadn’t really figured what to do about it, so it was stashed safely in the back of one of my drawers. Bonnie made me get it out so she could see it.
Squinting at the larger, but still tiny text on the back label, she read, “Imagine the girl you want to be, close your eyes, and down the entire potion in one draught. Effects last 7 full days.”
Bonnie looked thoughtful for a few minutes. “Do you really think this would work?”
I chuckled at her romantic nature. “Nope. Much as I could wish otherwise, there just isn’t that kind of magic in the world, lover.”
“Still, what would you wish for if it were real?”
We talked about it for a while as if it really could happen, and it was bittersweet describing what I would want my body to look like if such a thing could be. My concept of my ideal body had evolved through my romance with Bonnie. The fun wore off after a bit, and we just snuggled in silence for a while, each lost in our own thoughts.
Finally, Bonnie broke my reverie. “You know, we have a week off work for the holidays. Neither of us has to be back till after New Years. What would it hurt to try?” She looked at me with a pleading expression, and my heart melted. Taking the vial from her hand, I twisted out the stopper only to be greeted by a fruity, sweet aroma that actually made my mouth water. I started to put the little bottle to my lips when she grabbed my arm to stop me.
“Remember, close your eyes and concentrate on what you want to be.” I smiled at her tenderly, shook my head slightly, then closed my eyes and concentrated. Slowly I formed a picture in my mind, visualizing what we had talked about moments before. It was hard at first, but as I put the image together, it seemed to take on a life of its own, gaining detail at an increasing pace. When finished, what I saw in my mind’s eye was a pretty girl that could have been Bonnie’s younger sister. The same general looks, but slightly more slender, brighter blue, wider, innocent eyes, fuller lips, a slightly larger bust, and a somewhat narrower waist. The image had all the features that made Bonnie so attractive, each shaded slightly toward the modern concept of beauty. The result was still not amazingly beautiful, but managed to capture Bonnie’s cuteness in a younger, healthier, prettier form.
I raised the container to my lips and drained the contents. The flavor was as good as the scent had promised, and the thick liquid slid easily down my throat. I smiled at Bonnie, and was just about to say, “See, nothing happened” when a wave of dizziness hit me and I realized that Bonnie cuddling against my chest like that made my boobs hurt. I shifted uncomfortably before it hit me! Bonnie was staring at me dumbstruck. Neither one of us could actually believe that it really worked!
That afternoon and evening, Bonnie sated her lesbian desires in more ways than I knew to be possible. And while it was very enjoyable for me, it was mostly knowing that I was pleasing my wife that made it so. I came to realize that I was not completely lesbian, but somewhere between purely heterosexual and bi.
The magic of the potion had transformed all my clothing along with my body. As we explored, we found that my new wardrobe was styled a little younger and a little more daring than Bonnie’s. The day after Christmas, we showered and dressed for an outing. I was further amazed when I was able to apply makeup with no problem. The heels I had been denied for so many years since my feet grew to a manly size were too easy to walk in to be explained by that years ago practice. Another accommodation of the spell, I decided.
Shopping was fun, even though we didn’t buy much. The several days that followed were a whirlwind of lovemaking and other fantastic experiences. We shopped, went to movies, ate out, danced, visited museums, basically any of the things I had longed to do as a girl. Knowing this was my week, my only chance to experience womanhood, Bonnie was up for almost anything I suggested. But while I was pretty sure I was a mostly straight female, I never intimated my longing to experiment with a man. I took my wedding vows seriously, and would not willingly violate them for anything.
About the sixth day, we were both worn out, and I was a little depressed. I had under a day left of this wonderful fantasy. Bonnie found me sitting quietly on the couch and sat silently next to me. Finally she asked, “What is it, Randi? Why the blues?”
I looked at her and tried to smile. “Just lamenting that my time as a girl is almost up.”
“Yeah, I know,” she consoled me. “But look on the bright side. As wonderful as our lovemaking has been, I am really looking forward to getting my wonderful hubby back.” She snorted a mirthless laugh and added, “I guess I’m not much of a lesbian after all. It just took the right man to make me see that.”
I hugged her lovingly, reveling in the feel of her pressing against my breasts and the heat of her body.
“There’s something else though, isn’t there?”
I didn’t respond to her question.
“Come on, sweety, what else is bothering you?”
“Nothing.” But my reply wasn’t very convincing.
She sat up and turned me so I faced her squarely. “Please, I really want to know.”
I cast my eyes downward so I could avoid her gaze. “Um, it’s just that… well…”
“Come on, you can tell me anything, love.”
I blushed furiously. “I’m, um, just, um, kind of disappointed that, uh, that I wont get a chance to experience sex with a guy.”
I heard her sharp intake of breath and looked up to see the shock in her face. I hoped that admission hadn’t hurt her opinion of me. Maybe she thought I was gay. I mean, what guy wants to be with another guy? But in spite of all the enjoyment we got from sex before this dream come true, I really was a girl stuck in a guy’s body, so I didn’t think of it as a gay desire. Especially with the way my body looked for this week.
She settled back down against the back of the couch, and it hurt a bit that she didn’t cuddle against me like she was before. After a painfully long pause, she smiled a little and said, “Sure, why not? I’m sure we can work something out.”
“No!”
“Huh? But you said…”
“No. I wish I could, but I can’t. I won’t do that to you. I won’t break our wedding vows like that.”
“But…”
“Look, Bonnie. This week has been wonderful. And it isn’t over yet. But as great as it is, my life is with you. You are the most important thing in my world. You are what makes my life worth living. I can’t do that, can’t take the chance. Can’t set the precedent of ignoring a solemn vow for a ‘special case’. What will the next ‘special case’ be? Thank-you, sweetheart, but I won’t do it much as I’d like to experience that.”
She smiled brightly at me and scooted up against me for another session of snuggling. That night after some wonderful lovemaking, Bonnie drifted off the sleep, but for me slumber would not come. On a hunch, I pulled out the “Girl Potion” vial and reread the back label. The readable part said just what Bonnie had read the other day, but I remembered the old guy’s warning. Nothing about those instructions seemed to warrant that admonition. Sliding carefully away from my wife, I moved to the bathroom, closed the door, and turned on the lights. Using a magnifying glass, I studied the label again. The lines that were too tiny to read with the naked eye became readable under the bright light and magnification. I read the ‘fine print’:
“Cautions: Injuries while transformed will remain after reverting to natural form. Avoid sexual intercourse as culmination of that act will result in an unpredictable outcome, including, but not limited to, making the transformation permanent.”
I felt a cold sweat break out on my forehead. Much as I’d like to have a body like this for life, this wasn’t me. It was not the body my wife married. It wasn’t the body that had the career. I’m just glad that I didn’t give in to the urge.
I slid back into bed next to Bonnie, careful not to wake her, but it was still quite some time before I drifted into slumber. It was late the next morning when I woke to the pleasurable sensations of Bonnie’s tongue on my most sensitive erogenous zone. As I pulled myself to consciousness, I noticed the bedside clock read almost noon. Damn! I’d transformed in the early afternoon, so I could expect to transform back in an hour or two. So I guess I’d better enjoy this while I can.
It didn’t take long before I experienced one of the exquisite orgasms that this body is capable of. It seemed to last forever, as Bonnie gently tweaked and nibbled me to prolong it. When I had floated back down to earth, she crawled up and straddled my head so I could return the favor. She pushed my arms up over my head and leaned forward to pin them to the bed with her hands while I sought her treasure, intent on returning her gift. I was just getting into it, when I heard a muffled word from Bonnie and I felt the bed move, and my legs were spread apart. Wait! If Bonnie is up here, who is down there?
I felt something probing my nether lips where Bonnie’s tongue had so recently been. Whatever it was, and whoever wielded it, they were being very gentle. Our sex play this week had included experimenting with Bonnie’s toys, and this felt just about like her big dildo. I was so wet, it slid in with almost no resistance, and God! did that feel wonderful. When it reached its deepest penetration, it was further in than the biggest toy Bonnie owned, and I felt something brush against my bottom. Wait! That means…
Whatever it was pulled slowly almost all the way out, then more quickly in. That sent a surge of tingling through me, causing a sharp intake of air through my nose, since my mouth was stifled by Bonnie’s nether lips. The movement below picked up speed, and soon there was a rhythmic slapping against my bottom on each stroke.
Oh, that felt wonderful! So much better than the plastic toys Bonnie had. I almost lost myself to the sensation, but then realized what that would mean. That was a man down there! If I just let this happen, I would be stuck forever this way.
I started struggling, trying to scream out a warning to Bonnie, but her body straddling my mouth stifled all sound. I heard her talking to me, “Shh, shh, it’s ok. This is my gift. It’s ok.”
I just struggled harder, but Bonnie rode me like a champ. Finally, in desperation, I bit her tender flesh. Hard. She squealed and jumped aside, looking down at me with a hurt expression on her face.
I was panting from the almost overwhelming sensations down below and the exertion of my struggles. Looking down, I saw Jim, our next door neighbor pounding away at me in a view between my violently jiggling breasts. He took Bonnie’s absence above my upper body as permission to give my boobs an erotic massage, and again I almost lost it. We had lived next to Jim for three years now, and had become pretty good friends. From my female perspective, I now noticed what a hunk he is, though Bonnie had never shown any attraction to him. He’s a nice guy, though. I struggled to focus, and looked over at Bonnie, who was looking back at me.
“Please…” I gasped, grunting out one word with each pounding stroke, “must… stop…”
“Shh, it’s ok, sweetheart. I love you and want you to have this.” I was shaking my head violently.
“Must… unh… not… aah… come…”, pant, pant, “in… me!”
“It’s ok, honey, you’ll be back to normal tomorrow. It’s ok.” Again I was frantically shaking my head even as I felt a wave of orgasmic pleasure break over me and threaten to drown all resistance.
“That… God!... would… oh… that… feels… so… good!” Again, I almost succumbed. Mustering everything I had, even as Jim pounded me faster, I tried again, more urgently. “would… make… permanent!”
“What?” Bonnie shrieked.
I groaned in pleasure as another orgasm swept through my body, then panted a few times to collect my breath. “If… he… ungh… comes,” pant, “I… stay… this… oh, yes!... way… forever!”
Bonnie finally got it and turned toward Jim. I was about out of resistance, and almost hoped she wouldn’t be able to do anything. This just felt too good.
Bonnie started pushing on Jim, yelling at him, trying to get him to stop.
He pushed her gently away as he continued to pound into me, grunting out, “Not yet… almost there.”
By now, tears were streaming down Bonnie’s face, and she was begging for Jim to stop, pounding on his shoulder with her little fists. Just then, Jim drove himself into me even deeper, freezing there for a long moment, before I felt him pulsing within me, and the hot spurts against my cervix toppled me over the edge into a tremendous climax that seemed to last forever, but not nearly long enough.
When I came down from the intense high, I found Bonnie kneeling beside me, tears streaming from her eyes, stroking my cheek tenderly. “Was it wonderful, honey?”
Against my will, a big grin spread across my face and I nodded mutely, even as tears poured down my cheeks over the devastating turn our lives had just taken, and I desperately prayed for a different outcome.
She whispered, “I don’t know why we’re crying. These must be happy tears. I can’t believe I just watched my baby sister’s first time!”
Spring Break Incognito
By Enigma
Jeff gets more than he bargained for when he is invited to join his fiancee and six of her best friends for spring break.
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I rolled off Sarah to lie beside her, naked, panting, trying to catch my breath. I pulled her to me, and she snuggled up to my cooling body. She was first to regain the power of speech.
"Mm... that was fantastic, Jeff. I love you!"
I pulled her tight to me. "Yeah, it was, wasn't it?" I managed to wheeze. "I love you too, honey." We cuddled and kissed, stroking each other, reveling in the glow we had generated. After a time, I yawned and glanced over at the lighted digits of the alarm clock that showed it was a little after one a.m. "We both have early classes tomorrow, and I, for one, could use a little shuteye." I kissed Sarah passionately and we settled down to sleep.
The phone woke me early the next morning, and I groggily noticed it was 6:30. My sleep-clouded mind eventually heard Sarah as she chattered on the phone. Morning people! Her words finally started making sense, and I realized she was talking to one of her friends about the upcoming spring break. Damn! I was really upset about these plans they were making.
"Yeah, that sounds good, Julie! Marci and Kelly are confirmed? Great! I know Sherry and Lynn are in. Oh, you heard from Sue? Super! How about Jenn? Still nothing, huh? Ok, you keep trying, and I will too. Good! Luv ya, Jules. Talk again soon."
Sarah hung up the phone, and turned over to face me. "Morning, sleepyhead!" This was followed by a kiss that drove more of the cobwebs from my mind. "Things are really coming together! We have all but Jennifer lined up to go. The reservations are all set. This is going to be a great spring break!"
"Humph" I grumped. I was not crazy about my fiancée going off without me to Lake Havasu for spring break with her old friends from high school. They were eight really gorgeous ladies, and I had heard the stories about the wild parties and stuff that went on there. "Sweetheart, are you sure about this?"
Sarah put a cute little pout on her beautiful face. "Jeff! Not this again! Come on, we've talked about this till I'm sick of it! You know I love you, honey, and we are going to be married this June, right after graduation. This is my last chance to get together with the gang before that. Don't you trust me?" She was stroking my body, getting me hot again, which was pretty amazing after the way we went at it last night.
"It's not that I don't trust you, Sarah. It's all those horny guys I don’t trust! I'd feel a lot better if I was coming."
"Jeff, sweetheart, you know this is an all girl thing. Just me and my friends. With us scattered at schools all over the country, we hardly ever get to see one another any more. Besides, the place is booked solid. We've had reservations for months, and there is no way you could get any place to stay now."
"It's just …"
"Shhh. I know sweetheart. I love you too. And nothing is going to happen to change that! I know you'd like to go, and I would love to have you there too." She got a speculative look on her face, and seemed lost in thought as she gazed at me for long moments. "Unless…" she almost whispered, then suddenly giggled.
"What?"
"Nothing! I just had a silly thought. Never mind."
"No, Sarah. I want to know!"
"Jeff, it's really silly."
"Sarah!"
"Ok. It just flashed through my mind there is a way you could go."
"Super! How?"
She giggled again. "You sure you want to know?" I nodded emphatically. "Ok, I tried to warn you! You know there are eight of us, right?" I nodded. "And we've got rooms for eight." I nodded again. "Well, we haven't been able to get hold of Jennifer. Julie and I haven't heard from her for a couple of months. We can't confirm she is coming. That might leave an empty spot for another girl!"
I was puzzled. "How does that help me?"
"Well, I just had this silly thought that you could be that other girl!"
I was speechless! Me? Go as a girl? This was crazy! But there was a niggling little voice in the far recesses of my mind that was saying, 'You could, you know!'
"See, I told you it was silly. I just thought of your part in that play you were in last year. Remember, when there weren't enough girls in the class to fill all the parts, and you got to do that small role as the lead character's girlfriend? You looked and sounded really good, and that was what brought this on."
I just glared at her, and the subject was dropped.
Maybe a little background would be good here. Sarah and I entered the university the same year, both majoring in Theater Arts. We became aware of each other sometime during our freshman year, but were not much more than mild acquaintances. Sometime in our second year, I really began to notice how pretty she was, and what a great personality she had. Finally, just into our junior year I worked up the courage to ask her out. Later I learned that she had wondered what took me so long.
We got on great, having lots of fun in school and with recreational activities, and later exploring the joys of sex. Eventually we decided we would live together our senior year, and found a small apartment not far from campus. Just this last Christmas, I finally proposed marriage to her, and she gleefully accepted. I have been on cloud nine ever since.
Until recently, that is, as the plans for spring break began to take shape. I guess it was my insecurities getting the best of me. But I was really afraid of losing Sarah to some hunk out there in Havasu. I'd heard the stories: the wild parties, the drinking, topless girls, endless sex. I have always been the quiet type, never getting into the party scene, whereas Sarah and her friends had always been pretty wild. I guess I just never could figure out how I got lucky enough to land Sarah. And I was afraid if she got back to that kind of atmosphere, she would realize that I just didn't measure up.
As I said, everyone in Sarah's gang is a knockout. They had been friends all through high school, and then had spread out across the country, with only a couple attending the same college. This was going to be the first time since the summer after high school that they got back together to relive their wild days of the past.
Sarah herself is 5' 6", with wavy red hair, a beautiful face with clear alabaster skin, deep green eyes, a cute little upturned nose and a smattering of freckles that made her look deceptively innocent. With C cup breasts (34C-24-32) she is the smallest of the eight in that department. In my humble opinion, she was also the prettiest of them all. Not that any of them were dogs. But I was just sure that this assembly of busty babes was going to attract guys in droves.
Then there is me. I am fairly short for a guy at 5' 9", with a slender build. My skin is naturally lightly brown, my hair jet black and straight, and my eyes are an unusual gray with just a hint of an oriental shape, thanks to my mixed ancestry. Not that I was ugly by any means, but I had never been able to build up any muscle bulk, despite all my trying. The best I could say about it was that I was fit and sleek. I am quick, deceptively strong, and have been described as graceful, but I have never, ever been called a hunk. My build is what got me drafted into that female role in last year's play.
Another week passed. There were calls from several of Sarah's friends as plans were finalized. It was mid-January now, and the trip was inexorably approaching in early April. Sarah would talk to me about the plans and her concerns about the still unaccounted for Jenn, but was getting really touchy about any comments I made, even when I went out of my way to try to be helpful.
Finally one Sunday evening when she got off the phone I asked, "Still no word from Jenn?"
Sarah just blew up. "Damn it, Jeff, I've had it with your jealousy over this trip. I have tried and tried to reassure you that it is you I love, and you have absolutely nothing to worry about!"
"Wait, Sarah, no! I am trying to accept it. I really am. I know you are worried about Jenn. All I want to do is be there for you right now."
"Argh! I can't take any more of this. Jeff, either put up or shut up. You're either in or you're out, and I won't put up with any more negative vibes from you!"
"Hunh? What do you mean?"
"Either you're the eighth girl, or you just stay out of this!" With that she stomped into the bedroom and I heard the lock click.
I tried the knob, then knocked lightly. "Sarah! Let me in, sweetheart. I'm sorry!" There was only silence in answer.
I spent a cold, lonely night on the couch, the first since we had moved in together, and it was not something I was eager to repeat.
I woke stiff and chilled the next morning after a restless night when Sarah came out of the bedroom already dressed for class. I stumbled into the kitchenette as she brewed coffee, and tried to kiss her on the cheek.
She avoided my attempt and just looked at me. "In or out?"
I looked at her pleadingly. "Come on! Give me a little break here! At least tell me what it really means to be in or to be out. Please?"
"In, you dress as a girl for the week, participate in the preparations, and help make the week fun for us all. Out, you stay here, you keep your petty jealousy to yourself and you quit trying to spoil this for me." Her voice had steel in it unlike anything I was used to from her.
I sighed, "Sarah!" She just turned and walked out the door, skipping breakfast.
I had a rough day, and couldn't concentrate at all in class. I was mortally afraid I had damaged our relationship beyond repair, but I just wasn't exactly sure how. I couldn't figure out what to do. I didn't think there was any way I could make everyone believe I was a girl for a week, especially as close as that group is going to be during the trip. But I was almost more afraid that rejecting the idea would have the effect of driving Sarah away even further, since she reacted badly to almost everything I said these days.
Sarah wasn't home yet when I dragged in after my last class. Normally she would have been there and fixing something for us to eat by now. I put my books away and started putting together a dinner for the both of us. Sarah came in when everything was almost ready, and went silently to the bedroom. She came out a few minutes later, and we sat down to eat the simple meal in an uncomfortable silence neither of us seemed willing to break. After we'd put our dishes in the dishwasher, she faced me.
"Ok, Jeff, what is it going to be?"
I had been dreading that question, and gave a big sigh. "Sarah, I love you. I just don't know what you want from me."
"What I want is for you to be a little supportive. This is a big thing for me, and I want you not to ruin it before it even starts!"
"How can I be supportive when you bite my head off for everything I say? In case you hadn't noticed, I have stopped questioning the trip. I am trying to be supportive! But it seems like everything I say is wrong."
A tear trickled from each of Sarah's eyes. "Maybe I'd better move in with Debby till spring break. Then we won't hurt each other until this is over."
"No!" I looked at her pleadingly. "Please." I heaved a big sigh and said quietly "I'll do it. I'll go with you." My best hope now was that Jennifer would show up and bump me from the trip, but I was desperate not to lose Sarah.
She just looked at me solemnly for a while. "You sure?" I nodded. "And you'll really try to make this fun for all of us?" I nodded again. She looked at me as if to judge the truth of what I said. Finally she came to me and hugged me, whispering in my ear "Thank-you!"
I hugged her for all I was worth. "You'll have to help me, though. Being a girl in a play isn't the same as living as a girl for a week. You have to help me make sure I can do this!"
She gave me a tentative kiss on the lips. "I will."
We didn't make love that night, but at least I was back in the bed with Sarah, and we cuddled together till she drifted off to sleep. My slumber did not come easily as I held the woman I loved and pondered what I had gotten myself into.
Sarah was almost back to her old self the next morning, and I enjoyed the affection we shared while getting ready for class.
"Jeff, lets plan to spend time after class this afternoon seeing what help we can get from the theater storeroom, Ok?"
I felt my insides twist, but put a cheerful face on, afraid of pushing her away. "Sure. What do you have in mind?"
"Oh, I just thought we might be able to borrow some props to help us out."
I was getting a little worried here. "Um, don't you think the school might object?"
"All we can do is ask!" as she pecked me on the cheek.
This was Tuesday, and in the afternoon we were both in Professor Hanford's class, which was currently concentrating on costuming. Jane Hanford is an attractive thirty-something lady who is a whiz at training recalcitrant young wannabes as potential stars and/or for supporting positions in theater and movie production. She has a wicked sense of humor, and has a knack for getting her students to not only understand what is needed, but for getting them to do it.
I managed to survive the morning classes, and was disappointed when Sarah did not show up at the union for our usual lunch together. I waited outside the classroom for her to show, but slipped inside just before the start time when she hadn't. Moments later, she walked in with Professor Hanford. They stopped near the front of the room and spoke quietly for a moment before Sarah came to sit with me with a mysterious smile on her face. I noticed the professor glance my way with a somewhat quizzical expression, but then we got into the projects we were working on, and I was too busy to worry about it.
As the room started to clear after class, Sarah found me and pulled me forward to where Professor Hanford was waiting. She greeted us and asked how our current projects were going. We chatted about that until the room had emptied.
"So, Jeff, I understand that you and Sarah want to take on a special project for the next few months. How do you feel about this?"
I looked nervously at Sarah, who was smiling encouragingly at me. "Um, I guess I am really nervous about this, professor. I want to do it, but I am really worried about pulling it off without getting into hot water."
She stood back and gazed speculatively at me for a few minutes. "I don't think appearance is going to be a problem. It's more likely your behavior that could give you away, and then of course, any, shall we say, more intimate encounters where your costume would be difficult to maintain?"
I blushed furiously and mumbled, "I don't think I have to worry about intimate encounters."
"Nonsense! What will the other girls be wearing when they go swimming?" She looked at Sarah here.
"I know I will be in a bikini, and it would surprise me if any of the others wore anything else."
Geez! That hadn't even occurred to me. The furthest I'd gotten was thinking of jeans, shorts, and maybe skirts.
Professor Hanford pushed on relentlessly. "And where will the girls be getting changed into and out of swimwear?"
Sarah was looking downcast. "Normally we would all change together in a dressing room, or a cabana, maybe the cabin of a houseboat. Maybe this isn't such a good idea." She looked sorrowfully at me, and I felt a twinge in my gut. I wasn't sure if it was relief or regret.
I was shocked when the professor responded, "Don't be silly! But it does depend on how much you both are committed to this charade?" She made that last into a question.
Sarah looked a bit more hopeful. "What do you mean?"
Professor Hanford considered before she spoke. "There are many ways that Jeff could be made to appear a woman. He has the kind of build that will make it easier. The techniques range from makeup to appliances to cosmetic procedures, even hormones and reassignment surgery. It all depends on the depth of the masquerade. And of course, some of those are more permanent than others. You also have to consider the expense."
Sarah and I were both speechless, but she recovered her voice first. "Jeff is my fiancée! This was never meant to be permanent!"
"No, of course not, I was only pointing out the range of options. But consider. Even with costuming changes that are not long term, there is a certain amount of conditioning that must be done. Jeff would have to learn to, for instance, walk like a woman, and practice it to the point that it was natural and unconscious. Afterward, that conditioning might surface at embarrassing moments, at least until he is reconditioned to a male gait. The same applies to speech and mannerisms. The result could be that some people might assume he was gay until the feminine behaviors were all unlearned."
Sarah and I exchanged a worried glance. I was pretty sure I wanted out of this, but I planned to leave it up to Sarah, as I didn't want to alienate her again. I hid my immense relief when she spoke up, "Maybe we shouldn't. Sorry to have taken your time, professor."
I was dismayed when Professor Hanford responded, "Let's not be quite so hasty. I didn't want to scare you off. I just wanted you to be aware of the effort involved not only before, but after this task. Actually, I think it would be a great learning experience for both of you, and could help you greatly in your careers."
"Can we think about it and get back to you?" I asked.
"Certainly! I would be disappointed if you didn't think this through before jumping in."
Sarah piped in, "Just for the sake of argument, what would the costuming involve. Not that I am saying Jeff will do this. Just that we need to understand what he, um, we might be getting into."
Professor Hanford pondered a moment. "Fair question. Actually, not too much." She looked me over critically. "Jeff has a slim build, which is a good starting point. He's taller than the typical woman, but not too tall. If we were to put him in a dress right now, the first thing people would notice is that he has no breasts. Given the extent of the deception you are considering, the best choice short of implants would be breast forms that are attached with an adhesive and removed with a special solvent. If selected properly, they would be virtually indistinguishable from the real thing, even letting him wear a bikini top. But those are not cheap."
I gulped, but managed to say, "Ok, that doesn't sound too bad yet. What else?"
"In a dress, the next giveaway would be hair. Yours has a good luster, and is marginally long enough, but is in an obviously masculine style. With some trimming, it could be made quite feminine, then after the week, a simple haircut would return it to a male style."
I grinned just a little. "That one sounds easy." I noticed Sarah had a hopeful little smile as well.
"Speaking of hair, body hair is another problem. Use of a depilatory or frequent shaving can handle that, and of course it would grow back fairly quickly after."
Oh boy, another relatively easy one! "Ok. What else?"
"Various things around the face would make a remarkable difference. Eyebrows plucked to a feminine arch would grow back over time. Pierced ears would help a lot, and would heal in a few months it left empty. Makeup, obviously, done in such a way to emphasize the cheekbones and eyes. Why, if you gave me an hour, from your neck up I could make you look like a very attractive girl right now."
"Um, I don't think I'm quite ready for that. But that doesn't sound so bad, if we do this." I thought Sarah was looking kind of encouraged.
The professor thought some more. "Your body shape is not great for a girl, but there are many attractive women that don't have much more of an hourglass figure than you. And then there is the problem of genitals. That would be a dead giveaway in a bikini bottom, or even possibly in tight girls' jeans or shorts. Hmmm." This topic made me blush, but she plowed onward. "I don't have personal experience with it, but I have heard of a device that is available. It is like a latex panty that can add fullness to the hips and rear, and accommodates the male genitalia while appearing to be a female vagina on the outside. The edges glue down just like the breast forms, and make it very difficult to tell it's not natural. Oh, and if you lost maybe ten pounds and did some exercises to slim your waist a little, that would help too."
That vagina thingy was kind of freaky, but I was curious. "Why would something like that even be available? And where would you get it?"
Professor Hanford grinned just a little. "Why, just for what you are thinking of. Do you think you're the only man that has thought to disguise himself as a woman? Actually, it is more common than you might think. Ever heard of female impersonators that do stage shows? How about transvestites? Even transgendered females could use them to help pass as their desired gender."
I blushed uncomfortably. "What is transgendered?"
Sarah stepped in here. "Isn't that when a person believes that their brain is a different gender than their body?"
The professor agreed, "That's pretty close. And many of these people feel the need to appear as their internal gender." She frowned now. "Some even end their lives unable to resolve the conflict they must fight." Then she brightened a bit. "As to where to get them, I'm sure you could order one from the Internet. There may even be a store in town that could fix you up. That would be better, since they could match skin color and texture to make it less noticeable. Again, the better it is, the more expensive."
We had a lot to think about. We left with a promise to let her know what we decided, and with her offering to do some research on sources for breast forms and the fake vagina.
We didn't talk much as we walked back to the apartment, each lost in our own thoughts. Dinner was quiet as well. We made a great team in the tiny kitchen, with almost no words required to cooperate on fixing the simple meal.
After we cleaned up, Sarah brought the subject back up for the first time since we left the professor. "Can we try just a couple of simple experiments to see how it goes?"
I was definitely nervous about this. "What kind of experiments?"
"Oh, I thought maybe you could try on a few of my clothes, just to see how they fit. And maybe you would let me make up your face to see what we have to work with?"
I wasn't all that comfortable with the idea, but I wasn't ready to be the one to back out of this yet. Not when Sarah was talking to me again. "Ok."
"Great! First, go shave really carefully, and then come on into the bedroom." I went and shaved, not that I had much beard to remove. When I entered the bedroom she got a lecherous grin on her face and said "Strip!" I did.
She tossed some silky panties to me. I looked at them and then back at her, blushing. "Go on, put them on. It's only clothing!"
So I slipped them up my legs and over my narrow hips. "Hmmm. I think maybe you should tuck yourself back between your legs for this experiment." I grumbled as I did that, pulled the panties up tight, then looked down at an almost feminine-looking crotch. "Stick your arms out." She slipped a wispy bra over my arms and struggled to fasten it behind. "I can see you will need the next size up. But it is fastened now, so we can try this for tonight." She stuffed a rolled up pair of nylons into each cup, and suddenly I had medium small boobs.
She handed me a pair of her jeans. I thought about how she looked in them as I pulled them up my legs, and my trapped manhood gave a twitch. It was a struggle to fasten them around my waist, but I managed. If I lost the weight Professor Hanford suggested, they would probably be just right.
Sarah spoke, "They are a bit loose in the hips and bum, but that is kind of what I expected. Otherwise, they look pretty good."
I thought they hugged me like a second skin! "You call that loose? And aren't they a bit short?"
Sarah looked. "For a guy maybe, but they look just fine for a girl. Here, put this on." She handed me one of her tops in a pale blue color and I pulled it over my head and down to my waist. Or rather, I tried. It was just a little short, and left maybe an inch of skin showing above the jeans. I looked at Sarah, and she was smiling in a way that made me kind of nervous.
"Ok, let me try a bit of makeup. Nothing garish and I promise! Nothing that won't wash off." I relented as gracefully as I could, and sat in the chair by her vanity. She turned me toward her so I couldn't see what she was doing.
"I should use a foundation to even out your skin tone first, but our skin colors are so different that mine would make you look pasty, so we'll skip that tonight."
She had me close my eyes and I felt a light brushing sensation across my eyelids. Then more pressure along the edges of the lids as she told me she was applying eye liner. Then I felt a sharp pain in my eyebrow and jumped. "Hold still. I just want to get rid of a couple of stray hairs. Nothing noticeable." A couple! She must have pulled out at least a dozen. She used some kind of pencil on my brows. Then came some mascara for my lashes.
She brushed something on my cheeks, moved back to look critically, then brushed a little more. Next, she outlined my lips with a pencil and filled them in with lipstick. Finally, she coated my lips with a gloss and moved back to check the overall effect. This couldn't have taken more than ten minutes, so I wasn't expecting too much.
She grabbed her hairbrush and did something with my hair. No trimming or anything, just brushing it a little differently than I normally do.
"Ok, let's take a look." I started to turn to look in the vanity mirror, but she stopped me and pulled me toward the closet. "Ready?" I nodded and she opened the door to swing the full length mirror on the inside around to face me. I wasn't ready for what I saw. There, framed in the mirror, was a tall, slender girl. She was no ravishing beauty, but was at least attractive. The hairstyle was a bit butch, but not bad when seen with the rest. I studied my face, trying to see me in there, and finally made out how she'd changed my appearance. The clothes added to the overall effect, even though they were not overtly feminine.
"So, what do you think?"
"Wow!" was all I could say.
"Yeah, wow! You know, I really think you could do this."
I gazed in the mirror. "I never thought I could look like that!"
"Oh, honey, that's with just a few minutes work. With some of the other things the prof talked about, you could look fantastic!"
"You think?" The actor in me was getting somewhat curious about this. "I still don't know about lasting a week with your friends though."
"I think you could. Tell you what, how about we work on this for a while, and see how it goes. If we get close to spring break and you decide it isn't going to work, we'll call it off. But if we plan for now for you to go, at least we won't be fighting about this trip all the time."
I was nervous, and just a little excited about the prospect. "Ok. We can try it. But what about the cost?"
Sarah spoke hesitantly. "I'll pay, since you're doing this for me." I knew she could do it, but it made me uncomfortable. I was getting through school ok, what with loans and a few grants, but there was little extra in my budget. Sarah and I shared expenses, and after a couple of initial 'discussions' she only paid her part of the costs, and we lived carefully. I knew that with her scholarships and the allowance she got from her folks, she could have lived much better, but she was happy with the way things were and never complained when our food was a little less exciting than it could be. She knew what I was thinking, and got a pleading expression on her face. "Please?"
I knew she would get her way. She normally did, so I gave in gracefully. "Ok. But let's not get carried away here!"
She launched herself at me and kissed me passionately with her arms wrapped around my neck. "Hmmm. This is interesting. I've never kissed a girl this way before." She giggled and pushed me down on my back on the bed, and suddenly her hands were roaming all over my body.
After the last couple of nights, it felt great to make love to Sarah again. The strange feel of lipstick on my lips faded to the background as our passion grew. It was late before we settled down to sleep. "Oh, I almost forgot! We have to get our makeup off before we sleep. Come on!" She dragged me to the bathroom, and soon I was learning the female nighttime bathroom ritual; makeup remover, cleanser, moisturizer, along with my normal tooth brushing. One more difference was that Sarah made me sit to use the toilet instead of standing, all the time giggling about not having to worry about the seat being left up anymore.
Back in bed, we cuddled and I started to settle down to sleep.
"You know, we can't call you Jeff while you're in disguise. What would you like to use as your girl name?"
I pulled myself back from sleep to mumble, "Dunno. Hadn't thought about it. Any ideas?"
"Well, it would be confusing to use any of my friends' names, so let's avoid those. Let me try a few, and see if anything appeals. Melanie, Sandy, Barbara, Alice, Allison, Diane, Deanna, um, Gail, Marissa, June, April…"
"Wait," I interrupted. "Marissa… I kind of like the sound of that."
"Ok. I hereby christen you Marissa. We can use Rissa for short. I like that too!"
This time she let me drift into slumber.
"Wake up Marissa." I heard the quiet voice through the fog of sleep, and it meant nothing, so I drifted off again. There was a poke in my ribs, "Wake up, Marissa, time to get out of bed, sleepyhead!"
"Hunh?"
"Come on you lazy girl, time to get a move on!" I felt smooth arms wrap around me from behind, and the feel of warm, firm breasts pressed into my back.
"Mmmm. I could get used to this." I sighed.
"Not today you can't! Get that cute little butt in gear, missy." I suddenly found myself on the floor beside the bed.
"Hey!"
Sarah was already on her way to the bathroom. "Come on! Let's stop by Professor Hanford's office before your nine o'clock class and see if she's there."
By the time I got to the bathroom, Sarah was already toweling herself dry from the shower, and before I got out of the shower and arrived in the kitchen with just a towel around my waist, Sarah had the coffee ready, and fruit and cereal waiting for me.
She giggled as I walked in. "Not like that, silly!" She came to me, and before I realized what she was doing, she had the towel off me. "Hmmm. What have we here?" She stroked my quickly hardening manhood, and then wrapped the towel around me just under my arms. "A girl has to protect some different real estate than guys do," she laughed.
I tried to sit to eat my cereal, but Sarah giggled again, and pointed out that I was showing off something I maybe should keep secret. I looked down, blushed, and slammed my legs together, tugging the towel down to cover me. Which of course caused it to slip down my chest, making Sarah laugh all the harder.
We finally got to the prof's office, and found she was there and alone for the moment. Sarah explained that we were going to give this a try, with me having the option to back out before spring break if it wasn't going well.
She tapped her chin. "Well, looks like we have our work cut out for us. I did some checking on the Internet. Be thankful you chose a school in a reasonable sized city, instead of out in the boonies. It happens there is a store here in town that can custom fit Jeff with color matched breast forms and the vagina panty. Here is the address. According to their web site, it takes about four weeks from the time of measurement until the custom-made items arrive from the fabricator."
Sarah took the slip of paper from her. "Ok, we'll visit them this afternoon. We don't have a lot of time to spare."
This was making me nervous. "Um…"
Sarah interrupted, "What do you think we should work on first? Clothes, speech, walking, mannerisms …"
Again I was left on the outside of the conversation as professor Hanford spoke to Sarah. "All of those. I can help with some of it. I can get her started with walking and using feminine gestures, which you two can practice together. There is a speech therapist here at the university that we can probably enlist to get her voice training started. Sarah, you will have to work with her in your apartment to get her used to the clothes, makeup, and feminine hygiene. You also need to develop a history for her, so you don’t trip each other up when the inevitable questions come up."
"Whoa. What's with all the feminine pronouns? I'm still a guy here."
Sarah spoke up, "Hush, Marissa. This is all for your own good, so be a good girl and let us work out the details."
"Marissa? I like that. And, by the way, since we will probably be working together quite a lot on your 'special project', maybe you should call me Jane when there aren't other students around."
"Ok, Jane." Sarah smiled, "and thanks for doing this."
I left for my class, and Sarah said she had to do some shopping, and would see me back that the apartment for lunch.
I couldn't have told you afterward anything that happened in class that morning. My mind was still in turmoil over what was happening to me. When I arrived back at our little apartment before lunch, Sarah hardly let me set my books down before she'd dragged me out the door.
"Let's grab a quick salad at Garden Express. We have some errands to run, and I don't want to take time fixing lunch here."
By that time, we were already in the car and driving, and it didn't seem worth the effort to respond, so I just went along like a good little boy. Lunch was pretty light, but my gut was worked up enough that I mostly poked around in the salad, and didn't finish it completely.
Sarah misinterpreted that, of course. "Good!" she said as we hurried out the door, "I'm glad to see you're taking this seriously. Losing a bit of weight will really help out the disguise."
Oh, well. At least she wasn't snapping at me, so I just kept quiet and let her think what she wanted. She would have anyway, but I might have disrupted the peace if I'd let her know what I was really thinking.
Sarah parked next to a shabby looking little shop in one of the older areas of town. The sign over the door read "Images", and when we got inside I could see that there were an unusual variety of feminine clothing, shoes, lingerie, wigs, jewelry and other things I couldn't readily identify in the subdued lighting. Sarah looked around the store for a few moments while I hung back. Before too long, a slightly plump middle-aged woman came through a curtain from what must have been the back room.
"Hi, I'm Nancy. Can I help you?"
I just looked toward Sarah, as I had no clue what she had in mind.
Thankfully she stepped into the lead role. "Yes. We're majoring in Theater Arts at the university. My fiancée here has a part playing a girl in a play we are doing in a few weeks for one of our classes, and we want to do up his costume right. Our professor, Jane Hanford, said you could supply us with some of the things we need to make him look really good."
Her smile was grandmotherly and knowing, "Yes, you've come to the right place. Do you have something in mind, or would you like me to describe what we can do for you?" She glanced over at me, and I felt my face warming.
"We need breast forms for him, the kind that glues on and are hard to distinguish from the real thing? Some of his costumes are pretty revealing so we'd like a pretty good match on skin color. Umm…"
"That should be no problem. We'll measure and fit in a minute. What else were you thinking?"
Sarah hesitated, "Well, Professor Hanford talked about a panty of some kind that can give him curves, and hide his, uh, his manhood."
"We can do that too. A gaffe will tuck him away nice and secure, and a panty brief can add some curves to his hips and bottom. We have some over here if you'd like to look?"
Sarah was even blushing by now. "Um, no... What we had in mind was something that could, uh, make him look more like a girl down there."
"Ah, I see! You want to go the whole route. Nothing but the best for your cutie here. We do sell one item that we special order. It combines the functions of the gaffe and the panty brief, has a molded in vagina with a tuft of pubic hair, and is made of a similar silicon to the breast forms so it looks pretty realistic. But it's kind of pricey."
"Yes, that's what I had in mind. How much?"
When she quoted the price, I suddenly felt faint. I tried to catch Sarah's eye, shaking my head vigorously, but she ignored me.
"You can match it to his skin and hair color, and shape it to give him a better figure?"
"Uh, Sarah…" I began, but she silenced me with a glare.
"Yes, we custom measure and can do an excellent job of matching the colors. Follow me into the back room and we can have some privacy to take his measurements."
Moments later my full body blush was on display for Nancy and Sarah, and Nancy was wielding a tape measure and notepad, and becoming almost as familiar with my anatomy as Sarah is. In fact, I think she poked that measuring tape into places even Sarah has never explored.
"Come over here, Sarah. I can show you some pictures while Jeff cools off a bit so we can match his skin color better. You can put your briefs back on now, Jeff."
Comments like that weren't helping the red flush disappear. After a few minutes of quiet discussion across the room, Nancy returned with a book of what looked like paint chips, and turned on some brighter lights. She looked at me closely, then flipped through the book, and started comparing chips to the skin above my briefs. After checking a few chips she nodded and noted the color number on her notepad. Then she moved that chip up to my chest, shifted a few chips over, and wrote down a different number.
"Ok, we've got the measurements, now we need to decide how big he is going to be up top."
Again I looked to Sarah. She grinned mischievously and winked at Nancy. "How do you think he would look with a pair of double-D's?"
Nancy smiled. "I think that would be great! Hold on just a moment." She disappeared into the front of the store.
"Sarah!"
"Hush, Rissa! Let us girls take care of you!"
"That's what I'm afraid of!"
Nancy reappeared, carrying a couple of bras with her and handed them to Sarah. Here, put one of these on him." Then she went to a shelf and took down two boxes. Returning, she opened the boxes and I glimpsed two very lifelike, very large breasts. She popped one into each of the cups of the bra Sarah had installed on me, and I almost fell over frontward.
"Stand up straight, Marissa!" Sarah said sternly. "What do you think, Nancy?"
I broke in, "Well I think they are huge!"
Nancy studied me. "Hmmm. Looks pretty good to me." She and Sarah exchanged glances, and then both burst out in laughter. She pulled the forms back out and put them back in the boxes. "Sarah, switch to the other bra." She returned the boxes to the shelf and returned with two different ones.
"These are B-cup. I think they would look pretty good on her."
Sarah and Nancy stood back and looked me over. At least I could keep my balance with these. B-cup? They still seemed huge, sitting there on my chest. I looked toward Sarah. It was hard to tell from this angle, but I guess they were a little smaller than the ones I loved on her.
Sarah broke the silence. "I agree. Those will do nicely."
"Ok," Nancy said, "She will need a 36B bra, so you can pick out some for her before the custom forms and panty show up. What else do you need?" She pulled the smaller forms from my bra to return them to the boxes and placed them back on the shelf.
"Do you have any inexpensive pads we can use till the real breast forms come?"
"Sure. Here." She pulled two foam pads from a drawer and Sarah stuffed them into my deflated bra.
"Ok, those will do for now."
I got dressed while the ladies went out to the front room. By the time I got out there with the bra and pads, Sarah had already paid, so I never saw the total. I was pretty sure I didn't want to.
On the way home we stopped at Wal-Mart and Sarah proceeded to pick out a few simple white bras and a package of plain cotton panties. Then she wandered through the section looking at the frillier things, eventually adding a couple of bra and panty sets that I would love to see her in. Maybe I would get to see that when this was all over. But for now I was resigned to wearing them.
Thankfully Sarah drove back to the apartment then. I had had about all I could take for one day.
Once inside, I asked Sarah if she could start dinner while I got started on homework for tomorrow.
"We'll get to that. First, though, you need to try on what we just bought, to make sure we have the right sizes."
"Now?"
"Yes, now!"
"Sarah!" She glared at me, so I gave her a mischievous grin. "Ok, I'll make a deal with you. I'll try them on if you model the fancy ones for me first."
She pulled me into the bedroom and stripped. First she slipped on the deep green satin bra and panty set.
Even using the tightest hooks, it was a little loose, but her C-sized boobs almost overflowed the smaller bra cups. The contrast of the color to her skin tone, and the sheen of the satin, not to mention the fantastic cleavage, were getting me pretty worked up. She twirled for me, and struck a few poses.
"That do?" she asked.
"Yeah, that will do just fine!" I reached for her, but she danced away.
"Tut, tut. No time for that just now!"
She switched to the pink lace set. The size problem was the same. This bra had lace cups that did little to hide Sarah's nipples. She strutted up to me, and I brushed my fingers lightly over her lace enclosed mounds.
"Mmmm. That's nice!" she whispered, then stepped back. "Your turn," she said brightly.
I grumbled and started pulling off clothes while she opened one of the plain bras and the package of panties. I pulled on the panties and struggled with the bra.
"You'll need to practice this" she said as she fastened the hooks for me. "You need to be able to fasten your bra by yourself!"
She slipped the foam pads into the cups, and then slid her finger under the band of the bra. "Size seems ok." Then she stepped back and gestured me to the mirror.
What I saw was a slender girl reflected back at me — if you ignored the head. My face fell. "Sarah, I don’t know about this."
Sarah took my hands and led me to the bed, seating me beside her. I noticed a tear trickle down her cheek. "I guess this isn't going to work out, is it Jeff?"
"It scares me, Sarah."
"I won't make you do this, sweetheart. I love you too much." She leaned over and kissed me tenderly, then rose and walked toward the kitchen. At the bedroom door she stopped, and looked back at me. "Jeff, I don't want us to fight like we were. I will talk to Debby tomorrow about spending the next few weeks with her." Then she disappeared.
I looked after her, and thought about being without her. From the kitchen came sounds of Sarah starting dinner. I tried to see it from her point of view, and realized how selfish I had been. How focused on my needs, instead of hers, or ours. Then I thought about how I had behaved since promising her I would be her eighth girlfriend for spring break. And it seeped into my brain that again I had been selfish. I had worried only about me, and had dragged my feet every step of the way.
It was time to make a decision, and stick with it, go with it full throttle. Was I going to chicken out of this masquerade, and let Sarah move out temporarily, or was I going to put us first and just get on with this?
Funny how when you think about something the right way, the decision becomes so obvious. Sarah means the world to me. She is the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with. That means doing what it takes to make that happen. And right now, the way to make that happen was to throw myself into being her best friend, as a man, but for now, especially as a woman.
I looked down at myself in the simple white bra and panties. I guess now is the time to start. Standing up, I stripped out of the plain lingerie. Sarah still wore the pink lacy bra set, so I took the green satin panty, still warm from her skin, with the faint scent of her, and pulled them up my legs. Then the satin bra, filled with the foam pads. Looking around I tried to think how to impress this on Sarah.
My gaze paused on Sarah's vanity, and I quickly sat down to look over her makeup. I had watched her dozens of times, loving the way she started with her beautiful face and enhanced it before my eyes.
Looking at my own face, I realized my eyebrows were too bushy, even after the few hairs Sarah had plucked yesterday. I took her tweezers and removed some more along the bottom edge, thinning the arch of my brow. That left it closer to the feminine ideal, but was not so obvious I couldn't get by as Jeff for the next few weeks.
Remembering the steps as she had made me up yesterday, I started doing my best to imitate her work with the pencils, potions, brushes and powders. I had to start over several times before I got something I felt was acceptable. I decided it was good enough for tonight.
I started brushing my hair, stroking it till it shone a lustrous ebony, trying different arrangements, looking for a feminine style. I settled for a bob that hung smoothly just above my shoulders, curling in slightly at the bottom. It looked right with the slight Asian cast of my features. Pulling some of the hair down over my forehead, I used Sarah's scissors to trim the bangs above my eyebrows. When I was satisfied, I brushed it back into my normal style, and was happy to see that the trimming was not too noticeable, then returned it to the girly look.
Thinking for a minute, I then went to her drawers in the dresser, and poked around for a few minutes till I found her sheer white baby doll. I slipped it on, and then walked to the closet. I found Sarah's high-heeled slippers, and squeezed my feet into them, realizing I would have to buy slightly larger footwear for myself. Trying to negotiate the tall heels, I staggered to the full length mirror, and saw an attractive, sexy girl with her deep green lingerie peeking through the near transparent outer garment.
Standing in front of the mirror, I thought about what I was doing. Did I want this? Not really. Was I going to do this? Definitely! This was what I needed to do for Sarah right now. End of discussion.
I spent a few minutes walking around the room, trying to get comfortable walking in heels. Concentrating on how Sarah walked in them, I adjusted my gait until I felt I had a pale imitation of the flowing movement I so admired in her.
I took a deep breath, and made my way to the kitchen. Pausing at the door, as yet unseen by Sarah, I watched this beautiful woman move about the kitchen in just the sheer lacy pink bra and panties, and felt a twinge in my crotch. God, she was beautiful.
I stepped into the kitchen, and Sarah turned at the sound of the heels on the hard flooring. She froze with a startled expression, staring at me.
"What!" I breathed in the imitation girl's voice I had practiced for last years play. Sarah still made no move. "Did I mess it up that badly?" I pouted.
Sarah finally shook herself, and started breathing again. "No! I'm just… You look great! You just surprised me."
I gathered my courage. "Sarah, I want to apologize for my behavior these past few weeks. And for the way I behaved this past day, too. Yesterday I promised I would play this part, and have done nothing to be helpful since. I've thought about this. I don't want to lose you, not even for the few weeks till spring break. From right now, I will be Marissa, when I don't have to be Jeff for school. I will learn, and I will make you proud of me as your girlfriend."
A smile slowly formed on her face, and another tear trickled down her cheek. She whispered, "Thank-you!" She moved to me, and pulled me into a fierce hug, then kissed me fervently. She started pushing me back toward the bedroom. "Can you be at least part Jeff for a little bit?" as her hands moved over my body, and my breath started to labor.
Dinner was forgotten that night, but I suppose it was a good thing for my waistline. Of course, what kept me occupied that night was not exactly learning to be a girl!
At home, Sarah handed me a bottle of depilatory, with instructions to use it all over my body except for my pubic hair, my face and my head. Twenty minutes later I watched my sparse hair swirling down the shower drain. Following her instructions, I washed my hair with her flower scented shampoo, and used her cream rinse. Then I shaved carefully, even though I really couldn't find anything to shave, given my slow growing, sparse facial hair.
Remembering Sarah's teasing, I wrapped a towel around my chest and tried to use one like a turban around my hair, but had little success with that. Sarah giggled when she saw my failed attempt, then showed me how to do it right. She patted my body dry and applied a sweet smelling powder, then sat me at the vanity and had me do the makeup myself, giving me pointers and making me redo it when I didn't meet her standards. The final result was worth it, though. It looked much better than my feeble attempt the night before.
I dressed in the jeans, the flats, and a peasant blouse the left a hint there might be cleavage where I really had none. Sarah brushed my hair back into the bob I had adopted the night before, and snipped a few more hairs, then sat back to look me over. With a decisive nod, she pulled me to the mirror. The girl staring back was beyond attractive. There was no way this slender girl was I!
We went to the mall, and I couldn't help but be nervous. Sarah talked to me, encouraging, comforting, cajoling, and I talked back, practicing my voice lessons, working out my tension. First came dinner, such as it was, at the salad restaurant in the food court. Then on to the cosmetics department at a large chain store. The girl at the counter, no older than I, studied my skin tone and face, and then settled in to showing me the correct colors and techniques that suited me best. When we left there, we carried a sizeable chunk of change in the form of cosmetics in our shopping bags.
Next was a little shop where Sarah had my ears pierced, thankfully only once, and I left with stinging ear lobes, understated little gold studs, instructions on caring for the piercings, and a half dozen sets of earrings.
"We are close enough to the same size that when you drop a little weight we can share a lot of clothes, but you need some of your own. You need a style that is unique to you. It would look odd if you were a carbon copy of me," Sarah mused.
We window shopped through the mall, occasionally entering a store to look closer. Sarah had me try on several things, but we bought only a few, not really knowing what style suited my looks or my self image.
All this time, people looked at me and treated me as if I was just another pretty girl. My confidence grew, and my nerves calmed. I even began to have fun, looking over the clothes, talking about styles and colors, our classes and the upcoming trip,
In one window, there was a silk dress in an oriental style, with the subtle pattern of a dragon that wrapped around the body. I held Sarah from walking past as I gazed at the dress. When she saw what had stopped me, she smiled and pulled me into the store. We left that store some time later with the dress in my size in sapphire blue with shadings of lighter blue to highlight the dragon. We also had several tops in silk, also reminiscent of Asia, as well as a pant suit that followed the motif. At least for the moment, I had found a clothing style to set me apart from Sarah.
The next weeks seemed to fly by. Classes seemed unreal, and became more so, as that was the only time I spent as Jeff. From the time I got home till the next day when I left for class I dressed as Marissa, and practiced the feminine speech, gestures, movements, makeup and dress that Sarah, Jane, and Karen were drilling into me. I submerged myself into the role, until it seemed it was harder to act the part of Jeff than to be Marissa. Sarah kept me in heels most of the time until it became natural walking in them. It got to the point that wearing flats seemed strange and vaguely uncomfortable. Several times I almost embarrassed myself while wearing guy clothes when I caught myself using feminine behaviors.
We went everywhere together, just a couple of pretty girls doing what girls do. Except, of course, in the privacy of our bedroom, when I did decidedly ungirly things with Sarah.
We watched what we ate, concentrating on healthy, low fat foods, and we attended an aerobics class the college provided. Sarah had trimmed down a few pounds, and I had lost about eight, tightening my waist by a couple inches by the time Nancy finally called from Images, to let us know our special order had arrived.
We went to the store Friday afternoon, after classes, figuring I would be able to wear my new appliances all weekend, to try to get used to them. Getting into the silicon panty was a struggle, but when I got it on and Nancy showed us how to glue it in place and mask the edges with makeup, Sarah giggled and clapped her hands excitedly. Looking in the mirror, I saw, from the waist down, a shapely nude girl, and blushed brightly. I quickly pulled my panties on. Hmmm. My panties. Never thought I'd be thinking that!
Next, Nancy showed us how to attach and blend the breast forms. I was surprised at the weight pulling down on my chest, after using the foam pads for a month. I shook my shoulders and watched the very realistic movement of the masses that now seemed part of my body. When I looked in the mirror now, I saw a shapely girl wearing only panties. I blushed, modestly crossing my hands over my bare breasts and Nancy grinned knowingly.
I was amazed at the difference in the fit of my clothes now. Things hugged my new curves and showed the world what an attractive figure I now sported. For a while, the added weight on my chest, and to a lesser degree on my hips and fanny, threw off my balance, and affected the way I moved. It didn't take long to make the adjustments, though.
My confidence swelled, now that I possessed the classic female curves, and Sarah noticed, commenting on it. It took a little while to get used to peeing with the silicon appliance in place. The feel was so different than I was used to. And, of course, I now had no choice but to sit, which did funny things to my mind, even though Sarah had made me sit on the toilet ever since this had started.
I found one disadvantage to the prosthetic panty that night, however. There was no way to do boy things to Sarah while it was glued in place. That didn't stop Sarah, though. She explored my new curves and crevices lovingly, and with that exploration found the spots that were close enough to my trapped manhood to arouse wonderful feelings, even though there was no room to get stiff. It was disappointing that there was no sensation from the breast forms, though, because Sarah had fun playing with those as well as my new, imitation lower plumbing.
While Sarah worked away at my unfamiliar territory, I explored her familiar terrain, and eventually, after her third climax, she found the formula to set me off as well. We cleaned up from my explosion, and then cuddled together like a couple of satisfied lesbian lovers, falling asleep in each others arms.
Male-female coupling became pretty scarce for a while, as I got used to the appliance, and until it became an easy routine to remove and reapply it, then our love became a mixture, giving us the best of both worlds.
Finally, three weeks before spring break, Jennifer called Sarah. By this time, I was pretty into my Marissa persona, and when I heard who Sarah was talking to, I felt a little sick in the pit of my stomach. I needn't have worried, though, as I later found out that Jenn had made an unexpected trip to Europe, and had been injured in a skiing accident in the Alps. She was OK, but had finally resigned herself to the fact she would not be back in time to go with the other girls.
Sarah had hinted to her buddies about taking a girlfriend in Jenn's place if she couldn't come, and after hearing from her absent friend, passed the word on to the other six, persuading them to let her college friend Marissa come along to fill the vacancy. So, I was in, and suddenly nervous in a way I had not been for weeks. It had become too real, and I was going to have to live with Sarah and six other girls in very close quarters for a full, wild week.
Sarah had suggested a background for Rissa, and we practiced it and honed the details as I worked to master my feminine behavior. To cover any slips, I was the only girl child of a widower with four sons, so had been raised without female influence since I was a little kid. Sarah had befriended me at school, and had taught me most of what I knew about being feminine. That part at least was so true! That should cover any blunders into masculine behavior that I might suffer, as it could be explained as a throwback to my days at home. In addition, despite spending my childhood surrounded by father and brothers, I was very shy around other boys, explaining my reticence about getting too close to any during the party week. We picked a little town in Oregon as my fictional home, far from any of the colleges Sarah's friends attended. We chose that as I had spent one summer there with my real family, so I knew at least a little about the area.
Sarah had continued to fill in my wardrobe with the things that were inconvenient to share, even though most of her clothes fit me as well as they did her now. I had my own lingerie, some of it quite sexy. And I had some clothing to establish my independent style. There were a couple of one piece swim suits that while they covered me well, hugged my curves so closely I might as well have been naked. Sarah also brow beat me into getting a couple of bikinis, even though I couldn't imagine me wearing them. She had to force me to wear one of them to the college indoor pool so I could at least be used to them, just in case. Let me tell you, that was an experience! I had never been so uncovered in front of so many people in my life. But I survived, and privately I thought I looked pretty damn good, too.
For the last couple of weeks, Sarah got me out into public as much as she could. While it made me really nervous, she even set up a couple of dinner dates with some guys she knew. They knew she was engaged, and that she was off limits, so there was no problem there. That didn't stop them from scoping me out, though, and I had to fend off a little more male attention than I was really comfortable with. It did a lot for my confidence, though. It made me realize I could pass as a girl in pretty close quarters.
About a week before the break, Sarah sat me down to have a serious talk.
"Rissa, we need to understand some things before we go, and there are a few things left for you to practice." I hadn't a clue what she was talking about. "Rissa… no Jeff, I love you. And I am going to marry you when we graduate. But for this week, with my friends, we are a couple of girls out to have fun." I felt a knot starting to form in my gut. "That will mean being around boys, partying, swimming, drinking. There will undoubtedly be times when it is appropriate to get a little friendly with a guy. This is not love, I don't plan to have sex with anyone but you, but I do expect I will kiss a guy or two, and maybe do some making out during this week. That is part of the fun of spring break with a group of girlfriends. Are you going to be able to handle that?"
There was a really sick feeling in my tummy by now. "I don't know, Sarah." I looked down, not wanting to meet her eyes. "This is what had me so upset when you started making these plans. This is what I was afraid of."
"Jeff, look at me." She forced my chin up and looked deep in my eyes. "Never doubt that I love you. I will marry you, and you are the only guy I want to spend my life with. Can you believe that?" I nodded uncertainly. "Really?" I tried to look down, but she wouldn't let me. She kissed me lovingly, our lipstick coated lips meeting, and caressing, tongues probing, and I finally sighed and nodded. "Good. Because it is the absolute truth. Nothing is going to happen this week to change that. Understand?" I nodded again, and kissed her with more than a bit of desperation.
She hugged me tightly and said "OK!" After she held me a minute, she went on. "There's more, Rissa." I noticed the switch in names, and felt dread again. "For this week, you are my girlfriend any time we are not alone together, and for safety, most of the time even when we are alone. But what that means, is that as part of your role, you will be with guys too. And there may be times when they expect a hug, and maybe even a kiss. You are a pretty girl, and you will attract a lot of attention. Girls always have the right to say no when attention goes too far, but too far is, usually, well past a kiss. Do you understand what I am saying?"
I had started shaking my head slowly while she spoke, but she gripped me tightly. "Jeff! Stop! Remember your role last year? In that role you had to kiss your 'boyfriend' a couple of times. You did it, didn't you?" I nodded hesitantly. "Well, this is no different. You are playing a role, and the script may call for a kiss or two, and maybe a cuddle. You did it last year, you can do it now! Right?" I looked pleadingly at her. "Right?" I slowly nodded.
I might have to kiss a guy? What would that do to my male image? What would that do, at least on a subconscious level, to Sarah's perception of me? My heart was pounding and my mind was in a whirl. Sarah saw the beginnings of panic and shook me. "It's just a role, Jeff! Just a role."
I sighed, and nodded my acceptance.
Sarah set up a double date for us to see a movie with another couple of guys she knew. It was Tuesday night, just a few days before we were to leave. Bill and Dave were tall and ruggedly handsome, something I could never lay claim to as Jeff, and I felt immediately intimidated. They were polite, and solicitous, opening doors, getting refreshments, escorting us by the arm as we walked, and their chivalry disarmed me, so that I started to relax. In the movie, Bill put his arm around my shoulders, but did not hold me tightly, so I let it go. Part way through the show, he pulled me lightly toward him, and guided my head to rest on his shoulder. I glanced over and saw Sarah in much the same position with Dave, and I felt a flash of jealousy, but she smiled at me lovingly, and I relaxed.
After the movie, Bill led me by the hand back to Dave's car, and I didn't pull away, knowing I had to learn this part of my role. He held the door for me to slide into the back seat, following me in. Again he pulled me to him and guided my head to his shoulder. We talked quietly as Dave drove and talked with Sarah in the front. We stopped at a coffee house, and the guys bought cappuccinos for us, then we sat and talked, sometimes all together, sometimes two couples talking independently. I had tried to keep my fears strictly under control, and as the evening progressed, I slowly relaxed. The guys kept up an easy conversation, and I found my answers about my classes, and my fabricated history coming easily. I also practiced the feminine art of drawing Bill out with questions, and showed interest in his answers, all as Sarah had behaved toward me when we were dating. She smiled at me across the table encouragingly, and that made me relax a bit more.
When they dropped us back at our apartment, they walked us to the door, and then drew us a little apart, so each guy could be alone with his date.
"I had a really good time tonight, Marissa."
I smiled at him. "Me too, Bill," and surprised myself by actually meaning it.
"Can I see you again?"
I hesitated, not sure how to handle this. "Um, Sarah and I are going to be gone all next week," I said weakly.
"Oh," came out a little disappointed, but then he brightened a little. "Do you have plans Thursday?"
"No," popped out before I thought it through. I could have kicked myself.
"Great! How about dinner then?" And before I could formulate an answer, he guided my chin up, and leaned in to kiss me on the lips, gently, lingeringly. In a bit, I heard Dave moving off, and Sarah's key in the door. Bill pulled back, leaving my mind confused, reeling. "I'll pick you up at 7." And he was gone.
I just leaned on the wall outside the apartment in a daze. Sarah finally stuck her head out and dragged me inside.
"So?"
I pulled my thoughts together. "So what?"
"So, how did it go? Was the kiss so bad? It didn't look like you were fighting it too much," she smirked.
"He caught me by surprise! He distracted me by asking me to dinner, and before I could figure out how to decline, he swooped in for the kiss!" I had tears leaking out of my eyes.
Sarah pulled me into an embrace and whispered, "It's ok. Hush. It's fine."
"But I kissed a guy!" I cried.
"Yes, you did. You played your role beautifully," she reminded me. I sobbed against her and she led me off to bed. She lovingly removed the panty and breast forms using the solvent, cleaned me up, and then made passionate love to me, making me feel like the studliest man on earth. God, I love this woman.
Wednesday was pretty much back to normal, at least as normal as it is for a guy to run around as a girl. I was used to walking the campus as Rissa by now, and thought nothing of it. In fact, it was hard to stay in character as Jeff when I had classes to attend. Whenever I went to the speech lab or Jane's office, shopping, eating out, movies, whatever, I was dressed as a girl these days.
Thursday after school, Sarah got me to bathe and shave, then did my makeup especially carefully.
"Are we going out tonight?"
She smiled and nodded. She pulled out her little black dress and helped me put it on. It hugged my figure like a coat of paint and showed off the cleavage my fake boobs created. Sarah lovingly fixed my hair, and just as she showed me the heavenly creature that looked back at me from the mirror, the doorbell rang.
"Who's that?"
She tugged me toward the door. "Let's go see!" she said brightly as I got an uncomfortable feeling.
The door opened and there was Bill. I'd forgotten all about dinner, but Sarah hadn't. I looked at her, and she smiled sheepishly.
"Wow!" Bill enthused. "You look fantastic, Marissa!"
Sarah kissed me on the cheek, stuck a black clutch purse in my hand, and pushed me out the door. "Bye! Have fun. Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" she shot at me, and then giggled.
I looked helplessly from her to Bill, then back. "But…"
"Shoo. Have a good time." And the door closed behind me.
Bill was all gentleman again, and looked pretty hot in his snug black jeans and gray shirt. He'd left a few buttons open at the neck so that curly dark chest hair peeked out. We went to a quiet little Italian restaurant, and ate a delicious meal accompanied by easy conversation. I learned more about Bill, his courses, his plans, his dreams, and he learned more about me. What Sarah and I hadn't worked up in the cover story I improvised staying as close to my life as I could; my major, plans after college, marriage, kids. I was surprised how well my own imagined future mapped to Rissa.
Afterward we walked hand in hand through the winding paths of the campus. We sat on a bench and talked some more, and Bill put his arm around me to ward off the mild chill in the air. This time when he kissed me, I was ready for it, and planned to keep it short and simple. Bill had other plans, and before long I found myself melting into his embrace.
This was so different from kissing Sarah! The rasp of his beard stubble against my smooth skin, his masterful directing of the kiss compared to Sarah's gentle passion. It was easy to just let him lead the way, and to follow along passively.
He pulled back from the kiss and looked deep into my eyes, lightly stroking my cheek with the back of his hand. "You're a special girl, Rissa."
Boy, it he just knew how special!
He kissed me again, with more heat this time, and I was swept along, feeling my breathing grow ragged. His hands stroked my back, my sides, my cheek, down to cup my enhanced bottom. He continued the kiss, pulling me to him tightly, controlling me with his powerful embrace, and I started to lose sight of Jeff, of me. I began to panic, and Bill felt me tense, pulling back, saying "Shhh. It's ok. I guess I got a little carried away there. Sorry. You're just so damned beautiful, and I like being around you so much…"
I looked sadly at him. "I think its time I went home now, Bill." He sighed, then stood and offered me his hand, holding onto it as we made our way back to his car. He gallantly held the door for me and handed me into the car, then went around to the driver's side. The ride home was quiet, each of us lost in our own thoughts.
Walking me to my door, he held me back before I could unlock it. "Marissa, I'm sorry I came on so strong tonight. I lost control a little. It just seems so right to be with you, to hold you. It's so sweet to kiss you…"
"Bill, don't get stuck on me. I'm going to be gone next week, and I don't know if I'll be back." I touched his cheek carefully, and then stretched up to kiss him lightly on the lips, before turning to unlock the door and slip inside.
The apartment was quiet, and I turned off the single light Sarah had left on for me, finding my way to the bathroom in the dark. I switched on the light after closing the door and looked at the pretty, sorrowful face in the mirror. What had I done? Who am I anymore? I didn’t have any answers to give my reflection, so I quietly performed my nighttime ritual. I hand washed the lingerie and hung it to dry, then padded nude back to the bedroom, dress in one hand and shoes in the other. Quietly hanging the dress and returning the shoes to the closet in the dark, I slipped naked into bed beside Sarah. A tear slipped from my eye just as I felt her hand gently stroke my cheek, and she quickly hugged me to her.
"Rissa?"
"Shhh. Tomorrow." I gradually drifted off to sleep as tears leaked down my cheek to soak into the pillow.
I woke up the next morning feeling like my head was stuffed with cotton. I looked around with bleary eyes, and tried to bring my surroundings into focus. I felt like hell, and wasn't quite sure why. I felt a gentle stroking of my hair and heard a whispered, "Morning, sweetheart."
Sarah's arms came around me from behind and hugged me to her, mashing her bare breasts against my back.
"You gonna be OK?"
I shrugged, struggling to bring order to the chaos that swamped my mind.
"Want to talk about it?"
I wriggled around to face her, and drank in the lovely face of my fiancée. I searched her eyes for a clue of what was going on, and then felt my mind start to clear. My eyes slowly opened wide, reflecting the horror of my memories of the night before, and I tried to pull away from Sarah. She held me tight, and murmured in my ear, "It's ok, sweetheart. Everything is going to be ok."
I shook my head wildly, trying to push her away. "No! You don’t understand! You'll hate me!" I wailed. She held on, and I quit struggling, moaning "You don’t understand!" over and over.
She kissed me gently on the lips, and it felt wondrous. She whispered, "Tell me, please. Tell me what happened."
"I can't!"
"Why? Why would I hate you?"
"Because I did a terrible thing!"
"I love you. Nothing will change that. Tell me, please."
I searched her eyes, and saw the love shining there. I bit my lip and tried to look away, but she wouldn't let me.
So I broke down and told her everything, knowing she couldn't possibly love me after what I'd done, but knowing I had to tell her, be honest with her. When I finally ran down, she held me still. When she was sure I was done she asked gently, "What was so bad in that? Are you in love with him?" I shook my head. "Are you planning to dump me because of this?"
"No. But…"
"But nothing! Look at me. Do I look like I hate you? Do I look like I want to push you away? No. I still love you just as much as I did yesterday, and the day before. Maybe even more because of what you are doing for me, because of what you are going through because of your love for me."
"But I kissed a man!" I wailed.
She leaned in and kissed me passionately. "And I kissed a woman just now. What is so wrong with that?"
"Sarah! I'm a man, and it's not wrong for you to kiss me. It's wrong for me to kiss another man!"
"Listen to me, honey. You are acting out a role, a role that I have helped you create, and have pushed you deeper into. You have started living that role, and doing many of the things that are natural to that role. Last night you were a beautiful woman alone with a handsome man. A man that desired you. A man that made you feel good about being with him, and about kissing him. There is no wrong in that, no shame."
"But, how can you see me as a man, as your future husband, if I act as a woman. How can you ever see me as a man again?"
"I didn't fall in love with you because you are a macho man. I fell in love with you because you are you. It is you I love, not some hulking physique, and not some manly attitude. I loved you when I agreed to marry you, and I still love you when you have buried yourself in the persona of a woman. You are still the same person."
I clutched her to me, whispering "Thank you. Oh, Sarah, I love you so much!"
We cuddled for a while more while I regained my mental equilibrium, but finally Sarah said "Come on, we have to get moving. Just this one last day of classes, then it's off for a week of fun and sun. A week unlike anything you have ever had."
My, but she was a master of understatement!
I might as well have not even gone to classes that day, for all that I can remember from them. But that was not so different from everyone else. When the last class was over, I hurried back to the apartment where I found Sarah with our bags pretty much packed. She was just waiting for me to make sure there was nothing she missed. I searched carefully through my bag, and found not a stitch of male clothing, and once again the enormity of this undertaking crashed down on me. I sat on the bed by my suitcase, dazed and terrified before pulling myself back together. I scanned the bathroom and bedroom, but could find nothing else I wanted to take.
Sarah came to me hesitantly with the bottle of solvent. "We don't know exactly what the situation will be like this week, or when we might next have a chance. Please make love to me tonight, Jeff."
We set a record removing my prostheses, and then showered together. We made love in the shower, then again as we tried to make dinner in the kitchen, and finally several times during the night in our bed. Eventually, far too late into the night, we fell asleep in each others arms.
The next day, Jane Hanford introduced me to Karen Watts, the speech therapist she knew, and my voice lessons started on the spot. That same day I spent a couple of hours with Jane, learning to walk like a girl. Sarah took me shopping for a few things, including a comfortable pair of tan women's flats, white heeled sandals, and some moderate heels in black. She also bought a pair of low-rider women's jeans a size larger than hers, though she had hopes my diet would make hers fit well enough in a few weeks.
Morning came really early that Saturday, but we had things to do, and a long way to travel. Sarah helped me get glued back together, and then inspected me carefully to make sure nothing was showing that would give the game away. After a light breakfast we were off. We were both exhausted by the time we'd arrived in Lake Havasu and fought our way through the growing crowds to our motel. Sarah checked us in, and found that we were among the first of the group to arrive. We had two adjoining two bedroom mini-suites, so Sarah claimed key cards for both of us, and we hauled our bags to the rooms. The room was deceptively quiet when Sarah opened the door and poked her head in, but that didn't last long. Suddenly there was a shriek of "Sarah!" and a blonde, pixy-sized whirlwind appeared and engulfed Sarah in a hug, pecking her on the cheek, while at nearly the same time looking past her to me and gushing "Oooh, this must be Marissa!" and before I knew it I was embraced and pecked just as Sarah had been. The pint-sized dynamo stepped back, holding onto my hand, and gave me an appraising once-over. "Guess we're going to have a little competition for the guys this year, won't we, Sarah?" Then called out "Kelly! Sarah and her friend are here." Sarah finally got a word in edgewise, "Rissa, this is not the Tasmanian devil, hard as that is to believe. Her name is Marci, and she'll wear you out quicker than anything! Marci, as you've guessed, this is Marissa." Marci's continuing appraisal was making me nervous, but I managed to get out "Nice to meet you, Marci. I've heard Sarah speak of you often." At the same time I was noticing her blue eyes, cute face, tiny figure, and breasts that should have looked too big for her build, but somehow looked just right. Marci had a smile that kind of lit up the room. She gushed, "This is going to be a great week! Glad you could come join us." Then she finally let go of my hand and was off through the connecting door to the other suite yelling "Kelly! Where are you?" Sarah had a rueful grin on her face. "Sorry about that. She can be kind of overwhelming when you first meet her." I smiled back. "Yeah! I like her, though." About that time I noticed over Sarah's shoulder another figure coming from the other suite. This one was tall, about my height or maybe taller. Her hair was a striking golden blonde, where Marci's had been pale. It was long, well past her shoulders, thick, and naturally (I assumed) wavy. Her piercing green eyes scanned over me before turning to Sarah. Her voice was quiet and melodic, "Hi, Sarah. Good to see you again." Compared to Marci, Kelly was positively sedate, but she had a wicked grin as she turned to me, gave me a quick hug, and in a warm voice said, "Hi, Marissa, I'm Kelly. I'm so glad you could come with Sarah." "Hi, Kelly. I'm glad, too." She turned back to Sarah. "Well, I'd better get back to unpacking. Pick a room and make yourselves at home." With that she went back to the other suite. "Come on, Rissa. Let's find a place and get settled in." Sarah poked her head into the two bedrooms opening off the sitting area, and then asked "Any preference?" I shook my head, so she took the one on the right, adjacent to the other suite. "Ok, let's go here." I trailed along, and followed her example of unpacking my clothes into the dresser and closet, looking around as I did. It was a nice room, clean, not huge, but not crowded either. The queen-sized bed was looking pretty inviting about now after the travel, the continual worry about discovery and interacting with more people than ever as Rissa, and finally meeting the first of Sarah's friends. "Sarah, I'm bushed. Would it be ok if I took a little nap?" "Sure, honey. It's probably a good idea. If I know this group, we'll probably be on the move this evening, so a little rest would do you good. Gotta keep up, girl!" Sarah wandered out of the bedroom and into the suite next door, and I heard the murmur of voices. I slipped off my shoes, crawled under the comforter, and was out like a light. I semi-surfaced a couple of times when I thought I heard Marci's shriek, and vaguely assumed the other gang members were arriving, but had no trouble dropping off again. Some time later, I roused to someone shaking me by the shoulder. "Wake up, Rissa. Everyone's here and ready to go to dinner." "Hunh?" I looked around, and saw from the dim light coming in the window that it was early evening, and I had slept more than an hour. "Ok. I'm up." I sagged back into bed. "Up!" Sarah started tickling my ribs, which brought a giggle out of me, and got me moving. I checked my makeup in the mirror, refreshed the lipstick, and ran a brush through my hair till it was back in place. I was again thankful for the simple hairstyle that looked good on me. Taking a deep calming breath, I followed Sarah back into the sitting room. Sarah spoke above the several conversations going on simultaneously. "Hey, everyone, this is Marissa." "Hi!" I chirped into the quiet that fell, giving a little wave to the assembly. "OK," Sarah started, "You've met Marci and Kelly. Over here is Julie, the one over there with the buzz is Sherry, then Lynn, and Sue was around here somewhere, oh, there she is." A brunette had just wandered in from the other suite. She had the longest hair I think I'd ever seen, easily reaching down past her very attractive posterior. And she was tall, probably six feet, and with the four inch heels she wore, she towered over me. She was also the curviest of the bunch, but with her height, it was impossible to call her plump. She strode confidently over to me and gave me a quick hug. "Welcome!" Her voice was a rich alto, deeper than most women I'd heard, but musical. The babble had started again, with more individual conversations going on than girls in the room. Not a few of them were greeting me interspersed with there exchange with one or more of the others. I managed to respond to most of the greetings, the ones I caught anyway, but otherwise kind of stood there in a daze. Sarah came to my side, continuing to talk to Sherry, and squeezed my arm. "Takes a bit of getting used to, doesn't it?" Suddenly the talking tapered off, and Julie spoke up, "Ok, it's decided. We'll go to Emelio's for dinner, and then hang together for the evening. The place is pretty nice, so everyone get ready and we'll head out about 9." It was like a fire drill, bodies going every which way. Sarah managed to drag me back into our room before I got trampled. "Quick, get your stuff. We can share a shower to save time, but we gotta grab one before someone else does." Then she was gone, and I scrounged my shower stuff and a robe and ran after her. Sarah was already in the shower before I got in there, and I stripped and joined her. She quickly soaped me up and I returned the favor. I would dearly have loved to spend a bit more time on her, but we rushed out, dried, and wrapped towels around our hair. I donned my robe while Sarah wrapped a towel around her, and we vacated, barely getting out before Sherry charged in already down to her panties and bra. Back in our room I sagged back against the closed door. "Whew! How do you guys keep this up?" "Practice," Sarah laughed as she pawed through the closet. She tossed me a halter-top mini-dress in a bright emerald green. "This would be great for you tonight." I held the scrap of material up and examined it. "Sure I won't get arrested in this?" Sarah grinned as she pulled out her LBD. "No sweat. You'll be one of the most covered girls there!" I pulled out some lingerie and stockings and started putting them on. "You can put the bra back, silly. You can't wear it with that dress!" Oops! I started my makeup. I'd gotten much better at it, but was not nearly as quick as Sarah. When I was satisfied I grabbed the blow drier Sarah had just finished with and started drying my hair. Again, thanks to the style, once it was dry, it only took a few brush strokes to have it ready. Once more I picked up the dress and looked at it skeptically. "Are you sure about this?" Sarah just giggled. I looked at the result in the mirror, and almost gasped. That was one hot chick, and I wanted her bad! Sarah laughed and dragged me out into the front room. "Quit admiring yourself sweetie! Leave that to the guys tonight." I blushed as the girls that were waiting for everyone else joined Sarah's laughter. Lynn joined the fun, "Yup, she'll have more than a few tongues hanging out tonight wearing that dress!" I giggled even as I blushed bright red. A few minutes later the eight of us trooped out the door and took the short walk to a nice restaurant just down the street. The talk at the table was just as lively and confusing as each girl seemed to carry on at least two conversations at once. I managed to join in some, but was mostly content to listen and pick up what I could of how these friends of Sarah's had been living the last few years. Mostly, it was variations on Sarah's college life, with a lot of talk devoted to men and sex. I felt a warm glow as Sarah described her fiancée and how much she loved him. Er, me. Whatever! After eating, we adjourned to the bar area and commandeered a large table near the dance floor. Everyone called out drink orders to the passing waitress, and I settled for a margarita. Soon, guys were coming over asking various girls to dance, and Marci pulled me out on the floor to dance with her. I looked back at Sarah grinning at me, and tried to blend in with the gyrating bodies and stay somewhat near Marci. By the time we got back to the table, Sarah and several of the others were on the floor, some dancing with another girl, some with guys. And so it went, normally with all but two or three of the girls out on the floor at one time. After a while, four of us were sitting together when four guys came over. They seemed to kind of pair up with a girl, and started talking. I was a little shy at first, but it got easier after a bit. I was still thankful when Sarah came back to slide in beside me. The guys were staying on a rented houseboat for the week, and invited us for a cruise tomorrow. Thankfully Julie demurred, saying there were eight of us girls and we wanted to spend time together. One guy stood up and looked around the room, then said "Hold on a sec," before he headed out onto the dance floor. He returned in a minute with Kelly and her current dance partner. "This is Barry, one of my buddies. He and a few other guys also have a houseboat. How about we cruise together tomorrow? We can find a nice spot to drop anchor, tie the boats together, and spend some time as a big group?" Barry waved at a few other guys and soon we had three more clustered around our table. There was a flurry of conversation amongst the assembled girls as they looked over the merchandise. I wisely stayed out of it, even though I wanted them to say no. But this was their holiday, and I was along for the ride. It was finally decided we would give it a try. Apparently the girls were satisfied with what they saw. Arrangements were made, and couples drifted off to the dance floor or to other tables. I ended up dancing a few dances with Rick, one of Barry's friends, when he asked me and Sarah all but pushed me out on the floor. Then one from the other crew, John, got me to dance too. We finally got back to the rooms after one a.m., with plans to meet the guys at ten. I fell in bed exhausted, and barely remembered Sarah snuggling against me as I drifted off to sleep. The next morning Sarah got me into a bathing suit. She pushed for a bikini like she was wearing, but I insisted on the one piece. Sarah took one of my bikinis in her bag, saying I might want to change when I saw everyone else later. Over that we wore short shorts. Sarah had a short tank top, and I had a longer top that hid my swimsuit. We all went to the coffee shop in the motel for breakfast, then back to the room for beach bags. We were only about ten minutes late meeting the guys, but I gathered from the girl talk that it was more or less the normal strategy. Barry led us out the docks, directing four of the girls onto John's boat, and then a little farther the rest of us climbed aboard another. "Ok, everyone, that's Will over there, Ted, Rick, and in case you didn't get it last night, my name's Barry. John, Will, Ken, and Steve are over on the other boat. Guys, this is Kelly, uh…" Kelly chimed in, "Sarah, the short one's Marci…" Marci stuck her tongue out at Kelly, then giggled, "and finally, Marissa. Julie, Sherry, Lynn and Sue are on the other boat." There were coolers of beer and soda available, and Ted whipped up some margaritas in the blender in the galley. After everyone had their drink of choice and a life preserver handy, we set sail. As we cruised, the guys sort of paired off with us girls, and I ended up talking to Rick relaxing on one of the couches in the cabin. I saw Kelly stretched out on the deck near the bow soaking up some sun in just her tiny bikini with Ted lounging nearby. Barry was piloting, with Marci watching. She eventually slipped between his arms to handle the wheel, while Barry handled her. That left Sarah sitting at a table just outside the cabin with Don. About an hour later, everyone had stripped down to swimsuits to try to keep cool. It may have been early April, but the weather on the lake was saying summer. We found a secluded cove that looked like a likely spot and Ted dropped the anchor over the side, waiting till it hit bottom before tying off the rope. John brought his boat alongside and lashed it to ours. People started drifting back and forth between the boats, and drank, swam, sunbathed or chatted as it suited them. Sarah and I helped Barry set out snacks, and then drifted out to a clear spot of deck to stretch out in the sun for a while. Sarah pulled out her suntan lotion and immediately there were a couple of guys there offering to help us out, so we relaxed on our tummies while they worked the lotion onto us with strong hands. I heard Sarah giggle and looked over to see that Will had untied her bikini top to get better access to her back, making me glad I'd stuck with the one-piece. He worked over her legs and back, working down her sides until he was massaging the sides of her breasts. Don told me to turn over, and started working up the front of my legs. By this time, we had been through several drinks, and everyone was getting relaxed. I saw Sherry sitting in someone's lap, and watched while he undid the strings of her bikini top, letting it fall. She shrieked and launched herself off his lap and into the water, still topless, laughing as she went. A moment later, I heard "Tut, tut!" and looked over to see Sarah on her back, still sans bikini top, pushing Will's hands away from her breasts, but he just moved lower to continue applying the lotion. I gazed at her beautiful body, clad only in the skimpy bikini bottom, and wished I was some place alone with her. I looked up at Don, who had finished coating (and caressing) every exposed inch of me. "Let's go get another drink," I suggested. He helped me to my feet and guided me into the cabin with his arm around my waist. As we sipped the cool beverage, I noticed that Steve sat leaning against the cabin of the other boat, with Lynn seated between his legs. Her bikini top was also absent, and Steve rested his hands on her firm tummy, stroking lightly, straying occasionally up to caress the lower curves of her breasts. A couple of the guys set out some food for lunch, and people drifted in to eat, and then back out to play or laze in the sun. Mostly, everyone paired off girl with boy, but partners would shift occasionally. As the afternoon passed, the pairings seemed to stabilize, as the guys and the girls found someone they wanted to spend time with. Since I didn't really care, I took whoever was left over when things settled, which happened to be Ted. I saw Sarah sitting with John, talking and occasionally laughing. Ted and I talked, sipped drinks, swam, with me managing to keep things light, mostly hands off in a friendly sort of way. But he turned out to be good company, and not offended by my desire to keep my distance. Late in the afternoon, I thought I heard giggling and maybe a few moans from the cabin below, and glanced around, curious about whom was missing. I didn't see either Kelly or Sue, but couldn't really tell which of the guys might be out of sight. By this time, only Lynn still had her bikini top on. As the sun slipped down toward the lakeside hills, we pulled up anchor and started back to Havasu. I looked around and realized that Sarah was on the other boat with John, so, for lack of better company I stayed with Ted. We settled down on the foredeck where we could watch the scenery, and Ted wrapped his arms around me as the air was cooling rapidly with the setting sun. We sat that way and talked, laughing about some of Ted's escapades in college, and some of the stunts he and his friends had pulled. It was almost dark by the time we got back to the dock, and everyone had pulled their clothes back on over their suits. I was a bit alarmed to see that Sarah's boat wasn't behind us. When I asked Barry about it, he said they'd stopped at an inlet to take a look at a natural bridge, and would be along in a while. Rick spoke up, "Hey, guys, how about we take these lovely ladies out for dinner?" This was met with agreement from Barry, Ted and Don. Kelly looked around and saw Marci and Julie nodding, so said, "Sure!" "Um, I'd rather stick around till the other boat gets back." I wasn't sure about going out without Sarah along, not to mention not wanting to leave her alone with John. "Aw, come on, come with us!" Marci begged. "Sarah's a big girl. She can take care of herself. Besides, you need to learn to live a little, instead of sticking so close to her all the time!" She grabbed one of my hands, Kelly took the other, and they dragged me off the boat and up the dock, with Julie and the boys trailing behind. Well, what could I do? I'd promised Sarah I wouldn't be a wet blanket, so I guess we were going to dinner! We ate tacos at a little place not too far from the docks, and then wandered through the shopping district, looking into all the tourist traps selling their cheap souvenirs. Ted held my hand as we walked, and I didn't bother pulling away. We stopped in a noisy bar that was packed with college kids, with music blasting so loud it was impossible to talk. The only table available seated four, so the other girls volunteered to sit on the guys' laps, which is how I found myself sitting on Ted, with his arms wrapped around me. Since his arms were occupied, he decided I needed to hold his glass for him to drink his beer, and we laughed as I sloshed it down his chin. After his second beer, he started nuzzling my neck between swallows, and the drinks made me mellow enough I didn't try to stop him. After all, I had to keep up my role, didn't I? He challenged me to a game of darts, which sounded like more fun than sitting in his lap, so I agreed. He wasn't too good, but then neither was I, and we laughed a lot at our poor shots, and the darts that bounced off the board. When we got back to the table, only Julie and Barry remained. Julie explained that Marci had dragged Rick off somewhere, and not long after, Don had done the same to Kelly. Even with the extra chairs, Julie was still in Barry's lap, and Barry was getting pretty amorous. Just after we'd returned, he suggested they find some place a little more private, and led Julie out the door. I looked at Ted, and he looked at me. He broke out into laughter, and I soon joined him. After another round, we left the bar as well, and wandered through the busy streets. There were sounds of parties everywhere, and the occasional sounds of passion from dark alcoves. Ted again held my hand as we walked, and eventually pulled me into some shadows, facing me toward him and putting his arms around me. "Marissa, it's been great spending time with you today." He paused as if unsure of himself. "Look, I know you are somewhat shy and reserved. You were restrained today while the other girls were being kind of wild. I like that." He cleared his throat. "I like you, and I'd really like to kiss you now." He looked at me with a worried puppy kind of look, and I tried to think how to handle this. He must have taken my pause as agreement, because he quickly moved in and gave me a little kiss on the lips. More of a peck really. I looked up at him in surprise, and then got a wicked little smirk on my face. "You call that a kiss?" I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him down to demonstrate a real kiss. He must have known more than his first peck indicated, because after a few seconds, when I was ready to end the kiss I'd started, he took over, and turned up the heat. Soon, his tongue was probing my lips, and I felt them part to allow him entry. Many long seconds later, when he finally broke the kiss, I was breathless, and hanging on to him for dear life. I looked at him dreamily. "Now that's a kiss!" We started in the direction of my motel, but it took a long time to get there, because every time we passed a shadowed nook, he pulled me into it and demonstrated just how much he knew about kissing. I was having trouble remembering I was a guy. His kisses were definitely having an effect on me, and I was confused. When we got back to my room, he pulled me to him and kissed me again till my legs went weak. I finally pulled away and said, "I think I should go in now." He took my key and opened the door, calling out "Anyone here?" When there was no answer, he nuzzled my neck and whispered, "Maybe you'd like a little company till someone else gets back?" Ted scooped me up in his arms and headed toward the wrong bedroom door. I shook my head and said "Other one." So he corrected his course and was soon laying me gently on the bed. He settled down beside me and got back to the business of kissing me some more. His hands roamed over my back and sides, and I ran my fingers through his hair. He kissed down the side of my neck and across my throat. I was panting by this time, and rubbed my cheek against his, feeling the slight stubble of his beard. My mind knew I had to stop this, but I wasn't sure I wanted to. The sound of the outer door opening finally brought me back to my senses, and I scrambled off the bed. I raked my fingers through my hair to straighten it, and tugged my top into place before heading out to the sitting room with Ted close behind. We found Sherry and Will locked in a passionate embrace until Sherry caught sight of us. "Oh! Hi! I didn't know anyone was here." "Um, yeah. Ted was just leaving. Sorry to interrupt." My face must have been bright enough to light up the room. I dragged Ted out the door out of sight of the other two, and he pulled me to him for another heated kiss. When it ended I panted, "Night, Ted. I had a great time." "Me too! Can I see you tomorrow?" "I really don't know what the other girls have planned. I'd like to, but we'll have to play it by ear." He sighed and said "Ok." One more lingering kiss, then I watched his back as he moved down the hall and out of sight. Back inside, the sitting room was empty, and I heard the murmur of voices from the other bedroom of our suite. The room Sherry shared with Lynn. I used the bathroom for the now familiar nighttime ritual and retreated to bed. My mind was a jumble of thoughts and feelings as I tried to figure out what had happened to me tonight. I hadn't straightened anything out by the time I dropped off. I felt arms wrap around me, and pried my eyes open to look at the lighted clock. 2:30 a.m.! I felt a kiss on the back of my neck, and hands stroking my tummy. For a confused moment I thought it was Ted, and almost said his name. "Jeff, you awake?" It was Sarah! I squirmed around to face her, and she attacked my mouth voraciously. "God, I need you right now! Make love to me, Jeff. Save me!" She pulled down the covers and worked feverishly to get the silicon panty off me, nearly too impatient for the solvent to do its job. When she finally got it free, she engulfed me in her mouth and worked at me feverishly till I was stiff and ready, then climbed on top and impaled her sopping slit on my manhood. It was a wild ride that night, with her climaxing three times before I knew what was happening, then a fourth just as I exploded. She collapsed beside me, and lay inert as I stroked her hair and back. "God, I needed that." She raised her head to kiss me and whispered, "I love you, Jeff." "What is it, Sarah? What happened?" She looked away. "I almost gave in to him, Jeff. I was so hot, and he was there, and I almost didn't get back here to you in time." She sobbed. "I'm sorry, honey. I love you, but I almost gave in to someone else." She hugged me fiercely. "Shhh. It's ok, Sarah. It's ok. I know, sweetheart, I know you love me. And I know its hard. But we love each other, and that's what's really important." I continued to stroke her hair and murmur in her ear until her breathing became regular and she drifted into sleep. I lay holding her and grappled with even more confusion now that this added complication had burst upon me. I was having severe doubts about the rest of this week. I wasn't sure if I would end up losing Sarah, or if she would end up losing me. Neither alternative was one I wanted to contemplate. I slept restlessly the rest of the night, and rose at the first sound of activity beyond our door. I pulled on my robe and stepped into my heeled slippers, tucked the fake vagina and adhesive into my makeup case, and retreated to the bathroom. I showered without the appliance for a change, and then cleaned it meticulously. I used a blow drier on my hair and the appliance, and then carefully glued it back in place. I passed Lynn waiting at the door as I went back to my room. Dressed in clean shorts and a crop top, I took one of Sarah's romance novels and settled on the couch in the front room. Over the next hour, various sleepy faces passed through, and eventually everyone collected in our sitting room before heading down to breakfast. The scene at the table was becoming familiar, and words flew every which way among the various girls. I was now even able to almost hold my own in the babble, and answered questions about last night as I ordered my food, and complimented Kelly on her outfit today. I noticed Sarah was subdued, in a kind of role reversal from the other night, when I was the quiet one. She kept flicking worried glances toward me, so I squeezed her hand in reassurance and smiled my love at her. I found out from the conversation that the girls had arranged for us to go out with the same guys on their boats again today. That sounded as good as anything to me. Back in our room, I replaced my bra and panties with one of the bikinis that Sarah had insisted I bring. Sarah was preoccupied and didn't comment as I half expected her to. "Rissa, are we ok?" she said hesitantly. I studied her worried face, and then pulled her down to sit beside me on the bed. "Sarah, I love you. That hasn't changed. As far as I'm concerned, we are just fine. But are you ok?" She blew out the breath she'd been holding. "Yeah. I think so. I was just afraid I'd blown it last night. Afraid I'd hurt you, maybe even lost you." I snorted. "You can't get rid of me that easily, girlfriend! Come on, cheer up. This is spring break! We're here to have a great time, so let's go do just that!" She looked relieved, and finished pulling her stuff together for the day. We met the guys at the docks this time, since we knew where the boats were. Everyone seemed set on the same pairings as yesterday, so I ended up with Ted, despite my doubts, and Sarah was on the other boat with John. As I left her there to go on to Barry's boat, she gave me a worried look, and I flashed her a thumbs up sign and a smile. She looked relieved, and I was glad. Not too far out into the lake, I noticed the other boats course diverging from ours, and asked Barry. "Oh, those guys wanted to find a quiet swimming spot again, but we thought we'd cruise the shoreline and check out some of the scenery. It's really beautiful around here. We might hook up with them later, though. I grabbed a soft drink, determined to keep the alcohol consumption down today in hopes of keeping my head clearer. Up on the forward deck I found a place to sit quietly and watch the hills and inlets drift past. As the heat increased, I stripped down to the bikini, and almost immediately Ted appeared with an offer to apply some suntan lotion. Laying face down on a towel, I drowsed as his strong hands kneaded the lotion into the skin of my legs, working his way up, over my bottom. I had a twinge of worry that he would detect the silicon curves, but he didn't. As he worked up my back, I felt the string of my top loosen and drop to the sides, and grinned just a little. When Ted told me to turn over, I reached behind and retied the string first. I knew he wanted me to leave it off, but I wasn't ready for that yet. Yet? Why would I even think I would ever be ready for that? Certainly not till I had my own boobs instead of these plastic lumps. Hunh? What the hell was I thinking? The sun must be getting to me! I closed my eyes and tried to clear those really strange thoughts from my brain as my body soaked up the feeling of Ted massaging his way up my legs, then over my tummy, around the imitation mammeries, to finish with my neck and arms. I let out a sigh when he stopped, and wondered why I craved the contact so much. Ted sat with me for a while, and we enjoyed the scenery together, sitting silent, or talking quietly as the mood struck us. He helped himself to several kisses during the morning. At lunch time, we anchored the boat while we ate, and then played in the water for a while before continuing our sightseeing cruise. Somehow, Ted talked me into going down into the cabin for a while, and we ended up on one of the bunks, touching, kissing, hugging. Before Ted could get too familiar, I called a halt, and gave him one more sensual kiss before retreating on deck. It was awhile before Ted came back up, and I smirked as I thought about how he'd spent that time. We never did meet up with the other boat that day, and when we returned to the dock, it was already tied in its slip and deserted. Consensus was to go for a nicer dinner tonight, so we girls adjourned to the motel to clean up while the boys used their facilities on the boat. They agreed to pick us up in two hours. The other girls never showed while we were getting ready, so a little apprehensively, I followed the other three out to meet the men. I wore my blue, Asian-themed dress with the dragon pattern. It ended well above my knees. White sandals with 4" heels and nude pantyhose completed the outfit. I wore large hoop earrings in my pierced ears and several bracelets on my left wrist. I tried to convince myself that I was just being conscientious by so carefully applying my makeup, but I was afraid it was really an attempt to impress Ted. I dabbed some scent in a few of the places Ted might nuzzle tonight, and checked myself out in the mirror. I decided I was ok. Maybe even better than ok! I already mentioned that Sarah's friends are all foxy ladies, and the three with me tonight sure lived up to that! They were all looking hot! When we met the guys in the lobby, again about ten minutes late, they were looking really sharp as well. Barry had made reservations at a nice seafood restaurant that was an easy walk for us. I slipped my hand through Ted's arm as we walked along, leaning into him just to feel his closeness. He squeezed my hand against his arm and smiled down at me. Dinner was excellent. One part of this girl thing was not bad! The part where the guy takes you to dinner, and pays for everything. The dance floor was quieter than the first night, and they played slow dances more often. Ted held me close as we danced, and I leaned my head against his shoulder, swaying with the music and following his lead. After several drinks and much dancing, the couples started drifting their separate ways as they had last night. We found our way back to my room, and were glad to find it deserted again. I was careful not to let Ted get too carried away as he groped and stroked, but found it hard to tame the kisses we shared. After a while I managed to calm things down, and we just cuddled in the bed. I woke sometime later still cradled in Ted's arms with light spilling through the open door past a shadowed figure. "Oh, uh, Sarah, is that you?" I shook Ted frantically and almost pushed him off the edge of the bed. He finally roused and I practically dragged him out into the hall where I said goodnight with a quick peck on the cheek and fled to the bathroom to get cleaned up for the night. I nervously slid into bed next to Sarah in the darkened room. I hoped she was asleep, but as soon as I was under the covers she pulled me against her and kissed me hungrily. When we separated, she asked, "You ok?" "I don’t know!" I moaned. "I don’t know what is happening to me!" "Tell me," she said gently. "I seem to be losing myself in this person we've created. Every day I seem to slip deeper into Marissa, and come closer to burying Jeff. I'm scared, Sarah. I find myself wanting Ted. Wanting to make love to him, I think. But that is just crazy! Maybe I should get out, just be Jeff again, put this confusion behind me." "Shhh, shhh, shhh. Calm down, baby. It's ok. This is just a role you're playing for me, and you are putting yourself into it the best you can. I don’t think there's anything to worry about. We'll be fine when we get back to normal. In the mean time, you promised me you'd do this to the best of your ability. I don't want you to spoil this week for my friends, ok? Just think of making this the best you can for them." "But are you sure it will be ok?" "I'm sure that I love you. And I'm sure that you love me. And those are the most important things, right?" I nodded. "So do this for me, ok? Just throw yourself into this whole-heartedly for the few days we have left. Can you do that for me, honey?" I took a deep breath. "Ok." Then I remembered last night, and Sarah's turmoil. "But how are you doing tonight? Are you holding up ok with John?" "Yeah, much better tonight. I think he's gotten it through his head that I won't end up in bed with him, and that has eased the pressure a lot. But I'm still pretty hot. Think you can help out again?" Getting me out of my silicon prison wasn't the mad rush it was last night, but we didn't waste any time either. When I finally drifted off to sleep I was plagued by strange dreams. I dreamed of making out on the bed with Ted, as we had tonight, but it was different. When he stroked my breasts, my nipples hardened and sent electric pulses to my groin, and when he had me so hot I couldn't take it, he plunged his manhood deep within me, making me shudder and gasp with ecstasy. The dream feeling lingered as I awoke the next morning, and I felt a tinge of disappointment when I realized I was just me, Jeff, playing a girl. That passed quickly as I became aware of Sarah still asleep beside me, and the feel of her satin smooth skin under my fingertips soon aroused a definitely unfeminine response from my body. She stretched and grinned broadly, murmuring "Morning, lover." "Hi, yourself!" She twisted around to see the clock. "I suppose we don’t have time to fool around this morning." She planted a longing kiss on my lips and slid out of bed, stretching in all her naked glory. "See you after my shower!" She pulled on an oversized T-shirt that barely covered her tush, and wandered to the outer room on her way to the bathroom. I lingered in bed a few minutes longer, and then gathered my bath things, adhesive, and camouflage, slipped into my robe, then followed Sarah. She was just drying herself off as I let myself in. I hung my robe on the door, then cleaned up myself and the appliance, and got Sarah to help me attach it. I showered quickly, but by the time I got back to the bedroom, Sarah was almost dressed in the uniform of the day, tight shorts and skimpy halter top over one of her bikinis. I felt like doing something a little different, maybe impress Ted just a bit, so did my makeup quickly, brushed out my hair, then after Sarah left, slipped into my own bikini. I covered it with a red flared mid-thigh skirt, and a white blouse that was so sheer it did little to hide my bikini top. Instead of the flats I'd worn the past couple days, I stepped into some mid-heeled white sandals. I gathered what I'd need later into my beach bag before going to join the girls waiting to go to breakfast. "Oo-la-la! Somebody is trying to catch someone's eye!" Kelly teased. I blushed, but didn't try to deny it, instead settling onto the couch beside Sarah, shifting her arm to encircle my shoulders. Breakfast was the familiar jumble of conversation, mixing gossip about mutual friends, observations about guys walking past, clothes, who scored with their guy the day before, hair, periods, and PMS. I let it wash over me, soaking up much more than I ever thought I could, and giving back as good as anyone. Sarah had a bright smile for me whenever she caught my eye. The walk to the dock was just a continuation of the babble, as we moved around in a complex dance to talk with the right girl at the right time. The guys were loading supplies on the boats as we approached, and I hardly noticed when Sarah and the others peeled off at John's boat. My eyes were glued to the small group ahead who hadn't noticed us coming yet. Ted was on the dock, intent on what he was doing, but looked up as Rick said something, and then looked our way. His face lit up in a huge smile when our eyes met. I'm not quite sure what was running through my mind right then, but I all but ran to him, flinging myself into his embrace, locking lips with him. I heard the girls giggling behind me, but I didn't care. I was where I wanted to be right at that moment. Sarah had said to throw myself into this character, and I intended to do just that! I found I couldn't admit, even to myself that I was enjoying this way too much. Ted pulled back to look at me. "Wow! You look great! What's the occasion?" "Thanks. I just wanted to see if I could attract any handsome males today, for a change!" I quipped at him. He seemed to think about it for a moment, and then looked around. "It doesn't seem to be working! Guess you'll just have to settle for me." Don shouted from the boat, "Hey, come on, guys. We'll lose the other boat if you don't step on it!" I looked around and realized everyone else was already aboard, and scrambled on deck myself. Both boats cruised together again today, and anchored off a sandy beach. The guys used some inner tubes to float the coolers and beach bags to shore, while us girls swam around and splashed one another. We lazed around the beach, sipping cool drinks and snacking, sunbathing, talking, spending time together. Each guy stayed pretty close to the girl he'd staked out, almost like claiming their territory. From time to time, one of the swimming couples would disappear for an interval into one of the moored houseboats, and then would rejoin the mix, exchanging shy glances with each other. I noticed a time or two Sarah treading water by a boat, while John tried to urge her to join him on the deck, but she would splash him playfully and swim away. I'd notice her glancing my way with longing in her eyes, but she'd join Ted and me on the beach, soaking up sun until John rejoined her. I managed to avoid the situation with Ted, partly because he knew I was reticent, and partly because I tried to avoid swimming near the boats. That is not to say we didn't share a kiss or three mixed in with occasional light petting, but we never got carried away. Even without my secret, it seemed almost better that way. Back in town that evening, the whole batch of us piled into a couple taxis and went to a Greek place a little out of town. We sat around a big table drinking ouzo, eating stuffed grape leaves and other exotic delicacies, watching belly dancers and dancing some of the traditional dances. None of us had returned to the motel to change, and I felt a little self-conscious in my see-through blouse until I'd had a couple thimblefuls of ouzo. Then I loosened up a little. One of the belly dancers tried to get the girls up dancing, and Ted, Rick, and Don all but pushed their dates out onto the floor. So I found myself more than a bit tipsy, in front of the whole restaurant with Marci and Kelly, trying to imitate the moves the dancer was throwing at us, and probably making a complete fool of myself. But I didn't care by that point. It was fun, and the whole group was giggling or laughing uncontrollably. Back in town, the couples split off for some private time, and Ted took my hand and led me through the street, walking off my inebriation. I was pretty sloshed when we started out, and frequently found excuses to pull him into an embrace and play tonsil hockey. After a while, with a couple of good stiff coffees I was considerably more sober, but still managed to get my share of kisses. We arrived back at the motel after one a.m., and I spent awhile saying good night outside the door before pushing Ted toward the elevator and slipping into the room. I found Sarah and John in each other's arms on the couch, still clothed, but each discovering how to arouse the other in many ways. As far as I know, neither noticed me as I slipped past into the bathroom to clean up, then on into the bedroom. I pulled on a light nightshirt that would protect my modesty, not being sure who might wander in during the night. I came awake probably an hour later when Sarah slid between the sheets. "Hi," I mumbled. She didn't bother answering, just pulled me into a passionate embrace and proceeded to have her way with me. When we lay panting and spent, I asked, "Better?" She drew in another couple of breaths, then said, "Yeah, thanks." After a short silence, "That was so hard. I wasn't sure I could hold out till I got in here to you!" I said quietly, "You really like him, don't you?" She stared into my eyes for a few moments, and then said, "Yeah. He's pretty nice." "I'm holding you back, aren't I? You want him." "No!" But it was too fast, and she knew it. She whispered weakly "I'm sorry, Jeff, but yeah. Yes, I do." "Marissa." "Hunh?" "Remember, I'm your girlfriend Marissa this week. Jeff is gone, for the moment." "Meaning?" "Have fun, Sarah. You deserve it. Next week, Sarah and Jeff will be the stodgy engaged couple again, but for this week, don't worry about Jeff." She pulled our bodies tight together and nuzzled my cheek, whispering in my ear, "Are you sure?" I held her back so I could look her in the eye, enforcing my words with the feelings she could read in me. "Yeah, I really am sure." After she showered me with kisses, she whispered "Thank-you." The next day, Ted and I skipped the outing on the lake and found things to amuse us around town, including some time together in my room. We played in an arcade for a while, drank a few beers, and had fish tacos for lunch. I pulled Ted into a beachwear shop and browsed the wares just to see how the girls dared to dress in public these days. I thought my bikinis were revealing, but one of mine would have made four or five of these! Ted teased me about them, and worked on me till I agreed to let him buy one for me. But I made sure he knew it was for a private modeling session only! There's no way I'd let anyone else see me in that thing. Ted was anxious, and all but dragged me back to the room, and I laughingly followed along. In the room, I closed and locked the door, leaving the light off so the room was dim. "Ok, first the ground rules. I will model that piece of string for you, but no touching! It would be too easy to get carried away with essentially nothing between us." "Aw, Rissa!" "Promise me, or it's no deal." He gave a theatrical sigh. "O. K.", and slumped down to sit on the bed, but broke into a chuckle and his hang-dog look became a big grin. "Oh, you!" I turned my back to him and moved as far away as I could, all of about four feet in that little room. I pulled my tank top over my head and dropped it, then unfastened my bra, letting it drop to the floor. Picking up the pieces of the new suit, I studied awhile to figure out which was top and bottom, and how it went on. I finally wrapped one of the pieces around me, and Ted hopped up to tie it in back for me, before falling back onto the bed. I tugged it this way and that, my back still toward him, but couldn't make it cover any more skin. My imitation areoles were threatening to peek out from behind the minuscule scraps of cloth that the tiny strings tried to hold in place. Suddenly, I wasn't so sure about this. I hoped all my glued edges were properly and smoothly attached and concealed! Next I kicked off my sandals, dropped my shorts, and peeled down my satin panties. Glancing over my shoulder to make sure Ted was behaving, it was almost as if his tongue were hanging out! I hurriedly pulled the suit bottom up my legs and settled it in place. The bit of material barely covered the fake patch of pubic hair and molded itself to my man-made anatomy, so the contours of my ersatz slit were obvious. Thank heaven the silicone panty was so life-like. I took a deep calming breath, then another, and finally turned meekly around, my cheeks already starting to burn. Ted sucked in one noisy breath and let it out in a quiet whistle. "What can I say? Wow! You are one hot lady, you know that?" "Um, thanks. You think so?" "Oh, yeah!" He started to rise, but dropped back when I tut tutted. I walked by the bed, turning and posing, putting on what show I could in the limited space, while Ted made appreciative noises. Finally I leaned over and pecked him on the lips, intercepting his hands before they reached my bare skin. Backing away, still facing him, I reached behind and untied the top, which promptly fell away. Pushing the bottom down, I was completely naked before him. I let him look for a few moments, then scrambled back into my clothes and tackled him on the bed. That whole exercise had made me so hot! I took it all out on him, while managing to keep all my clothes on and his hands off anything that might give me away. I found myself longing for real equipment. We worked out the passion after a while, each being aware we couldn't go where we wanted to, and eventually calmed down, though with great difficulty. Finally we left the room, and wandered down to the dock to wait for the boats to return. After dinner, we all went to a bar that had a live band. It was crowded, so we paired off and hit the dance floor, keeping our eyes open for a table freeing up. Eventually we got one, though it was not big enough for all of us. We solved that by keeping several couples out on the dance floor all the time, then trading places to sit, rest, and sip drinks. The band was pretty good, and mixed fast and slow tunes. I found I liked the slow dances better now, so different from that first night I'd danced. Slow dances gave me the chance to move in close to Ted, and rub against him, or rest my head on his broad chest, even occasionally stealing a kiss. I noticed Sarah was getting pretty worked up dancing with John. They were one of the first couples to drift away for the night. I talked Ted into getting me back a little early, as I hadn't been getting much rest so far this week. I made it up to him a little with the way I bid him goodnight. I got all cleaned up and crawled into bed, but sleep came slowly as my mind grappled with thoughts of Ted, and of Sarah and John. When I did finally sleep, I had vivid dreams, disturbing dreams. Sarah was a bride, with Jeff giving her away to John, who was the groom. In another, Ted held my hand as I gave birth to our child. Yet another featured Sarah and I naked on a big bed, holding hands and kissing while Ted entered my vagina, and John shot his load into Sarah. I might as well have not have made it to bed early as I was exhausted when I pried my eyes open. It was a long painful climb to pull myself up out of slumber, with strange thoughts wafting through my brain, and fleeing before I could examine them. When I had roused enough, I became aware that Sarah was not in bed with me. When the cobwebs cleared a bit more, I realized that her side of the bed was undisturbed. She had not been back at all last night. I had just made it upright when Sarah strolled in, looking a tad guilty when she saw me. She was still wearing the clothes she'd had on last night, and her makeup was all but gone. She gave me a sheepish grin. "Hi." "Morning," I responded, then couldn't help smiling, "Have a good night?" That broke the ice, and she showed a real smile then, and gave me a sisterly hug. "Yeah, it was all right. Really good, in fact. You?" I pecked her cheek. "That's good. I sent Ted home early so I could get a little rest last night. Someone's been keeping me up half the night recently." Sarah giggled. I headed off to the bathroom, for once, not having the prospect of reattaching the faux vagina. Sarah entered almost immediately, and we showered together, soaping each other and teasing the sensitive spots. Back in the room, we dressed together, and did our makeup and hair. Before we left the room, Sarah pulled me to her, kissing me deeply. "Thank-you, sweetheart. I love you!" "Me too!" And I returned the kiss with interest. The guys had made arrangements for a ski boat for the day. Knowing that, I wore my one piece suit again. We cruised the houseboats out near the shore by an open section of the lake, anchored them and tied them together. Then we took turns water skiing or riding in the ski boat, while others were on the houseboats partying and lazing about. I thought it worked out well to have worn my one-piece, as some of the other girls lost their tops while skiing. But then, all of them but me spent at least part of the day topless anyway. It seemed that occupancy was higher in the sleeping quarters on the boats, and I noticed times that each girl was out of sight for a while. Sarah was taking full advantage of my offer, it seemed. That evening, Ted disappeared without a word sometime after dinner. No one seemed to know where he was. I tagged along with the rest of the group for a while, but felt like the odd man out, even though the other guys danced with me and bought my drinks. I headed back to the room early, determined to catch up on my sleep. I know Sarah didn't disturb it, as she didn't come back again that night. Next morning, Ted was no where in sight as the boats were readied for the day. I slipped away by myself when no one was looking, and moped around town for a while, then holed up in my room the rest of the day, wallowing in self pity and wondering what I'd done to chase Ted away. Well, not really wondering. I knew. I just didn't want to admit it. All the other guys were getting it from their girls, and Ted had finally reached his limit for putting up with me. He'd moved on to greener pastures. That evening I forced myself to go out. I had a burger in a bar, had a few drinks, and danced with a few guys. I made sure to buy my own drinks so as not to build up any extra expectations. I had fun, and the guys were mostly nice, but I was uncomfortable on my own, and besides, it wasn't the same without that someone to spend the time with. I headed back to the motel about nine, and found Ted sitting on the floor with his back against our door, head resting on his knees. I stopped down the hall, not sure I wanted to talk to him, but he must have heard me because his head came up. I saw a relieved smile spread over his face, and he got up and hurried toward me. I just stood and waited. "Marissa, I'm glad you’re here. Can we talk?" "Ok." I said woodenly, not moving. "Um, inside?" I moved to the door, unlocked it, and closed it behind him, then stood waiting near the couch. Ted didn't seem to know how to react to my lack of response, because he stood looking at me, wringing his hands for a few moments. "Marissa, I'm sorry. What I did was mean and cruel, and so pointless!" He stopped to judge my reaction, which was a blank stare. He looked down. "I was so frustrated at your refusal to get close to me. I mean, I respect you for it, and I respect your right to make that decision, but it was so frustrating to watch the other guys, and to be so close to you, and to be unable to do any of the things I wanted to." He looked up at me again. "I understand." Again spoken with little inflection. "So, anyway, it just kind of boiled over last night, and I skipped out. I found a bar, and hooked up with a pretty little girl. She seemed to like me, and was willing to give me what I wanted. We spent the night together at her place, and much of the morning." It was like he was waiting for me to say something, do something. But I could find nothing to say, so I just stared at him. "You know, I found out something really important though Marissa. I found out I'd rather spend the time with you and skip the sex, rather than have all the sex I wanted with some other girl." I felt the ice around my heart melting, but I wasn't ready to forgive just yet. I just continued to look at him. He moved carefully up to me and took both my hands in his, looking deep into my eyes. "Marissa, I want to spend the time with you, no pressure, and no demands. I want a second chance. Can you forgive me?" He pulled my hands up and gently kissed the back of each, maintaining eye contact the whole time. Finally a sob bubbled up my throat and burst between us. I threw my arms around his neck and buried my face against his muscled chest, clinging for dear life. He held me for a while, and then lifted my chin so he could kiss me gently, lovingly, longingly on the mouth. I wasn't expecting Sarah back again tonight, so I led Ted into the bedroom, closed the door, and pulled him into my arms. Several long kisses later I stepped back and kept eye contact with him as I shrugged out of my clothes, one piece after another, till I stood nude in front of him. I turned to the dresser and pulled out a long nightgown, lifting it over my head and letting it drift down my body. Ted watched, mesmerized. I moved slowly up to him and started pulling his T-shirt up, and finally he moved to raise his arms to help. Tossing that in the corner, I captured his gaze again, and started working on the button on his jeans, opening the zipper, and sliding them down, sinking slowly to my knees as I moved them down his legs. On my knees now, I finally looked down, and untied his shoes, helping him slip them off while stepping out of his pant legs, and sliding the socks off his feet. I then rose just as slowly as I'd slid down, running my hands over his hairy legs till I hit his briefs. Glancing down I noticed the bulge in the front growing, then looked up with a mischievous grin and said, "Now, now, none of that! Rules haven't changed. Be a good little boy or I'll have to send you home!" Then I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled his lips down to mine. When I finally broke the kiss I pulled him to the bed, slipping under the covers and holding them back for him to join me. "Rissa, are you sure about this? I'm not sure I can hold back being in bed with you." "You can do it, honey. I have faith." That was all it took, and he was down beside me, pulling me into his arms and a deep kiss. I felt his hardness pressed against my tummy, but I was sure he would behave himself. We kissed and touched for a long time before I settled down to sleep, my head resting on his shoulder, and his arm around me. I don't know how Ted did that night, but I slept wonderfully, and woke rested, spooned against his back. It was much easier coming awake this morning, and I just lay there for a while, stroking his back and sides before he finally started stirring. Turning toward me, we shared a deep kiss before I scampered out the door to the bathroom. When I returned, hair still wet from the shower, Ted still laid there, back against the headboard, hands resting easily behind his head, a big smile on his face. I smiled back, then dropped the nightie and started blow drying my hair. I knew I'd never have trusted my disguise enough to do this if the drapes hadn't muted the light considerably. I pulled on a bikini and set about applying makeup. Finally, I pulled a tube top down over my head and stepped into my shorts and sandals, before tossing his clothes at him. "Shows over, lazybones. Time to get a move on!" He dressed quickly and headed off to the bathroom. I followed him as far as the couch, and sank onto the cushion, smiling sheepishly back at Lynn who was sitting there with a knowing grin on her face. "You go, girl!" I laughed easily, and she added, "Really, Rissa, it's great to see you coming out of your shell." I smiled wistfully, "Yeah, well, I'm not there yet." Ted was just coming out of the bathroom as Sarah let herself in the front door. She glanced at him, then looked quizzically at me, then at Lynn, who nodded her head, then back at me. She smiled a little, then wordlessly went to our room, before hurrying into the bathroom to get cleaned up. She came out a few minutes later with one towel wrapped turban style around her head, with another around her body, and rushed to our room to dress. She was the last one out to join the group, and all nine of us headed down to breakfast. Ted got a few sly grins from the other guys as we arrived back at the houseboat. Today was the last full day the guys had the boat. We spend it a little different. Cruising out onto the lake, we headed north, traveling for over an hour before we sighted some other boats ahead. We pulled in slowly to find a dozen or more houseboats lashed together to form a fair sized island. We joined them, and soon people were spilling over from the other boats to ours. Sarah's boat tied up just behind us. We'd spent most of the week paired off as couples, and that seemed to be long enough for most of the girls. I noticed as the bodies moved about that new pairings where happening, girls drifting off with new partners, guys hunting for new game. Several good looking guys hit on me as we partied and swam, but I was content to stick close to Ted mostly. Many of the girls didn't bother keeping their tops on, and the mood was festive, with just a hint of desperation, as everyone would be heading home in the next day or two. The cabins on all the boats seemed to be occupied much of the time, and I once noticed Sarah slipping below with a blond muscled hunk, only to reappear looking somewhat disheveled some time later. Later still she was spending time with John again, and I noticed them sneaking into one of the cabins then, too. The beer and margaritas were constant, and as the day progressed, inhibitions faded. By late afternoon, not a few girls were completely naked, as were some of the guys. At one point, Ted took my hand, and gently led me toward one of the cabins, frequently glancing back at me for any sign of resistance. I came along slowly, but willingly. Once inside, we started kissing passionately. All those naked bodies, and the knowledge of what had transpired below decks all day had worked us both to a high heat, and we needed relief. Ted pulled me down on the bed, and we continued to kiss and caress. I gently deflected any moves to remove my suit, or slide his hands under it, but let him direct my hand down to his crotch. His hand guided mine into a rhythm of massage, which I maintained when his hand returned to seeking my exposed flesh. After a time, my hand, almost of its own accord, slipped under the waistband to cup and caress his manhood directly. A moan escaped his lips, and despite a mournful voice wailing in the back of my mind, I began to experiment, sliding a fingernail smoothly along the length, gently kneading the scrotum and its contents, grasping and sliding my hand along his member. Eventually I scooted down, and nipped at the tiny buds on his hairy chest, licking and sucking lightly on first one, then the other. I kissed my way down the line of denser hair to his navel, inserting my tongue, then blowing on it to chill the damp flesh. I heard a rumbling chuckle from somewhere above, and assumed he liked this. Scooting down farther, I slid both hands under his waistband and tugged his shorts lower, exposing a sizeable tool, stiffening, but not fully erect. Gazing at it as I ran a finger lightly up and down the length, I wondered at what I was doing. Was this too far? Was I too much into this role? Somehow the answers didn’t mean too much to me right then, even though both answers were yes. Shoving thought aside, I leaned forward to lightly kiss the tip. My mind kind of shut down at that point, as I proceeded to give oral pleasure to the man who'd been so good to me this week, and had put up with so much frustration, watching his mates receive satisfaction as he was denied. I put my all into this unfamiliar activity, wanting it to be the best for him. My mind didn't really surface again till the shock of the water as we jumped off the side of the boat, hand in hand. I came up spluttering, and splashed him playfully, before swimming away as fast as I could. He caught me easily, and pulled me under to share an underwater hug and kiss that only ended when we both became desperate to breathe. I surface gasping for air, then laughing gaily. I pushed him away and swam back to the boat. Finding a bit of clear deck space out of the main traffic flow, I settled down to soak up a little more sun before vacation ended. Ted lay down beside me, resting with only our little fingers touching to keep a connection. As it always must, the day ended, and boats cast off, heading back to town. We had the same guys going back, but the female crew complement was different. My three friends had found new companions and another ride back, it seemed. But the guys were not lonely, as the new crew was as affectionate as the past members, and just as uninhibited in the clothing department. As we neared the dock, one of the clearer heads urged the most exposed girl to at least cover up her nether region. Actually, they were all in a state that passes for decent these days before we docked. The guys and gals from our boat found a place to eat, and my practice with Sarah's friends let me fit right in with the girlish chatter and the female ritual of joint potty breaks. They were fun to be with, but I missed Sarah and her friends. These girls were just as guy crazy as the others, and after the after dinner drinks and dance, the couples started drifting off for some privacy. Ted and I lingered over one last drink, chatting amiably, both trying to ignore the fact he was leaving tomorrow. Out of nowhere, he popped a question, "Stay with me tonight?" I looked in his eyes. "Can you keep the same rules?" He sighed, "Yeah." He held my hand. "Rissa, one of these days, I'd really like to break that rule. But not tonight, I promise." I smiled just a bit sadly, "Maybe someday, if the time is ever right." I gulped the last of my margarita for an extra ounce of courage, and then tugged him toward the door. The cabin on the houseboat was even more cramped than the motel bedroom, the bed considerably smaller. At least each guy had his own bunk, so I wouldn’t have to worry about someone else joining us in the sack. Well, not because it was his place to sleep, anyway. "Got anything I can sleep in? My nighties are all back at the room, and I'm not sure I want to tempt you by sleeping in the buff." I gave him a naughty smirk. He rummaged through his stuff to find a clean white T-shirt and some clean boxers. I stripped right there, within easy reach of him, and pulled on the clothes that even clean held his lingering scent, but he behaved. I had to use a piece of string he found to bunch part of the waistband of the boxers together to keep them from falling off. I went to the head and washed off my makeup, finger brushed my teeth, and then rejoined him in the cabin, sliding under the sheet as he got ready. We kissed and petted, him staying within the boundaries I'd set no matter how much I wanted him to be able to cross them. Knowing what would happen was the only thing that kept me from crossing those boundaries myself. Eventually we settled in to go to sleep, again with my head cradled on his shoulder. I woke first in the morning as pale gray light filtered in the tiny window. Our arms and legs were tangled together, with his elbow in a place I would not have allowed had he been awake. A glance at the other bunk confirmed it was vacant, so I decided on a special wakeup for our final day together. Sliding down under the covers till my head was at the right spot, I fished his flaccid member out of his shorts and slipped it into my mouth, marveling at the difference in feel from its stiff and ready state the day before. Slowly it expanded and filled my mouth to its fullest, returning to that satin over steel feel I'd first tasted yesterday. It took Ted a lot longer to awaken than his manhood, but I kept the pace slow and gentle, and before he climaxed, he was fully aware and stroking my hair gently. We kissed some more afterward, and held each other quietly, neither wanting to say goodbye yet. When I started hearing other activity on the boat, I stepped out of my borrowed night clothes and dressed under Ted's watchful gaze. "God, I can't believe how beautiful you are, Marissa. I wish…" "Shhh. I know, but it just can't be, at least not right now." I had to pause to get my voice back under control. "Thanks for making this week so special for me. I've loved nearly every minute of it!" I gave him one last kiss full of longing for something I would never have, and rushed out the door. I was a tangle of conflicting emotions as I made my way through the early morning to our motel. I was terrified at what was going to happen next, not really sure if the fear was for returning to my life as Jeff, or that I might not be able to. I had changed this week, in ways I am sure I had no clue about yet. Life would be different in the future, but how? And what was in the cards for Sarah and me? Would we lose each other? Was our love strong enough to pull us back together, after what we each had experienced this week? I had found no answers to those questions by the time I slipped into our room.
Trick or Treat
by Enigma
Trick or Treat? By: Enigma Part 1 of 3 Thursday, August 27 "Come on, Sandy. Not all men are alike, and certainly not all of them are like that slime ball ex-husband of yours!" Amy said. Amy and Sandy were lingering over their semi-regular weekly lunch, for once neither of them needing to rush back to their medical practices. "Well, I haven't met one yet I would trust as far as I could throw him." Her friend replied. "Oh, yes your have! Remember my James? He is a truly considerate man, and totally devoted to me!" Amy responded. "OK, maybe." Sandy said. "The jury is still out on him. After all, I've only known him, what, 2 years?" "Two and a half now! And in all that time, has he ever treated me with anything less that honest respect and love? Or you, even, in spite of the less than friendly treatment you give him whenever we're all together?" With a sigh, Sandy said, "Maybe you're right. But then, James isn't really a man anyway!" "Sandy, how dare you!" "Wait, Amy. Let me rephrase that!" she backpedaled, "I'm sorry! It's just that since he is almost exactly your height, weighs not much more that you, and his temperament is so mellow for a man, I sometimes think of him more like a woman than a man. And you should know that from me, of all people, that that is high praise for a male!" "Well, OK." Amy sulked. "That seemed like an awfully mean thing to say. To me, James is more man than any of the muscle-bound jocks out there, even if he is only 5' 8" and 145 lbs. And he is certainly more secure in his masculinity that those macho jerks that have to keep showing off to all the girls!" "Maybe, but that would be an awfully tough thing to prove. So I'll just reserve judgment for now, if you don't mind." "After all the years we've been friends you can't trust me on this? After all, I do know him a lot better than you do. I so want you two to be friends instead of the cold malice you show to him every time we get together. I wish there was some way I could prove it to you!" Amy said, thinking it would be nice if she could do things with her best friend and husband together. "Hmm. Maybe there is a way…" Amy perked up at that. "What? How?" "Give me a sec. Let me think about this a little." Sandy paused, thinking of the possibilities. "Yes, that could work!" "What could work?" Amy asked eagerly. "Well… Naw, you'd never go for it. And even if you could, there's no way any man would do it. They're all too wrapped up in their masculinity and their superiority over women!" "Not James!" growled Amy. "What do you mean I would never go for it? I would love a way to get you over your prejudice so I could spend time with the two people I love most in the world! Besides, I already told you, James isn't like that!" "OK, OK! You said James was secure in his masculinity. Well, if we could set a test to prove it to me, and he comes through it without showing me any of the signs of testosterone poisoning that make men such jerks, maybe I could come to accept James as a friend." Amy felt a thrill of excitement! "What did you have in mind?" she asked. "Well, Halloween is coming up in a 2 months, you know." Amy nodded. "And our doctors group is having the big costume party that night?" Again Amy nodded. "Well, if James would give up his masculinity for that night, and 'take it like a man', then maybe I could believe you, despite all my prior personal experience with men." Amy thought for a second. "It shouldn't be too hard to talk him into that. I mean, lots of men wear female costumes on Halloween. I think James would go for that. We might even have some fun with it!" Amy said, grinning. Sandy held up her hand. "Hold on, hold on! As you say, lots of men do the simple costume thing. That wouldn't be much of a test. I said give up his masculinity for the night." Amy got a puzzled look on her face. "What do you mean, then?" "Well, you know how similar you and James are in size, only you have curves and padding while he has straight lines and bones? And his hair is light while yours is dark? You even have almost identical skin tones, and very similar facial features, with yours being more feminine. Then there are your green eyes while his are blue." "Yes. What's your point?" "What I propose is that we make James over into your twin for the night, and dress you both in identical costumes — like, for instance, Jeannie from "I Dream of Jeannie'. Right down to identical skimpy tops and transparent pantaloons." Sandy grinned, warming to the idea. Amy frowned. "OK, but it still seems like just a costume and make-up thing. What am I missing?" Sandy smiled even wider. "You still aren't getting my point. I mean that even if you were stripped naked out of that sexy little genie costume, and all make-up removed, people still couldn't tell you apart. Not in body, not in voice, not in behavior. Nada. Nothing. Zip!" "What! That's impossible! I mean even if the rest were possible, James still has something between his legs that is very important to both of us. And I don't! Besides, what you are talking about is non-reversible. No! No way!" "OK, I'll grant you that one difference. Identical except for the difference in genitals between your legs, OK?" Sandy said with a smirk. "And I am not talking about anything that is permanent. Everything would be a part of James for the party, but would be reversible afterward." "But you're talking about surgery! No, absolutely not! James wouldn't go for it, and I wouldn't allow it!" "Amy, give me some credit here! I am the best plastic surgeon in the Southwest, and what I am talking about are some relatively minor procedures, all completely reversible! And I would do them, and undo them after the party for nothing. I swear to you, if James were to do this, and attend the party, with no macho posturing or complaints, I will accept him as a friend as dear to my heart as you are." Sandy paused for a moment, while Amy tried to clear her head. "But you're right. I don't believe there is any way that James would go for it. His macho pride, though well hidden so far, would never permit it." Amy was torn. What Sandy was proposing was awful, but the possible outcome — that Sandy and James could become friends — was too much to dismiss out-of-hand. Sandy wracked her brain for something to tip the balance. She could tell that Amy was considering it, as outlandish as it was. Finally she said, "Tell you what, let's leave it up to James. You propose it to him in the form of a bet and let him decide. If he won't go through with it, or backs out before attending the party, you guys send me on that Caribbean cruise I have been wanting to take. If he succeeds, and passes as your double at the party, you get what you want most — I will be James' best friend for life. But…" Sandy paused here to make sure she had Amy's full attention. "You have to promise me that you will do your absolute best to sell James, or we just forget it. You have to suspend your own judgment on this test, and become its greatest proponent in selling it to James. But it is his decision." "But… but.." Amy stuttered. Sandy cut in, "Good, that's settled. I think I am going to enjoy my cruise!" she smirked. "Just be sure you give him accurate but positive information about the reversibility of the cosmetic tweaks and hormones, so he can make a reasoned decision — but if you want he and I to be friends, you have to do a good job of selling this, otherwise it ain't never gonna happen!" Amy's head was whirling. "Hormones?" Had she really agreed to this? Sandy responded with certainty, "Of course. There is no way he could be feminine looking enough to be your double without the skin and feature softening and fat redistribution effects of female hormones. Besides, you, with your medical experience treating transgendered women, should know that within the timeframe we are talking for the party, all the effects from the hormones will be reversible. If they are not carried on beyond the party." Amy was still wondering how she got herself into this, and tried to put on the breaks before this runaway train reached the end of the tracks. "Hold on…" Sandy cut in again, "You're right. There are some details we have to work out. And to sweeten the pot, I will assume up front that James is going to succeed, and from this day forward, until such time as he should back out, I will accord him the same friendship, respect, and caring as I show you. Deal?" Amy was still doubtful, "That sounds great. That is one of my fondest hopes, but…" "Now," asked Sandy, "if we assume for the moment that James will accept this challenge, do you want to handle his hormone therapy, or should I? We both have quite a bit of experience with it, but I have a new form of estrogen implant that has been a very low impact treatment for transsexuals, but has shown fantastic results." "I don't know," Amy was still trying to stall. "I think I would rather handle it with the tried and true pill form. Besides, I would like to oversee that part of the treatment. As you know, I have the most to lose! Well, after James that is." Sandy was glad to see Amy's humor returning, even if it was pretty weak. It meant Sandy was going to get her way. "OK, let's see, tomorrow is Friday. Hmm. I think I have the afternoon free, why don't you have James come see me about 12:30, and we can talk this over, whether he has accepted the challenge or not. For one thing, I would like to start building a friendly trust between us. For another, the sooner we get started, the better prepared he will be for Halloween." "Tomorrow!" Amy gasped. "I had no idea how we would start so quick. Besides, I don't know if I can sell him on this by tomorrow!" Sandy noted the implied assumption that Amy *would* sell James on the challenge, and mentally grinned like the Cheshire cat. "But Amy, you should know that we need all the time we can get to show results from the hormones. And for the implants to heal. And for James to start developing *your* feminine behavior. After all, in two months and a couple days, he has to *be* you. Or I will be enjoying my Caribbean cruise, and you can kiss any hope of James and I being friends goodbye. Oh, and as far as selling him the idea, sex works great with guys!" "OK, I'll try," Amy said a little sadly. "Don't try. Do. Remember, you promised you would sell him on this idea. Plus you have so much to gain and nothing to lose. Oh, look at the time. I have to run. Remember, have James in my office at 12:30 tomorrow." "But, Sandy, I can't come then, I have patients…" "That's good. If this is going to work, I have to learn to trust James, and I have to gain his trust as well. And that is best done without you, at least to start. I promise, I well treat him as a good friend. Gotta run. Bye." "OK, bye." Amy continued to sit in a daze, until she shook herself and realized she had patients to see, too. As she walked back to her office she started working herself up to sell this to James tonight. She still had her reservations, and she did feel Sandy had kind of steamrolled her into it, but she had agreed. Hadn't she? And she had so much to gain, if only James and Sandy could be good friends. ***** Meanwhile, I sat blissfully unaware of all this discussion that was about to change my life. I was hard at work in the home office of the dream house that Amy's success as a doctor and my success as a computer consultant had allowed us to buy last year. I was very fortunate that my job not only paid well, but allowed me to work from home much of the time. We were also fortunate that our combined incomes allowed us to live very comfortably, and to have built up a good savings reserve. Even though we could afford it, our lifestyle was not extravagant. We had a nice house, but it was no mansion. Our cars were less than a year old, and high quality, but not flashy. And we had many of the toys and amenities we wanted, but did not go overboard. I made good progress that afternoon, and knocked off about 6 pm, knowing Amy would be along shortly. I put some steaks on the grill for dinner, stuck some bread in the oven to heat, and was working on a salad when Amy came in. "Hi, honey. How was your day?" She said. "Great!" I answered. "I almost have that latest project ready to pass on to the testers." "That's fantastic, James. That puts you several weeks ahead of schedule, doesn't it?" "Yup, and I am really ready for a short break before I plow into the next phase. And how was your day?" "Mostly fine." "Mostly?" James asked. "Yes, everything at the office went smoothly, but something really strange came up at lunch that I need to talk to you about. Can we put dinner on hold for a while, and get a little cozy while I talk something out with you?" "Well, the steaks are about ready, and so is everything else…" "Please, James. This is important, and we can reheat things later… Please?" as she started unbuttoning my shirt and rubbing her hand over my chest. "OK, OK, just let me pull the steaks off the grill and the bread out of the oven." "Hurry" was all she said as she started shedding clothes and walking toward our bedroom. By the time I salvaged the food and got to our room, Amy was naked on the bed, holding her arms out to me. It only took me a few seconds to strip and join her on the bed. "Wow, what is this all about?" I groaned, as she slid down and took my rapidly stiffening member in her mouth. After a few minutes of pure bliss for me, she pulled her mouth off my member before I could explode, but continued to gently stroke me. It was all I could do to not beg her for more. "Jamie, honey, can you do me a really big favor?" The "Jamie" didn't penetrate my fogged brain, or it would have set off warning bells. Amy doesn't call me that, as she thinks it is too feminine. She says she thinks of me as manlier than that. "Anything" I gasped, "just don't stop what you are doing!" "I made a bet today, and I really need you to do something for me so we can win it." "Bet? Oh, don't stop sweetheart!" My pleasure grew as she continued to stroke. "Yes, honey. I can win something I really, really want if you help me. If I lose, we have to pay for a Caribbean cruise. I don't care about that, but I really, really want what we could win!" At this point she stopped stroking to look up at me peeking around my throbbing pole. "Noooo, don't stop. If it is that important to you, darling, I will help. I will do anything you ask, just please don't stop!" I cried frantically. "OK, just remember that promise!" she said as she sucked me back into her hot moist corner of heaven. She started moving with a purposeful rhythm, and soon had me gasping and whimpering, and it wasn't long before I flew into space, and started pumping my juice into her waiting mouth. She continued to suck and lick gently as I started coming down from orbit. Eventually I could think again, and my breathing slowed enough that I could talk. "OK, I promised. Want to tell me what I got myself into?" Amy didn't answer right away, but slowly worked my member until the softening became a hardening, and I was working up another head of steam. At this point, she let me slip from her mouth, and I whimpered again. But she had crawled up my body and was fitting my nearly erect pole into the steaming and overly wet slot between her legs. "Ok, god, that feels wonderful" I moaned. "The bet has to do with our costumes for the Halloween party." "Mmmmmm. That doesn't sound so bad. Oh, you are so hot!" "Well, lover, it is a bit more than that." All the while Amy is sliding very slowly up and down, teasing me to full hardness. "We need to go in identical costumes, you and I." "OK, we should be able to manage that." It was getting hard to think again, but oh, it felt sooooo good. "There is more yet, honey. The costume is the Jeannie costume from 'I Dream of Jeannie'". "What!" I raised my head and shoulders using my elbows so I could look my wife in the face. Amy increased the pace, and I slowly sank back onto the bed, and moaned again. "But, Amy, I am not a girl!" "Shh, I know, lover. But that is why there is a bet for the stakes I mentioned. Unngh. Oh. Ahhhhh." Amy stifled a scream, and shuddered atop me as she came, and stopped moving while her breathing calmed. I was so close. I moved my hands to her hips and started moving her, trying to restart the rhythm. "Well, I'm not sure about that, Amy. I don't know if I could look like a girl. And I don't want to be laughed at." Amy was now rotating her hips, bringing me back to the brink. She remained silent for a while, watching my face, listening to my breathing becoming more labored. Just as I was about to spill over the edge, she stopped again. "Nooooo! Don't stop! Honey, I am so close!" "Jamie, listen to me. Honey, focus, cause this is important. You will not be laughed at. No one will know you are not a girl, because you will be my body double. Identical in every detail. You will be a girl!" "Amy!" My erection wilted almost instantly. "What are you saying! How could you even think that!" "Shh, my love. That is, a girl except for the bits between your legs." Amy started grinding her mound into my crotch, swiveling her hips, and making sure that even limp that I did not slip out of her. "It is OK, lover. I would never do anything to harm you or our life together. Shh." Slowly I relaxed again, and the motion began to have its intended effect on my state of arousal. I gradually grew again, and once more filled Amy's tight slit. "We won't do anything that cannot be undone, my love. After the party, you will be able to be again as you are now." Now I was really confused, and my returning arousal was doing nothing to help me think this through. What is it that Amy wanted of me? Could I do it? Should I do it? Amy started to pick up the pace, and my befuddled thoughts became even less coherent. I was once again poised on the brink, and I could tell that Amy was as well. In spite of all the shocks Amy had thrown at me this evening, her teasing, stopping, and starting had taken me higher that any time I could remember, and I could tell that Amy was about to shatter with a tremendous orgasm as well. "Please, my love. My wonderful, wonderful husband." And she stopped. "Nooo. Amy, you can't do this, don't stop!" Amy remained motionless. "Please, my darling Jamie. Do this for me. Do this for us!" I couldn't take it any more, and wailed "Yes, love. Anything!" She started moving again, and I repeated "Anything" with a sigh. And the fireworks went off in my head, and I could feel Amy explode at the same time. Then it was a while before I could think of anything. After we rested, Amy slumped on top of me, and our breathing gradually returned to normal, Amy's first words were "That was amazing! I am not sure I have ever gone that high before!" I had to agree, but as my brain cleared, I had an uneasy feeling that I had committed to something I should not have. But I sighed and agreed. "Yes, that was amazing." We cuddled for a while more, then Amy crawled off me and staggered to the bathroom. I managed to rise from the bed, and followed her. As I was entering the bathroom, she was just donning a diaphanous white rode that did nothing to hide her perfect body, and I once again felt a twitch in my manhood. But Amy smiled at me and slipped past, out the bathroom door, saying "I'll start reheating dinner. When you get there, we'll talk." I washed up and slipped into a pair of shorts, and arrived in the kitchen a few minutes after her. She said, "I know it's a sin to nuke these beautiful steaks, but they are all grilled, and all we need is for them to be warmed through." I chuckled, and said "That's OK. I don't think I am going to eat much anyway." Amy put a mock pout on her beautiful lips, and we finished getting the meal on the table. Once we sat, Amy took a bite of the steak, and sat, chewing slowly, looking lost in thought. I just sat there watching, thinking how much I love this woman. Several minutes after she finished that one bite, she seemed to reach a decision, set her silverware aside, and looked intently in my eyes. I could already tell this was going to be serious. "James, I fear I owe you an apology. I have done a terrible thing. Well, maybe a couple terrible things. The worst is that I used sex to force you into agreeing to something that I wanted. Something too serious to manipulate you like that." I started to open my mouth, but she stopped me with her eyes, and continued. "First of all, I am releasing you from the two promises I maneuvered you into making." "Wait, love," I said. "Let's talk this over before we start assigning or accepting blame. Yes, you had me at a disadvantage while we made our earlier agreements, but I need to understand what I agreed to, and why, before I can back out of a promise I made to the woman I love." Amy blushed very red, and started to say something, but I hurried on. "I have so many questions about all this that I don't know where to start." I paused a moment, waving Amy off as she started again to say something. "OK, let's start with why it was so important to you that you resorted to feminine wiles to get my promise." Amy looked a bit guilty, and said, "I told you, I made a bet, and I want to win!" I had to think a moment before it came back to me. "Oh, yes. You mentioned that if we lost, we paid for someone to take a Caribbean cruise, but you never said what we would win. Just based on the magnitude of the one prize, I can tell this is a doozie of a bet. Just what is it that you would win that is so important to you?" "Friendship between my two best friends," was her puzzling reply. That stopped me for a while. "Care to explain that?" Now Amy looked close to tears, which only increased my confusion. She took a deep breath and said, "It tears me up inside that my two best friends in this world, my wonderful husband and my best girlfriend, cannot be friends enough that we can all do things together." She held up her hand. "I know, you make every effort, and Sandy just keeps throwing that effort back in your face, and the result is any get-together leaves us all unhappy. Sandy and I talked about it today, and what we finally arrived at was a test, of sorts. It ended up, somehow, in the form of a bet. But the basis if the test was that if you were secure enough in your manhood to give it up for the Halloween party, without resorting to macho intimidation or manipulation, then Sandy would put aside her prejudice against men, only in your case, and make her best effort to be your friend. That is a wish so dear to my heart that I agreed to the bet, against my better judgment." That gave me a lot to think about. I could see how important this was to Amy, but there were still a lot of unknowns. So it was time for the next question. "OK, define 'give up my manhood'." Amy blushed again, and looked down at her hands folded on the table, almost in a prayer position. Eventually she looked up and said "You and I are nearly identical height and weight, with similar hair and facial features. You would have to consent to being manipulated physically to the point that our bodies were as near identical as it is possible to do. The sole exception would be the difference in primary genitalia. Modifications would further be limited such that anything would be fully reversible, or of such minor consequence that the change would be acceptable to you/us." A frown started forming as I digested that. "But that means… what, breast implants? And…" I stalled out at this point. So Amy timidly took up the catalog. "Breast implants, liposuction to narrow the waist and pad the hips and fanny, pierced ears, collagen lip treatment, short term estrogen therapy, temporary hair removal, colored contacts, hair trim and coloring. Although I think we will both have to cut and color our hair to fit the costume image." My mind froze at that one word, "Estrogen? But isn't that dangerous, and doesn't that change your body and emotional and mental outlook?" That one really scared me. Amy tried her best to put me at ease. "Not necessarily. Both Sandy and I have considerable experience treating transsexual patients with estrogen therapy, and we both understand the effects very well. What you say is true, but for short term, as in the two months before the party, the main effects would be some expansion of the areoles and nipples as well as increased sensitivity, some redistribution of the fat in certain areas like hips, waist, butt, and thighs, softening and smoothing of the skin, softening of some of the sharper features of the face, minor shift of emotions. But nearly all of that will reverse within a few months of cessation of the therapy." "Nearly?" Amy blushed again. "Well, the more sensitive and expanded areoles and nipples would remain. But I think we could both enjoy that!" "Oh." And I thought some more. "I guess one more obvious question is cost? This all seems excessive for a Halloween party." Amy responded slowly, "Certainly there will be some cost, costumes, salon treatments, etc. But what would have been by far the major cost, the cosmetic procedures, Sandy has offered to do for nothing." "Sandy? I am not sure about that. I mean, I know her reputation as a plastic surgeon is great, but with her attitude toward me, and men in general, I am not sure I could feel comfortable with that." "Sandy has many male patients, and treats them professionally. And she has assured me that if you undertake this, she will suspend her male prejudice immediately, and treat you as much as a friend as she treats me. However, she also assured me that if you backed out of this, or did not try in the first place, that she could virtually guarantee that she would never consider you a friend." At this point, tears started trickling down Amy's cheek, and she struggled to regain her composure. "This is why I was so desperate as to connive to get your promise. James, this seems like my last chance to grab for this particular happiness." She looked away, and I could tell that she was hurting inside. She was so afraid of losing this dream. I had run out of things to say, and I could not see any way out that would not hurt the person I loved more than life itself. We put the virtually untouched food away, went to bed and snuggled together. I did not sleep much that night. Friday, August 28 Next morning, I still had not made up my mind. Amy could feel that, and was in a somber mood as she got ready for work. A few times she started to say something, but apparently decided that there was nothing to add, and that it had to be my decision. Finally, just before she left, she said, "I know you are still undecided, but would you please go by Sandy's office at 12:30 today. She can give you a much better rundown on what would need to be done, and maybe then you can make a decision." I agreed, then kissed her like it was my last chance as she went out the door. I got quickly to work as I wanted to finish this phase of my work before things might get any crazier. I finished before 11:00, and got ready to visit Sandy. Guess I would miss lunch today. ***** Midmorning, Sandy called Amy at her office to ask how it went. Amy told her that James was considering it, had not made up his mind yet, but would be there for his appointment. Then Sandy asked Amy to stop by her office at 11:30. "Why?" asked Amy. "I need to take a series of digital images of your face and body so I can talk intelligently with James about how we would achieve your look on him." "Oh, OK. See you then." "Another thing, you are about a C cup, aren't you? I'll need to know that to talk with James about the implant procedure as well." ***** I arrived at Sandy's office a little early to find the waiting room deserted, which surprised me. In no time at all, I was shown to Sandy's office, and Sandy walked in a few minutes later. "Sorry to keep you waiting," she said with the most genuine smile I can ever remember her directing at me. That was a good sign! "No problem! I just got here, and it isn't even 12:30 yet!" "Well, lets get straight to the point, OK? I know from Amy that you haven't made up your mind yet. I am not here to sell you on this. I want to provide you with information so you can make the best decision for you and Amy. I know that this challenge is more than a little unorthodox, but you have to understand my background." "First let me say, I love Amy like a sister. I know it tears her up inside that I have not been able to tolerate you, and I would love to find a solution to ease her pain. So!" "I have been hurt by every man that has been part of my life, from my father, to the first boy I made love to, to my husband. I have over 25 years of building up hatred for men, and while my mind can say that not all men are like that, my heart and my gut cannot be made to believe. I know Amy loves you dearly, and trusts you implicitly. But I felt the same about my husband to begin with. That was before he ripped my heart out of my chest and stomped it on the floor. That is the reason this challenge evolved out of the conversation Amy and I had over lunch yesterday." "My thought process on this is that if you can effectively forfeit your manhood for a short time, and not go all macho or grumbly during that period, then I feel that I can probably accept in my heart what Amy is telling me about you and your difference from the men I have known and loathe. That would open the door to the friendship between us that Amy so dearly wants." I had sat quietly, watching the play of emotions across Sandy's face, trying to absorb what she said, trying to imagine how I would feel in her place. While I could see her point of view, I was still no more comfortable with what I was being asked to do. Sandy shifted gears, "First I would like to take a series of pictures of your face and body to refer to as we talk about what we will do. I did the same thing with Amy earlier." I agreed, and Sandy snapped about forty pictures of my various body parts. Fortunately her professional attitude prevented most of the embarrassment on my part. "Now let's talk about what you can expect. You and Amy went through a list of possible changes. As we talk, I will toss out a few more that you might consider. Remember, pretty much everything I suggest will be reversible after the party, if you so choose. Let's take the biggies first: breast implants and hormones. I think Amy gave you a fairly good rundown on the hormone part — about the only lasting changes, given the term, would be the increased sensitivity and size of the areoles and nipples. Everything else, fat distribution, skin texture, mood and thought pattern changes, would shift back in one to several months after treatment ceases." "In addition to estrogens, you might consider an anti-androgen. These inhibit the action of testosterone, greatly increasing the effectiveness of the estrogen. These must be used with caution. If used for more than 3 months, in the dose we would use, they can cause the testes to shut down and atrophy. That would be a non-reversible result, but should not be an issue, since use will cease treatment in two months." "About administration of the hormones, we have several options, with varying effectiveness, convenience, and speed of results. Sometimes several are used together, particularly pills with one of the other forms. Pills are most common, and slowest, when used alone. If we use pills, either alone or with another method, Amy will handle that." "Estrogen can be administered by shots. This is more effective than the pills alone, and must be repeated weekly." "Finally, there are time-release implants. These, especially a recent form I have available, are the fastest acting, most effective, and easiest, as they only have to be readministered every 30, 60, or 90 days, depending on the particular implant. Probably the best result for you would be a 30 day implant with pills to supplement the dose. With the right dosage of each, you should achieve good results in the 2 months before the party." "Breast implants are an outpatient therapy these days. Removal is not quite as simple, causing more bruising and recovery time, but is easily achievable. For the implantation, bruising should go away within a week or slightly more. In your case, soreness might last a little longer as you have less excess skin over the breast area, so more stretching will need to occur. Your wife is a C cup," at this point she referred to several pictures of Amy's and my chests to illustrate her points, "so that is what we would do with you. That is an easily achievable goal given your size. Any questions so far?" Yup, a million, but I couldn't frame a single one to ask it, so I just shook my head. "OK, next let's talk about liposuction. We use a little vacuum cleaner to pull out the extra fat from your body. We can then, if we choose, return that fat to a new location to improve your feminine shape. Since we use your own tissue, there is very little chance of complications like tissue rejection. In your case, since you are so trim anyway, the major removal site would be your waist, and anything we could get would be shifted to your hips and buttocks. Obviously, we are trying for a more hourglass shape here to match Amy. There is some bruising and soreness that accompanies liposuction, but its duration is less than the breast implants." Again she referred to pictures of Amy's and my waists, hips, and fannies. "I said I would toss in a few more ideas for you to consider beyond what you and Amy discussed. Amy has a really trim waist, and it will be very difficult to match that with just liposuction. So there is another procedure we use in these circumstances: removal of the lower rib from the ribcage." I jerked my head up at this, but Sandy calmly continued, "Obviously, that is permanent, but it is not something that you would even be likely to notice after you return to your masculine physique. I just tossed that out in case you wanted to achieve the best possible imitation of Amy's body, as it will make your ribcage much more similar to hers. That is another procedure we could take care of for you here." "Next: collagen for the lips. Most women have fuller lips than men, and that is indeed the case for you and Amy." She showed me close-ups of Amy's lips to compare to the snapshots of me. "To match you to Amy, we would inject collagen at several places in your lips. There is minor discomfort associated with this that would go away in a day or so, and the treatment lasts for about 6 months, gradually disappearing naturally." Sandy pulled up more pictures of my face and the same images of Amy's face. "As you know, there are infinite variations of facial features that make individuals recognizable. In this case, as you can see from the pictures, your face is remarkably similar to Amy's, but is still easily recognizable as you. Here I would suggest another enhancement that you and Amy did not discuss. By inserting small implants at these locations," she showed me on the pictures, "we can significantly enhance the similarity. With these changes, seen side by side, you could tell the faces are subtly different, but you would be hard pressed to identify any specific differences, or which person was which. Seen separately, most people would not be able to tell if they were the same person or not, or tell which was which." After a pause she continued, "Another tweak would be to shave your Adams apple. While you do not have a prominent one, it is very noticeable compared to Amy's throat. Obviously, this is another non-reversible change, but it is not something you are likely to miss. Along with that, you might consider another change that is fully reversible. By tightening your vocal cords, we could raise the pitch of your voice to closely match Amy's. You might be able to achieve the same thing with practice and/or training, but this would be much easier for you, and probably more effective." Sandy stopped talking, and seemed deep in thought for several minutes. I waited patiently until she collected her thoughts. I doubted I could collect my whirling thoughts at this point. "You may wonder at the extent I am suggesting you go to duplicate your wife. I have wondered about that myself. There are three points I would like to make: first, they are all minor and mostly reversible procedures. Second, by making you look more like the woman I know and love, I feel it will be easier for me to accept and love you as a friend. Even after you return to normal, I will carry this image of you forever. And finally, while I know I have put forward some very strange ideas about how I can learn to be your friend, I would hope that you and Amy can not just survive this test, but can make it a fun and exciting experience. I think any reasonable lengths we can go to in order to play on the duplication of appearance can increase your enjoyment. Think of the tricks you can play on other attendees at the party!" Another short pause, then "I think that pretty much covers the procedures and treatments that I would be helping with. I think you have a pretty good handle on the hair, ears, and contacts. Just a word about hair removal, since most men know little about it other than shaving their faces." Sandy peered closely at my arms, and the snapshots of my legs and chest. "Certainly, one way to handle it is to shave. That can be a pain. Another method for everything below the neck is depilatory, like Nair. This can be very effective, and lasts longer than shaving. I'll propose something else here: we have a laser hair removal technician in-house. If there was any hair (beard for instance) that you would not mind losing forever, we can do that too. For the disguise, a significant advantage is in the softness and smoothness of the skin, not to mention avoiding the possibility of nicks and cuts. Plus, it would relieve you from ever having to shave." "That about covers it. Now, what question can I answer for you?" My brain was on information overload. I could not formulate any questions that I thought would be pertinent. I reflected on the open and friendly way Sandy had dealt with me this afternoon, and the effort it must be costing her to do so. Finally I asked "What do you think I should do?" "I'm surprised you ask me, of all people, that question. But I have to say, I cannot answer it for you." She paused before continuing, "I will say two things: first, I hope you do, but you should not let that significantly affect your decision, as ultimately you have to decide for your sake. Or yours and Amy's." "My other comment is that this should be what you and Amy both want. But I fear involving her too much in the decision will be stressful. She wants our friendship so much that it might influence her to push you to do it. Or, it may cause her to counsel you not to do it for fear that she is pushing you into it. For that reason, I think you should make the decision yourself, based on what you believe is best for you and Amy both." That was a lot to ponder. I would need time to think on this one! So I asked "OK, if, and I repeat if, I decide to go ahead, when do we do this?" "Well, my schedule, and the in-house operating theater are available this afternoon, and ideally, we would get started today. You have to remember it takes a while to heal, but even more, it will take time for you to handle the changes, and adopt the feminine mannerisms that go with your new body." "Today! Wow, that had not occurred to me. Can you give me a while alone to think on this?" "Sure, but if you need any more than about a half hour, it will be too late today and we will have to schedule it next week, if we can find an opening." ***** All my fears and the facts I had received chased round in circles inside my head. Finally, I tried to call Amy just to hear her voice, hoping that would help lead me to the correct decision. Unfortunately, Amy was tied up and would not be available for a while yet. So again I pondered, and watched the minute hand crawl around the clock, slowly eating the time I had left. Finally, I thought of Amy, and her love for me, and my love for her, and her love for Sandy, and the pain Sandy's refusal of me was causing my loving wife, and the answer became clear. How could I consider the minor discomfort this would cause my male ego when I could plainly see the cost to my lifemate? About then, Sandy stuck her head in to see how I was doing, offering to bring a coffee or soft drink if I needed it. I asked her to come in and sit down, told her of my decision, and we started shopping the list of changes I would receive. Ultimately, because I was doing it for Amy, and unwilling to consider the cost to myself, I basically gave Sandy carte blanche, telling her to do her best for Amy, for me, and for herself. We settled on the breast and facial implants, liposuction, shaved Adams apple, raised voice pitch, removal of the "extra" rib and my facial hair, and use of an implant to administer the high-performance estrogen formula and the anti-androgen. The look of satisfaction on her face went a long way toward making up for what I was putting myself through. Sandy left to prepare, and sent in a nurse with a pile of consent forms I needed to sign. After those were handled, I begged a minute to call Amy to tell her of my decision and impending surgery. The best I could do was to leave her a voice message with my decision, my love, and the fact that I would be in need of a ride home tonight. The nurse gave me a hospital gown, and when I had changed, put my clothes in a sack to be stored till later. I was then taken to the operating theater where Sandy's well-trained staff was just about ready for me. They administered the anesthetic, and the next thing I was aware of was waking with a parched throat and my beautiful wife's face looking down at me with tears in her eyes, sobbing "What have I done to you, my poor darling?" Unable to even croak a word, I smacked my lips to get the point across that I needed a drink. Amy quickly understood, and helped me. Then she said, "Don't try to speak yet, sweetheart. It will be tomorrow before you should talk to let your throat heal." I was slowly becoming more conscious as time passed. More aware that there was little from my forehead to my thighs that did not ache, and most of that was covered in bandages. I did my best to get across to Amy that she should not beat herself up over what we were doing, but she would not or could not understand my feeble attempt at communication. As my wits returned, I became aware of a mountain on my aching chest. At least, that's what it felt and looked like. Amy saw the direction of my frightened gaze and quickly reassured me, "Those only look huge right now because of the swelling, bandages, and surgical bra." That eased my anxiety a bit, but not completely. Not for the first time I wondered what I had gotten myself into. Sandy came in, and when she saw I was awake, she smiled broadly and told me everything went very well. In a few days when we could take all the bandages off we should be more than pleased with the results. I would reserve my judgment on that, and from Amy's expression, I figured she felt the same. From the way Amy stiffened when Sandy entered, I decided some words had been exchanged when Amy learned of my so-quick surgery, or maybe the extent of it as well. I hoped my choices had not put a strain on their relationship. After all, the whole point of this exercise was the let Amy and Sandy get together more without the friction that has existed between Sandy and I. After an hour, a nurse helped me get out of bed to see if I could move around. An hour later I was delivered to Amy's car in a wheelchair. My car would have to stay at the medical offices over the weekend. At home, Amy helped me out of my ill-fitting clothes. She then tenderly sponged the areas of skin not hidden by bandages, and helped me into one of her softest nighties. My sleep was again restless due to the pain, the residual drugs, or my worries about my place in the world. Saturday, August 29 I awoke the next morning with the late August sun streaming through the windows. I was still aching over much of my body, but it was less debilitating than last night. Amy was not in bed with me, but I could hear her moving around in the kitchen. I gingerly arose from the bed, eased the nightie over my head, and then carefully moved myself in front of the mirrored doors of the walk-in closet. What stared back at me was a good imitation of a mummy that had been worked over by a street gang! Much of my face and body was covered in bandages, and most of what wasn't so covered was black and blue. But it was obvious that this mummy was female. I slipped my briefs down to the floor and stood naked before the mirror — that is naked excepting the bandages. I was much relieved to see my male package still firmly planted between my legs, because with the exception of that, there was no evidence of a male in the reflected image. As I turned to view myself from different angles, I noticed Amy standing silently in the bedroom door watching me. When I had completed my inspection, she slowly flowed across the room and carefully enfolded me in her arm. As she clung to me I could feel the tears that leaked from her eyes and fell on my shoulder. "Hey, now, sweetheart, everything is OK. Don't cry. It will be OK, baby. Shh." I whispered, trying to comfort my wonderful wife and assure her I was alright, and that we would get through this just fine. Now all I needed was for someone to convnce me. My sore throat kept my voice at a whisper as I continued, "This is what we talked about, right? This is what we decided we wanted. This is for both of us, and so we can be closer to Sandy. Don't cry. I love you so much!" She sobbed, drew a deep breath, and tipped her head back so she could look at me. "But we never talked about anything this extreme! I'm scared, honey. I'm afraid of what is happening." "It'll be OK, Amy. Yes, this is a bit more than we talked about, but it is still just several minor procedures, nearly all of which are reversible." "Nearly?" "Well, I knew the rib and shaving the adams apple was non-reversible, but that is no problem. The only other thing will be that when the effects of the hormones wear off and the implants are removed, my nipples will still be larger. Speaking of which, are you planning on giving me hormone pills?" "That is what we talked about. Are you sure you want to go through with it?" I tried to smile to reassure her, but I'm not sure how much showed around the bandages. "We agreed on it, so we might as well. Besides, I trust my doctor with my life!" Amy searched my face for a moment, then silent left me. She quickly returned searching her purse, and came out with two pill bottles. "This one is one pill each morning and evening, and this smaller pill is just one in the evening. And this is very important! These are pills we use with transsexual patients. At this dose, the effects will be completely reversible after two months, but if continued longer, they can permanently change your body, attitudes, and impair sexual function." As I reached for the bottles, she pulled them back. "Are you really sure about this?" I just quietly reached for the bottles, took out the morning pill, and swallowed it dry. "This is important for you, for us. It will be just fine. My doctor told me so and I have complete faith in her!" After breakfast, Amy helped me back to bed, as I was still quite weak. She crawled in beside me and snuggled against my side, gingerly reaching to lightly run her fingers over the contours of my new breasts. My new breasts! How weird! "Honey?" She murmured hesitantly. "Hmmm." "Are you really OK with this?" I tilted my head so I could look in her eyes. "I am not sure that OK is exactly right, but this will be fine. And I want to do this for you. The strain our marriage has put on your relationship with Sandy has put a strain right back on our marriage. Even if you won't admit that. If this can relieve that strain, then I am willing… no… make that happy to do this." She smiled weakly. "I love you so much!" "Besides," I said, showing an evil little grin, "I have thought about what Sandy said in her office, and I think there is a potential for us to have some real fun with this!" "Oh?" "Yes! If we hide this from everyone else in your medical group, we can really play some mind games with them at the party! With the 'enhancements' Sandy sold me on, we should look more alike than identical twins. If we keep away from each other for at least the first part of the party, with my knowledge of the people you work with, I should be able to pass as you fairly easily. Think of the fun we can have!" That perked her smile up a little more. "Oh, you are so wicked!" I just chuckled, then said, "Of course, that means I will have to learn to imitate you as much as possible. Think you can teach me that in two months?" She giggled. "Should be fun! How completely do you want to do this?" "How about until your mom can't tell us apart?" "Now, there's a thought. Maybe we could have a bit of fun with that as well! Think you could learn that much about being me that quick?" I carefully scratched the square millimeter of my chin that wasn't bandaged as I seemed to think about it. "Well, you have been my favorite topic of study these last 4 years. I think I can force myself to study you a bit more!" "Hey!" She swatted me playfully on the arm. I just groaned in mock pain. I spent most of that day recuperating in bed. Sunday, August 30 Sunday, I spent a bit more time up and about. I needed to get myself moving, since I had to see Sandy the next morning to get the bandages off. We still just stayed in, though, and talked. My voice was better, and we decided the pitch was pretty close to what I needed to imitate Amy. So we spent some time Sunday with a tape recorder, with Amy coaching me to speak like her. By the end of the day, we both agreed I had a long way to go. We packed a bag of Amy's clothes, some of her looser items, for me to dress in after Sandy finished with me tomorrow. ***** Monday, August 31 After another night in Amy's nightgown, again troubled by doubt, I awoke very early Monday. I slipped from the bed so as not to wake Amy, and gave my few exposed inches of skin a sponge bath. By the time I was finished, Amy was up and needed the bathroom, so I slipped on one of her robes and went to fix coffee. After a light breakfast (I still needed to lose a little around the middle to match my slender wife), and my morning pill (that was already becoming a habit), I pulled on one of Amy's sweat suits while she got ready for work. I quietly watched her apply her makeup and fix her hair, sadly thinking that I would be doing that soon myself. We didn't talk much on the drive to the building that housed Amy's and Sandy's offices. Amy asked me to stop by her office when Sandy was done with me, but I demurred, saying with all the bruising I would be too uncomfortable to be seen. I told her I would just sneak out to my car and come home. With all the swelling and bruising, I wouldn't resemble the finished product yet anyway. She reluctantly agreed. Amy gave me a careful but passionate kiss on the lips before we got out of the car and went our separate ways. I arrived at Sandy's office before it opened, but they were expecting me, and the nurse let me into the empty waiting room, and immediately took me back to an examining room. Sandy showed up a moment later. I tried out my voice lessons from the day before, "Good morning, Sandy." "Hey, that sounds pretty good! At least one procedure gave us the result we were looking for. Let's get these bandages off and see what is what." With her nurse assisting, Sandy carefully started removing bandages from below my new grillwork. The liposuction had left some bruising, and a few marks that were not completely healed. Sandy assured me they would fade over the next week or two. Then she shifted her focus to my neck, then face. She inspected her work carefully, but did not let me see yet. "Looks pretty good — for slightly over-aged hamburger." This was said with a straight face. But she couldn't keep it up, and broke into a lopsided grin. "It really does look pretty bad right now, but when the swelling goes down, the bruises fade, and the incisions heal, you are going to be one pretty lady. You ought to be; you will be a dead ringer for that classy wife of yours." She then shifted her attention to my chest. She asked if I brought one of Amy's good support bras. I told her I had, and pulled it out of the bag I had brought. She went on to explain that since the skin of my male chest was so tight to begin with, that the implants would appear somewhat squashed and spread out initially, but that as the skin stretched, they would shift into the classic female shape. Oh joy — I will have beautiful breasts! Can it get any better? Sandy carefully removed the surgical bra, and started unwrapping the dressings. After working a while, she finally got down to bare flesh. I stared in awe at the bruised lumps of flesh that had been revealed. As if in a dream, I slowly brought my hands up to cup my new mammeries. How strange it was to see them there. How strange it was to feel them there. I think I had a mild case of shock at that point. Sandy gently moved my probing hands aside and carefully fitted the support bra over the mounds. "You need to wear this, or a similar one for the next week any time except when you bathe. And don't bathe before tomorrow night." I nodded dumbly, my gaze still glued to my chest. "Earth to Jamie. Can you hear me?" I tore my eyes away and looked at Sandy. "Did you hear what I said?" Somehow I got my voice working and said yes. Sandy told me to come back the next Friday for her to check everything over, but she didn't foresee any problems. And to make another appointment for a month from now. Then she smiled at me and left her nurse to help me dress as a woman for the first time. We put on the man-styled beige blouse Amy had sent, as well as a dark green skirt that ended just below my knees. I finished up with a pair of Amy's brown flats. With all the bruising on my face, she didn't bother with any makeup except some frosty pink lipstick. That was another strange sensation! The nurse then led me back to reception to set up the appointments. I was a little nervous, as there were now a couple other people in the waiting room, but they didn't pay any attention as I stood waiting for the appointment cards. I tucked the cards in the purse Amy had placed my wallet in, and pulled out my car keys as I left the building. It was another warm August morning, and the breeze swirled around by legs and up under the skirt. It was not uncomfortable, but I was happy to reach the refuge of my car for the drive home. At home, I had a salad for lunch, then checked email. No word from work, so I had nothing to worry about there yet. I puttered around the house, picking up a bit, glancing at a magazine or two. Finally, late in the afternoon I could hold off no longer. I went to our room and stripped my clothes off. Well, make that Amy's clothes. I moved in front of the full-length mirror and stared at my reflection. Looking back at me was Amy! Well, sort of. Make that an Amy that had run full tilt into a brick wall, leaving her with squished boobs and lots of bruises. Yet again I thought "This is so weird!" After inspecting this Amy clone from as many angles as I could manage, I climbed back into the panties and bra, blouse and skirt. Then I padded barefoot to the kitchen to start preparing dinner. Amy was a little earlier than normal, and came bursting through the door calling "Honey, I'm home!" She rushed around looking for me, and found me sitting in the family room, reading one of her fashion magazines. She seemed as giddy as a schoolgirl, and said "Come here, you. I just have to see this!" She started dragging me to the bedroom. "Can't this wait till after dinner? It's almost ready." "Nope, I can't wait! I have been just dying to see you all day!" She started fumbling with buttons even before we got to the bedroom, and had me stripped naked only moments after we got there. Once again I stood clothing-free before the mirrored closet doors, turning this way and that, now on Amy's command rather than for myself. She then came up close and started inspecting the bruises and swellings. "You know, Sandy does pretty good work." "Hmmph. Couldn't prove it by me. I look and feel like mincemeat!" "Oh, come on, spoilsport. You knew it would be like this at first!" She started rubbing up against me, careful to avoid areas that were still tender. And I started to respond involuntarily. She reached down and gently stroked the only evidence of manhood left in the room, causing me to groan. She grabbed hold of my now firm handle and led me to the bed, and eased me down on my back. "Aren't I supposed to be wearing that bra still?" I managed to say. "Soon." She whispered, bending down to gently lick the male nipples perched atop the definitely unmale protrusions. She then blew on the moist places, chilling them, and causing delicious sensations to run through my body. I reached up and started unbuttoning Amy's dress. Apparently, I was too slow, and she stood back off the bed and quickly stripped off her clothes. Knowing that I still needed to take it easy, she gently started arousing me further, with a nip here, a lick there, a tickle, a light scrape of a fingernail. I was fully hard and throbbing by this point, as she slowly engulfed me in her amazing mouth. She backed off as she felt me start to stiffen in preparation for climax, and whispered "Not yet, little lady." She worked her way up my body with tender kisses, until her mouth met mine gently but passionately. While I was so occupied, she carefully swung her leg over my body, easing down on my manhood, causing me to moan into her mouth. When she hit bottom, she stopped, and rested against me for a few moments. Then she started a slow loving motion with her hips, enflaming me further. That movement seemed to go on and on and on, until I thought I would go mad with the pleasure. All the while Amy continued to kiss my frosty pink lips. Abruptly, Amy stiffened, and gasped, nearly sucking the air out of my lungs. Then her whole body seemed to vibrate, driving me over the edge, and I joined her in free fall. Even Amy collapsing on my tender chest didn't distract me from the intense pleasure. After an exhausted pause, I grinned at her and said "This lesbian lovemaking really turns you on, doesn't it?" She carefully moved off me, gave me a really sexy look through her lashes and murmured "Oh, it does, Jamie dearest. It really, really does!" Then paused, before adding "Just as long as my lesbian lover is my own sweet hubby! Otherwise, I only go for studs between my legs!" I swatted her bottom and growled (if Amy's voice could growl) "This better be the only stud I find between your legs!" "Oh, honey, you know you're the only one I will ever need!" We got up and I struggled back into the bra, but only added a really filmy, transparent robe, then we went to the kitchen to finish up dinner. After cleaning up from the meal, we retired to bed to snuggle, as I was still feeling the effects of the Sandy's artistry. For the next couple of days, the bruising went through its cycle of colors, and gradually started to fade. Amy started showing me through her wardrobe, explaining the coordination of colors to make up attractive outfits. Amy has quite a few clothes, but we realized that it would be stretched to have both of us wearing them for the next two months, so we made plans to go shopping to pick up a few more things. Besides, my feet were a size larger than Amy's. I could squeeze into her shoes, but I would be more comfortable in some of my own. Voice lessons continued, and each day my imitation of Amy got a little better, what with my practice during the day, and the coaching from Amy at night. The other thing we worked on in the evenings while we waited for me to heal was my hair. Amy did a little trimming, and combed it into a more feminine style so I could get along until we got it done professionally. All that week, Amy was insatiable in bed, and I was coming to believe that she really preferred me as a female partner (well almost female). That kind of bruised the old male ego, but the sex was great, so I tried not to let it get to me. Friday, September 4 Friday I went to see Sandy again. She checked me over and told me everything was coming along fine. I noticed as she examined me that, true to her word, my squished boobies were rounding out and becoming a very attractive female bosom. Saturday, September 5 Saturday I nervously got ready for my first real foray into the world as a woman. Amy showed me how to apply makeup, explaining how to hide the little bruising that was left, and that later I would learn the more normal style when no bruises are present. After she finished, I was looking at her face staring back at me. "Oh, my!" she whispered. I was too dumbstruck to even manage that much. The resemblance was uncanny. Even when she brought her face down next to mine, it was tough to tell us apart. After we recovered from that, Amy coached me through removing the makeup, then reapplying it several times until she was satisfied. I had no illusions I could repeat it without her help, but it was a start. We then dressed and headed off to Parkridge Mall on the opposite side of town, to minimize the chance of being seen by Amy's associates. Amy had made an appointment for me at the hair salon in the mall, so that was our first stop. I was really nervous as Amy led me under the lighted sign, LifeStyle, and into the shop, but she patted my arm and spoke quietly to me of her love and support, and I relaxed a little. Amy decided that since we would both go to the party as blonds, I might as well get my color changed today. She would wait until right before the party, so others would not see her that way. Also, it would give us a different look until then. Amy made all the arrangements, as I waited nervously. She arranged for a full body waxing, and asked to speak to the technician before things got started. Amy drew the girl aside and spoke quietly to her. The tech looked over at me occasionally, with her eyes growing wider as Amy talked. She nodded her head vigorously, and smiled at me as she came over to lead me to a private room. Amy said she would be back in 2 hours to see if I was ready, and before I knew it, she was gone and I was in the hands of strangers. In the room, Kim, as she introduced herself, handed me a pink robe, and asked me to strip completely. She saw the panic in my eyes, and spoke quietly to me, telling me Amy had told her what I was doing, and how great she thought it was that a husband would do that for his wife. She assured me that she didn't think I was weird, that she felt it was an honor to do this for me, and that no one else in the salon would be aware of my secret. This calmed me considerably, and I was able to get out of my clothes and into the robe after she stepped out of the room. An eternity and at least a dozen screams later, I exited that torture chamber, still in my pink robe. Everywhere below my neck, with the exception of a small tuft of hair above my genitals, my skin glowed pink and hairless. It was soft and smooth after Kim had massaged in the moisturizing lotion. I was amazed at the attention I received as various operators washed, colored, trimmed and permed my hair. They gave me a manicure and pedicure, applying false nails and a glittery red polish. They plucked my eyebrows (that hurt!), and talked me through applying makeup. Near the end, I felt a sharp pinch at each of my ears, and realized that I now sported a small gold stud in each earlobe. All the girls talked to me non-stop the whole time about many topics, men being major among them. I tried my best to answer back in Amy's voice, but was in a daze most of the time. When they finally finished, I was lead in front of a mirror to see the final result. I was speechless. I always knew that Amy was a beautiful woman. But the woman in the mirror was Amy and maybe just a bit more. I saw the real Amy behind me gaping at my reflection. This was so unreal. When we left, Amy led me to the food court so we could pick up lunch. I had a salad again, as Amy still wanted me to lose a couple inches around the waist. Amy had Teriyaki chicken which had me drooling though that was a much lighter lunch than I would normally order. As we ate, Amy could not stop talking about my looks. I blushed brighter with each superlative she used to describe me. Finally, I said "Enough already! I get the picture! Just remember, this is you that you're looking at, and when we get you into the salon, you will look exactly like this! So just quit complementing yourself!" That stopped her for a few minutes, with a somewhat shocked look on her face. She told me she had seen the Halloween Superstore that had opened temporarily in one of the vacant stores in the mall. She had inquired about Jeannie costumes. They had them, but in our size, they only had one of each of several different colors. Since we were going for the confusion factor, we would want two of the same color. The manager had checked, and found another red one at one of their other stores. Amy had picked up the one here, and put the other on hold, to be picked up on our way back across town. She blushed as she described the outfit. It was much as Barbara Eden used to wear for the TV show, but much more risqué! She didn't think she had ever worn something so revealing, except when she wore a bikini. That bumped my nervous level up a few notches. Next she led me into the forbidden land — at least for the male me: Victoria's Secret. She said we needed to pick out some matching sexy lingerie for us for the next couple months. Amy had gotten it into her head that we should dress stylishly, and mix in public as much as possible, at least during the last several weeks before the party. She wanted me to be comfortable in my role by the party. She wanted that night to be fun, not nerve-wracking. She picked out way more lingerie than I thought we would need, but she just told me to be quiet and enjoy the ride. She even got us several matching baby doll nighties in various colors. Next was a shoe store, where we bought some ladies walking shoes, flats in 3 colors, heels ranging from 2 to 4 inches in several colors, and finally some bright red 5 inch stiletto heals for the Jeannie costume. Amy bought herself a few pair to match mine, including the red ones for Halloween. I had to try on (and walk in) at least 20 different pairs of shoes before Amy settled on the shoes we bought. I nearly killed myself in the red heels! Amy made it look so easy. Next was an upscale department store. It seemed to me that Amy went wild there. She had me try on dozens of outfits. Tops, long skirts, mini skirts, dresses, jeans, shorts, the list seemed endless. Most of the clothes were bought in Amy's size, even though they would be tough for me to get on right now, as I still had to trim the waist a bit. She ended up getting us matching jeans that were cut so low I was sure that my pubic hair would be showing! When I pointed this out, Amy just grinned at me. And some of the shorts! I figured at least the bottom half of our cheeks would be on display! I think Amy decided to get back at me for the times I had tried to talk her into wearing more revealing outfits. I grinned mentally when I remembered that Amy would be left with all these sexy clothes when I became a man again. We ended up with a very short, very form fitting LBD, along with one just like it in red. They were cut very low in the front, and way lower in the back. No way to wear a bra with these dresses! The thought that Amy planned to take me out in public dressed in one of those dresses gave me a chill. From the jewelry department, she picked out several sets of earrings, then made me pick out several as well. The same pattern was repeated with necklaces, then with bracelets. Finally, Amy picked out a very feminine watch for me. We had already made several trips back to the car to drop off mountains of purchases, and my legs were feeling rather rubbery. It amazed me how Amy could just keep on going. She was a regular Energizer bunny! But at least she was MY Energizer bunny. As she had all week, Amy coached me on how to move, how to speak, appropriate hand gestures, all the things that women do different than men. It had been difficult at first, but by now, many of the mannerisms were becoming second nature. In a way, that worried me, as I wondered how long it would take me to return to male behavior. And I still had almost two months of living this way before the party! We finally made it home, and I was so tired that Amy did the grilled chicken breasts tonight, while I managed to throw a salad together. As we ate, Amy went over what we had accomplished so far, and what we had left to go. This was definitely shaping up to be the strangest two months of my life, and it seemed as if it would just keep getting stranger. That night in bed, the lovemaking was different. It was slow, and gentle. Lots of kisses and caresses, licks and nips, sucking and stroking. I never entered Amy that night, but we both reached synchronized, mind-blowing climaxes. Afterward as we cuddled, Amy told me that that was our first bout of real lesbian love. It would not be our last. Sunday, September 6 Sunday morning Amy showed me how to resurrect the hairstyle I had been given the prior day. Next was doing makeup as I had been shown in the salon. When Amy was satisfied with that, she had me remove what she called daytime makeup, and walked me through applying the more dramatic look needed at night. She pointed out that this was much the look we would try to achieve for the party. I had to practice that several times before she was satisfied. I got to spend most of the day in the highest heels I had, excepting the pair we were saving for Halloween. As the day progressed, and Amy had me moving around the house, my walking got better as my legs got sorer. By mid-afternoon, I just had to sit down. Amy let me sit for a while, then herded me into the bedroom, telling me to bathe, shave anything that might need it, and then get into the clothes she would lay out for me. I asked what was up, but she just replied with an enigmatic "More training." The hot bath with the aromatic bath oils felt heavenly, particularly to my aching calves. I was careful to keep my hair dry, as it takes some time to dry, and I didn't think we had the time tonight. I finally finished washing and dragged myself from the water. I walked into the bedroom stark naked, and found that Amy had set out one of our matched sets of sexy lingerie, black pantyhose, and a deep green knee-length dress, made of some fabric that would cling to my developing shape, and had a subtle sheen to it. I groaned as I saw the matching 4 inch pumps. I was not looking forward to more high heels today. I managed to do my makeup for evening, fix my hair, and get dressed without help from Amy, except for fastening the back of the dress. Amy wore a shorter midnight blue dress that clung above the waist, but hung full below. The fabric was the type that allowed the skirt to flare out when she spun around. I told her she was absolutely gorgeous. She told me she would tell me how incredible I looked except that it would feel like she was complementing herself! Without explanation she led me to the car, and I sat quietly as she drove across town to a quiet upscale restaurant. She left the car with the valet, and I could feel his eyes roaming over me as he helped me from my seat. Amy noted that I blushed so fetchingly. That only made my face burn hotter. As we entered the restaurant, Amy spoke to the maitre d', who led us to a table. As we approached, it was it was already occupied, and when we were close enough, Sandy stood to greet us. "My, you look amazing, Jamie." She said as she gave me a peck on the cheek. "Say something so I can hear your voice." "Hi Sandy. Amy didn't tell me we were meeting you tonight." "You look smashing too, Amy." As she repeated the kissing gesture with my wife. "You know, Jamie, if Amy hadn't told me about your hair color, I am not sure I could have told which of you was which." Turning back to Amy, she said "She is really coming along remarkably. Her voice, her walk, everything I have observed tonight is very well on the way to matching you! You are doing a fantastic job of transferring your grace and style to her." I blushed, and was becoming a little uncomfortable with Sandy's continued use of feminine pronouns. But then, I guess that is what I look like at the moment. If it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck… I'll just have to get used to it. We had a lovely dinner, and Sandy seemed more comfortable in my presence than any social setting that I could remember. But then, she hated men, and I couldn't see any men at our table. Well, maybe 'hated men' is not right. She seems to think they are great for sex and heavy lifting, but not much else. For a change from my customary salad, I had a delicious grilled fish with fresh steamed vegetables. Amy had the veal, and Sandy had me almost drooling over her petit filet. We did order a scrumptious chocolate cake to share for dessert, but I limited myself to just one taste. I was pretty full by that time anyway. The conversation was mostly between Amy and Sandy, which I didn't mind. It's not that they ignored me, but that they talked a lot about the medical group, so I had little to contribute. I soaked up what I could, thinking it may be useful cover at the party. When the topic strayed to fashion or makeup, I felt comfortable adding my comments occasionally. After all, I had been in women's clothes and makeup for a brief while. Besides, I had read lots of Amy's magazines. Any time the talk turned to men, I became very interested in what was happening in the open kitchen across the restaurant. Somewhere during the evening, I felt the call of nature, so I did the girl thing and asked Amy to visit the ladies room with me. Amy didn't respond quickly enough, because Sandy jumped right in and said she needed to visit there as well. So the two of us trooped off to no-mans land, which was going to be another first for me. We entered without incident, and I sought refuge in an unoccupied stall. I managed to figure out which parts of my clothing to pill up, and which to push down, and even remembered to sit while I did the deed. Pulling myself back together, I exited the stall and found Sandy refreshing her makeup at the mirror, so I joined her. Pulling my lipstick out of my purse, I quickly touched up my mouth. After putting it away, I noticed Sandy staring at my reflection. "What?" I said. "Oh, nothing. I just still find it hard to believe. The resemblance is uncanny. With a little more practice, and after Amy gets her hair done to match, I don't believe even I could tell you apart. Probably not even her own mother!" "Yeah, I know. Scary, isn't it." "No, actually, I think it's great. I think Amy could use a sister for a while, and I know this is making it far easier for me to be around you." "I'm glad. That's the whole point, isn't it?" I said. "Yes, that was the point. But do you ever wonder if it is maybe going too well?" Now I was puzzled. "I don't follow." She pursed her lips for a moment, then said "Do you ever feel that maybe this is right? That it is so easy for you to get into this because maybe this is the way it is supposed to be?" "No! Stop that! You're scaring me!" And I felt tears welling up into my eyes. I blinked quickly and tried to get myself back under control. I didn't want to ruin my makeup. Besides, I'm a guy! I don't cry! But that didn't stop the tears from trying to come. Sandy wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me close. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. But now I've caught a glimpse of what Amy sees in you. Maybe this is really going to work out for you and Amy and me. For Amy's sake, I hope so." I gave Sandy a quick one-armed hug and moved toward the door. She picked up her purse and followed. When we got back to the table, Sandy insisted on paying the bill, saying how much she enjoyed having an all-girl get-together like this. I just smiled, and we all moved toward the entrance. On the way home, Amy sensed there was something wrong, and asked. I didn't want to say anything, but she was finally able to get me to open up. I talked about Sandy's comments, and how it matched some of the thoughts I had had in the last couple days. And how scared I was that things would never be the same as they were when I was so happy in our love, before this challenge all started. I looked over and saw tears streaming down Amy's cheeks as she drove. I slid over next to her, and rested my head on her shoulder. I spoke soothing words, and spoke of my never-ending love for her. She sobbed and told me she had the same fears originally, but since I had been doing so well so far, she had shoved them to the back of her mind and started enjoying my transformation. She had found it thrilling, each step I took toward being her twin, and now, hearing my worries, she felt guilty about the fun she had been having. I reached up and kissed her cheek and said, "No, darling. That is exactly how I want you to feel about this. I want you to have fun. I want us to have fun. I have had a lot of fun with you so far, in spite of my worries. And I want us to succeed. I want your best friend to be my best friend. I have always liked Sandy, it's just that I haven't known how to handle her hostility. But now, with this insane masquerade, we have found a way. She has lost most of her hatred for me, and I think we can sustain that when I become your husband again." "Mmmmm. That sounds so good right now. As much as I have been enjoying our lesbian love affair, I can't wait to get my manly husband back again! I love Jamie, and I love James even more!" When we got home, I tried to show her that under all the paint and satin and implants, I was still the man she married, even if I didn't look like it. I think I got the point across pretty well. Amy didn't complain anyway. So that relieved both our fears a little, at least. Monday, September 7 I think Amy and I were both a little more comfortable with the situation after last night. I helped Amy get ready for work, which was a nice sharing experience. Something that was better now than before. But I didn't want to add up too many pluses. I didn't want to have any reason to regret going back to being James. After Amy was off, I checked in with work, and found the testing of my last work was progressing well. That is one of the great advantages of consulting: as long as your work gets done on time, you don't have to work set hours. In fact, it was working out great for this escapade, giving me the free time I need to pull this off. I decided to get out and exercise to help trim the last little bit off my waist. Donning one of Amy's T shirts, shorts, and my new walking shoes, I did some stretching, then took off around the neighborhood, to the local park. The sun was still quite warm these days, but it was early enough in the day so as to not be uncomfortable After about a half hour, as I followed the walking path through the park, I noticed a guy checking me out from a bench along the path. He was about my age, and dressed for exercise. As I approached, he rose and fell in step with me. This made me fairly nervous, but I tried not to show it. After a minute, he said "Hi, I'm Paul. I haven't seen you out here walking before, have I?" "Hard to tell. I haven't walked for some time now. Decided I needed to get in a little better shape." He looked me up and down critically, provoking a tingling sensation somewhere in my belly. How odd, I thought. "I think you look like you're in great shape just as you are!" My cheeks flushed, and I said "Not good enough to suit me." And stepped up my pace by several notches. Of course, he easily kept up with me. He had a much longer stride than I to match his greater height. I looked over at him suspiciously. I noted he was probably a little over 6 feet tall, broad shouldered, close cut very dark hair, regular featured face. Just the kind of guy many girls probably find very attractive. Fortunately, I'm not a girl. At least mentally. Unfortunately he did not know that, and kept trying to keep the conversation going. "So, you live close?" "Sorry, my mommy told me not to talk to stranger men." He gave me a sideways glance. "Good for her! Do you always listen to Mommy?" "Yup, always." I reversed course and started for home. Last I saw he was standing there shaking his head. It least he was a pretty nice guy. It was a little frustrating that as a woman I could not take my exercise in peace. On the other hand, it was kind of nice to talk to someone, even momentarily. Paul may have interrupted the walk I had planned on taking, but it was just as well, as I was a little tired when I got home. I went to the bathroom and stripped to take a quick shower. Once again, I was bemused by the reflection in the mirror over the sink. Almost two weeks now (well, part of that as a mummy), and it was still pretty strange. But then, I had over 20 years with my old face and body, so I guess it was understandable. I noticed something in the reflection, and looked down at my breasts for a closer examination. I noticed that the areoles seemed larger, and slightly puffy. The nipples seemed larger than my normal pencil eraser size. I brushed my fake fingernails across the enlarging buds, and watched in amazement as they swelled before my eyes. Oh, they did not jut out stiff and hard like Amy's do when aroused, but I could see a definite difference from before. I also felt a difference, as the light brush sent tiny bolts of electricity downward toward my tummy. I decided it must be another side effect of the hormones, as yet unmentioned by my two doctors. I knew women's breasts were much more sensitive than the vestigial bumps men had. Maybe this would turn out to be another plus to this fiasco. Maybe I would get to taste, and even keep this little bonus of femininity. I stroked the unfamiliar mounds on my chest some more, kneading then gently, causing more tingles to spread across my body. I kinda drifted in a very comfortable haze for a few minutes, then slowly roused to see that my decidedly unfemale part was standing up and taking notice of the delicious sensations I was creating. I decided that was enough for now, and climbed into the hot shower. I first washed my hair with Amy's flower scented shampoo, then worked her conditioner through it. Picking up a puff and adding shower gel, I started scrubbing my body. I quickly slowed down and became much more gentle as I noticed that my skin was now more sensitive than before, and my normal shower scrub just downright hurt. Likewise, on exiting the shower, I learned first hand why Amy was always patting herself dry. I picked up the clothes I had dumped on the bathroom floor to transfer to the laundry hamper, and only then realized how short and tight those shorts were, and blushed as I realized just why Paul had interrupted my walk. I slipped into one of Amy's shortalls, a pair of my new panties and a tube top for the rest of the afternoon around the house. I used a blow dryer on my hair. Fortunately, except for the golden blonde color and the feminine trim, my hair was much as I was used to taking care of it in the past. It was getting a little longer, and strangely seems softer and shinier than I remembered. We had decided I needed it as long as possible for the Halloween disguise. After a salad for lunch I tidied up the house a bit, dusting and cleaning the kitchen counters. I mopped the kitchen and bathroom floors. This is my normal routine during the slack times with my consulting. Kind of building up a credit balance on the housework to make up for the times I burn the candle at both ends trying to meet impossible deadlines. Amy has to take care of things pretty much by herself during those times. I went back to practicing Amy's voice with the tape recorder. As I listened, I thought I was getting pretty good. I would have to get Amy to record some more phrases this evening for me to practice. Next I went to practice hair and makeup. I was slowly getting better at it, and did not have to scrub the makeup off as frequently before making a successful attempt. Just for fun, each time I did the makeup, I tried a different shade of lipstick, just to see what difference it made in my look. I had just finished one pass at makeup, and was critically inspecting the result in the mirror when the doorbell rang. I hopped up and scurried to the door to see who it was. Only after swinging the door wide open did it occur to me that I was not a man anymore, and that I should take more precautions. Not that I was weaker or less capable of defending myself than before, its just that a man is less likely to be attacked in these circumstances because he is perceived to be better able to resist. Besides, many attackers are looking for something only a woman can provide. Fortunately it was just a delivery for Amy. I kind of giggled when I noticed how the delivery man was looking at me, which in turn caused my cheeks to flush. I thanked him for the package and quickly closed the door. The package was addressed to Amy, and was from someplace called the Glamour Boutique. Hmmmm. Must be some clothing Amy had found on the web, I thought. I set the box on the table in the entry and went back to the bedroom. Around 5 I went to the kitchen to start dinner, and got everything ready, so it would just take a few minutes to prepare when Any arrived. I opened a chilled bottle of white wine in the fridge, poured a glass and sat in the family room to wait. I heard the door open, and Amy set her purse on the table where I had placed her box. I then heard her going off to the bedroom, and just sat waiting for her return. A minute later I heard her calling for me to come and see. When I entered the bedroom, Amy was holding something behind her back, and had a big goofy grin on her face. "What?" I asked. "Come closer, I have some surprises for you!" Prewarned by the twinkle in her eye, I eased cautiously closer to her. "Which do you want first, left or right?" she asked. Since I had no clue what either was, I said right. She whipped out her right hand to reveal what appeared to be a lump of flesh-colored rubber. Being careful not to touch it, I looked it over, then looked a question at Amy. Her grin broadened. "It's a fake vagina." "Huh?" What on earth, I thought. "It's a high tech version of the gaff. It tucks your manhood away out of sight. And in this case, leaves behind what appears to all but the closest inspection to be a pussy!" I was flabbergasted! "And why do we need that?" She giggled. "All part of making you blend in. Besides, with this little bit of magic and your current other endowments, you can even wear one of my skimpiest bikinis! This is the closing weekend for the water park across town, and we are going to make a day of it!" "Um, Amy, I don't think I can do that. Come on, sweetheart, you were raised to be ready for this, but I've only been a girl less than two weeks. Amy, I just can't!" With that, a tear started trickling down my cheek, shortly followed by another, then more, then a flood. What was happening to me? I collapsed on the bed and Amy quickly crawled in beside me. "Shhh, honey. It's OK. Come on, baby, it alright. Shh." Amy held me, and stroked my back and soothed me till the torrent petered out and I slowly regained control. "It's OK, Jamie. Let it all out. Welcome to womanhood, honey. This is another side effect of those hormones you are taking. These mood swings will get easier to handle over the next couple weeks." When I was able to direct a watery smile to Amy, she pulled me up and said, "Come on, let's go eat that dinner you fixed. We can talk about all this later." We quickly grilled the fish and vegetables, and were soon sitting at the table eating a light supper. Amy told me about her day, and I told her about my walk, and meeting Paul. "Oh, ho! Paul, huh? Slipping into character pretty good, aren't we?" I blushed and said nothing. She said, "Just kidding, Jamie. I think it's great that you get out of the house on your own. Many of my tg patients have to wait months before they are willing to go out dressed." She grinned and giggled. "Of course, it probably helps a lot to know you're as pretty as me!" I chuckled, stuck out my chest, and said "Prettier!" Then I had to run for the bedroom. Amy caught me there, and started tickling me mercilessly. Of course, one thing led to another, and we were soon naked and seriously occupied for quite a while. I gasped as Amy stroked and massaged my super sensitive titties. She peered at them closely before I distracted her by sucking one of her nipples deep into my mouth. As we recovered and cuddled, I looked at Amy and asked "Do you really want to go to the water park this weekend?" "Definitely!" "Why?" "Because I love you, and I want you to enjoy this time as my sister, and experience everything!" "Ok." I said weakly. My eyes were downcast. Amy tilted my head up to look in my eyes. She kissed the tip of my nose and asked "Really?" I kissed her nose too. "Really!" We went back to the kitchen to clean up the mess we ran out on, and for me to take my customary evening pills. I then asked Amy about recording more phrases for my voice practice. Speaking in nearly her voice had become a habit, and neither of us really noticed anymore. She listened to my recorded lessons from today and made a few comments that I practiced, then set about recording more words and phrases for tomorrow. We spent an hour or so of companionable silence in the family room, Amy with her romance novel, and me with the Cosmo that was my reading assignment. Some of the stuff they print in there is just plain incredible. As in not credible. What self respecting gal would ever do something like that with a guy! We retired fairly early and snuggled together before drifting off to sleep. Tuesday, September 8 I awoke to find Amy watching me intently. "What?" "I just still find it unbelievable how you look. And how well you are taking all of this. You are such a wonderful man! I still cannot believe my luck in catching you." She said in a soft voice. "Catching me! I thought I caught you!" I paused, and a sad look came over my face. "But I'm not much of a man anymore." "James! You are all the man I need, or will ever need!" She giggled before continuing, "and all the woman, too." Another pause. "And you do both of them so well!" She pulled me against her and gave me a bear hug. "Thanks." I whispered into her ear, before blowing softly into it. "Ooo, stop that, or we will never get out of bed! Besides, there is another present I never got to give you last night." I looked at her, and she pulled a vivid red something with lots of strings and little bows from beneath her pillow. "This is something to help you tame that last two inches of waistline you need." "What is it?" I stared at it quizzically. "It's a corset, silly. This will help you suck it in and get that waist down to match my 23 inches. Come on, get up. Let me get you into this, and you can wear it around the house today. Later, maybe we can fit you into one of my impossibly small dresses and we can go out for dinner." She moved behind me and passed the contraption around my waist, and fastened all the hooks. It was slightly snug, extending from a bit below my breasts to down over my hips, but I couldn't see how it was going to trim 2 inches off my waist. Then she started pulling on the strings, which were lacings down the back. She kept working up and down the back of the corset tightening, tightening, until I felt like I was being cut in half. Then she told me to grab the top of the bedroom door and brace myself. I felt her knee in the middle of my back and she gave a tremendous heave. The blasted thing pulled in some more, and I was sure I couldn't draw any breath. Then she gave another heave, and quickly tied off the laces. Pulling out her tape measure, she pulled it around my waist and crowed, "23 inches! That is fantastic! You just keep on eating as you have, keep up the walking you started, and keep this on for the next few weeks, and you will be all set!" I finally managed to get enough breath together to wheeze "but I can't breath." Wheeze. "I think I am going to pass out!" "Oh, don't be such a pantywaist!" she giggled. "You'll be just fine. Just relax and take slow breaths. You'll get used to it!" "But I don't want to get used to it!" Amy just laughed as she went into the bathroom to get ready for work. I carefully slipped on Amy's transparent robe and went to fix coffee and breakfast. By the time Amy came out, I at least felt that I wasn't going to black out. "How can you expect me to wear this all day long?" She got a mischievous glint in her eye and smirked, "Well, if you can figure out how to take it off, be my guest." I looked at it and realized Houdini couldn't even have gotten out of this contraption! I had a pleading look in my eye as I kissed Amy goodbye, but she just giggled as she strolled out to the car and left for work. Today, my walk was considerably different. With the corset on, my posture was stiffly erect, and I wore much more concealing clothes as I didn't want to show it off to the world. I also couldn't shower when I returned, so I was careful to keep the pace such as to minimize sweating. Or is that perspiring, now that I'm a girl? I didn't see Paul today, thank god, nor did anyone else try to walk along with me. The day was looking up! That night we finally got around to investigating the gaff. I stripped in our room while Amy collected the necessary supplies. After reading the instructions, Amy fitted me into the internal sleeve, spread adhesive on the edges and mating surfaces, and carefully held it in place till the adhesive set. After closely inspecting her handywork, she dragged me in front of the big mirror. Looking back at me was a woman. A complete woman. There was nothing anywhere that said this was in any way masculine. I'm not sure how I felt right at that moment. Other than very confused. The rest of the week passed much the same. Thankfully, Amy let me out of the corset in the evening to bathe, but not long afterward she trussed me up like a Christmas goose again, and I found out what it was like to sleep in the corset. Oh, joy! One note, the gaffe survived soaking in the bath with flying colors. I made sure we removed it before we went to bed. I wasn't going to let anything get in the way of Amy's and my pleasure. Thursday, September 10 Amy and Sandy met again for lunch, as they did most Thursdays when one or the other was not tied up. As they had that fateful day two weeks prior when this whole insane scenario began. Amy was positively bubbling about the progress I was making in looks, behavior, and the way I was taking it all in stride. Sandy soaked up Amy's good mood, and smiled back at her. But inside she had the wickedest grin. With her background, she thought it was the greatest thing to see this happening to a man, and to have him willing, and apparently happily, changing himself into the next thing to a real woman was a real charge for her. But she knew she couldn't let on to Amy. She was, however, truly impressed with James for his attitude and humor. She thought that if he really became a woman, she could see her as a real friend. She was not so sure yet how it would play out if he went back to manhood. Be that as it may, she felt it was time to start pushing this to the next level. "Amy, it is so great to see you so happy! I think Jamie is making a fantastic effort! And she is so successful at everything so far!" She got a sly grin on her face. "So how is it being married to your twin sister? I mean it must feel like that, what with Jamie learning to talk, walk, and act just like you. So, you ready to keep her as a women for the next few years?" "Yes, I just find this so thrilling. She is such a good sport, and such a quick study." She turned thoughtful for a moment. "But I don't think I want to keep him this way. I love Jamie a lot, but I married James, and I love him like no other in the world!" Sandy caught Amy's pause, and just the hint of uncertainty, and thought there was definitely something there to work with. But she backed off that for now, and focused on her next baby step. "I'm glad for that. But with his training proceeding so well, what did you have in mind next. It seems like he is ready to move on to the advanced course!" Amy frowned. "You know, I hadn't thought this far ahead. I assumed it would take Jamie longer to reach this point, and that, with a little more polishing, was all I really planned before the party." She thought for a moment. "But you are right. He has made such excellent progress it seems a shame not to keep the momentum. There seems no limit on how deeply we can immerse Jamie in his womanhood!" Another pause. "But I really have no idea how to proceed. Any ideas?" Sandy appeared thoughtful. She had to be careful. She couldn't appear too anxious, or to have a too well thought out plan. Baby steps. "Well, he seems to have taken to the lessons so far like a duck to water. Maybe we need to generalize the education. So far, you have focused Jamie on very specific goals of imitating you. Maybe, in order to get the best imitation, you need to drop the tight focus, and just give Jamie a smattering of all the lessons other girls learned in their teens that poor Jamie missed out on." "Ok, sounds reasonable, but what?" Careful, now, Sandy. Tread lightly. "Well, one thing he will need at the party is to be able to interact with people, not just speaking and walking like you, but handling spontaneous situations. He will need to interact with both men and women, without your continual supervision. Hmmmm. I know. Lets take him out to a dance club tomorrow night. You know it's OK for us girls to dance with each other, and that will get him used to being seen in public." Amy wrinkled her forehead in concentration. "Seems reasonable." "And if any men see three beautiful unattached women and ask us to dance, so much the better." "I don't know about that, Sandy. I think that would make Jamie awfully uncomfortable. She is a pretty shy girl, you know." Sandy noted the feminine pronouns happily. "But Amy, if she is to pull of the masquerade at the party, she will have to dance with men. You always do. So she might as well get used to it early so it will seem natural to her as well as everyone else at the party." Amy's frown deepened. "You make it sound so reasonable, but I am not sure how Jamie would handle it." Sandy saw the opening and dove straight for it. "Well, you agreed it was good to get her used to being seen, and she would be comfortable dancing with you, so lets just go clubbing, take it slow and easy, and see how she reacts." "Well, OK." "Great! Why don't we meet at 'Rhinestone' at 8:00 tomorrow. Gotta run. Bye." "OK, bye." Amy said to Sandy's retreating back. Friday, September 11 Amy called me mid-afternoon and told me we were going out to eat at a nice restaurant tonight. She explained that I needed to get used to being seen as a beautiful woman in public. She added that she would be home earlier than usual so she could get me out of my corset to get ready. She arrived as promised and removed my personal torture device. Funny though, I hardly noticed it anymore. She shooed me to the bathroom to bathe and shave. She then pulled out the LBD and its red twin, along with complementary lingerie and my black and her red 5" pumps. She then ran to the hall bath and showered quickly to hurry the preparations. The bath oil made my skin feel so soft and smell so nice, and the powder left me feeling so smooth that I was positively giddy. I came out of the bathroom to find that Amy was already finished with her shower and applying her makeup. She paused to truss me back into the red corset, then glued the gaff in place. She didn't want to take any chances with unsightly bulges. I slipped into my lingerie and pantyhose while she finished her makeup. She helped me put my hair up in a sophisticated arrangement with a few loose tendrils framing my face. Then She quickly did her hair, while keeping an eye on my progress with the dramatic evening makeup. I was getting more capable at this, but Amy could still do better and finish in half the time. We then shimmied into our dresses and stepped into the heels. As I walked toward the mirror, I marveled at the progress I had made walking in heels these last two weeks. Amy came up beside me and we were awestruck by the vision in the mirror. What shone back at us were two lovely twins, one a golden blond in a revealing black dress that clung to every curve from shoulder to thigh, beside another with very dark hair and the same dress in red, clinging just as effectively to what appeared to be an identical set of curves. Neither of us could come up with any words that fit the moment. We didn't need to. We both knew how we felt, and how the other felt as well. We just silently picked up our purses and walked to the car. At the restaurant, the valet fell all over himself to help these two gorgeous ladies out of their car, and just stood and watched them walk in the door before parking their car. We had a lovely dinner. Conversation had always come easily between Amy and I, but with my change, it seemed even easier, and more meaningful. We sipped wine while we ate, and by the end of dinner, I had almost become comfortable with all the attention we received from the male customers and staff. Not a few of the females as well. Back in the car, I noticed we were not headed toward home, and asked Amy where we were going. She told me I'd see. We pulled up in front of one of the more popular dance clubs in town. I put my hand gently on Amy's arm and questioned her with my eyes. She said she had already told me I had to become comfortable with being seen in public, and I had done so well at the restaurant she was sure I would be fine here. I gave a resigned shrug. The scene with the valet was a repeat of the restaurant. We walked into the dim club, and Amy looked around till she saw someone waving at us. As we approached, I saw it was Sandy. She greeted us both with a hug and a peck on the cheek, then was signaling a waiter to take our drink order. Sandy was already working on some exotic looking drink that Amy and I both decided to try. We sat and watched the controlled chaos around us. The club was too loud to carry on a conversation, but Amy and Sandy leaned together occasionally to exchange some comment. By the time I started my second drink, I was getting used to the stares and attention of the men near our table. After a while, Sandy said we should get up and dance a little. I wasn't sure, what with the 5" heels, but Amy grabbed my arm and dragged me after Sandy. And so it was that I had my first opportunity to take part in that decidedly female ritual of the girls dancing together. At first I was very stiff, and very afraid I would twist an ankle or fall in my heels. After a while, my confidence level rose, and I started to enjoy the freedom girls have when they dance. After a couple songs, we returned to our table, to start our third drink. After a rest, Amy dragged me back to the floor. The fast song finished almost immediately, to be followed by a slow dance. Amy took me into her arms as if she were the man, and led me around the dance floor. Dancing backward, and in high heels made me a little clumsy at first, but soon I relaxed. As Amy and I are the same height, I was able to lay my head on her shoulder, and found myself very comfortable following her lead. After another fast dance, we returned to the table to find Sandy gone. We finally spotted here dancing with a tall handsome hunk. Just a few moments later, a waiter arrived with two more drinks. When we explained we hadn't ordered them, he pointed to a couple of men at a table across the room. I was about to send the drinks back when Amy picked up one of them and lifted it to our benefactors in a salute or greeting. As one, the men rose and started making their way toward us. "What are you doing!" I hissed. She looked at me a little shocked, and said "Why, shame on you! I am being polite! These gentlemen bought us a drink, the least we can do is say thank-you. Don't you think?" I grudgingly agreed, but scowled at her just the same. "Wipe that miserable expression off your face!" she told me, "or you will end up with frown lines." I tried, but not very successfully. "Just smile a little like I know you can, and be polite." The two men arrived about that time and introduced themselves as Jack, a very tall, slender but still muscular blond, and Kevin, broader than Jack, and about 6' tall. Amy motioned them to take a seat, much to my chagrin, introduced us as Jamie and Amy, and proceeded to thank them for the drinks. Jack leaned toward Amy so he could talk to her and be heard above the music. I sat and glowered at Amy until I felt a touch on the arm and turned to see Kevin trying to get my attention. When I turned to him, he lit up with the greatest smile. It just shone from his face, and I could not help but smile back at him. "That's better!" he told me. "This is a much better expression for the face of such a beautiful woman." I blushed a bright red, and didn't know what to say, so I just sat there and stared at that great smile. I jolted back from wherever I had drifted mentally to realize Kevin was speaking to me. "I'm sorry, I seem to have zoned there for a moment. What was it you were saying?" Kevin's smile got even bigger as he said "What a wonderful voice you have. How can you keep that all to yourself? I was just asking if you what you do for a living?" I tried to collect my thoughts. Best stick as close to the truth as possible, since remembering a made-up history could be a problem. "I am a computer consultant." I said shyly. "What about you?" "Oh. I am just a lower level manager for one of the tech firms here in town. Are you any good?" "Haven't had any complaints from my customers so far. Well, not many, that is." I was finding this conversation quite uncomfortable. I found it hard to look at Kevin as we talked, but occasionally he would flash that smile, and I couldn't help but return a flicker of one myself. I glanced over at Amy and Jack. They seemed to be doing about the same as Kevin and I, but Amy seemed much more at ease. So I made a determined effort to relax, and see the evening through. Once he saw I was relaxing, Kevin worked around to asking me to dance. I couldn't help it, I flinched, just a little. "No, I'm sorry. I've had a couple of really trying days, and Amy and I just came out to try to relax a little. I don't think I am up to dancing tonight. Maybe another time." I think he noticed me flinch, so he didn't push, for which I was grateful. Shortly after that I got Amy's attention, and suggested it was time we get home. Seeing the strained expression on my face, she made our excuses to Jack and Kevin, thanked them both again for the drink and the company, and we left. The relief from the tension came as soon as we got into our car. I felt drained, and slumped in my seat as Amy drove home. "It wasn't as bad as all that, was it honey?" Amy queried as she drove. I thought a while before answering. "I guess not, but I found it very difficult in there, Amy. You have been a beautiful female all your life, so you know how to do that kind of thing. I have had only two weeks, with virtually no social interaction with men. I just didn't know what to do, and it made me incredibly nervous." "Oh, Jamie. I am so sorry. I should have taken it a little slower, I guess. It just seemed that this was a good way to get more ready for the party. I promise, we will slow down. We still have several weeks before Halloween." We got home, cleaned off the makeup, removed and hung our dresses, and tossed our lingerie in the hamper, but Amy hadn't removed the corset. When she started stroking my mostly bare body, I asked about it, and she reminded me I needed to get my waist a bit trimmer. I gave a resigned, theatrical sigh, and Amy pushed me down on the bed, told me to stay, and sashayed her nude body into the closet. In moments she returned, in the process of fastening a white version of my corset around her waist. I didn't even know she had a corset! "Here, come up here and help me lace this up, sexy lady!" This should be fun, I thought. I noticed that she didn't complain as I tightened, and retightened. Trying to shame me, I guess. When I had finished, she whipped out her tape, and crowed, "Aha! Only 20". Got you beat again!" And grinned at me as she pushed me back onto the bed and proceeded to ravish me. Just us two lesbian lovers, dressed only in matching red and white corsets. Saturday, September 12 Saturday was spent around the house. We managed to sandwich several sessions of steamy sex in amongst the practice sessions with voice, gestures, walking, makeup, hair styling, and clothing selection, as well as a couple baths to wash off the sweat and fluids of our passion. I must have ended up in a half dozen complete outfits, each including appropriate makeup, lingerie, and hairstyle. About 6 pm I was examining the beauty in the mirror, casually clad in painted on jeans, a tight red tube top, and leather boots with 4" heels. After Amy looked me over, she suggested we go out to eat, someplace casual so I could get more comfortable being seen. I agreed as long as she would agree to no men! We selected a western style bar-b-q place that we enjoyed. We received a lot of appraising looks from both men and women, but I seemed to be getting used to that. It didn't bother me nearly as much as it had. Seems like Amy's strategy is working some. And tomorrow threatened to be a doozie of a test! End of part 1 of 3 Author's note: I try as hard as I can to minimize the grammer errors, misspellings, incorrect word forms, etc. as I know how much these distract me from enjoying the stories I read. I hope I have been reasonably successful. If not, please let me know! And if anyone wants to volunteer as an editor, any help will be greatly appreciated.
Trick or Treat? By: Enigma Part 2 of 3 Sunday, September 13 The day dawned bright and clear. The outlook was for above average temperatures. Despite my misgivings, I was looking forward to getting out, and a water park sounded like great fun. The laid-back experience last night had settled my nerves, and I was feeling more confident. Amy lived up to her threat as she handed me a very skimpy patriotic red, white and blue bikini. I looked at it and decided I might look more demure if I was stark naked! "Amy!" She just grinned and held up the bikini she would be wearing, which was at least as revealing, in a rich emerald green. Amy helped me paste the gaff in place, then I got into the bikini to make sure my fake parts were either covered or looked real. Amy approved the look with a huge grin. I covered the suit with really short shorts, and a halter top that tied below my boobs. I loved Amy showing off her body. Now I got to do it for her! We tossed some towels in a beach bag, added some panties for after and a couple tubes of suntan lotion, donned our sunglasses, and headed out. The ride to the park was uneventful, apart from the appreciative looks we got from men along the way. Being the last day of the season, the parking lot was pretty full when we arrived, and I knew there would be a big crowd all day. We found a shady spot on some grass to spread out towels and park our stuff. Amy quickly stripped down to her bikini. I nervously looked around before slowly following suit. I noticed several high school aged boys were having trouble staying on course as they walked past. I pretended not to notice, but gave my hips a little extra shimmy as I worked the shorts down, and hid a grin. But Amy noticed, and giggled at me. That kind of set the tone for the day. As we roamed the park, trying the various water attractions, I watched Amy and tried to imitate her actions. She was not being particularly flirty, but she sure wasn't hiding her body, either. Occasionally Amy would notice me observing and imitating, so she would spice things up a bit for a few minutes, to see if I would reciprocate. At first, I was too shy, but as the day wore on, I loosened up, and by late in the afternoon, whenever Amy put on one of these shows, I would try to top her, without being too brazen. Several times during the day, we worked the suntan lotion into each others body. I really enjoyed the feeling of stroking the lotion over all of Amy's exposed flesh. I loved the feel of her hands all over me, too. Sometime in the afternoon, when Amy picked up the lotion bottle, a man sitting with a friend near us offered to apply the lotion for her. She quickly glanced at me, and when I didn't immediately react, she grinned and turned to him saying "Sure." So he and his friend came over and introduced themselves as Peter and Jacob. Do all of these pairs of hunks get turned out of the same molds? This could just as well have been Jack and Kevin from the other night. Amy lay down on her tummy, and Jacob squirted some lotion in his hand, and started smoothing it over Amy's back. He worked gently from her ankles working upward, massaging the lotion into Amy's tanned skin. I heard Peter clear his throat, and tore my eyes away from my wife to see what he wanted. He motioned for me to lie down beside Amy. I glanced quickly at her, then shrugged my shoulders and did so, turning my head toward Amy so I could keep an eye on Jacob's wandering hands. Soon I felt Peter start on my back as well. It was so weird! This was so different than having Amy smooth the lotion on me. Peter used his big strong hands to really work the lotion into my skin, and to work the tension out of the muscles at the same time. I let out a little sigh, and let my eyes drift shut. He worked upward, and seemed to spend a little too much time when he reached my upturned bottom, working around the edge of the all too scarce material of my bikini. I started to squirm a little, and tense, so he quickly moved on. As he got to my upper back, I could feel him sliding his hands up under the thin string of my bikini top, then suddenly it was undone and moved off to the side. I flinched slightly, but Peter seemed oblivious, and just used the extra access to make sure he covered my back evenly, working up to my shoulders, and then down first one, then the other arm. As he worked down the arms, he 'accidentally' brushed against the sides of my breasts, but I couldn't tell if it was intentional. He didn't take further advantage, just continued his steady progress, so I chose to ignore it. When Peter finished, he tapped me on the shoulder, and I looked up at him to see what he wanted, remembering to keep my chest pressed to the ground so I wouldn't lose my unfastened top. He motioned for me to turn over. I glanced at Amy to see she already had, and that Jacob was working his way up her long lithe legs. I reached behind me to retie the bikini, but Peter brushed my hands aside and did it for me. I think he was hoping I would forget. Peter had started working up my legs as well, when I heard Amy say "Thank-you, Jacob, I think I can finish now." I looked over and saw that Jacob was getting a mite close to treasure land, but Amy was reaching for the bottle of lotion. Jacob gave it to her, and sat back on his haunches to watch Amy finish the job. I did the same with Peter when he came too close for comfort. We finished our task under the watchful eyes of Jacob and Peter. When we finished, Amy thanked them again, and they replied that it was their pleasure. Peter then suggested they buy us an ice cream cone, and Amy accepted. Each guy pulled their respective lady to her feet and guided us to a nearby building with their hands in the small of our backs. I was uncomfortable with that, but since Amy allowed it, I did too. After ice cream, they suggested walking around the park together to try a few of the rides. Amy agreed, but when they tried to take our hands, we demurred, and Amy and I walked hand-in-hand between them. We tried several slides, often with Amy and I sharing a mat or inner tube, but the guys managed to maneuver us into riding with them on a couple. I thought it would be very uncomfortable to have Peter's arms around me as we rode the slide, but strangely, it was not too bad. On the super-fast slide, we had to ride individually. They really should put a warning sign up on those rides, because I popped out of my top when I hit the pool at the bottom. I had an embarrassing few moments as I tried to get myself covered again, and blushed brightly at the round of applause from the crowd around the slide. I was mortified, and wanted to run and hide, but Amy grabbed my hand and hugged me, then we walked slowly away, with Peter and Jacob following. We had spent a long time in the sun, so we said our farewells to the boys, collected our belongings, and headed out to the car. Monday, September 14 Monday, I once again helped Amy prepare for work. She had me do her hair for her, and I suggested a different blouse to go with the skirt she had chosen. She looked at me and smiled. "We'll make a lady out of you yet, girlie!" I just grinned back. At least some parts of this were really fun! After Amy left for work, I checked in with work, and found that testing had turned up a few flaws in my work. I spent the next several days buried in my code, figuring out where I went wrong, and developing a fix for the problem. That didn't leave me much time for anything else. I had the revised code finished and tested to the best of my ability by Thursday afternoon. I did find time each morning to take a break for a walk. After all, I still had a couple of inches to work or diet off before Halloween. Tuesday, September 15 On Tuesday's walk I came across Paul sitting on the same bench as before, and once again he rose and started pacing me. "Hello again. Nice to see you out again. I haven't noticed you out for the last week." I smiled a little shyly, and answered "Nope, it's been a pretty busy week. I only walked one other time last week, and then again yesterday." Paul smiled, and said "I see we're making progress here. Last week I was a strange man, and now I must be a friend, otherwise you wouldn't be talking to me. Remember mommy's orders!" He was right. I was making progress. Just over a week ago I had nearly run for my life when a stranger talked to me. And look at me now. I returned a crooked grin and said "Well, maybe not a friend yet, but at least a little bit less strange!" "What, me strange?" and cackled with a mad scientist laugh and a really twisted expression on his face. I couldn't help it, I giggled. "That's better." He said. "You really should try to smile more. Don't want any frown lines marring that pretty face, now, do we?" "Oh, my heavens, we couldn't have that! But don't worry, this is just a borrowed face, so we don't have to sweat that particular problem. My fairy godmother will be taking it back soon." "Huh?" "Oh, nothing. I was just proving that I was even stranger than you!" "It will take a lot more than that to make that particular proof!" was his reply. "So what is it you do that allows you to be out walking this time of day?" he asked. Again, Jamie girl, stick to the truth when possible! "I am a computer consultant, and right now I am in a lull between phases of a contract. And what is it you do? How is it you can be out here now?" "Huh? Oh, I'm one of those hotshot desk jockeys for SammaTech, downtown. I have an agreement with my boss that I have to keep my hours under 80 a week, unless we are in a bind. That often lets me have free time in the mornings. Just your typical workaholic, trying to keep in a little bit of shape." I gazed intently up and down his hard body. "Looks like you do OK!" I smirked. We continued around the park, chatting about inconsequentials, me eventually too short of breath to talk much, but Paul having no problem. I envied him his fitness. When we got to the place I had to split off on the path to return home, I told him goodbye. He asked if he would see me out walking again, and when. I answered "Oh, maybe." When I got home, I stripped down to the unremovable corset that I was hardly noticing any more. I was also wearing the gaff to get used to it, and to show the right body lines under my walking clothes. Since I couldn't bathe, I gave myself a sponge bath to hold me till Amy got home. I walked every morning that week, but only saw Paul one other time. That day the conversation came even easier. Well, I mused, I guess I really am making some progress. Thursday, September 17 By Thursday afternoon, I had my work to the point I was ready to turn it back to the testers, but decided I could wait for morning. I cleaned myself up, applied makeup in the sexiest way I knew how, donned a lacey black bra and panty set, garter belt, and black stockings. I covered it with the sheerest robe Amy had, and went to the kitchen to fix a romantic dinner for my wife. When she walked through the door, I was waiting, and pulling her to me, breast to breast, I gave her the most passionate kiss we had shared all week. "Mmmmm. That was nice! Wow, look at you! Sexy!" So I repeated the kiss. "So what's the occasion?" "Oh, I've just been too tied up all week fixing my coding problem to pay you the attention you deserve, so I want to make it up to you." "OK." And she gave me one of those searing kisses in return. "Let's eat." "Later." She said, and tugged me toward our bedroom. When we got there, I told her to stand still, then proceeded to slowly open buttons, and remove bits of clothing, stroking each inch of revealed skin as I went. As I knelt and removed her pantyhose, I could smell her arousal. Amy was already breathing rapidly, whispering to hurry. But I refused to be rushed. When I removed her bra, I caught teasingly at her jutting nipples with my teeth, evoking a moan from deep in her throat. I lavished attention on her beautiful breasts for a while, causing her to shiver. I suddenly sucked one nipple and as much of the breast as possible into my mouth, lashing the nipple with my tongue. At the same time I tweaked and lightly twisted her other nipple. Amy gasped, and shuddered through an orgasm. I helped her remain standing, still pleasuring her breasts, until she came down from her high. I kissed my way down her body to her now soaked panties, her only remaining clothing. Continuing to stroke and lightly brush her body, I eased her panties down and had her step out of them. I kissed back up her legs, the front, the sides, the sensitive flesh on the inside of her thighs. She spread her legs to afford better access. When I reached her love nest, I attacked, delving deeply between her nether lips, then sweeping forward across her clit, only to return and repeat. After a minute or two, she again exploded into climax. This time she could not remain upright, and I caught her as she slid bonelessly toward the floor, sweeping her up and onto the bed. I lay beside her for a while, touching here, kissing there, scratching lightly elsewhere, trying to prolong her euphoric feelings. As she roused, I felt her had start to stroke my leg. As she recovered more, her hands gained momentum, until both were engaged and racing across any part of my body she could reach. She reared up and slammed me on my back on the bed, then ripped my panties off, swung across me, and impaled herself on my raging hard-on. She moved like a wild woman, up and down, side to side, back and forth. She froze and shuddered through her third orgasm, then started bucking furiously again. I could not take it any more, and erupted inside her, emitting squeaks and moans. When I had finished, and was just starting to soften within her, she came again, for the longest time. Then she collapsed on top of me. We both lay in a daze for a few minutes while our labored pulse and rasping breathing slowed. Amy pushed herself up so she could look down into my face, keeping my limp member within her. "I don't know what it is about you like this that turns me on so much." She mused quietly. "Whatever it is, I wish we could bottle it to use when this is over." "So you kinda like this, huh?" "Yes. Oh, god, yes. A million times yes." I pouted sexily "Maybe you don't want me to go back! Maybe you want to keep me as your sexy slut forever." She grinned at me. "I don't know, sounds like maybe you're the one that wants to stay a sexy slut, if you ask me!" I shuddered beneath here and said "Don't you even think it!" "Come on, lets go eat that dinner you made for us, then maybe I can get another crack at you tonight while I still have you as my sexy lesbian." I slipped my panties back on, and she donned a similar robe to mine, without lingerie, so I continually got tantalizing glimpses of breast, pussy, and delightfully rounded derriere. We ate a romantic, only slightly overdone, dinner by candlelight, sipping chilled wine, talking about us, our days, this challenge, whatever topic came to mind. We touched hands across the table, and gazed into each others eyes. After the chocolate dipped strawberries for dessert, we just left the mess for the morning and once again retired to our room. We lovingly stripped each other until the only clothing between us was my red corset. We touched and kissed, licked and tweaked, nipped and caressed, gently bringing us from our earlier mild arousal to nearly fever pitch. Amy lovingly led me to the bed and eased me down onto my back, with my feet resting on the floor. She slowly knelt between my legs, murmured "My turn." to me, and hungrily sucked my stiffening tool into her mouth. Her pace was slow at first, licking around, side to side, down nearly to the base and back up. She slowly brought my aroused member to steel hardness. Speeding up slightly, she continued to minister to me until she felt me stiffen, then backed off, kissing the tip, my thighs, my stomach, and moving up to suckle my breasts, letting my urgency fade, but keeping me frustratingly aroused. My nipples were so much more sensitive that her loving almost pushed me over the top anyway, but she recognized my labored breathing and moved on to other exquisite tortures. After a time, she moved slowly back down, once again engulfing me, and repeated the process. Any time I tried to touch her, to give her pleasure, she gently brushed my hands aside, saying "Not now, now it's my turn." She repeated this four more times, each time pushing me to the edge, then backing off. Each time I begged more desperately for release, but she continued to torment me. Finally, the last time, when I expected her to back off again, she did not, continuing to enflame my cock until I exploded in her mouth. She stayed with me, licking, sucking, squeezing, until I softened. She then crawled up me and kissed my painted lips greedily. Her tongue invaded my mouth, and then was followed by my come that she hadn't swallowed! She was feeding me my own come! But I was too drained, yet still aroused, to protest, and just swallowed what she gifted me with. Such a strange flavor for a bodily fluid, tangy, slightly salty, not at all like what I tasted from Amy. Not unpleasant, though. Amy finally ended the deep kiss, pulled back to look at me, and said "Now you are almost a woman. Welcome, my love." After snuggling a while, we both rose, Amy removed my corset, and we showered together. After patting each others various parts, erogenous and otherwise, dry, and dusting with scented powder, Amy once again bound me, this time with her white corset, as my red one was long overdue for washing. Amy pulled out the tape measure, and told me "You are now the proud owner of a 21" waist." The corset didn't even feel uncomfortably tight anymore. Friday, September 18 After Amy was off to work, I cleaned up the dinner mess from the prior night, then spent an hour packaging and transmitting my code updates back to the test group. That left me at loose ends for the day. After that a walk — I made the circuit twice today, so I guess my walking was doing some good. Another sponge bath, and I attached the gaff, added simple lingerie, pantyhose, and dressed in one of Amy's skirts and blouses that I liked. Then, I drove across town to Parkridge Mall again. As I window shopped, I looked at my longer hair, and thought it was time to return for a touch-up. I stopped in and asked if Ellie, the girl I had seen a couple weeks ago, had any openings today. I said I also wanted another full body waxing. I was showing some hair regrowth after the last one. It was finer, but I still wanted it removed. Consulting the book, the receptionist told me I could get in at 2:00. Since I had planned to spend the day at the mall anyway, I took it. I cruised the mall, looking in windows, occasionally entering a shop, soaking up the 'shopping experience' that is so much a part of modern womanhood in America. I was doing this for Amy, and for the challenge, and I did not expect to enjoy it, only endure. But as time passed, I found it wasn't so bad. I found myself paying closer attention to some items, then picking some off the racks to look at. At noon, I had a salad (what else?) in the food court, and then surprised myself by trying on a dress that caught my eye in the first shop I stopped at afterward. It was a brilliant aqua color, had a scoop neck, was supposed to be tightly fitted around the midsection, but was loose over my corset. It had a full skirt that fell beautifully to swish around my legs. Unfortunately, with the corset, the dress was too loose around the middle. I decided to buy it anyway, assuming it would fit pretty well without the corset. Well, in for a penny, etc. Since I had bought the dress, I knew I didn't have any shoes to match, so that was the next stop. I had to try three stores before I found a pair of shoes the right color. They were slingbacks with 4" heels. I could have done with a lower heel, but what can you do. There just weren't many shoes in that color. By then it was time for my appointment. When I entered, Kim guided me back to the private room I remembered for the pain I had survived within. This time was much less painful, as there was not nearly as much hair, and it was finer. Kim rubbed moisturizer all over my body again, and I tried my best to suppress the moans as she massaged it into my breasts. She remembered me from the time before, and complemented my on the way my breasts were filling out. I looked at them and realized that they were looking bigger and better. Wearing the provided robe and my lingerie, I was led up front to one of the stations and seated in the chair. Ellie asked me what I had in mind. I told her other than touching up the color, I didn't know for sure. I wanted to try something different, something fairly easy to care for, but I needed to keep as much length as possible for the "I Dream of Jeannie" costume I had for Halloween. She fingered my hair, and gushed about how great I should look in a costume like that. I was sure hoping so, after all the effort we had gone to to get me into it! She shampooed my hair, and touched up the darker roots. Fortunately, my natural hair color is not too far off this shade of blonde, so the roots didn't stand out, but still! Amy was going to have a real challenge, what with her very dark brown tresses. As Ellie worked, another operator arrived to work on my nails. After discussing it, she removed the old false nails that were hardly longer than I normally wore my own nails. She replaced them with a longer set that reached about a half inch past my fingertips. Amy hadn't mentioned it, but I knew I would have to work up to the ¾"nails she was accustomed to. On a whim, I had her finish my new fingernails, as well as my toenails in a color to match my new dress. To finish up, they did my makeup again, flawlessly as before. After they finished their magic, I dressed in my new purchases, placing the old clothes in the shopping bag, then pulled out my cell phone. I caught Amy just before she was leaving her office. I proposed meeting her at a restaurant we both enjoyed, and it took very little effort to convince her. I went to the front desk to settle the bill, including a nice tip, then left the shop, thanking the friendly people who had made me look so beautiful, and headed for the car. I arrived before Amy, and stood waiting for her near the valet station. Even with the ill-fitting dress I wore, I thought the young valet was barely keeping his tongue from dragging on the ground. It felt kind of good having that effect on men, after being on the drooling side of the fence for most of my life. Amy didn't notice me when she pulled up, though how she could miss the brightly colored dress, I'll never know. I caught up with her as she walked in the door, and whispered we needed to visit the ladies before we were seated. Safely inside, I told her of my problem as she gaped at the remanufactured woman that only a short time ago was her husband. We entered the handicapped stall, and she helped me remove the corset that was obstructing the fit of the dress. Once it was removed, and the dress refastened, the fit was fantastic. I had hoped it would be. Amy stood back and looked at me in wonder. "Where, oh where has my husband gone?" she whispered. I think I saw a tear glisten in her eye, so I rushed to her and enveloped her in my arms. I whispered back "Oh darling, I am right here, always right here. You may not recognize me right at the moment, but just close your eyes and feel the love I wrap you in, and you will know for sure." We clung to each other a few minutes before she held me back and said "Yes, I feel it, now I know exactly where my husband is!" We exited the restroom and spoke to the maitre d'. Soon we were led to a secluded booth where we could talk privately, and exchange loving looks and touches without alerting the dyke patrol. It was a thoroughly enjoyable meal. We talked about my shopping trip, and the things I bought. Alright, it wasn't much, only a dress and shoes, but Amy was amazed anyway. Saturday, September 19 Having slept for the first time in a while without the corset, I slipped out of bed while Amy still slept, and soaked for a long time in a hot bath laced with scented bath oil. Amy was still asleep when I returned to our room, so I quietly dressed in the really low cut jeans and a vivid blue crop top. This left an awful lot of skin showing in my midsection! Out of curiosity, I used Amy's tape measure, and was shocked when my uncorsetted waist was only 22 inches! That's an inch less than Amy's! Well, somewhere between the diet, the walking, and the corset, something had certainly done the job. Hmmm, I guess hormones could factor in there somewhere, too. I crept out to the kitchen. I considered making Amy a big breakfast, but after exceeding my waist goal, I wasn't taking any chances about putting inches back on. So I whipped together a light and lean breakfast, bagels, fresh fruit with low fat yogurt, and coffee. Amy wandered in about the time the coffee finished, and we sat to break our fast. When Amy was dressed, we set off to pick up some groceries as the larder was getting pretty bare. Amy had chosen the same jeans as I, and a crop top like mine, only pink. Well, since we looked like twins, why not dress like twins for some occasional fun? Grocery shopping as a pretty girl is an experience. The stock boys can't do enough to help, and strange women just start talking about the most incredible things — man troubles, periods, all sorts of things I would never have thought of discussing. Amy and I split up to fetch some of the items we needed. As I movind down an aisle toward the front of the store,I heard someone calling Amy. I hadn't realized my wife was in this part of the store, so I looked up to see who was talking to her. It turned out to be Sally, our next door neighbor, and she was talking to me! "Oh, I just love that hair color, Amy! When did you decide to change it? And have you lost some weight?" I was at a loss for words, but finally managed to recover. Being careful to stay in Amy mode I answered "Oh, about 2 weeks ago, and yes, I think, a little. So how have you been, Sally. Obviously, we haven't talked in the last two weeks," pointing to my hair, "So what have you been up to?" I didn't really need to worry about my Amy impersonation, it was pretty engrained now. "Well, I've been out of town, a little holiday with my boyfriend. I just love that color, but I don't think you should be losing any more weight, you're too thin as it is." "Well, the weight loss is not a long term goal. It and the hair are for an elaborate costume I have for the big costume party at the office." Then I noticed Sally wasn't really listening. Her eyes were huge, and getting larger as she peered over my shoulder. I turned to see Amy coming up the aisle behind me, absorbed in reading a product label, so she hadn't noticed I was talking to anyone. "Oh! Oh! Um, who are you!" Sally shrieked. Amy snapped her head up, and her eyes got pretty large as well when she saw me talking to our neighbor. She walked up beside me, desperately trying to think what to say. Sally just stood there looking back and forth from one Amy to the other. I just had to giggle at the expression on her face. "Alright, what's going on here!" she demanded. Since I figured this was Amy's show, I just kept quiet and waited to see how she would explain this one. She opened her mouth to speak, but then closed it again. Then tried and failed a second time. Then finally, she grabbed onto an idea she thought she could run with, and got her mouth in gear at about the same time. "Sally. Um, I can explain this. I think." Sally broke in and said "Who are you anyway, and why do you look and sound like Amy here!" gesturing to me. I choked back a laugh, and Amy glared at me. "No, Sally, you've got it wrong. I'm Amy." "You're… Amy? But… But… Well then, who the heck is she?" Sally stuttered. Yeah, who the heck am I, I thought. What do you say to that, oh wife of mine! "Um, gee, Sally, can you keep a secret? I mean really keep it? Until after Halloween?" "Why?" "It's just really, really important to me. It's a joke that I want to play on my friends at the office Halloween party." "Oh, I get it! You brought in, like, your twin sister and you want to fool people at the party, right?" Whew. Thanks Sally! "Yeah, that pretty much sums it up. Now can you promise to keep my secret until after the party?" "Sure. No problemo! Anything I can do to help?" "No, thanks. I think we have everything pretty much under control. If I think of anything I'll be sure to let you know, though!" "Boy, the resemblance is really amazing. You guys really had me going there for a while. I thought you were Amy, ha ha. That's pretty rich. Um, what was your name again?" "Jamie." I piped up. "My name is Jamie." "Hey, that's pretty cool. Jamie and Amy. Ha ha, that's good!" Amy cut in "Great to see you, Sally. We really have to run. Remember, this is a secret!" And we walked toward the checkout, leaving Sally chuckling and shaking her head. We got home and put away the groceries, then fixed a light lunch of grilled chicken on a salad. I didn't tell Amy about my waist, and after lunch I asked her to lace me up again. I was giddy with my success, and wanted to see if I could make any more progress with respect to my waist. Maybe I was becoming anorexic. Maybe it was just vanity. Who knows, I was a woman now, and I've never understood them! After I was cinched up, I traded my tube top for a longer blouse that came down to cover the top of my low riders. More importantly, it hid my corset. Amy did some laundry while I did some housecleaning. That pretty much filled the afternoon. Amy spent much of the day doing an intense critique of everything I did, occasionally pointing things I did different than her, and helped me correct them. Little by little I was becoming Amy. We had always been compatible in our thought patterns, likes and dislikes. Now, it seemed we were coming much closer to identical. I still had "a major flaw" though, in my Amy imitation. That was an extra something between my legs. That night, Amy failed miserably trying to instruct it how to be just like Amy's counterpart. But we sure had a heck of a lot of fun while she was trying! Sunday, September 20 Sunday, the weather was cooler, so we drove downtown, dressed similarly in longish shorts, halter tops, and walking shoes with short white socks. We found a place to park and strolled around, enjoying watching people, and being watched. This beautiful girl thing could become addictive! Have to watch out for that. But it was lots of fun provoking reactions from the guys, checking them out checking us out. It was fun to see their looks on seeing nearly identical twins, one dark and one blonde. And to feel their stares on my bum when they think I don't know. And my growing boobs. And that well hidden part that only appears to be what they think it is, thanks to my gaff. Lunch at a sidewalk café extended our time of seeing and being seen. After lunch we browsed a few of the small shops, but didn't buy anything. Didn't see anything we just had to have, and didn't want to carry anything extra with us. We returned home to have a light supper of grilled orange roughy, fresh steamed, deliciously seasoned vegetables, and (of course) salad. Apparently, I am now a salad junkie. At least, that seems to be about all I eat any more! We were both pleasantly tired and retired early. I still slept in my corset, and had amusing dreams of tiny corseted waists and confusing things women do. Did it involve men? Naw, couldn't have. Last I checked, I was a guy, and guys don't dream like that about guys. But then again, maybe I hadn't checked well enough in the last few weeks! Monday, September 21 It had taken me months to develop and perfect the code for this last phase of my contract, but now I was fairly certain it was done. Or done as much as software ever is! So now, the last step before moving on to the next big chunk of work was to provide final documentation and a phase wrap-up. I figured I could do the job pretty well this week, then take a break till after Halloween, when things should be getting back to normal. Whatever normal is. Don't think I am even sure anymore. I dove into the task, surfacing only rarely, intent on having this done. I actually made it by late Friday. So late that Amy was sound asleep, so I missed my nookie that night, as I had nearly every night this week. Still intent on toning my waist further, I wore a corset full time, except to bathe. When I found time to eat, I kept it healthy, instead of the junk food that was my mainstay during these peak load periods. I also broke for a walk midmorning every day. It helped me clear my head. One of those days, Paul was there again, and we had a long, comfortable talk for the whole two circuits of the park path. I was coming to trust Paul now, maybe with too little real evidence, but more based on intuition. Feminine intuition? Maybe, I seem pretty darned female these days. But anyway, trusting him made me feel protected. It offset this insecurity that turning female seems to have created in me. It felt nice. Thursday, September 24 Thursday, Amy and Sandy managed to get together again for their semi-regular lunch. As with recent weeks, nearly the only topic of conversation was Jamie. Once again, Amy bubbled over about this or that that Jamie had done over the last two weeks. His spontaneous trip to the salon. The new dress and shoes. His success at trimming his waistline. But then Amy sobered, and stopped talking for a long few moments. She fought to hold back tears. "Oh, Sandy. I'm just so afraid I am losing James, though. As much as I love Jamie, and as much as I thrill at every new success she has, I still love James with all my heart. But I see less and less of him in Jamie every day. It feels like he is slipping away. And no matter how hard I grab and try to hold on, the pieces of my one and only husband just seem to slide though my fingers. What am I going to do?" Amy could hold the tears back no longer. This was not a violent storm of wracking sobs and torrential tears, but a silent stream down each cheek. It wrenched Sandy's heart, and almost made her relent her need for this challenge. But then she thought back to the time when she thought of her husband as Amy thinks of James, and knew she had to finish, so she could know beyond a shadow of a doubt. And maybe save Amy at the same time, should it be necessary. "Shh, sweetie. I'm here. Sandy's always here to help make things right. Come on, Amy, don't worry. It will be OK. Together we will make it OK. Don't cry now girlfriend." And she cradled Amy's head above her breast and waited for the sorrow to leak out with her tears. Finally, Amy pulled back and gave Sandy a watery little smile. "Thanks, girlfriend. You're the best!" Amy turned her head away and dabbed her eyes and nose with a tissue, embarrassed for breaking down in public. When she was composed again, Sandy asked "I know what you say you feel, Amy, but do you have any specifics we can talk over to see how we need to proceed here? I mean, your whole strategy has been to train her to be you, or very nearly. Don't you think that James is really alive and well in there, and just doing a really good job of learning and imitating the woman he loves so much?" "It's hard to pick specifics. Well, a few. Her emotions are more intense, less inhibited. She is more intuitive, picks up on human patterns very quickly. She has shown a remarkable acceptance of male company, considering how *he* was raised. She is very proud of her body, and sometimes jokes about not returning it." Sandy cheered to herself over that one. "Her fashion sense is much improved, and she has pretty good taste. She doesn't complain at all about shopping or trying on clothes, makeup, hair styles, jewelry, whatever. I don't know, Sandy, I can't think." Sandy was ready. "That's right, Amy. You can't think. You're letting your emotions run away, and painting disaster scenarios in you mind. But that's not you! Fall back on your doctors training. Analyze the situation based on your medical experience." "Like how?" "Well, you've treated transsexuals, right? I mean, you don't diagnose that condition, but you have led many new women successfully through their transition. What's your major tool in that area, at least until the final surgery?" "Ummm. Hormones? Yes, it would have to be estrogen." "And what happens when these patients take that estrogen? Is there any correlation between them and Jamie?" "Yes. Why, yes there is. So many of the things I mentioned happen in some or all of the tg patients on estrogen. But they want these changes, that's not the intent with Jamie." "OK, so we've established that estrogen is probably responsible for a lot of your 'lost' James, right?" Then Sandy continued without waiting for an answer. "And in the rare case that one of your patients has chosen to stop estrogen therapy?" "Well, if it happens before irreparable damage, then most of those effects reverse over time. The moodiness. The sexuality generally shifts back toward an interest in females if it had previously drifted toward male." "Yes!" Sandy jumped in. "And fashion sense is not hormone related. He probably had it all along, just suppressed. And reading your magazines and shopping with you has just strengthened it. That should be an advantage afterward, not a problem! And the shopping, makeup, etc is probably just Jamie's dedication to the task at hand. Don't you say that when he gets into one of his work projects that he is terribly focused and tenacious?" "Of course! That must be it. Oh, please, god, let that be it. I couldn't stand to lose James. Oh, Sandy, that must be it! When we stop the hormones, Jamie will gradually shift back to my wonderful, wonderful husband once again." Sandy added, "Maybe with a few improvements? Like more sensitive nipples. And better fashion sense. And a greater appreciation of you, as a woman." "Hmmm. You're quite right. He should be James plus. Oh, thank-you Sandy. I knew I could count on you." Sandy got a pensive look on her face, and thought for quite a while. "Amy, I just had a thought. What if… No. Um, Amy, is Jamie happy?" "Happy? Yes, she seems so most of the time, apart from a few emotional episodes. But she is almost always cheerful, bubbly, smiling. Yes, she is happy. Why?" "And James. Is James happy?" prompted Sandy. "James? Oh, yes, I have always thought that James is happy most of the time. Everyone has their down times, even James. But for the most part, he is very happy. Oh, I know he doesn't smile all the time, or bubble like Jamie. But that is just their different styles. Oh. Oh, no! Sandy, no! You don't think James is happier as Jamie, do you? Oh, no. Please no." Sandy sat forward, placing her hand on her friends arm to comfort her. "Oh no, I don't think so. No. No?...But…" "Sandy, you're scaring me! But what!" "Oh Amy, I don't want to hurt you. But you did say Jamie is more visibly happy than James, right?" A tear started coursing down Amy's cheek again. "Yes." She whispered. "And you did say she joked about staying as Jamie? Maybe that was her way of testing the waters with you." Amy's face seemed to crumple, and more tears chased the first. "Oh, god. Could Jamie have discovered she's transgendered? Oh, Sandy, what am I going to do? I can't live without James, Sandy. I can't do it." "Shh. Amy, you have to face the fact that Jamie may be here to stay. That may not be what's best for you. But can you really force her to go back if she's discovered this is the way she should be? And remember, you love Jamie too. Maybe not the same way as James, but you love her all the same. And you would have to lose her in order to get James back. Since you have to lose one or the other, wouldn't it be best to chose what is best for Jamie?" "Oooohhhhh. I can't do this, Sandy. Why did this have to happen? We were so happy together. So much in love. We have plans about starting a family together. Growing old together. Sandy, this can't be happening!" "Oh, Amy. I am so sorry. This is all my fault. If I hadn't insisted on this crazy challenge, if I had just trusted you and accepted James, we wouldn't have this problem now. I just wish I could turn back the clock with the knowledge I have now." Sandy hung her head and hugged Amy tightly. Finally she voiced another thought, "On the other hand, if we hadn't done this, James might have suffered through never knowing what that void in his soul was. As much as it hurts, this may have been the best thing for the one you love." Amy sobbed, "OK." She slowly pulled herself up, and said more strongly, "OK. If this is the hand I'm dealt, I'll handle it." More strongly yet, "OK, what do I need to do?" "That's the ticket. You go girl! If Jamie is to survive, you will have to be strong for her as well as for yourself!" "OK, 'll try. I must. Jamie needs me. But what do I need to do?" One more tear trickled down Amy's cheek. Sandy thought how to say this. "Well, first, you need to hide your knowledge from Jamie. You must let her explore being a woman. Right now, the plan is to go back to James after the party. You have to give her the freedom to decide for herself if she wants to or not, without feeling pressured into James by your need. Can you do that?" "I don't know. I will never do anything more difficult than that in this lifetime. I don't know if I'm strong enough. But for Jamie, I have to, so I will!" "That's the spirit. I know you can do it. Next, you need to help Jamie explore femininity. She must be able to do everything she can as a woman. If she is transsexual, she will have to rediscover her sexuality as a woman." Amy's face was on the verge of crumbling again, but she drew a deep breath, drew back her shoulders, and firmed her resolve. "OK, what do you suggest?" "Well, you've given her a good start already. You've given her a fantastic role model to pattern behavior after, and she's soaked it up like a sponge. You've taken baby steps in getting her to interact with others as a woman. That's good, but it needs to continue on several fronts. One, she needs more independent contact with men. The club was a good step. I think we should do that again, soon. Maybe tomorrow." "OK. But tomorrow isn't good. Jamie has to finish a task for work and has been spending long hours to get it done by tomorrow. I don't expect him to finish much before midnight, and even if he does, he will be exhausted." "How about Saturday?" "That could work." "And this time he needs to take another step. He needs to dance with a man, not just with us. And he needs to spend some time alone with a man, maybe while we are out on the dance floor?" "OK." Sandy pondered. "Next thing. He needs to come out from under cover. He needs to see how he is received professionally, by the people he works with." Amy was shocked. "No, Sandy. He may need to before he commits, but if he did it now before he made a decision, then went back to James, he could be ruined professionally. No, this is too early. I can see why you thought of it, but it can't happen at this stage, when we still don't know." "Are you sure this isn't just denial on your part? Is this really what you think best for Jamie? Or is it you hope that he still will return to James?" "Maybe. Maybe. But I just can't take the chance. Not when the consequences could be so severe." Sandy sighed. "Ok, maybe you're right. Let's wait on that." Amy glanced at her watch. "Oh. My. Word. Look at the time. I have got to get back. Can't say it was fun, Sandy, but thanks for your help. Talk to you soon." Sandy called "Remember, be strong for her!" She watched Amy walk away, and wondered what the future held. That night, as she expected, Amy hardly saw Jamie, let alone got the chance to talk to her. She retired early, and cried herself to sleep, wondering how she could possibly survive. Friday, September 25 Friday night was the same. However, Amy remembered hearing Jamie say it was done. She was free for the next month or more. Saturday, September 26 Amy let me sleep in this morning, after the grueling week that I had survived. I noted that the walking seemed to give me more staying power, and I resolved to continue it after I became a man again. I washed up and went to the kitchen in just my babydoll and matching panties. Amy was preparing lunch and said, "Hello, sleepyhead. Did my little girl get her sleep out?" I slumped listlessly in the chair and mumbled no. She brought lunch to the table, and we sat and ate in companionable silence. Amy seemed to have something on her mind, but was apparently looking for the right time to say it. Since I was wiped anyway, I just waited for her. Finally, "I was hoping we could take some time to sit and talk, uninterrupted, today, but I think it will have to wait for tomorrow. I made plans for this afternoon that I think might perk you up from your post-project doldrums. Come on, let's get dressed and go before we're late! In the bedroom, Amy laid a couple of hanging suit bags across the bed, but when we dressed it was casual. Still not fully awake, I didn't question what was up. We hurried out to the car, and wound up back at the salon I had been to for my only two visits to a beauty parlor. Apparently Amy had arranged everything ahead of time, because we were taken our separate ways. My first stop again was waxing. This time was even much better than last. There hadn't been much regrowth, and what had grown seemed even finer than last week. After the moisturizing lotion was massaged in, I returned to one of the hair stations. Ellie checked my roots, and decided I didn't need a touch up just yet, so she proceeded with the shampoo, then fixed lots of little rollers in my hair, liberally doused with a foul smelling solution. While that was percolating through my hair, another girl did the pedicure, and a manicure after removing my false nails. She then applied nails that extended 3/4" past my fingertips. I was just glad I finished my documentation before these were applied, as I expected to keep this length for the next month. All 20 nails were then coated multiple times with deep red polish, followed by a clear top coat. While this was going on, my eyebrows were plucked again, and when I finally saw them, they were an even higher, finer arch than last time. The rollers were removed, my hair rinsed, and I was parked under a dryer, with the usual selection of women's magazines to occupy my time. I found it interesting some of the techniques they espoused to tame guys. Having been on "the other side" for most of my life, I really doubted their effectiveness. Amy ended up under a dryer down the row from me, but we had no opportunity to talk. Then it was back to the station for final combing, arranging, and spraying of my hair, followed by an all-out assault by the makeup artist. When I was finished, I saw shiny golden blonde hair in a mass of curls piled on my head, with a corkscrew tendril hanging down in front of each ear. Delicate, femininely arched brows rose over dramatically highlighted eyes. My full lips were colored to match the red of my nails, and then glossed to a wet-looking sheen. It really was incongruous to be dressed so casually yet so elegantly made up. Amy came up behind me, and I could see she was just as turned out. She tapped me on the shoulder, and said "This way, sexy!" We turned and followed one of the girls from the shop into a back room where I saw the suit bags and a sports bag that Amy had brought. The girl left us there, and Amy started pulling out clothes. Once again I saw the red and black dresses cut in the same style, one pair of red spike heels and a pair of black. My red corset, and a black one I hadn't seen before, plus some of our sexiest lingerie. "Strip!" Amy ordered, and proceeded to do the same herself. She handed me the red corset, and hooked the black one on herself, then we tightened each others laces. When Amy finished with my corset, I commented that it didn't seem that tight, was she sure she had finished. She told me that it wouldn't go any tighter, as the two sides were pulled tight together. Even with my greater strength, I hadn't been able to do that with Amy's. "Oh ho! Looks like someone needs to go on a diet!" I sniped at her. She batted my arm, then handed me the lingerie she had selected for me. Bra, seamed black nylons, panties. When I was ready, she handed me the red dress this time, and helped me get it in place without mussing hair or makeup. I then helped her with the black one. A little tug here, a shimmy there, and we were all decked out. Amy still hadn't told me what was up, but I was content to follow her lead. I seemed to have mellowed out some in the past week or two. Wonder if it's the hormones, or just exhaustion. We packed our casual clothes into the sports bag, then went to the front of the shop to settle our bill and head out to the car. Amy drove us downtown, and we parked near the art museum. Amy explained that this was yet another environment that I could practice being a woman, and observing how other women behaved. We strolled through the museum, pausing here and there to examine a painting, a sculpture, or some Indian pottery. As we viewed the art, I also watched how Amy behaved as she spoke with me in hushed tones, as she lost herself in thought over a particular object, as she greeted some acquaintance, while she sipped wine at the bar, and when she was interacting with me as her girlfriend. I did my best to adopt the mannerisms I was able to distinguish as different from my own behaviors. Apparently Amy was unobtrusively watching me as well, because when I had little successes, she smiled at me, or quirked an eyebrow As evening approached, we left the museum and went to an upscale restaurant in an area of town associated with the upper crust. It was posh and sedate, not the kind of thing we went out for often, even when we felt like living high off the hog. We shared a bottle of very good wine as Amy ate her quiche, and I enjoyed a grilled shrimp Caesar salad. We talked about our respective weeks, and my success preparing for my part at the party. She did not talk about her lunch with Sandy, and while I could tell something was bothering her, she was able to convince me it was nothing worth worrying about. When we left the restaurant, Amy drove us again to the club we had visited two weeks ago, when I was a freshly minted woman. I questioned why we were here again, and Amy responded that it was for more experience. We left the car with the valet and entered the club. As we were making our way to a table, Amy saw someone wave at us, and changed course to approach a different table, where Kevin and Jack, whom we'd met last time, were sitting alone. They greeted us warmly, and I watched Amy greet Jack with a peck on the cheek. It made me quite nervous, but I tamped that down and did the same to Kevin. After all, the whole purpose of this was to learn to imitate Amy. I was all for finding our own table, but Jack had already signaled for a waitress, and was ordering drinks for us, while Kevin urged us to sit. At first, it was a repeat of the last time, we sipped our drinks while Jack leaned close enough to Amy to carry on a conversation. Kevin was attempting to do the same with me, but my nerves were making my end of the conversation very difficult to carry. Amy was unobtrusively keeping an eye on me, and silently urged me to loosen up a bit. Part way through our second drinks, Jack asked Amy to dance, and she agreed! As I watched Jack and Amy rise, trying to cover the shock on my face, I felt a tap on my shoulder, and heard Kevin say "Would you do me the honor of dancing with me?" I stammered and tried to mumble thanks but no thanks when I heard Amy pipe up from across the table saying "That's a wonderful idea, Kevin. Jamie would love to dance with you. You'll have to forgive her, she is a little shy." I stared at her, dumbstruck, and she just smiled back at me, and mouthed "go ahead". Kevin took my hand and led me to the dance floor. Fortunately, it was a fast song, so it was not hard to imagine I was dancing with Amy, like last time. The song ended, and segued into a slow dance. Before I could escape, Kevin had captured my hand, brought me up next to him, and started leading me around the floor. I was petrified, and Kevin picked up on that quickly, and eased me away just a bit. He started asking me questions, and telling me about himself, taking advantage of our nearness to carry on a fairly quiet conversation. At first I just mumbled my replies, but Kevin tilted my chin up, beamed that great smile at me, and said "Hey, come on, don't you dare hide that wonderful sexy voice from me!" His smile had brought an answering smile to my lips, but when he hit the word "sexy" the smile started to crumble. I firmed up my resolve, pasted the smile back on my lips, a bit strained at first, but it mellowed over time. Kevin started again, and this time, I was able to get my responses out in Amy's melodic voice, without losing my cool. I got so wrapped up in Kevin's conversation that when the current dance ended, it just seemed natural to flow into the slow dance that followed. As we danced and talked, Kevin gradually guided me closer. It was so gentle, and so unthreatening that I hardly noticed. When we reached a lull in the conversation, he pulled me a little closer, and it just seemed natural to lay my cheek against his chest, since he was so much taller than I. I wondered what I was doing, but between the wine earlier, the drinks and the easy conversation, I couldn't seem to work up much concern about it. As we moved around, I saw Amy dancing with Jack. She was held just as close as I, but she had her head up and was watching me with an enigmatic smile on her beautiful face. The next song was fast, so we drifted back to the table for a rest. Amy and Jack arrived about the same time. We sat, and talked again, two separate conversations as before, Amy with Jack, and Kevin with me, because the music was just too loud. Jack signaled for another round of drinks. I tried to get Amy's attention, but couldn't seem to get her to understand I was ready to leave. After we'd rested, talked, and finished our third drink, the guys asked us to dance again, and before I could say anything, Jack had already led Amy away, and Kevin was standing beside me expectantly. This time, the dancing picked up where the last had left off, Kevin held me very close. I decided not to fight it, and just went with the flow. After several dances, both slow and fast, I plead aching feet due to the heels, so Kevin gallantly lead me back to our table. We sat and talked through another two songs before Jack and Amy came back hand in hand, laughing over something Jack had said. Before long, Amy signaled me, and told Jack and Kevin that it had been great, but it was time we were going. They seemed disappointed, but quickly offered us a ride home. Amy demurred, saying we had our own car, but thank-you very much. I told Kevin that I had a wonderful time, and thanked him for the dances and the drinks. He lifted my hand, and gently kissed the back of it. I restrained the urge to jerk my hand away, not knowing if that urge was based on disgust at being kissed by a man, embarrassment at having Amy see the kiss, or the tingle that started at the point of contact and worked its way up my arm. I know my face must have been as red as my dress. We managed to make it to our car and headed home. Thankfully, Amy stayed silent for the drive, but I felt sure we were going to have a little talk when we got to bed. I was right. After we had undressed, cleaned off our makeup, brushed our teeth, donned our baby dolls and climbed into bed, there was an awkward silence, but I knew that wouldn't last long. I was torn between yelling at Amy for getting us into that position, and mumbling an embarrassed apology for my behavior with Kevin when Amy stopped my thoughts cold with her opening remark. "You looked really good out there dancing with Kevin." She paused and looked down, blushing. I was trying to decide between a shocked retort and an angry accusation for getting me into the situation when I heard myself say, "It felt pretty nice, too." I couldn't believe what had just come out of my mouth! I think I shocked Amy, too, because she jerked her head back up, even while her cheeks continued to glow red. As soon as it really penetrated my mind what I had said, my mouth opened in shock, and tears welled up in my eyes. One great sob burst forth from my throat, followed by a stream of tears from my eyes, then constant wracking sobs as I tried to burrow into the mattress, to hide myself from Amy. In an instant, Amy was cradling me in her arms, stroking, whispering her love, and waiting for the storm to pass. And eventually it did. Eventually. When I was finally cried out, Amy pulled back from me just enough to raise my head and look into my eyes. There was a look of unending love in her eyes, but I think there was a touch of fear as well. I knew that there was a great deal of fear in me right at that moment. She gently kissed me on each eye, then the tip of my nose, and then, finally, lingeringly, on my lips. "Do you want to talk about it?" she asked. I searched her eyes a moment, then looked down. "I'm not sure I can." "Honey, you know you can always talk about anything, ANYTHING, with me." "Oh, I know that Amy. It's not that. It's just that I don't know what I think right now, so there is no way to put it into words." We clung to each other a while, then Amy hesitantly said "Honey, are we going too far with this? Do we need to call this whole thing off? Baby, you know how important it is to me that you and Sandy get along. But you, James, are the most important thing in the whole world to me. More important than Sandy or Sandy's friendship. More important even than life. I will not, repeat WILL NOT, take a chance on losing you. Not for anything. Not for anyone." As she said this, tears started leaking out of my eyes again, and I burrowed my head against her luscious breasts. "I know, I know," I wailed. "If I said the same words to you, they would be no less true. I love you more than anything. But, I don't know. Somehow, something was different tonight. It's like someone picked up the world and set it down cockeyed. Things that should have scared or disgusted me were not just acceptable, but, um, nice. And that really scares me." We were both still scared. I know I was, and I could feel it from Amy. We made love that night with more than just a little desperation, and I wondered what the future would bring. Sunday, September 27 We never even dressed Sunday. We hardly let each other out of our sight. There was a soothing quality to the time that we spent doing nothing in particular, eating, playing games, watching TV. It was a reaffirmation of our love, and of our commitment to live our lives together, come what may. By that evening I think the worst of the fear was washed away. Monday, September 28 I had a midmorning appointment with Sandy to monitor my changes, so I got up early and went for my walk. I was still wearing my corset most of the time, but it was tightened to the limits now, and did not feel all that tight to me. I decided I needed a new one if I wanted to continue to get results from it. Paul was waiting at this usual spot when I passed the second time around, and fell in step beside me. I kidded him about getting lazy, and that I had already made the circuit once, but he pointed out that I had gotten an earlier start than usual, and it was even now the time we had met in the past. The conversation flowed easily, and I mused that this was much more natural than had I been trying to talk to Paul as a man. Paul asked "So, if I remember correctly, last time we met you said you were a pretty fair computer consultant, right?" I looked up into his face, wondering where this was going. "Yes, I am a consultant, and I think I do OK. Why?" "Well, SammaTech is looking for someone to do a little consulting work for us, and when the subject came up last week, I thought of you. Now, I don't know that there is a match between the work and your skills, but would you be interested in sending us a resume?" Now, generally I would jump at the chance. A consultant's greatest asset is her base of contacts. The more satisfied customers, the more chance of having work available when the consultant has the time. But given my present condition, I didn't think it was the best idea right now, so I said "I am kind of stacked up on work right at the moment, so if you are looking for someone soon, I think I should pass. You should find someone who can handle it on your timetable." Paul frowned. "Well, that was not the answer I was looking for. We have had very little luck finding someone who could do the job for us, and we are getting kind of desperate. Tell you what, I will give you my card, and you think it over." "OK. But don't get your hopes up." He mumbled "Too late." I was apparently getting results from the walking, as I kept the pace up the entire two laps, and was not even breathing hard when I separated from Paul and went home. Since the corset was looser, I was able to reach behind and get the laces undone, and shucked it so I could shower and be fully clean when I saw Sandy. Shampoo, conditioner, blow dry, quick comb. I noted I didn't need a shave, the frequency had dropped to every third or forth day. I applied a little blusher, mascara, and lipstick, and called it good. A lightweight skirt in a pale green, with a silk blouse, over my lacey undies. Pass on the hose, a pair of green 3" heels, and I was ready. It may be September, but the weather here in the Southwest is still warm enough for summer clothes. I noted the size of the corset for later. I breezed out to the car, and drove to Sandy's office. There were a couple other women in the reception area, but that no longer bothered me. I pondered that concept while I was waiting to be called back. The time came, and I was conducted by a nurse to one of the examining rooms. The nurse handed me one of those useless hospital gowns and told me to strip to my panties, which I did after she left. Sandy came in and we sat and talked for a bit. She seemed more at ease with me than any time since I first met her. I decided that I was doing the right thing for Amy, if this kind of result held. She asked me about any changes in my body and emotions, and I tried to convey what I had observed. She said she was pretty well up-to-date from Amy anyway, but it was useful to compare two points of view, from the inside and the outside, so to speak. She then went on to a physical examination, poking here, prodding there, asking for feedback of pain or sensitivity. While I sat on the examining table, she had me drop the top of my gown down into my lap, baring my breasts, which she proceeded to examine and manipulate with great concentration. Sandy pointed out what a great shape my boobs had settled into, perky and nicely rounded, with no hint of sag. She pointed out the puffy areoles and enlarging nipples. I had mentioned them, but from my point of view it had been very gradual, so when she pointed it out, I realized how much I had changed. The nipples were easily double the width, the areoles had gone from nickel size to the size of a quarter, and the whole area of it was puffed up maybe an eighth of an inch where they had been basically flat before. The sensitivity had gone from virtually the same as any other spot of skin to having noticeable sensation. Sandy observed that there may have been some shift in body fat, noting how trim my waist was, but saying that after she had augmented my hips and butt, it would be really hard to judge whether further change had occurred. She did note that I was down 10 lbs. over the last month. She then talked about the hormone implants, saying they lasted a fixed time, and that it was time for mine to be renewed. She asked if I was still OK with this. I was not about to chance messing up this challenge, no matter how nice she was treating me, so I grinned, and told her definitely. A nurse was dispatched to bring back the same implants that were used the last time, and Sandy inserted them. She noted that it was basically a month to the party, so she would see me next that Monday following Halloween, when we could plan the reversal process. I thought that sounded just fine, I was looking forward to it. When I left Sandy's office, I would have liked to have stopped in to see Amy, but we were saving my appearance for a surprise at Halloween. I drove to what I had come to think of as Jamie's mall, the one across town we went to in order to avoid being seen by people we know. It was also the only place Jamie had visited a salon, and where most of Jamie's clothes had been purchased. I felt comfortable there, anonymous but attracting lustful or envious attention. I went back to Victoria's Secret, and asked the salesgirl for help with a corset. I told her the old size, and that it was now too large. She was slender, but she groaned enviously when I said that, and I couldn't help but smile. She found a basic white one she thought would work, and I asked if she could help me put it on. I had my faux vagina securely glued in place, so I figured with a little care, my secret would be safe. In the dressing room, she pulled and strained on the laces, pulling it as tight as she could. I could tell it was a lot tighter than the old one could be anymore, but I must have been used to it because it wasn't bothering me at all. She measured my compacted waist and reported it was only 19". She also told me the new corset had about another inch before it reached its limit. I also took one in black and one in a royal blue. Another quick salad in the food court, then to a jewelry kiosk where I selected several new sets of earrings, the first I had purchased on my own. One set were dangly with several cascading wafers of plastic in red, white and blue that I thought would go great with that bikini Amy had put me in. Then I realized by the time I could have worn it again, I would be back to James. Oh well, they'll look great on Amy with that suit next summer. Back at home, I spent the afternoon cleaning up my office after that mad rush last week, and installed the latest security fixes on my computer. That chewed up most of the afternoon, and then it was time to put dinner together for Amy. We had a nice, quiet evening, and when we made it to bed, settled into a slow, languorous lovemaking. I realized that I was not exerting the same urgency in our sex as I had before, and wondered about it. Not that I didn't enjoy sex greatly, but now Amy was almost always the more aggressive partner. I was more content to feel her stroking my body. Her teasing, fondling, and sucking on my breasts brought me as much or more pleasure than penetrating Amy. I knew I should be worried about that, but it just didn't seem that important to me. Friday, October 2 The week passed with Amy working, me walking in the mornings and puttering the rest of the day, still practicing my woman lessons. Then most evenings were reserved for loving. However, Friday, we noticed a difference. While we both were willing partners, our usual moves, while feeling great, failed to bring me to erection. We tried different things, but ended up settling for bringing each other off with our mouths. Amy noted the fluid I issued was greatly reduced from my pre-hormone days as well. This did rouse my worry, and when we were snuggling after, I asked Amy about it. I could tell she worried about it too, but tried to reassure me that this was normal for estrogen hormone therapy. She was a little concerned, as this was probably 3 or 4 weeks ahead of what you would normally expect, but there was probably no reason for concern. She did make a mental note to talk to Sandy about it, though. Saturday, October 3 The weekend was quite calm, with trips to the grocery store, a home improvement store, a quiet dinner out, and a movie. We had fun necking and petting in the last row of the theater until we noticed several people glancing at us, and decided two women making out was a little too much. Amy continued to tweak my impersonation, but it was becoming much less often she could find something to correct. Most of the flaws cropped up when we put ourselves into new and different situations. Amy found a notice for a women's club sponsored speaker scheduled for Saturday afternoon. She decided it would be good for me to try something different. I was OK with it, but afterward regretted that the topic had been essentially how to keep you man by being a tigress in bed. Of course it was couched in infinitely more polite terms than that, but all the same! Sunday, October 4 That weekend was the boat show down at the civic center, and Amy thought that since I had spent the time in a gathering of women, the male-dominated trade show would provide a nice balance for me. We cruised the displays, and I was thoroughly disgusted at being treated as completely unknowledgeable by the company reps. I guess the stereotypical treatment of women really does happen. Except for that, most of the men were nice. In the press of bodies, a few extra hands found my tush, but nothing too untoward. I was constantly aware of the many eyes that followed our every move. A couple of times, men tried to pick us up, but for the most part they were easy to outmaneuver. Monday, October 5 The week ran much as the last. I walked every morning, several times with Paul. He seemed to be making more of an effort to be there when I passed. There were miscellaneous odd jobs around the house, and various tasks in my office trying to be prepared for the next phase of my contract. Cozy dinners with Amy, and affection in bed at night. My erections were still MIA, so the character of our trysts had changed to cuddles, and virtually no sex. Amy had tried to contact Sandy, but she was out of town the first part of the week. Wednesday, October 7 While dressing after my walk, I noticed that I seemed to be spilling over the tops of my bra cups. Strange, when did that happen? With nothing specific on the agenda, I decided I would do something about it. After the trip cross town to "my" mall, I found myself once again in Victoria's Secret. The salesgirl approached, and I blushed as I told her I seemed to have had a growth spurt up top, and could she measure my bra size. She led me to a changing room and asked me to remove my top and bra. With deft movements, she took the necessary measurements, the left for a moment to fetch a few bras for me to try. As I tried each one, she carefully adjusted the straps for the best fit, then asked how it felt. When we finished, I was shocked to find that I was slightly too large for a "D" cup in most brands, though a few fit fairly well. She had tried a couple double-D bras, and they were a little bit too large. I ended up buying a few very pretty bras in each D and DD, concerned that I might soon outgrow the D. On the girls urging, I also bought matching panties, and even a few other things, including a near scandalous baby doll/thong panty set. I was again amazed, and not a little concerned with how much I was getting into this girl thing. Thursday, October 8 Sandy and Amy met up for lunch as usual on Thursday. Amy was a little strained while discussing Jamie's progress. Especially about the erectile dysfunction. Sandy repeated Amy's argument that ED is normal in hormone therapy, and shouldn't be an issue after the hormones stop. Amy moaned that she missed the physical closeness that accompanied penetration. Sandy talked clinically about her observations Monday of the prior week, and that all seemed in order. Amy observed "Jamie's breasts seemed to have filled out a little, so they're an even more natural rounded shape. And their sensitivity is up as well." Sandy joked "Well think how nice that will be after, when she has her erections back. You can have the best of both worlds!" Amy looked sad. "Will I ever get James back, Sandy? Or have I felt him inside me for the last time, and didn't even know it?" That pulled Sandy up abruptly. "I don't know. This is just so… so… I don't know. When we talked two weeks ago about this, I was assuming you would have full use of that member past the time she made a decision to continue. This must be so hard for you! Have you got any better feel for how she might go?" "Why do you keep referring the James as her and she!" Amy growled. "She's a man, and she's my husband, darn it!". Sigh. "I know Amy, it's just that she's a she right now, and besides, you know how I am about men. I want to keep my thoughts about her positive, and that is so much easier if I refer to her as female. I'm sorry. I know this is awfully hard on you. Things will work out, you'll see." "I can't tell which way he might jump," Amy said. "He seems to be fitting into the role more and more every day. His behavior is impeccable, and he seems so comfortable. But besides the obvious conclusion that he is transsexual, there is the chance, and a pretty good one, that he is just throwing himself into this role precisely because the outcome is so important to me!" "I hope that is what it is, for your sake. So, tell me, what have you been doing to let him gain the full feminine experience?" Amy went through the dinners, movies, shopping in various types of stores, dancing at the club, the museum, women's club and boat show. Sandy thought that sounded pretty good, but there was something still missing. "What? Amy asked. "Well, I am hesitant to voice it. But if Jamie does survive, then she will have to make a decision about her sexuality. You know that many, if not most hetero transsexuals will be heterosexual after the change, becoming interested in men, don't you?" The horror had been growing on Amy's face as Sandy talked. She whispered "Oh, my god!" Sandy looked on in sympathy, but let Amy have time to think it through. "But what am I supposed to do about that? Get Jamie laid? Oh, Sandy, I can't push him toward a man! That might push him either away from me if he goes back to James, or over the edge to Jamie even if he was not already headed there!" "Well, I didn't say laid! I just think she needs a little on-on-one time with a man. Maybe a nice date in a controlled environment so there would be no sexual pressure on her." "This is so hard to know what to do. I just don't know if I should do something like that, and I wouldn't know how to set up something safe anyway." Sandy paused. "Well, you remember Jerry at work?" Amy nodded and Sandy continued, "Didn't you say he hits on you every once in a while? And you know from working with him that he is pretty nice, and not too pushy. Since you and Jamie are now twins, if you acceded to his request, on the basis of strictly a non-sexual situation, then talked Jamie into going in your place, that could work out." Amy was slowly nodding her head. "But how do I do that with Jerry when I have used my faithfulness to my husband as the prime reason for refusing?" "Well, make it clear that you absolutely will not be unfaithful sexually, but that James has been absent this last month, and you could use a little non-threatening male companionship for an evening. After all, its not a lie, Jamie has been here over a month, so James has been away the same time." "It just about breaks my heart to even think about it, but Jamie has to find her own way to either a new life, or back to James. I'll think about it, but no promises." "That's good. Just be careful that you make your decisions for Jamie's sake, not what will give you less pain in the short term." I was unaware of this conversation, but I was well aware of Amy's extra attempts to arouse me for intercourse that night. It was unsuccessful. I awoke later to find Amy crying softly into her pillow, and nothing I said or did could convince her to talk to me, or ease her obvious pain. Friday, October 9 Amy had still not reached a decision by Friday, but just in case, started carefully cultivating Jerry's attention, so she would have that option. I walked again, and ran into Paul, as was becoming more the rule than the exception. In the course of the conversation, I mentioned I had to visit a computer store downtown. He said that was right by where he worked, and asked if I would have coffee with him at a little shop by his office building. We had been becoming friends, so I saw no harm in that. After the walk, I was still trapped in the corset, so I sponged as best I could. The new corsets were tight enough that I was unable to get the laces loose. I donned one of my new lacey bra and panties set, one of the D size that was just tight enough to give an extra emphasis to my endowments. I then added nude pantyhose. I wore a gauzy sun dress in swirled patterns of pale yellows and greens. It would have been totally inappropriate most other places in the country this time of year, but was perfect for here. Beige 4" strappy sandals finished the outfit. I took a little more time with my hair and makeup, doing a more elaborate job with foundation and eye shadow in addition to my more normal mascara, eye liner and blush. I carefully outlined my lips with the lip liner, and filled in with a frosty pink lipstick, glossed for that wet look. I took the time to remove my nail polish and replace it on toes and fingers with polish to match my lips. I couldn't figure out why I was taking such care when I was only visiting a computer store, and would incidentally see my walking buddy. I had a salad in a Sweet Tomatoes on the way down, did my thing at the computer store, then searched out the coffee shop, arriving right on time at 2:00. Paul walked in a minute later, dressed in sharp slacks, and a nice shirt with collar open, no tie and no jacket, respecting the local climate. He smiled when he saw me, and joined me at the table. I ordered a non-fat latte, and he had cappuccino. We talked and enjoyed the coffee. When we finished, he invited me in to see his office. I glanced at my watch, looking for a reason to leave, but it was early yet, so I shyly agreed. He ushered me into his building, then up to the fifth floor, where his office was. He showed me around, and introduced me to some of his co-workers. About the time I was ready to leave, two men walked up. One said "So this is the consultant you have been telling us about, Paul?" And I realized I had been set up. I looked at Paul. He looked abashed, but said "Yes, this is she. Jamie, may I present Mr. Johnson, my boss, and also Steve, from IT." Even if I don't look like myself, I have a definite work ethic with customers and potential customers. I squared my shoulders, reached my hand out for a feminine handshake, and said "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Johnson." Turning to another handshake, "And you also Steve. Paul asked me for a resume, but I don't have one with me. And as I told Paul, I have about all the business I can handle right now." Mr. Johnson took charge, "Don't be so quick to turn us down. Come on into a conference room for a minute, and let's exchange a little information." For the next half hour, they told me their needs in general terms, and I told them the type of work I did, and some vague details about some of my past projects. Things went really well, I was a good match for what they needed, and they were impressed with me. I just didn't want to take on work as Jamie. Mr. Johnson asked if I could tell him the names of some of the companies I had worked for. Reluctantly I mentioned a few of the more obscure ones. Mr. Johnson perked up and said "Oh, you worked for Scanlon Industrial? Was it for Bob Jamison, by any chance?" I was so surprised, that I squeaked yes before I could backpedal. He said "I know Bob. We play golf together. He told me about this fantastic consultant that solved that problem they were having a couple years ago. That must be you. I must say, I am impressed. And Bob has a very high opinion of you. Tell me, is there anything I can do to entice you to take on our project?" "I'm sorry, but I have more work than I can handle right at the moment." Too bad I couldn't pursue it. I would be back to James before this could go anywhere, but I couldn't tell them that. Then inspiration struck. "How about if I have my partner get back with you in say 3 weeks? He normally handles the business aspects of the work, and we cooperate on the development. He has worked on all those projects I spoke of right along with me. Would that work OK?" Mr. Johnson smiled, and Paul absolutely beamed. "That would be great. Three weeks is stretching it a little, but could still meet our timeframe. Especially since we have no viable options." So we exchanged contact information, but I cautioned them not to contact James until next month at the earliest. There is just no way I could talk in James' voice right now. As Paul walked me out, I sadly wondered what it might be like working with Paul as James, and not letting slip that I know him a lot better than James should! I rushed to get home to start dinner, but arrived just after Amy. I apologized, but she said that was OK, we weren't eating in tonight, then shooed me into our room to get gussied up for a night on the town. Amy suddenly realized how I was dressed, and commented on how nice I looked. She asked why. I blushed and told here about meeting Paul walking, and then talking to his boss today about doing consulting work for their company. She was surprised that I would do that dressed as Jamie, so I told her of my strategy of deferring any more contact till my "partner" James could handle the business negotiations. That got a grin out of her. We got dolled up in some of Amy's nicest (and sexiest) outfits, and headed off to dinner. Afterward, we found a different dance club, for which I was thankful, as it reduced the chances of running into Jack and Kevin again. The evening was pleasant. We did not hook up with anyone in particular, as we had on the last two occasions, rather sitting at a table together, talking and sipping drinks. We were asked frequently to dance, and accepted most of the offers. I was now strangely comfortable with that situation, but even more so since none of my partners got the chance to be as possessive as Kevin had been. It was late when we returned home, and we quickly cleaned up and went to bed, falling asleep almost the moment our heads touched the pillows. Saturday, October 10 The weekend was open, so I talked Amy into visiting a local health club. I was feeling so good from the walking, that I decided it would be good to do a more complete exercise program. I also wanted to entice Amy into doing the same. Not that she was fat, by any means, but I was so pleased at how my copy of her figure had improved over the past couple weeks, I was eager to see the same enhancements in her. She was not convinced, so we did not join outright. Sensing one easy customer and another teetering on the fence, they offered us a trial one week membership, which I quickly accepted before Amy could turn it down. A dragged her off to a sporting goods store, and we bought a couple leotards in bright colors, some shorts, leggings, and cross trainers. We then stopped by home and picked up the same bikinis we had used at the water park. I realized I would get a chance to wear my new coordinated earrings with my patriotic suit after all. Despite Amy's reluctance, we stopped for a light lunch, then returned to the fitness center. As part of the enticement, our trial membership included some consultation with a personal trainer. We were in luck, one was available. This was great, since neither Amy nor I knew where to begin. We dressed in the dressing room, and I was amused that it seemed I was more comfortable in our skimpy exercise clothes than Amy. The trainer was a hunk! His name was Julian, and he is just the kind of guy many women go goo-goo-eyed over. Fortunately Amy had a loving hubby, and was more level-headed than that. And me? Well, I'm not really a woman, now am I? Not that all those rippling muscles didn't do something to me. I'm just not sure what. He described the goals and methods of safe, healthy training, and then walked us through a cycle on the impressive array of fitness machines. Well, I thought I had gotten into better shape with my walking. I soon learned otherwise. Amy fared no better. After Julian finally let us go, we went back to the locker room and changed into the bikinis, then made use of the Olympic sized pool. Amy noticed the new red, white, and blue earrings right off, and commented on how they were adorable with the almost not there bikini of the same colors. She gazed at me appraisingly, then commented on how healthy and attractive I was looking. I think maybe she was getting into the idea that since my copy of her body could look so great, maybe it was worth her while to do the same for her original. Between the pool, the spa, and the sauna, we didn't get out of the club until dinner time. We made our way home and threw together a light supper, then collapsed on the couch, both of us deliciously exhausted. Some time later, Amy shook me awake and told me it was time for bed. We cleaned up and got ready for bed. Since our lovemaking had taken a sabbatical, I had taken to wearing the vagina/gaff nearly full time. There was very little reason to take it off, as I was able to pee while wearing it, albeit sitting down. It was so much easier to have a genuine feminine shape down there, like when I wore the leotard and the bikini. We cuddled for a few minutes in bed, but were so tired we dropped off quickly. Sunday, October 11 We both woke a little stiff and sore, but as soon as we got moving, we were fine. I cajoled Amy into returning to the fitness club again. After all, we only had a week to try it out, and most of that week she would be working full time. This time, the free trainer assigned to us was Eduardo. He had the sleek, well muscled body of a swimmer. He did not have the bulk of Julian, but he was impressive, none the less. The circuit went about the same as the day before, maybe a bit harder with our tired muscles. Darn, I was hoping for some really impressive results really quick. Oh well, a girl can dream, can't she? Today we brought one piece suits. Amy had two identical suits from her days on the swim team in college. They both had really high cut leg openings, and low cut backs. They were made of a sleek, shiny, royal blue material that clings like a second skin. We stood side by side in front of the mirror. Amy studied our reflections, and I think decided her body came off second best. She did comment on my larger boobs, and I said that yeah, I had been noticing them. She seemed a little worried about it. Monday, October 12 I went out for my walk, and was not at all surprised to see Paul waiting for me. We walked in silence for a while. "Look, Jaime, I am sorry about setting you up last week. It's just that I like you. A lot. And I wanted to see more of you. So I thought I could kill two birds with one stone — get you some more consulting work, and give me a chance to be around you." My cheeks were flame colored by the time he finished. I couldn't look him in the eye. "Paul, please don't. I am in a permanent relationship with someone who means the world to me. I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong impression, but I am off the market, so to speak." "Oh. Um. Err. Gee, Jaime. I'm sorry. You never mentioned anything. I apologize if I overstepped the bounds." I grabbed his arm to pull him to a stop and swing him around to face me. I took both his hands and looked him in the eye. "No, Paul. Don't apologize. It's not you fault, it's mine. I guess I am so secure in my relationship that I don't think about what I project to others. You are a very attractive man, Paul, both your body and your personality. I am flattered that you have an interest in me, but I just can't." He looked a little sad. "Is it James, your partner?" "No Paul, not James. Please, I would rather not talk about it right now. Let's just finish the walk." Which is what we did, in silence. I had really put a damper on what I thought was a budding friendship. Before I split off to head home, I said "I'm sorry, Paul. If this changes things, and you are no longer interested in my consulting services, I understand. Good bye." "Wait Jamie. No, this will not affect that! We will talk again, I promise." Tuesday, October 13 Tuesday I did not see Paul while walking, and felt a bit sad. Was there something more there that I didn't want to examine too closely? Back at home and cleaned up, I realized how short I was on clean clothes, so I started the wash. By the time Amy came home, I had it about half done. A lot had built up recently! Wednesday, October 14 I had the laundry finally finished by the time Amy came home, with hers stacked neatly on the bed so she could put it away as she wanted it. Shortly after she had gone to the bedroom to don casual clothes for the evening, she called me into our room. "What's this?" She asked, holding up one of the new DD bras I had bought. "Oops, guess I got that in the wrong stack, sorry." And took it to put away with my things. "Why are you wearing a double D bra these days?" she asked, gazing intently at my chest. "I had noticed you seemed a bit bigger, but I had no idea!" "Well yeah, I've noticed me changing for the last several weeks, and your bras just don't fit right anymore. So I bought some that fit, and the girl said I was a generous D, not quite a DD. I figured if I was changing that fast, I would probably need the DD before the party." Amy grinned. "They do look pretty good on me. Now I see why you dreamed about me being bustier." Then her look turned serious. "But you shouldn't be having this rapid a response to the hormones. I think we need to do something about this. For now, I am taking you off the pills immediately. I am meeting Sandy for lunch tomorrow, why don't you join us. Sandy hasn't seen much of you recently." She told me what time and where. She continued, "I made an appointment at 'our' salon for after work tomorrow. It's time for me to do my change for the party. Why don't you meet me over there about 7:30 and a couple of fun-loving, carefree blondes (that's us) will grab a late dinner together!" "Huh? Oh yeah, it had slipped my mind that you were going dumb blonde too. Must be getting pretty close to the party already. I'm looking forward to having this over!" "Hey, watch it with the dumb blonde thing, OK? I'll leave that to you, and I'll be the smart blonde." she joked. Thursday, October 15 Traffic made me a few minutes late arriving for lunch, and Sandy and Amy were deep in discussion as I approached. Neither saw me until I pulled out my chair to sit down. They stopped talking, I could tell it had been about me, and greeted me warmly. Sandy asked me to stand again and twirl for her. She scanned my body critically, then motioned for me to sit. She turned to Amy. "I see what you mean. She has really developed a rack! Funny how it sneaks up on you when you see it every day. It's been a while for me, and it really jumped out at me." Amy smirked, "Yes, but I look pretty good that way, don't I? Lots of tits and ass!" Which made me turn crimson. Sandy started in thoughtfully "I'm glad you think so, because we have a little problem. When I see you two together, the size difference is so obvious, no one will ever think she is you at the party." Amy responded "So? What are you driving at?" "Well, the plan has always been to remove Jamie's implants after the party. If I removed them now, she wouldn't be exactly flat chested, but she would just as obviously be not you. Also, the removal procedure, while not major surgery, would leave Jamie bruised and sore through the party. Kind of a problem with your costumes. Alternatively, I could replace the current implants with smaller ones, then remove those afterward, but not only is the pain and bruising issue even worse than simple removal, that would be a lot of trauma to Jamie's chest over a very short period. I wouldn't recommend it unless Jamie wanted to stay this way for another 6 months or so." I piped in here "What!" but the both ignored my outburst. Amy calmly said "So, I take it you have an alternative?" Sandy hesitated, the quietly said "Yeah." Amy persisted, "From your behavior, I am not going to like this, right?" Sandy looked up. "Well, maybe, but then again maybe not. You just said how great your body looked on Jamie with the current 'improvements'. How would you like to try those improvements on for a few weeks?" Sandy was grinning crookedly. "What, you mean me get implants! I just don't know, Sandy." "Same deal. I got you into this, so no charge, and if you want them out later, no charge for that either." "What about my bruising and tenderness?" Amy asked. "Won't that interfere with the party?" "Nope, remember Jamie healed easily within two weeks, and it would be even easier for you, as it would be a very small implant." I stuck in my two cents worth, "I think you ought to do it. Give you just a tiny taste of what you have put me through. Besides," I smirked, hefting a boob in each hand, "these ought to like really nice on you." That got a laugh out of both of them, and after a moment I joined in. "OK. OK. You win, I can't fight you both! So how do we work this, I can't take time off work like Jamie has been able to, lucky broad!" Sandy went into planning mode. "Ok, can you get off just a bit early tomorrow?" Amy's response was that she usually tried not to schedule late appointments on Friday, so she could be away by 3:00. The plan was for her to pop directly over to Sandy's office, and the new improved version would be out by 5:00. I would give her a ride home, even though that was probably not necessary. Sandy turned serious again. "Jamie, we were talking just before you came. The amount of physical change you have shown, possibly emotional change as well, is not usual for this early in estrogen therapy. I want you to come back to the office with me so I can take some more blood samples. We need to see what's what." After lunch, Amy headed back to her office, and I accompanied Sandy to hers. She drew the samples, and said she would have results by the time Amy came in the next day. I was at loose ends for the afternoon. I didn't feel like sitting at home, so I wandered downtown looking for something interesting. When I realized I had wandered to the area of Paul's office, I pulled his card out of my purse and called him on the cell phone, and offered to buy him a cup of coffee. I was afraid he would refuse after our last meeting, but he agreed, and I met him the same time, the same shop as before. I was a little uncomfortable at first, not knowing where we stood with each other, but it wasn't long before Paul put me at ease, and our conversation started to flow as smoothly as before. I was strangely relieved, and not a little curious about why it mattered so much to me. After we said goodbye, I wandered over to 'Jamies Mall' and window shopped. Well, I must admit, I bought a few things, including some really sexy super sized bras for Amy, for after tomorrow. Finally it was time, and I wandered to the beauty salon. I waited a few minutes, then saw Amy stand out of one of the chairs, and stare in amazement in the mirror. I slipped up behind her, and gasped. Staring back at us from the mirror were the sexiest blonde twins I had seen in a long time. Of course, it was plainly evident that the boob fairy had been a bit more generous with one than the other. But other than that, anyone would have been hard pressed to tell the difference. She spun around to me and engulfed me in her arms, giggling excitedly. "Well, what you think, sis?" she said. "Lookin pretty hot, don't you think?" All I could do is shake my head and agree, "Pretty hot." We had an enjoyable light dinner at a quiet little restaurant tucked into a corner of the mall. It seems like I am getting that a lot recently, the 'light dinner' thing. But I must admit, it was doing great things for Amy's body that I am currently wearing. Not bad on Amy's own body, either. She had dropped a few pounds in some places that gave even more emphasis to her fantastic curves since we started being more careful about food. I still thought I needed to get her started exercising on a regular basis, though. At one point during the meal, she teared up, and paused a moment. "Jamie, I have done something we need to talk about when we get home. In fact, two somethings." But she wasn't ready to talk, and after a feeble try to get her to, I decided I had to wait for home. At home, Amy suggested it was time for bed, even though it was still early. I figured she was going to feel better telling me in the dark, while we cuddled. In an attempt to cheer her up, I pulled out the baby doll set I had bought a while back. The one too revealing for a whore to wear? I figured this would shake her up a bit, maybe get a laugh out of her. But I was really looking forward to James seeing her in it when he returned. Amy beat me to bed, so I came strutting out of the bathroom, and struck a pose for her. I didn't get the laugh I had hoped for, she just looked more worried about the upcoming talk. So I shrugged, and climbed into bed with her. She did not seem in a hurry to talk, so I started caressing and massaging, and trying really hard to connect with her. She eventually opened up. "Jamie, I… This is so hard! After seeing you dressed like that, I feel a little better about this first part." She turned toward me and took my hands in hers, looking me deep in the eye. "Jamie, I have been so worried about what I have so selfishly done to you. I keep searching to see if my James is still there, somewhere, but I can't see him any more. I am afraid I helped uncover something that I wish I'd never found." By this time tears were trickling down both her cheeks. "Hush, my love." I crooned softly. "James is still here. And you are still the most important person in the world to him." Amy worked up a tiny smile, but the tears continued to flow. "Oh, I hope so. I miss him so much! But anyway, we need to… I need to find out for sure. If there was something there, hidden, we can't just try to bury it again. It could destroy you, or us. So I have made you an appointment with Dr. Simmons. Rick is the psychologist in our group who oversees the treatment of most of our transsexual patients. He is very good. If there is anything there to find, he will work through it with us. If not, then we can both feel better about this. For the first visit, next Tuesday, we will both talk to him. No matter how that one goes, he will want to see you regularly until you get changed back, and get past the emotional upheaval." "Frankly, I have had a few areas of concern myself. I am not sure about seeing a psychologist, but if you trust him, and you feel you need it, I agree. "Thank you, my love. I really need to know." She quieted, burrowed down next to me, and started idly playing with my breasts. It felt so good, but I could tell there was something else on her mind. Gently, "What else, Amy?" as I held her wrists immobile. She looked so unsure of herself, so unlike the confident self-sufficient woman I adored. "I have done something I am afraid you will hate me for." she said in a trembling voice. "Oh, sweetheart, don't you know by now, even after all this, there is nothing you could do to make me hate you." She blurted "I've made a date for you tomorrow night." I must say, that one stopped me cold. Before I could respond the words started tumbling out of Amy's mouth, hardly stopping for a breath, never giving me a chance to speak, till the whole story had spilled out. "There's this guy, Jerry, who's part of our group. You've met him, Dr. Fredricks. He has been hitting on me good-naturedly for a couple years, and I have just as good-naturedly turned him down. Every time. Every single time. Till now. Honey, I swear to you that I have never, not once, been unfaithful to you. I have had meetings with men, one on one, evenings or weekends that some might have twisted into dates, but I have never considered them so. And there has never been untoward behavior by me. Jerry is very persistent in a non-pushy sort of way. I need to know about you, honey, so I decided to set you up in a one on one 'date' with Jerry. He thinks it is me, but it is you who will go, pretending to be me. I have made it very clear that there will be nothing sexual about this date. That I still love and am faithful to my husband, but I have been lonely lately, as James has not been around. So he is picking you up tomorrow at 7:00." The rush of words stopped, but my head was still spinning. "Date? Jerry? Me?" I couldn't get any more thoughts together. My wife was arranging dates for me! With men! I think I am going bonkers. Amy freed her hands and started doing delicious things to my breasts again. As my mind started to clear from the string of jolts it had just received, it started clouding with the desire Amy was arousing. One of her hands slipped down and stroked my vagina, in just the spot she had learned brought wonderful sensations to my encased cock through the silicone. "You don't hate me, do you?" "No, Darling, as I have already said, there is no way I could hate you. I am at a loss about why this particular thing, but I don't hate you." I paused. "Maybe I can make something positive out of this." Now I got a devilish little grin on my face. "I don't much like the idea of guys hitting on my wife, and I really don't like it when they don't take no for an answer. Maybe I can really bring that home to this little twerp!" "Now, Jamie, you're me for this outing, don't you get me into trouble over this. I have to continue to work with Jerry, you know." "Trust me." I don't think that made here feel any better. Amy drifted off to sleep, but I lay awake a long time thinking this through. I had a good idea how I wanted to handle Jerry, but was concerned that my growing passivity would interfere. I hope we learn something from those blood tests Sandy is running. Friday, October 16 The only thing of note that happened early in the day Friday was when I answered the phone. "Hello." There as a pause, then Amy's mom's voice, "Amy, is everything OK? What are you doing home this time of day, sweetheart?" I was flustered. Amy's mom thought I was Amy! What to do. I obviously can't explain. And Amy has no twin sister that could be visiting. Oh well, just blunder through. "Hi, mom. James is a bit under the weather, and I stopped home to see how he is doing. I have to be back to the office shortly." "Oh, nothing serious, I hope!" That brought a smile to my face. Nothing more serious than her son-in-law now being a dead ringer for her daughter, breast implants, hormones, cosmetic surgery, behavioral modification. "No, mom, nothing serious. He should be right as rain real soon now. I think it is from overwork, he spent some serious time on his job last week." "Yes, that boy does have a tendency to overdo at times. Well, I was just calling to see about getting together next week. It's been so long since we've seen you two." "Um, well, Mom, things are real busy right now for both James and I. Any chance we can do it after Halloween?" She was agreeable, said she understood. We went on to finalize the details, then I begged off saying I was due back at work. Before I forgot anything, I called Amy. Wonder of wonders, she was not with a patient, so I could talk to her, not her machine. I quickly detailed the mistaken identity, my excuse, the plan for next month. Amy then related the reactions to her new blonde locks. Apparently there were mixed reactions from her coworkers, but mostly positive. Jerry seemed to be definitely on the positive side. Amy had another patient, so had to go, saying she'd see me at shortly after 3:00. I made a point of being early to Sandy's office, and it turned out Amy was a little late. This gave Sandy and me a chance to talk. Well, the news was not good from my point of view. My female hormones were sky high, way higher than transsexual patients normally get, higher even than girls in puberty. And the androgen blockers were apparently way high as well, as my free testosterone was far lower than it should be, maybe even lower than had I been castrated. Sandy was concerned about the long term effects, and on my ability to become a fertile male again. Wonderful. I talked her into not telling Amy about this right now, as she was under enough stress about my lost masculinity, without having that kind of detail. We agreed she would just report the hormone levels were high, and I should stop the pills, which we had done anyway. With Amy coming, we decided not to explore it right now, but arranged for me to come back to her office tomorrow. About then, the nurse showed Amy in, so the topic was dropped. Amy was informed that my hormone levels were high, and that I should stop the pills. She said we already had, and the discussion shifted to Amy's procedure. Sandy started with "Now about your enhancement, is this temporary, or permanent, because we have some options to discuss." Amy looked at me, but I gestured that it was her call. "I don't think I want to commit to permanent. Jamie looks great, and I am looking forward to looking like that, but not sure I would like it long term." "The reason I ask is that we have a new procedure. It is a gel substance with hormones and growth enhancers. The gel fills out the breast immediately, and is slowly absorbed into the tissue, stimulating it to grow and fill in to create a more natural enhancement. It has been in testing for years, with very good results, and we have finally been given the go ahead for limited use. You are a good candidate for it, and the really big advantage is there is no surgery, so no bruising or much in the way of pain. Mainly just a feeling of tightness in the breast, much like a new mother feels as her milk comes in. This way, by tomorrow evening, Sunday at the latest, you won't even know we did anything. Except, that is, for the increased attention you will get from men." Amy asked me to stand up, and slowly turn. She checked my body over, trying to make up her mind if she was willing to commit to looking like I do. She asked me again, and I grinned a little, and said if she chose to, I would fully support her decision, and made a little hefting gesture with my hands. That got a giggle from her. "All right, let's do it. I wasn't looking forward to the recovery time anyway." "Just be warned," Sandy cautioned, "this isn't totally free from discomfort. You won't feel like doing much for the next day, maybe two." Sandy led us to an examining room, and sent her nurse for the necessary supplies. Amy dropped her top, and took off her bra, revealing to me her beautiful upper body. Sandy had her lie back and poked and probed her breasts, studying them carefully. She then had the nurse swab Amy's entire breast area with alcohol, then a topical anesthetic, as the needles required were rather large. I moved beside Amy, and took her hand, squeezing it comfortingly. She looked at me with love in her eyes, then jerked slightly as Sandy inserted the first needle. She worked her way around Amy's breasts, evenly injecting the solution, then stepped back to study the result so far. "I've measured out the correct amount to target the DD size Jaime's breasts will be in the next week or so, but I have not injected it all yet. I need to study a bit and chose injection sites for the most even distribution. The gel does an amazing job of redistributing for a smooth natural look, but I like to give it all the help I can." She than made 3 more injections in each breast, and told the nurse to help Amy into a special shaping/support bra the nurse had retrieved with the other supplies. Amy pulled her top on, and tried to stand. It's a good thing I was close, as she wobbled a bit. "Changes the balance a bit, I guess." She said with a grin. I held her steady while she got her balance. Sandy gave us after-care instructions, then let us leave. I drove Amy home, as I didn't want to take any chances. We could pick up her car tomorrow. It was about 5:30 when we got home, so I only had an hour and a half to get ready for my date. Amy and I went to the bedroom. She stripped to bra and panties, and climbed in bed, claiming fatigue, and a slight nausea. But she watched from bed, and made suggestions. Well, it was more like ordering me around, directing me to do this, then that. After all, she said, it was Amy going on the date, so she had to help dress me as authentically as possible. I dressed in all Amy's clothes, except the shoes and bras, which didn't fit. She first laced on one of my newer corsets, and tugged the laces, noting finally that she had pulled it to its limit. My waist really was getting tiny! This was followed by a plum colored demi-bra that left a huge amount of cleavage showing, and matching lacy thong panties. She had me add a matching garter belt, and feed the garters down through my panties, for easy access in the restroom, she said. Then came the sheer black seamed stockings, which were caught up to the garters. She insisted on inspecting the seams to ensure they were straight. She advised me on what, how much, and the colors of makeup I was to use, until I had a bold but slightly understated look, with plum eye shadow, slightly more intense eye liner than I was used to, and a deep plum lipstick. She stripped and polished my toe and finger nails to match. She directed me to fetch my 4" black pumps, but got up herself to go to the closet to get the dress she had in mind. This was one I don't remember, a plum colored dress of a supple light fabric that hugged every curve I had. The slightly full skirt ended mid-thigh, and was about the shortest I had ever worm. It would swirl out with any quick turns, but was not so full as to let too much be seen. It had a scoop neck that showed off more boob than Amy had had before this afternoon. I felt really indecent. Amy pulled out large silver hoop earrings, a silver choker with a heart dangling from the front, several silver hoops that turned out to be bracelets for my right wrist, and a very dainty silver watch for my left. She left my fingers bare of rings. I wondered if there was significance to that omission. After all, Jerry would know Amy wore our wedding ring most of the time. Then she dabbed some of her perfume between my breasts, on the pulse points below my ears and at my wrists, and on the back of my knees. We had about 10 minutes left when we finished. Pretty good for a girl getting dressed, huh? Amy pulled me to the bed and sat me down carefully. She then climbed up beside me and curled her legs under herself, so she could sit facing me. She grinned and said to me, "Lookin good, Amy!" Oh, yeah, I was being her tonight. Mental note, don't forget that! Then Amy turned serious. "Look honey. I hope you will be OK with this. I know it seems kind of strange, since I have never gone on a date except with you since we were married, and now, here, I have set you up with one. I want you to know that I consider this a hiatus from our marriage. Whatever happens tonight, it is what you need, and what I need, to try to figure all this out. Nothing that happens will count as infidelity." I started to protest, but Amy held her finger to my lips to hush me. "This has gotten so out of hand. I spoke with Rick Simmons about this, before I made your appointment with him. He felt it was very important for you to experience as much of womanhood as possible before you go back to James. This whole challenge may be your only chance, and it would be terrible to have regrets after it is too late. So I want you to promise me, Jamie. Promise me! Promise that you will BE a woman tonight. Experience. Live. Really feel how a woman feels around a man. I'm not saying to go to bed with Jerry. But I'm absolutely not going to tell you not to, either. Do what feels right for the woman you are right now. Do it for you. Do it for me!" A single tear slipped down her cheek. I leaned across and kissed it away, then gently kissed each eye, and her mouth. "I am confused about all this, but I love you. You feel this is important, so I will go with your wishes, but I will not do anything that feels uncomfortable. There is no way I would have sex with a man, I guess maybe I cannot believe in myself as a women enough to do that. But I will play the role to the best of my abilities, and try to gain what I can from the experience. Just remember, man or woman, you are my one true love. Always." Another tear or two leaked from Amy's eyes, and I was having trouble not dripping as well. But I managed to save my makeup. The bell rang, and it was show time. This was going to be one tough act. I gathered my courage, and found a smile somewhere before I opened the door. Jerry looked very nice, and just a bit nervous. He perked up a lot when he saw me, then whistled appreciatively. He then glanced around sheepishly, and asked if James was around. I fought the urge to giggle, and told him there as no problem. He took my arm, and led me to his car. When he opened the car, and was about to help me in, he suddenly pulled me toward him and kissed me quickly, full on the lips. He quickly slid me into the car and almost ran around to his side to get in, then drove quickly away. Oh my, this was not going according to plan at all. It took me a while to piece my thoughts back together. Finally I felt I could speak without falling apart, and said as forcefully as Amy's melodic voice allowed "Jerry, I thought I made it clear that this evening was not like that! I still love James very much, and I will not be unfaithful. I should just make you take me home!" Jerry looked contrite. "I'm sorry Amy, it's just that you are so damned beautiful tonight, and when I saw you without your wedding ring, I guess I got the wrong idea. Please, let's just go on like that didn't happen and enjoy each others company for the evening." I seemed to relent. "OK, but behave yourself!" But I was wondering why I was not too bothered by the kiss. Jerry perked up. "I really love what you've done with your hair! That color is fantastic on you." I blushed. "And if you don't mind my mentioning, I could have sworn that you weren't that well endowed last time I saw you." I giggled. "I had a visit with the boob fairy this afternoon. She goes by the name of Sandy these days. I have a friend that I was jealous of in that department, and when Sandy told me about a new treatment they have, I decided to go for it." I stuck out my chest, and turned it a bit from side to side. "You like?" "Yes, I like very much. Very, very much!" We went to a classy little bistro Amy and I hadn't been to before. There were lots of quiet secluded booths, perfect for conversation, or more romantic pursuits. I laid the ground rule that I was off work, and I didn't want to talk about it. I hoped that would keep me from being tripped up by something that Jerry and Amy both knew about from work, but I didn't. So we talked about movies, and books, the circus that politics had become, and the clowns that inhabit it. Jerry was easy to talk to. I found that we shared a taste in books. I tried to be careful, as Amy's taste is similar, but diverges somewhat. We had similar political views. We had visited and enjoyed or disliked some of the same parts of this country, and the world. Dinner was surprisingly enjoyable, good wine, good food, good wine, good conversation, more good wine, good company. I was feeling pretty lucky that I had snagged Amy before she met Jerry, or I might have had serious competition. He did seems pretty taken with me, err Amy. Whoever! I thought back on my ideas from the other night on how to use this date to steer Jerry away from Amy. They didn't seem so hot right about now. After dinner, we went to a little jazz club. Amy loves jazz, and I guess Jerry knew that. We sat at a small table near the back wall, where we had a pretty good view of the stage, and where we could hear each other talk, but still appreciate the music. We sipped drinks, and listened to jazz, or talked as the mood directed us. The group was pretty good. We talked through a couple of breaks they took, and enjoyed the sets of music in between. I don't remember how many drinks I had, but when we got up to leave, I was really feeling no pain. Jerry supported me unobtrusively so I didn't fall off of my towering heels. We got back in Jerry's car, then drove to a secluded spot overlooking the lights of the city. The evening was a delightful temperature, so we rolled the windows down, looked at the spectacular light display and talked some more. I leaned my head back for a moment, and must have dozed off, because the next thing I remember was this amazing sensation coming from my breasts. As the wool from my nap cleared, my arousal grew. I felt my dress slip off my shoulder, and then my bra going loose. Then there was a jolt of electricity as Jerry sucked my nipple into his mouth. This felt so good, so different than being with Amy, I just could not rouse myself to stop it, even though I knew it was wrong. I felt Jerry's caress my inner thigh, which set off an alarm bell. His hand moved higher. Although I had my false vagina firmly in place, I didn't want to test just how well it stood up to tactile manipulation. I laid my hand on Jerry's to stop his northward progress. I must say, he is very smooth. He turned that into a motion that carried my hand to his crotch, and was using his hand to encourage mine to massage him. He renewed his tooth and tongue attack on my breast, and next I knew I was manipulating another mans cock! How could this be happening? And why couldn't I stop it. When my hand seemed to continue on its own, Jerry's hand returned to it's exploration between my thighs. I was amazed that Jerry's zipper seemed to be unzipping itself. Then I realized that my traitorous hand was the culprit. It reached inside, and I felt the first cock I had touched besides my own. I tried to say something, but all I heard was Amy moaning. Amy here? How did that happen? Oh, yeah, I'm Amy tonight. Recheck mental note to self! I moaned "Jerry, no, I can't." But it wasn't very forceful. I planned to say that I was married, but what I heard come from my mouth was "It's my period." So much for planning. Think, brain. What now. Jerry took the need to think away as he gently guided my head toward his lap, and I was suddenly face to face(?) with Jerry's manhood. OK, now would be a great time for a new plan. Seems my tongue had one, though I didn't much approve. It reached out and daintily lapped the drop of clear liquid from the tip. Hmm. Can't say I've experienced that flavor before. My tongue decided that wasn't so bad, no matter what my brain was thinking, as it flicked several times across that oh so close cock, then swirled around the head. What now, I thought. My lips were next to turn traitor, as they wrapped around the helmet, and sucked it further into my mouth. At that point I was lost, and shortly had Jerry's very respectable member probing the back of my mouth. I tried to pull back, only to suck it back in, going deeper this time. I gagged a little, then readjusted my angle, and pushed myself further down, feeling the tip enter my throat. A couple more strokes and I felt my nose buried in Jerry's pubic hair, and my chin brushing his balls. Darn, now why did I have to notice that? My hand, without conscious thought reached in and carefully cupped his sack, gently scratched the loose skin, then caressed it, as my head moved up and down that shaft. Jerry somehow had one hand manipulating each boob, invoking delicious sensations that were running around my chest, then straight to my crotch. A few more strokes, a few more tingling waves to my own limp cock, and I felt Jerry swelling in my mouth. He was panting hard, and I would have been too, had I not been wrapped around that particular piece of manflesh. My mind said pull back. My tonsils said "Sorry, Charlie." And I felt Jerry erupt into my throat. The surge tipped me over the edge too, and I shot my tiny load into my gaff. But Jerry just kept on going, spurt after spurt, until I couldn't swallow fast enough and it leaked out around my lips. What? Swallow? Guess my throat is in on this mutiny too. Jerry groaned and began going limp. I pulled back, licking and sucking his member clean, until it slipped from my mouth. Oh my god. What have I done? But then Jerry was pulling me up to his mouth, and kissing me deeply. I might not have minded that so much, but what really bothered me was that I was kissing back. Passionately. This continued for some time, before Jerry slipped down to tease and nip and suckle my still bare breasts again, lavishing equal attention on each. I heard Amy moaning again, and I thought "That little slut, can't she ever get enough?" Well, guess it takes one to know one, because right now that little slut was me. I started to shake, and pant, then I stiffened up, and came again. Jerry slowed his ministrations, becoming much gentler as I came down. He then came back to my mouth for about a hundred or maybe a million more of those kisses. After we could separate our lips, he whispered "I knew it! I just knew you were one of the girls who can come from just having their breasts stimulated. And I just proved it. Has James ever done that for you?" That was like a splash of ice water in the face. James! That's me! At least, it used to be me. Was it anymore? Could I ever be James again? Was I ever really James to begin with? I just didn't know. I started quietly sobbing, and Jerry was at a loss as to what to do. He tried to gather me close and comfort me. That only made the sobbing worse. He frantically started mumbling apologies, for making me suck him off, for kissing me, for asking me on a date, for having been born. My sobs grew into wails. I think Jerry was on the verge of panic. He frantically helped me rearrange my clothing, and drove me toward home, begging me to stop crying. By the time we got to my place, I had calmed down some. At least I wasn't bawling my eyes out. My clothes were mussed, my hair tangled, and my makeup was a mess, what hadn't washed down onto my neck. I squared my shoulders, said goodnight to Jerry, and told him it wasn't necessary to walk me to the door. I regally exited his car and walked with all the dignity I could muster in the front door. I had half expected to see Amy waiting for me, but that was not the case. I struggled into the kitchen and poured myself a glass of wine from the bottle of Chablis in the fridge. Leaning back on the counter, I pondered what had happened tonight. No, not what had happened, what I had done! And I considered what it meant for the future. I walked slowly to the bedroom. Amy was sitting up in bed with a book. She saw the glass of wine, my bedraggled appearance, the black streaks of my waterproof (ha!) mascara down my cheeks and neck, and knew all was not right in my world. I don't know what I expected her to do, but breaking down and bawling was not it. Which set me off again. I managed to set down the wine glass, staggered to the bed, and collapsed next to Amy, hugging her for all I was worth. We stayed like that till first Amy, then I fell into an exhausted sleep.
Trick or Treat? By: Enigma Part 3 of 3 Saturday, October 17 I woke the next morning, stiff and sore, still in Amy's dress and my ruined makeup. Amy lay near me, propped on her elbow, watching me closely. I noticed a musky taste in my mouth, and it all came crashing back. I didn't know I had that many tears, but I sure shed a lot more of them. The storm passed, and I struggled out of bed to get cleaned up. Amy followed silently, helping where she could, just being close when she couldn't help. I showered with Amy joining me, washing me tenderly. We got out, and she patted me cry with a big fluffy towel. I brushed my teeth three times while she sat watching, patiently waiting for me to finish. When I ran out of things to do, she led me to the closet and draped a lightweight robe around me. We then went to the kitchen, where Amy fixed coffee. When it was ready, she poured us each a cup, took them to the table, and sat. I collapsed into the chair across from her and wrapped my hands tightly around the coffee mug. "Ready to talk?" she asked quietly. I looked at her dumbly. Not a single thing to say would come to mind. I shook my head as if to clear it. It didn't help. Amy reached across and gently stroked my arm, not rushing me, just letting me know she was there for me. "I think you may be right about seeing Dr. Simmons," was the first thing I could force out of my mouth. Amy reacted as if I had struck her. She uttered a little cry, then clamped down on her emotions. "Tell me. Please." I still couldn't think of anything to say, so I just sat motionless. "Oh, god, don't shut me out. Please don't do that." The anguish in her voice penetrated a little, and I mumbled "I'm not trying to shut you out. I just don't know how to talk about it." She absorbed that, then gently said, "Why not start at the beginning." I struggled to form the words, letting a few trickle out, starting with Jerry's awe at my/Amy's appearance. The unexpected kiss at the car door. The rebuke in the car, and the easing of hostilities by the time we got to the restaurant. As I talked, words came easier, the trickle became a stream. I described quiet classy restaurant, the food, the wine, the talk, and the agreement not to talk about work. The jazz club, good music, easy conversation, drinks. More drinks, more talk, more music. The unsteadiness I felt as we left the club. By now, the dam had burst completely, and words were just pouring out. The secluded view of the city, the talk, the warm breezes, me drifting off. The incredible sensations pulling me slowly from sleep, more stimulation, clothes magically removed, roaming hands, the ill chosen excuse to keep Jerry away from my secret. The fireworks in my chest as Jerry played me like a fine violin. How he moved my hand to his crotch, the traitorous fingers that revealed his hardness. Jerry's firmly guiding my head to his lap, and my rebellious body that started, then finished Jerry. My own eruption. The passionate kissing, the renewed tender assault on my breasts, my second coming. The kissing, then Jerry's remark that had jolted me out of my fog, and opened the torrents of regret mixed with copious tears. I ran out of words. I was drained, and slumped bonelessly across the table, my coffee long since grown cold. I heard Amy say something, but it didn't penetrate my stupor. Then she was helping me, almost carrying me, into the bedroom, and into bed. I was out almost immediately and slept like the dead. I guess I really had Amy worried. I later learned that she called several of her friends looking for advice for handling this crazy girlfriend of hers that had gone off the deep end. Sunday, October 18 When I finally awoke, it was very early morning. Sunday? Amy was draped uncomfortably across the easy chair near our bed, sleeping, twitching occasionally, uttering little cries now and then. I slipped from the bed to use the bathroom, then cleaned up. Coming back to the bedroom I found Amy still sleeping, so I left her, and went to make another pot of coffee while conflicting thoughts chased circles in my head. A few minutes later, I heard Amy shriek "Jamie!" and come running from our room. She froze when she saw me. Eventually she whispered "Are you OK?" She drifted toward me as if afraid of what I might do. I held my arms out to her, and she darted into them, holding me for dear life. "I don't know if OK is quite right. But I'm here. I am … I guess I don't know what I am. But I am not in danger of cracking at the moment." She fiercely pulled my face to hers and kissed me urgently. "You had me so worried yesterday! You seemed to just fade away. I couldn't get any response from you." She kissed me again fervently. "I don't know what I would do without you!" Guess I did have something to live for after all. A few minutes ago I had wondered about that. Amy drew me over to the couch, settled me on the cushion, and snuggled in next to me. We just sat like that for hours. My mind was still in turmoil, and I didn't know what to say to her. The phone rang a few times, but we just let it go over to the answering machine, listening as the message recorded. Mid afternoon, when Amy recognized Jerry's voice, she dashed to the phone, grabbed it off the hook, and screamed "You bastard! You absolute freaking bastard! How could you!" Amy's vehemence shocked me, but she had been under a bit of stress since I got home. I could not hear Jerry's end of the conversation, but Amy listened for a moment, then responded. "That is so not true! You got me drunk, you son of a bitch, then you took advantage of me!" Pause to listen. "How can you say that! I did no such thing!" After another pause, "I give you fair warning, pond scum, if one word of this ever gets out, to anyone, ANYONE, I will destroy your career at the medical group! And you know I can do it, too!" Amy listened again. "I should report you right now, and get your sorry ass kicked out, but for reasons you will never understand, I don't intend to do it! But let just one word of this get out, and that's the end of the road for you, boyo!" "I will be civil if I see you at work, but you had better never, ever think about touching me again!" "Because you will pull back a bloody stump if you do!" Amy slammed the phone down, then returned to me. She was so worked up, she was fairly twitching. I put my arm around her, trying to sooth her with gentle caresses, whispered endearments, nuzzles on the neck. Then I froze. "My god, Amy! What have I done? I was you last night, and I acted an absolute tramp. If this ever gets out, I've ruined your reputation!" Amy gazed levelly into my eyes, and spoke softly, "That means nothing to me right now. I am far more concerned with what I have done to you. Jamie, I am so sorry, I had no right to set you up like that, even though I expected the outcome to be much different." I saw in her eyes that she truly didn't care how my action might impact her reputation. I held her tight, and whispered, "What have I done so right that I deserve an angel like you?" Finally, I gently disengaged from Amy and drifted into the kitchen. I hadn't eaten since dinner Friday. Or more precisely since Jerry provided a little snack late Friday night. Oh, god! I wasn't really hungry, but I felt so hollow in the middle I was hoping some food would fill the desolate void. Amy came to help, and we put together two plates of things we found in the fridge. We sat and ate in silence. Just as I suspected, food did nothing for the hole in my middle. Except arouse nausea. I only finished half the plate before I couldn't take any more. Amy shooed me off to bed, saying she would clean up. I took her up on the offer. Monday, October 19 I didn't hear Amy leave in the morning, but when I finally staggered out of bed, I found a note she left on the kitchen counter. I didn't feel like eating, or doing anything else for that matter. But I decided maybe a walk would clear my head. I dressed for walking, and headed out. When I got near the spot I often met Paul, I saw him up ahead doing cool down stretches. I immediately reversed course, but he must have seen me. He called my name, and jogged to catch up. I didn't want to see him. I hid my face and kept walking toward home, telling him to leave me alone. He didn't listen, and kept coming behind me, trying to get me to stop. All this time, I had carefully not led Paul to my home, but today I didn't care. I got to the door and fumbled with my keys, finally getting the door open. Paul was trying to talk to me the whole time, but I just ignored him. When I tried to shut the door in his face, he stopped it, and pushed past me into the house. He turned and grabbed me by the upper arms, demanding to know what was wrong. When he touched my arms, I whimpered and tried to pull away, a look of terror on my face. Paul jerked back away from me as if he had been burned. "Jamie, what is it? Has someone hurt you? Please, Jamie, tell me. Please, I want to help." I looked at him, his kind look of concern, then threw myself into his arms, and started sobbing wildly. He picked me up easily, and carried me down the hall, checking rooms till he found what he figured was my room. He carried me in, stripped the covers back, and laid me gently in bed, where he calmly removed my shoes. After pulling the covers up, he crawled on top of the spread, pulled me toward him, and just held me. My sobbing settled down after a while, and I drifted into a fitful sleep. Apparently Paul called work to tell them he wouldn't be in, and spent the morning watching over me. Near noon, he found some chicken noodle soup in the kitchen, and heated it, bringing me a cup, and rousing me enough to eat. I managed to get some down, but the sobbing started again, so he climbed on top of the covers again and pulled me against him. I must have drifted off to sleep again, because the next thing I remember is hearing Amy demanding in a loud voice "What is going on here! Who are you? What have you done to her?" I came around in time to see Paul with this incredulous expression on his face, staring at Amy, clearly unable to figure out anything to say. He looked from her to me and back several times, while Amy repeated her demand. "Jamie?" he asked. "What… Who… I don't understand!" Amy walked over and pulled him bodily off the bed, trying to drag him out of the room. Paul got his feet under himself and followed, still bewildered. By that time, I was awake enough to follow, and alarmed enough about what Amy might do to follow quickly. As I got to the living room, Amy was repeating her demand and Paul was gesturing to her to calm down. "Wait, please. Are you Jamie? I thought that was Jamie in there." "I'm Amy, and what the hell are you doing in bed with Jamie?" "Amy? My name is Paul. I met Jamie walking several weeks ago, and we have become friends, meeting each other as we walk, and sometimes talking along the way. I took Jamie to meet my boss the other day about working for us. When I saw her today, she all but ran from me, and I had to find out what was wrong, so I followed her here. Then she broke down, and I carried her to bed. I didn't do anything to her, except hold her while she cried, I swear!" Amy was trying her best to calm down, and looked over at me. I nodded meakly. She said "Oh, um, well. Oh, I am sorry. You can imagine how it looked when I walked in. I appreciate you looking in on Jamie." She looked around, and saw the soup Paul had fixed. Gesturing toward it she said "And thank you for that too. I was just coming home to see if Jamie had eaten, or if I should fix something for her. Um, thanks again." He looked back and forth between us. "Just amazing, the resemblance. But can you tell me what is wrong. I really would like to help." Amy mumbled under her breath "Not unless you're willing to kill the sick bastard!" Paul focused on her. "What? Kill who?" "Huh? Oh, sorry, I am just a little upset with the jerk that caused all this." Amy seemed to remember she was talking to a stranger. "Oh, I'm sorry. I don't need to burden you with our troubles. And it's nothing I can really talk about anyway." She started ushering him toward the door. "So, it must seem really ungrateful of me to rush you out after you have been so thoughtful, but there are some things Jamie and I need to discuss." "But wait," Paul began, "Who are you? Jamie never mentioned a sister. And I don't want to leave Jamie alone in the state she's in." Paul had planted himself, and Amy was no longer making headway to the door. I spoke softly, "Thank you so much, Paul, but it would probably be better if you did leave now. I have an appointment tomorrow morning, but maybe we can talk Wednesday, if you are out walking." Paul's resistance seemed to collapse, and Amy was getting him to the door now, but he said with feeling, "Count on it!" As Amy closed the door behind Paul, she said, "Bye, Paul. Nice to meet you." We couldn't make out the muffled reply through the closed door. Amy turned and sagged against the door a moment, then drew herself up, came to me, and guided me to the couch. When we were seated, she asked quietly, "Are you alright?" "Not sure. Don't think so. Maybe Dr. Simmons can get me started untangling all this tomorrow." Amy was lost in thought a few minutes, gazing into space. She finally said quietly "Nice friend you have there," gesturing toward the door with her chin. "Handsome." "Yeah." Amy ate a lukewarm cup of the left over soup Paul had heated, then had to get back to her patients. "No more knights in shining armor in here this afternoon, OK?" she teased. I sheepishly said, "Aw, you take all the fun out of a girl's life." I don't know if Amy wanted to giggle or cry. What came out was a strangled "Mmmfp", then she was gone. I stayed on the couch and zoned out for a long time. Thinking of everything and nothing. Didn't matter much to me which. I was shocked when I heard Amy letting herself in the front door. I hadn't moved all afternoon! She made us some supper, which I picked at, more moving it around with my fork than eating. Amy said exasperatedly "Jamie, you've got to eat something! You're making yourself sick!" I just said, "Whatever." Tuesday, October 20 Amy slipped out of bed and the house without waking me, but left an alarm set so I could make my 11:00 appointment. When it woke me, I immediately noticed my scalp was itching terribly, and my hair was lank and greasy feeling. I had the irrelevant thought "Oh, great, this is how Paul saw me yesterday!" But then I figured that becoming aware of self-care issues was a positive sign. I stripped and deposited everything in the hamper, then climbed into the hot shower and proceeded to wash my hair three times. When I got out, I patted dry, and used Amy's body powder all over, marveling again at the sleek smoothness of my skin. I was still naked when the phone rang, but just strolled over to the bedside phone to answer it. It was Sandy, concerned, since we were supposed to meet at her office Saturday. My mouth formed into an O as I recalled there was a problem with my hormones we heeded to discuss. It got lost amongst all the other crises. She figured when I didn't show Saturday that I would come in yesterday, and when I didn't she started getting really concerned. I asked if she had any time this afternoon, which she did, and told her I would bring her up-to-date then. I wanted to try to start feeling good about myself again, so I took extra care dressing. Pretty, feminine, but demure. Then I made my way to Rick's office. He was running just a bit late, but I was seated across from him by 11:10. He introduced himself, said to call him Rick, and told me what Amy and he had discussed. He said Amy had thought I would be resistant to the idea of counseling, so he was glad to see me here. I told him that last week I had been, but that events had changed my mind, and I now had great expectations from his services. "OK, so what is it that you expect to come of this?" I knew what I wanted, but had never tried to put it into a coherent statement, so it took a while before I could answer. "I expect your help to stay intact though the Halloween party, and then help me make the transition back to being James." "Are you sure that is what you want?" "Absolutely. I love my wife, and I want nothing more than to be her husband and the father of our children for the rest of my life!" "And if that cannot happen, what then?" That idea shook me. "That is not acceptable. That is not an outcome that I can allow." "Nonetheless, what if that is the way it plays out?" I'm sure my expression showed my dismay. "I don't know. That is not a situation I can easily accept. I just don't know. Certainly, no matter what, I want to be with Amy, if she will have me in whatever form I come out of this." My voice became pleading. "Please, you've got to promise me this will come out right!" He leaned toward me and said gently "That is not something I can promise. What I can promise is that I will try my best to make this come out the way you need it to." I noticed that he wasn't promising to work for the outcome I had stated, just for what was best for me. The rest of the session was just a feeling out phase. He was trying to gain my trust, and also trying to understand how he might help. He suggested we meet twice a week until at least Halloween, then renegotiate the first appointment after the party. That meeting is where we would make plans for my transition back, and he made me promise I would not undertake procedures to undo the physical changes until then. That kind of bummed me out, but I grudgingly agreed. When I left, I called Amy's office, but she had just sent out for a sandwich, and was trying to catch up on patients through her supposed lunch break. So I dejectedly headed off to see if I could get myself to eat something. I did, but just barely. I only ate half of the light lunch I ordered. My appointment with Sandy was still a couple hours away, so I headed to the local electronics megastore, hoping to immerse myself in what had been heaven for James. Whether it was my frazzled mental state, or because I was not James anymore, I did not enjoy my time there. I stubbornly stuck it out until I needed to leave for Sandy's, hoping to rekindle an interest, but it was no go. At Sandy's, I was immediately led to an examining room, and told to strip and don the flimsy gown. I was also asked to remove the gaff that was fastened with surgical adhesive to my crotch. Fortunately I carry a bottle of the solvent in my purse for emergencies. I realized the only times I had had the gaff off in the last two weeks were to clean it, and give the covered skin a couple hours to breathe. Recently, I just felt more comfortable looking somewhat realistic down there. Sandy was looking grave when she walked in. "Hello, James." This was the first time she had used my male name since this started. "There is a problem. Please lay back, I need to examine your penis and testes." That got the adrenaline pumping! She poked and prodded, rolled the testicles between her latex coated fingers. Squeezed lightly and asked about the sensation. She asked about my last erection, and the volume and color of the ejaculate. She paused, collecting her thoughts for a minute, then said, "James, I feel so badly about this. A mistake was made during your first appointment, and then compounded later. I don't know who is to blame, my nurse or myself, but the hormone implants we used that first day were 60 day implants, not the 30 day that I had intended. Then, 30 days later, the nurse used the same implants as the chart noted from the first appointment. There are two problems here. First, you have been getting double hormones since the second implant. Everything accelerated ahead of the expected schedule, the rapid breast development, the lost erections, the shift in emotions and perceptions. This also increases the impact of the hormones on your ability to recover after cessation. You remember that 3 months was what we considered the maximum safe term, and that we were planning only 2 months. The intense hormones have cut those 3 months down by an indeterminate amount. It may even now be too late, though based on my exam, I don't think so. However, that leads us to the second problem. A 60 day implant added after 30 days will mean the termination of hormones after 90 days, three months, pushing the original limit. Given the extreme level of hormones in your body, 90 days is well past any hope of recovery." I stared at her in stunned disbelief. "You mean, there is no possible way I will ever return to being a functioning male?" "Not without serious intervention, no." Was she holding out a ray of hope? "What kind of intervention?" "The possibilities include counter treatment with testosterone, and surgical removal of the implants, quite possibly both." "Lets do it!" "Not so fast, Jamie. Sorry, James. The introduction of enough testosterone to do any good into your already hormone saturated system would put great stress on your body." "OK, if not that, would the implant removal be enough?" "Maybe, if…" "If what." "This is so hard. The implants tend to fragment and migrate over time. Your first set is almost at term, and we would be unlikely to find enough to remove. The second set has been in place over three weeks. While we should be able to get a significant portion out, it is likely we will not get it all. The result of both those facts is that you will probably have a much lower, but still significant level of hormones and anti-androgens in your system, tapering off as the end of the third month approaches. Whether that reduction will be enough to save your testes is very much in question." "What is the impact of the surgical removal?" "Well, if we assume the implant has fragmented and migrated, as I suggested, there would be considerable probing required, possibly several incisions. While there will be no noticeable scarring as a result, there will be some bruising for a few days, and you will be in some amount of pain, probably for a week or more." By this point, I was defeated. I said "I can't handle this on my own right now. I need Amy to help decide. I will talk to her about it tonight. When can we do the extraction?" "I had hoped to do it today, but if you feel Amy should be involved, if you decide to go ahead, we will do it tomorrow, even if we have to work half the night after my regular schedule!" I didn't think there was anywhere lower I could go. I start out trying to be upbeat, then Rick hints that there may be no way back for me. Now Sandy almost made that a guarantee. I made it home, I'm not sure how, but I found myself sitting on the sofa when Amy came in the door. With macabre humor I asked "How would you like to have a sister instead of a husband?" Amy stopped half way to me, frozen in place. "What are you telling me!" she demanded. I broke down in tears, and told her of my dilemma. She had settled beside me by then. She firmly pulled me around and made me look her in the eyes. "I just have one question. Do you want to be James?" "Yes!" I was emphatic. "Then we will get you back. Some way, some how. We will get as much of the implant as possible out of you tomorrow, then we will get Dr. Simmons to guide you back. Failure is not an option. The only way, THE ONLY WAY, I will not have my husband back is if he chooses to be Jamie, then I will support and love her with all my heart!" I found it ironic that today, when my chances of being male again were the least to date, I had been called James more than any time since this all started. Wednesday, October 21 Wednesday was a morass of grief, pity, and self doubt for me, but I managed to get to the small inpatient clinic the medical group maintained by the appointed hour, 5:00 pm. Sandy could have done it outpatient in her office, but wanted the option, in fact planned to keep me in over at least one night. I was wheeled to an operating room, sedated, and when I came to, I wondered where I was, maybe even who I was. I was in no pain, thanks to the medication, but that would come soon enough. When I was lucid enough to really see what was around me, Amy was there, and the sky was starting to lighten with the dawn outside the windows. As I moved, I became aware of what seemed like a lot of padding on my rump. Bandages. Well, what did you expect, Jamie girl, after all, the implants were placed in ye olde gluteus maximus. Great place for them, unless you want to get them back out. I croaked, and Amy was quickly at my side, with a glass of water and a straw. She carefully helped me drink, and I collapsed back into the bed. When I could finally talk, I said "Have you slept at all?" She looked away, "A little." "How did it go?" "Sandy thinks she got most of it, but we won't know until me monitor your hormone levels for a while. She has also been in contact with some hormone specialists to research ways to counteract the drugs, especially the spironolactone. That has the most impact on your testes." "Any luck?" "Maybe, she has to do some more checking. We are also hopeful that the greatly diminished supply will let you start to recover without additional help." "Oh." Amy carefully wrapped me in her arms and cooed softly in my ear, about her love for me, about her guilt and shame, about how we will be together always. I needed that, at least the first and last. I held on like a drowning man clings to a life preserver. That was what she was to me, my only hope in a dark and stormy sea. Finally she kissed me tenderly, longingly, and said she had to get home and cleaned up for the day, as she had patients depending on her. Sandy came in about an hour later, still an hour or more before the normal start of her day. She looked a bit ragged, but it appeared she had had a nap and a shower, unlike Amy. She asked how the pain was, and went over the same things Amy had told me. It didn't cheer me up any, but then it didn't bring me down more either. She told me the nursing staff would care for me today, and she would check about 4:00 to see if I could go home with Amy this evening. Now that thought cheered me up a little. After a day of fitful sleep, interspersed with bored wakefulness, I was released into my wife's loving care about 5:30. Amy was looking pretty rough, and I knew I couldn't look any better. We ate a bit when we got home, and both collapsed into bed. Thursday, October 22 I woke in some pain Wednesday morning, rousing when Amy climbed out of bed. She gave me some tablets, and I joked that I hoped they were not hormone tablets. Amy looked guiltily away, and I assured her I was only trying to lighten the mood. I felt bad that I had hurt her so carelessly. After Amy left, I drifted in the floaty state common with the stronger pain meds. About 9:00 the doorbell rang, and I was almost lucid enough to know what I was doing as I opened it. It was Paul, and my first thought was "I look like hell!" I invited him in, as I was not up to standing at the door. He scooped me up and carried me to the couch, then sat in the chair close by. "I was worried about you. I expected to see you yesterday. I rang the bell, but no one answered. When you didn't show today either, I was afraid something had happened." "Oh, I am so sorry, Paul, I had a minor surgical procedure Tuesday evening, and was out of it all day yesterday. I never thought to call you. Can you forgive me?" "Jamie! There is nothing to forgive! I have just been so worried about you. You were so… so beaten when I saw you Monday, not the pretty, vivacious lady that I have come to know and care for. I just wanted to do what I could to get that wonderful lady back!" I blushed, but could not think of anything to say. So Paul finally continued. "I want to help. Please let me. I am a good listener." I glanced at him, then hung my head. I don't know why, but I had to try to talk to someone. "It was last Friday. I went out with a man from Amy's work. After a nice evening, I was a little drunk. I dozed off, and he…" gulp, this is so hard, "he took advantage of me." By now tears were trickling from my eyes. "Oh, Jamie, I am so sorry. Now I understand Amy's comment about killing the bastard!" "There's more. Um. It was my first time…" big deep breath, "… as a woman." "That son of a bitch, maybe I'll do what Amy said." Paul suddenly stopped, was silent a few minutes as I hung my head. "Wait. As a woman?" A huge sob worked its way from deep in my gut and burst forth. "Yes." Silence. I was afraid to look at his face. Finally he said, "I don't understand." I glanced at his face, and quickly back down. "I am not a woman, Paul, at least I wasn't, and I wasn't supposed to stay one. This was all part of something way too complicated to explain to someone not in on it from the beginning. Two months ago, I was James, very happily married to Amy. Two weeks from now, I was supposed to be James, very happily married to Amy. In the mean time, I am in what was to be a very elaborate, and temporary, disguise for Halloween. Amy's double. The reason that I seemed such a 'pretty, vivacious lady' is because I have learned to be Amy, and that is exactly what she is. The most incredible creature on the face of this earth." I ran out of steam, and wilted back into the cushions. I could not believe I told someone else the story. I had dumped a huge load on Paul, so I closed my eyes, and gave him time to digest it. I was too drained to do anything else, anyway. Paul made a strangled sound in his throat, and I opened my eyes to look at him. "She is pretty incredible, because I fell in love with her without ever meeting her. I fell in love with you." I wailed "Noooo. You can't!" and squeezed my eyes shut against a new flood of tears that threatened. Then whispered "I think I fell a bit in love with you, too." Then stronger, "but that is in a make believe world, and cannot, must not happen in the real world. You're a pretty great guy, from what I can tell, Paul. I never meant to hurt you." "I know," he sighed, then had a thought. "But you said, 'supposed to be James in two weeks'. Is this a complication of what that SOB did to you?" "No, just an accidental overdose of meds that may mean I can never fully be a man again." I couldn't stop the tears any longer, and they flowed down my cheeks as I wailed "Oh, Paul, I may have lost Amy forever, at least my marriage to her." Paul moved to the couch and pulled me into his arms, stroking my hair and making soothing sounds, letting me cry myself out, telling me everything would be alright. Paul made soup again for lunch, and we ate together. Neither of us could think of much to say. Paul left soon after, demanding that I call on him if there was anything he could do. He asked when I might walk again, and I told him probably not before Monday. I took another pain pill, and slept most of the afternoon. Amy brought home Chinese take-out, and woke me when she had things ready to eat. I went to bed while she cleared things away, and was asleep before she got to the bedroom. Friday, October 23 I woke early the next day, seeing by the alarm clock that Amy would not need to rise of another hour. I was feeling much better, though my bottom was still uncomfortable. I propped myself on my side so I could gaze at Amy sleeping, and let my mind wander. I thought how lucky I was to have such a beautiful, loving wife. That someone as incredible as her had chosen, and really seemed to love, someone as unprepossessing as me! It was beyond understanding. I was small, for a man, even though I was of a height with Amy, who was rather tall for a woman, at 5' 8", and while not puny, I was light at my former 145. Then my mind wandered to the future. What would I do if I was sterile and impotent? Would I try to go back to being James, knowing I could never make love to Amy again? Knowing I would prevent her from having a child, at least the normal way? Or should I stay Jamie? Could I live with Amy dating and loving another man, if that was her best chance at long term happiness? That thought staggered me. And what of me, if I became a woman? Would Amy and I be lesbian lovers? We had enjoyed the novelty of a pseudo-lesbian relationship, but I couldn't see Amy doing it long term. If I got my own vagina to replace a non-functional dick, could I let a man in there? Could I feel comfortable enough with a man to do that? Surprisingly, I decided the answer was probably yes. But could I 'cheat' on Amy by willingly sleeping with someone else? Even though I could no longer be her husband? I had my doubts about that one. Amy was the center of my life. I had dedicated myself to her with my wedding vows, and even though circumstances had conspired to lead me to cheat once (with Jerry), I still didn't feel unfaithful to her, or our vows. Nor could I imagine willingly violating them later, even should this end our legal marriage. I decided I didn't want to think down that path anymore, so I turned to the more immediate future, the time leading up to and immediately after the party. What to do? Bail out now? Go through with the original charade at the party? A middle ground, attend the party, but skip the impersonation? I couldn't see any real advantage to ending the challenge now. What could be done to salvage my manhood was happening whether I quit or not. And there was the flip side that had gotten buried in the newness of being a woman, the original reason for the challenge. I couldn't quit on pain of alienating Sandy. So, that eliminated the first option. Just survive Halloween? Or try to enjoy it as much as possible. That is what the other two options came down to. I know I could use some enjoyment about now, and I figured Amy needed some as well. Besides, if we got into it, it could distract us from the time bomb ticking inside my body that we could only wait out. So the best option as I saw it was to go all out. Hone my Amy impersonation so we could milk it for all it was worth that night. Get both Amy and I so engaged in the deception that we could forget our worries and have a blast at the party. Amy stirred. I looked at the clock, and saw it was a few minutes till the alarm, so I reached to turn it off. I then started gently stroking Amy's face, breasts, outer thighs, calves, feet, then back up again. Amy sighed and rolled onto her back. I took advantage of this full access to her breasts, and sucked one nipple into my mouth while lightly tweaking the other with a painted fingernail. Amy moaned, and pushed her tit up into my mouth, so I sucked harder as I pinched and twisted the other nipple. Her breathing grew heavier, even though she had not opened her eyes yet. I pulled back slightly and blew on the moist point, causing it to chill, and watched it pucker up and become more erect. I switched sides, and continued my ministrations. She was almost panting by this time. Her eyes flew open, than the lids sank back languidly. She looked at me through the lowered lids and breathed "Morning, lover." I pulled back to answer, but she wailed "Nooo, don't stop!" So I didn't, attacking with greater intensity, frequently switching breasts, but keeping the ground assault active on the other puckered bud. It wasn't long before Amy went rigid, gasped, then shook in orgasm. I eased my ministrations, and let her float slowly back to earth. I was thinking, 'Amy can get off with just her tits being stimulated too!' After Jerry's comment about me, that made me feel better about myself. "Oh, honey, it has been so long. That was wonderful!" I had to agree. I know I had enjoyed it, and from my point of view, it looked like Amy had as well. She suddenly pushed me over on my back, swung across and zeroed in on my limp prick. In an instant it was sucked deep within her mouth, and it was my turn to moan. Her hand found one of my breasts to massage and tweak as she did wonderful things with her lips, tongue, and teeth for about the next 10 minutes. Then I repeated her behavior to a 'T'. My body went rigid as a gasp escaped my lips, then my whole body shook, and I was somewhere above the clouds. This was just what I had imagined Amy felt as I watched her a bit ago. She continued loving my still soft penis, extending the feelings as I calmed down. She moved up beside me, and said quietly "It's not my first choice, but I could get used to this if we end up without other alternatives." God, I loved this woman. It was well after alarm time, so she hopped up quickly and went to shower. I got up, and in spite of the discomfort in my butt, felt mentally better than I had since that fateful day last Friday. I fixed coffee and something for Amy to eat while she dressed, then told her of my thoughts about the party as she quickly wolfed down the food. She smiled, the first one I had seen in a while, and said she agreed. With a devilish grin she added we would have to work up something really spectacular! Then she was gone for the day. I went to get ready to see Dr. Simmons. I determined I was going to take pride in my appearance, man or woman. I scrubbed my hair, and spend extra time making it look nice. Looking at my reflection in the mirror, I saw a very slender, blonde beauty looking back, one with the hollowed out cheekbone look so in vogue with models these days. I had always thought Amy could be a model, and now, so could I. Especially if I had the final operation. I knew I had lost 10 pounds the first month of this craziness. Out of curiosity, I stepped on the bathroom scale, and saw I had dropped to 123. Another 12 lbs.! Even with the extra weight in my boobs, I weighed two pounds less than Amy did when this started. But then, I had hardly eaten for the last week. I hadn't worn the corset recently, too many other distractions. I pulled it around my waist and did up the hooks. It just hung loosely against my waist, resting on my hips. I wondered if I would even feel it if it was laced up, but I could not do it by myself. Removing the corset, I measured my waist, to find it was down to 20". That was what Amy had measured WITH the corset. I put on some of my sexiest lingerie. I wanted to feel good about myself, and since I was a woman right now, that meant looking my girlish best. More special attention to makeup. Full daytime warpaint, not my usual slapdash. Then I searched the closet to find something that fit my mood. What I found was a sky blue full skirt that hung beautifully to mid calf, and would swirl out very full if I twirled around, an ivory silk blouse that I left unbuttoned to show off my cleavage, and a little heart pendant that hung between my breasts. Inside were tiny pictures of Amy and I from before our wedding. I spritzed some of Amy's perfume in a few strategic spots, and I was ready. It felt great to be outdoors again, and I breathed deep as I walked in to Dr. Simmons' building. After a bit of a wait, I was shown into his office, and settled into the indicated chair. Rick was a bit surprised by my appearance, apparently having talked to Amy yesterday. He was aware of my hormone trouble, so I didn't have to explain. He asked what led to my cheerful attitude, and attention to personal grooming. "I've done a lot of thinking, and I've realized something. I want to be James again, more than any but one thing. That one thing is that I want to spend the rest of my life with Amy. And I have come to believe that we can be happy with me either as James, or as Jamie. I think we would both prefer it was James, but we will survive, and love as much if it has to be Jamie." He pondered that, then filed it away for later examination. Then the gentle probing questions started. I answered them as truthfully and completely as possible, and only teared up once or twice when a particular question brought home what I may have lost. Rick: "Do you think you are homosexual, that is lesbian, as Jamie?" Me: "No. I think probably bi." Risk: "Could you make love to a man as Jamie?" Me: "Under the right circumstances, probably, but I have no wish to be unfaithful to Amy." Rick: "You answer yes, even after what happened on your 'date'?" Me: "Yes, even after that. There are men I have met that I think I would feel comfortable making love to. I don't think all men are like my 'date'." The questioning continued for the rest of the hour, never advising, sometimes asking for clarification, always leading me to a destination I could not yet envision. He was letting me talk out my feelings, and let me realize for myself what was best. I felt it would be a long time before I was able to decide that, even with his careful queries. Just before the end of my hour, he asked "You have settled in awfully quickly as a woman. Even confirmed transsexuals often take years to get to the ease, grace, and looks that you have gained in less than two months. Why do you think that is?" "Well, after the initial shock of the cosmetic procedures, I knew it was just a disguise. And it was for an excellent cause, making my wife happy by regaining harmony with her best friend. So I threw myself into it, whole heartedly, knowing I would resume my role as Amy's husband when it was over. And the best thing about it was that all I had to do was what I loved to do. I had to learn everything about Amy. How she moved, how she reacted in all circumstances, how she smelled, and thought, and smiled, and gestured. In short, I had absolute permission to study as much as I wanted the thing I loved most. And we made it fun. Also, it was exciting, sexually, for both of us, until I lost my ability to perform. Even for a while after, until the hormones or whatever toned down my desire. By now, the preparations, and the mannerisms have just become so, um, normal, that it is just easier to be female, then to not. And I expect tremendous benefit when I am James again, in terms of understanding my wife, being able to read her moods in her actions, to anticipate, and so love her even better." Rick had listened without interruption, and when I finished, indicated he would see me next Tuesday. Afterward, I would have loved lunch with Amy, but that wouldn't work, so, on the spur of the moment, I drove down town, entered Paul's building and arrived at his desk unannounced, hoping he would be there. And maybe partly hoping he would not. My luck was good, he was there. Or maybe it was bad, we would see. He looked up in surprise, then in admiration as he scanned my body. "Hello, Jamie." "Oh, sure it's not Amy?" I teased. "Yeah," was his quiet reply. "Identical as you are, I can tell the difference." That brought some heat to my cheeks. "So, are we on speaking terms after the other day?" "As Jamie, or as Amy?" he kidded. Then answered "Yeah." I screwed up my courage, and asked, "So, you free for lunch today?" "No." My face fell. "But I will get free. Give me just a minute." He disappeared down the hall. Before he returned, Mr. Johnson came by, and perked up when he saw me. "Thought any more about our offer?" He asked. "Actually, yes, I am seriously considering it, but I cannot give you a decision yet." "Well, that's progress I guess. We are all hoping you say yes, especially Paul." he said with a grin. Paul returned and said he was good to go, so I waved bye to Mr. Johnson, and Paul ushered me to the elevators. Paul led me to one of those old-fashioned diners, the kind with the long counter along one long side wall, a narrow aisle, and a single row of booths along the other. We passed several open booths to get to the last one toward the back. We slid in across from each other, and Paul just stared at me for a minute. "You're looking good today, much better than the last time I saw you." "Thanks. I've had time to do some thinking. I've realized that gender is not that important to me. I'd prefer to get back to my original self, but if not, I can live with this, and even like it." We paused while the waitress dropped some menus, took our drink order, then moved away. "Wow. I don't think I could be that accepting about it. I guess too much of me is wrapped up in masculinity." I smiled sadly, "Yup, that's you alright. Even at my macho best, I was never like you. I was always more… Hmm. androgynous doesn't seem quite right, but something like that. Amy always said I was man enough for her, but I think it was more a matter of being soulmates, not gender roles. The fact that I was marginally male just made it easier, and more socially acceptable to get together." "Damn, I can't believe you're a man! You really threw me for a loop when you told me that." "Well", I grinned, "not much of a man at the moment!" spreading my arms to the side, thrusting my chest out, and swiveling my torso side to side a little. We both laughed. "Boy, it feels good to laugh, it's been a while." "Yeah, with what you've been going through, I bet! So, how are things? You and Amy doing OK?" "Yeah, we are. I think we're gonna make it no matter which way this thing goes." "So I don't stand a chance with you, huh?" he said with mock hurt. At least I hope it was mock. But I played it like it was a joke, hoping it was. "Nope, already spoken for, studmuffin. But you make a great friend." "Yeah, that's me, always the bridesmaid, never the bride!" "Oh, pooh. There's some great gal just waiting to be scooped up by you!" His answer was soft, "Yeah, I thought I'd found her this time." But then he grinned, "but if you're taken, and you say you're a knockoff of Amy, maybe I should make a play for the original, ya think?" I swatted his arm across the table, and said "Hands off, buster! That original is mine!" The waitress brought our drinks, and asked for our order. Of course, we hadn't opened the menu yet, so she had to come back. The place was pretty good. The seasoning on my grilled chicken sandwich was super. I watched Paul put away a half pound burger with all the trimmings, and fries, and thought about the old days when I ate like that. My how things have changed! I did manage to steal a couple fries off his plate when he wasn't looking. Well, maybe he just let me get away with it. It was good to have someone to just talk to. It was something I had been missing since I left my full time job for consulting work. Paul insisted on picking up the check, much to my chagrin. Before we left, I asked him how it would go if it was James who took the consulting contract with his company. Paul looked sad, but said there should be no problem. We walked outside, and separated, me to my car, and Paul back to his office. Back home, I had more energy than I had had for the past week. I reflected that it was a week ago tonight I had the fateful date with Jerry. But I had finally come to terms with what I now was, and what I might be in the future. I changed into shorts and a halter top tied under my breasts, and tore into some serious housecleaning. I hadn't been helping out much recently, and the state of the house showed it. By the time Amy came home, I had made serious inroads on the cleaning, and I had a nice meal waiting for the finishing touches. Being married to a doctor, I had long since learned how to put a meal together that could wait indefinitely for a late arrival, and then take only a few minutes to turn out a fresh, hot meal. It felt really good to be contributing again. Amy was impressed. She came to me, and gathered me in her arms, so our breasts were pressed together, and out mouths were centimeters apart. "Come here, you!" she breathed. "I love you so much! And I am so glad to see you come out of the funk you have been in for a week." With that, she kissed me deeply, and then the final preparations had to wait a while more. We worked each others clothes off as we moved to the bedroom, leaving a trail behind us. We made slow, gentle love for what seemed like hours. Well, mostly gentle. It did get rather physical there for a while. While we finished preparing dinner and ate, I talked with Amy about why I was functioning better, about my decision that my male gender was important, but not nearly so important to me as she was. That now I believed I would be with her no matter how the gender thing came out, I could live, and enjoy either result. What we did in the bedroom just now was kind of a confirmation of that, even if it was not the same as it was back when I was a man. She warned me that even if I really believed that, my emotional troubles were far from over, whichever way I went. I reflected she was probably very right. I slept better that night than I had for quite a while. Saturday, October 24 The next morning, Amy suggested we take a weekend away, drive up to the mountains and get a room, some time just to be with each other, away from our everyday burdens. I asked, but she said she was not on call this weekend. So we packed a bag with clothes that either of us could wear, tossed it in the car, and headed for the hills. The weather was beautiful, as it normally is this time of year. We drove with the windows down and the wind swirling our hair until the altitude got high enough that it was too chilly. We stopped at a little chalet by a stream. It housed a Swiss themed restaurant where we ate lunch. About mid afternoon, we found a little inn with a vacancy, set off the highway, back in the tall trees. We checked in, and carried the bag into our room. We traded the shorts and cropped tops we were wearing for warmer clothes and sturdy shoes, and took off walking to explore the area. We returned somewhat worn out. All the up and down took a lot more energy than the flatland walking I was used to. And Amy wasn't even used to that! We ate supper in the little café adjacent to the inn, then returned to our room, and soaked our aching muscles in the Jacuzzi. We soaked too long, and were limp as noodles and wrinkled as prunes when we emerged. We donned matching silk nighties and crawled in bed. Sunday, October 25 When we rose Sunday, we packed our bag and checked out before finding a place for breakfast. At the diner, we asked about scenic drives in the area, and several of the male customers were more than happy to offer their suggestions to two pretty girls. With all the advice, we were more confused then when we first asked, but between Amy and I, we pieced enough 'advice' together to select a well maintained back road to drive higher into the surrounding mountains. We enjoyed the scenery, stopping occasionally at pretty shaded streams, or scenic overlooks. A little after 1:00 we came upon a small village, and found a cozy place to eat lunch. We then asked directions back to the city, and found the help much more useful than what we received this morning. We continued to enjoy the beautiful countryside, occasional stops with short walks in the cool air, and toward evening, with still an hour or so drive to home, we stopped for dinner. We had had a wonderful time, and Amy seemed refreshed for the week ahead. And then, of course, next Saturday was the party. Monday, October 26 I rose with Amy, and fixed coffee and fruit while she showered and dressed. We ate, then I kissed her goodbye as she left for the day. I think this was the first day in over a week, maybe even longer, that she wasn't concerned to leave me alone. I eagerly donned my walking clothes, reveling in the tight, formfitting pink leotard and royal blue short shorts. I used leggings this morning, as the day hadn't warmed up yet. I put on my pink trimmed walking socks, and the feminine walking shoes with the pink laces. I marveled that I was trying so to look feminine for just a walk around the park, but then, I was expecting to see Paul! I wondered again just what I was up too. I locked up, walked down the street to the park, and entered the walking path. As I approached the place I normally met Paul, he was not there, and my spirits plunged, until I heard someone calling me. Paul was hurrying along, trying to get my attention. As I waited for his approach, I watched him moving. Yes, he was a well turned out man. Not that I had been ugly, or unpleasing in appearance, but I would never have been considered a hunk. Paul arrived, and I fell in step with him this time. He greeted me cheerfully, and we chatted while we made the two circuits of the walking trail. When we neared the place I normally split off, I asked him if he was up for a third round. He declined, as he had a meeting at work this morning. I continued on my way, and he left. I mused as he left how lucky he was to have the flexibility in his work schedule that he could be out here now, when most working stiffs would have been at their desks for hours already. Then I realized he was still not as fortunate is I, with my 'work anytime as long as the job is done on time' consulting schedule. I returned home after the third lap, and soaked in a hot bath, spiced with scented bath oil. I had missed this when I was wearing the corset full time. But I didn't really need the corset anymore. If anyone did, it was Amy, I thought with a smile. I decided this would be a good time to check the fit of our Jeannie costumes, so I pulled them from the back of the closet. I had to study them for a while to figure out how they were worn. It was made up of several parts, done in primarily two fabrics, red velvet and rose colored silk, some transparent, some opaque. The parts in red velvet had silver piping for trim. The bottom was a sort of red velvet girdle and nearly transparent rose silk pantaloons. The girdle rode very low on the hips, and extended down only maybe 4", ending just above the pubic mound. The silk pantaloons extended loose and baggy till they were gathered with elastic at the ankle. They were colorful, but hid nothing! It was a good thing there were opaque rose silk panties to wear under the girdle! The top was in two parts, a "bra" made of transparent rose silk, gathered tightly below the breasts, coming up over the breasts somewhat loosely and tight again above, leaving lots of cleavage visible. Thankfully, there was an opaque silk lining that fit snugly over the breasts and gave some support. The second piece of the top was a red velvet bolero jacket that came down to the bottom of the boobs, and easily lacked 8 inches of closing in front, leaving a clear view of the bosom gently enfolded in very little silk. Finally, there was a hat, kind of a tapered pillbox, done in red velvet with a transparent silk veil that looped below the chin rather than covering the face. Well, there's no time like the present. Musing that there was nothing else needed, I stripped naked, and started putting on the various pieces. The bottom was snugged with elastic, and rode about like hipster panties, barely covering the top of my pubic hair. The pantaloons were long, but when the elastic gathers snugged around my ankles, they billowed out nicely. The bra was something else. Remember, both Amy and I were up two cup sizes since we bought these. To say my cups runneth over would be an understatement. This would barely be considered decent! The jacket was pushed way out in front by my increased bust line. The hat was intended to fit over braided hair coiled on top of my head. But I wasn't up to that today. That would be for the salon Saturday morning. I slipped into the shoes. Oops, those must be Amy's. Yup, the other pair fits better. I viewed the final result in the full length mirror. This costume may not be absolutely authentic, but it surely was sexy! This was going to be fun, once I got past all my blushes! I left the costume on for a while to try to get used to it. Then I had a wicked thought. I called Paul to see if he could come by tomorrow before we walked, as I had something to show him. Before long, I was pretty used to the heels. They were higher than most I had worn, but I had gotten quite a bit of practice in heels this past two months. Except for the exposure, the costume was very comfortable. Which was good, because there would be enough other things making me uncomfortable the night of the party. Before making lunch, I carefully removed and repacked the costume. I didn't want to take a chance on staining it before we could use it. After lunch, I attacked the housecleaning again, determined to get the house completely back into shape the rest of this week. Dinner was waiting almost ready when Amy got home. She joked about what a great housewife I made. I reflected that she wasn't far off. As we ate, I asked about her day, then told her about the cleaning, and trying on the costume. After dinner, I stripped Amy and helped her into her costume as well. We giggled over how much cleavage our DD boobs showed in the undersized tops. Just to see the effect, I redressed in my costume as well. The resemblance was amazing. With our hair now colored to match, the only thing that clearly told us apart was our eye color. I set up the digital camera on the tripod, and had it snap several pictures, with us in various increasingly silly poses. I wanted to remember this escapade for a long time. Tuesday, October 27 Tuesday morning, I showered with Amy, then helped her dress, and we made breakfast together. Well, breakfast was rather rushed because we had spent way too much time in the shower. When she was gone, I ran excitedly to the bedroom, dragged out the costumes, and for the third time, pulled everything on. I wanted nothing to distract today, so I used the adhesive to firmly attach the gaff. I left off the shoes and hat, and grabbed a floor length terrycloth robe, ready for when Paul arrived. When the doorbell rang, I pulled the robe tightly around me and answered the door, inviting Paul to wait in the living room. I scampered back to the bedroom, closed the door, shed the robe, and slipped into the shoes. I adjusted the hat on my head as I moved down the hall. All was ready before I emerged in the living room. Paul heard the tap of my heels, and turned toward me as I entered the room. His mouth dropped open, as he stood in stunned silence. I batted my lashes at him and asked shyly, "Like?" Paul had to try a couple times before anything would come out of his mouth. Finally he managed "Yeah!" which made me giggle. I walked toward him, stopping at the halfway point to pirouette, then stopped to look at him. He was still frozen in place. I got a devilish grin on my face, and eased slowly up to him, reached up on each side of his head, pulled his head toward mine, and kissed him full on the mouth. Paul pulled up in shock, and stumbled back a couple of half steps. I realized what I had done, and said "I'll be ready in a sec" as I rushed to the bedroom. I closed the door and leaned back against it, as my heart beat wildly. Then I pulled myself up and quickly stripped, laying the costume across the bed. I pulled on the walking clothes I had laid out, slipped into the walking shoes, and headed for the front door, calling for Paul to follow. I set a stiff pace walking that morning, trying to outrun my mortification. I didn't succeed. Paul easily kept up, of course, but it was well into the second loop of the path before either of us said anything. "Sorry about that", I said. "Nothing to be sorry about. I always enjoy a kiss from a beautiful woman! Just a little surprised, I guess. I seem to be getting a lot of mixed signals around here recently." "Yeah, sorry about that, too. I guess my head isn't screwed on as straight as I had thought." The stiff pace had me breathing hard by this point, but I wouldn't let up. When we finished the third circuit, Paul said "See you later in the week, maybe." I mumbled some reply as I rushed toward the safe haven of home. I quickly showered, as I had another appointment with Dr, Simmons at 11:00. I prepared myself double quick today. When I was ready, I was satisfied with my looks, but it wasn't up to last Friday's standard. I suspected Rick would notice, and have some thoughts about this too. I barely made it on time, and was soon seated in Rick's office. Rick had to work a little hard to get me started this time. I figured he knew something was up. I finally loosened up, and then it all came rushing out. About the kiss. About my guilt over it. Even about my lunch with Paul last Friday, and my new awareness of what it might have meant, not just a meeting of two buddies. That's one of the things I hate about psychologists. They never say anything directly. They always answer a question with a question. They always try to make you figure out the answers with their carefully worded questions. Well, today I wanted none of that. I wanted answers! And I proceeded to tell Rick that, in no uncertain terms. He sat back and listened to my tirade, then asked if that had made me feel any better. Another damn question! "No!" I huffed. "I won't feel better till I get some bloody answers, not just more bloody questions! I have enough questions in my life, I don't need any more right now!" Rick sat back and steepled his fingers in front of his nose. Boy, do they teach that move in psychologist school? I decided I wasn't going to say another thing till I got something from him. Anything! So we sat in silence, Rick looking at me expectantly, patiently. I just sat there fuming. The clock ticked around, and I was more determined than ever not to give in. Time finally ran out, and he reminded me of Friday's appointment, the last before the party. Before I could rise to leave, he quietly asked "Are you going to tell Amy?" I didn't answer that question, either. Because I didn't have an answer for it. I went home, and changed into my housecleaning uniform, short shorts and halter, then vented my aggravation by taking it out on the house. My mind was working non-stop as I went through the mindless labor. I couldn't help but think on the questions Rick had asked, and on the questions he would have asked had I answered the earlier ones. He was doing his psychologist thing on me, and I wasn't even in his office! But slowly I calmed down, and the answers to some of the questions emerged. Not enough, but some. First, I knew I had to tell Amy. Back when I thought it was a buddy thing, there was no reason to either hide or tell. Now that things were different, or my perception of things was different, it would be dishonest to withhold that information. I hoped it wouldn't hurt Amy to hear it. I don't even know what 'it' is. How do I get myself into these messes? Dinner was ready when Amy walked in the door. The white wine was chilled, and I was dressed casually, nice slacks and modest blouse, but barefoot. Amy sensed something was up, and changed quickly, in a style much like mine. Rather I should say my style was like hers, because that is where I learned it. We sipped wine while we ate, and I held off till we were settled in the family room. Amy had always been in sync enough with me to follow along, knowing when and how the talking would begin. No pressure. We both knew we would talk, and that we would be totally honest with each other. We were side by side on the sofa, and I pulled her against me, cuddling her softness against mine. Trying to ease the tension, she joked "That bad, is it?" I wasn't joking when I answered "Yeah." This was going to be hard. "Amy, I… um, don't know where to start." "Well, the beginning is always a good place." "Normally. But I think I will start at the end this time. Amy, um", I couldn't look at her. I mumbled "I kissed Paul today." She stayed silent for a minute, then tilted my head up so she could look in my eyes. After searching my eyes for a moment, she quietly asked "Do you love me?" My answer was instant, "Yes! Love is such a pale word for what I feel for you!" She seemed satisfied with what she saw in my eyes. Very quietly "Do you love Paul?" "I… think so. At least a little." She still watched my eyes. "Does this affect your decision between James and Jamie?" I tried to look down, but Amy wouldn't let me. She still gazed steadily into my eyes. "God, I don't know. I don't know!" the last coming as a sob. "Hush, honey. It's all right. We will be OK. We can work this out. Shhh." As tears started dripping from the eyes she still would not let me lower. "Tell me about it." I wanted so desperately to look away, but Amy held me firm. "When I tried on my costume yesterday, I though that my friend Paul would not go to the party, so he wouldn't see it. So I invited him over before we walked this morning, and surprised him, in the whole getup. He was so surprised. He just stood there with his mouth hanging open. It was so cute. I just got this sudden impulse, and pulled his head down into a kiss. It was over in an instant. I was so embarrassed, I ran to our room, changed for walking, and practically ran out of the house and around the park three times. We hardly said a word the whole way." I wound down then. The whole time, she read the truth of my words, and read my feelings, in my eyes. "What else?" How does she do that? I guess we know each other too well. I called her my soul mate once. How true that seems to be. Somehow, I must never lose this woman. "Um, last Friday, after my psychologist visit, I really wanted to see you, to have lunch with you, but I knew it wouldn't work. So I decided to have lunch with my buddy Paul. I drove to his office and asked him to lunch. We ate in a little diner near his work. Then I came home, and he went back to work." Still searching my eyes "Anything else?" Oh, man, she can be brutal at times! "I really, consciously, thought of Paul as just a buddy, a friend, at the time. I wonder now if I didn't know something different, and would just not admit it. And that morning, I took special care dressing. I thought at the time that it was to make a statement to Dr. Simmons, but now I wonder if I didn't do it with Paul in mind, at least a little." "Mmm, Hmm. You got it bad, sweety. Yes, siree, Bob!" She let go of my chin. She had pulled the truth from the bottom of my soul, so there was no more need to delve. "You're not mad?" I managed to whisper. "No, honey. Not mad, not even hurt. What is, is. And this was a lot my doing. Better to be mad at me than you." She reflected for a while. "I can't see where this is going. But I know one thing, you are the other half of my soul. I will not give you up! Not without one hell of a fight. But, I don't think this is about us breaking up. I don't know what this is yet. Maybe this is you under the influence of estrogen, exploring your female side. Maybe it is really love. I have never believed that there is one and only one person in this world for each of us to love. Maybe you have just been lucky enough to find two in your lifetime. But I know what we have, you and I, is more than love. It is a soul-deep connection. And loving someone else is not going to damage that, or make that go away. Somehow we will work through this, and come out stronger, more in love than we are today." Wednesday, October 28 Wednesday and Thursday alternately crawled and flew by. The party was rushing at me like an avalanche, unstoppable. I walked both mornings, but did not see Paul. When I buried myself in the housework, time passed quickly. When I ran out of things to do, time seemed to stop. Not much of note happened, other than me working myself into a frenzy. Friday, October 30 Friday finally arrived, after a sleepless night. D-Day minus 1. I was nervous about the party. I was nervous about Paul. I was nervous about Dr. Simmons. I was just plain nervous! I dressed for walking again, anxious to walk off some of my nervous tension. I wasn't expecting to see Paul today, after the last time, and his absence the last two days. But he was there waiting for me. My insides were all clenched painfully tight as he fell in beside me. He gave me an easy greeting, but his eyes were out of sync. We gradually worked back into our easy banter by the second lap, and the last time around was quite enjoyable. When I started to head off home, Paul stopped me. "Jamie, wait. I need to know where things stand between us. I am going crazy!" "Doesn't it bother you that I am really a man?" "No! You are a beautiful loving woman. Maybe you were a man, according to you, you were. Maybe you will be a man some day. But right now, all I see is all woman. And I am falling in love with that woman." I changed tacks, "I told Amy about kissing you, about everything." He wasn't prepared for that one, "What did she say?" "She said I was lucky because I might have found two true loves in my lifetime, if what I feel for you turns out to be true love." I don't think he knew how to respond to that. So he went a different direction. "And what do you say?" In a whisper "I think I may be falling in love with you, too." His face perked up noticeably "And what does Amy say about that?" "She won't give me up without a fight." "Oh?" "But as long as she doesn't lose me or my love, she doesn't seem to have a problem with me loving someone else." Paul looked like he had been hit by a half dozen 18 wheelers, one after the other. He was just about reeling with shock after shock. "What does that mean for us?" There were tears in my voice as I said "I don't know. I don't know if I will be woman or man next week. I don't know if I will love you when I am a man again, if I am a man again. I don't know if you can love me if I am a man. I don't know. I don't know!" With that, I turned and ran for home. Paul had made me late enough that I didn't have time to do much about getting ready for Dr. Simmons. Just wash the worst of the sweat and tears off, dash on a touch of lipstick, pull on something clean, and race out the door. I made it in time, but just. Rick noted my red swollen eyes immediately, but waited for me to bring it up. He started out with easy questions about what I had been doing with my time, was I ready for the party, how was Amy. If he just knew, not a one of those questions were easy right now. He finally got to how I was feeling today, and the dam burst. It all came pouring out, my confused feelings for Paul, which he already knew. My confession to Amy, and her probing for the deepest secrets. Her acceptance, my confusion. Paul's profession of budding love. My uncertainty about remaining a woman, and near certainty of losing Paul if I didn't. He asked if I could express my feelings on my gender now. "No." But I stopped to think about it a little more. "I can say this, though. I never wanted to be a woman, I was always happy to be male, even if I wasn't a macho guy. Being a woman has been easy, at least for the most part, and has had its rewards. But I still don't 'want' to be a woman, though if I had to stay this way, I think I could live a happy life, as long as I had Amy, and possibly Paul." That was rather a rambling answer, so I tried to think how to sum it up. "I guess I have two basic desires that are at odds: I would rather be a man, but I don't want to lose Paul. Of those, I think the first is stronger. But. If, for medical reasons, I could not return to James, I think I could still have a happy life, though I would bitterly miss being a father." Through his steepled hands "In spite of your denial of knowing how you feel, that seems like a fairly concise summary of it. Are you comfortable that that is your real feelings, at this point? Is it safe to base our forward progress on that description?" I tried to mentally review what I said, and finally answered "Yes." "OK. Tuesday is your first appointment after the party. That is where we said we would start rebuilding your life as you felt it should be. So it seems, based on the way you stated the goal, the first question that must be answered is 'medically, is it possible for you to function as a male?' Aside from your other two criteria, your path goes different directions depending on the answer to that question. Do you agree?" "Yes." "Then what I propose, post-party, is this. The medical fight is on the hormonal level, not cosmetics. It wouldn't make sense to start undoing the cosmetic changes if the result of the hormone problem results in you staying a woman. So, until the first medical question is answered, I suggest you stay physically as you are." I looked at him, but had no response. "If the medical result is that you can function as a male, then, unless your thinking changes before that time, we start to reconstruct your manhood, mentally (that's my job) and physically (that's Sandy's job). Does that sound right?" "I guess." "And if the medical result is opposite, then you/we still have to work out the future, though you seem to imply that in that case, you think the best course is to remain a woman." "I am not as sure of that. Maybe. At least there is time to explore that later. I am too stressed and confused right now." "OK, then. Until next Tuesday. And good luck at the party! See you there." "Oh yeah, doc, that reminds me. You're one of very few people in the medical group that know how much I look like Amy. We plan to have some fun with that at the party, so would appreciate it if you wouldn't give the game away?" He assured me it would be not be a problem. He also remembered that Sandy had called and asked me to stop by for a blood hormone test when I finished. I trooped over to Sandy's office. The nurse took me to a room, and drew the needed blood. We wouldn't have the results till sometime next week. I was only there 10 minutes, and only saw Sandy to wave at a distance. When I left, I was at loose ends for the afternoon. I wanted to see Amy, but that wasn't practical this time of day. I wanted to see Paul, but didn't feel right about it. So I decided that grocery shopping was long overdue, and it might as well get done now. Grocery shopping was a boring as ever. Someone, maybe one of our neighbors, saw me and greeted me as Amy. I made no attempt to correct the mistake. After all, that was why I looked this way, and carrying on the charade was good practice. Shopping did give me a chance to buy the ingredients for a simple but elegant meal for Amy tonight. I felt in need of some time with her, some reassurance. Amy enjoyed the meal, and we relaxed after. She talked about her day at work, I talked about Dr. Simmons, the blood test, shopping, preparing dinner. I didn't mention about Paul that morning, I didn't feel I had to as Amy knew I was sorting my thoughts about that yet. We retired early as tomorrow was the culmination of this challenge, and would be a tiring day. Amy became amorous after we had settled into bed, and though I might not have worked up the interest on my own, what with my suppressed libido, Amy's attentions sparked my hunger. While I was not able to enter her, we still enjoyed a long session of tender lovemaking that left us both satisfied in the end. By the time I drifted to sleep, I was feeling much of the reassurance I had been craving earlier. I knew I was well loved. Saturday, October 31 We arose fairly early Saturday. I felt remarkably relaxed, given the lengths we had gone to prepare for today. I spent some time in the shower trying to figure out why I wasn't more uptight. By this time, I was feeling comfortable enough as Amy's double that I was not stressing over that aspect. I had attended this same party the last couple years, and knew what to expect, so there was no concern there. I knew virtually everyone in Amy's medical group, some quite well, and many of their guests who would be attending. As for the challenge itself, all that was required of me now was to attend as a woman. So I decided it was reasonable for me not to flip out at this point. Of course, there was the hormone overdose and possible consequences, the issue of Paul, and the pending decision about returning to the male gender. But those were for the future, and I didn't want to stress over them now. I wanted to relax and enjoy this day, and the confusion Amy and I planned to sow this evening. Another reason for me to feel good about today was that I knew I had succeeded in the challenge. Even though events had overshadowed the original intent, I am still glad that today should resolve one source of pain for Amy. Assuming Sandy lives up to her bargain, and I have no reason the think she might not, the friction between she and I should be on its way to oblivion. I am glad, not only for Amy's sake, but I have liked Sandy all along, and just hadn't known how to get her to trust me. All of this passed through my mind as I washed, patted dry, powdered, and returned stark naked to our bedroom. Amy was there in bra and panties, looking extremely fine. I felt a little frustration that my normal physical response to such a sight was absent, and wondered if I would ever feel that particular response again. I shook off my doubts for later, and embraced my scantily clad wife against my nakedness, kissing her deeply, tenderly caressing every inch of skin I could reach. She melted to me, and explored my body as well. Things progressed from there, and we passed the next couple of hours in a sensual blur. Amy just seemed to know so well what to do to my body to make it sing, and during the times I was capable of thought, I tried my best to reciprocate, learning how to arouse her body as well. By the time we finished, and lay languorously on the bed for a while to recover, we were both in need of a shower, and were almost out of time. It was really good we had nothing pressing that morning. Amy used our shower, and I used the hall bath, fearing a shared shower at this point would make us miss our salon appointments. We dressed quickly and casually, ate a quick brunch, and hurried across town, arriving just before our 1:00 appointment time. We were both signed up for the works: shampoo and set on the hair, with touch up of the darker roots that had grown out on both of us, waxing any and everywhere there might be hair needing removal, dramatic evening makeup, and full manicure/pedicure including a deep red nail polish that matched our costumes. When we left we looked like twins, with my man-made (or Sandy-made) copy of Amy's fantastic body and face, our identical makeup and nail polish, and our identically colored golden blonde hair in braids coiled atop our head in preparation for the Jeannie costumes. Our clothing was the only flaw in the mirror images, as we had made no attempt to dress alike. It was too late for lunch, and there would be food at the party. But both of us were a little hungry after our activities so far, so we decided to grab a quick bite at the mall food court. We both had salads and diet cokes, then returned home for our final preparations. Getting ready was easy, as we really only needed to strip and don our costumes. Our makeup, hair, and nails were just as we needed them to fit the part. Amy pulled the costumes from the back of the closet, and began separating them into two piles on the bed while I stripped. Thanks to our earlier amorous activities, I was not yet wearing my gaff, so Amy helped me fasten it snugly in place. She stripped, and we posed in front of the mirror for a minute, marveling at the similarities of our reflections. Amy suddenly said "Oh!" and dragged me to the bathroom. She got out what she said were non-prescription colored contact lenses. After I managed to get them into my eyes, I saw Amy's face, green eyes and all looking back at me! We had no real lingerie to put on as the costume came with coordinated panty and bra, so all we needed were identical nude panty hose. This was followed by the rose silk panties, then the velvet girdle, with the diaphanous silk pantaloons attached. After that the rose silk bra, the red velvet bolero jacket, then we helped each other affix the velvet hats atop our heads. We stepped into our 5" red stilettos, and were done. We each collected the makeup and identification we would need into tiny red velvet pocketbooks we would carry, and we were ready to go. I glanced at the clock and saw it was almost 7:00 already. My how time flies! We had made arrangements to ride to the party with Sandy, who was to pick us up at 7:00. Just then, the doorbell rang. We looked at each other, almost like looking in the mirror, and walked to the door with Amy following behind me. I opened the door, saw it was Sandy, and said "Hi, Sandy. Come on in." "Hi Amy. I hope Jamie is almost ready, we should be leaving soon," as she walked in. "That is really a spectacular costume!" "Thanks," I said. About that time she got far enough in to see past me and froze in her tracks. "Well, well, well. This is quite something!" She studied us for a minute, then said "I really can't tell which is which. Which of you is Amy?" "I am!" we both answered, and broke out in a giggle. Sandy just looked bemusedly from one of us to the other. I said "You will just have to figure it out for yourself on the way." And Amy added "And we won't be giving you any clues!" With that, I walked out the door, and waited, keys in hand, as Amy, and finally Sandy followed. I locked up, and by the time I got to Sandy's car, Amy was already in the back seat, so I sat by Sandy. Sandy kind of smirked, and said "You really had me going there, but now I know!" Amy asked "Oh, and how is that?" Sandy glanced in here rear view mirror and said "Give it up, Jamie. You have your Amy act down really great, but Amy always sits up here with me." Amy got a downcast expression on her face, and said "Oh darn!" while I tried to keep from exploding in laughter. We chatted on the way, with Amy or I responding regardless of whether the answer should have come from Amy or Jamie. Sandy was looking confused again by the time we arrived. The party was being held at a local resort's convention facility. Amy's medical group is not that large, but the party had grown over the years to include prominent patients, as well as VIPs from the companies the group worked with. The convention facility was two main adjoining rooms with a sliding partition between them. If it was arranged like last year, there would be a bar and buffet at the far end of these two rooms. Our plan was to stay as far as possible from each other, to minimize the chance people would realize there were two near identical Jeannies tonight. The hope was that everyone would think we were the same person, and often wonder how we got from one end of the party to the other. There were also several small rooms adjacent with cushy furniture where conversations could be carried on in comfort. There were several more small rooms that were not being used for the party. The party started at 7:00, but things really got rolling around 8:00, and that is when we planned to arrive. Sandy pulled into a parking space, and Amy climbed out, while I restrained Sandy from leaving, saying "Let Jamie go in alone, then we will go in together in a few minutes", still not correcting Sandy's mistake in our identity. We waited 10 minutes, then strolled in together, chatting away, greeting any familiar faces we saw. Alice, one of the nurses working for another doctor in the group called out to me, saying "Didn't I just see you come in a minute ago?" "Um, yeah, just had to pop back out to wait for Sandy." "Oh, hi Sandy!" "Hi Alice. We got a few steps past Alice before we couldn't restrain our giggles any longer. I told Sandy that our plan was that she was to switch periodically between Jamie and I to further the confusion. Sandy liked that idea. We drifted through the crowd, aiming at the closer bar and buffet, since I knew Amy would have headed toward the far one. We finally got drinks, with me carefully remembering to order a white wine, like Amy would have, and in fact was sipping at the far end of the other room right now. We nibbled at the buffet, but I wasn't very hungry. After a while, I sent Sandy off to join "Jamie", and mingled some more. It was probably an hour before I started noticing some bewildered looks in my direction. I was talking with Rick when Dr. Stan Adams approached, and asked "Didn't I just see you with Sandy over by the other bar?" I calmly responded, "Oh, you might have, I have been trying to get around to see everyone!" He seemed satisfied with that, and drifted off. Rick leaned closer and whispered "So, Amy, Jamie was telling me about your plan. It seems to be working!" I giggled, and agreed, telling him he needed to touch base with both "Amys" tonight. To one side, where the main rooms joined, there was a small band playing. Selections included Halloween standbys like "Monster Mash" interspersed with dance tunes. I received several invitations to dance, and accepted many of them, being careful to keep my partner near "my" edge of the dance floor, to minimize twin spottings. I was amazed to see how many of the men, hit on "Amy" once they found that James was not attending tonight. While it surprised me, I was confident enough of my relationship with Amy that I was amused rather than offended. At midnight there was to be voting for the best costumes. People circulating all evening had been collecting names of those that others thought were in the running. At midnight, the 10 top vote getters would be called up on the stage where the band currently played, and the final winner would be selected by the volume of applause as each was introduced. There were many fine costumes tonight. Some people really went all out to do it right. So I was somewhat surprised when Amy's name was called to come to the stage. We had talked about this, and decided that if it should happen, we would both go up, as that would be a great way to reveal our dual disguise. I made my way from my end of the room, and as I got closer, saw Amy approaching from the other. As I neared the stage, murmuring began around me, as others obviously saw my twin coming as well. We reached the stairs together, and held each others hands as we climbed the stairs, our backs to the crowd. When we got to the place we should stand, we turned around together, and there was a gasp from the crowd, followed by a smattering of applause. The last two people were called and came to stand beside us, then it was time for the vote-by-applause. The MC started at the end of the line, and let each finalist introduce themselves. The audience would then applaud, and the volume was measured using a meter supplied by the band. Then the MC got to us, he looked a little confused, and held the microphone up to me first. Amy and I glanced at each other, then she leaned in and in unison, we introduced ourselves, using her name. There was laughter from the audience, followed by thunderous applause. The MC just shook his head, and moved on to the next finalist. The novelty factor apparently carried the day, as Amy and I were declared the winners. There was some grumbling from a couple of finalists, as there were some really great costumes there, probably way better than Amy or I individually. We never did tell anyone which of us was which. The party would start winding down around 1:00, and we knew everyone would be gone by 1:30, but we weren't ready to leave just yet. Amy climbed off the stage first, and headed toward my end of the room, and waved her hand behind her signaling me to go toward the other, so we separated again. I was greeted as Amy by many people, and asked about my double. I just smiled, and made some vague cryptic comments, never really answering their questions. I got to the bar, and had another glass of wine, must have been 8 or 9 by now, and on a basically empty stomach, I was feeling the effects. Before long, I saw Betty, the secretary to the group director, Dr. Albert, approaching. "Amy?" she asked hesitantly. I nodded, thinking to keep up the charade. But she continued, "Oh, good. Dr. Albert asked me to find you. Come this way, please." I wondered if I should correct her as I followed behind. She approached one of the small side rooms not in use for the party, ushered me inside, and closed the door as she left. I looked around the dimly lit room, and saw someone sitting at a conference table. He rose as I walked toward him, and he said "Amy, good, come over here. I'm glad Betty found you before you left. I have something important I need to discuss with you." I approached hesitantly, "Um, Dr. Albert, I'm not…" He interrupted, "No need to be all formal now, Amy. We're friends, aren't we?" I nodded meekly, wondering how to straighten things out, but he was continuing, after putting his arm around my shoulders and guiding me toward the back of the room. "As you may have heard, we have a vacancy in the governing board of the group. You have done such good work for us here, shown such dedication, that I have been considering asking you to step into that spot." I was surprised, and couldn't come up with anything to say. It didn't matter, he was continuing without waiting. "However, something bothersome has come to my attention recently. I had a very disturbing conversation with Dr. Fredricks a couple days ago. Seems he made some allegations about questionable conduct on your part, and threats by you against him. All very troublesome, and so out of character for you." I was gasping for breath by this point, "No wait, that's not true!" "Ah, Amy, I am so disappointed in you. How can you say it's not true when I haven't told you what he has accused you of? But don't worry, darlin, we can still work this out. See, Jerry is a little toad, I never did trust him. So, in spite of this, um, blemish on your fine record, we can reach an accommodation that will still let you sit on the governing board, and give me a very strong ally, too." I just gaped at him. What had I done to Amy? How could I fix this? I had to tell him I am not Amy, that it was me that did those things, but before I could think what to say, he said "Now, don't you try to deny it, Amy, you don't want to hurt my opinion of you any more, do you?" I dumbly shook my head, but he was going on anyway "Now, as I said, that Jerry is a twerp that I will be glad to be rid of, however, I think I need something from you to prove to me that you should have that seat on the board." I gasped, "What can I do?" He slowly reached to unzip his slacks, "Why, just what you did for Jerry, my dear." I backed away, shaking my head, but he continued, "Or I can blackball you in the medical profession, make sure you never work again in anything more reputable than a backwater clinic in Mexico!" I stared at him in shock. But he persisted "Now, what is it to be, Mexico?" pointing at the door, meaning to leave if that was my choice, "or the governing board?" and with a triumphant smile at my look of defeat, slid his slacks down to reveal his bulging boxers. I looked at that large lump with fascinated horror. He stepped forward, and guided me toward him, pressing me to my knees in front of him, and waited. I was frozen to the spot until I heard him impatiently clear his throat. I started, glanced up at his gloating eyes, then back down. I hesitantly reached to that menacing bulge, touching it lightly. He twitched under cover, and I flinched back, then forced myself to reach forward again, moving my fingers inside to discover a semi-hard, hot, throbbing organ within. I almost withdrew, but thought I couldn't do that to Amy. After all, this was nothing I hadn't done before. I steeled myself, and extracted his member, only to have it staring me in the eye. A drop oozed out to glisten at the tip, and after a furtive glance up, I leaned forward to pluck the drop away with my tongue. The light contact brought another twitch, and he stood up even stiffer. I leaned forward, and swirled my tongue around the helmet of his cock, repeating my actions with Jerry. Dr. Albert groaned slightly, and became even harder. I sucked the tip into my mouth, and suckled lightly, flicking the tip of my tongue across the sensitive glans. I moved forward, forcing his penis into my mouth until I had to stop. Pausing, I made a rumbling noise in my throat that sent vibrations down his shaft. I withdrew, letting him slip from my mouth, licked down the length of the underside, finding his ball sack, and swabbed that with my tongue. Coming back up to the tip, I once again captured him and lunged forward, easily passing my prior stopping point, and forcing his sizeable dick into my throat. I fought the gag reflex, and waited for it to pass with my nose pressed into his pubic hair. When I regained control, I set up a rhythm, sliding out, then back down to the root, gathering speed, only wanting this to be over. Suddenly he grabbed my head, and gently pushed it back, releasing his member. He then grabbed my shoulders, lifting me to my feet, and rotating us so we faced each other, and my back was to the table. "Drop that sexy costume and sit on the edge of the table!" he commanded. I nearly panicked, shaking my head vigorously. One thought overrode all others, I couldn't let him discover my secret! I managed to stammer "My period." He grimaced, then spun me around, forcing me forward over the table, until my boobs and face were pressed to the tabletop. I then felt hands at my hips fumbling for the top edge of the velvet girdle, pulling it down over my bottom to my knees. I almost screamed in terror, but he must have sensed it. I swatted my bottom, hard, and growled "Keep quiet if you know what is good for you!" With that, I felt a finger probing between my cheeks, eventually finding my back door. He pressed in, stretching the opening. "Relax, or it will hurt more!" I tried, I really tried, but I just couldn't do as he said. Then I felt something larger probing where his finger had been. Fortunately his dick was still wet from my mouth, so there was some lubricant. He pressed inward, and the pain increased slowly until, with a pop, the head slipped inside. He paused to gain his breath, or maybe he was being considerate, I don't know. The pain subsided gradually, but before I was ready (as if I would ever be ready for this) I felt him pushing forward again, then back, then forward in short strokes, working deeper with each. For me, the pain spiraled upward, leaving me panting in agony. When he was maybe halfway in, I heard the door opening at the far end of the room, to my right. I don't think Dr. Albert heard, as just then he lunged forward, burying himself to the hilt, and wrenching a scream from me. I was lost in a fog of pain, but saw the lights turn bright, and heard an indignant "What the hell is going on here!" followed by the slamming of the door. It was Amy! I was saved, was my first thought. Then, oh god, no, Amy is going to see this! She won't understand. She is going to hate me! And I passed out. ***** From what I pieced together later, it happened something like this. Amy repeated in an ominous growl "Dr. Marvin Albert, what the hell do you think you are doing to my husband!" Dr. Albert became aware of the lights, and the voice, and whipped his head around to face Amy. He recovered quickly, and nearly shouted "I don't know who the hell you are, bitch, but I want you out of here now! I have unfinished business with one of my doctors!" Amy was on him in an instant. The crack of her slap across his face sounded like the report of a rifle. "Get the hell away from my *husband*!" she shouted, as she pushed him to the side, dislodging him from my tortured anus. "Husband?" he gasped. "That's right, husband! Now, I want an explanation here, right now, or I am marching right out there and bringing back witnesses to show them just what kind of pervert we have directing our group." As she attacked him verbally, she gently eased my costume back up over my nakedness, and stroked me soothingly. He counter attacked as he rearranged his clothes, "After I get done telling about your recent behavior, you will be out on your ear, and no one will listen to a word you say!" She smiled at him evilly, "Not even when I show them what you were doing to a man?" He paled slightly. "And what is it you think you have on me? Oh, don't tell me! You've been talking to that bastard Jerry Fredricks, haven't you? Well save your breath, I have never done anything with him. Jerry got my husband here drunk, and then proceeded to force him into a degrading situation. Out of consideration for James' feelings I told Jerry I would keep quiet about it, but now that it's out, you have not a thing on me, and you and Jerry are both facing ruin!" When he didn't immediately respond, Amy continued "Maybe I should get Marcy in here?" Dr. Albert paled at the mention of his wife. Even with mistaken identity, this was not explainable to her. Amy whipped out her cell phone, dialed, waited. "Sandy, can you please find Marcy Albert and bring her to conference room three at the east end of the ballroom? Thanks, you're a sweetheart!" Dr. Albert gasped, and tried to stop her, but Amy calmly finished the call. He looked broken. "What is it you want?" Amy spat, "You. Dead!" He jerked back as if slapped with each word. Then Amy continued more calmly, "Scum like you can destroy the great thing we have in this medical group. If we are going to succeed, you need to go. So! What I want is your resignation, as well as Jerry's, before the governing board within a week. And I want your promise that none of this will ever be mentioned outside this room. If you do that, James and I won't talk about it either. I will let you keep your reputation, and maybe your wife. But I will not work with or for your ever again." Amy heard the door opening, and said one word "Decide!" He nodded his head in defeat. Amy quickly turned to the door to see Sandy and Marcy entering. "Oh, thank heavens you're here. Marcy, Jamie and I were talking with your husband here, when he started feeling poorly. Then Jamie passed out on the table, so I called Sandy for help. I think you had better get your hubby home to bed. And Sandy, can you help me with Jamie, please?" Sandy started to say something, but Amy desperately gestured her to keep quiet, and they went to Jamie as Marcy helped her husband from the room, making soothing noises as they went. When they were gone, Sandy hissed "What the hell is going on here!" When the door closed, Amy responded "That bastard was raping Jamie! He thought it was me, that he had some damaging evidence against me, and was blackmailing me into having sex with him. I can only guess that Jamie went along to try to protect me. Help me get him out of here!" ***** I came around as they tried to get me upright. There was a throbbing pain in my bottom, and I felt slightly woozie. Then it came back to me, what had been happening, and I started bawling, and begging Amy for forgiveness. She hushed me, and soothed me with loving words, until I calmed down enough that Sandy and Amy were able to guide me out of the room and toward the exit. We made a little stir as we navigated the ballroom toward the door with Amy deflecting concerned inquiries with vague non-answers. Sandy drove us home in silence. I think I was going into shock. The trip passed in a haze, as did the walk into the house. Sunday, November 1 Next I knew, I awoke in my own bed, naked, with Amy asleep beside me and Sandy sprawled across the easy chair near the bed. I had to pee bad, so I tried to get out of bed without waking anyone, and scampered into the bathroom. When I finished, I wrapped one of Amy's gauzy robes around me. It didn't hide much, but I felt better with it on. When I got into the bedroom, Sandy was looking at me intently, and Amy still slept. Sandy gestured toward the door to the hall, and I followed her to the kitchen. I sank wearily to a chair, and Sandy set about making coffee. She nodded her head toward my room and said "She wore herself out, staying up most of the night, making sure you were OK. She was so worried about you. She blamed herself, and she felt so guilty." I just stared at her dumbly, only soaking up about half of what she said. When I didn't respond, she continued "But we both know where the blame belongs, don't we?" I hung my head in shame, and mumbled "Yes." She quickly crouched in front of me and tilted my head up so she could look into my streaming eyes. "No, oh no, that is not what I meant. Don't even think that! God, no! This is all my fault. If I had just trusted Amy, and accepted you, this would never have happened. God! Boy, have I screwed everything up!" She sobbed, and sank back onto her butt on the floor. Soon she was crying as well, and it was my turn to kneel beside her, take her in my arms, and comfort her. At least it took my mind off my guilt. I reassured her it wasn't her fault. I held her, and we rocked back and forth, each buried in their own private hell of guilt, but trying to comfort the other. I don't know how long we shared our misery like that before I felt another pair of arms wrap around both of us, as from her own load of guilt, Amy tried to soothe us too. Finally we all stopped crying and just held each other. Sandy said, "Trick or treat! That sure was a hell of a trick I played on you, wasn't it?" I looked at her, and said "Maybe it was just a treat in disguise." Authors note: Hope you enjoyed. This was where the story was originally intended to end, however, there seems too much going on in Jamie's life to end it just yet. Look for Jamie's continuing adventures in "Trick or Treat 2 — Descent".
Following the events of "Trick or Treat?", Jamie must decide her future and see where his changes take her.
Trick or Treat 2 - Descent
By: Enigma
Edited by Joan W (Thanks, Joni!)
This story follows directly after the events related in "Trick or Treat?", and will be much better understood if that account is read before reading this.
Sunday, Nov. 1
My back was starting to hurt, and I had to pee. I was crouched on our kitchen floor, still clutching Sandy to me, mashing her against my ample breasts, rocking her, trying to project comfort into her chilled body. Behind me, Amy had her arms around both of us. Our tears had finally dried up, but I could tell that Sandy was still desolate, and I doubted Amy was doing much better. I knew I wasn't. And I wondered, not for the first time, and probably not for the last, how I had become the middle girl in this girl sandwich.
You see, two months ago, I was your average guy. Not a hunk, but not a wimp either. Good job, reasonably handsome, and happily married to the gorgeous girl hugging me from behind, Amy, the girl of my dreams. And we were happy, really happy together and very much in love. I truly felt Amy was the other half of my soul, and she felt the same about me. There was one main flaw in the perfect picture. Sandy, Amy's long-standing best friend, hated me. Oh, not me specifically, men in general. She thought we were all heartless bastards, good for nothing but hard labor and fucking (literally and/or figuratively). She had been hostile to me ever since I started dating Amy, long before we married. As much as Amy tried to convince her that many men, including me, aren't like she thought, Sandy was too bitter to believe.
Out of Sandy's prejudice and Amy's intense desire to achieve peaceful coexistence and hopefully friendship between her hubby and her best friend grew a complicated scheme that Sandy insisted was the only way I could overcome her enmity.
Basically, I had to become a woman. Well, not quite completely. I got to keep my male organs, but other than that, I was to become so nearly a woman that I could fool an entire gathering of people at an annual Halloween party. And if I could do that without masculine histrionics, she vowed to give friendship and trust a chance. To Sandy, I was figuratively giving up my manhood, temporarily, to prove my worthiness.
Halloween was yesterday, and I should be starting the return to manhood by now, but, as we should have guessed, there are complications. At the moment, as far as anyone could tell, I am Amy's double and live-in friend, or visiting twin, or whatever they assume. And it was looking like that could be permanent.
Complications? Nothing serious. Not! Just that I may have been given so much estrogen and anti-androgens that my male reproductive organs have shut down and may be damaged beyond repair. Just that I have been raped not once, but twice since becoming a woman. And just that I may be falling in love with another man. A kind, understanding man that first became my friend, then became something more.
And soon I must decide if I will stay Jamie, or try to return to James. If the latter is even possible.
Geez, if I keep this up, I'm gonna dissolve into tears again. Damn female hormones! I've cried more in the last two months than in the first 28 years of my life.
I gave Sandy one last squeeze, kissed Amy soundly, and struggled out of our tangle so I could hurry off to the bathroom. I did my thing, and as I washed up, noticed my red puffy eyes and streaked makeup in the mirror over the sink. Liberal use of makeup remover, and a good scrubbing with cold water, and the mirror image was somewhat improved.
I noticed the scale as I was finishing up. Absent-mindedly I stepped on. A week ago, I had been 123 pounds, a long way down from the 145 I had been when this all started back in August. This time I was down another four pounds, to 119. I had never been a heavyweight, but now I was what, six pounds or so less than the last weight I knew for Amy.
As I exited the bathroom, I saw my reflection in the full-length mirror. What I saw was a beautiful woman, even without makeup and with tousled golden blonde hair, dressed in a sheer robe that really didn't hide much. Even between my legs I looked female, thanks to the gaff/fake vagina that I wore.
This was the image of my wife. But this wasn't my wife, it was me. I was the one that succumbed twice to men in situations that could have ruined my wife's career. I was the one who, willing or not, had cheated on our marriage. I was the one who had professed to my avowed life mate that I was in love with another person. I was disgusted by what I saw in the mirror. I needed to hide.
I stripped off the robe and found the solvent that let me remove the gaff. Looking in the mirror again, I was relieved that I now showed at least some difference from Amy.
I searched my drawers and finally found some old sweats. They were bulky enough to obscure my curves. They hung loosely from my slimmed waist, but my broader hips and fanny kept them from falling off.
The image in the mirror now looked like Amy wearing sweats. But at least it hid some of these feminine curves.
I made my way to the kitchen, poured a cup of coffee, and slumped into one of the chairs. Moments later, I heard the front door close, and then Amy stood in the kitchen doorway. I looked up at her, so beautiful, so loving, so much what I wanted in life. And I hung my head in shame, no longer able to look at her.
Amy sobbed, "Oh, God, you must hate me!" and I heard her bare feet running to the bedroom, and the bedroom door slamming. Her anguish wrenched at my core, and despite my personal shame, I hurried after her, finding her sobbing on our bed. I crawled in beside her, pulling her to me, murmuring assurances to her, willing my love into her. I fought back my own tears that were threatening to spill, knowing that this woman in my arms was the most important thing in the world, and whatever I felt, I must preserve and protect her.
When she finally calmed, I whispered "Don't you dare blame yourself for what has happened! I went into this with my eyes open. I made all the choices. And I am the one that made a hash of it all!" A sob erupted from my throat. "I love you. I need you. I need you to be strong, not burdened with guilt! I cannot survive this without you!"
Amy drew back and looked at me. "You still love me?" I nodded. "Even after all that has happened to you, all that I have done to you?" There she was again, blaming herself, but I was fighting so hard to hold back my tears that all I could do was nod.
She sighed, and pulled me close again, burrowing her head against my neck. She started stroking my back soothingly. Then little kisses on my neck. We stayed that way for awhile, then her hands became a little bolder, roaming over the curves hidden under the baggy sweats, and eventually slipping under the top to stroke my skin directly. For a while, this was comforting, and I just floated in a numb haze, but as Amy got bolder, trying to arouse me, it didn't feel right. We had always had a wonderful relationship and a great sex life together. We often used sex to sooth each other, to draw the other from depression or sorrow as well as to share our joy. Now, for the first time, it revolted me.
"No!" I pulled away, and rolled so my back was toward her. "I'm sorry, I can't." Amy was silent for a while. Our connection was so close that I knew I had hurt her with my rejection, but I couldn't help it. After a time, I felt a gentle, tentative touch on my back, and involuntarily flinched.
"James, what is it?" she whispered.
"I'm sorry, Amy, I just can't do that kind of thing right now."
"Oh…" there was a pause. "Can I just hold you?" The pain in her voice tore at me, and I weakly nodded, then felt her slide against my back and wrap her arms around me. We cuddled for a long time, each wrapped in our own pain, unable to break through to the other. That scared me almost as much as my rejection of her touch, but I didn't know what to do about it. Could it be that this was driving a wedge between us? I hoped not, losing Amy would be the end of my world.
I finally dozed off. I roused slightly when I felt Amy slide out of bed, but was soon asleep again. When I woke, the light through the window was dimming, and Amy was shaking my shoulder.
"Here, love, I brought you some soup. You really need to eat something." She leaned down to kiss my cheek, then helped me shift around so I could sip the contents of the mug, and nibble on the cheese and crackers she set next to me.
I managed to say thanks before she left the room. As soon as I finished, I rolled over and fell into a troubled sleep.
Monday, Nov. 2
Of course, Amy had to work the next day. When I awoke, the bed was empty, and the house quiet. Glancing at the time, I saw she would have left a while ago. I dragged myself out of bed and into the bathroom. I didn't feel like eating, but decided a walk would help clear the cobwebs.
The weather was cooling off, finally, so I squirmed into one of Amy's long sleeved leotards, and pulled on a pair of her sweat pants. Looking in the mirror, I saw an attractive woman again. Not what I wanted right now, but there wasn't much I could do. I rebelled against the thought of reattaching the gaffe to complete the look, so the sweats would just have to mask that problem.
As I approached the bench where I often met Paul, I was torn about whether I wanted to see him today or not. I was really mixed up in my head right now. I was really glad I would be seeing Dr. Simmons tomorrow. Hopefully he would forego some of his psychobabble and give me some real advice for a change. I desperately needed it.
"Hi!" I was so deep in thought I hadn't seen Paul waiting for me, so I started at his greeting. I cringed inside. How was I supposed to handle this right now?
"Hi."
"You OK?" I looked up to see him peering intently at me.
"Yeah. Just a lot on my mind today. Sorry. Probably won't be very good company."
He fell in step with me and smiled a wry grin, "Oh, from my position, the company is fine." I just blushed and continued walking.
"So, how did the party go?" Damn, right to the sore spot!
"Um, Paul, please, I don’t want to talk about that right now. Like I said, I've got a lot of things to work out in my mind."
I could tell he was a little hurt, but all he said was "OK."
We walked the entire two circuits in silence, but before I could split off to head for home, he grabbed my arm to hold me steady, and gave me a peck on the cheek. "Jamie, I know you've got troubles. I just want you to know, if you need someone to talk to, or to help in any way, call me." I couldn't answer. I just pulled my arm away and ran for home.
When I got inside and locked up, I slumped back against the door, and slowly slid down to sit on the floor. I buried my face in my hands and sat there for I don't know how long.
Finally pulling myself together, at least a little, I got up and went to the kitchen to fix coffee. Holding a cup between my hands to ward off a chill that didn't come from the temperature outside, I wandered into my office to check e-mail. I found one from last week from my contract client. Darn, I couldn't afford to let this stuff slide!
Opening the e-mail, I found that they had approved the last phase of the project I was working for them, and had forwarded the scheduled payment to my bank. That cheered me up a bit. Of course, it had only passed the preliminary testing so far; there might be more work on that later before the final payment came. They also had included the specification for the next phase.
I tried to settle down and study the spec, to see what they expected of me in this next phase. I had worked through this with them before, and the schedule was based in part on my input, so I didn't expect any problems. But they had ironed out a lot of the detail, and I had to understand the specific goals before I could produce work of the quality I expected, never mind their expectations.
It was no use, though. Every few minutes I would find myself distracted by one thing or another. Finally, I decided I wouldn't make progress with my contract task until I had a little peace in my own mind.
The biggest problem was coming to grips with what I considered to be my rape. I'm not sure that legally it was, but I wasn't interested in legal technicalities at the moment. I also did not have the first clue how to deal with it. Hopefully Dr. Simmons could begin helping me tomorrow. I knew I felt violated. I felt dirty. I felt ashamed. I also wondered to what extent I had invited it. Was it my fault? Oh, I knew Dr. Albert was a scumbag, but maybe it was I. I was getting too depressed thinking about that one, so I decided to leave it for the expert tomorrow.
So, what's next? Ah yes, the minor issue of gender, and whether I would ever be any kind of a man again. Right at the moment, my prospects looked kind of bleak. I got the feeling that Sandy figured the damage was too severe to recover, but that she hadn't given up all hope yet. So what do I do about it?
I turned back to my computer and started searching for transgender information on the web, figuring that if I couldn't go back then I fit somewhere in this category. Let me tell you, there is a lot on the net. I was amazed. I read a lot, some believable, some not. But choosing what I accepted with some care, I started to develop a better picture of what was happening to me. Eventually, I followed some links that led me to resources local to my area, including support groups, TG-friendly stores, bars, counselors (Rick Simmons was on the list), and medical services. I saved this link so I could come back later, and began reading the information available about each. I wondered how best to learn more about the local TG scene. I wasn't ready to stand up in front of a support group and confess, "My name is Jamie, and I am a transsexual," or some such nonsense. I already had a psychologist to work with, and I'd had more than enough help from a doctor, thank-you very much. I wasn't interested in buying clothes. I had too many already, and hadn't needed to shop in special tg-friendly stores up to now. Then I got to the bars. I'm not a big one for the bar scene, but maybe I could find someplace to make some casual acquaintances that are TS, maybe find someone to talk to, some first-hand experience. Some help knowing what to expect.
Scanning the list of social clubs, I read the brief description of each, which normally included the kind of clientele they attract. Some were mostly gay and/or lesbian, some mainly attracted transvestites. Not many seemed oriented to the transgendered. As I scanned the list, one caught my eye. Mikaela's, a tg-friendly watering hole. Tv, tg, gay, lesbian, she-males welcome. I shuddered at the visceral reaction I had to that term. She-male. But technically that's what I am now. I looked at the address and realized it was not far from the Parkridge Mall that I had frequented so much these last two months.
Glancing at my watch I realized it was past noon, and I suddenly remembered I had an appointment with Sandy at one. Here I was still in my walking clothes. Oh, well, guess that means no lunch. I wasn't feeling much like eating anyway.
In the bathroom, I stripped, and gave myself a spit bath. No time for a real shower. I found panties and a bra, plainest I came across, added a baggy T-shirt, some jeans (nothing baggy about them, but they were looser than last time I wore them), slipped into my cross-trainers without socks, and headed out the door.
I made it on time to Sandy's office, but she was running late, so I had to sit for a while. My mind wandered, back to the episode with Jerry, about how I lost control and gave him a blowjob. At the time, he thought I was Amy, and I sure had looked the part. I cringed at what that might have done to Amy's career. But Amy took care of it. Then the Halloween party, and how Dr. Albert blackmailed me into oral, then anal, sex, believing that I was Amy. Twice now, I could have destroyed her career, and twice she had salvaged the situation. I felt like a slut, and it disgusted me. I had to do something to make sure that I didn't put Amy in that position any more. I had to stop looking like her. I had to make sure no one mistook me for her again, since I apparently couldn't keep myself out of compromising situations. I figured I was too weak to keep a vow to never let it happen again, so instead I vowed that if it did (more likely, when it did), there would be no confusing me with Amy.
Besides, if I was going to be stuck like this, it wouldn't do to be my wife's double. I had to decide what my style was, and it shouldn't be a copy of Amy's. After all, a big part of my decision about completing a transition or going back to James would hinge on how comfortable I could be in a female persona. So it had to be MY female persona, not Amy's.
The nurse called my name, and led me back to Sandy's office. A few minutes later, Sandy strode in with a very professional air, which made me feel better. A quick greeting and it was down to brass tacks.
"Well, these tests don't show any significant change, not that I really expected anything startling so soon. Testosterone levels are up slightly, but that might just be normal fluctuation. These levels are still much lower than the average woman your age. Estrogen levels, on the other hand have come down, but are still above the normal range, even for a teenage girl at the peak of puberty. So, these results are about what I expected, but we need to keep better track now. In fact, I would like you to start seeing an endocrinologist, and start treating this the way we should have from the beginning. Dr. Myers is a member of our group, and is one of the top people in the field locally." She paused, and looked closely at my face for the first time, to gauge my reaction. "I've checked, and if you are free, Sol, um, Dr. Myers can see you next Wednesday, just over a week from now, at two. Also, he would like you to stop in to leave a blood sample this Friday." She looked nervously away, waiting for a response.
"Sure, Sandy, I can do that if this is what you think is best."
She took a deep breath, and switched subjects. "Look, James, I feel terribly guilty about what I have done to you. I know now how poorly I treated you, and I want so much to make up for it."
When she paused to take a breath I asserted quietly "It's Jamie for now."
That caused her to flinch a little, but she continued, "Sol is the best thing I can think to recommend right now. If anyone has a chance to salvage my mistake, he is the one."
"OK, Sandy. I trust you." She flinched again. "Before, you mentioned the possibility of testosterone therapy, could that help now?"
She paused to consider. "I think we had best leave that up to Sol. There is a risk associated with a testosterone supplement. The body seems to decrease production of the hormone when a supplement is administered. Right now, I would think we want to encourage your body to produce as much as it is willing to on its own. Later, if that proves inadequate…", she looked down with a guilty expression, "then it may be our best recourse. Again, those are decisions Sol can help you with better than I can."
"OK, Sandy. Thanks for being honest." I looked at her, but she couldn't meet my eyes. "Now, I have a favor to ask of you."
She looked up in surprise. "Um, sure, Jam…, uh, Jamie. Anything."
It was my turn to look away. I wasn't sure how she would take this. "I want you to help me look different. I need to stop looking like Amy. I want you to change my face."
She sat back and steepled her fingers, considering before she spoke. "I thought Rick advised you not to make changes before we determined if you could, um, you know…"
"He did, and generally I agree. I am not asking you to make my face the way it was, just tweak it enough so that people won't mistake me for Amy."
"Why?"
"First, if I am stuck this way, I don't want to do it as Amy's clone. I need a look of my own, and getting comfortable with that look will have a big bearing on any decision I make." Then I blushed and looked down before mumbling "And twice now, I've done things, reprehensible things, while people thought I was Amy. I can't take that chance again."
Sandy didn't answer quickly, finally saying, "OK, at least we can discuss it. I am not sure I agree with your reasoning, but I can understand your concern, and I owe you, big time." She paused again. "I'll send the nurse back in with the digital camera to take snaps of your face, and run them through my computer to see what I can do with the least trauma. Come back tomorrow at six PM and we'll talk about what I can do."
The nurse turned my face this way and that to get all the angles Sandy would need for analysis, then showed me out. It was after two o'clock, and I couldn't face going back to reading the spec at home. So I pulled out my cell phone and called Life Style, the salon that had done my hair several times, to see if my stylist, Ellie, could fit me in this afternoon. She was due to be off work at five, but was willing to see me then, if that would work. So I agreed, and headed off to the mall.
I still didn't feel like eating, but my tummy was complaining, so I stopped in the food court and bought a salad. I didn't eat much, but at least it filled the hollow a little and stopped the rumble.
I still had a couple hours to fill, so I wandered the mall, window shopping, trying to decide what kind of clothes would make me comfortable. I sure as hell didn't want to attract the kind of attention I had gotten from Jerry or Dr. Albert, but I also wasn't going to dress like an old maid. I wanted a casual look for everyday, since my work didn't require business attire most of the time, and thought that would be kind of the beginning point. Once I found the style for everyday, I figured I could move from there into the business attire, dressy stuff for going out, and whatever else I needed.
I considered, and discarded a lot of outfits as I wandered. Nothing seemed to say "Me". But then, I wasn't sure what "me" was these days. I was headed back toward Life Style when I saw an outfit that caught my eye. I stepped into the store to look closer. The pants were silk, in a hunter green, flowing loosely over the legs. It had a pale green sleeveless silk top with a crew neck, embroidered ivy leaves in hunter green cascading around the neck and tapering down the center. The last piece was a lightweight long sleeved sweater, green to match the pants. I still had a few minutes before five, so I grabbed one in my size and headed to the changing rooms.
It fitted well, and as I looked in the mirror, I liked what I saw. Not flashy, not slutty, but attractive. I couldn't remember Amy ever wearing something quite like this, so that was a plus as well. I quickly changed back to my T and jeans, paid for the outfit, and scurried off to the salon.
I called and left a message for Amy that I would be a little late tonight, so maybe she could pick up Chinese takeout or something for dinner?
I was shown back to Ellie's station after just a few minutes. It had only been a couple days since I was here, but with all that had happened, it seemed longer.
"So, what do you have in mind today? Oh, and by the way, how did the party go Saturday?"
I tried to suppress a grimace, but I don't know if Ellie saw it or not. "The hair looked just great with the costume, Ellie. Thanks so much for doing it up for me. Um, today, I want to go for something different. A different look, different color I think. A style that will let me keep most of the length, but will be easy to take care of. Any ideas?"
"Hmmm. Well, how drastic a change in color? Maybe back to your original? Or maybe a medium brown?"
"No, I don't think so. My natural color is too close to what it is now, and a medium brown would be too close to Amy's original color. What would you think of me as a redhead? Or maybe with black hair?"
Ellie considered. "I don't think your skin tone would look natural with red. It might be OK with black." She thumbed through a stylebook, and came up with a picture of a model with sleek straight hair, longer in back, and tapering forward to just skim the shoulders. "How about this? This is similar to a pageboy. I think you have enough length to do it. And it leaves you lots of options. It would work easily into a pony tail, or could be put up for a dressy occasion."
I tried to imagine what it would look like on me. "OK, let's do it." For the next while I was washed, dried, dyed, snipped, and combed. When she finished, I thought it looked a little like Cher, before she grew her hair really long. I liked it.
As I drove home, I wondered what Amy would think. It made me feel good. Not about myself, I still had issues about what I had done. But I felt good that I was protecting the woman I loved. But this was only the first step.
I was greeted by the smell of Chinese as I walked in the front door. I took my package to the bedroom, then made my way to the kitchen. Amy was setting things out for dinner. When she saw me, she said "Oh, wow!"
I turned my head from side to side. "You like?"
"Um, yeah? Why, though?"
"I decided part of any decision about the future would involve knowing if I could find a style that I could live with as a woman. And I felt, to be fair to you, that it had to be something different. It was fun, at least part of the time, looking like your twin, but it wasn't me. I have to find out if I can even be me as a woman."
We served the various dishes onto our plates and moved to the table before Amy spoke again. "Uh, so, does this mean you learned something from Sandy today?"
"No, not really. The tests were inconclusive. Improved, but not enough to be encouraging. She has me set up with Sol Myers next Wednesday. She wants an expert to handle this."
"Well, that's probably best." She took a couple bites. "So, what else are you planning to change? I mean, you know, besides your hair?"
"I bought a new outfit today, while I was waiting for my appointment. I'll show you after dinner." I didn't feel good about keeping my discussion with Sandy from her, but I didn't feel good about myself, or the things I had done that reflected poorly on Amy either.
After a few more bites, Amy spoke up. "I have some news from work! It seems that our beloved group director has quite surprisingly tendered his resignation. Everyone was shocked. Seems he intends to pursue other interests back east."
All I could do was grunt as my gut clenched. The rest of dinner passed pretty much in silence. I only ate a little. It tasted good; I just wasn't up to eating much.
After we put the leftovers away and cleaned up, Amy followed me into the bedroom, and I pulled off my outer clothes to model the new outfit for her. She was impressed, thought they looked good on me, with my new hair color.
As I took the new clothes off and hung them up, she came up behind me and slipped her arms around me. "Hey, I haven’t had a kiss yet today. You mad at me?" I noticed she was very careful to keep her hands to "safe" areas after last night. I was glad of that, but it made me sad that there was this barrier between us. I turned in her arms, and kissed her gently. She tried to put a little more passion into the kiss, but I pulled back and whispered, "No, please." She looked a little hurt. I leaned forward and gave her another very gentle kiss. "Can we just take it slow for awhile?"
Amy sighed, "OK."
I was exhausted, emotionally more than physically I think, so I just got ready for bed. Amy went off to the living room to read or something. I was asleep before she got into bed.
Tuesday, Nov. 3
I woke before Amy for a change. I kissed her gently on the cheek, and she sighed, but didn't wake. I used the bathroom, then went to fix breakfast. The coffee and toast were just ready when Amy came out. She gave me a desperate bear hug, and a quick but forceful kiss before breaking away to eat.
"I'm sorry, Amy. I just need some time to get through this."
"I know love. What hurts worst is that I don't know how to help you. I'm just glad you're seeing Rick today. I really, really hope he can help."
"Me too!"
I cleaned up while Amy finished getting ready, then gave her a light kiss that left us both unsatisfied.
I got into an exercise outfit similar to yesterdays, and headed out for a walk. I decided I needed to apologize to Paul for yesterday, but tell him until I got my head screwed on right that maybe I shouldn't see him. I was half disappointed and half relieved when he did not meet me today. I tried to push my pace a little, but was feeling pretty weak. I was winded by the time I got home. Then I realized I had hardly eaten since the party Saturday. Any thought of food just made me slightly ill.
I showered and slipped into shorts and a T-shirt. I was determined to make some progress on that spec today. I buried myself in work, surfacing after noon to eat an apple, then diving in again till three, when I had to get ready for my appointment with Dr. Simmons. I kept it casual again today. I was not particularly interested in looking like a pretty girl, but since I was modeled on Amy, there wasn't much way to avoid it.
Before I left, I called Amy and left a message I would be too late for dinner, due to some things I had to take care of, so she should eat without me.
I was ushered into Rick's office just a few minutes late, and settled into the overstuffed chair. Rick started things off.
"So, what do we need to discuss today?"
"Um. Uh. Weren't we supposed to talk about how to either become James or Jamie? Uh, depending on medical issues?"
"That's what we said last week. Is that what we should talk about though?"
"Have you been talking to Amy?" I was a little upset to think Amy had been discussing my problems with someone behind my back.
"Yes, she did call to say she was very concerned about you. She said there was a problem at the party Saturday, but didn't go into details."
I was feeling like a caged rat about then, but Rick's chair was between me and freedom. "Um, I'd rather not go into that right now." I couldn't figure out why I was avoiding the thing I most needed Rick's help with, till I realized it was embarrassing to admit the things I had done.
"Then that is exactly what we should work through today." Maybe they teach these guys something in school after all. "Take your time. Just let it out and we'll see how best to deal with it. Hiding it away is rarely the right way."
So, in fits and starts I managed to sketch a less than coherent tale of my shame. How I was summoned as Amy to an unused room where Dr. Albert was waiting. How he attempted to blackmail Amy. How I gave him what he wanted, submitting to first oral, then anal sex. How Amy interrupted, and my subsequently passing out, finally coming to after Dr. Albert left, and being helped home by Amy and Sandy. Because it was such a difficult tale to tell, my throat seemed to close up periodically, shutting off the sporadic flow of words for a time, so it took quite awhile to relate the story. Rick was mostly silent, but would ask occasional questions when I seemed to stall, or when what I said didn't make any sense. Fortunately there was a box of tissues and a wastebasket handy, because I must have used most of a box.
When my words finally dried up, and Rick had given me a reasonable silence in case I could think of anything to add, he spoke.
"Let me guess. You feel dirty. You feel like a tramp. You think this was all your fault. You feel you are now unworthy of Amy, or indeed, anyone decent. How am I doing?"
Each of his points struck me like a blow. Not because he was being cruel, but because he was baring my soul. Bringing my shameful secrets to light. I couldn't speak, only look at him through red puffy eyes.
So he continued, "Also, you know logically, in your mind, that none of that is true. But you believe those things in your heart, no matter what your mind says. No matter what I say. No matter what Amy says."
I could only sob and nod.
Rick leaned forward and clasped both my hands with his. "This is the great crime that is rape. It is not so much the violation of the body, but the rending of the spirit that makes rape such an ugly sin. It too often leaves the victim feeling they are to blame, when in fact that is almost always untrue. This is the struggle that takes place in nearly every rape recovery. The victim has to be convinced, they must come to accept, not just with the mind, but with the heart that they are not at fault."
My mind believed, had always believed, but my heart knew this not to be true. It knew there was some character flaw in me that led me to what I had done. And I knew I would do it again, and again, until I destroyed Amy, or at least her love for me. I knew the only way to save what was most precious to me was to get away. But I was too weak. I couldn't face life without Amy.
Rick spent much more than our hour trying to draw me into seeing it wasn't me at fault. He kept asking me questions that my mind could answer the way he wanted, but my heart knew that lies fell from my lips. Eventually he had to call an end to the appointment, but confirmed that I should be back here Friday. So I was finally able to escape.
Well, it was almost time to be at Sandy's office, so I drove there, and sat numbly in the car till time to see her.
Her office was quiet when I entered. It was easy to tell that this was after hours, but her nurse was still there, and led me back to her office. Sandy was already there, studying something on her computer screen. She looked up as I came in, noted my puffy red eyes, and gave a weak little smile. "You OK?"
"No. I just got away from Dr. Simmons, and I feel like shit, pardon the language."
"Oh, I see. Well, um, shall we get to the reason you're here?" She stood and moved around to the chair next to me, pulling her monitor and mouse around so we could both see the screen. It showed two pictures side by side. My old face and Amy's face. I stared at them, trying to discern what made them different.
"People recognize faces based on a multitude of features, which are sorted and catalogued by the brain to identify an individual. Some features make a face more masculine, or more feminine. Now, in your case, we modified certain elements of your original face…" She highlighted several points on my face using the mouse, "to make it resemble Amy's."
"OK, you explained that before."
"Yes, OK. So now, you want to look different than Amy, but until the final medical disposition, not the more major transition back to your old likeness. Just minimal changes to produce a face others will not identify as Amy."
"That's right."
"OK, I have worked with many women to 'correct' supposed flaws in their faces, so I have done something like this frequently. Because we want to minimize the trauma, we are looking for minimally invasive procedures to effect the change. Basically, what we have to work with are implants, and injectables such as collagen. We can remove implants we inserted before, or insert new ones. Both are more traumatic than we are looking for right now. Another option is to shift the implants we used earlier. For small relocations, this is relatively low impact. Finally, change the contours with collagen. I know this is pretty boring, but are you still with me?"
I nodded.
"OK. To get specific, what I would recommend is this." She replaced my original face with a new one. This one was of a pretty girl, but she didn't look like Amy. "To get this result…" Was she really trying to tell me she could rearrange my face to look like this? "We can shift this implant forward a bit to reshape the cheekbone, shift those in your chin like this, shift these just a little." All the time she was highlighting points on Amy's picture. "The collagen we injected to give you Amy's lips will not be absorbed completely for several more months, so we can't easily reduce your lips, but by careful injections we can reshape them here and here, making them only slightly fuller, but making the shape noticeably different."
"Wow, just those subtle changes can do this?" Sandy nodded. "What's the impact? Bruising? Pain? Scarring? Time to heal?"
"There will be some bruising, but much less than last time. It should fade quickly, to the point that you could hide it with makeup in three or four days. Some pain, but just consistent with the bruising, nothing that should require any pain meds. In less than a week, with only a little makeup, it should be hard for anyone to tell it was done."
"I'm sold. When can we do it?"
"I had kind of planned on right now, if you are agreeable. I asked my nurse to stay late to assist."
Two hours later, it was done, and my face felt like it had been worked over by a prizefighter. Sore here, puffy there. Sandy kept me there a while longer to make sure I was OK, then closed up shop and we went our separate ways.
Amy heard me come in, and hurried to meet me. She stopped dead when she saw the bandages on my face, and the bruises that were just starting to appear. "What happened? Are you OK?" She rushed to me, almost pushed me into a chair, and started examining the damage to my face.
I grabbed her questing hands. "I'm fine, Amy. I just came from Sandy's office." It took me an hour to explain what and why, and as I had expected, she was upset. I just held her while she gave me a piece of her mind. She finally subsided, having of course realized there was nothing to be done about it now. I was feeling the aftermath of the procedures, and was exhausted, so Amy helped me to bed and I soon fell into a troubled sleep.
Wednesday, Nov. 4
It took me awhile to wake enough to remember why I was so sore the next morning. Amy was already in the shower when I staggered into the bathroom to examine the damage. The bruises had bloomed beautifully overnight. I was going to be quite colorful for a few days. Oh well, nothing for it. I did my thing and vacated before Amy climbed out of the shower. I still could not face her in a situation that had often led to arousal in the past.
We ate breakfast with little conversation, then she kissed me carefully before heading off for the day. Since I was in no mood to be seen like this, I had the perfect excuse to concentrate on my contract work. I'm not sure how I was able to maintain concentration today when I had failed so miserably yesterday, but I was pleased that I managed to. Not only was I able to make inroads in the task at hand, but also I was not continually dwelling on my problems.
The rest of the week passed much the same. I made good headway. I drafted a response e-mail with a list of problems foreseen and requests for clarifications on the spec, and was able to sketch out the structure of the work to be done. I let myself be absorbed by the work, and was grateful for it. I worked late every night, and had only limited interaction with Amy.
The problem was my sleep time. As well as I avoided worrying about my problems during working hours, they seemed to take over my mind during the night. I had weird, half-remembered dreams. I relived both rape sequences in my mind over and over again. Most disturbing, the scenes evolved, until I was not only enjoying the sex, I was initiating it. Though only shadow memories in the morning, this seemed to reinforce my contempt for myself, my conviction that I was poison to Amy.
By Friday, my thoughts were so negative I could not bear to face Rick, so I just remained buried in work. I did take a break to run down to Dr. Myers office to get blood drawn though.
By Saturday night, I had a good high level plan for what I would do for this phase of the contract, but was stalled waiting for a response to the issues I had submitted. All I could do was wait. I was ready for a break by now, anyway. I had been pretty worn out when this work marathon started, and I was much more so now. That night I crawled into bed and whispered to a drowsing Amy that I had reached a stopping point.
Sunday, Nov. 8
I awoke to the glorious smells of coffee and bacon. I found Amy doing the domestic thing in the kitchen. I stood and watched her for a while before she knew I was there. God, I loved this woman. How was I going to live without her?
Despite the negative direction of my thoughts, breakfast tasted wonderful. I was only able to eat a small part of it though, because having eaten so lightly recently, I had room for very little.
Conversation started very easily, with both of us dropping naturally into the comfortable patterns we had enjoyed for years. But that dried up when the conversation shifted. Amy asked how my appointment with Dr. Simmons went, and was quite upset when I told her I missed it Friday. After I had withstood all the chastising I could handle, I escaped to the bedroom, then out for a walk, leaving her brooding at the kitchen table.
It felt good to walk again. I had missed it the past few mornings, but my face was such a collage of colors I couldn't make myself go out where I might be seen. Today, the bruises were faded to the point that the walk was more important than my appearance. The swelling was going down too, and when I got back from the walk I removed the small bandages, revealing my whole face for the first time since Sandy's office.
After showering, I was curious to see the new me. The bruises were a definite distraction, so I wrapped myself in a robe and set about making up my face to hide most of the remaining discoloration. This was the first time since the party that I used any makeup, so I was feeling a bit rusty. I took it slow, and tried to make sure I did it right. I was so focused on each bit of makeup that I ignored the overall effect until I finished. I sat back and was stunned by my reflection.
This was no longer Amy's face. While Amy is a beautiful woman, this face was model material. Maybe it was the sunken cheeks from my light diet recently, or maybe it was Sandy's artistry. Or both. I decided I had to show Amy. But I had to dress to complete the effect. I knew just what to wear. I put on a lacey red bra and panties. Then decided to go all out, and put the garter belt on too. I pulled stockings up my legs, then went to the closet and slipped into my form-fitting red dress. Silver hoop earrings, and a silver chain with a locket that nestled in my considerable cleavage. Black four-inch heels completed the outfit. I brushed my hair for a long time, till it shone, and lay sleekly in the style Ellie had crafted for me.
I looked in the full-length mirror and wondered who this stranger was. It was almost too much for me. The last time around, after the first change, it was strange, but my reflection showed the face of the woman I loved. That made it easier somehow. Now I had no point of reference.
I walked out of our room and found Amy reading in the family room. She looked up at the sound of my heels on the floor and did a classic double take. It took a minute before she spoke, "Is that you, Jamie?"
"I'm not sure," was the best I could respond. "I don't know who I am right now. This is much more of a shock than I expected."
Amy rose slowly and moved up to me, examining this new creature carefully. "You're gorgeous!" she breathed. "This is so amazing!"
"I know. I don't want to be gorgeous. Gorgeous gets me in trouble."
Amy looked at me seriously, holding both of my hands in hers so I wouldn't turn away. "Jamie, I want you to promise me you will call and make an appointment with Rick tomorrow. And I want you to keep it!"
"Amy, I don't know. I just don't feel like it's helping. And it's so hard to talk about…"
"JAMES!" I jumped at the vehemence in her voice. "I think you need to see Rick, or someone else, if you're not comfortable with him. Please, honey? I don't want to lose you."
The pleading in her voice was too much for me, and I nodded my acquiescence.
Amy proposed Sunday dinner out, since I was all dressed for it. I was reluctant, but she insisted it would help me rebuild my confidence to be seen like this. So while she quickly showered and dressed, I made myself a good strong gin and tonic. Just a little bottled courage, if you know what I mean.
Amy emerged wearing the black twin to my dress, which looked great with her golden blond hair. I could tell that she had worn the corset to get the best fit from the dress, and thought a bit smugly that I hadn't needed one.
We went to a quiet, stylish restaurant, down by the river. Amy was right, every male we saw, man or boy, eyed us up and down. I thought I got a bit more of the attention, but, to be fair, my dress was brighter so it stood out more.
She was also right about it rebuilding my confidence, but not in quite the way she planned. Much as I tried to suppress it, as I felt each pair of male eyes mentally undressing me, I fleetingly wondered how it would feel to be undressed by him. To be held in his arms. To make love to him. This was just the type of feelings I had been trying to avoid this past week. I didn't want to feel this way. I was afraid of what it would do to Amy, to us. But somewhere deep down in my core, it reinforced my new perception of myself as a sex object. I knew that, based on the things I had done, it was all I was good for. I wasn't good for Amy. I could only cause her more pain.
My emotions were on a roller coaster the whole time we were there. Euphoric with the sexual feelings the lustful looks aroused, followed by despair over my future, and the future of my marriage. I was a nervous wreck by the time we left. Amy mistook my distress for nervousness about all the attention I was receiving, when in fact it was just the opposite. I actually reveled in the attention, and was distressed by that reaction.
Amy wanted to stroll along the river. Even in November, at least this time of afternoon, the temperature in this southwestern city was comfortable as we were dressed. Again, we were the focus of every male eye, and my internal conflict grew. Something had to give sooner or later, and finally it did. I continued to revel in my sexual role, and my concerns started to fade. Again Amy misinterpreted when I seemed to calm down, thinking I was just beginning to accept the admiration.
At any rate, I was grateful when Amy consented to return to the car and go home. I was ready for this experience to be over, and not a little concerned at what might come of it.
Back home, we removed our fancy dresses and lingerie, cleaned off our makeup, and donned comfortable lounging pajamas. Amy curled up in an easy chair by my desk while I used the computer to do more research on transgender resources. I stayed at it well into the night; long after Amy gave up and went to bed. This time I read more about the Benjamin Standards of Care, RLE (or RLT), and sex reassignment surgery. What I read was eye opening, and did nothing to tip the scales toward becoming fully female. But I knew that was not the only consideration, and the decision would rest on other criteria as well. I shuddered at the description and pictures of the surgery.
Finally exhausted, I crawled into bed beside Amy as she slept.
Monday, Nov. 9
Monday I walked again, and based on how I felt yesterday toward the end of our outing, I put more effort into looking good. Paul was waiting for me at his usual bench. His eyes passed over me, and kept watching the path behind me as I approached.
"Hi, Paul."
"Jamie? Is that you? My God, what happened to you?" His shocked remark stung, and my lower lip trembled. I couldn't answer; I just took off down the walking path. Paul caught up quickly, "Jamie, I'm sorry. Wait, please. You just surprised me is all."
I was still silent.
"Jamie, please! You look really good; it's just that you caught me off guard. I didn't recognize you until I heard your voice. Come on, please, Jamie, talk to me!"
I slowed down and took a deep breath before looking up into his face. His forlorn expression was so cute I might have giggled if I wasn't still hurting. I wasn't ready to forgive and forget just yet, but he was making progress.
"Nice to see you too, Paul."
"Look, I said I was sorry. What do you want from me? Do you want me down on my knees? You want me to beg? Do you want to kick me while I'm down? Bring it on, sister!"
That was it, a giggle did escape. I tried to recover my stern hurting look, but it was too late. Paul had a guardedly optimistic look. "Can we talk about this?"
"What?"
"Oh, I don't know. Like maybe why I didn't recognize you when you walked right up to me?"
So we walked, and I talked, and with the questions Paul tossed in, we made the two circuits before I was finished explaining the whys and the wherefores. After the initial rocky start, the conversation settled down into the comfortable banter we enjoyed before the party, and it felt really good.
We went our separate ways. After cleaning up, I checked e-mail and found a response from work about my issues with the spec. They had worked out part of the problems, but the rest would have to wait a day or two. I spent the rest of the morning factoring the supplied information into my work plan, but finished that about one. I stretched, listening to my joints creak from too much time sitting at the desk.
Gathering my nerve, I picked up the phone and called Dr. Simmons office, and ended up with a new appointment for Wednesday morning.
After a salad for lunch I decided it was a good time to visit Mikaela's, since work was stalled. I put on my new pants outfit, applied my makeup carefully. This may be a TS/TV bar I was going to, but I still wanted to look like a real woman. Even in that environment I was scared of being 'read'.
I sat outside Mikaela's for a long time in my car, trying to work up my nerve. It seemed like a nice place. Had I not known its special clientele, it looked the kind of place James might have taken Amy. I screwed up my courage, got out of the car, and tried to make an unobtrusive entrance. Climbing onto a bar stool, I ordered a glass of white wine. While I sipped the wine, I casually looked over the place and the people. Nothing particularly odd stood out. I didn't see any clownish drag queens, or butch-looking lesbians. It was all so ordinary.
When the bartender came to ask about a refill, I queried, "This may be bad form, but I'm new here, so I'll just ask. Feel free to tell me if I've botched it. Can you tell me if there are any pre-op transsexuals here that might be willing to talk to me?"
"Depends."
"On what?"
"On why you want to talk to them."
"Um, I need to learn."
"For what?" came his almost hostile answer.
"For me." I said in a tiny voice.
He looked at me skeptically. "Really? You…?"
I nodded and blushed.
He broke out in a grin. "You had me fooled. And after all I've seen around this joint, that's pretty hard to do." He glanced around the bar, then piped up, "Erin!" and waved someone over. A very attractive young woman approached from one of the tables with a broad smile on her face.
"What can I do for you, Sam?" while at the same time looking me over.
"Not for me, for this young lady here. She's looking for some advice."
She climbed on the stool next to me, and studied me with a look of concentration. Finally she smiled, and held out her hand. "Hi, I'm Erin."
I shook with her, "Jamie."
"Well, how can I help you?"
I blushed again. "If it's not too personal, are you really pre-op?" She nodded. "Um, would you mind talking with me about it?"
"OK, but lets move someplace a little more private." She pointed toward a secluded booth near the back.
I took my wine to the booth while Erin stopped by the table she'd come from and said something to the people there. Then she joined me.
"OK, what do you want to know?"
"So much, I don’t know where to start. But first, I guess, how did you know?"
She grinned even wider. "I didn't for sure until just now, but I had a hunch. The place, the questions, the nerves, and women's intuition."
"Oh."
"But you are really very good. Most people would never guess. Even me, if we hadn't been here."
"Thanks." I tried to figure out where to start. "I never would have guessed you either. But then, I don't have any experience at this kind of thing at all. Um. How long have you been dressing?"
"Full time, something over two years now. Before that, whenever I could, since I was a kid. You?"
I seemed to be blushing about everything in here. "Only two months."
"No! That's amazing. No, that's impossible!"
"Unfortunately not. I am the walking proof that it is possible, under the right circumstances. Um. Can we get back to you please?"
"OK, but I expect the full story one of these days."
"Maybe, when you have a lot of time on your hands, but it will just bore you."
"I don't think there's a chance of that! Anyhow, ask away."
"You're pre-op?" She nodded. "Do you plan the surgery soon?"
She looked down. "I'm saving up for it. It won't be very soon."
"Oh, are you anxious?"
She brightened "Yes, very!"
"Aren't you frightened? I read about the surgery last night, and came away absolutely terrified of the thought."
"Yes, I'm a little scared, but the surgery doesn't frighten me as much as staying the way I am. This is something I need. Something I don't feel I can live without. For me, it's not an option." She looked at me closely. "If it scares you that much, maybe it's not right for you."
I considered, "Well, if the alternative is to stay like this, I think I would want the surgery. I really don't like the term she-male applied to me."
She came back "Well, then, don't think of yourself that way. And don't let others refer to you that way. I don't. For me, this is just a temporary stop on the way to being whole."
"Oh."
"Look, Jamie. We all come from different places. And for all of us, different things are important. Some want the full package. For some, being a really good transvestite is right. Maybe that's your way."
We talked for another hour. Erin was a great girl. And there was no way I could ever think of her as anything BUT a girl. Finally I ran out of questions, and thanked her for being so helpful. I had a lot to digest.
She suggested that I come back on a Friday or Saturday night, when there were more of the regulars, and live music for dancing.
My mind was racing over what I had heard as I drove home. When I pulled into the driveway, I couldn't even remember how I'd gotten there. I changed into some grungy clothes, and checked e-mail. Still nothing about the contract. So I pitched in and got some housework done. Just before I expected Amy home, I had everything ready and holding for dinner, so I decided to check e-mail once more.
Damn, can things get any worse? I know, I shouldn't tempt fate with thoughts like that. But the e-mail I found said the issues I had raised with the spec had pointed to flaws in the architecture of the entire project, including the part I had already completed and submitted to test. They were insisting on a face-to-face meeting in their office, and it was scheduled for early Wednesday. They were within their rights under the contract. It's just that it happens so seldom that there was no way to predict it. Now, just how in the world was I going to pull this off? They had never met or even heard of Jamie, they had only dealt with James.
If I didn't show for the meeting, they would probably claim breach of contract, and I might be facing legal action, as well as loss of the work and damage to future opportunities. Oh, I might have pled illness to get the meeting postponed, but there was no chance I could delay long enough to appear as James.
I could show up as James' new 'partner' Jamie, effectively lying to them, but they probably would insist that James get his ass in there. They undoubtedly would not deal with some woman they had never met. Besides, I might be open to legal action if I lied.
Or, I could bite the bullet, and face them as the remade James, now called Jamie. If that backfired, it could ruin my career, especially if I was ever able to become James again. But there didn't seem to be a better option.
Knowing that this could be trouble, I figured I'd better talk my options over with my lawyer, Ken Gorman. He wrote up and approved all my contracts, and he was pretty sharp. So I put in a call to Ken's direct line, figuring he was still at work even at this hour. Fortunately I was right. I told him I was calling on behalf of James Hastings (well, I was! And it was easier than explaining!), that there was a potential problem with the terms of the contract he had drafted, and it was something of an emergency. Was there any way James could see him tomorrow? Fortunately, he had some time set aside late morning for working on preparations for another case. He could see James then. That made me feel a little better. But it also meant I would have to "come out" to Ken.
Amy arrived home while I was on the phone, and pecked me on the cheek, overhearing part of the conversation in the process. By the time I finished, she had a concerned expression, and wanted to know what was going on. I told her I would explain over dinner.
I finished fixing dinner while Amy changed into something comfortable. Her 'something comfortable' could have really revved my motor before the hormones did their thing. They even might have after, had it not been for the new image I carried deep inside. The dirty little tramp that circumstances had shown me to be. I couldn't defile this wonderful woman with an intimate touch.
Needless to say, I was pretty down by the time we sat across from each other to eat. I had trouble meeting her eye, and even more getting the words out to explain my current predicament. I also told her about my appointment with Rick, also for Wednesday morning, but that it would have to be postponed now. I could see she was relieved that I'd made the appointment, even if I couldn't keep it. The conversation was rather somber, and petered out before we finished eating. Or should I say, before Amy finished eating. All I could do was move my food around my plate, choking down only a couple bites.
Amy offered to clean up after dinner. I really hadn't left much of a mess, so I snatched the opportunity to flee to my office. Several hours and many tg-related websites later, a visibly sad Amy poked her head in the door to say she was off to bed. When she was gone, I almost cried for not being able to comfort her, to tell her how much I loved her. It was very late when I crawled into bed, and Amy was already asleep.
Tuesday, Nov. 10
I slept through Amy rising and preparing for work. She roused me with a gentle shake, and a kiss on the cheek when she was leaving. I had stayed up too late, and only wanted to sleep, but I needed to walk. I made it to the bathroom and did my business. Stepping on the scale, I saw I was down to 116. I really should start eating better, but food just held no appeal for me recently.
I pulled on panties and a sports bra, some powder blue tights, red short shorts, and a powder blue sweatshirt. Then I added some multi-color striped leggings. It was finally getting chilly out there, at least in the mornings. Socks and walking shoes, and I was out the door. Then I realized I hadn't eaten anything. Oh well, I didn't feel like eating anyway.
Paul was there, his face showing some anxiety. He tried to get me to talk to him, but I was pretty down, and couldn't muster more than a word or two in answer. Most of the way we walked in silence, but when I was about to split off toward home, he stopped me, turned me toward him, and looked searchingly into my eyes.
"What is it, Jamie? You seem so down. You look so different. Where is the beautiful girl I was falling in love with?"
I jerked away and snarled, "That was Amy you were falling in love with. This is me! Maybe you ought to go after her if you don't like what you see!" And whirled away and ran home barely able to see through the mist of tears in my eyes.
Oh God, I was losing Paul too. But that was for the best wasn't it? I was anathema. I was a tramp. I did awful things, had sex with other men. It was better that Paul should stay away. It was better that I should stay away from Amy. They were both such good people. They deserved so much better than me. Then it occurred to me. Since I can’t be with either of them, maybe they should be with each other. Paul already loved Amy, since I was an imitation of her when we met. Yes! I loved them both. What better way for the two people I loved to get over me then by helping each other. Loving each other. Making love to each other. Having kids together. Growing old together. All the things I thought I would have with Amy. Each new thought wrenched my heart, but I knew I had to help them, no matter how much it hurt inside. If I couldn't be with them I would rather they were together than alone, or with someone I didn't know or love.
I stood under the hot pounding shower for a long time, trying to burn the hurt out of me. And gradually a touch of hope began to grow. Just a bit of light in the darkness. I could see some happiness coming out of this mess, happiness for them, so in spite of my anguish, maybe I could be happy that they were happy. Finally I was able to gather my wits enough to get out of the shower. I was revived sufficiently that I could face preparing for the meeting with Ken. I had to look good for this. I had to convince Ken that this was right for me. I had to lay the groundwork for getting on with my life.
I selected a business suit that I thought looked especially nice on Amy, a light gray that I thought went will with my raven hair. I chose the lingerie to be sexy, black, trying to bolster my feminine self-image that has been in tatters. Nude pantyhose and medium black heels. I spent a lot of time on the makeup. I wanted it just right. Gold jewelry to add a little contrast to the grays and blacks. I decided to redo my nail polish, choosing a deep red, not too bright, but adding some color. I looked at the final result, and nodded in approval of the total effect. I strode determinedly to the car and set off for Ken's office.
"Hello, I have a 10:30 appoint with Mr. Gorman," I told the pretty receptionist.
She lifted her phone and dialed an extension. "Mr. Gorman, your 10:30 is here… OK." Turning to me she said, "He's ready for you, third door on the left."
I walked down the hall, fighting the urge to turn and run. I tapped at his closed door, then opened it and walked in. Ken looked at me, and a surprised look came over his face. "Oh, excuse me. I was expecting someone else. Can I help you?"
"Ken, it's me, James."
Ken looked confused. "Pardon?"
"It's me, James Hastings." That didn't seem to help his confusion.
"I don't know what is going on here, but I don't appreciate this charade one bit. I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to leave now."
"Ken, please. It really is me, and I need your help. Just give me a chance to explain, OK?"
This was not going as well as I'd like. It took me more than half the time he could give me to convince him, and give a sanitized explanation of what had happened.
Finally we got around to why I was there. He still looked uncomfortable.
"I've got a problem." He snorted. "More than just this." I said, gesturing at my body. "There has been a hitch in my current contract project, and they are demanding a face to face meeting tomorrow. They know nothing of this. They were never supposed to know about this. I should have been James again by the next expected meeting, eight or ten weeks from now." I took a deep breath. "I have to show up for this meeting or risk defaulting on the contract. So I need to know what they can do if they take this badly. Am I protected?"
Now that he had something to divert his attention from my body, his expression of discomfort shifted to a look of concentration as he skimmed the copy of my contract he had waiting. Finally he said, "I think the way we have this contract written, and considering the current anti-discrimination laws, there isn't much they can do about it, at least legally. They can claim you weren't able to meet the specifications, but unless you are behind the stated schedule…" I shook my head, "that would be difficult to prove."
He leaned back, thinking. "Or they could invoke the escape clause. The one that lets them out of the contract for whatever reason they might have, in return for paying you a percentage of the remaining value."
I had forgotten that. That obviously wouldn't be good for me or my reputation, but it was better than some scenarios I could imagine.
"Except for forgetting the escape clause, that's pretty much what I thought. I just wanted to be sure."
Ken paused a moment. "You go by Jamie now, when you're like this?"
"Yes."
"Well, judging from your looks, this is a pretty serious thing for you. And whether you reverse the changes or not, you will continue to look like this for some time. I think you should file for a name change, to give yourself some legal standing looking as you do now."
That sent a chill down my spine. It sounded so final. But given my earlier thoughts about Amy and Paul, maybe it would be better anyway. "Is it hard to change back?"
"No, same basic procedure. It just might be harder to convince the judge that the change is necessary. Each change must be approved by a judge, with a valid reason supplied."
I had trouble getting the words out. "OK, can you handle that for me?"
He nodded and pulled a form up on his computer. "Current name, James Alexander Hastings, new name, Jamie… what do you want to use for a middle name?"
"I guess Alexander doesn't work, does it?" I joked. I ran over a bunch of possibilities in my head. I even said a few out loud, to see how they felt on my tongue. None of them seemed right, so finally in desperation I settled for shortening my current name. "Let's use Alexa."
"New name, Jamie Alexa Hastings. You are keeping Hastings, right?" I nodded vigorously. "Reason for change?" I looked blank. "Diagnosed gender dysphoria?"
"OK." It wasn't quite the truth, but not far off. Ken hit the print key, and soon handed me the form in duplicate for my signature.
"We should have this done sometime next week. I'll let you know. And you call me tomorrow if anything urgent comes out of that meeting." He glanced at his watch, and it was clear he was ready to end this session.
At least he was being professional about this, and doing his job. I just wish he had been a little more accepting. I sure hoped this wouldn't cause problems if or when I needed legal help again.
I went home and called Dr. Simmons' office to postpone my appointment. Not sure what was coming, I arranged for next week, Wednesday afternoon. Then I spent the rest of the day going over the project, what was already complete, and what I had started for the next phase. I wanted to be sure there was nothing they could work into an excuse to fire me. I was still at it when Amy came home. She made a quick dinner, then insisted that I come eat. I ate as much as I could before my anxiety got the best of me. I felt hardly able to function. Amy led me off to bed, gently removing my makeup, undressing me, slipping a nightie over my head, then guiding me to bed. She moved beside me and just held me, lending her strength silently. Trying to call me back from the abyss that seemed determined to swallow me. I reveled in the love I felt so undeserving of. I wanted to bask in it forever, but I knew that that was impossible.
Wednesday, Nov. 11
I woke early from a restless night. My nerves were stretched to the breaking point. Amy sensed how I was feeling, and she quietly smoothed my way getting ready.
I showered, shaving my legs and underarms. I wanted nothing to detract from the professional woman image I needed to project. When I got back to the room, Amy had laid out clothes for me. They looked just right, businesslike but feminine, attractive without being overtly sexy. She helped me select my jewelry, and made a few suggestions as I carefully applied makeup. She brushed my hair for me, long gentle strokes that soothed me, over and over until my hair was glossy, smooth, falling naturally into the shape Ellie had designed. She handed me a cup of coffee, and a piece of toast, knowing I couldn't stomach more than that, but she wouldn't let me leave till the toast was gone.
I was pretty much in a daze as I drove to their office. I was running scenarios through my mind, trying to anticipate everything. Before I knew it, I was in the parking lot, then had to force myself to get out of the car and head for the door. I clipped on the contractors badge they had issued me when I started months ago, glad now that there was no picture on it. I walked past the receptionist and headed off to the conference room. The door was open, and I could see a couple people inside. These were the people I knew from prior meetings, the only ones I was expecting here today, so I entered, closing the door behind me. They looked up at the noise, and I checked them out. As I expected, it was the project manager, and the lead engineer.
"Excuse me, can I help you? We have this room scheduled for a meeting now."
Summoning what little nerve I had left, I responded, "I know, and there is something we have to discuss before we get started. Sit down please."
The project manager was going to try to assume control and dispatch this crazy female that had invaded his territory. I couldn't let him.
"Please, sit down, and give me a few minutes to explain."
He didn't look happy, but he sat.
I leaned over the table, facing them, resting my hands on the tabletop. "This is a little hard to explain, but I am James Hastings, or as I am called now, Jamie Hastings. There have been a few complications during the past several months, and as a result, I find myself in the condition you see. I want to assure you this has had, and will have no negative impact on my work on this project."
The manager's face had been growing redder seemingly with each word I uttered. He finally blew. "What the hell is going on? Who the hell are you, and where the hell is James?"
His outburst just about blew me out of the room, and I did my best to keep my cool. "As I just explained, I am James, and as for what is going on, it is far too complicated to explain in the time we have. So, if we could just get on with this meeting, maybe we can work out the problems and get this project back on track."
"Now just a minute, darling. Do you really expect me to believe you are James Hastings? You must take me for some kind of fool!"
"I assure you, I am not trying to fool you. I am only here to do the job we agreed to in my contract. Please, can we proceed?"
The engineer, who had sat by with a bewildered look on his face, pulled some papers in front of him and opened his mouth to speak. He never got the chance.
"If you are James, then what are you, some kind of a fuckin sissy pervert? You make me sick."
"No, sir. To get us back on track so we can finish this meeting, I am a transgendered female, currently in transition. This is a medically diagnosed and treated condition. Please, let's do the job we need to do."
My calm rejoinder just seemed to stir the flames of his anger. He exploded again, "I want you out of here. I'm not working with some sicko freak that thinks he can be a woman. Get out of my sight, and I don’t ever want to see your fuckin face again!"
The engineer was looking decidedly nervous, and tried to calm him. "Um, sir, you can’t do that. He, um, er, she has a contract. If you fire him, er, her, we are in breach of contract, and liable for the penalties that were written into it."
"I don't give a god damn about the fuckin contract, or the fuckin penalties. I want this crazy bastard out of my sight, or I'm gonna make him regret the day he was born." I was getting really nervous, as he was advancing on me with clenched fists during this outburst.
The engineer quickly got between us, and said over his shoulder to me, "Maybe you should leave for the moment, and we can work this out another time." He turned back to his boss as I cautiously backed toward the door. "Um, sir, maybe we should use the buyout clause and cancel the contract legally."
"I'll be damned if this pervert gets one more dime out of this company. And I will personally make sure he never gets another contract from us, or from any company we work with!"
As I edged through the door and shut it, I heard the engineer begin, "Please, sir, calm down, she's gone now…"
I tried to gather a bit of dignity after that debacle as I made my way out of the building and breathed deeply the fresh air. It seemed so sparkling clean after the filth I had just encountered, in spite of the brown pall that tinged it. After I got into my car, all I could do was sit there shaking, resting my head against the steering wheel. Breathe in, breathe out, in, out, in, out. I had gained a whole lot of admiration for Erin, and all the other transsexuals who were living and thriving in the world. I never knew how tough it could be.
I needed a drink. I cruised down the street looking for a bar. That disastrous meeting hadn't taken long, and it was too early for bars to be open. So I stopped at a convenience store and got a big cup of coffee. Not that the caffeine would calm my nerves!
What now? Since I can't find a drink, what's next on my need list. A job! I was well and truly out of work now, losing out on the six or eight months of income that should have been mine.
Wait a minute. Maybe I wasn't out of work. Or wouldn't be shortly. A month ago, Paul's company had tried to recruit me for a contract. The work was a good fit for me, as they had explained it. And they had been desperate. If they hadn't found someone, they were to contact James, my 'partner' sometime this month. I was just desperate enough to go for it, so I headed off downtown to where I had visited Paul at his office.
I was really nervous as I rode the elevator to the fifth floor, where I had met with Paul, his boss, Mr. Johnson, and a team lead from the IT department named Steve. I wasn't up to facing Paul right now, so I asked directions from a secretary and went straight to Mr. Johnson's office. Knocking at the door, I stuck my head in and said "Mr. Johnson, do you have a minute?" Fortunately, there was no one in there with him.
"Can I help you?"
"It's me, Jamie. I've made a couple changes since I saw you last."
He rose from behind his desk and came to me. "Oh, I didn't recognize you at first. It's good to see you, Jamie. Have you reconsidered our offer?" Last time I was here, I had told him I had too much work to take his job. That had all changed this morning. He led me to a comfortable chair to one side of his office. "Coffee?"
"Yes, please. And yes, I'm here to talk about your offer."
He set my cup down. "Great! That's great. Let me call Steve in here and we can talk through some of the details."
His hand was lifting his phone as I said, "Wait. Please wait. I have something I need to tell you first. Just give me a couple minutes, OK?"
He set the phone down and came to sit in the other easy chair. "OK, shoot."
The thought crossed my mind that I hoped that wasn't what he would do when I told him. Shoot that is.
"Mr. Johnson. I have to clear up some issues before we can go anywhere with this. I have to get some truths out in the open, for my own peace of mind if nothing else. First, I need to tell you that I just lost my last contract. At this point, I don't know if they will use the escape clause and pay the specified balance, or if they will try to break the contract in court."
"Oh, that doesn't sound good. Can you tell me why?"
"That's the second thing I need to talk to you about." I took several sips of my coffee to calm my nerves. "I'm a transsexual. Are you familiar with that term?"
"Only vaguely. Isn't that like those guys on Jerry Springer that dress up like floozies and traipse around the stage? My god, that's not what you are, is it?"
"Wait. Slow down. No, I am not like those guys on Springer. A transsexual is a person with a medically diagnosed condition called gender dysphoria. Simply put, it is when the mind and the body are of different genders. In my case, my body was born male, and I have taken steps to correct that birth defect." I hated to lie, but the truth was too complicated and unbelievable.
"You're a guy. Are you sure?" I could see I wasn't getting through.
"No. I'm a girl. Unfortunately, I'm a girl that was born in a male body."
"Wow, I'd never have guessed." He thought a minute. "Does Paul know? I didn’t think he was gay, but I know he's stuck on you. Talks about you all the time! Are you gay? Oh, I'm sorry, that's none of my business!"
I sighed. "No, Mr. Johnson, Paul isn't gay, and neither am I. Paul thinks he loves the girl in me, and the girl in me loves Paul. And anyway, I wouldn't be gay, I'd be a lesbian."
"Oh, well, um… Does any of this interfere with you doing the job?"
Whew. I don't think I ever got it through to him, but it looks like maybe it won't affect the contract. "No sir, it won't interfere."
"Good. Let me call Steve in here."
Steve arrived a few minutes later. We talked over the technical aspects of the work needing to be done for the next hour. I pulled out a copy of my standard contract form which they would pass on to their lawyers. We closed the meeting with an agreement that they would pursue their end of getting the contract issued. Unfortunately, it was going to take awhile to get things sorted out. I left Ken's phone number so they could work out the legal details. If it came together, I could probably start in about a month.
I walked out with Mr. Johnson, and he guided me to Paul's office before I realized where we were going. He piped up "Hi, Paul. Look who I brought to see you!" then turned and walked away.
I stood uncertainly by his cubicle for a few moments while he stared with a bemused look on his face. Eventually he offered "Hi."
"Hi, Paul." Another awkward silence. "Can you walk me to the elevator?"
"OK." He got up and we moved down the row of cubicles to the foyer. I stopped in the corner of the hall where there was a little privacy.
"Are you mad at me?"
He smiled sadly. "No, I'm not mad. Just really confused."
"Why should you be any different?"
He chuckled, "No reason."
I looked up at him. "Paul, I need a favor."
"Anything, Jamie. What can I do?"
"It's a really big favor, but I'm not ready to ask yet. But I need you to promise. Promise that when I ask, you'll do this for me."
"Jamie, you're scaring me. What is it? What's going on?"
"Please Paul, I need you to promise!" I had trouble talking past the lump in my throat, and tears were welling in my eyes, but I fought them back.
"OK, Jamie. For you. I promise that if it is within my power, I will do it."
I stretched up and gave him a quick peck on the cheek and all but ran for the elevator. I just about hyperventilated on the ride down, hanging on to the grab bar to steady my lightheadedness. As I passed a restaurant on the way to the car, I realized it was lunchtime. I decided I was too keyed up to eat.
My first appointment with the endocrinologist was in just under an hour, so it wasn't worth driving home. I still needed that drink, and the bars were open by now. I don't frequent bars often, never having felt the urge to drink much, so I didn't have any favorites. As I headed toward Dr. Myers office, I found one that looked pretty nice. It was fairly crowded, but I found a stool at the bar just as someone vacated. The place had a lingerie show, probably trying to attract the professional lunch crowd. It seemed to be doing the job, as every table was full.
The bartender delivered my bloody Mary, and I swiveled around to see what the fuss was all about. I saw right off that they had some reasonably attractive ladies taking turns on a little stage, strutting out in some sexy filmy things that managed to stay on the right side of legal. They would walk across the stage, take a turn, and return, only to be replaced by the next model.
The man next to me at the bar leaned over and said, "You interested? Want to give that a whirl?" and pointed at the stage.
I blushed, "No, thanks, not my thing."
He studied my face, then looked me up and down. "You're really very pretty, you know."
I blushed even redder and mumbled, "Thanks."
"My name's Tim Wheeler." He handed me a business card. "I run this show, but mostly I do more serious stuff. This is just a chance for some of the girls that don't have the body or the talent that it takes to do real modeling. You definitely have the face and figure that could do well in this business." He reached out and grabbed my chin to turn my head from side to side, looking at it from various angles. His hand dropped away. "Yes, quite well. If you're ever interested in giving it a shot, call me." He handed me a business card, then got up and headed backstage before I had a chance to figure out how to put him off.
I finished the drink, even eating the celery stalk. I figured it was better than no lunch. I wormed my way through the crowd and back out into the bright autumn sunshine. It only took me a few minutes to get to the doctor's office, so I was pretty early for my appointment. I sat in the waiting room and read the months old magazines until I heard my name, and followed the nurse to a tastefully decorated office. Sitting in a comfortable chair in front of the desk, I waited several minutes before a short, round, balding man bustled in.
"Let's see, Ms. Hastings, right? Any relationship to Amy Hastings? Good doctor, that!"
"Yes." I didn't know how much he knew, but didn't feel like elaborating.
He settled into his chair behind the desk as he scanned my chart. "Hormone problems. Possible genital function impairment due to high levels. Hmmm. Male taking estrogens and androgen inhibitors. Right." He set the folder down and looked up at me. "Ok, so what is it you think I can do for you?"
"Um, I'm not sure doctor. I was referred here to see if there is a viable way to restore my male organs." Boy, it was hard talking about this stuff! "Um, another thing I would like to explore, as a contingency, is resuming female hormones, in order to finish what the earlier treatments started."
That set him off and running a mile a minute. "Not decided yet, hmm? Any leanings? If you go the male route, we have quite a few tests to run, and probably a long complicated recovery process, if it is even possible. Which is what the tests will tell us. Go female, things get much easier. Just get a baseline hormone reading, which is here in the results from last Friday, and start you on the appropriate dosage. Much easier."
"So what does the blood test say? Any sign that I might be able to recover?"
"It says you're an oversexed teenage girl. Minimal testosterone, plenty of estrogen." He flipped back in the chart. "Hmm. Slightly higher than last time on the male, down more on the female. Maybe progress, maybe normal variation. Have to wait and see, assuming that's the way you want to go."
I sagged back in the chair and sighed. "I just want it to be over. What's the plan if I go the other way, female?"
"Estrogen and spironolactone now, orchidectomy as soon as possible. Then there's no turning back. You make the decision, we'll start making progress."
"Any recommendations for the male path. Anything that can help the recovery?"
"Not much. We could try testosterone, but we shouldn't resort to that till later. If we have to do that, there's a good chance you'd have to keep receiving hormone treatments for the rest of your life."
"Oh. Seems kinda bleak, doesn't it? Look, I need to think about this. I can’t make that decision right now. I need to keep my options open for the moment."
"Right. Make an appointment for two weeks on your way out, and get in here four or five working days ahead to leave another sample." With that, he was out the door, on to his next patient.
When I got home, I went through my office and boxed up everything related to my now defunct contract. I archived all the project files on my computer to a DVD. Then I collapsed on the couch.
Late in the afternoon, the phone roused me from a fitful nap. It was Ken, and he told me the lawyers had contacted him, and my contract had officially been bought out via the escape clause. Well, it wasn't as much as I'd have earned doing the work, but it got me off the project six months or more early. I shuddered to think what this would do to my reputation, and therefore my earning potential. It's funny how life can smack you down just when things seem to be going great. If only I could rewind three months, knowing what I do now!
I still wasn't in the mood to eat, so it was tough to think about Amy's dinner. I ended up putting a salad together with some sautéed chicken strips to add to it when Amy got here.
The conversation over dinner wasn't very upbeat, as I brought Amy up to date on my cancelled contract, and on what I found out at the doctor. I did cheer her up a bit with the news about Paul's company.
I cleaned up from dinner, then hit the internet again. I was at the stage that I was just devouring any information on transgender issues. I read more about the SOC, about psychiatric criteria, about the real life test. I got stuck on the surgery stuff, what doctors were good, what different procedures there were. Most of it I had seen before, but there was a doctor in a neighboring state that had a procedure that was useful for RLT. It was a reversible procedure that shifted stuff around in the groin area and fastened things in place to give the general appearance of a vulva. No long-term information was available, and there was believed to be a limit on how long it could be maintained and still recover male function, but it was a pretty interesting idea.
Amy came in, ready for bed, and looked over my shoulder for a while. What I was looking at upset her, I could tell, but she didn't say anything. After awhile, she dragged me off to bed, then cuddled quietly till she drifted off to sleep. I could remember no time in our marriage when we had talked less than we had the last couple of weeks. My mind kept churning, and it was quite awhile before I slept. My mind just kept looking for a way out. How could I stop the torment I was causing Amy? I didn't like any of the answers I came up with.
Thursday, Nov. 12
The next couple days I kind of fell into a rut. A little breakfast with Amy, a walk, both days without seeing Paul, housework, computer fiddling, internet research, and all the time my mind kept on working. I knew my self-esteem was plunging. I just couldn't think how to stop it. I kept coming back to the things I had done. And every time around the track, my scorn for my behavior grew. In my mind I evolved from a victim with a guilty conscience to a tease that incited, to a tramp that loved the sex and degradation, to a whore. I was drinking more than I ever had, and pushing Amy further and further away. Except for the walks, I didn't get out of the house at all.
Saturday, Nov. 14
When Amy woke me, my head was throbbing, and I barely made it to the toilet before I lost what little there was in my stomach. I didn't think I drank that much last night, but then again I didn't remember much. Amy helped me into the shower, then came in with me and gently washed me, and shampooed my hair. It felt so good to be pampered, but it hurt too, because I knew I didn't deserve it. I had to stop being so selfish; stop taking from Amy, free her so she could have all she deserved. As long as I kept clinging to her, I was keeping her from happiness.
Amy treated me almost as a little child, leading me from the shower, drying me off, dusting my body with powder. She had noticed how emaciated my body was, and pushed me onto the scale.
"113! My God, Jamie, are you trying to kill yourself or ruin your health? What is that, over thirty pounds you've lost? We have to get you to a doctor!"
"I'm seeing three doctors, what more do you want!"
"I want you alive, and healthy, and with me forever!" She broke down in tears. "Oh, James, I feel like I've lost you." She grabbed my arms and punctuated each word with a shake of my whole body, "Can't. You. Understand? I. Love. You!" She fell against me bawling her eyes out. I didn't know what to do. I wanted to take her pain away, but I knew I was causing it, and as long as I was there I would keep causing it. I felt like total scum by now. I managed to get her to the bed, but could hardly even touch her let alone try to reassure her. I finally collapsed on the floor beside her bed and sobbed out my grief.
Amy was very quiet after that. Sometime during the day, I heard her on the phone, crying as she poured her heart out to someone. At one point I heard her say "I don’t think he loves me anymore." God, could she be any more wrong? But she would be better in the long run if she believed that.
I wandered through the rest of the weekend in a haze of despair. I'm not sure where the time went, but eventually Monday morning rolled around. That was relief and pain. Relief because Amy was gone, to work. Pain because Amy was not here.
Tuesday, Nov. 17
I got a wakeup call from the walking nightmare I had been living these past several days. I wasn't sure if it was good or bad, maybe both. I got a call just after lunch from Ken, my lawyer. The name change had come through. I felt the bottom drop out of my stomach. I was now legally Jamie Alexa. I cleaned myself up and put on some reasonable clothes for the first time in days, then headed down to his office to pick up the papers. As I drove, I thought maybe I should just give in to the bad girl inside me. Maybe I should give up trying to be James.
Armed with the paperwork, I drove to the DMV and stood in line to get a new license. The clerk glanced at the paperwork briefly, and didn't pay any attention to the old license I surrendered. A quick picture, and another wait. Eventually they called me up to the counter and I picked up the new license. Geez, did I really look that bad? Name? Yup, Jamie Alexa Hastings. I checked the weight too, 115. And the hair color, Black. Then I stopped dead, gender, Female! My head started to spin, and I barely made it to one of the uncomfortable waiting benches before I collapsed. I wondered if I should try to correct the mistake, but a glance at the line convinced me I didn't want the hassle right now.
Next stop was the bank for a new ATM card, to change the name and picture. They studied the name change paperwork really carefully. I understood their concern because I surely did not resemble James Alexander in the slightest. On a sudden impulse I opened another account. Thanks to the payoff on my old contract, plus the recent payment for the completed work, there was over a hundred grand in savings. I started to put $25,000 into the new account, then stopped and thought about some of the expenses I might have if I had surgery. I ended up putting 50 thousand in it. I had convinced myself I had to get away from Amy for her sake, so I wanted to be prepared. But I couldn't leave Amy broke, either.
I walked out of the bank with two new bank cards with my new name on them, and a safe separate account just in case.
I may have been killing off the part of my life that I loved, but right now I felt more alive than I had in a week or more.
Wednesday, Nov. 18
I got myself out to walk again for the first time this week. Some of the energy I found yesterday was still with me, and the walk did me good. I was disappointed not to see Paul today, it had been a long time, and I missed him.
I got home and showered and wandered to the kitchen in just a light robe and panties. That was when the bottom fell out of my world. I found a message on the answering machine from SammaTech, Paul's company. They would not be requiring my services.
At that point, something snapped within me. What was left of my old male self went into hiding, maybe never to return. What remained was the tramp, the slut, the sex object I had come to understand I was since my rape.
I took a couple of suitcases to the bedroom and began methodically packing. My mind was in shock, but what had to be done was perfectly clear. I chose carefully, only the clothes that matched my new self-image. The daring, the sexy, the sluttish, towering heels, the most erotic lingerie, the tightest tops and jeans. I dressed in a miniskirt and skimpy tube top, and packed the rest. Then came the makeup, hair care items, shower stuff, the green costume contacts Amy had gotten me for Halloween. I scanned the room for anything I had forgotten. I avoided keepsakes. I wanted as little connection as possible to the life that was ending. Then my eye fell on a picture of Amy and the old me, taken on a carefree day at the park. I almost cried at the love shining out of those two faces, and mourned the loss. That one I took.
I loaded the suitcases and my laptop computer in the car and came back into the house. I searched my purse and left the new bank card for our joint account and most of the credit cards. I would return the others when I had arranged replacements. I almost left the house key, but just couldn't make myself do it.
Then I set about the hardest task I had ever undertaken, I wrote a note to Amy. Before I got my explanations and goodbyes down, the paper was stained with many tears. The writing was shaky from the sobs as I wrote. I tried to convey my love for her, and my wish that she find happiness. And then I sat there and bawled.
When I pulled myself back together, there was only one thing left. Fortunately, Paul answered his work number on the second ring.
"It's time, Paul."
"Jamie! I am so sorry about the contract. I tried. I really thought this thing would work out. I …"
"Paul! That doesn't matter now. Remember your promise. It's time for that favor." I was just maintaining control as I spoke, and my voice was sounding almost mechanical. "I need you to do something for me. Amy is going to need you in about an hour and a half."
"Wha…" but I cut him off.
"Be here for her, Paul. Take care of her. She'll need your help. Love her like you thought you loved me." I tried to strangle off a sob. "Make her happy, Paul! Remember your promise! Love her for me. Give her the children we wanted together." I barely got the receiver down before I lost control and started blubbering to nothing, no one. "Please Paul. Please."
Anyone watching would have thought I was drunk as I wove my way to the car, out the door of my home for maybe the last time. But I wasn't drunk. Not yet anyway.
I drove all the way across town and found an inexpensive motel that I could rent by the week. I checked in and moved my luggage into the room, then sat on the bed in a stupor for a while. Finally I shook myself, and went to look at myself in the mirror. I smoothed the skirt and adjusted the top, then dug my makeup bag out and arranged the cosmetics on the counter.
I cleaned off the old makeup. It was smudged and had run down my cheeks. Besides, it was from my old life. I carefully started applying a new coat of cosmetics. I used more vivid colors, went for a more dramatic look than I'd used before. When I stood back and looked at the finished product, I nodded in approval. Not bad, I thought. Time to go get drunk!
I was careful about selecting a bar. I didn't want anything too upscale, but I wanted it to be at least reasonably safe. I found one that I thought would work to drown my guilt and sorrow. Being a Wednesday, it was pretty quiet, but not deserted. I slid into a booth in back that was fairly private, and ordered a gin and tonic. When it was delivered, I ordered a second. I slowed down after the first couple of gulps burned their way down my throat. I didn't want to pass out too soon. I sipped my drink and tried to take stock of my life. Well, that was easy. I had nothing. Nothing except this sexy body that wasn't really mine. No work, no home, no friends, nothing but the raunchy impulses that had led to my downfall.
My second drink came, and I handed the empty to the waitress and ordered a third. She looked at me kind of funny before she left.
A minute later, a pretty good-looking guy slid into the booth across from me. "You look like you could use a friend. Or at least a drinking buddy. Can I apply for the job?" He had a crooked little grin on his face. He didn't feel threatening.
"I wouldn't be very good company, I'm afraid. And after another couple of these, I'll be even worse."
He chuckled. "I think I can handle it. Besides, if you put away another couple of those, you'll need someone to drive you home." My heart lurched at that word. Home. What I didn't have any more.
He must have picked up on it somehow. "Want to talk about it? I'm a pretty good listener. By the way, my name's Jim."
"Name's Jamie," but I sidestepped his question. "What can I get you to drink? If you're going to be my knight in shining armor, the least I can do is buy you a drink."
The waitress delivered my third, and Jim asked for a beer. Jim tried to draw me out, then when he could get little more than grunts in answer, he switched to talking about himself, throwing in a question for me now and again.
When I was finishing my fourth gin and tonic, I was feeling better, and loosening up a little. "Listen, Jim, you got any plans for the rest of the evening?" Jim had switched to tonic water after that first beer.
"Nope, just chauffeuring milady wheresoever she needs to be," he replied gallantly.
"Well, how about we get out of this quiet place and find something a little livelier?"
He rubbed his chin. "Well, there's a place down the street, but it might not be what you're looking for. They have strippers there."
"Sounds interesting. Besides, I used to enjoy strip joints now and then." I could see the surprise in his eyes. Of course, he didn't know I used to be a man.
I dropped enough money on the table for the drinks and a tip, and Jim steadied me as I staggered out the door. A few minutes in the fresh air, and I was feeling more able to stay upright. "Your car or mine?" he asked.
"Yours, please, if that's ok with you."
"Fine with me."
It was a quick drive to the next place, and I was happy to see it looked pretty respectable. I looked up at the sign as we walked to the door. "Lariat Club" was all it said. Inside, it was more crowded than I expected, then I saw why. They had a big banner for a wet T-shirt contest, so apparently a lot of guys brought their girlfriends, and even more came to watch.
We found a table, and got another drink for me, and a tonic water for Jim.
"So, you gonna try it?" Jim joked, nodding toward the banner.
"Naw." But then I stopped and thought, why not. This was the newly discovered me, the tramp, the sexy bitch. Why not go for it. "Hell, yeah, I think I will." Jim looked surprised.
A few minutes later there was an announcement for the contestants to meet backstage. I left my purse with Jim and followed the line of mostly younger girls to the back. We all changed into tight shorts, even tighter T-shirts. Mine was stretched so much over my double D boobs I didn't really need it wet to show everything. I was starting to get nervous now. They lined us up in an order that only made sense to them, then led us onstage to a thunderous round of applause.
They announced that the winner tonight, based on audience approval would win $50, and the top three would be offered $100 each to come back tomorrow and perform a strip routine.
I started out petrified, but watching the other girls I started getting into the spirit, and ended up having a great time thrusting my chest out for the reaction of the crowd. It was quite intoxicating, not to mention wet, and cold.
I didn't win the prize money, but I did place third, so as I filed backstage to dry off, two other girls and myself were ushered aside to have the offer explained in more detail. One girl backed out, but the other seemed really eager to do it. Still riding the high from the contest, and being a bit soused, I readily agreed to give it a go.
When I got back to the front, I was relieved to see Jim still waiting for me at the table.
His first words were "It must have been rigged. You were the obvious winner!"
I giggled. "You're just prejudiced." I looked at him sidelong, "By the way, got any plans tomorrow night?"
"Maybe, unless I get a better offer. Whatcha got in mind?"
"Well… I did get third place, so I get to come back tomorrow and dance in the show. Wanna watch?"
"Hmmm. Balance checkbook. See Jamie naked. Tough choice. But, since you might need a ride afterward, I guess I'll sacrifice the checkbook thing and suffer through."
I swatted his arm. I was actually having fun. And my grinning face showed it. It had been awhile. That line of thought brought a flash of pain, but I quickly concentrated on the here and now, and pushed my past troubles away.
We ordered another round of drinks (OK, a drink and a water), and sat back to watch the strippers perform. I studied them, how they moved, what they wore, wondering if I could really get out there and do that. We talked in the lulls between acts, and whistled and clapped for the strippers, having a high old time. I lost count of the drinks, but by the time we left I was feeling no pain.
In the car, Jim asked me where he could take me, but I mumbled, "Don't remember," and promptly fell asleep. I vaguely remember being carried to an upstairs apartment, then gently placed on a bed and having a blanket spread over me. My next foggy memory is getting up to pee, then stripping out of everything but my panties, crawling into a different bed, and snuggling against a sleeping Jim.
*****
Amy entered the quiet house, wondering why James' car wasn't there. She changed into comfortable clothes before heading to the kitchen to scrounge a bite. There was a soggy notepad on the counter, and she looked at it curiously, then with a growing dread as she read the tear-soaked words. Somehow it just wouldn't penetrate. James was gone! How could that be possible? James and Amy were life mates, two halves of the same soul; one could not live without the other. How could he be gone? It just didn't make any sense!
She sat numbly at the counter for a minute, an hour, a century. Time had no meaning. Then the doorbell rang. Her first thought was "He's back. It wasn't really true." She flew to the door and threw it open, only to realize it wasn't James, it was Paul. She froze for a moment, then started blubbering, "He's gone. Oh God, Paul, he's gone. Where is he, Paul? You've got to help me!" and on and on.
Paul stepped forward and hugged the sobbing woman to him. This looked like Jamie, felt like Jamie, sounded like Jamie, but he knew it wasn't. Still, he held her, and whispered comforting words, falling into the same pattern as when he'd comforted Jamie after she'd been date raped. When Amy quieted a little, he picked up the double of the woman he loved, and carried her to the same bed, tucked her in, and climbed on top of the covers, cuddling her chastely, just as he had done with Jamie.
Tears flowed down Amy's cheeks to soak into Paul's shirt and the pillow. Gradually the flow slowed, then stopped, and Amy's breathing grew regular as she slipped into oblivion. Paul continued to hold her until he, too, slept.
Thursday, Nov. 19
Paul woke first next morning, with Amy snuggled against him, her arms wrapped around his neck, her face nestled between his shoulder and his cheek. As he emerged from sleep, his first thought was that it was Jamie he was holding, but then his memory of last night started to return. He pulled back carefully, somehow disentangling himself without waking her. Leaning on his elbow, he gazed at the woman who looked so much like Jamie. His heart ached for his loss, and for hers. The Jamie he knew had been gone since Halloween. Something had changed that weekend, but he couldn't get it out of her. She would hardly talk to him anymore. He wondered if she had been that way with Amy.
He mused that Amy's loss was potentially so much greater than his. She had fully expected to spend the rest of her life with her James. And now that person was gone, and may never be back. That was a blow she might not recover from. He reached out and lightly brushed hair from Amy's face, and wished it was Jamie.
Slipping from the bed, he used the hall bathroom, then scrounged in the kitchen to first make coffee, then pancakes for Amy's breakfast. He heard the shower running, then shut off, and had fresh hot pancakes ready on the table for her when a dull-eyed Amy emerged wearing a terrycloth robe and slippers.
While his pancakes were frying, he called Amy's office, getting her nurse.
"Hello. This is a friend of Amy's. She has a personal emergency she needs to deal with today, and won't make it in to the office. Can you please take care of canceling appointments for today and tomorrow, or finding other doctors to take them?" He listened a moment.
"No, I can't explain the emergency right now. I'll let Amy tell you what she can next week." Another pause to listen.
"Thank you very much. Bye."
Amy tried to smile her gratitude, but it looked more like a grimace. She was sipping her coffee, but had barely touched the pancakes.
Paul spoke gruffly "Eat! Doctor's orders!" His wisp of a smile faltered as he added, "I've watched Jamie waste away these past two weeks. You can't do it too."
Amy forced down a few bites while Paul set his plate and coffee on the table and joined her.
Amy reached across to rest her hand on his and said, "Thanks."
Paul looked at her, trying to remember this wasn't the woman he loved. "Hey, we're both hurting right now. We've gotta help each other through this."
Amy was coming to recognize what James saw in Paul. "How did you know?" she whispered.
Paul paused. "Jamie came to the office last week, to try for the contract work we needed done. At the time, we thought she would get it. As she was leaving, she asked me for a favor. She wouldn't tell me what it was, but made me promise her I would do it when she asked." Paul took a deep breath. "I love her, you know?" Amy nodded. "So, I promised." Amy squeezed his hand. "Then yesterday, my boss told her we weren't giving her the contract. A few hours later, she called me to remind me of my promise, and to claim her favor."
"What was it? The favor?"
Paul looked away from Amy nervously. "She told me when you would be home, and that you would need my help. She told me to be there for you." He took a deep breath. "She told me to love you like I loved her. To take care of you. To make you happy. To give you the children you and she planned to have together." Paul was barely able to get this last out, and tears were streaming down Amy's face. "You don't think she'd ki…, um, uh, hurt herself, do you?"
Amy squeezed his hand tighter and got a faraway look in her eyes, "No, James is a very strong person, with very strong beliefs. He would never consider suicide." She took several deep breaths in order to continue, "But, from what I've seen this past couple of weeks, he may be on a downward spiral that could be just as deadly, if it can't be stopped." She looked back at Paul. "James was so sure he had that contract with your company. Do you know what happened?"
"Jamie, in her honorable way, had to tell the truth. When she talked to my boss, she laid it on the line, about her change. From what I hear, Mr. Johnson was uncomfortable, but seemed to handle it, then continued the talks into the technical details, finally all but promising the contract to Jamie at the end of the meeting. Later, he had second thoughts, and torpedoed the deal. He didn't even have the decency to call her himself."
"That was the straw that broke the camel's back, then. James would have felt that his career was ruined, having just been fired from his current contract for the same reason. And after what he has been through, it would have been too much."
"I knew something happened over Halloween weekend. Jamie changed, but I couldn't get her to talk about it. She got more distant, more moody, less predictable, always distracted. Can you tell me what happened, Amy? She must have been hurt so bad, but I didn't know how to help."
So Amy related the events of the Halloween party, the way James was callously violated, and her arrival to stop it.
"Just like with you, James wouldn't talk to me. The more time that past, the more he withdrew. I know how James thinks, we were so close before this, I can almost think his thoughts. He would have thought this was his own fault. He would have believed I would be disgusted with him for what he had done. He would have convinced himself he was worthless, maybe even considering himself a tramp. Instead of scaring him back toward being a man, the rape may have crushed the last of his male spirit."
Paul was disgusted with himself for feeling a flash of joy at Amy's last statement. He changed tack. "Excuse me, I have to make another phone call, and this one is going to be kind of tough."
Paul used the phone in the kitchen, not concerned that Amy could overhear. He dialed his boss' direct line. "Mr. Johnson? This is Paul." He listened a moment. "Fine, thanks, but I have a personal emergency I need to handle." Amy couldn't make out what came from the other end of the line. "It's about Jamie, and to be blunt, you helped precipitate the problem. In fact, I have a good amount of vacation saved up, I think I will take an indefinite leave while I consider if I can work for someone who treats other people, good people, like that." Mr. Johnson spoke at length. "Yes, I understand. Good bye."
Paul looked at Amy. "Well, that went well. Not! But it looks like I have some time on my hands if there is anything I can do to help. Really, anything at all." Paul gazed longingly at Amy for a long time.
Amy finally said "What?"
"It's just so amazing. I look at you, and I see her. I listen to you, and I hear her. Holding you last night, I felt only her. The new Jamie, the Jamie of the last two weeks, that wasn't the Jamie I fell in love with."
"Yes, she really was quite incredible. Sandy's challenge was for her to look, act, and sound exactly like me. James was so determined to win the challenge for me that he threw himself into it heart and soul. It probably helped that we were so in love, and that he was so attentive to me in the past. He was able to create a fantastic similarity in a very short time. Then the rape brought it all crashing down. He felt he had to have a self that was separate from me. He was trying to protect me, and find himself. But the pain was too much to bear, and he finally snapped." She put a hint of steel in her voice, "We have to find him. We have to help him. He needs our love like he's never needed anything before!"
*****
I woke to delicious sensations in my chest. Coming awake slowly, I felt something lightly stroking my right breast. I opened my eyes to see Jim, bare chested, leaning on his elbow, gazing at me as he brushed his finger repeatedly across my sensitive nipple.
"Mmmm" I murmured with a smile. "Morning."
"Morning."
"I could get used to that, especially if it can stop a hangover like it seems to have done. I was dreading waking up this morning. But not any more." I slipped my hand behind his neck and gently pulled his head down to my nipple. He took the hint and sucked it into his mouth, swiping with his tongue, sliding his teeth across the engorged flesh, sucking like a hungry baby. After a time of pure bliss, he pulled me toward him so he could reach the other side, and repeated his ministrations.
Finally I sighed, and pulled gently away. Jim let me go without a struggle. "Thank you for that, and for being a gentleman. I needed that, but I'm not ready to go any further right now. OK?"
Jim gave me a rueful smile. "Happy to oblige. When you're ready for more, I'll be ready too. Till then, we'll take it easy."
"Thanks."
I slipped out of bed, and stood looking down at him, as his gaze roamed over me. It wasn't bothering me in the slightest that I was almost naked in front of a man I had just met yesterday. I moved into the bathroom to pee and clean up. I came back out in one of his shirts, though it was more like a minidress on me.
Jim found something for us to eat, and made coffee. I actually felt like eating something, be it only cereal, milk and juice. I picked up my scattered clothes and walked back to Jim's bedroom. He followed behind, to find me topless, with his shirt on the bed. He walked up behind me and reached around to caress my tits. I moaned and leaned back into him. It had been so long since I'd had any good feelings. I just wanted to revel in them. Finally I moved away and pulled my dirty clothes on.
I looked at him, "Don't you have work today?"
"Oh, damn. I forgot all about it." He hustled into some clothes then towed me out the door within just a couple of minutes. "Come on, I'll drop you at your car."
As I got out next to my car, I asked "Still on for tonight?"
"You bet! Where should I pick you up? And what time?" So I told him where I was staying, and a time that would get me there early.
Back at the motel I unpacked my bags and put things away. I planned to stay here at least awhile, so I might as well settle in. Then I got into my workout clothes, some of the skimpiest I had owned, and found my way to the exercise room. I spent an hour on the treadmill, trying to simulate my normal morning walk. I basked in the admiring looks I received from the men that were using the facility. They were stroking the ego of the sexy girl that I had become when my male identity shut down. I spent most of the afternoon lounging around the pool in my bikini, alternately swimming lazily or sipping a long island iced tea in a deck chair.
I dressed casually, red thong panties, low rider jeans that hugged my every curve, a red halter-top not much bigger than my bikini, and red five-inch heels. I put a leather jacket over my shoulders to ward off the chill that would be present at the end of the night, and went into the motel's restaurant for a light dinner.
Jim picked me up at 6:30 and took me to the Lariat Club. I was early, but I was nervous. I guess I wasn't alone. The other girl that had agreed to the chance to strip was already there. I think her name was Barb. The manager took us backstage, and introduced us around, turning us over to one of the regular dancers to get ready.
"Hi, I'm Misti. I'm gonna help you tonight, show you what you'll need to do. This rack has the costumes you can choose from. Choose some shoes that fit from over there." I saw nothing in the rows of shoes that had heels as low as my highest. I wondered if I could even walk in them, let alone dance and strip. "You won the contest last night, so you get $100 tonight, plus any tips. A few of us regulars will go out first and warm the crowd up, and then you get your shot. If the crowd likes you, then you get a choice. Either you can quit there, or you can do a second routine as a kind of job interview. If Bill likes what he sees, you might get a job offer. Questions so far?"
I had picked a red, white, and blue outfit off the rack, and was looking at it in wonder. Red, full, stretchy panties that would look more like they were painted on, a blue top, bra really, with white stars, and a red and white striped short jacket.
"No? OK. Rules are, the customers can't touch you, except what they can't help when they stuff a tip in your string. You can start with wearin' as much as you want, but you end with only the G string." She reached into the outfit I held and pulled out something I swore couldn't be an item of clothing.
"I'll pick the music for you, and you get the chance to practice movin with it back in the back room a couple times before you're on. When you finish the routine, you pick up your outfit pieces and skedaddle backstage, so the next gal can go on. You can use those two makeup tables over there to get ready, then see me and we'll go practice."
As Barb headed for the table, I pulled Misti aside. I held up the G-string, "Um, is there maybe something a little more, uh, generous that I could use? I don't have a problem showing most of my body, but I have a little problem down there I'd rather not show off."
Misti grabbed a sequined thing that wasn't much bigger, but at least the strip between the legs was a couple inches wider. "Here, this is one of our old ones. They were too uncomfortable, scratchy, so everyone complained to Bill, and he got us those."
I headed off beside Barb, and poked through the makeup to see what there was. This was heavy-duty war paint. Guess it had to be to stand up to the sweat, and to not wash out in the bright lights. I scrubbed off my makeup, and carefully used what was there. Misti came over, looked at me, and doubled the blusher and eye shadow, then made the eyeliner a lot bolder.
I stepped off to the side, and checked that no one was watching. Careful to keep my nether anatomy, with its almost believable prosthesis, screened as much as possible, I stripped naked and swiftly donned the patriotic getup. Misti was right! Even with my gaff protecting a lot of me, that G-string was uncomfortable!
Misti led us to a back room, then asked who wanted to go first. Barb was eager, so Misti eyed her costume and selected a CD, slipping it into a machine. "OK, listen to the music, and watch me work through it the first time, then you try." The impromptu routine was fluid, athletic, and very erotic. No way that I could move like that. I almost backed out right then. But the song ended, and Misti tugged Barb to the middle of the room before starting the music again. At first, Barb's moves were jerky, but she got better. Her other problem was she had all her clothes off halfway through the recording. Misti had her dress, then started the music again. This time she did better, getting more sensuous movements, but she still had half her clothes on when the song ended. Third time was a better yet, though she could have used a choreographer. She moved nice, but it didn't sync with the music.
I had gotten into watching Barb, swaying to the music, thinking how I would move. Misti glanced at my Uncle Sam costume and stuck in a sexed up version of a patriotic song, working through another impromptu routine while I soaked up the rhythm.
Suddenly it was my turn. Misti shoved me forward, and started the music. I froze. I couldn't think of what to do. Then I moved a little, then a little more. Pretty soon I was doing OK, when I suddenly remembered I had to strip. Fumbling through taking off the clothes that first time really threw off any grace in my movement, and I was just stripping down the panty to reveal my G-string when the music ended. While I pulled the costume back on, I thought my way through the music, and I started to see a pattern I could follow, where a move fit with the music, where I should strip which piece of the outfit. I signaled Misti to wait a moment as I finished the mental run through. I waved and the music started again. I was still a little flustered, but I got into my mental dance, and felt how it was fitting the song. My steps flowed easier, and the movement sliding into the motion needed to remove the jacket, then the panty, and finally the bra. The third time, I stood stock still for the first few bars, scanning with my eyes as if challenging an unseen audience, a sexy pout on my lips. After the pause, when it felt right, I started to move. I felt fantastic by the end of the song. I didn't know if the crowd would like watching it, but I knew I would like doing it.
When we got back to the backstage area, it was after eight and several dancers had already performed. The current set ended, and a nearly nude girl came scampering back through the curtain. Misti handed a CD to someone, then shoved Barb through to the stage. We heard the MC announce one of the wet T winners was next up, and please give a big welcome to Barb.
Misti and I peeked through the curtain as Barb danced. She started off frightened and jerky, but as the crowd cheered her on, she loosened up, and by the end, she was doing great. She moved to the edge of the stage so the cheering guys could stuff money in her G-string, then grabbed her scattered clothes and scooted backstage.
Suddenly I was in the bright lights, feeling like a deer frozen in the headlights. The PA boomed to welcome Jamie, the other wet T-shirt winner. Then the music started, and I scanned the crowd, getting the beat. My feet moved, and my body followed. I felt a sense of euphoria as my clothes slipped away. Then suddenly it was over, and I froze for a moment in a dramatic pose. Putting a come hither expression on my face, I moved along the edge of the stage, letting the guys leave their tips, and their touches.
Backstage, Misti met me with a short satin robe and a big smile. Bill, the manager, took Barb and me aside and asked if we wanted to try another round. Barb said no, she just did it because her boyfriend wanted her to. I nodded my head eagerly, so he sent me off to find what I would wear next. I scanned the rack and pulled out a tiger stripe thing that looked pretty hot, and then took it to the back room. Dropping the robe, I got into my sexy you Tarzan, me Jane costume. I tried the opening bars of a few songs in the CD case before I found one I liked, and then just listened to it a couple times, trying to imagine my moves. I started it the third time, and twirled out onto the dance floor and let my body go. By the third practice, I knew how I wanted to do it, and took the CD and the robe to the curtain so I could watch some of the other dancers while I waited.
I saw Bill out front wave at someone on stage, or behind the curtain. Misti found me and told me I was up next. I gave her the CD and robe, and waited nervously, running the steps over in my mind. The latest girl dashed backstage and Misti signaled me. I stepped just through the curtain and waited for the music to start. I began with the twirl out to the center of the stage, and flowed into the routine I was visualizing. The beat of the music was like jungle drums, and it soaked into me right to the bone. My moves were savage, erotic, tormenting, and the costume pieces seemed to drop away almost without my help. Then the song was done, and the watchers cheered and whistled, and I made my round for collection. Bill met me back stage and offered me the job on the spot, as he handed me the $100 prize for dancing.
I thought about it. I was out of work anyway, and I didn't want to delve into the new bank account if I could help it. "Sure."
He responded, "Ok, you work Saturday, then the five weeknights next week, then we talk it over and decide if we both want to continue."
I had a thought. "Sounds fine to me. But there is some unfinished business I need to take care of soon. After this week, not sure exactly when yet, I'm gonna need a week off to wrap up some loose ends. Can you work with that?"
"Let's see how the week goes. If you work out, I think we can fit it in."
I gave him a hug, and a peck on the cheek, and then went off to put my own clothes back on. It was only then that I realized I'd had that whole conversation essentially naked.
Misti came by, "Hey, congrats. But you gotta take it easy on Bill, the rest of us have to work around here, so don't spoil him!"
I cleaned off the stage paint, and did my face with what I had in my purse, then made my way out front to find Jim. He cheered as I walked up to his table, and had a gin and tonic waiting for me. I leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek. I hadn't had time to do much with my tips, just stuff them into the purse after each dance. I pulled them out, straightened them up, and counted it. I had nothing to compare to, but $84 tips plus the $100 didn't seem bad for dancing two songs.
We watched the professionals dance for a while, and I tried to absorb as much as I could. After my second drink, I asked Jim to take me home. He tried to talk me into coming to his place, but I begged off tonight, then invited him out for dinner the next night, if he was free. He agreed and drove me home. He walked me up to my room, and there at my door, he kissed me for the first time. The kiss lasted what seemed forever, and I gave as good as I got. When it was over, I stroked his cheek, thanked him for the night, and backed in my door.
I thought about the kiss. Not bad! Maybe not up to Amy's standards, or even Paul's, but for a while it would probably do just fine. Did I really want this? I decided the answer was Yes! James was gone in body and in spirit, at least for the time being. What was left was the sexy lady formed in the aftermath of my two rapes. The loose woman who took her pleasure where she would, and took no prisoners. Would I sleep with Jim? I didn't know. Now that I didn't have Amy or Paul, it was probably only a matter of time before I found someone to share a bed with. Well, that was a question for another day, but I knew it wouldn't be any time soon.
I stripped, showered the sweat from the dancing off, and fell naked into bed. Tomorrow would be busy.
*****
Amy and Paul devoted the day to looking for James/Jamie. Neither was willing to accept that he/she was gone for good. They spent time talking together about how they might find her, or for Amy to sob helplessly on Paul's shoulder. Other times they separated to try places she might go. Their efforts were fruitless, and it was late when Paul dragged himself home to bed.
Friday, Nov. 20
Amy rose early from a restless night, feeling more tired than the evening before. Even coffee didn’t rouse her. She made a list of places to try today, and people to call to ask if they had seen James. Except for Sandy and the other doctors who had treated him, he was not likely to talked to anyone he knew that did not yet know about Jamie. She highlighted Rick Simmons on the list, hoping he might have some insights on what James would do.
Paul was just as exhausted, and had even less of an idea what to do to find Jamie. He was also in turmoil about his boss. With no ideas in mind for the search, he went walking, hoping desperately that Jamie would be waiting for him.
*****
I woke slowly, then sat up in bed and stretched, looking down at my bare body. Streamers of bright autumn sunlight leaked through the curtains and highlighted stripes of my clear skin. I wrapped my arms around myself, giving myself a hug, and reveled in the freedom I felt from James' screwed up life.
The top I donned this morning was a little more demure, coming down almost to my cute little tummy button, but the skirt was deliciously short. Skyscraper heels, of course, and tasteful, well, maybe almost slutty makeup. I admired the lips that Sandy had fashioned. Kissable lips, I thought. Maybe even cocksucker lips. I giggled. No time for breakfast today, besides, my body is my meal ticket for the moment. Have to keep it trim for the boys.
I walked to the corner to buy a paper and a coffee at the Starbucks, then went back to my room to search the classified ads for apartments. I wanted to find something before my week in the motel was over. With a job now, it looked like I might stay in the area awhile. I found several promising ads, plus some listings for apartment finding services. Lots to check out, but I had time.
I pulled out my laptop and connected to the motel's wireless internet. First thing I had to do was set up a new e-mail address. Amy seldom used e-mail, but she did occasionally, and she had access to it from the computer I'd left behind.
Clicking the shortcut I'd saved, I went off to the web site of that doctor, Wells I think his name was. The one with that procedure to disguise my penis, make me look like a girl. I figured I'd been lucky with my one night so far, but I didn't want to push it. Besides, James is gone, at least for now. I need to be me. Jamie.
I reread the information, and then drafted an e-mail to his business address, laying out my femme history, and inquiring what the wait time was for the procedure. I explained I had a new job where the risk of discovery was very real, and I would like to get the procedure as soon as possible, to minimize the discovery risk.
I sent that off, then started calling on the apartment ads. Most of the calls resulted in crossing them off the list. Too expensive, wrong side of town (meaning near Amy), bad vibes. After a couple hours of calling, my list was down to a handful. A very small handful. Oh well, I didn’t have to find one today.
I glanced at my watch. If I left now, I could hit the bank, then get my blood drawn before lunch and have that out of the way. I checked myself over in the mirror, freshened my lipstick, and headed off. First, I found the closest post office, and rented a post office box. Now I had an address I could use. Then I visited a nearby branch of my bank. I changed the address on my new account, and applied for a credit card attached to that account. Next, it was Dr. Myers office for the blood draw. Afterward, I found someplace to eat, and had a shrimp salad with iced tea. Then I looked at my list and headed off to the nearest apartment I hadn't crossed off.
It wasn't a bad place, nor was the rent unreasonable. But it just didn't grab me. I may have to settle for something like this later, but it wasn't going to happen at the first place I checked out.
The next place was a real dump. I didn't even get out of the car. And so it went. None of the places I got to today were perfect enough to jump at. I kept a short list of the places I liked best, but by the end of the day, there were only three of those. So much for a quick and easy find!
On the way back to the motel, I picked up an apartment finder magazine at a convenience store. It was mostly worthless ads, but there were some legitimate entries there.
Back in my room, I pondered what to wear. Then I wondered where to take Jim. I decided I was in the mood for barbeque, so I went with a somewhat western theme. Not that I had any western clothes in what I brought with me. Another pair of really tight, really, really low cut jeans, not flared at the ankle, but wider — a boot cut. The top was like a red, blue, and white checked shirt with mid length sleeves, button front and cropped, with little tails that tied real high up under my boobs. I put my jet hair up in a high ponytail, tied with ribbons to go with the shirt, and that pair of red shoes with the five-inch heels. I carefully applied my makeup, a little less subtle than for daytime. Even a little less subtle than I used to use at night. Then it was out the door, and off to Jim's apartment.
Jim was dressed casually too, faded jeans, flannel shirt, and cowboy boots. We seemed to go together.
I asked if he knew of a good barbeque place in the area, since I was new here, and he directed me. It was great barbeque. I would have to remember this place. It had the whole western theme going, but kind of laid back, kind of tasteful, not blatant. We had a good meal, and I found Jim quite easy to talk to. He was comfortable sharing himself, telling me about his work, his family, what he liked and disliked. I tried to deflect his questions about me, but he drew it out of me over the evening. Of course, it was an edited version of the truth, close enough that I wouldn't have to remember out and out lies. I had lost my computer job, and my loving relationship had fallen apart. There had been another man toward the end, but he too was out of the picture now.
The evening went well. I even tried a little line dancing with him. It was still pretty early when I drove Jim home. I insisted on escorting him to the door, returning his courtesy from yesterday. Besides, kissing is so much better standing at a door than contorted across the middle console of a car. Jim asked me in, but I declined, saying I would see him again soon. He promised to be at my club the next night.
I got home and checked e-mail before bed. I was really surprised that there was a response from the doctor. Well, someone in his office anyway. It detailed the procedure a little more than the website. I'd have to stay the night in their clinic after the procedure, and then would be fairly tender for up to a week. Typical waiting time was 3 to 4 weeks, but quicker appointments were sometimes possible. They asked for a picture, needing to verify that I indeed dressed as a woman, as close as they could come to verifying I was in my RLT at this long distance.
Knowing they wouldn't see it till Monday, I got the built-in webcam in my laptop ready, and then captured several shots. Sticking the best pictures in the reply, I sent it off. Then I kicked my heels into the closet, and dropped my clothes in my dirty clothes pile. I hadn't had the gaff off for a while, so decided to free my willy for the night. Then I gratefully slipped between the sheets and into sleep.
Saturday, Nov. 21
I woke before the wakeup call. At first I was disoriented, wondering where I was. Then it all came crashing back. I almost gave up at that point. But I shook it off, and pulled myself from bed. As I showered, I looked at the pitiful specimen between my legs. Maybe it would just be better to get it cut off. In desperation, I stroked it and teased it, trying to get some reaction. While the sensations were pleasurable, it stayed quite limp. My balls seemed smaller than I remembered too, but I couldn't be sure.
I washed my body, then my hair. Stepping out of the tub, I patted gingerly with the harsh motel towel, and used the blow dryer on my hair. I pulled on some sexy casual clothes, grabbed the apartment finder magazine, and spent the morning in the coffee shop, sipping coffee, eating dry toast and a bowl of fruit, and searching the ads for a new home.
Having gone completely through the half-inch thick magazine, I had dog-eared maybe ten pages that had ads that interested me. I had a few hours before I had to be back to the Lariat Club, so I decided to check out some of the closer ads.
The first stop, I liked the best of what I had seen so far. It was close to the club, and shopping. It was small, but clean, and had a nice layout. Best of all, it had included high-speed internet. The rent wasn't too bad, and I didn't have to sign a lease. I decided to take it, and made arrangements to move in on Tuesday, so they could have their maintenance man fix the few problems I pointed out.
One more problem solved. One more nail in the coffin of my old life.
I wasn't in a hurry to change the address on my bank account, as I figured I might find someplace I liked better before long. I'd just keep using the PO box. But I would have to remember to get the address changed on my driver's license.
With that out of the way, my thoughts turned to my new job. I had been thankful for the distraction of apartment hunting this morning, but now that was gone. I had to show up at around three PM to get indoctrinated, and fill out all the forms, so I had a few hours to go yet. That reminded me, I had to get my social security card changed. I looked up the address of the local SSA office, and went off to see if that was even possible.
I had a salad someplace for lunch after surviving the inquisition of several petty bureaucrats, but at least that was out of the way.
Finally it was time. I drove to the club, and walked backstage. Bill escorted me into his office and offered me a drink. Then he got down to business. He listed the rules the dancers had to live by. Seemed to be pretty basic stuff to me. Dance a certain number of songs during the night. Circulate through the crowd some of rest of the time, encouraging drink purchases. Customers could buy us drinks, but those would come to us as tea, even though the customer paid drink prices. Lap dances for tips were OK, as long as the touching rules were followed. Absolutely no prostitution-related dealings on premises, but I had the impression it was OK away from the club, as long as we were discrete. I could start with the costumes they had, but might want some of my own after I got established.
Then came the paperwork. New name. Old SSN. New address. No phone yet. W4. Sign a copy of the rules. On and on and on.
It was after five when we were done, and Bill sent me out to Misti, who would get me squared away on rotation, costumes, music, etc. She started out by asking what name I wanted to use to dance.
"Huh? What's wrong with Jamie?"
"Nothin, darlin. Just that most girls don't like to use their real names."
"Oh. Right. Um, how about Dawn?"
"Alrighty, Dawn it is. Let's get you outfitted."
I learned I would only do three dances tonight, as it was my first night. Misti let me pick out the costumes, then sent me to the back to choose some music and practice. She came back after awhile with something for me to drink, then watched as I tried to develop routines for each of the costumes. I had some ideas already, but she gave me lots of tips, and the routines got better.
Someone stuck her head in the door and called Misti, who told me "It's time, come on."
I had no idea so much time had passed! I slipped into the first costume I planned to wear, and followed Misti to the dressing room to apply makeup. Then I went toward the stage, clutching my CDs tightly. Misti took them, handed them to someone I couldn't see, and had a few words with him. Next thing I knew, I heard the PA system boom out "Next up is a brand new girl tonight, the winner of the wet T contest this week, lets give a big welcome to Dawn!" Before I knew it, I was pushed out into the bright lights. Moments later, my music started, and I tried to put myself into the rhythm. In what seemed like moments, it was over, and there was applause and hoots and whistles. I pulled my awareness back to the here and now, and circulated for my tips.
Backstage, Misti handed me a top and shorts and told me to put my tips away and get out and circulate. I pulled the skimpy clothes on, marveling at how exposed I felt in them, then slipped through the hallway to the bar area and emerged into a room filled with smoke and noise and bodies, mostly male. I looked around, bewildered, and moved out toward the tables, searching for Jim, hoping he would be there. I finally saw him at a table near the stage. I moved toward him, but found myself in the lap of a guy sitting at the table I was passing.
"That was quite a show, darlin! Let me buy you a drink." He waved a waitress over. "What'll it be, sweetheart?"
I looked at the girl, "Um, you know my favorite."
She responded "Ok, and you sir?" speaking to my somewhat inebriated host.
"Yeah, I'll have another beer."
The waitress disappeared, and I was left trying to figure out what to do, sitting on some strangers lap. I felt a lump growing under my bottom, and looked desperately for an empty chair to move to, but there were none close. Why hadn't Misti briefed me on how to handle this!
I managed to fend off his hands, and exchange a few words with him before the drinks arrived. It looked like a shot of whisky, and I tossed it back in one gulp, then pretended to splutter a bit as if it had burned its way down my throat. There were catcalls and whistles from the other guys at the table, and I was wishing it really had been straight whiskey.
"Here, babe, let me buy you another one."
I gave him a peck on the cheek, and said, "Thanks, you’re a sweetie, but that's my limit right now. I have to get up there and dance again in a few minutes." With that I popped up and fled toward Jim. I made it this time without getting captured again.
I gave him a peck on the cheek as I sat in the extra chair at his table.
"Aw, you're not gonna sit in my lap?" he moaned.
"Maybe later if you're a good boy."
He put an over-dramatic leer on his face. "Oh, I'm good. I'm very, very good!" and wiggled his eyebrows.
I giggled, and swatted his arm. "Behave, you!" Jim was drinking a beer, and I picked up his glass and pulled a long draw from it.
"Hey, I would have bought you one of your own, you know. You don't have to drink all of mine!"
"Sorry, don't have time right now. Got to circulate. You staying around awhile?"
"Sure thing. I can't miss the best damn dancer they got here getting up there to strut her stuff!"
I blushed crimson. "Say, guess what! I found a place today. I move in Tuesday."
"That's great! Need any help?"
"No, but thanks anyway. I don't have much stuff." I felt a jolt of pain flash through me. "I should be all moved in by the time you get off work."
He looked a little disappointed. "Oh, Ok."
"Gotta go, Jim. See you in awhile." Not knowing how soon I would be on again, I scurried backstage to find Misti and see.
Bill stopped me. "Hey, what's the deal drinking the customers beer instead of getting him to buy you one?"
"Sorry, he's a friend. I didn't feel right making him pay a drink price for tea."
"Well, fraternize with your friends on your own time. When you're out front, spend your time with the customers that'll buy you a drink!"
"Ok, Bill. Sorry. Do you know when I'm on again?"
"Nope. But you can check with the DJ through there, he keeps the rotation so he can match your music." He pointed at the dark alcove where Misti had been passing my music CDs.
I checked, and found out I was on in about 20 minutes, so I went to change into the next outfit and redo my makeup.
I made it through the other two dances, and thought I did ok for a beginner. But I hoped I'd get better with a little more practice. After my last dance, I found there were showers we could use, so I rinsed off as quickly as I could, dressed in my own clothes, and did my makeup. Walking out to the front, I found Jim still at the same table, and collapsed into a vacant chair. He asked if I wanted a drink, but I declined. I was too drained, and I still had to drive back to the motel.
I got "home" and fell into bed and sleep immediately.
Sunday, Nov. 22
I didn't want to wake up, but the sunlight was hitting me right in the eyes through the curtain that wouldn't quite close. I managed to get to the bathroom and take care of business. Then the first priority was coffee, even if it was only one of those little two-cup pots that motels have. After drinking the first cup, I was able to pry my eyes open. After the second cup, I figured I could face getting dressed.
I strolled out the door, and let the brisk air revive me, finally bringing me fully awake. In the coffee shop, I had yogurt on fruit, and more coffee. With that out of the way, the only pressing thing I could think of was I needed a phone. In a nearby convenience store, I bought one of those cell phones that you pre-pay the minutes. I figured with the amount of time I would spend on the phone, that would be ok for the foreseeable future. Now I had a phone number without waiting weeks for the phone company.
I drove over to the new apartment, and checked out the neighborhood. I found a park a block or so away, and got out to check it out. There was a walking path, and I strolled along it to see how long it was. I didn't think it was as long as the one I used to use, but wasn't sure.
Not having anything else to do, I went back to the motel and cruised the internet some more, trying to understand if I was really transgendered, or just badly mixed up. By dinnertime, my eyes were beginning to blur, so I knocked off and went out for a bite to eat. I was really looking forward to having access to a kitchen again. That made me think of cooking for Amy, and my eyes grew damp, but I violently pushed those thoughts aside, and ate my dinner salad.
That evening, I watched a little TV, but retired early, and cried myself to sleep.
Monday, Nov. 23
After another tasteless breakfast at the coffee shop, I once again found myself in line at the DMV. I needed to get Amy's address off my license. I had spent a little more time on my grooming than last time, so the new picture was not quite so ghastly. Then it was the bank to order checks with the new address.
Back at the motel, I changed to exercise clothes and spent a couple hours working out in their minimal exercise room. It was empty most of the time, being a workday, but there were a couple of cute guys that spent some time there that I could tease.
In my room, I showered and washed my hair, shaving any stubble I found. I dried my hair and brushed it till it was shiny and silky. With just a towel wrapped around me, I sat at my computer and checked e-mail.
The doctor in Colorado had sent a response. They had given me preliminary approval, based on the pictures I sent, and had reserved an appointment for me just after their Christmas holiday, on January fourth. They quoted the fee for the procedure, and said a deposit was required to hold it. I e-mailed back immediately that I would take it, and that the deposit would be in the mail today. I wrote down the address, so I could get a money order and fill out an envelope when I got one. I was still a little leery of having that procedure on my genitals, but I was more afraid of being found out at work.
Having been kind of depressed recently, I decided to do something about it. I pulled out my laciest black panties and slipped into them, then pantyhose with a faint crosshatch pattern that hinted of fishnet stockings. From the closet I grabbed a really short, tight, black leather miniskirt, and found a gray and white plaid flannel long sleeved shirt. Donning the shirt, I left it unbuttoned deep into my cleavage, and tied the tails of the front up under my braless boobs to give them some support. The skirt left a lot of leg showing, and there was a lot of midriff on view as well. I did my makeup in my new bolder style, even maybe pushing it up a notch more. Cherry red lipstick added a bright contrast to my monochrome clothes. I cleaned off my nail polish and replaced it with red to match my lips then some large gold hoop earrings, a gold bracelet, and several rings. And finally a pair of black five inch pumps. I looked in the little mirror over the dresser, and moved around to try to see everything. I looked pretty good. I thought I just might elevate a few masculine heart rates today, and giggled at the thought.
On my way to work, I stopped at a convenience store to get a money order in the amount of the deposit for my procedure. Then off to one of those mailing places, to send it off in an express letter envelope. Everywhere I went, I was conscious of men staring at me, and I put a little extra wiggle into my walk to keep them watching.
I got to work a little early, and sought out Bill, to add my new phone number to the employment papers. Then I went looking for Misti. I needed advice on how to handle a situation like Saturday, when the guy pulled me into his lap. I also blushed a little when I asked her about lap dancing.
The night went much as Saturday night had, except I ended up doing five dances, and spent more time hustling drinks. Jim wasn't there as a distraction for that part of my job. Employing Misti's advice, I even got a few tips from the guys I sat with. I also got two offers for dates and one proposition to earn $500 for a night of wild sex, all of which I was able to gracefully decline. I ended up getting out of the club sometime after one AM.
Tuesday, Nov. 24
This was moving day. In spite of my late hours last night, I bounced out of bed, did my morning ritual, dressed in the grubbiest clothes I had brought (short shorts and a halter top), and then packed everything into my suitcases. It only took about an hour to pack, and then search the room carefully for anything I might have missed. I checked out of the motel, and then found a grocery store to pick up some cleaning supplies. I drove to the new apartment, and found my new parking space, then had to wait about 15 minutes for the office to open before I could get my key.
First thing was to clean the kitchen and bathroom, plus all the drawers in the bedroom. That took the rest of the morning, so I took a break and got a quick salad for lunch. On the way back, I stopped at the grocers again and stocked up with food and utensils. Back at the apartment, I carried everything inside, and got the food put away, then unpacked my suitcases.
I just had time to fix, eat, and clean up a meal in my new kitchen before I had to be off to work. On an impulse, before I walked out the door, I pulled out my new cell phone and dialed Jim.
"Hello?"
"Hi, Jim."
"Oh, hi, Jamie! How are you doing? Did you get moved OK?"
"Yes, and I was thinking, now that I have my own kitchen, maybe you'd like to have dinner over here tomorrow, before I go to work?"
"Sure, Jamie, that would be great! I've been wanting to see you again."
"Me too. Can you be here by 5:30? Then, maybe you'd like to go to the club with me and watch me dance again?"
"I'd love to. I'll be there!"
"Good. See you then. Bye."
Tonight at work was pretty much a repeat of last night, except I was tired going in, so the night dragged by, and I was exhausted by the time it was over.
Wednesday, Nov. 25
When I woke, the clock said it was after ten! I guess I'd really worn myself out, what with the moving and the extra dancing last night. It felt great to be able to just eat in for breakfast. The restaurant slop had gotten very tiresome.
I went out and found a small TV to buy for the apartment, plus a few other odds and ends to give it a bit homier feel. It was just a quick trip, and I got back in time to have some tuna and crackers for lunch. I checked and refreshed my makeup, then headed out to Dr. Myers office. After a brief wait, I was shown into his office, and he bustled in just minutes later.
He was looking at the lab results as he came in. "Hmm. Good news, maybe. Estrogen levels are down, so maybe those implants are finally wearing off. Now you are just about the level of a mature woman, way down from a pubescent teen. And T level is a bit higher. I wouldn't expect it to come up much, as the presence of Estrogen in the current levels will keep it suppressed. But it’s encouraging that it is up at all. It may mean there is some hope. See me again in two weeks, and get your blood drawn four or five days in advance." With that he was out the door.
I've never seen anyone that could talk like that man!
At least the news wasn't depressing.
On the way home, I made another stop at the grocery store, as I wanted to do something a bit special for Jim tonight.
My thoughts turned a little sad. Jim seemed like such a nice guy. Oh, there was no fire there, like there had been with Amy, nor even a spark like with Paul. He was pleasant to spend time with. But it couldn't go anywhere. I was no good for him.
By 5:30 I had the garlic bread in the oven, the spaghetti sauce and noodles going in their separate pots, and was putting the finishing touches on a salad. The doorbell rang just a few moments later, and when I opened the door, Jim swept me into his arms and gave me a kiss.
"Howdy, Tiger!" I purred at him.
"Hello yourself! It's good to see you again. I've been looking forward to this all day!"
"Well, if you don't let me go, your dinner won't be worth eating!"
"Who cares about dinner? You look good enough to eat!"
I slipped under his arms and dashed to the kitchen to rescue the bread. "There's wine on the counter here, would you pour please? Sorry about the plastic cups, I don't have the kitchen fully stocked yet."
I finished the salad while he prepared the wine, then shooed him out to the table with the wine and salad while I served two plates of spaghetti, and brought them out after him.
We ate in silence, but I was aware of his eyes on me most of the time. It made me blush to be the focus of that intent scrutiny.
Finally he said, "So, how is the dancing going?"
"Ok, I guess. I still have a lot to learn. Especially about handling the rowdier guys while I'm out front encouraging the drink sales. And I was pretty tired after last night."
"I'm really looking forward to watching you again tonight."
"Good, it will be fun to have you there."
I washed up the dishes, then got ready for work. I was learning to dress a bit tarty to go to work, since it was good advertising for the club as I was coming or going. That went for the makeup as well. But then, that was what fit the new me best anyway.
I settled for my leather miniskirt, and a tube top that came close enough to supporting my boobs that I could skip the bra. I giggled when I saw my nipples poking through the fabric. Dramatic eye shadow in shades of blue, heavy on the eyeliner and mascara, sparkly red lipstick to match my nails, and I was ready to go.
I told Jim I'd drive tonight, then he wouldn't have to worry about how much he drank.
The crowd was more than I expected for a Wednesday, and the tips were pretty good too. I made it through the evening better than last night, probably because of the good nights sleep. I was getting a little better at putting routines together, but I still had to spend too much time in the back room working them out. I envied the more experienced girls who could whip it out on the fly.
I was pleasantly tired by closing, and Jim had a nice buzz, but wasn't drunk by any means. I drove us back to my place, and Jim walked me to the door, where he held me tenderly, and kissed me. I was a little sad, because I knew I was going to have to break it off with him for his sake. I had hurt too many people, and he was too nice a guy to hurt like that. I decided the give him a proper farewell, though. I kissed him back, putting a bit more spirit into it, as well as a little tongue. By the time we broke that kiss, we were both panting. I unlocked the door then stretched up and nipped his ear, and whispered, "Want to come in for a bit?"
He pulled me up till my lips met his and my feet dangled above the ground, and then walked through the door, kicking it shut behind him. Before it even latched, I was unbuttoning his shirt, but the kiss was so distracting, I wasn't making much headway.
After we broke off the kiss, I could work my fingers a little better. But I began wondering if this was what I really wanted. Then I remembered Jerry and Marv, and what I had done with them. At least this time it would be my choice. And what else would anybody expect from a little slut like me?
Before I got his buttons all open, Jim had set me down, and slipped his hands up under my tube top, generating very pleasant sensations inside me by gently massaging my boobs and tweaking my nipples. With the shirt finally open, he paused long enough to strip out of it, then jerked my top up and attacked my left nipple with teeth, lips and tongue. I moaned and pulled his head tight against me, then started backing into the bedroom, pulling him along behind me.
I swung him around so he landed on the bed, then quickly pulled the tube top over my head, and pounced on him, straddling his hips, with my mouth glued to his, and my hands frantically working the button and zipper on his jeans. When that finally gave way, I popped back off the bed, grabbed his pants and briefs, and yanked them down over his feet, taking his shoes along with them. I paused long enough to push my skirt down to the floor, leaving me in my panties and heels, and him in his socks. I urged him back up so he was completely on the bed, then straddled him again, deep kissing him, and feeling his rapidly stiffening cock against my belly. I squirmed around, rubbing his cock head all over my tummy and panties, and down through my crotch, all the time keeping him in a lip lock.
After a few minutes of that, I started wriggling down, kissing his chin, his throat, his hard chest. I nipped his tiny nipples, causing him to jolt, and then worked my way down over his abs, finally arriving at the nest of hair above my target. I reared back up on my knees over him, and carefully took his pole in both my hands, and started to stroke it lovingly. Jim closed his eyes and moaned.
I kept that up for several minutes, then crawled backward, and leaned down to kiss the drop of pre-cum from the tip. I hesitated a moment, realizing this would be the first time I'd broken my wedding vows by my own choice. Did I want to? That part of my life was over. I had to look for fun where I could find it, and with this sexy body, my best source of that was pleasing men, as Jerry and Marv had so well impressed on me!
My lips opened and slipped slowly over the bulb, while my tongue swirled around the tip. I had now crossed a line, and I knew there was no going back. I kept up a gradual descent, keeping my tongue in motion the whole time. When the tip hit the back of my throat, I shifted a bit, and pushed forward some more, till my nose was buried in his pubic hair. I lightly scratched his scrotum, and made a rumbling growl deep in my throat, transferring the vibration to Jim. He lunged his hips forward reflexively, driving the shaft even deeper down my throat, but I didn't retreat. Yet. A few moments later I pulled slowly back, till he almost popped out of my mouth, back down to the bottom, pause, lick, rumble, up. I set up a gradually increasing rhythm, and Jim matched it with his driving hips. It was only a short while later that I felt him stiffen, his cock grew, and suddenly there were jets of fire pulsing down my throat. I bobbed up and down, working to extend his climax, doing my best to swallow whatever he shot.
Then he relaxed, and stopped moving. I licked around his shaft, and kissed the tip gently before crawling up and snuggling against him.
After awhile, when his breathing had slowed, his hand began to wander over my body, touching everywhere he could reach. He kept this up a long time before he focused his attention on my boobs. He switched sides often, teasing my nipples back to steel hardness. He leaned over and sucked one nipple into his mouth, then continued to vacuum up the tit flesh around it till his mouth was stuffed with as much as he could fit in. His tongue worked my nipple inside his mouth like a pro. His hand kept the second of my twin peaks busy, until he switched sides to favor the other one with his mouth for a while. Changing sides periodically, he continued to stimulate, building the fire higher within me, causing me to writhe under his assault, until the heat exploded through my body, and I spasmed and arched my back off the bed, finally collapsing as the heat faded.
As I drifted in lassitude, Jim let his hands wander. I roused enough to stop the one that was approaching my hidden secret, and whispered, "Not down there, please." His hand moved away.
We drifted off to sleep cuddled together.
Thursday, Nov. 26
I woke Jim in the dawn by deep throating his morning woody. He reared up in bed, looking down at the top of my head as I worked his tool, then settled back and closed his eyes again, this time not in sleep. It wasn't long before I was gifted with more liquid fire.
I rose from the bed, and strutted to the bathroom, swinging my ass and looking provocatively back over my shoulder. When I came out awhile later, I wore my sheer robe, panties, and high heeled slippers. I strolled past Jim and out to the kitchen to start coffee, bacon, eggs and toast.
Jim emerged a few minutes later, dressed in his clothes from last night, and took the coffee mug I offered. I pointed him to the table, and a minute later laid a plate in front of him piled high with bacon and eggs. I sat across from him nibbling a piece of toast and a strip of bacon, watching his face as he ate. I needed to remember that face. He'd been there when I needed him.
When he finished, I stretched across the table and laid my hands on his. "Jim." He looked at me and I looked deep into his eyes, then away to hide the tear that was swelling in my eye. "You're a good guy, Jim. You've been a good friend, right when I really needed a friend. Thank-you." He started to speak, but I held my hand up to stop him. "Like I said, you're a good guy. I'm not good for good people. I hurt them. I bring pain. I can't see you any more."
"Jamie…"
The tears were starting to leak out of my eyes now. "No, Jim. You finish up now, and go on to work. Forget about me, Jim. I'm no good for you. I don't want to end up hurting you." I dashed from the table and closed the bedroom door firmly behind me, leaning against it and sobbing quietly.
Jim pounded on the door. "Jamie, open up."
"No. Go away." I screamed. There was silence for a long time.
"I have to go now, Jamie. I will be back. We need to talk."
"No!" I screamed.
After awhile, I heard the front door close, and I slid down to the floor, curled into a fetal position, and continued to sob. I must have fallen asleep because the next I knew it was getting dark. I pulled myself up and listlessly got ready for work.
I opened my laptop and checked e-mail. There was another one from Dr. Wells. There had been a cancellation for next Tuesday, was I interested? I fired off a quick call to the club, to talk to Bill. Fortunately, he was there.
"Hi, Bill. It's Jamie."
"Hi, Jamie, everything alright?"
"Yeah, fine. Uh, Bill, you remember when I took the job; I said I needed a week sometime to straighten out some personal business? I don't know if you've decided to let me stay, but if you're going to, could I possibly take this next week off? It's really kind of urgent to get this taken care of quickly."
"Jamie, that’s going to be pretty hard so soon after you started, are you sure it has to be right away?"
"Yes, unfortunately. Please, Bill, it's really important."
"Ok, Jamie. We'll work around it somehow. And by the way, if you keep up like you've been so far, you'll be around longer than this week."
"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! I really appreciate this, Bill. See you this evening. Bye."
I fired an e-mail off to Colorado right away, saying I would take it, and requesting a quick reply so I could make travel arrangements.
As I finished getting ready for work, my thoughts circled back around to Jim. I would miss him, but he was better off without me. Then I thought about what I had done last night and this morning. I had been unfaithful to Amy voluntarily for the first time. I am supposed to be a man, yet I had sucked a guy’s cock. Twice! I guess this just proves what I've believed since Halloween. I am a worthless slut. Someone who takes her clothes off for the entertainment of others. Some one who sleeps around. Oh, God. I had unprotected sex last night! I could have AIDS! I may not have much of an opinion of myself, but I sure don't want to kill myself, especially in such a horrible way.
I decided that since I couldn't seem to control my baser instincts, I better keep protection on hand, and make sure I use it the next time I slip. I also need to get an HIV test soon. Wonder how long I have to wait before it could show up in the test?
On the way to work, I stopped at a drug store and picked up a box of condoms, and slipped several into my purse as I climbed back into the car.
My first dance tonight must have reflected my depression, because the tips were definitely light, and when I got backstage, Bill dragged me off to the side and told me to get my act together (no pun intended) or I wouldn't have to worry about taking next week off.
So instead of mingling with the customers, I went back to the back room to practice and try to get my head back into the game. It must have worked, because the rest of my dances got a better response, and Bill didn't chew me out again.
Friday, Nov. 27
When I checked e-mail after lunch, Dr. Wells' office confirmed me for Tuesday, and supplied instructions about not eating after noon Monday, and to be at the clinic by seven AM.
I immediately used the internet to make reservations to fly up Monday, and to fly back Wednesday. Then I found a motel near the clinic, and booked a room for Monday night.
That night at work was a little different. The dancing went better, but the real twist was after the first dance, when I went out front to "mingle", a guy dragged me into his lap.
"Hey, cutie. How about having a little drink with me?"
I gave him a little smile. "Ok by me." But instead of signaling a waitress, he handed me a whiskey glass from his table about half full of an amber liquid, neat. It was one of several sitting there.
"Here, babe. Try some of the good stuff, this is Jameson's."
I took a sip, and it burned deliciously all the way down. So I took a little bigger swallow. I felt the warmth spreading out from my tummy. "Not bad!"
"Got that right, honey, this is the best!"
He kept me on his lap till I had to be backstage for my next dance. Before I got up, he stuffed a $20 bill into my bra, and said there would be another one if I came back after the next dance. So I did, and he pulled me into his lap again, and shoved another glass of whiskey into my hand. Same thing, drink the glass of whiskey, sit in his lap till I go backstage, dance, then back to him for another $20, and another Jameson's.
This lasted all evening, then he asked me back for another drink after my last song. By that time, I'd had four of those tumblers of whiskey, and I was feeling pretty good, so I agreed. We sat and watched the last few dancers, and walked out together when closing came. Or rather, he walked and I staggered, leaning on him. Outside, he whispered in my ear, "How about coming to my place for one last drink?" I obviously wasn't thinking straight, because I agreed. He escorted me to his car and held the door for me, then went around to slide behind the wheel. 'Nice car', I thought. 'Jaguar XK8. Just a bit out of my class.' I snuggled down into the leather seat, and watched dreamily as the buildings slid past. I fished in my purse and found several condoms, slipping them into my jeans pocket. I had a feeling how this evening would end. I couldn't tell you where we went; only that it wasn't far before he parked in the garage of what turned out to be a pretty swank condo.
Inside, it was obviously a guys place. Probably had a cleaning service, or a maid. Everything was neat, clean, expensive, modern, and lacking any personal touch. He led me to a comfy leather sofa, then went to a wet bar and came back with two generous tumblers of what I assumed was more Jameson's, since he seemed to favor that. Handing me one glass, he sat beside me.
"You're a beautiful woman, Dawn."
I was feeling no pain by this time. "Why thank you, um…"
"Rob."
"Rob." I looked over his face, and lean muscled body, and said, "And you're a beautiful man, Rob." I giggled.
"Why, thank you!" he laughed. Then he tipped my chin up with his forefinger, and leaned down to kiss me. He held the kiss for a moment, and then I felt his tongue swipe my lips. He pulled back and looked at me, then took my glass and set it with his on the glass-topped coffee table. He wrapped his arms around me and kissed with more fire, probing with his tongue, until I let my lips part so he could enter. My head was already spinning from the whiskey, and the kiss wasn't helping any. I didn't feel his gentle touch on my breast right away. It didn't penetrate my fogged brain until a moan escaped my lips, and I realized it was because of the tingling spreading over me from the nipple he was tweaking through my top.
He stood, and scooped me up in his arms, walking toward a hallway.
"Rob?" He quieted me with another lingering kiss. He laid me on a bed, and our lips separated. "Rob, I don't think…" His mouth closed over mine again. His hand went to my boob again, then after a bit, while the kiss still held, slipped under the edge of my cropped top, and up over the mound of flesh to the hard nub at its crown. I moaned into his mouth. Now his hand slid my top up around my neck, baring both tits, and he divided his attention between the now revealed breasts. Then his mouth left mine and sucked in one nipple, and shortly my moaning increased. I tried again, "Rob…" His attack escalated, with both hands and his mouth moving, kissing, stroking, sucking, tweaking, nipping, pinching, licking, and my protest trailed off into a moan. "Rob…" he pulled back abandoning my boobs, "…don't stop!" I realized he was pulling off his shirt, and in moments he was giving me the pleasure I craved. One hand worked the button on my jeans, but they were so tight he was making little headway. Without volition, I realized my hands were down there, succeeding where his had failed, and then pulling down the zipper for good measure. I fished the foil packets out of the now loosened pocket and stretched to lay them on the nightstand. He slipped my five-inch pumps off my feet, then tugged the skin-tight jeans down, and finally off, leaving me in just my panties and the top that was tangled around my neck.
I felt his hand moving toward my buried treasure, but even in my current muddled state, I was quite sure he wouldn't appreciate what was actually hidden there. So I pushed him back and attacked his slacks, then pulled off his shoes, socks and pants. I giggled at the red silk boxers he was left with, and then stripped them off as well. What had appeared to be a bump in the front of the boxers turned out to be a flagpole instead, because it poked straight up when the boxers came down. That got another giggle out of me. I leaned over him, dangling my DD's over his member, swinging them to slap him around, then dragging them back and forth. Placing my hands on the outer sides of my pendulous boobies, I squeezed them together around his cock, and then moved them up and down, stroking his erection. Rob lay back on the bed with his arms crossed behind his head, watching the show.
I peeked up at him from under my hanging hair, and grinned foolishly. Then I pulled back, grabbed a foil packet from the nightstand, ripped it open and smoothed the condom onto him. I started to lick his lollypop, around the top a few times, then full length top to bottom, and back up. I moved down and gently sucked one of his balls into my mouth, swirling it carefully around with my tongue, then let it pop out so I could move up and engulf the head. I just sucked on that for a while, gently, then stronger, then gently again. I took most of his length into my mouth, and started bobbing up and down, swishing my tongue around at the same time.
He grabbed my head with both hands to stop it. "Wait…" he whimpered. I froze for a few moments, and then started swabbing him with my tongue. He groaned, "Stop!" But I just kept licking. He quickly pulled my head up off of him, all the while panting.
He flipped me over on the bed and reached for my panties. "Unh, unh, unh!" I waggled my finger in his face.
"I want inside you!"
I was pretty far gone with the booze and my arousal, but still knew what a disaster that could be. "Sorry, pussy's off limits tonight." He frowned, and I giggled, "but there is another opening available." I rolled onto my tummy, pulled up onto my knees, and stuck my bottom in the air. A look of astonishment flashed across his face, but then he was reaching into the nightstand drawer for a tube of lubricant gel. He crawled up behind me, and pulled the back of my panties down. I felt something chilly against my sphincter, which I tried to relax. Something slipped inside, moving in and out easily, spreading the slippery gel. Then it withdrew, and I felt something much larger press against me. I was pretty loose from the drinks, so I didn't tense up as he slid into me. There was only a slight twinge of pain; totally unlike the agony I endured the last time.
He slid slowly in a bit, then out a little, then in a bit more, working his way ever deeper, till he could go no further. He started a slow pumping movement, gradually increasing the speed. By now, all pain was either gone, or it just didn't register. But the feeling of pleasure was growing. Rob reached around me with one hand, kneading one breast while his other hand rested on my rounded ass cheek. The sensations were starting to overwhelm me, and I was moaning continuously. I felt his rhythm start to get ragged, and then he started squirting his seed into the condom. He spurted for long seconds, and then resumed the rhythm. The pressure building in me continued to grow, then he pulled back his hand and gave my ass a resounding smack, and that tipped me over the brink. I shook and felt electric arcs shooting through every part of my body, then when it finally faded, I collapsed on the bed, pulling him out of me in the process.
I was dazed, and exhausted, and just curled up on my side, pulling my panties back into place. A few moments later, I felt a large warm body curl around me and pull me close. Soon after, I heard heavy breathing behind me, and slowly drifted into sleep myself.
He took my rear entry again sometime during the night, while I was mostly asleep, then another time as the early morning sun shone through the window. The condom packets on the nightstand were gone. I sure hope he thought to use them because I was too sleepy to remember.
Saturday, Nov. 28
I was walking kind of gingerly when I got out of bed. My abused anus was complaining about any movement. We dressed, and Rob drove me back to my car at the club. He was the gentleman again, opening his car door for me, then mine after I had unlocked it.
I slid behind the wheel, and he leaned in to give me a kiss. As he pulled back, he stuffed something into my bra cup, tweaking my nipple at the same time. "Thanks for the great night, babe." Then my car door was closed and he was back in his car and gone.
I reached into my bra to fish out whatever he left, and found five crisp hundred-dollar bills. Ok, now I can add hooker to slut, tramp, and all the other tawdry labels I knew applied to me. I wasn't a bit surprised that I had come to this.
I drove back to my place, letting my mind wander where it would. I wondered how Amy and Paul were doing, and felt a stab of jealousy and pain. Shoving that ruthlessly aside, I thought about what I would do today, but came up blank.
I removed the gaff, and then took a shower, making sure I washed off all my makeup from last night. I lay down on the bed naked, and dozed off. I hadn't had much sleep last night.
I woke up with a hollow spot in my tummy, and saw it was after three. Guess I had a pretty good nap. I drifted out to the kitchen, not bothering with clothes, and fixed something light to eat. Sitting at the table, I wondered what to do. Well, it is Saturday. Erin suggested I visit Mikaela's on a Friday or Saturday, to meet more of the community. She said there was dancing, and maybe I could get some additional perspective on my gender problems.
I didn't expect the crowd would get very big till on toward eight, so I had some time. I tidied up around the place, still naked, letting my wee willy dangle free. This was the longest it had been out of captivity for ages. It was looking kind of shriveled, and white, and more wrinkled than usual. I examined it more closely. I could not see that it was either better or worse than before. About 6:30 I showered again, then glued it back into its prison to begin getting ready.
I chose a royal blue minidress with a halter-top, which left a plunging neckline in front. It needed a strapless bra, so I found a black one, and matching panties. I cleaned the red polish off my finger and toenails, and redid them in a plum color. Makeup was next, more subdued that I wore to the club, but bolder than I used to wear. I smoothed nude sandal toe pantyhose up my legs, and stepped into the dress, fastening the halter behind my neck. I slipped into matching blue open toed sandals with four-inch heels, and then selected jewelry to complement. Finally, a few dabs of perfume, and I was ready to meet the world.
At Mikaela's, I stopped inside the door to look around. My gaze swept the crowded tables, and then scanned back. On the second pass, I saw an arm and hand waving excitedly in my direction from a table toward the back. Glancing around to make sure it wasn't intended for someone else, I started making my way across the room, and as I approached, I saw that it was indeed Erin.
"Jamie! It's so good to see you! I was afraid after all this time that you wouldn't come back! My, don't you look fantastic!" she gushed.
"Hi, Erin. You look pretty hot tonight, too. Yeah, a lot has happened since I was here last."
"Hey, everyone, this is Jamie." She said to the others at her table. "Join us, won't you, Jamie?" There were two apparent girls, including Erin, and two seeming guys. In this place you just couldn't tell, though.
"Ok, if I'm not imposing." Everyone seemed agreeable, so I slid into a chair.
A waitress showed up then, so I ordered a rum and coke.
Introductions were made, and their conversation picked up, presumably where it left off. I managed a word now and again, but mostly just listened and sipped my drink.
After awhile, a band started playing. They sounded pretty good. I didn't dance a lot, but I danced a couple fast songs with all of us girls together, and a few songs with each of the guys, some of them slow, some fast. It was fun, and relieved some of the tension that was an ever-present companion.
We three girls made a potty run part way through the evening, and freshened our makeup while we were there. It turned out that the others at our table were exactly what they appeared. Erin was the only 'alternative' in our group. The others had found the place through friends and acquaintances, and had become semi-regulars, forming other friendships among the clientele, including Erin.
Erin announced that it was time for her to leave about 10:30, and I was ready to go by then too. We walked out together, and stopped by her car to talk.
"So, Jamie, got any plans for tomorrow?"
"Um, no, not really. I have to do some packing for a little trip I'm taking. Other than that, just get settled into my new place."
"Would you like to meet for lunch? You still owe me your story, and I intend to collect!"
We arranged to meet at a little Italian place called Tony's at noon. She gave me a peck on the cheek, and climbed into her car. As I drove home, I wondered how much I should really tell her, and how to fill in the gaps I chose not to reveal. My mind chewed on the problem all night, so my sleep wasn't very restful.
Sunday, Nov. 29
It was late when I finally roused myself. A peek at the clock said it was after ten. In the bathroom, I drew a hot bath, and used some of Amy's bath oil. It felt good to just soak, but I finally got moving to shave any stubble, and wash my body. I opened the drain and stood under the shower to rinse off, then wash and condition my hair.
When I came back into the bedroom, I thought about what to wear. I settled on the green slacks ensemble I had selected while trying to find a style for Jamie. I wanted to give Erin a good impression. With my current self-image, I wasn't quite sure why, but I felt it was important.
I went with the barely there look for my makeup, more like I wore when I resembled Amy. I slipped into the least provocative lingerie I had, which was probably about like Amy's sexiest. Then the hunter green slacks, light green embroidered blouse, and the sweater. I brushed my hair till it cascaded smooth and sleek down to the tops of my shoulders. I dabbed on just a touch of perfume, found a little jewelry to wear, placed the appropriate items in a simple black purse, and was ready.
I got to Tony's a little early, after a bit of a search. It was a nice looking little neighborhood place, and thankfully wasn't crowded today. They showed me to a table, but I asked if we could use a secluded booth in one corner. They seated me there, left two menus, and brought an iced tea I asked for.
Erin showed up about five minutes later, looked around, then saw me wave and came to join me.
"Hi, Jamie. You look really nice today."
"Thanks, so do you!"
The waitress approached and asked if we were ready to order. We weren't, but Erin asked for an iced tea also. She said she would be back and left us to look over the menus for a few minutes.
From behind hers, Erin said, "So you have a new place, huh?"
"Um, yeah."
"Is it nice? Are you getting settled in OK?"
"Yes, it's pretty nice. I have a few things yet to get to make it home."
The waitress came for our orders, delivering Erin's tea. Erin ordered the veal parmesan, and I chose spaghetti with marinara, and a side salad.
When the waitress left, Erin looked me up and down. "That's kind of a light lunch, isn't it? It doesn't look like you need to lose any weight. If anything, I think you ought to be putting on a few pounds."
I blushed. "It's just a habit I've formed since I started dressing. Besides, I have to keep trim for my new job."
"Oh ho! New place, new job. What happened to the old ones?"
I took a deep breath. "I got fired from my job for looking like this. And I've separated from my wife, and had to move out of our house."
She looked sad, "Oh, Jamie, I'm so sorry. Couldn't your wife handle your dressing, your changes?"
"No. She handled them OK, in fact she had a big part in them. I just had to get away before I hurt her any more." I felt tears welling in my eyes, and fought to keep them back.
Erin reached across the table and squeezed my hand. "Sweetie, I'm sorry I've upset you. Let's not talk about that right now, OK?" I nodded, afraid to speak. "You've got a lot to deal with. Why don't we defer the story till after lunch? We can go back to my place, or to yours, where it is a little more private." I nodded again.
Our food arrived, and I took a few bites of salad, while Erin oh'ed and ah'ed over her veal.
"So, you're going on a trip? Vacation? Business?"
I thought how to answer. "Neither, medical."
"Oh, nothing serious, I hope." There was her instant concern again. "You sure don't need any medical problems with all you have going on!"
"No, nothing serious. Just a cosmetic procedure to help me pass better in my new job."
She scrutinized my face and upper body. "You pass pretty darned well. What else could you possibly need?"
I blushed again. "Um, down below."
Erin gasped and her hand flew to her mouth. "Not 'the operation'! I thought you said you weren't sure about that."
"No! Nothing like that. There's this doctor up in Colorado that does some kind of a tuck thing so you can pass a fairly close inspection. It's nothing permanent, and there's no major surgery, no vagina or clitoris. Just a camouflage job."
Erin giggled. "Neat! But why would you need something to pass on your job. What do you do?"
I started blushing again. "I started last week at the Lariat Club."
"That place over on Third? It's a strip joint, isn't it? Are you waitressing there? You sure have the figure for those skimpy costumes cocktail waitresses always seem to wear."
My blush was threatening to light up the whole room. I mumbled, "No, I dance."
Erin's hand flew over her mouth again, and her eyes just about popped out of her head. "You strip?" she gasped, then looked around quickly to see if anyone heard. I just nodded, looking down. She whispered this time, "My God! You're pre-op and you take your clothes off on a stage in front of a bunch of horny guys?"
I nodded again. She looked at me in awe. "How could something like that happen? And aren't you afraid of being spotted?"
I answered her second one first, "Yes! And that's the reason for the trip. And how it happened? A guy I was with talked me into a wet T-shirt contest. I was a bit drunk, so I agreed. I came in third, and the top three places got to come back the next night to dance a routine for $100. I was still pretty drunk at the time, so I agreed to that too. I was petrified before that one dance, but I got through it, and it was terrifying and thrilling at the same time. After that, they offered us a chance to dance once more as an audition for a job. I was the only one that tried it. That second dance was easier, and just as exciting. It got me hooked, so when they offered me the job, I said yes, since I was out of work and needed an income. I've danced five routines each night this last week."
Erin had sat in stunned silence through this whole explanation, her food forgotten in front of her. "Wow!" She stuck a bite of veal in her mouth and chewed absently. "Wow!" She looked at her half finished veal and my almost untouched pasta. "You haven't eaten much. Are you going to? I've just got to get you alone and hear this whole thing!"
I looked at the salad I had almost finished and the pasta, but my stomach was in knots. I had no desire for food right then. "I don't think so. Let's go."
Erin insisted on paying, and rushed me out the door. We decided to go to my place, so Erin followed me in her car. Inside, she looked around.
"Have a seat, would you like a glass of wine?"
"Yeah, that would be great." She sat on the couch.
I went to the kitchen and brought two plastic cups of chilled white wine, handing one to her, and taking mine to sit in the chair across from her.
She couldn't wait. "Ok, spill. I want the whole scoop. How could you possibly look so good after only two months, and how did it happen if you were never into cross-dressing?"
I collected my thoughts for a moment, then told her of Amy, and our loving relationship, then Sandy, Amy's friend, and the friction between us. Then came Sandy's challenge, for me to look and act like Amy at the Halloween party. The cosmetic surgery and implants that Sandy performed, the studying my beloved Amy, the voice practice, the mannerisms. Fearfully going out as Amy's near double, the beauty shop and shopping. Social situations. Meeting Paul, friendship which may have evolved into love. Then the discovery of hormone and anti-androgen overdose. How my body developed further, the loss of male function. Finally the Halloween party. I very carefully left out mention of the rapes. I could not share that shame with Erin.
Then after the party, my tailspin into depression first because of not being able to go back, then losing my contract, then losing the last chance at Paul's company. Changing my legal name. My departure to shield Amy and Paul from pain. Getting drunk the night I left, and meeting Jim, the wet T-shirt contest, and the job offer at the strip club. I told about finding this place and moving in. Again, I left out my goodbye night with Jim, and the night with Rob, and his payment for it.
Erin sat dumbstruck through the entire narration. She had refilled our glasses several times while I purged my soul. When I wound down, she stared at me for a long time in silence, sipping her wine.
"You lied to me, girl!" Oh, god, what had she figured out. Could she suspect the rapes? "You told me I'd be bored with your story. You held me spellbound the whole time. This is almost unbelievable."
I hung my head. "It's all true." I was just barely holding myself together after relating my fall from happiness.
She watched me silently for a few minutes, and then knelt in front of me, putting her hands on my shoulders. "There's more, isn't there?"
My body shook as a huge sob erupted from deep within me. She pulled me to her, and wrapped her arms around me, resting my head on her shoulder. "Tell me, please." I shook my head. Tears leaked from my tightly shut eyelids, soaking into the fabric of her blouse. "Shhh. It'll be alright. Let it all out."
I shook my head again and moaned, "Noooo. It will never be alright again. Don’t you see? I've lost my wife, my soul mate. She must despise me. And I can't live without her!"
Erin pulled back and lifted my chin, but I kept my eyes tightly closed. "Look at me." I shook my head. "LOOK AT ME!" I reluctantly opened my streaming eyes, and she searched their depths. "Why would she hate you?" I remained silent. She whispered, "There's more, isn't there?" I hung my head and nodded. "Please, tell me."
I choked words out around my sobs, relating a barely coherent description of my encounters with Jerry and Dr. Albert. How I finally understood what an awful person I really was, how I fled to protect Amy. How I willingly betrayed Amy with Jim, and how I became a whore with Rob.
She held me tightly, rocking me back and forth. "You poor dear. No one should have to suffer what you've been through. None of this is your fault. You were manipulated, and taken advantage of. You were stripped of your self-respect, and put in a position where you hated yourself. But I feel your strength, your inner beauty. You will beat this. You will!"
She held me awhile longer, and then guided me to the bed. Turning down the covers, she gently helped me out of my sweater, blouse, and slacks, laying them neatly over the back of a chair, then lay me on the bed. She searched my closet and dresser, finally coming up with only a couple transparent baby doll sets. "Don't you have anything decent to sleep in, girl?"
"Don't you get it? People like me don't sleep in flannel nighties. Whores flaunt their bodies!" That set me off into another spate of sobs.
She shushed me, and slipped my bra off, and the red baby doll over my head and down over my body. Then she pulled my panties off and put the matching red panty on me, then pulled the covers over me. I lay there and shivered and sobbed. Erin went to the kitchen and made a quiet call on her cell phone, then came back.
"I'm not leaving you alone tonight, Jamie. I just called my roommate to tell her I was staying here."
Erin shut off all the lights and checked the lock on the door. I heard a rustle of clothes in the darkness, and then felt the bed sag as she climbed in. Then I felt the warmth of her body snuggle against my back, and arms wrap around me. "You sleep now, Jamie. I'm right here. You're not alone."
I didn't think I'd sleep soon, but the next I knew light was streaming in the window, leaking through my closed eyelids.
Monday, Nov. 30
I felt the warm limbs tangled around me, and whispered "Morning, Amy my love." Then I remembered. Amy is gone. It took me awhile longer to piece together where I was, and who was in bed with me. I peeled my eyelids open, and slid away from the warm body, then propped myself on an elbow to take in my sleeping companion. We had kicked the covers off during the night, and I could see she had donned my royal blue baby doll with no panties. I gazed at her lovely body revealed by the near transparent garment. She was beautiful. And this felt right. The way it ought to be. There should be a soft feminine body there, not a hairy masculine one. Now if there was only some way it could be my true love.
As she slept, my gaze roamed over Erin. I already knew her cute face. It was hard to believe she had been born male. And I suspected since she was having to save for the final surgery that she'd had almost no cosmetic procedures. Moving down, the baby doll shadowed, but failed to hide a pair of pert breasts, about B cup, or a tad smaller. Very nice, though, and I had the urge to reach out and caress them. Moving my eyes downward, I saw her flat tummy and attractively narrow waist, flaring out to slim but feminine hips. At the vee of her legs, there was a tuft of silky hair with a miniature penis peeking out. The rest of her genitalia was hidden from my view. Further down she had long, slim, toned legs that many women would envy, and many men would ogle. Even her ankles and feet seemed feminine. Once again, had it not been for the one flaw hiding in her pubic hair, I would never have believed she had not been born female.
I fought the urge to stroke her lovely body, and just drank in the sight with my eyes. As if she felt my gaze, her eyes slowly opened to see me staring at her. She blushed demurely, but did not move to cover herself. "Morning," she said as she stretched languidly. Then she let her eyes roam over my body similarly revealed. She curled around for a better look between my legs. "Mind if I peek?" She looked up at me, and I shook my head. She slipped my baby doll panties down, baring the imitation vagina. "Amazing! I've never seen anything like this." She poked at it, and then began exploring the folds. As she probed deeper, I felt a twitch from the buried organ, then when she stroked the right place, I moaned. "Oh, sorry." She examined the edges where it was glued to me. Then she pushed away and gracefully stood beside the bed, again stretching her lithe body. She grinned at me, "Hope you don't mind. I thought I'd see what it was like to sleep in something like this. I don't have anything even close."
I looked at her lovely form. "You should. It looks really nice on you."
She blushed. "Thanks, but I think I'll hold out till things are right." She looked at me searchingly. "How are you today? You had a pretty rough night last night. I'm sorry I put you through that."
"Don't be. I needed that. Those emotions have been bottled up too long, and it was good to let them out."
She sat cross-legged on the bed facing me, and I got a better glimpse between her legs. "You really should let Amy know you're alright, you know. She shouldn't have to suffer through wondering if you're ok."
My vision blurred, "I can't."
"Why not?"
"I've got to stay away from her for her own good! Can't you see that? All I can do is hurt her! She's better off if I just disappear from the face of the earth!"
"Actually, no, I can't see that. In all the years you were married to her, was there ever, even the slightest indication she didn't love and accept you? Even after the changes you went through?"
"No," I whispered.
"And does she blame you for what happened at the party, and with that other guy?"
In a tiny voice I answered, "She says no, but she must! She must be disgusted with me. How can she not?"
"First, because she loves you. Second because she put you in both of those situations. And third, because rape is not the victims fault! Did you do anything to entice them? Did you ask for it?"
"I don't know. I must have. How else could it have happened twice? It must be me!" I buried my head in the pillow.
Erin turned me over and shook me. "Get this through your head! It. Was. Not. Your. Fault!!! Now get on that phone and call your wife!"
I shook my head and tried to shrink into myself. Erin stomped over to my purse and brought it back, fishing my cell phone out of it and thrusting it at me. "Call!"
I took a couple deep breaths, and then took the phone in trembling hands. I stumbled over keying in the number, and had to try a couple times before it was right. I pressed the talk button and shivered as I waited for it to ring. After four rings, the answering machine picked up, and I breathed a sigh. Maybe I could manage to leave a message. I don't think I could talk to Amy right now.
Beep. "Um, Amy? This is Jamie. I just called to tell you I'm ok. And I'm sorry." I pressed the disconnect button and the phone slipped from my fumbling fingers. I buried my face in my shaking hands. "Oh, God. That was awful!"
Erin said, "You're right. But it's a step. And you have to find it in you to take the next step, and the next, until you're back where you're supposed to be. If you can't love yourself, if you can't trust yourself, love Amy. Trust her." Erin glanced at her watch. "I've got to get to work. Are you going to be OK?"
I nodded my head.
Erin found the bathroom, and soon I heard the shower running. I dragged myself to the kitchen and got the coffee going. Soon, Erin came out of the bathroom, toweling her hair dry, unconcernedly appearing nude in front of me. She started putting on the clothes she had removed last night, and was soon dressed.
"Coffee?"
"No thanks. I don't drink it. Besides, I have to get home and change for work. Bye, Jamie. Take care of yourself. Find your way home."
I grabbed her in a bear hug, which she returned, then had to pry me off her to get out the door. "Bye," I whispered to the closed door.
After a couple mugs of coffee, I managed to fix some dry toast, and choke it down, then looked at the time and realized I had a flight to catch.
I grabbed my suitcase and found some not too outrageous clothes to take along. I was coming to realize my choice of clothing when I left home was somewhat shortsighted. I showered, dried my hair and combed out the tangles, put on light makeup, then about the most comfortable clothing I had, skintight jeans, peasant blouse, knee high sheer stockings, and four-inch heels.
As I drove to the airport, and during the flight to Colorado, my mind whirled with all of the unresolved questions that my conversation with Erin had stirred up again. Was I right to leave Amy? Was it fair to her? Was it fair to me? Was any of this my fault? What should I do? By the time we landed, I was no nearer answers than when I left.
After a taxi ride to the motel and checking in, I left my bag in my room and walked up the street to see where the clinic was. It was an easy walk. I should have no problem carrying my small suitcase up there tomorrow.
I wasn't to eat tonight based on the instructions I'd received, so I retired to my room and watched some mindless TV. Mostly it was background noise to the battle raging in my head. The same questions kept plaguing me. But no good answers would emerge. By the time I finally drifted to sleep, about the only thing I had decided was I couldn't decide. So, I was going to have to stay away from Amy, live the life I had now, until I could resolve these feelings. With that non-resolution, the turmoil in my mind faded, and I slept.
*****
Amy dragged in the door after surviving another day at work. She saw herself in the front hall mirror. God, how did she keep from scaring her patients away? Her cheeks were hollow, and there were dark circles under her eyes even her makeup wouldn't hide. She hadn't slept well in almost two weeks, since the night James had left. She had dropped ten pounds, and her energy level was down. Way down.
She dragged into the kitchen thinking she should eat at least a bite. The answering machine was blinking cheerfully, and Amy hopelessly punched the button and headed toward the fridge.
Beep. "Um, Amy? This is Jamie. I just called to tell you I'm ok. And I'm sorry."
Amy was back at the machine before the last word, praying there would be more. All she heard was another beep. She listlessly picked up the phone and dialed the number she had called nearly every day since James disappeared.
She heard Paul answer, and broke down in tears, blubbering into the phone, "Oh, Paul, he called. James called!" and broke down into helpless sobbing.
"I'll be right there, Amy. Hang in there!" and the phone went dead.
Fifteen minutes later, Amy had pulled herself together somewhat by the time the doorbell rang. She opened the door, and the sight of Paul set her off into a torrent of tears again. Paul all but carried her to the kitchen and replayed the message, trying to hear over Amy's sobbing.
"Hey, come on, Amy. At least we know she's all right. Look on the bright side."
"But we still don't know where he is. Oh, Paul, what am I going to do? This is killing me." She collapsed against him, and he gently carried her to the bed as he had many times the last couple weeks. He pulled the covers back, laid her gently on the sheets, slipped her shoes off, and spread the blanket up to keep her warm.
He sadly walked to the door, and switched off the light. He was about to leave when he heard a whispered "Don't go." He turned to look back, and Amy managed a stronger "Don't go, please. Not tonight."
Paul shut the door as he moved back to the bed, and lay on top of the spread, holding Amy tightly against him as she cried herself to sleep.
Amy woke hours later, and reveled in the comfort of the strong arms wrapped around her. She turned her head, and searched with her lips till they found other lips bracketed by scratchy beard stubble. She came to enough to realize this couldn't be James. He almost never had stubble like that. At this point, she didn't care. She needed the physical sensations of love. The passion of her kiss mounted, and slowly the lips started to kiss back. When she broke the kiss, she heard a sleepily mumbled "Jamie?"
"Yes," she lied.
"Oh, thank god." And the stubbled face sought hers and kissed deeply.
Amy melted to the strong chest, and started stroking with her hands anywhere they would reach. She found where the shirt had pulled loose from the waistband of the pants, and found warm hairy flesh, sliding her hand through the hair, feeling the hard muscles underneath.
Strong male hands began a quest to find Amy too. And as they slid into the blouse Amy still wore, her nimble fingers were frantically unbuttoning his shirt. He tried to do the same for her blouse, but the buttons were too fine, and he made little progress. Amy finally gave up stroking the broad chest she had uncovered to push his hands aside and attack the buttons herself. She made short work of them, and almost ripped the blouse off herself.
The questing male fingers were back, feeling the smooth flesh of Amy's flat tummy, then sliding up and under her bra to find her points of pleasure standing erect. Amy gasped at the contact, and started tearing at the fastenings of Paul's pants. Sometime during the struggle, Paul finally realized this was not really Jamie, but by now was so frenzied that he couldn't stop.
Mere minutes later, they were both naked, and trying to feel the other everywhere at once. Their breathing was growing ragged, and sweat beaded their bodies. Paul rolled on top of Amy, and moved his manhood so it poised over Amy's waiting slit. The tip brushed her moist folds, torturing them both with sensation.
Paul froze. "Amy? Are you sure? I won’t do this to James if you're not certain."
Amy paused, her hands resting on Paul's slim hips. Was this right? Yes and no. No, because it violated her marriage vow. Yes, because they were here, now, and James was not. And she needed a loving touch just to survive tomorrow. Amy's heart was beating like a drum as she agonized over the decision. Then her hands tightened on Paul, and pulled him down with all her strength while driving her hips forward, impaling herself on Paul's cock. She screamed, and shook with a massive climax, then settled into the age-old rhythm as led by Paul. It wasn't two minutes later when she arched her back and succumbed to another blinding orgasm. Paul maintained his stroke as she froze, and he waited patiently for her to rejoin the dance. His breathing was labored by now, and sweat dripped into his eyes. He knew he couldn't last long, but he forced himself to wait for Amy. When they were once more in step, he knew the end was here, and plunged as deeply as possible, then shuddered and pulsed life into her depths. The feeling of the sperm hot inside her drove Amy over the edge yet again, and she groaned in triumph. They drifted into sleep wrapped safe and warm in each other’s arms.
Tuesday, Dec. 1
Amy sensed the light from the morning sun, and the strength and warmth of the man wrapped around her. Memories of last night seeped back, and she was amazed that she could betray James as she had. But she also couldn't forget the incredible pleasure she had felt in this time where pleasant things were not to be found.
'Yes, it was incredible, but it is not Paul that I love, it's James' she realized. 'I needed this to get through this nightmare, but it can never happen again.' She carefully moved away from Paul and moved slowly into the bathroom.
Paul became aware of the chill as the soft warm body moved away, and he mourned its loss. The memory of last night was clear and joyful in him as he roused further. He had finally made love to Jamie. No, that's not right. That was not the woman he loved last night, just her double, even if this was the original. Amy was a wonderful woman, but it was the quirks and flaws as well as the beauty that made Jamie the one he loved. And it was not fair to Amy to use her as a substitute for the one he wanted to make love to. He would have to be more careful, and avoid a repeat of last night.
As he thought this, a naked Amy came from the bathroom, stretching her arms above her to work out the stiffness of the night. He almost fell back into the trap; so incredible was the sight of Jamie, stretching enticingly almost within his reach.
Amy picked a robe up off the chair and wrapped it around her. "Thank-you Paul, for last night. It was beautiful, and it was what I needed at the time. But please, help me make sure it never happens again."
Paul could only nod as the words stuck in his throat, and then he watched his vision of Jamie walk to the kitchen to start coffee.
*****
The phone jangled in the half-light before dawn, rousing me from a restless sleep. I remembered I had to check into the clinic early this morning, so I carefully removed the gaff and showered. As I washed my genitals, I was surprised at the sensations the stroking aroused. It had been so long since I had felt that, I closed my eyes and continued to stroke. Did I detect a little swelling of my cock? Or was it just wishful thinking. I shook myself out of the reverie and finished washing. After drying off, I donned a similar outfit to yesterday, adding a sweater for warmth, and packed everything else.
Emerging into the cold early morning, I realized that weather here is nothing like the warm desert where I live. My sweater did nothing to shut out the cold, and I shivered the whole way to the clinic. It was slightly warmer when I got through the doors into the admitting area, but I continued to shiver.
We got the paperwork done, and I was led to an office where a doctor waited.
"Good morning, Ms Hastings. I'm Dr. Wells, and I need to ask you a few questions before we proceed. The main purpose of this procedure is to aid pre-operative transsexuals in succeeding in their Real Life Test, by removing the anxiety of the discovery of their male genitalia. As it is a temporary, or reversible, procedure, the Benjamin Standards of Care don't really restrict it. However, I like to understand my patient's state of mind before I agree to do this surgery. Tell me about yourself."
I thought for a moment how to phrase my response. "I have been under a psychologists care for some time now about my gender issues, and have been under a doctor's care for hormone therapy, and the cosmetic procedures I have received so far. I have dressed and worked as a female full time for the last several months, and have recently started a new job that makes the risk of discovery great enough that I wish to undertake this procedure. I have not satisfied the one-year requirement, so reassignment surgery is not an option, nor am I totally convinced that it will be right for me when I do pass that anniversary. I hope you approve this, as I am under a lot of stress in my current job because of fear of being 'read'."
"Well, it is obvious from your appearance, and your commitment to live as a female full time that you are serious about your transition, even if the end result is undecided. Do you have any documentation from your doctors?"
"No, I was not aware I would need it for this procedure."
"Technically, I don’t require it, however, I would have preferred to see it. But you're correct; we do not state that as a requirement. I see no reason why we cannot proceed. Just to be clear, you wish this procedure to be reversible in the future. Is that correct?"
"Why, are there considerations here that might affect that outcome?"
"Um, possibly. Under certain circumstances, we are allowed to proceed with full SRS earlier than suggested by the SOC." My heart was suddenly beating quite rapidly. "We have a psychologist, Dr. Martin, here on staff. If that is desirable on your part, and our psychologist concurs, we could potentially proceed with the full surgery immediately."
"Oh!" My mind was in a whirl again. There was a certain appeal to just doing it. At least the quandary would be over. There would be no need to worry in the future which way to go. I felt myself weakening.
"Ms. Hastings, I can see you're seriously considering this. Why don't we set you up with Dr. Martin and you can work it out between you. OK?"
"Um, ok." At least that would let me have a chance to think more, to talk it out with the shrink, maybe make a rational decision. There was probably no way this Dr. Martin would approve me, anyway.
An hour later, I was sitting in another office waiting for the doctor, trying to make sense of this. I felt I was treading a tightrope here. On the one hand, I had to be careful in what I said. I fully expected if I told this shrink what really happened, they would likely refuse to do either full SRS or the temporary procedure. And I needed at least one of them. On the other hand, even to that end I was not willing to fabricate outright lies. The incomplete truths I had told Dr. Well seemed the best path. There were no lies in that, other than of omission.
Dr. Martin came in and greeted me. He was a bear of a man. Big, well muscled, with a full bushy beard. His suit seemed to bulge, and looked about to burst open, but not because the doctor was fat. Just very large. He had a soft voice that soothed me. I relaxed immediately.
We must have talked for almost two hours. The story I told was all truth, but as earlier with Dr. Wells, left out many of the reasons things were as they were. Finally, Dr. Martin sat back in his chair and regarded me critically.
I was getting a little nervous as he studied me. Finally I had to break the silence. "Um, doctor. I, um, hope that you will at least approve the procedure to disguise my genitals. I would hate to have made the trip all the way up here for nothing."
He paused a few more moments in silence, then nodded his head decisively, and reached into one of his desk drawers to withdraw a form. He scanned down it, and filled in several blanks, finally signing the bottom with a flourish.
"This certifies my approval of you as a patient. Good luck. I hope all goes smoothly for you."
"Um, thank-you, Dr. Martin." He stood and shook my hand, then ushered me out of the room, leading me to a nurse's station where they would prep me for the surgery.
I handed the form from Dr. Martin to the nurse who directed me to a single room with a bed and attached bath. That would be my room after surgery. They told me to take off all my clothes and hang them in the tiny closet, and put on the gown I would find there. Someone would come for me shortly. As I waited, I finally realized that I was glad I wasn't getting full SRS now. In fact, I figured I would probably never want it. At least not while there was any chance of becoming James again!
I was wheeled to an operating room in a wheel chair, and helped up onto the table, then covered with a thin blanket that did little to ward off the chill. Soon a doctor entered and hooked an IV into my arm. He explained that this was a saline drip to help keep my body hydrated, and they would use it to administer and regulate the anesthetic during surgery. I was getting a little nervous. This seemed to be an awfully elaborate setup for the supposedly simple procedure I had come for.
The doctor started to inject the anesthetic into the IV, and explained I would be out within a minute or so.
"Wait, doctor. What procedure are they doing here? I am afraid you might be setting up for the wrong one. I was supposed to have a simple procedure to mask my penis."
"That I don't know. You'll have to ask Dr. Wells."
Just then, the door opened. I was starting to feel drowsy when Dr. Wells spoke, "Ah, Ms. Hastings. I see you have opted for the full surgery. Good. We will begin in just a few moments"
Through the fog in my brain I forced out "Wait, Dr. Wells. I don't want full surgery, just the reversible procedure!"
The room was fading.
I fought my way back to consciousness, and felt a dull ache in my groin. I tried to remember what had happened. Suddenly it came rushing back, and I realized with horror it might be over. It might be too late! I tried to move my hands down to my crotch, but they wouldn't work right. I struggled to wake more, but the anesthetic was slow to release me. I sagged back exhausted, and waited for the cotton in my head to clear. Finally I was able to move, and tried to find a way to move my hands down, but all they encountered was bandages. Tears started leaking from my eyes, and I slipped again into darkness.
"Well, let's take a look at you." I jolted awake at Dr. Wells' cheerful voice. "Everything went just fine, Ms Hastings. I expect a very good result. Let me just peek under these bandages and see how you are doing."
I was almost in tears again. "Please doctor. Which procedure did you perform? Please tell me you didn't do anything permanent!"
"Calm down Ms. Hastings. I read Dr. Martin's report. Both he and I thought SRS was the right path for you and that performing it now rather than later would relieve you of a great deal of anxiety." I was terrified now. "However, I understood your message very clearly in the OR. We did as you requested. I think you are making a mistake, and that you will be back here for the full surgery soon. And I fear you will suffer mental discomfort until that time."
I sagged back in relief as the doctor examined the area under the bandages, and then had an orderly come in and replace them with fresh. "Yes, everything looks good, Ms. Hastings. Assuming no complications, you should be released tomorrow morning, and now no one should suspect your physical gender without actually probing the area. Rest well tonight and I will see you in the morning to release you."
I cycled from floating in a drug-induced numbness with a dull ache in my groin to being clear-headed, but with some definite pain. All in all, it wasn't a restful time, and I was glad when the ache/pain eased enough that I could sleep.
Wednesday, Dec. 2
"Well, Ms Hastings, let's have a look." I was again jolted out of sleep by Dr. Wells. Damn! That was a very irritating habit he had.
He peeled the bandages off and viewed the area closely. I had a quick but not too clear glimpse of the area, and became worried again that I was now really female. The peek I had gotten sure looked like a woman.
As the orderly replaced my bandage, the doctor was giving me final instructions. Basically I should keep it dry, carefully remove the bandage to pee, and then reapply it. I could remove it completely tomorrow evening. He also told me any time I wanted to either finish the job, or reverse the temporary procedure to come back and see him. He then told me I could go as soon as I dressed. I bid him goodbye, wishing I was away from here already.
I called a cab from my room, and then dressed. An orderly wheeled me out to the lobby with my suitcase in my lap, and a few minutes later the cab arrived. As I watched the clinic recede behind me, I felt an unreasonable relief.
The flight home was uneventful, if a little uncomfortable. The drive back to the apartment was difficult because I was so tired. At home, I ate some veggies from the fridge and fell into bed.
Thursday, Dec. 3
I had to pee pretty bad when I woke, and ignored the discomfort in my crotch as I made my way into the bathroom. Sitting, I carefully peeled the bandage off, and took a closer look at my new configuration. It was still red and there was some swelling, but it had a distinct resemblance to a real pussy. Not that it would stand close examination, but anything I expected to do it should be ok.
I was reminded by my bladder what I was there for, so I got back to business. I tried to watch as I loosened the muscles that withheld the flow, and watched the pee start to dribble, and then gush out. It was not a coherent stream like I was used to. The folds of flesh were interfering, so I had a little mess to clean up down there when I finished. But, for now, it would do. I carefully dried off and reapplied the bandage, then went to scrounge some breakfast.
I dozed most of the day, snacking lightly when my tummy said it was time, and repeating the potty business a couple more times. That evening, I finally took the bandages off for good. I looked closely at my new arrangement. I felt around, and at first touch, it felt just about like Amy did down there. I probed carefully, wincing a few times as I found tender spots. I was relieved that I found no vaginal canal under the folds. I'd still held the irrational fear that Dr. Wells had gone all the way. I tried on panties, then tight jeans, then tight skirts, and admired the girlish configuration that was visible with no need for the gaff.
One thing this did was make me feel more feminine, and I was afraid that might shift the balance of my internal struggle.
With all the napping during the day, when I decided to bed down for the night, it took quite awhile to drift off.
Friday, Dec. 4
The only thing of note Friday was I got out of the apartment long enough to get my blood drawn for Dr. Myers. The rest of the day I rested, and cruised the internet. I felt like I had a tug of war going on inside. Part of me wished I had let Dr. Wells do the whole thing. It would resolve so much, and give me a measure of peace. That part also pointed out how female I looked now, and how nice it would be if that were real. A smaller, but vehemently vocal part insisted I should set course for manhood. It emphasized the tiny signs of progress from when Erin had triggered a response from my limp dick, and the response I myself had aroused in the shower in Colorado.
I was afraid I was getting close to taking the easy way out.
That evening I called Bill at the club, and asked if I still had a job. He asked when I could come back, and I told him Monday. He said yeah, the job was still mine, and I was to work Monday through Saturday of this coming week. I groaned at the long week, but assured him I would be there.
My mental wrangling kept me on edge, and made me feel exhausted.
Around seven there was a knock on the door, and I found Erin waiting there. I invited her in, and she gave me a huge hug.
"How are you, girl? How did it go?"
"Well, except that they scheduled me for full SRS, it went great!"
"No!" she covered her mouth in shock, looking at my crotch. "It's done? It's real? Oh my god, you lucky girl! This is great!" She hugged me and danced me around. Then she stopped and held me at arms length. "How do you feel about that?"
"They didn't really do it, but it was close!" So I told her the whole story. She was kind of disappointed it didn't really happen, but she tried to understand. From her point of view, that was the ultimate, almost the only, goal.
She blushed, "Um, could I, maybe, like, take a look?" She glanced up at my face. "Or not, if it would make you uncomfortable."
I smiled at her a little nervously. "Ok. Come on in the bedroom."
I turned on all the lights in the room, then stripped off my jeans and panties and sat on the edge of the bed. She knelt between my legs, and I couldn’t help being a little aroused having this attractive girl kneeling there. If I had been a man in this situation, I would have been in heaven.
She peered closely, then an outstretched finger drifted toward my tailored groin. Just before it touched, she stopped, seeming to realize what she was doing, and looked up at me, blushing. I just gave a little nod, and her finger finished the trip. It touched lightly, then when I didn't jerk away, became a little bolder in its exploration. When she brushed over where a woman's clit would be, a jolt of pleasure coursed up my body and escaped as a moan. Erin started back, looking at my face, then returned to her examination, now deliberately stroking the sensitive spot she had found. My moan was repeated, my eyes drifted shut, and I leaned back on my elbows on the bed. I felt warm breath on my exposed groin, and then the texture of the touch changed, more moist, slightly rough. I peeked down and saw Erin's tongue lightly stroking the spot she had found, and my excitement skyrocketed. Getting a little bolder when I didn't stop her, she probed lightly with her tongue, and swabbed the surrounding area. My breathing was getting heavier, and my hips rocked slightly in time to the rhythm Erin had set. The heat built in the pit of my tummy, and liquefied my insides. I reached one hand to tweak and pinch my nipple, and the heat mounted. Erin increased the urgency of her assault, and the heat turned to fire, then exploded through my body, making me collapse back on the bed. Erin giggled, and I managed to raise my head enough to see the big grin on her face.
"Well, it just shows that with the right partner, sex is still an option for you!"
I nodded. "Any ideas where I might find a right partner?"
She pursed her lips in mock concentration, and then nodded eagerly. "Yup! Me!"
"Come here, you!"
She crawled up beside me and we cuddled for a while. I whispered in her ear, "Stay the night?"
Her response was to bring her lips to mine and kiss me passionately, while her hand slipped up under my top, then my bra, and found a hard little nubbin to play with.
I stood and stripped off the top and bra, turned down the bed, forcing her off, then attacked her clothes till she was as naked as I. Once in bed, our hands roamed over each other, exploring the sensitive spots, and the ticklish ones. The ones that aroused, and the ones that didn't. I paused awhile, exploring her shrunken genitals. "Do you still get pleasure from these?" I asked.
"Yes, but less than I used to." I kissed her lips, then cheeks, eyes, chin, throat, chest, breasts. I had to stop there awhile and lavish attention on her lovely mounds. Her breathing was heavy before I decided to move southward. I delved into her cute tummy button, and nipped her flat belly, then tugged her pubic hair with my teeth. Finally I found the little guy hiding in the bush, and sucked it into my mouth. It didn’t stiffen like the other cocks I had pleasured, but Erin's breathing told me my effort wasn't wasted. One hand snaked upward to glom onto one of her boobs, and twist and stroke the nipple. Erin groaned between ragged breaths, and she rocked her hips in time with my sucking. Another minute, and her back arched, and she shuddered. A small amount of fluid leaked from the tip, tasting strange on my tongue. Different than the semen I had tasted. Different, not bad.
Erin collapsed back onto the bed, and went limp. I snuggled up to her, and gently stroked her body that was lightly coated with sweat. "Mmmm. That was nice!"
I nipped the side of her breast, and said "Any time, sweet lady."
We cuddled until we both drifted off.
Saturday, Dec. 5
I awoke to the smell of frying bacon and fresh coffee. As I stretched, Erin appeared in the bedroom door wearing one of my baby dolls and said, "Up you get, lazybones. Breakfast is about ready."
I purred, "I'd rather eat you!"
Erin disappeared instantly, and I wondered if I had offended her, but moments later she appeared at a full run, and dove onto the bed, nearly bouncing me out. Before I even knew she had moved, I felt her tongue on that magic spot in my groin, and saw her tiny dick dangling above my mouth. Well, if she's going to put it there, I might as well take advantage, right? I went to work on the shriveled organ, and the small sack adjacent. The testes within were tiny, the result of continued hormones. That might be me one of these days, I thought. Then I turned my full attention to pleasing Erin, and soon we each glimpsed heaven.
After a little rest, occupied by mutual stroking and kissing, Erin popped out of bed and dragged me after her. "Here!" she handed me the red baby doll. "Scoot into the bathroom, then put this on. Breakfast will be ready when you get out, so be quick!"
I scooted, and she was right. There was a plate of scrambled eggs with bacon, toast, and a mug of coffee at the table when I emerged. She joined me with a similar plate, and a big glass of juice. I actually felt like eating this morning, the first time in a long time. I couldn't eat all Erin had fixed though. It was way too much.
"I have to do some things at home today, so I have to leave soon. Can I come back later?"
I paused to think, just to yank her chain. "Well, maybe." I scratched my chin thoughtfully. "But only if you spend the night again." She sprang toward me, and somehow was sitting in my lap, kissing me deeply. When we broke, I said, "I take it that's a yes?" She nodded wildly, and hugged me.
Erin left, and I cleaned up from breakfast, and then changed into walking clothes. I figured if I could handle the bedroom Olympics, I ought to be able to walk. I only made it one lap around the park. I hadn't gotten any exercise this last week, and it was obvious in my exhaustion.
I showered, and cleaned up the apartment. One thing about this place, it took a lot less effort to clean up then the house had. Thoughts of the house reminded me of Amy, and that led to the thought that I had not only been willingly unfaithful to her again, but I was planning to be again tonight. That left a gaping hole in me somewhere, but I couldn't worry about that right now. I shoved that thought back into the dark recesses of my mind, and got on about the day.
I made a list, and ran off to the grocery store. I made a side trip first to a department store where I picked up another set of sheets, some towels, a bathroom scale, some wine glasses, and a few items I thought would make the apartment look homier. As an afterthought, I visited the sewing notions area and picked up a tape measure. At the market, I picked up some essentials, and then browsed, looking for something a little special I could fix for Erin tonight. I picked up a few bottles of wine as well.
When I finally got home it was after five, and Erin climbed out of her car when she saw me. She helped take my purchases into the apartment, and then cornered me in the kitchen to give me a big kiss.
"I'm glad you’re here."
That brought on another kiss, and a giggle.
I stuck the wine in a mixing bowl filled with ice to chill, and set about making chicken stir-fry, with wild rice to serve it over. Erin watched as I threw dinner together, staying out of my way when she saw I had things under control. She set the table, and when I indicated the food was ready, poured us each a glass of the chilled white wine.
I thought dinner turned out pretty good, and Erin seemed to enjoy it. But I think it was dessert we enjoyed most. That was served in the bedroom, and left us both sweaty and breathless. After we had recovered our breath, Erin dragged me into the bathroom, and we showered together. With the action in the shower, we would have emerged just as sweaty if the water hadn't sluiced it off as it formed.
We were both worn out by now, so we crawled in bed naked, and held each other while we slipped into dreamland.
Sunday, Dec. 6
I woke slowly; relishing the warm body snuggled against me. I had no disorientation this time. I knew before I roused that it was Erin. This was the best night's sleep I'd had, I think since that fateful date with Jerry so long ago.
Erin must have been awake already, because when she sensed my wakefulness, she flipped over and invaded my mouth with her tongue.
"Morning" I said breathlessly when our lips parted. But before the word was completely out of my mouth, she was on the move. Before I could get out of bed and to the bathroom, she was already out, and into the kitchen. I did the necessary, and slipped into a gauzy robe. Padding barefoot to the kitchen, I stopped at the sight I found. Erin was bustling around the kitchen stark naked, throwing breakfast together. I watched for a while, enjoying the energy, not to mention the view. She would glance over at me occasionally with a big grin on her face.
After we ate the light breakfast she'd made, we cleaned up, and she was off to the shower. I followed more slowly, and by the time I got there, she was drying off and urging me into the shower. I showered quickly. Well, it was a pretty quick for me, but long compared to Erin. I dried and hustled to the bedroom. Erin had a sport bag on the bed and was wearing an outfit I hadn't seen before. She must have come prepared.
"Well, don't just stand there, get ready!"
"Ready for what?"
"You'll see, just hurry!"
"Ok, but what do I wear?"
Erin invaded my closet on a mission. She exclaimed over the universally sexy clothes that were all she found. She finally came out with my one "conservative" outfit, the hunter green slacks and sweater, with the pale green blouse.
"I cannot believe your clothing selection. It looks like a hooker lives here." She stopped with a shocked expression, belatedly remembering that technically I was a prostitute, albeit only a single time. She waited for a reaction, and she was so cute in her shock that I forgot to take it personally.
"Nope, just a stripper!" I quipped back.
She giggled nervously, then broke into a grin and gave me a quick hug. "Here, wear this. It's pretty."
I dressed. Of course, the 'conservative look' was somewhat spoiled by the black five inch FMPs. But my shoe selection pretty much all fit in the overly sexy category. No conservative selections at all there.
She hustled me out the door, into her car, and tore out of the parking lot. Just before nine she pulled into a parking space of a small church, and urged me out. I looked bemusedly at the building. It had been a long time since I had been in one of these. Erin grabbed my hand, and pulled me inside, taking us to seats several rows back from the front. Erin's boundless energy seemed subdued in this environment, so I focused on what was happening, and listened to what was said.
Church let out at ten, and I followed Erin outdoors. A lot of people were standing around talking, and Erin seemed to know them all. She took me around and introduced me to seemingly dozens of people. And they all seemed fond of Erin. Who wouldn't, she was a real sweetheart. But too many people would not tolerate her if they knew what she was going through. I wondered if any of these people knew, and if they would treat her differently if they did.
Back at the apartment, I said quietly, "Erin, we need to talk."
She suddenly had an anxious look on her face. I saw the fear of rejection in her eyes, and mused that she had probably seen too much of that. I kissed her gently, and said, "It's ok, honey. I just need to understand." I guided her to the sofa and sat close with my arm around her.
"Why, Erin. Why are you here?"
"Don't you want me here?" she said in a small voice.
"Yes, I do. I like having you here very much, but I need to understand why. Is this that you think you are saving me from hurting myself?"
Her head jerked up. "No! There are lots of reasons, but that is not one of them. I need someone right now, and you have the love to share at the moment. You need someone too, and I have some love I can share. And someone has to show you that you deserve love, and you deserve Amy. And I think I can do that. Plus, you're a nice person, and you're fun to be around, and you're great in bed. And I can’t find many people willing to be in bed with me right now."
"Ok, ok!" I grinned. Then my expression turned serious. "You're a nice person, Erin. I seem to end up hurting the nice people around me. You would do well to stay away from me."
"Stop! You cut that out right now! You know that's not true. It's just that you've been badly injured emotionally, and you need time to heal. I want to be here to help. Please?"
I looked into her eyes, and relented. "You have to know, too. I still love Amy more than anything, and if I ever again feel worthy of her, and if she'll have me, that's where I'll be."
"I know. That's where you belong. And I won't stand in your way. I wasn't looking for anything long term when I went into this. But I must admit, I think it will hurt more than just a little when you leave me." She took a deep breath, "I think I'm falling for you, just a little."
"Yeah, me too." I looked into her eyes, and kissed her lightly. "Ok, next question. Why church? Or why take me there, maybe."
Erin thought for a minute. "After all the pain and turmoil I've gone through to this point, I am trying to make sense of it. To find the purpose. And God is the best source of answers I've found so far. And it's that particular church because they're not zealots, and they're tolerant of people with differences. And I wanted you to go because you need answers too, and I was offering you a possible source of those answers. If it doesn't work for you like it has for me, there's still no harm."
A tear started trickling down my cheek. "I thanked heaven every day for Amy when I was with her. Then I met Paul, and he is one of the best people on earth too, and helped me so much. Now you. What have I ever done to deserve such people in my life?" I hugged her tightly.
"So, you still want me around?"
"You bet! Anyone that can put up with me is worth her weight in gold!"
She swatted my arm, "You stop putting yourself down right this moment!" then crushed me to her and kissed me fervently. "Um, if I'm going to stay again tonight, it would be easier if I brought my clothes for work tomorrow instead of having to get back to my place in the morning."
"Well, what are you sitting there for, let's go!"
Erin was already moving, tugging me along behind her. She drove us to an apartment complex not far away. She led me to her apartment and unlocked the door, leading me inside. "Jackie, you home?"
A rather plain girl emerged from a bedroom wearing a terrycloth robe and toweling her damp hair.
"Jackie, this is Jamie. I told you about meeting her the other day?"
"Sure! Hi, Jamie!" She squeezed my hand, and then returned to drying her hair. I looked at her a bit more closely.
Erin saw the look. "Yes, Jamie, Jackie is like us. She is pre-op also. We met a couple years ago at Mikaela's, just when we were both starting on this path. We both were having problems where we were living, and ended up rooming together." Turning to Jackie, Erin said "We just stopped by to pick up some clothes for work tomorrow, so I don’t have to come back here in the morning."
Jackie grinned, "Oh, ho! So that's the way it is, huh?" Erin just grinned back. Then she looked at me. "Really? You were born a guy? It's hard to believe. I wish I could pass that well."
Erin giggled. "And get this, she works as a stripper over at the Lariat Club!"
Jackie's eyes grew round. "Really? That's not a TG place. How do you get away with it?"
Erin glanced at my crotch. "She hides it pretty well." Then she pulled me into another bedroom where she started collecting what she would need.
"Why not bring enough for a few nights. Then we have the option of extending your lease." I wiggled my eyebrows lasciviously.
Erin laughed at the corny expression. "Ok." She packed a bag with what she thought she might need, and I followed her back into the living room. Jackie emerged from the other room wearing a nice skirt and blouse that accented her figure, wearing tasteful makeup. I looked at her again, and thought how feminine she looked now. Before, if you knew, you could just see the male characteristics in her face. Now, even knowing, I couldn't tell.
"You look very nice, Jackie," I complemented.
"Thanks."
Erin bustled me out the door, and we were soon back at my place. As soon as we got in the door, she jumped me, and dragged me to bed. As we rested after, she asked, "Can I come watch you dance?"
I looked surprised. "Sure, if you want. But someone who looks as good as you will have to fight those horny guys off with a stick. You got any guy friends that could come with you for protection?"
"I am a guy, remember?"
I looked in her eyes and said quietly but emphatically, "No, you're not." That earned me a big hug, but I don’t know why I got a treat for telling the truth.
"Yeah, I can ask one of my friends from Mikaela's. Maybe several will come. Lots of them like to see transsexuals make it good in the real world. Can't get much more real than what you do."
"Erin, that's twice today you've referred to me as TS. I'm really not, you know."
Erin just smiled at me.
"Well, I'm not!" But it bothered me. Could she tell something I was missing?
Monday, Dec. 7
The week settled into a comfortable routine. Erin stayed every night, and most of those we enjoyed more than just closeness. She cooked breakfast, and then went off to work. I generally wasn't hungry for lunch, skipping it, or eating a yogurt. I had dinner ready when she got home, and we ate together before I headed to work.
Work was exhausting, but exciting. I quickly switched to the more revealing G-string Misti had first shown me, since the one I'd been using was extremely uncomfortable without the protection of the gaff. I wasn't tiring yet of teasing the guys in the audience with my sexy body modeled on Amy's. I was just thankful my face and hair left no doubt that I was emphatically not Amy. I could just imagine what would happen to her career if a rumor got out she was stripping in the evenings. I was getting better at putting routines together. I was also surprised at my increased confidence due to my modification last week. I spent less time practicing in the back room, and more time hustling drinks out front. That increased the tips, and the propositions. It was a rare evening that at least a couple of guys didn't try to purchase a little solace in my arms (or wherever). Most were easy to put off, occasionally they weren't.
Erin managed to find male friends to escort her both Monday and Tuesday to watch me dance. She was up there whistling and cheering at me right along with all the guys. It was a hoot having her there. I think all the guys enjoyed her being there too.
Having Erin in my life was doing wonders for my peace of mind. She was a booster, a lover, a friend, and a huge patch of sunshine in what had become a bleak world. As I became more at peace with myself I came to realize what it was I had thrown away with Amy. And I knew then what I had to do. So I was more than enthusiastic when Wednesday rolled around and it was time to visit Dr. Myers.
Wednesday, Dec. 9
I was feeling good, as I got ready to see the doctor. I had concluded that if at all possible, I needed to be James again. Losing Paul and Erin would hurt, if it came to that, but losing Amy would kill me in spirit if not in body. I was planning to go back to being male, but I looked female right now, and I was feeling better about that as well, and about myself. I made my face up carefully, and reveled in the miniskirt and cropped top I wore. The matching deep red lipstick and nail polish added flair.
I waited for Dr. Myers in his office. When he bustled in, I preempted his verbal barrage by getting started before he raised his eyes from the chart.
"Dr. Myers. I've come to a decision. If there is any way it can possibly happen, I plan to transition back to male. How do we approach that goal?"
He looked at me for a moment, like he was shocked someone could beat him to the punch. "Alrighty then. The chart is your friend this week. Lab results show a significant drop in estrogen levels, and a small but encouraging increase in free testosterone. It looks like the function of the testes is not completely destroyed. Only time will tell what, if any, damage has been done. The higher T level implies the anti-androgen has been significantly flushed from your system, lowering the possibility of further damage. I still don't think hormone therapy is a wise choice at this point. That is a last resort if we should find you can't produce enough on your own. So, I think we're still in wait and see mode, but if the trend continues, then I think the outlook is favorable. See me again in two weeks, and don't forget the blood draw beforehand." With that he swirled out of the office as if he was determined to wrest back the advantage.
That night, the dance routines came off pretty well, judging by the tips, but there was one guy in the audience that didn't seem to want to take no for an answer. I finally managed to get away from him, but it was a pain to be hassled like that.
Thursday, Dec. 10
Erin didn't make it to watch me again Thursday, but I knew she was home waiting for me, and that made the evening better, even if it seemed longer. The same guy from the prior night was there, and when I tried to explain I wasn't a hooker, and I wouldn't go with him no matter how much he offered, he got a little abusive, but the bouncer showed up, he calmed down, and I slipped away backstage. I didn't spend any more time with the customers that night, and asked the bouncer to walk me to my car when I left.
The little bit of heaven that is Erin made me forget about my spot of trouble. When I got home she was posed provocatively on the bed in one of the sheer baby dolls. Things only got better from there.
Friday, Dec. 11
The night at the club seemed fantastic, as the asshole that bugged me the last two nights never showed. I was flying high, and my dancing showed it. I circulated with the guys out front, and flirted outrageously, but no one got obnoxious. I did pretty well with tips both from the dancing, and from the guys in front. As good as the night went, I was glad when it was over. Erin was waiting at home, and I only had one more night to work before I got a night or two off. I was feeling good as I stuck around till closing, watching the last dancers from the lap of one friendly and generous guy or another, sipping simulated drinks and collecting tips.
I headed out of the club with purpose. I was ready to see Erin, and I was thinking maybe it was time to call Amy tomorrow. Finally. As I started to pull my car door open, a large arm reached past me pushing it closed again. I turned to see my tormenter from the prior nights standing way too close. I tried to back up, but the car was right there.
"Hi, babe. I've got a nice crisp Ben Franklin here that says you're gonna suck my dick tonight."
"I think not. I already told you, I'm not a hooker. I don't do sex for money."
"Aw, the bitch thinks she's too good for me." I saw a metallic flash from the corner of my eye, and felt a sharp prick under my chin. "Don't do anything foolish like screaming, girly. Cause it would be your last. Understand?"
I tried to nod, but that pressed the knifepoint into my flesh, so I whispered "Yes."
"Now, let's just walk nice and easy over here. Nothin funny, or this knife will slide real smooth right between these ribs." He was pushing me toward a dark pool of shadow between the back of the club and the next building, and I felt the point of the knife press into my back. I tried to force my limbs to move, but they were not cooperating. The creep had to almost carry me as I staggered forward.
When we got deep into the shadows he spun me around so the knife was pressed to my belly and mashed his lips against mine.
"Come on, baby. I like a little response when I kiss a chick." The knife nudged in a bit, and I felt some pain. This time when he mashed his lips to mine, I kissed back, trying not to gag.
"There, now, see. I knew you could do it." He stuffed something down my bra. "There's that bill I promised you, now lets have some action here." He forced me to my knees, sliding the knife up till the edge rested against my neck none too gently. "You behave yourself down there. I'd hate to have to permanently damage that pretty neck of yours. Now, pull my zipper down." I started to bring my hands up. "With your teeth, bitch!"
My hands dropped to my side, and I struggled to get the zipper tab in my teeth without slicing my throat. I finally managed to do it, and started drawing it down. It was hard to move, and it slipped from my teeth a couple of times before I got it all the way down.
"Good, now reach inside real gentle like and make nice with my big cock, ok sweetie?"
I followed his orders, and soon I was staring at a not overly large veined phallus. I gently stroked it with my hands as the knife remained at my throat.
"Ok, that's good, baby. Now suck it way down deep in your throat. Come on now, you can do it."
I managed to get my seemingly frozen jaw to open, and soon he was sliding inside. Fortunately he was not big, so when it hit the back of my throat, it was about all the way in. He shoved it the rest of the way, and I gagged, and reflexively tried to spit it out.
"Tut, tut. None of that, girly. Just keep working on me with that wonderful cocksuckin' mouth of yours."
I recovered somehow, and started moving back and forth; taking him deep, then out almost all the way. I was able to relax a little, and got my tongue into the game, hoping to get this over as soon as possible. My attacker groaned in ecstasy.
"That's perfect baby. See, I knew you was a pro. Only a pro can do it that good. Oh, yeah, babe. Keep it up."
A few more moments, and thankfully he stiffened and started pumping his sour cum into my throat. I gagged again, and coughed, and semen spattered out around his cock. Then it was over, and he slipped out of my mouth as he rapidly shrank.
"Ok, slut, now lick me clean and zip me up! Careful now." I did as he said, finally pulling the resisting zipper back into place.
Suddenly he grabbed my hair and yanked my head back till my face pointed up toward him, then he snarled, "You thought you were too good for me, bitch. Now we'll see who's too good for who."
I felt a jolt that shook my whole body, and was suffused with a blinding pain that spread from my belly to sear every fiber of my being. He released my hair, and I looked down to see him pulling a blood soaked knife from my abdomen. Unbelievable pain filled me, and I slowly toppled backward till I lay on my back with my legs awkwardly under me. As I gazed up at the beautiful star-speckled sky between the buildings, I thought 'So this is the way it ends. I'm sorry, Amy. I'm so, so, sorry.'
The stars started to fade one by one till everything was black.
To be concluded in Trick or Treat 3
Trick or Treat 3
By: Enigma
Jamie was stabbed and left for dead behind the club where she worked as a stripper. Sometimes things just don't work out the way we planned or hoped...
Author’s note: For new readers, you really need to read the first two parts of Trick or Treat. This segment does not stand on its own at all well. For those of you who read and commented on the original two parts, I really need to apologize for this taking so long to publish. What you see below was actually finished just a few months after part 2 was posted. It did not come out the way I had originally intended. That, and some pointed comments by my editor, caused me to try rewriting it not once, but twice before giving up and letting it lie fallow for a (long) time. In addition, life has conspired to limit the time I can spend writing, and in suppressing the creative urge that let the words of the first two parts flow so easily from my mind to the screen. Thank-you to all who have read my little saga, and especially to those who have posted comments.
*****
Saturday, Dec. 12
Erin looked at the clock yet again. Jamie should have been home a half hour ago. Something was wrong, she could feel it. Taking her cell phone, she called the Lariat Club, where Jamie worked as a stripper. The club should have closed an hour ago, and Jamie should be home by now.
"Hello?" said the voice from the phone.
"Yes, is this the Lariat Club?"
"Yes it is. This is the manager. Can I help you?"
"I sure hope so. I'm a friend of Jamie, um your dancer called Dawn. I am waiting at her apartment, and she should have been here a half hour ago. Is she still there?"
"Um, no, I'm pretty sure she left just after closing."
"Oh. Well, could you check the parking lot for her car? Please. I'm really worried about her."
"Ok, hold on a minute." Bill set the phone down and let himself out the door into the parking lot. He mused softly, "Yep, there's Jamie's car. I wonder where she's got to." He looked around, and then thought he saw a spot of color in the inky darkness at the back of the building. Hurrying in that direction, he found a motionless body sprawled awkwardly on the ground. He knelt beside it and felt more than saw the blood that dribbled from a wound in the abdomen. "Oh my God!" He bent close to try to make out the face. "Jamie!" He grabbed his cell phone and dialed 911. Within 10 minutes paramedics were on the scene.
Erin fidgeted as she waited impatiently for the man to return to the phone. When she heard the siren, she got a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. She silently cursed him for leaving her hanging.
"She's still alive, but just barely," the first paramedic said. For 5 minutes they fought to stabilize their victim, and then loaded her on a gurney and into the waiting ambulance. "We're taking her to Sacred Heart Hospital. I hope she makes it that far." With that, the ambulance sped away to the sound of a wailing siren and squealing tires.
Erin heard the siren again through the phone. "Oh, noooo!" she moaned.
As he headed back into the bar, Bill finally remembered the caller and rushed back inside to the waiting phone. "Hello, are you still there?"
"Oh, thank god you're back," Erin sighed.
"Um, who did you say this is?"
"Oh, my name is Erin. I'm a friend of Jamie's. I'm staying with her right now. Did you find her? Please, tell me she's OK!"
"Uh, Erin, is it? Yeah, I found her. She's been stabbed. She was on the ground behind the club. They're not sure she's gonna make it. The ambulance just took her away. They're taking her to Sacred Heart."
Erin stood dumbly, shock flowing like ice water through her veins.
"Hello, are you there Erin?"
Erin struggled to pull herself together. "Um, yeah, I'm still here. Listen, thanks, I've gotta go to her. Thanks. Bye."
Disbelief held Erin motionless for a few moments. She wondered what to do next. She had to get to the hospital, but what else! Her brain was sluggish with shock, and nearly incapable of coherent thought. She had to tell someone, but she couldn’t think who. Wife! Jamie has a wife. What's her name? Amy, that's it, Amy! Last name? What's her last name, damn it? Jamie ... Jamie ... Hastings. That's it! Hastings. I sure hope there's a listing for James or Amy Hastings. She dialed 411, and the operator thankfully found the number and offered to connect her. She listened nervously as the phone ring.
"Hello?" said a very sleepy voice.
"Hello, is this Amy Hastings?"
"Yes. Who is this, and why are you calling at this time of night?" Amy replied with a touch of heat.
"Are you the wife of James Hastings?"
"You know James? Who is this? Where are you? Where is he?"
"Amy, my name is Erin. I'm a friend of Jamie's. I'm afraid Jamie's been hurt, Mrs. Hastings. Hurt very badly."
"God, no, please. Erin, please! Where is he? Tell me what you know!"
"Jamie was apparently attacked when she came out of work about an hour and a half ago They didn't find her until I called to see why she hadn't come home. The manager answered my call, then found her car in the lot, and looked around till he found her unconscious and bleeding behind the building. She's been taken to Sacred Heart. I'm on my way there now."
Amy had sobbed silently through the entire explanation. "That's clear across town from here. I'll be there as soon as possible." Amy hung up and immediately dialed an all too familiar number. She heard Paul's groggy voice answer after several rings.
"Hello?"
"Paul! Jamie's at Sacred Heart hospital. Can you come?"
"Amy? What happened?"
"I don't know the details, Paul. I have to go now. I hope to see you there!"
*****
Erin huddled in a hard plastic chair in the emergency room, waiting for word of Jamie. She knew from the reception desk that Jamie was here. She knew from the club manager that it was bad. But the damn hospital wouldn't tell her anything!
Amy burst into the emergency room. It had taken her over an hour to get here. She moved quickly to the desk to speak with the duty the nurse. "Can you tell me, please; is there a James Hastings here? Or maybe Jamie Hastings?"
"And who might you be?" asked the dour nurse behind the desk.
"Amy Hastings. I'm his wife."
"I'm sorry; we don't have a man named James or Jamie Hastings here."
Erin overheard and approached hesitantly. "Amy?"
Amy swung around at the sound of her name.
"Amy, I'm Erin. I called you a while ago."
"Erin, is he here? Is he going to be OK?"
Erin immediately picked up on Amy’s denial, knowing how hard it was for her to think of her husband in female terms. It was obvious that if Jamie remained female it would take a terrible toll on his wife. "Yes, Amy. Jamie's here, but they won't tell me anything else."
Swinging back to the desk, Amy said, "Why did you tell me James wasn't here? Can you tell me how he is? Do you know anything? Please, tell me."
"I told you there isn't a man named James or Jamie Hastings here. There is a girl by that name, so you can't possibly be her wife."
Erin broke in. "Jamie is a transsexual in transition. She was born a man, and is still legally married to this woman. Please tell her what you know."
Amy felt a chill hearing Erin's explanation, but straightened and flashed a grateful smile at the girl before turning back to the desk. The nurse did not look pleased. "Yes... Ok. The... patient was brought in over an hour ago, and taken immediately to surgery. We've had no update yet. Now, if you don't mind, I've got work to do."
*****
Paul hurried into the emergency room, and was headed toward a nurse behind the desk when he heard his name called from behind him. He turned to see Amy's tear-streaked face as she huddled on one of the hard waiting room seats. Moving toward her, he noticed an attractive redheaded young woman sitting next to her.
When he approached, he spoke up, "Amy? Is she here? Have you heard anything? How is she? What happened?" By this time, he was seated beside her, pulling her into his arms.
Amy sobbed, "No, Paul. They won’t tell us anything yet. He is still in surgery as far as we know. And I don't know what happened." Amy looked questioningly at Erin.
Erin nervously cleared her throat, "Hi, Paul. I'm Erin. I'm a friend of Jamie's. I've heard a lot about you." She looked uncomfortably at these two strangers. "About you both. Um, I know a little more about what happened, but not much."
"Tell us what you know, please!"
"Um, OK. I was waiting for Jamie at her apartment this morning, um, waiting for her to return from work. She hadn't shown up by two, so I was getting worried. I called and fortunately, the manager was still there. He told me he thought Jamie had left about an hour before. I asked him to check the lot for her car, and then waited forever for him to return. While I waited, I heard a siren coming near the phone, then stop. Maybe 15 minutes later, it started again, moving away. I knew something was wrong. I just knew it! The manager finally came back on the line and told me Jamie had been stabbed..." Amy moaned in pain, "and that he had found her lying behind the building on the ground. That's really all I know. I got here as quick as I could, but they haven't told me anything, other than that she is here." Erin sagged weakly back in her seat.
Amy took a deep breath, pulled away from Paul, and marched purposefully to the desk. "Excuse me!" she said, her voice stern with authority, "I am a doctor, and Jamie Hastings' nearest relative. Would you please let her doctor know that I am here, and that I would appreciate talking to him as soon as possible?"
The nurse looked none too pleased, probably still unhappy over the disclosure of Jamie's transsexuallity, but she knew her job. "Yes, doctor, I'll pass on the message." As Amy returned to Paul, the nurse lifted a phone and placed a quiet call.
While Amy was gone, Paul focused on the young woman, Erin. "How is it you know Jamie, Erin?"
"Um, I met her briefly over a month ago. We have since become good friends, and I have been staying with her the last week or so."
Amy had returned in time to hear the end of the explanation, so she asked "How did you meet?"
Erin blushed, "We met at a bar, and talked for a couple of hours. I liked her right off, but then I didn't see her again for a few weeks. I was kind of surprised to see her back in the same bar. We talked again, and I liked her even more. We've spent a lot of time together since then."
Amy mused, "Over a month ago? That was before James left. Then the second time would have been after he left. But it's not like James to go to bars. At least, it wasn't like him. I don't really know who he is right now, or what he does."
Erin's blush deepened, and Paul noticed. "Do you know why Jamie was in the bar when you met?"
Erin squeaked a tiny "Yeah."
"Why? Please, tell us why," insisted Amy.
"She came into Mikaela's that first time looking for information." Erin looked from one to the other of these people that were so important to Jamie. She took a deep breath. "She wanted to know about transsexuals. That's the kind of place Mikaela's is..." She looked away as she finished quietly, "That's why the bartender hooked her up with me."
Amy sucked in a startled breath, and Paul studied Erin with a surprised look on his face. "Are you...? Oh, I'm sorry. It's really none of my business." Paul looked down guiltily.
"No, that's OK. Jamie knows, and you have a right to as well." She squared her shoulders and look defiantly at them. "I am a transsexual. I am pre-operative, waiting anxiously for the operation that will make me whole. Jamie needed to know, needed to learn. In case... um, in case she couldn't go back."
Amy looked to be in pain, "You know?" Erin nodded meekly. "Everything?"
Erin said quietly, "A lot. Maybe not everything. We’ve talked a lot these past few weeks"
Amy and Paul were quiet for a few moments. Finally Amy broke the silence, "You say you've been with him a lot these last few weeks. I've..." She glanced at Paul, "We've been going out of our minds since he left. Can you tell us about his life, er, what he's been doing since he ran away?
Erin huddled into herself. "I'm not sure I should. I think maybe Jamie should do that."
Amy pleaded, "Please, Erin. We have to know how he got here, why he is fighting for his life." Tears were dripping down Amy's face, and Paul looked like he was struggling hard to retain his own composure.
Erin saw the pain in their eyes. "Alright." She paused to gather her thoughts. "Jamie came back to Mikaela's, um, two weeks ago tonight I think. She wanted to learn more about what she might be facing. I saw her and spent the evening with her. The first time I'd met her, she had promised to tell me her story, so that night I talked her into meeting me for lunch the next day. We had lunch, then went back to her apartment and talked all afternoon. Her story was so amazing, and she was hurting so much, and so confused. By evening, I knew I couldn't leave her alone, in the condition she was in after telling her story, so I invited myself to stay the night. I stayed with her the next day as well."
Erin paused, as if to draw strength out of the air. "The next morning, I talked her into calling you, Amy." Amy gasped. "Then I left for work, and Jamie left for Colorado."
"Colorado?" Paul queried.
"Um, yeah. She was seeing a doctor for an operation up there."
Amy let out a startled screech, and Paul demanded, "Did she... Um, is she...?" He couldn't finish.
"No! It was a minor procedure to make her genitals temporarily look more feminine. She was worried about her job... about being discovered."
Amy breathed a sigh of relief, and then latched onto the last comment, "Her job?" Then somewhat wistfully, "I didn't even know James had a job. But why would he be worried about being read. His appearance as a female was remarkable. There is no way anyone would have suspected!"
"Um, well... She worked in a bar over on Third, not far from here. There were a lot of guys there, and she was nervous."
"He was a cocktail waitress?" Amy exclaimed in surprise.
Erin looked down, wanting to be anywhere but here. "No."
"Oh," Amy said with relief.
Paul took up the pursuit, "What did she do that she was so worried about, then."
"She danced." Erin spoke at just above a whisper.
Amy asked, "Danced? I don't understand."
Erin sighed. "It's a strip club."
Amy exclaimed loudly in surprise, "He was stripping?" then quickly looked around to see several heads turned in her direction. She blushed. Erin just nodded.
"Oh. My. God!" Amy whispered. Paul just looked as if he was going to be ill.
Erin rushed on to get past that, "Anyway, she was in Colorado for 3 days. I came to visit her when she got back, and ended up staying with her until tonight. The next week, this past Monday, she went back to work. Since she returned from Colorado, she has been getting more cheerful, less depressed. We talked a lot. She was coming to understand that what happened before wasn't her fault. She was finally forgiving herself, or maybe realizing there was nothing to forgive. Then this happened." Erin heaved a sigh. "I think she might have been ready to call you, Amy, in the next few days."
A couple of tears trickled down Erin's cheek. "She never stopped loving you, Amy." She looked at Paul a moment. "Or you, either, Paul." Erin wasn't sure how to continue. "She ran because she thought that was best for you two. She ran even though it tore her heart out. She loved you too much to continue hurting you." Erin hid her face in her hands and wept for Jamie's pain... and for her own.
Amy pulled Erin close, and stroked her head, murmuring to her, "Thank you. Thank you for being there for him, Erin. I could not have survived losing him forever. Thank you so much!"
After a while, Erin pulled back and gave Amy a watery smile. Amy looked at her closely. "There's more, isn't there?" She searched Erin's eyes, and then nodded her head with just a tiny smile. "He has that effect, doesn't he?" Erin gave a tiny nod, and looked as if the effort to hold the smile was costing her dearly.
"Huh? Did I miss something?" Paul asked.
Amy shook her head sadly, as if to say "Men!" She leaned close to him and whispered in his ear, "She loves Jamie, too!"
Paul looked confused, then smiled sadly and nodded.
Amy saw a tired doctor push through the swinging doors from the treatment area. She sat forward, and watched him hold a quiet conference with the nurse at the desk, who pointed toward Amy. The doctor straightened, and walked wearily toward the small group of people.
"Are you here for Ms. Hastings?"
"Yes, I'm his wife." Amy said.
The doctor looked distinctly uncomfortable with that revelation. "I, um, I'm Dr. Pearson. I've been working on Ms. Hastings for the last several hours. We almost lost her a couple of times. She is in recovery right now. It won't do any good to see her for several hours yet, she is heavily sedated."
"Dr. Pearson, I'm a doctor also. Can you tell me about his injuries and prognosis?"
Dr. Pearson wearily pulled himself up. "There was a single stab wound to the abdomen, just below the lower rib, slightly to the right of center. Fortunately, it missed the heart. It also missed her lung. However, it did damage her intestinal tract. We had to repair several severe lacerations in her stomach and remove a section of her intestines. Infection is the greatest danger now. She is on a course of very strong antibiotics right now. The next 24 hours are critical. If she survives that, she should make it."
Erin asked timidly, "Will there be noticeable scarring?" Amy and Paul looked at her shocked, wondering why that question. Erin whimpered, "Well, her job!"
"Um, that's the least of her worries right now, but no. There will be scarring, but it won't be too bad." He got a very uncomfortable look on his face. "Um, as we examined her when she came in, we found traces of semen around her mouth, and this in her bra." He held out a $100 bill, which everyone just looked at in stunned silence. He leaned forward to place it in Amy's unmoving hands. "And the paramedics brought this in with her." He handed a purse to Amy, and retreated quickly.
Amy unconsciously opened the purse to tuck the bill inside, but encountered a large wad of small bills, mostly ones and fives. She gasped, drawing Erin's attention. "Oh, those are just her tips from dancing last night."
"Tips?" Then in a whisper, "for stripping?"
Erin nodded. Amy looked a bit green around the gills. She was suddenly furious. "How could he be doing that?" she hissed. "How could you let him do that?"
Erin was cringing away from the sudden verbal assault, but Paul pulled Amy back and held her. "Shhh. Don't blame Erin. Jamie is an adult. It was her decision. Maybe, if we're lucky, we will even come to understand the reason some day."
Amy looked abashed. She stammered, "I'm sorry, Erin. I know it's not your fault, I am just so angry that I lost it for a moment. Please forgive me?"
Erin nodded meakly, but kept her distance.
*****
I seemed to be floating in a void that was slowly fading black to gray. There was no pain, very little feeling at all. Gradually I became aware of a steady beeping noise, but it made no sense to me. I struggled to open my eyes, and after some success, I gurgled and closed them again quickly as the light stabbed into my retina.
I felt a sudden pressure on my hand, and a new sound. "Jamie? James?" I know that voice. The voice of an angel. The voice of my angel. My Amy. My wife. My life!
Memory started to return, and with it pain, not physical, but emotional, and another moan escaped my lips.
"James, can you hear me?"
I try to answer, but the only sound is a groan.
"Oh, thank God. James, it's me, Amy. I'm here. I love you!"
Again, I try to answer, but the effort is too much, and the velvety blackness enfolds me once again.
*****
Paul and Erin kept the vigil in the waiting area while Amy sat with Jamie in her room. Both were near exhaustion, nerves ragged.
Paul nervously cleared his throat. "Erin? About the sem..., uh, the..., damn this is so hard. The money in her bra and the, uh, you know... around her mouth? Is that what Jamie has been doing?"
Erin sighed tiredly. "No, Paul. She wasn't a hooker. Um, other than once..." Paul jerked his head as if slapped. "No! She didn't do that. She did say that every night there were at least one or two guys that assumed if they were strippers then they were whores too. There were always offers. And Jamie always turned them down." Erin sagged wearily. "I'm guessing one of those guys wouldn't take no for an answer, and grabbed her as she left the club."
Paul rose and excused himself; hurrying outside to suck some of the chilled desert air into his lungs and let it sweep away some of the anguish that threatened to suffocate him. After a time, he returned to find Erin huddled in the same chair with her head in her hands. Paul quietly sat in an adjacent seat.
"Um, Erin? You said once... What did you mean?"
Erin struggled to find the right words. "Jamie told me about it. The dancers had to mingle with the crowd between dances, encourage them to buy drinks. Normally if the girls drink, they drink tea. One night, this guy wanted to buy her a drink, but gave her a glass already on his table, real whiskey. After each dance, he did the same thing. By the end of the evening, she was pretty smashed. The guy talked her into going home with him, which she'd never done before. When he drove her back to her car in the morning, he stuffed something into her bra and thanked her for a great night. The something turned out to be $500."
Paul seemed to deflate, asking wearily, "How many others? How many other guys did she sleep with?"
Erin said wearily "Only one other that I know of," then in a tiny voice, "besides me."
That was too much for Paul. It seemed as if a significant part of his world was crumbling around his ears. The woman he'd been falling in love with had been replaced by... by what? A stripper? A whore? He stood quickly. "I'm sorry. I can't take any more of this right now. I have to get out of here. Tell Amy I'll be back later."
"Paul, wait! Listen!" Paul glared down at the cute redhead. "Jamie has been going through hell. Just sit and listen to me for a few minutes, OK?"
Paul sank back into the chair, looking with quiet resignation at Erin.
"Jamie had managed to convince herself that the time with that doctor, um, Jerry, and then again at the Halloween party had to be her fault. That she had to have caused it. How else could it have happened twice? That was what she reasoned, so she came to think of herself as nothing but a tramp. A tease. She was crucifying herself for that, and she was hurting so bad from running away from you and Amy. She wasn't thinking right. She seemed to think that if she was a slut she should be acting like one. That led to the times with those two men. Really, she was punishing herself for her failures."
Erin checked Paul's face for reaction, and saw guilt, shock, pain.
"With me, it was different. It started innocently. I liked Jamie. She was nice. She befriended me when so few others would. And she needed a friend desperately. I had very personal reasons for convincing Jamie to let me examine her after the surgery. I wanted to have what she had. I looked, and then probed with my fingers. In one spot, the probing must have felt really good, and she sagged back on the bed and sighed with pleasure. Impulsively, I stuck out my tongue and brushed it across the same spot. Jamie moaned. It just kind of happened after that. It was a caring, healing time for both of us. Being a transsexual is frequently like living a nightmare, and it felt so good to be accepted. I needed it so badly, and Jamie needed the caring just as much!"
Erin drew a deep breath. "I'll admit it. I was selfish. I didn't want to lose the caring that came with being around Jamie. And as I found later, I was falling in love with her." She paused for a while. "But I also saw it as a chance to help Jamie heal. I knew if I was very, very lucky, if I was good enough, if I could help Jamie save herself, then I could give her the ultimate healing: I could get her to go back to Amy. And you." A tear trickled down Erin's cheek. "I knew it would hurt to give her up, but I also knew that was what she needed. And I had to help her do it. When she spoke of you, and Amy, there was an unconscious glow to her, and a terrible pain. It was obvious how much she loved, and how much she hurt."
Erin sighed, looking down. "So I took what I could for myself, and I tried to help Jamie. And it was working, I think. I'm not sure when she might have come home, but I know she was nearly ready to start talking about it. Nearly ready to see if there was anything left to return to."
*****
Awareness drifted over me like a fog, leaving impressions of my surroundings, yet nothing clear. Again I struggled to raise my eyelids, and this time the light was muted. After the effort to open my eyes, I rested, trying to make out some detail. White. White everywhere. Then that sound again. A rhythmic beeping, very regular. I could not feel much, and very little of my body seemed to respond to my commands. Was I paralyzed? Had I been in an accident? I wasn't hurting, but then I wasn't feeling much of anything. I remembered pain, though. What pain? I concentrated on that, and slowly it came back. The incredible, searing pain in my abdomen... The bloody knife as it slid slowly out... The hand that held it... The man standing above me... What he made me do... I gasped, and started sobbing.
Now there was another sound. Through the fog and misery it was faint, but comforting. I focused on that sound, trying to penetrate the fog that muffled it. Slowly it came clearer.
"Jamie. James, can you hear me? Sweetheart, come back to me. I love you. I need you. Please come back to me. Hold on, Jamie. You can do it." The angelic voice continued to soothe, feeling like a balm on the anguish.
The fog cleared a little more, and the beautiful face that went with the voice swam into view. Amy! But I'd lost her. I didn’t understand. She said she loved me! How could it be possible? I struggled to speak, but all I heard was a strangled sound.
"Shhh. I'm here, my love. It will be all right. You hang on, and we'll be ok." The soothing voice was like a lover's caress, and I calmed, then slid into darkness once more.
*****
Paul was torn. This supposed friend of Jamie's had told an incredible tale. This was not the Jamie he knew! She would never have done the things Erin described. But then, what Jamie had become after Halloween wasn't the woman he knew either. Who knew what this new person was capable of? He mourned the loss of the Jamie he'd fallen in love with. He was wondering what the chances were that that woman would ever exist again.
Hearing a noise, he looked up to see a weary Amy dragging toward them. Her face was tear-stained, and she looked ready to collapse.
"James came around for a few moments. He is still heavily sedated, so he couldn't talk, but he opened his eyes for a few minutes before going back to sleep." Amy sagged into a chair. "I had to take a break for a while."
Paul looked at her. "Amy, you've got to get some rest. You've been here almost 20 hours already with no sleep, almost nothing to eat. You can't do Jamie any good if you collapse."
"I know, but it's so far to go home. What if something happened? I couldn't get back in time. Besides, I'm not sure I could make it that far. I certainly wouldn't trust my driving right now."
Erin hesitated before saying, "Jamie's apartment is only about a mile from here. We could take turns staying with Jamie, and resting there. There's food there, and a shower, and, of course, a bed. If you want, I can show you where it is while Paul sits with Jamie for a while."
Paul wasn't sure he could stand to see Jamie right now, after what he'd heard, but he knew Amy had to rest. "That sounds like a plan. Neither of you is in any shape to drive. I'll call a cab to take you over there. After we each get a little rest, we can use our own cars again."
Amy didn't want to leave, but knew she had nothing left to give James right now. "Alright."
Paul asked the nurse on the desk if she could call for a cab. Fortunately it was a different nurse than the night before. With real dread, he walked to Jamie's room, to see her for the first time since she ran away.
*****
This time, coming awake was easier. I felt less drugged. The dull throbbing ache in my gut was almost welcome after the near absence of feeling I'd been enduring. I could even move a little. I turned my head toward the intermittent rumbling noise I heard, and saw a figure slumped, asleep in the chair.
There was a call button by my left hand, and I fumbled with it till I could press it. The effort was almost too much. An interminable time later, a nurse entered the room and came quietly to my bedside.
"Water" I tried to say, but I don't think that's what came out. She seemed to understand and lifted a plastic cup with a straw from the table, holding the straw to my lips. I couldn't suck anything through the straw, so she used it to dribble a bit of water into my mouth. The cool liquid soothed my parched throat. "More" actually may have sounded like a word. After several small drabs of water, I was feeling slightly more human. "Thank you." I think she actually understood that, though it sounded very slurred to me.
"How bad?" Formulating any coherent question was beyond me, so I kept it really simple.
The nurse leaned down by my ear and spoke softly and slowly. "You were stabbed just below your ribcage. It missed everything vital, but the damage was pretty bad. You lost a lot of blood. If we can avoid infection for the next day or so, you should be OK."
"Thank you." I rested a moment, and then my finger flicked toward the sleeping figure. "Who?"
She answered, "I'm not really sure. I think I heard that his name is Paul."
That woke a pain deep inside that was not physical, and I closed my eyes. "Thank you."
"The doctor should be in to see you again before long." Then she quietly slipped out the door.
*****
Amy and Erin had survived the quiet ride in the cab. They climbed out into the late evening darkness in front of a slightly run down apartment building that Erin had directed the driver to. She pulled out the key Jamie had given her, unlocked the door, and then let Amy enter first.
Amy looked around at James' new home. It was tidy, and had the typical apartment look she remembered so well from her time in medical school. There were very few decorations, but she suspected James had only intended to stay a short while. She saw a picture frame on the nightstand, picked it up, and tried very hard not to cry as she saw the picture of James with her at a park. She thought wistfully of how happy they had been then.
Erin offered, "I've gotten a little more rest than you at the hospital, so if you want to take a shower, I'll see if I can find something to eat, then you can get some real sleep."
Amy smiled her thanks, and then looked around till she found the door to the bathroom.
When she emerged, she wore only a robe she had found hanging on a hook. She assumed it was James'. As she toweled her hair dry she said, "Ah, that feels better."
Erin was just setting two plates with scrambled eggs and toast on the table, beside two glasses of orange juice.
"I didn't want to get too elaborate. I hope this is OK."
"It looks wonderful. Thank you so much." Amy paused. "And not just for the food. If not for you, I might have lost James for good."
Erin looked nervous and quickly sat at her place. Amy joined her. Amy studied the redhead as she ate the eggs and toast. "You and Jamie are lovers, aren't you?" she asked quietly.
Erin cringed, not sure what Amy's reaction would be to 'the other woman.' She was afraid to speak, so she just nodded, keeping her eyes on her plate.
Amy spoke quietly again, "I'm glad Jamie had you in his life. After all the pain he's been through, he deserved some comfort, some love."
Erin couldn't believe that a wife would speak so to her husband's lover, and looked questioningly at her. "You aren't upset?"
Amy looked down at her hands. "Yes... Not because James slept with you, but because he was put in the position that allowed it to happen. Where it needed to happen. I love James so much, but all that love couldn't heal the wounds I helped to inflict, nor could it keep him from running away and almost destroying himself." She looked up at Erin with tears in her eyes. "With all my love, I couldn't save him. I'm glad you were there to at least try." Amy quietly rose and put her plate in the kitchen sink, then crossed to the bed. She looked back at Erin. "Do you mind sharing the bed? It doesn't make sense for one of us to suffer sleeping in a chair."
Erin nodded quietly.
*****
I woke with a dull pain to find a doctor checking the wound under a bandage. There was a sound off to the side, and I saw Paul opening tired eyes, then jerking awake.
"Is everything OK?" he asked.
The doctor glanced back at him. "Yes, as good as can be expected. No signs of infection so far and all the vitals look good."
Paul rose and came to the bed, looking down at me, at my barely familiar face. I looked away. He must know I was Jamie, but he had seen so little of me since the disastrous Halloween party, and the changes I had made to my appearance.
The doctor spoke again. "A policeman was here to see if you could give a statement. I told him you were too weak, and too drugged, at this point." I nodded weakly.
"Hi, Jamie."
My eyes flickered to Paul, then away, and I whispered "Hi." How could I face him after the things I had done. Unfortunately, the doctor chose that time to leave, and I was alone with Paul. I was so ashamed. "How did you find me?"
"Erin called Amy last night, and Amy called me. She was here all day long, and just left a little while ago to get some rest."
I groaned, "Oh, God. Amy's seen me too?" Paul nodded. "Do you know what happened?"
Paul looked uncomfortable. "A little. Erin told us what she knew."
There were too many questions. How was I alive? Obviously someone found me, and somehow I got to the hospital. How did Erin know what happened? How did Erin know how to contact Amy? How much had she told them? Did they know everything? My job? The men? The sex? I started sobbing, and what came out of my mouth was "I saw that bloody knife come out of me, and I thought I was dead." I felt Paul's arms close gently around me. "I wish I was dead!"
Paul gasped. "No!" then in a quieter voice, "No, don't ever say that. Do you have any idea what that would do to Amy? There are too many people in this world that love you. Can't you see that?"
I moaned "How can she love me after what I've done? I've screwed up everything. I cheated on her. With other men, for God's sake! How can she possibly love what I have become?"
"Shhh. She just does. You are a part of her, and no matter what, you always will be. What is it you've become that she can't love you?"
I was almost afraid to answer, but I had to make Paul see why they had to stay away. So I summoned what courage I had and spat "A tramp! A slut!" I was trying to shock him into understanding. "A queer. A stripper. A cocksucker! A whore!" I struggled in Paul's embrace, trying to push him away.
"Jamie, stop. Stop!" I quit moving. "Amy knows about all that, and she still loves you. She just hopes you'll forgive her enough to start loving her again. That's all she wants."
I pulled back and looked into his eyes. "God, Paul. How can she believe I don't love her?"
He answered softly, "Maybe because of all the terrible things that have happened to you that she feels responsible for? Maybe because you left her? Maybe because for the two weeks before you left you would hardly touch her, would hardly kiss her, would hardly even talk to her? What else was she to think?"
My whole body was shaking with sobs. "Oh Paul. It's not true. I love her so much, but I thought I had destroyed her love for me. That's why I had to get away. Can't you see that?"
He gently pulled me close again. "It'll be ok, Jamie. She never stopped loving you. And if you still love her, you have to tell her. You can't keep her hurting like she is now."
My sobbing slowly faded, leaving me exhausted. I drifted into sleep still wrapped in Paul's comforting embrace.
*****
Sunday, Dec. 13
Amy slowly came awake; aware of a soft warm body snuggled against her. She was disoriented at first. This wasn't home, and that didn't feel like James. No, that's not right. Jamie. Memory slowly seeped through her sleep-fogged brain. No, Jamie is in the hospital. So who? Someone. That's right, Jamie's friend. Erin. The thought gave Amy a stab of discomfort, but the warmth of the contact was too nice to abandon just yet, so she lingered in bed a bit longer.
The pressure in her bladder didn't let her stay long, and soon she slid gently away from the warmth and padded off in search of the bathroom. When she emerged, Erin was just blinking into wakefulness.
"Morning," she mumbled.
"Morning, Erin. I'm going to get a bite to eat, and go back to the hospital. Do you want to come along to get back to your car?"
Erin nodded, and stumbled into the bathroom. When she emerged, Amy was already dressed, and eating a bowl of cereal. She had several cereal boxes, and the milk and juice out on the counter. The coffee was brewing in the coffeemaker behind her.
"This OK for breakfast?"
Erin nodded and poured cereal in a bowl, added milk and poured a glass of juice. "I wonder how Jamie is this morning."
"Me too. Paul has my cell number. He would have called if there were any problems. Coffee?"
"No, thanks. I don't drink it. Um, I'll be ready in just a few minutes." When she finished her cereal, she padded back to the bathroom, taking fresh underwear from a drawer in the dresser, and fresh clothes from the closet.
Amy noticed, but didn't comment. She herself had used some of Jamie's clean clothes this morning, but was feeling somewhat uncomfortable in the revealing outfit that was the only type Jamie seemed to have. She had first selected a conservative skirt and blouse, but found they weren't in the size she and Jamie shared.
Amy called for a cab, and by the time it arrived, Erin was ready to go.
Back in the waiting room, Amy said, "Do you want to go stay with Jamie for a while? If you send Paul out, I can take him back to Jamie's to get some sleep."
"OK."
*****
The light was brighter when I next awoke. The same dull pain was present, but tolerable, and I did not feel as woozy from the drugs. Unbidden, an image flashed in my mind. I was watching a clenched hand withdraw from my abdomen, pulling with it something that gleamed a dark red in the subdued moonlight, dripping dark streaks down my white miniskirt and onto the ground. Memory of the intense pain washed over me, and I heard a high-pitched scream of desperation before someone turned out the lights.
I gradually became aware of a gentle stroking on my right hand, and saw dainty feminine hands holding mine.
"Amy?" I croaked.
"No, Jamie, it's Erin. Amy will be back before long."
"Drink?"
Erin rose and brought the cup to me, and placed the straw against my lips. I eagerly sucked the soothing coolness into my mouth, and swallowed with difficulty.
"Thanks. Thank you for being here. I'm sorry I'm messing up your day off."
Erin's lips quirked into a tiny smile, "Me too. But just because I wish you weren't in here to begin with." Her look turned serious. "God, Jamie, I'm so glad you're alive!"
I looked away. "I'm not!"
"Hey! None of that now! I thought you were getting better about beating yourself up. No backsliding here, understand?"
"Yes, mother," I murmured, and then sobbed, "Do you have any idea what I did? I'm not sure how much more I can take! It might be easier if they hadn't found me. It would all be over now. No more pain. No more suffering."
Erin was gripping my hand tightly now. "Yeah, and no more caring." She leaned over the bed and gently, lingeringly, kissed my lips. "No more love, either! No more Amy. Or Paul. Now you just put any idea like that right out of your mind, hear me?" She looked uncomfortable about something. "Jamie, there's a policewoman outside that would like to talk to you, if you feel up to it."
I sighed weakly, "Not really. But I guess it has to happen sometime." Erin stepped out of the room, and returned with a stocky young woman in a uniform. Erin promptly took a place at my side, giving a warning look to the officer.
"Hello, my name is Janice Perkins, and I'd like to ask you about the man who put you in here."
Over the next 15 minutes I related everything I could remember about my attacker, the circumstances, how he'd hassled me at work a few days before. It was difficult reliving the nightmare, and very exhausting. She informed me that the hospital had given them a semen sample from the residue on my face the night I'd been admitted, and that it could be used to make a positive ID when they caught the guy. Apparently I just drifted into unconsciousness with Officer Perkins still trying to gather information from me because I don't remember her leaving.
*****
Amy led Paul to James' apartment. Paul had insisted he was rested enough to drive himself. Amy let him in using James' keys, poured herself a cup of the leftover coffee, and then sank wearily into a chair.
"How is James doing, Paul? Were you able to talk to him at all?" Despite his appearance, Amy just could not let herself refer to James in feminine terms, though Paul fully accepted Jamie as a woman.
"Yeah, she was awake for a while earlier. She seems to be doing surprisingly well, considering the severity of the ..." Paul had a little trouble with Amy's continual use of male pronouns for Jamie, though he figured it must be really hard for her to think of her husband as a woman.
"Assault? Rape? You can say it Paul. That's what we are going to have to help James recover from. That's what happened to him."
Paul looked away. "She still loves you, you know. She didn't run away because she didn't love you. She ran because she didn't see how you could still love her."
Amy pondered that a moment. "Yeah, I think I've known that all along. I don't see how he can still love me after what I've done. And I don't see how he can believe I don't love him." She looked down. After the silence became uncomfortable, she looked up at Paul, studying his expression. He avoided her stare. Amy asked very quietly, "What is it, Paul? What's wrong?"
He paused so long, she wondered if he was going to answer, but finally he spoke. "I can't do this, Amy. I've got to go." He headed for the door.
"Paul, wait!" He stopped with his hand on the knob. "Paul. Why?"
He took a long time answering, carefully not looking at her. "Don't you see? That is not Jamie in that hospital bed. At least, not the Jamie I knew. That Jamie was good, and kind, and loving. She could never have done the things that... person in that bed has done. I can't trust myself to be with her right now."
"Paul. That is the same person! The kind, loving person you were coming to know. You just have to look under the layers of pain, and abuse, to find the Jamie you were starting to love. And Jamie needs you, Paul. Jamie needs all of us."
Paul still wouldn't look at her. "I just can't!" Then he was gone.
Amy sagged on the table. After a moment, she swallowed the rest of the cooling coffee, then put the cup in the sink and started back to the hospital.
*****
The touch of soft lips to mine was delicious. I began the swim from the depths of sleep savoring that gentle touch.
"Erin?" I murmured as my mind cleared.
"No, James. It's Amy."
I swung my head away, miserable. "Oh, God, Amy, I'm sorry. Last I knew, Erin was here."
"Shhh. It's OK, honey. I know." She placed her hands on each side of my face and pulled my head back to face her. I shut my eyes. I couldn't look at her. "James!" she said sharply. "Look at me!" I grudgingly opened my eyes. "I want you to understand something very, very clearly, OK? I love you! I have never stopped loving you! Don't you dare ever think that I could stop loving you! Got it?"
Her eyes told me the truth of her words. The sternness of her voice made me ashamed of doubting her. Tears welled in my eyes. I whispered, "I thought I had destroyed your love for me. I've done such horrible things, how can you possibly still love me?"
"Because you're still the person I fell in love with, and vowed to spend the rest of my life with! And you haven't done anything that would make me stop! And whatever you have done... whatever we've done, we'll deal with. When you get home, we'll work this all out and figure out where we go from here. Together! Never doubt that!"
I reached up with my right hand, wincing at the lance of pain in my gut, pulling her head down till our lips met. After a timeless moment of gentle contact, I moved her back just a little. "Amy, I love you. I believed I'd lost everything when I thought I'd lost you. I still don't understand how you can love me after what I've done, how I've treated you, but I'm just thankful that you do."
Tears were trickling slowly down her cheek, and I brushed them away with my thumb. She lay her head down carefully on my shoulder and hugged as tight as she dared. The embrace caused further pain in my abdomen, but I hardly noticed. I was exhausted and still woozy from the drugs in my system, and began to drift off in her arms.
Monday, Dec. 14
When I woke to bright sunlight streaming in the window, I was vaguely aware of having drifted near consciousness several times during the night. Most of those times, I fell back into sleep almost immediately, but once it took time for my wildly beating heart to slow, and the nightmare images to fade. Despite that, I felt more rested, and as I became more aware, realized I did not hurt as much as yesterday, though the stark terror of the attack still lingered somewhere on the fringes of my mind. In addition to the rhythmic beep of the heart monitor, I heard the sound of someone breathing lightly off to my right. Turning, I saw Erin asleep in the chair Paul had occupied yesterday. I smiled a bit sadly at my friend, my lover of the past week or so. I was grateful to her for helping me pull out of my tailspin, and uncomfortably aware of how I had betrayed Amy with this gentle soul. How was I going to set that right? How could I let her down gently, without pain? Heaven knew she'd had enough of that in her life, what with her true gender, and the transition she was undertaking. As I was musing, she started to stir, and saw I was looking at her.
"Morning, Jamie. How are you feeling today?"
I grinned wryly; "Ready to go dance at the club tonight, I think."
She giggled. It was good to see her smile after the last two days. "I take it that the pain is getting better?" She uncurled her legs from under her and rose gracefully to come to my side. I marveled how anyone could have ever mistaken her for a man.
She leaned down to kiss me on the cheek, and saw me blushing as she pulled back. "Erin ..." I began feebly.
"Shhh, I know love. You have Amy back now. I'll slip away quietly, now that I know you are getting better."
"No!" I said vehemently, then quieter, "No. Don't you dare! You are a special friend, Erin. So much more than a friend, really. And while things won't be like they were... I can't do that to Amy... I still want you in my life. I really want to watch you as you blossom into the woman you were meant to be."
She smiled, just a little sadly. "I'd like that." She looked at her watch. "Um, I really wanted to see you this morning, but I have to go get ready for work." She bit her lip nervously. "Amy went back home late last night, as she has patients she has to see today, but she said she'd be back later on."
I smiled my gratitude at her, and she squeezed my hand gently before slipping out the door.
I had slept pretty well during the night, and was fairly wide-awake for the first time since that awful night. I tried to take inventory of myself. Except for the deep, dull ache in my abdomen, and all the tubes sticking out of me, I seemed to be in pretty good shape physically. I shook my head ruefully and wondered how I managed to get myself into these fixes.
Not too much later, a doctor bustled through the door with my chart in his hand, and a nurse trailing in behind him. "Ah, you're awake, I see. Good. I'm Dr. Miller. How are you feeling this morning?" he said as he scanned my chart.
"Surprisingly well, considering."
"Good. Good. Well, let's just take a look at the wound and see how it's healing." Fitting actions to words he put on surgical gloves, pulled back the blanket and carefully lifted my gown to expose the bandages over my wound. I was embarrassed to have my naked groin exposed to him, but he paid that no attention as he focused on carefully peeling off the bandage.
It finally occurred to me what it was that wasn't right. I had a penis! Well, of course I had a penis, I thought with a tinge of discomfort. But the shock was that the penis was not hidden. "Um, Doctor?"
He glanced up from his task. "Yes?"
"What happened down there?" I felt my face burning as I pointed to my genitals.
"What?"
"What happened to my genitals?"
He frowned, then picked up my chart and flipped through it. He glanced at me, then back at the chart. "Oh, I see! There's a note here about having difficulty with the catheter, and having to do some work before they could insert it." He didn't look at my face as he went back to work.
With only a few twinges, he pulled the bandage free, and placed the bloodstained gauze carefully in a medical waste disposal bag. He peered closely at the wound, which I was now able to see for the first time. It was an ugly sight, puckered with the stitches and an angry red. It made me just a bit ill, looking at it. I wondered how I had managed to survive.
"Yes. Yes. It's looking pretty good. Seems to be healing nicely, and I see no signs of infection."
"Um, how long do you think I'll have to stay in here, doctor?"
He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Well, if it continues to heal as it has been, I should think maybe another couple of days, to make sure infection doesn't set in. But you'll have to spend a good deal of time in bed when you get home. You understand that, don't you?" I nodded.
"When can I get out of bed?"
"If everything is still OK, I'll remove the catheter this afternoon, and then you can get up and around a bit, but only with someone to help you."
"Ok, thank you, Doctor Miller."
Breakfast was boring, just Jell-O and clear juice. But I didn't have much of an appetite anyway. Apparently I was on a liquid diet for a while at least. The rest of the day was interminable, with long stretches of boredom punctuated by brief visits by a nurse or doctor. It gave me a lot of time to think about my situation, and what was really important to me. It also gave me time to reflect on all the mistakes I'd made these last few weeks, and to put some of the things that had happened into perspective. I came to the realization I didn't much care for whom I had become, or the way I had treated the most important people in my life.
One thing did occur to relieve the tedium. I had another visit from the police. This time the officer was male, and considerably less friendly than Officer Perkins had been. I don't know if it was because I was a stripper, or because I was a man that looked an awful lot like a woman, or maybe he just got out of bed on the wrong side this morning. Whatever the cause, he treated me with little respect as he went over the same ground I'd covered the day before. It was a relief when he finally quit badgering me and left.
Late in the afternoon, the catheter came out, and a nurse helped me get out of bed to visit the bathroom. She was very gentle helping me, but there was still considerable pain, and I was exhausted by the time I got back to the bed.
Amy arrived shortly after dinner. I use the term 'dinner' somewhat facetiously. It was simply incredible to see her walk into my room. All the pain and longing of the past month just washed away, and I got a silly grin on my face. She came to the bed and kissed me tenderly. It was so good just to be in the same room with her. She stayed as long as the nurses would let her, and we talked, and talked. She was mindful of my distress over recent events, and kept the conversation light. She discussed current events, her work, anything except subjects that might disturb me. Eventually she had to leave, and I settled down to another long lonely night.
Tuesday, Dec. 15
Tuesday was much the same. Whereas yesterday I'd had to survive a police inquisition, today it was the hospital psychologist. While I was painfully aware that the assault just added more issues to the list I needed help with, it is incredibly hard to talk to some stranger about them. I'm afraid that poor man must have felt like he was pulling teeth, for all that he was able to drag out of me. He finally left, though, with the belief that I was not an imminent suicide concern, with an admonishment to send for him if I had any problems while still here, and with stern instructions to go back to Dr. Simmons at my earliest opportunity.
The meals didn't get any better.
And Amy was just as welcome at the end of the day, though I missed seeing Erin, and would dearly have loved to see Paul.
They gradually extended my walks, and the pain slowly waned. I jolted awake screaming one time during the night, unable to remember why. A couple of other times I woke with my heart pounding and visions of blood lingering. I was more than ready to get out of there by the time Wednesday rolled around.
Wednesday, Dec. 16
Amy arrived at the hospital early in the afternoon, and after a few hours of frustration getting officially released; I was wheeled to the car in a wheelchair. The ride home was long, and not terribly comfortable. The roads around here just aren't that smooth, and every jolt sent a shock of pain radiating out from the wound. At last we were back to the house I'd run away from so very long ago. I felt tears sting my eyes when the house came into view, and I fought to hold them back as we pulled into the driveway.
I made it into the house, with Amy's help, but I was drained and hurting by the time we got to the bed. Amy offered to make some soup or whatever for dinner, but I only wanted sleep. It felt really great to fall asleep in our bed again, despite the discomfort of the wound.
Sometime in the night I woke to realize Amy was carefully snuggled against me, and I smiled as I drifted back into sleep. I had no nightmares while safe in Amy's arms that night.
Thursday, Dec. 17
Amy was not in the bed when I woke the next morning, but I heard the shower running. A shower sounded really good, after spending so much time in bed, but I was going to have to wait another day or two before the bandages could come off and I could get my wound wet. A few minutes later, Amy strolled out of the bathroom, toweling her hair dry, wearing not a stitch. My eyes drank in her lovely body, and I wondered how I had ever let myself leave her.
"Morning, sweetheart! How are you feeling today? Feel up to eating something?"
My eyes were still glued to the heavenly sight. "Yeah, actually I think I would like a little something. Aren't you supposed to be at work?"
"I had my receptionist move my appointments, or find other doctors to take them. I'm staying right here today."
"Ah, I see. Afraid I might run away again if you let me out of your sight, huh?'
A flash of pain flicked across Amy's face before she smiled at my feeble joke. "Yup, you got it. Now I've got you in my clutches again, I'm not ever letting you go!"
"Listen, Amy." I turned serious when I saw the pain I'd caused. "I can never make up for what I've done to you. I'm sorry. I don't believe what I did..."
"Hush. Enough of that! That is behind us, and that's where it will stay. Now all we need to do is figure out where we go from here." She looked down at me, totally unself-conscious in her nudity. "First things first, though. I need to get you cleaned up, and then we can eat, and talk."
She slipped on a sheer robe that still offered tantalizing glimpses of her body, before bringing a basin and wash cloth to the bed, folding back the covers and helping me out of the clothes I'd worn home yesterday. She gently washed and dried my front, examining to the area between my legs as she worked.
"Have you noticed any change, Ja..." She looked distressed as she paused. "Um, I guess I'm not sure what to call you right now. Do you prefer James or Jamie these days? Or should it be Dawn?"
I blushed furiously, realizing she knew what I'd been up to recently. I managed to stammer out, "I'm not really sure any more, either. I guess while I still look like this, Jamie is more appropriate, unless you're more comfortable with James. Besides, that's what it says on my license."
She sighed, "Ok, Jamie, let's get you turned over so I can finish this job. Doing this takes me back to my intern days when the doctors thought it was great fun to put us to work helping out with stuff like this."
"Well, I think you do it wonderfully. If things get tough, you can always fall back on these skills and work as a nursing assistant, or a masseuse." It was true, her hands felt wonderful on me.
"Ok, all done. Let's get something on you and you can sit up in the chair while I change the sheets." She brought out a peach colored, knee length, silk nightie, and helped me up, into it, and then down onto the chair. She made short work of changing the bed. "There! Do you want to lie down again, or sit up while I fix us something to eat?"
"How about I come sit in the kitchen while you work. I'm tired of being in bed."
It was a treat to watch her fix breakfast, and made up for the discomfort of navigating to the kitchen. After she's set poached eggs, juice and toast at both our places, she sat down to eat with me.
After eating a few bites in nervous silence, she said, "Ja..., um, Jamie, you're not going to run away again are you?"
Her pain pierced me to my heart. "No, Amy. I learned some things from this fiasco. One thing is that I still love you more than anything. Another is that running doesn't make the problems go away. Finally, I learned that I need help getting through this, and I'm really hoping that you're the one who will do that." It was my turn to be nervous, and I found it difficult to meet her eyes.
She snorted. "Better believe I'll help all I can, buster!" She paused again with a worried look on her face. "But will I be helping Jamie or James? Don't get me wrong! I love both of them, and I want you to do what is right for you." She sighed. "But I kinda miss my hubby."
"I kinda miss being your hubby, too. And I'm pretty sure that's what I want to be, but I just don’t know if I can."
"You've learned more about the effect of the hormones, then?"
"Not really. I've kept the appointments with Dr. Myers, but the last couple of blood tests have still been inconclusive, though not discouraging. But it's not just that. Even if that goes the right way, I'm not convinced I can be a man again. I mean, look at this body!" I blushed and looked away. "And there have been other changes too." I struggled to get the words out, and couldn't look at Amy. "I've slept with men."
"I know. I heard. Is that what you prefer?" she asked gently.
My head jerked up, and I looked at Amy. "No!" I took a deep breath. "But it kind of changes you, you know?"
"Well, we'll work it out somehow. What is going on with Rick? Have you still been seeing him?"
Rick Simmons was the psychologist I was seeing before I fell apart. "No. I was too embarrassed about what was happening to be able to talk to him."
"Will you go back to him, or find someone else to talk to if you're uncomfortable talking to him?"
I thought about it for a while. "That's a hard one. It's really difficult to talk this stuff out with a stranger. And I'm not sure it was helping before."
Amy got a pleading look in her eyes. "Please?"
I sighed deeply. I knew she was right, but that didn't make it any easier. "Ok. Can you arrange an appointment for after I get back on my feet? And I think I need to get blood drawn tomorrow for the endocrinologist, if I can get there."
"I'll talk to Sol and see if I can take the sample here at home and take it in to him."
"That would be good, if we can. I'm not sure I could make it in there this soon. Speaking of which, I think I'd better get back to the bed while I still have some energy to do it."
I spent the day dozing, and talking to Amy. She was always there when I woke from my naps. How did I ever leave this woman? She also found time to run over to my apartment and bring back my laptop and a few other things I thought I could use here. That night, I was able to enjoy the sensations of snuggling against the woman I love again for the first time in such a long time, and I drifted off to sleep feeling her close to me. Again, my sleep was without troubling dreams.
Friday, Dec. 18
Amy rose early to get ready for work. She took her obligation to her patients seriously, and I already felt guilty for keeping her from work the day before, though I'd loved spending the time with her. She served me breakfast in bed, and gave me the most loving kiss before she left. I could have just drowned in that kiss.
I managed to get myself out of bed and into the bathroom to do the necessary. I was still pretty weak, but the pain was getting better every day. Not that I was ready to go jogging or anything. I spent some little time on my computer, going through the email that had collected over the past month. I was both pleased and worried that there were a few contract possibilities. I had been afraid that word of the circumstances leading to the termination of the last contract and the failure to get another might have spread and totally destroyed any possibility of future work. I composed answers to the two apologizing for being tardy responding, citing medical issues that would still keep me occupied for another few weeks, and inquiring if there was still interest. After the last two instances of trying to explain my appearance as Jamie, one resulting in verbal abuse and threat of physical injury, I was reluctant about meeting prospects in person, but I was not willing to give up my career.
More troubling was an email from InfoSource, the company I'd been working for when all this started. The man's name was unfamiliar, and there was very little indication in the message about the reason for the email. My mind flitted through various possibilities: demand for the return of the contract settlement, lawsuit, further harassment ... my mind was able to turn up way too many chilling scenarios. I posted a non-committal reply stating I had been indisposed, and inquiring as to the purpose of their contact. I forwarded a copy to Ken Gorman, my attorney, just in case anything disturbing developed.
Amy came home for lunch with the paraphernalia necessary to take my blood sample, and dropped it at Sol Myers' office on her way back to work.
Even though it was mid-December, the weather was warm in this southwestern American desert. After Amy left, I stripped out of her nightie, managing to get into a bikini without tearing my wound open, and lay on a lounge chair on the patio, letting the gentle afternoon sun soak into my bones. As I absorbed the heat and comfort, my eyes were drawn in morbid fascination to the bandage covering my wound. My imagination painted pictures of puckered raw flesh, disfiguring the body I had once taken so much pride in, the one I'd been living in these past few months. I was exhausted toward the end of the day, but managed to get out of the suit and back into the nightie, then collapsed back into bed before Amy got home.
After a light dinner that Amy brought me in bed, she snuggled up to me and started lightly stroking my skin.
"Jamie..." she spoke softly, and uncertainly. "Will you tell me about the time you were gone?"
I thought about that time, and tried to figure out what I could say.
She apparently decided I was ignoring the question, because she finally said, "You don't have to if you don't want to."
I sighed. "No, Amy, it's not that. I've just hurt you so much already. I don't want to make it worse. I think I must have gone a little crazy there for a while. I've done some things I'm not proud of, and I'm afraid telling you about them will only hurt you more."
"More than not knowing? More than imagining? If things were reversed, would you rather not know?"
"If I do, will you tell me about what went on here? How you coped, what you were thinking, feeling?" I noticed Amy squirmed a bit when I asked that. "It's only fair. I know I've kept secrets, but we've always been honest with each other before this, and that's something I really want to get back to."
"Ok..." she said in a small voice, "but you first."
I thought for another minute. "Let me go back a few weeks before I left, because I was shutting you out even then. You already know about what happened with Jerry. But I don't really think I ever talked to you about how much that shook me. I had never had a thought before then of any sexual interest in men, but I fell so easily into giving him oral sex. It made me question everything about myself. I think that's part of why I started seeing Paul so much, but that only made me feel worse, like I was cheating on you. It just seemed so natural, though." I was finding this really hard to say to my wife, but her gentle caresses and occasional murmurs of support and comfort helped me go on.
I continued, picking my words carefully, pausing sometimes when I couldn't figure out my own thoughts, trying to make it clear to me as well as Amy. "As Halloween approached, I was able to put the incident with Jerry behind, and just enjoy what we were sharing at that point, taking pride in my impersonation of you, in seeing how much I could learn about you. How well I could mimic you."
Then it got hard again, as I talked about the Halloween party. I spoke of the guilt I felt about putting Amy into that position with her boss, and the degradation I suffered submitting to Dr. Albert's perverse demands. The physical and emotional pain. The initial gratitude when Amy arrived to save me, then utter terror as I thought what this might do to her love for me. I tried to make her understand how that sequence of events virtually destroyed not only my self-esteem, but also any masculine ego I had left. I tried to make her see how that had sent me running to Sandy to change the way I looked, but not back to the male me, rather to an even more feminine image. Which in turn increased my guilt, and I couldn't face going back to Rick after going against his advice to put off any physical changes.
That brought me to the visit to Mikaela's, explaining that it's a bar that catered to TG's as well as others with alternative lifestyles. That was where I'd met Erin. I'd never talked with Amy about it, but at that point, I was very close to giving up on ever being James again, and needed to know more about a choice to remain female.
Because of the impending meeting with the company I was contracting for, perforce as a female they knew nothing about, I saw my lawyer, preparing for any repercussions to the contract, and also initiating legal procedures to change my name. I was nearly driven over the edge by that disastrous meeting at InfoSource where I endured not only verbal abuse, but also the threat of physical violence. I described how I searched desperately for a way to redeem my self-worth, and then remembering the offer from Paul's company. By the time that fell through, I'd had all I could take. My befuddled brain could think of nothing but to escape, and in my fevered thoughts I came up with the idea that Paul should step into my place to help Amy carry on. I told her of how I made Paul promise to do just that.
Reliving all the anguish to that point had me almost gibbering, trembling in Amy's arms. She tried to get me to stop talking, but I couldn't. Having opened the floodgates, I wasn't going to be able to stop until I had it all out there.
Next came the description of my flight, opening a bank account in Jamie's name using my new ID, finding a motel as far across town as I could get, not sure if I would stay there a while, or continue to run. Going out to drown my guilt and sorrow, trying to forget my lost life, my lost love, my pain. Meeting up with a nice guy named Jim, who sensed my distress, and wouldn't let me drink alone. How after several drinks, I wanted something different, so he took me to another bar, a strip club. How I entered in a wet t-shirt contest, and by taking third place, had won a chance to dance at the club the next night, and about being just drunk enough, and excited enough from the contest, to do it. I told of being offered the job, and in my battered state of mind, actually believing it was appropriate for me to have such a demeaning job.
In a way, it was easier now, because there were some good times to talk about. But in a way it was harder, because I had to tell Amy how I'd enjoyed the work, taking my clothes off in front of men, the thrill of moving to the music, attracting the tips, tantalizing the audience. Then I tried to describe my state of mind when I slept with Jim, before sending him away to keep from destroying him as I'd destroyed us. Then as I suffered from that breakup, one customer got me drunk, and sweet talked me to his home, his bed, and all the kinky things we'd done all night, followed by his confirmation of my fallen image when he made me a whore, paying me for services rendered.
The next day I was back at Mikaela's, my male side losing ground again to the female, looking for something, anything really, that would tip the scale, resolve my internal conflict one way or the other. That was how I hooked up with Erin again.
I talked of the healing Erin brought me, and how I sought solace in her arms and her bed, how she helped me rediscover what was important to me, and then, just on the verge of calling home, the attack.
By the time I'd finished, I was wrung out, and both Amy and I had tear streaks down our cheeks. She held me for a long time, murmuring calming words, soothing my pain, and then later reminding me of the rewards of the physical side of the love we share. I think it may have been the raw emotions uncovered by recounting my tale, but I woke screaming again, clutching at my abdomen where I'd just watched that knife withdraw, pulling my lifeblood with it. It took a while before Amy was able to calm me enough to sleep again.
Saturday, Dec. 19
Amy woke me the next day with breakfast on a tray. Glancing at the clock, I saw it was nearly 10 am. After the episode in the middle of the night, I needed the extra rest. She started my meal off with a lingering, tenderly passionate kiss that swept the rest of the cobwebs from my awakening mind. She sat in the comfortable chair near the bed as I ate; seeming to soak up the sight of me, home again. That, as much as nearly anything else, helped bolster my self-image, and a tiny spark of joy in what I am, who I am, regardless of the configuration and imperfections of my body. It felt good, and I swore to myself that I would find all the happiness I could in life as it came to me, putting the trials of the recent past where they belonged: in the past.
When I'd eaten, Amy hovered over me as I got myself up and into the bathroom. Per Doctor Miller's instructions, Amy removed my bandage, and I was able to take a shower for the first time in over a week. Amy joined me, and lovingly soaped my body, playing with the parts that gave me pleasure, gently and carefully cleaning the now healing wound that still made its angry presence known on my belly. She washed herself, then used her flowery shampoo on my hair, and applied cream rinse. We patted dry with soft towels, and then I sat at the vanity as Amy used the blow dryer on my hair. In the mirror I could see that my hair had grown enough in the last few weeks that the light brown roots were becoming quite noticeable against my artificially black tresses.
"You think maybe we could visit Life Style, and see if Ellie can do something with my hair sometime soon?" I asked.
"Sure, when you think you're up to it. Maybe I can get my color touched up as well."
Amy continued to dry, and then lovingly brush out my hair as we enjoyed the companionship, neither feeling the need to talk further. But after a while, Amy gave voice to her musings. "You know, before this I'd never had a lesbian fantasy, or any desire to be intimate with another woman, but with you it seems so easy, so natural. I wonder of it's just that I know it's you in there that makes it ok, or if I've had latent bisexual leanings all along?" She was silent again for a while as she stroked my hair to a natural sheen. "Whichever it is, it's nice to know that it won't be a problem whichever way you end up going."
I snorted. "You mean you won't kick me out when I become James again?"
She thought a moment. "Well, maybe. Depends on if I get any better offers! I wonder... Do you suppose Erin would be interested?" She dodged my playful swat at her fanny and stuck her tongue out at me. The camaraderie and light-hearted banter felt so good that I broke out in a giggles, even while clutching my abdomen to try to minimize the discomfort.
Amy helped me back to the bed, and cuddled beside me. I spoke softly, "Ok, your turn."
"Hunh?" I could see she was suddenly nervous.
"Time to tell me about what I've put you through these past few weeks."
I have to give her credit. She looked like she wanted to bolt, but I could see her gather herself, and absently stroke my arm while she pulled her thoughts together.
"The last few weeks before you left were so hard. You were shutting me out at every turn, asking for space, and I was so afraid I'd made you hate me. You wouldn’t tell me what you felt. You wouldn't let me love you. I tried so hard to get you to see Rick, but that just seemed to push you further away. All of that was bad, but then I thought my world had ended when I found that note." She paused, desperately trying to control her emotions as she relived that moment. Despite her best effort, a tear trickled from one eye, and I gently brushed it away.
"God, Amy. I am so sorry about what I did..." She gently touched a finger to my lips to stop me.
"Then Paul showed up, telling me what you'd made him promise. He held me as I cried, and put me to bed. He called work for me, telling them I'd be out a few days. He took a leave of absence from his own job, nearly quitting over what his boss had done to you. I was a wreck those first few days. We tried everything we could think of to find you, but didn't really know what to do, where to look. Nobody we talked to knew where you'd gone. I checked with Sol and Rick, but even friendship wouldn't make them ignore doctor-patient confidentiality. The whole time you were gone I couldn't even find out from them if you'd been to see them. The police wouldn't help since you left of your own free will." She was almost hyperventilating, and I hugged her tightly for a few moments as she calmed down. She finally resumed the narrative, "I was like a zombie those first few weeks, merely going through the motions because I didn't know what else to do. I didn't sleep much. I am amazed I didn't make terrible mistakes treating my patients." She gave a mirthless chuckle, "I dropped some weight, so I weighed as little as you." She stopped again, and I felt her tensing, steeling herself for something.
"Then I found your message on the machine. I fell completely apart. I called Paul, and was crying so much I doubt he could understand a word. He must have broken a speed record getting here, and all I could do was cry. He listened to the message, and tried to calm me, making the best of it, telling me we at least knew you were OK. He put me to bed, and before he left, I asked him to not leave me alone. He lay on top of the covers and held me all night." Tears now started leaking from both her eyes, and she searched my eyes, begging for understanding. "When I awoke before dawn, I felt his arms around me. At first I thought it was you. God, how I wanted it to be you. I kissed you, stroked you in the darkness. But it wasn't you, and suddenly I didn't care. I needed to be loved! When Paul started waking, he thought it was you making love to him, asking in a whisper if it was you. God forgive me, I told him it was, so he wouldn't stop. Before it was over, we both knew who the other was, but we didn't care." She sobbed. "God, James, it was so wonderful to feel that way, but so..." She searched my eyes for acceptance as she searched for the right word, "... so painful at the same time. To know I loved you so much, but to get such fulfillment from making love to someone else." She shuddered as the words stopped, and buried her head into my side. I held her tight, making soothing noises, gently stroking her head as she sobbed quietly.
After a long time, she pulled back and looked up at me, saying in a very small voice, "I'm so sorry, James. Can you forgive me?"
I tried to put all the love I had for this wonderful creature into my intent gaze as I asked, "Can you forgive me?" She just looked at me, not knowing how to respond. "Look, Amy. We both did things that we look back on and wish we hadn't, or feel weren't right. All I know is that I love you, maybe more now than ever. I don't think I'll ever forget the things I've done. How I've hurt you. But I want to get past all that. I want to be with you, if you'll have me." I'd intended to say more, but at that point she began smothering me with kisses, gently hugging me, trying not to hurt my still tender abdomen. She seemed so joyful and exuberant that I could do nothing but respond in kind. Soon her hands began to wander, and despite my weakened condition, I began to respond. She nibbled one of my nipples, and a tingling spread from that hardening point, spreading to engulf my other breast, and flowing slowly down to my crotch, where I felt a fullness developing that I'd not noticed lately. As much as I was enjoying the attention, the excitement and emotions quickly drained my meager energy reserves, and I drifted off to sleep as Amy still caressed and kissed me all over. I never did get the rest of her story, but she'd told me what she needed to get off her chest.
I resurfaced sometime later to find Amy no longer in bed with me. I heard voices, and gingerly rose from the bed, wrapping myself in a robe. After visiting the restroom, I walked carefully to the living room, following the sound of quiet conversation. As I entered, I saw Erin sitting on the sofa quietly speaking to Amy. When she caught sight of me her face lit up, and Amy turned, knowing it would be me. There was a gentle smile on her lips.
"Erin stopped by to see how you're doing."
I walked over and sat beside Erin, pulling her into a hug while trying not to strain my wound. "I'm doing fine. It's so good to see you. How are you doing?"
We talked for a while, until Erin could see I was tiring. She said goodbye with a chaste peck on the cheek and a shy glance toward Amy, and then stood to leave, with Amy walking her to the door. I saw Amy embrace Erin, then whisper in her ear before Erin walked out.
Amy sent me back to bed, and shortly brought in a light snack that we ate in companionable silence.
Sunday, Dec. 20
Sunday was another day that I spent mostly in bed, though I did manage a little more time out in the sun. Amy hovered around me much of the day, as if she feared I would vanish if she let me out of her sight. The warm sun felt good, but the angry redness on my taut tummy was disconcerting, and continually drew my gaze.
Late morning, the doorbell rang. I just stayed in the sun as Amy went to answer it. She soon returned with our latest visitor.
"Hey, stranger. I heard you were back. How are you doing?"
I looked up at Sandy with mixed feelings. "Hi, Sandy. I'm doing better, now that I'm back home. How about you?"
She responded with a wry grin, "Well, I've been better. In fact, I am better now that you're home."
We talked for a while, and I noticed Amy was quite reserved with Sandy. I wondered if all this pain would be just a waste, given the apparent gulf between them. Sandy examined the wound so openly displayed on my scantily clad body, and offered her expertise to minimize the scarring when it healed. Sandy apologized several times over the course of her visit for putting me through all this, but each time I pointed out that I'd gone into it with my eyes open, and had made all my own decisions. I tried to make her see that I didn't blame her for what had happened, but I don't think I convinced her. After a while, when the tension between them didn't ease, Sandy sadly took her leave. I decided that I needed to do something about the situation, as I wasn't about to let this exercise be in vain.
After Sandy left, Amy and I talked a lot, and it felt really good to reestablish the soul-deep connection we felt for each other. As the day progressed, you could almost feel the tension between us fading away, like dry ice left out in the sun. I must really have lost my mind to throw this life away.
I startled awake at one point in the night, with memories of an erect penis spewing warm fluid into my mouth with me on my knees looking up into the face of a monster. My heart was beating madly, and took some time to slow, but Amy seemed to sleep through my terror.
Monday, Dec. 21
I didn't wake fully till late on Monday, though I remembered Amy kissing me goodbye as she left for work. I rose and ate a light breakfast. While I was puttering around the office, the phone rang.
"Hello?"
"Hello. Is this Ms. Hasting?"
I felt my gut clench, "Yes. Who is this?"
"Ms. Hastings, my name is Tad Robbins. I don't believe we've ever met, but I am a director at InfoSource." My hand started to shake, and I fought the desire to slam the phone down. My last contact with this company still gave me occasional nightmares.
Fighting for control, I was proud of how calmly I responded, "What can I do for you, Mr. Robbins?"
"Please, call me Tad. First and foremost, Ms. Hastings, I want to apologize for the way you were treated when you were here last. We have very explicit rules, not to mention the relevant laws, against gender discrimination. The project manager, Tom Kirby, has been reprimanded."
I wasn't yet sure what was going on, but at least I was no longer shaking like a leaf. "Um, Ok."
"Next, I want to commend you on the work you have done for us in the past. It has always been timely, and of the highest quality."
"Uh, thanks."
"Let me be frank with you, Ms. Hastings. We really could use your help. Is there any chance we could convince you to take on another project for us? Looking back, your work on the last one was top-notch, and the fact that you helped us recognize the inherent problems with the project design as early as you did saved our company a lot of money. We have significantly reworked the design, and would really like the benefit of your expertise to review and implement it."
Sucking a deep breath, I replied, "That's very flattering, Tad. But I am recuperating from a rather serious injury at the moment. I am not sure if I can commit right now."
"I'm sorry to hear that, Ms. Hastings. I wish you a smooth and successful recovery. We have a little flexibility in the schedule, and, to be honest, we haven't found anyone else we are willing to trust this to. Do you have any feel when you might be up to meeting to discuss the technical aspects? And let me assure you, given what we owe you for your performance on your last contract, and also for the abuse you endured from our employee, the terms of this contract will be much more beneficial to you than the last one."
I was still not sure I wanted anything to do with these people again, but I was also somewhat desperate to get my career restarted. I willed my wildly beating heart to calm. "Not before Christmas. Maybe early next week? Are you working the week before New Year?"
"Next week would be just fine. Say Tuesday at 9:00 AM?"
"Yes, OK. Hopefully I will be up to it by then. Could I ask you to forward a preliminary contract proposal to my lawyer to check over first? I hope you don't mind, but I would like some assurance against a repeat of my last meeting with your people."
"Ok, I think we can do that. I will have our legal people draft an addendum with some safeguards for you and forward that and our current standard contract."
I gave him Ken's name and address, said goodbye, and collapsed into a chair. It took me several minutes to fully recover, but I felt a spark of hope deep in my heart.
I spent some more time relaxing in the sun that afternoon. This is really the ideal time of year to soak up the rays. Far too much of the year is inordinately hot in this desert climate. Now, the cool air offset the bite of the sun nicely.
That evening, I managed to have a simple meal ready for Amy when she returned from work. Even though it nearly exhausted me, it felt really good to do these homey things for my life mate again. It's the little things that you seem to miss most when you lose them.
Over dinner, I told Amy of my conversation with Tad. She picked up my nervousness and asked if I really felt up to going. I assured her that I would be fine, and how anxious I was to get back to "real" work.
As we cuddled in bed that night, Amy asked, "Sweetheart, have you thought any more about the future? Am I going to have James or Jamie sharing my bed?"
"Amy, I'm pretty sure I know what I want, which is to be your husband. But I'm still really confused about some of the things I've done, and the feelings I've had while doing them. Also, the way I feel about Paul has me confused. What about you?"
There was a noticeable pause before she responded. "I love you as James, and as Jamie. And I want what is best for you." She took another moment before continuing. "Please don't take this as pressure to make you choose something that wouldn't be right for you, but I really hope I have my hubby back soon. Oh, and do you think you would feel up to seeing Rick on Wednesday after your visit to Sol? That was the only time I could get you in soon, and he'll be out of the office after that till after New Year."
It was not my favorite thing to look forward to, but Amy wanted it, and I knew I needed help, so, "Yeah, I think I can do that."
We snuggled some more, and Amy stroked my curvy body, gently arousing me, but not pushing for anything more if I wasn't up to it. As her finger trailed over my recently unfettered groin, lingering to lightly enflame my manhood, she asked, "Are you feeling any response down there? Is there any sign of improvement?"
I felt the pressure of pleasure building up inside me. "Yes," I breathed, "I do feel something down there."
Amy slid down my body and replaced her questing finger with a probing tongue, and the pressure continued to build. I ran my fingers through her beautiful golden hair, and moaned quietly. Amy shifted to a better angle, sucked my swollen cock into her mouth, and moved one hand up to tweak one sensitive and rock-hard nipple. The pressure increased, until finally waves of pleasure washed over me. I watched between the mounds on my chest as milky cum sprayed across Amy's nose and cheeks. It had been ages since anything I produced had had that milky color. Progress? I was hopeful.
Tuesday, Dec. 22
Amy was gone again when I pulled myself from bed. I showered, closely examining the slowly fading but still angry wound. After dressing and eating a little, I left the house for the first time since returning home, strolling toward the park. I missed my walking, and was anxious to get back to it. Or was it that I was anxious to see Paul again. I'd missed him since the hospital, and it hurt that he hadn't been around even once. Amy studiously avoided the subject, sidestepping my queries, so I knew there had to be a problem there.
I didn't even make it to the walking path before I started to tire, so turned around and headed back home. That still sounded wonderful; home!
After resting a little, I went to my home office and started putting things in order, just in case I had the opportunity to go back to work soon. The rest of the day was a mix of that, plus some sun, some light flexibility exercises, and a snooze on the couch. Also, I put together a bit better meal for Amy when she got home.
I awoke thrashing in bed with the feel of Amy's arms around me, and her voice murmuring comfortingly. It took a while, but I finally forced the images of terror away and fell back asleep.
Wednesday, Dec. 23
Amy roused me, as she got ready for work. This was to be a big day for me, as I had morning appointments with both the endocrinologist and the psychologist, and I was still quite weak. But it would be good to get out of the house for a while.
I ate breakfast with Amy for a change, and then kissed her hungrily before she left. I showered, washing and conditioning my hair, then set about getting ready to meet the world again. I was determined to meet a standard that would help me reestablish my self-worth. I used the blow drier on my hair, brushing it till it shone, glistening ebony in the light of the vanity, and arranged it to minimize the contrasting roots that had grown out.
For the first time in weeks, I considered the package between my legs. Since Colorado, I hadn't had to worry about it, but now, as I prepared to go out again, I knew I would have to take care of it. I found the appliance I'd depended on before Dr. Wells' operation and sighed as I glued it in place. I was not going to take any chances on presenting an unfeminine appearance!
I donned some middle-of-the-road lingerie, not wanting the overtly sexy look I'd had the past months, nor the plainness of simple cotton undies. I spent a lot of time on my makeup, and was satisfied with the "less is more" look that still emphasized my unmistakably pretty face.
I found a knee-length beige suede skirt, and would have loved to wear a cropped top with it, but that exposed my very noticeable injury. What I finally found was a cami top with an asymmetrical hem that bared my left hip above the skirt, and dipped below the waistband on the right, doing an effective job of covering my imperfection.
I left with plenty of time, so I could move slowly, conserving my energy. I arrived at Dr. Myers office a little early, and tried to recharge for a few minutes in his comfortable waiting room. After I'd been shown back by a nurse, Sol entered with his usual bustle and bluster. He did, however, spend a bit more time with me today. My blood work was quite encouraging, and he asked about any noticeable signs of the returning testosterone. I blushed as I described the gradual increase in sensation and reaction from my genitals, and the returning color of my ejaculate. He confirmed that those were indeed encouraging signs, and noted I may also start seeing a gradual increase in the coarseness and density of my body hair. I mentioned that my beard had been removed by laser, and that I had seen no noticeable change, as yet, in my chest or leg hair. He concluded the appointment with the note that we were still in the wait and see mode, but signs were becoming encouraging.
Once I escaped, I drove carefully to Rick Simmons office, and rested in my car for the half-hour till my appointment. While I waited, my cell phone rang.
"Hello?"
"Hi, honey. How are you holding up?" Amy asked.
"Well, I am pretty tired, and not looking forward to seeing Rick at all, but other than that, I'm fine. How is your day going?"
"Fine. Just wanted to check on you. Will you be OK?"
"Sure, if I survive this next appointment," I said with a nervous chuckle.
"Do you want me to come with you? I can be there in ten minutes. It might be a good idea for me to hear what Rick has to say, and I don't want you to feel you have to face him on your own."
"Amy, love. I would love to have you here, but you have obligations to your patients. I'll be just fine. Maybe next time you can come with me."
"OK, if you're sure. Good luck. Remember, I love you!"
We said our goodbyes, and I trudged into the building to face whatever may come. I must admit that Rick was less into psychobabble and answering questions with questions today. But that may have been because he spent the entire time, plus some extra, extracting the whole story of my flight and my take on the reasons for it, as well as my time away from Amy, including the attack, my nightmares, and my recovery so far. That was more than enough for one day, and it left me wrung out like a damp dishrag.
I found someplace to nibble a salad for lunch, then set about finding something a little special for my wife, as Christmas was only two days away, and I had been a little too occupied lately to shop. I chose an upscale jewelry store to begin my search, and almost right away found a ring that I loved, and thought she would as well. It was a delicate band with entwined gold and platinum hearts that completely circled the finger. Inside, I had it engraved with "To Amy, All my love forever. James". There were matching earrings with interlocking hearts of gold and platinum dangling from a delicate chain, and a necklace with a fine chain supporting a larger pair of matching hearts that would nestle within the valley of her fantastic breasts. I was doubly thankful, as I'd found something I loved, and had found it very quickly.
Once the engraving was done, at extra cost to get it immediately, I made my way home and fell into bed. Amy woke me when she got home, and we talked over the dinner she'd put together. I was still emotionally wrung out by the time I went to bed, and not surprisingly I had a visit from my friend the nightmare. I was so glad Amy was there to comfort me.
Thursday, Dec. 24
Amy let me sleep late, and I took full advantage. Except for being on call a few of the days, she was off now until after New Year. I couldn't sleep too late, though, as my bladder became insistent. I made my way to the bathroom, and for the first time in a long time, I tried standing to pee. It seemed really weird, vaguely disquieting, even though I'd done it my whole life except the past few weeks.
Over lunch we talked about many things, one of which was the state of my hair color. As I made my way back to the bedroom to dress, Amy called Life Style and made appointments for both of us for the day after Christmas. We lounged in the sun for a while, and I dozed a bit too. We took a short walk together, and I was pleased to find I made it noticeably farther than the last time I'd walked. When we got back, though, I was pretty tired, and lay on the bed for a while.
By the time Amy called me to dinner, I was feeling somewhat rested, and was glad to spend some time out of the bed. We cuddled and listened to music, talking quietly about the past, the future, my work and hers, friends, family, and anything else that came up. The feeling of belonging again was glorious, and occasionally I felt a tear or two drip down my cheek as I savored the moment.
At bedtime, I used the solvent to remove the gaff I'd worn since yesterday. We climbed into bed with wispy nighties and panties on, but Amy first cuddled, and then tentatively touched me, heating me up with caresses, gentle kisses, and loving whispers. It wasn't long before we were both au naturel, and I was returning Amy's attention in kind. As Amy stroked my manhood, I felt it twitch and swell. She whispered, "May I?" I nodded and she kissed her way down my body until she could slip my mild erection between her lips and perform all manner of devilish and magical enchantments upon it. I was in heaven. It had been almost three months since I'd last been this stiff. While it was not yet hard enough to do the job for real, I felt a surge of hope as Amy skillfully tipped me over the brink and I exploded.
When I recovered slightly, I attacked her voraciously, kissing her lips, probing with my tongue, encountering the salty-slick aftertaste of me in her mouth. I switched to her breasts and licked, sucked and nipped till she was arching her back, pushing herself into my mouth, silently begging for more. And I gave her more, switching sides from time to time, and eventually working my way down to her most private spot, administering to her some of the pleasure she'd brought me until she climaxed not once, but twice. After that we cuddled, kissed goodnight, murmured our love to each other, and drifted into sleep.
Friday, Dec. 25
As I woke Christmas morning, the feelings of home and being loved washed over me. I realized just how lucky I was to have all this back after so nearly throwing it away.
Amy stretched in all her naked glory as she returned from the bathroom, and slipped back under the covers to snuggle against my equally bare form. "Merry Christmas, Honey!" she breathed into my ear. I felt a tear trickle down my cheek. She brushed it away and whispered, "What is it, sweetheart?"
I struggled to speak around the lump I my throat. "I just never thought I'd be this happy again!" I buried my face in her wonderful bosom and held on for dear life, slowly composing myself till I could pull back and give her a sunny smile. "Merry Christmas, Amy. I love you more than I can ever express." This time she hugged tight.
Amy went to the kitchen to fix breakfast as I used the facilities, then rummaged through my purse to find the gift I'd bought for her, so precisely wrapped by the store. Slipping into a silky sheer robe, I padded into the kitchen. I set the table and sat down to watch Amy work, quietly placing the gift by her plate. When she brought the food and saw the package, she scampered off to our bedroom and returned almost instantly to set a small box next to my plate. By unspoken agreement, we ate first, chatting away, stealing occasional glances at the waiting packages. When we finished, Amy let out a giggle and grabbed her present, ripping into the crisp white wrapping. I lifted her gift to me and unwrapped more slowly, keeping my eyes on her.
When she got it open, she sucked in a breath and looked up at me with glistening eyes. "Jamie, it's beautiful." She lifted the ring and started to slip it onto her finger, but I stopped her, and raised her hand that held the ring toward her eyes. After an instant of puzzlement, she got the idea and looked at the inside of the band. Her eyes misted and she launched herself at me, pulled up before she made contact, and carefully but firmly embraced me, raining kisses on my neck, face, and mouth. Pulling back, she said, "I love it!" And squeezed me again. I took the ring from her and slipped it onto her finger.
When she moved back to her chair, I was able to unwrap her gift to me. I opened it to find a beautiful heart-shaped locket on a fine gold chain. Raising an eyebrow, I asked, "Is this trying to tell me something? Expecting Jamie to be around longer?"
She got a worried look on her face. "No! Not at all. Look inside." I opened it to find facing pictures. Peering at them closely, I saw that they were not traditional, with one of her and one of me. Amy was in both pictures, smiling lovingly at the other person portrayed. In one picture, it was James smiling back, and in the other, Jamie. "Um, I wanted something that told you I love you both, and whatever way it comes out, I will go on loving you."
I couldn't leave that pained look on her face, so I slid to my knees beside her, gathering her into my arms and told her it was gorgeous, and I loved it, and the sentiment it conveyed. I handed her the chain and locket and held up my hair to let her lace her gift to me around my neck.
We both looked very glamorous as we cleaned up from breakfast, decked out as we were in our new jewelry and the similar nearly transparent gowns that showed as much of our curvy bodies as they hid. We got Christmas dinner on to cook, and then shared a shower. The sight of the water cascading over my beautiful wife once again brought me to semi-erect attention. Amy noticed, smiled, and played just a bit before we got down to business and finished cleansing ourselves.
Amy dressed casually, but attractively. I was a little surprised at the choice of clothes for us to lounge around the house, but I shrugged and dressed similarly.
During the early afternoon, the phone rang, and Amy answered.
"Hello?"
"Oh, hi mom. Merry Christmas!"
I perked up and listened to Amy's half of the conversation.
"We're fine. How are you and dad doing? How's the cruise?"
"Uh, huh."
"Uh, huh."
"Sounds wonderful! Ja... Um. James and I will have to do that one of these days."
"James? Oh, he's fine." She looked at me and mouthed "now".
"Um, no, he can't come to the phone right now."
"Ok, I'll wish him Merry Christmas for you. He wishes you the same."
"Hello, daddy! Having a good time?"
"Enjoying all the bikini babes?" Amy had a wicked grin on her lips, and I could imagine her dad blushing brightly.
"Oh, come on, daddy. I know you're not too old to look!"
The doorbell rang. I looked at Amy questioningly, and she motioned me toward the door.
"Uh, huh."
"Uh, huh."
"Uh, huh. I love you, daddy. Enjoy your trip. Looking forward to seeing you when you get back. Bye."
I pulled open the door and found Erin and Jackie standing there. "Merry Christmas! This is a wonderful surprise!"
I heard Amy behind me, "I asked them over for dinner. Aren't you going to invite them in?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah, come on in!" I'd been standing there with a goofy grin on my face, but backed away so they could step inside. "Welcome!" I gave them both a peck on the cheek, and added a warm hug for Erin that I was reluctant to end.
We had a delicious dinner made even better by the presence of friends.
Saturday, Dec. 26
As nice as it had been to see Erin again, and to have company for Christmas, it was also very tiring, and I awoke late to Amy's gentle pestering. She got me moving, and we made it to Parkridge Mall, and the salon with a few minutes to spare. It felt good to be pampered again, and Ellie did her usual marvelous job on my hair. When she was done, you'd never know my hair wasn't naturally ebony, without taking a look at the patch further south. Amy's darker brown roots had grown out considerably, in the two months since it was originally turned golden. With all the stress I'd brought into her life, she hadn't been up to visiting a salon to take care of it. By the time we left, it was all back to the golden hue we'd shared for the costume party.
The following days were quiet, with me resting a lot, but also trying to get gentle exercise so I wouldn't tire so quickly. I spent much of Monday poring over my notes from my last contract, hoping it would be good preparation for the ordeal the next day. I also walked again, this time making it as far as the bench where Paul and I had often met for walking. Of course, he wasn't there. I hadn't expected him to be, but I felt a pang nonetheless. I sat on the bench for a while to regain my breath before slowly walking home.
Tuesday, Dec. 29
After a very restless night, I was up before the alarm. My customary nightmare woke me, but I managed not to scream this time, so Amy was able to sleep through. When Amy got up, I was in the closet pulling one outfit after another off the rod, before putting them back to consider another. Amy calmly hugged me, holding on till I quit fidgeting, and then pulled an attractive navy skirt suit and a white silk blouse out to lay on the bed for me. Just like that, the first crisis of the day was resolved, and I started getting my nerves under control.
I didn't eat much, and spent way too much time showering, fixing my hair, and doing makeup. I was determined to look professional and attractive to lay the groundwork for restarting my career.
I almost chickened out as I sat in my car in the parking lot in front of InfoSource. Every gruesome detail of my last visit to this building flashed through my mind, and when I finally did emerge, I felt like I was slogging through setting concrete to reach the door. Again I clipped my contractors badge on, and did my best to appear confident as I strode past the receptionist with a brief nod.
A tall, ruggedly attractive man with distinguished graying hair met me outside the same conference room that was the setting for that last disastrous meeting.
"Ms. Hastings? I'm Tad Robbins. I'm glad you came today." He shook my hand, and then opened the door for me, ushering me in. When I saw who was already there I might have bolted right back out, but Tad had my escape route blocked. "Ms. Hastings, I'm sure you remember Tom Kirby, and of course, Jeff, the lead engineer on the project. Tom won't be staying for the meeting, but he has something to say to you before he leaves. Tom?"
He was looking distinctly uncomfortable as he rose from his chair at the conference table. "Ms. Hastings. I, um, I'm not quite sure how to apologize to you for what I did last time. It was unforgivable, but I want to express my deep regrets. I do not fully understand what you have been through, but I have learned something of it, and I must say I admire the courage it takes for you to come back here today. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work that needs attending to." With that, he moved carefully past me and out the door.
I hadn't gotten a single word out through my parched throat, and shook my head dazedly after the door closed behind Tom.
"Please, have a seat, Ms. Hastings and lets get down to business."
I collected myself and took the seat he'd pulled out for me, sipping a glass of water set at my place. "Thank-you. And please call me Jamie."
"Jamie it is, then," Tad said as he seated himself. "I hope that wasn't too stressful for you Jamie. Tom needed closure. He had a lot of growing to do after his reprehensible conduct the last time you were here. I do believe he has learned since then, and has become a better employee in the process."
"What do you mean?"
"When we finally learned the details of his last meeting with you, he was given three choices: find another company to work for, with a less than glowing recommendation from us; take a significant cut in salary and job title; or study gender identity disorder, make a presentation to the staff on the subject, and if he did that adequately, be given a parallel transfer to another management position. He chose the latter, gave a credible talk on the subject, and indications are that he has become a better manager for the tolerance and empathy he has learned."
"Wow. I don't know what to say. All of that because of me?"
Tad smiled. "Yes. See how you are helping us out besides just being a technical wizard?" I blushed brightly. "Enough of that. Let's get this thing rolling."
We spent the next few hours poring over the technical details of the dramatically revised project. I could see where the architectural changes they had made would address some of the issues I'd raised, but the project was far too large to take in the full ramifications in such a short time. We wrapped up just before noon, and Tad insisted on taking me to lunch to discuss the non-technical aspects. It was a nice lunch at a quiet, stately, slightly posh restaurant. He showed me a copy of the contract he'd forwarded to my lawyer, and had heard back that Ken should have it reviewed and approved within a couple days.
As we were going our separate directions after lunch, Tad spoke up, "If you don't mind my saying, Jamie, you make a very attractive woman. On the phone you said you were recovering from something serious? Are you well now?"
I smiled ruefully. "While not completely recovered, I am getting better every day, thanks."
"Well, I hope you make a full recovery, and that you take the contract with us. It has been a pleasure meeting you, and I'm sure it will be a pleasure to work with you over the course of this project."
"Thank you. It was good meeting you too, and I'll let you know soon about the contract."
I was exhausted by the time I made it into my car, and just slumped behind the wheel for a few minutes, grateful that I'd been able to make it through the meeting as well as I did.
Wednesday, Dec. 30
Wednesday afternoon found Rick Simmons at our door. Somehow, Amy had talked him into a house call. Last week's appointment was an emotion-wrought recounting of my roller coaster ride of the prior two months. Today, he set out to help me make sense of what had happened, and maybe get a handle on the nightmares. Amy sat in on the session, and Rick let her know where he thought I stood, and what she could be doing to help. I told him that my hormone situation was getting better, and hinted at beginning the journey to restore my male looks. He was firm in his position that I wait till I understood myself better, and used his probing questions to try to let me find that knowledge. Some of the answers I had to give were quite upsetting to me, and I was feeling a little depressed by the time he left, and more than just a bit desperate to end this sojourn as a woman. Amy and I talked that night about my appointment. She understood my desire to speed my return trip, and knew I might ignore Rick's advice and act precipitously. She lovingly made her case for heeding Rick, and wormed a promise out of me that I wouldn't do anything rash.
Thursday, Dec. 31
Ken called the next day, to tell me that he and InfoSource had ironed out a few wrinkles, and that he felt the contract now did a much better job of protecting me in my somewhat delicate position. I made it into his office that afternoon, New Years Eve, reviewed the updates with him, and signed it in triplicate so one copy could be sent off to InfoSource while he and I each retained one.
Amy and I celebrated New Years quietly, together in our own home, with a nice bottle of champagne and some thrilling moments in bed together. I wasn't yet up to full intercourse, but Amy and I both sensed continued improvement, and rejoiced.
The following week included appointments with both the endocrinologist and the psychologist, and represented high and low points for me. I was thrilled that my hormones were trending toward the balance they needed, but came out of the other appointment confused and frustrated. I just was not getting a handle on what I really was. I knew that I wanted to be Amy's husband, yet the more Rick probed, the less sure I was that I wanted to give up this body.
The real high point of the week was the arrival of the signed contract from InfoSource, and Amy and I celebrated my reentry into my chosen career. It would be a week or more before I had what I needed to start really working, but it felt good to be gainfully employed again.
*****************
I stood on the back patio watching our many friends chat and sip drinks. As my gaze roamed from face to familiar face, I wondered where the last five years had gone. That Halloween seemed so long ago, and yet, in some ways it seemed only yesterday.
I smiled as my very favorite face approached me. "Happy Anniversary, Amy!" I said as I pulled her into a tender hug.
"Thanks honey. It's a great party, isn't it?" I had my arm around her as we looked out at the people here for this celebration in the backyard of our dream home.
"Mommy! Mommy!" We both smiled as our three year old daughter, Alexa, arrived at full speed.
"What is it, sweetheart?" Amy asked as I scooped Alexa up in my arms.
She giggled as I hugged her and tickled her at the same time. "Jimmy's playing with his food again!" She pointed at messy-faced little James over at the picnic table.
We both laughed as Amy swooped in on him, pulling him into her arms and nuzzling his neck. "What is Mommy going to do with you, you little scamp?" He howled with laughter as Amy cleaned him up and teased him at the same time.
I squeezed a few more giggles out of our little girl as my thoughts wandered back in time.
****************
It was about four months after my attack. I was mostly recovered, physically, from the stabbing. The news from Dr. Myers had continued to improve each visit, and in the three months since I'd had my genitals released from their temporary captivity, I'd slowly regained my male function, until I'd finally reached the point that I could really make love to Amy again, even if it was breast-to-breast.
The appointments with Rick Simmons were always emotionally draining. I was still frustrated at times by his double-talk, but I stuck it out, knowing I needed help to get through my confusion, and knowing he was among the best available. He made me question everything, and try to fathom the right course for my future. He was adamant that I not have the cosmetic surgery needed to look like a man again until we were satisfied that I really knew whether manhood or womanhood was what I needed. I just knew that I wanted to be Amy's husband, and the father of her children. But he would not waver on the surgery, and Amy made me promise to heed that advice.
So after I had regained the ability to penetrate Amy, we talked over the future, and decided it was time to start our family. I knew I wanted to be a husband again, so I was anxious to get on with it. Amy figured if I didn't make it back, she still wanted my children. Amy stopped taking the pill, and determined when she would be most fertile. The first month, at the appointed time, we had some wonderfully romantic evenings, and did our best to make a baby. But all we had to show for it were memories of delectable nights in bed together.
The next month, when Amy was sure it was the right time, she seduced me wearing some very sheer, very sexy lingerie one evening, and we shared a fantastic night of love. Though we made love every night for a week to try to ensure success, we both are convinced that that was the night our little baby was conceived.
As soon as we knew Amy was pregnant, we both decided the perfect name for a girl child was Alexa, as a tribute to my time in the guise of a woman. We both knew I would be back to being James before much longer. Choosing a name for a boy was much harder.
That was a wonderful time, and with very few exceptions, Amy and I were happy again. The exceptions came in two forms: my appointments with Rick, where he made me question everything, often leaving me depressed for hours or days afterward, and Amy's growing discomfort with making love to me in my feminine form, which only increased my frustration with Rick's stalling.
As was normal for us in all of our marriage, except the time that I ran away, we talked it out. We concluded that Amy was not truly bisexual, and it was only the novelty of the situation, and the knowledge that it was her husband that made our lovemaking enjoyable for her. We were both anxious to put that phase of our lives behind us.
It was a wonderful experience being with Amy as Alexa was born, other than having to watch my soul mate suffer the exhaustion and pain of the delivery. As we held our newborn little girl, all the pain was washed away in the love we felt for this new life we had created.
It is one of my greatest regrets that I was unable to be there for little Jimmy's birth.
********************
Alexa's squirming in my arms brought me back to the present, and I let her down to scamper off, yelling, "Look! Aunt Erin's here!"
I looked off in the direction Alexa was pointing while she ran, and saw the cute, tiny dynamo coming out of the house, cuddling a little bundle in her arms. Before I could go greet my her, another of my friends stepped up and claimed my attention.
"Hi, buddy!"
"Hey, Dan! Glad you came. How are you doing?"
"I'm doing just great. And I'm glad you invited me. It's been a while."
Yes, it had been quite a while. It was really kind of funny how Dan had become a good friend. Funny and sad at the same time.
********************
As our first child grew within Amy, I continued my visits with Dr. Simmons. I felt like I was OK, ready to end the weekly sessions, and get on with becoming James again. My nightmares had finally abated, and I was certain which course I should follow. But Rick didn't waver, and Amy, afraid of a possible repeat of my disappearance, agreed with him. So, to keep her happy, I continued.
Rick felt I still had gender issues I at least had to understand and accept before I made a final decision to be male. He insisted that I should live for a time as a woman. Well, OK. I had been for almost a year by then, inhabiting this beautiful body that circumstance and Sandy had given me. But no, it wasn't enough to just inhabit. I may have had a beautiful body, but I wasn't experiencing a female life. I was taking the "safe" way out, living with my wife and avoiding the social interactions he felt I needed before I could fully understand my future.
So, with Amy's loving support, I began to get out more into social settings. We again went out as two women to places where there were people to interact with, including dance clubs as we had back when all this started. I mostly talked with Amy, and danced with her, as two girls are wont to do. But she insisted I dance with others too, as Rick had advised.
It was one those evenings that we met Dan. He asked me to dance, and Amy urged me on. He spent a lot of time with us that night, dancing with me, occasionally getting Amy onto the dance floor, and talking with both of us. He was very nice, and the conversation came easily. He and I shared many interests, giving us things to talk about. When he asked for my number so he could call me, a glance at Amy told me to go ahead, so I gave it to him.
A few days later he called, and asked me out. Of course, he didn't know about my gender or my relationship with Amy. We had a fun evening, and shared a few gentle kisses, and it was nice, but no more than that. We had several more dates over the next several weeks, but at my insistence, we never got too intimate. Dan was a good guy. He didn't press the issue, but kept coming back for more. For my part, I enjoyed the time, but still had found nothing to convince me that being Amy's husband was not my future.
Dan said he had a good friend, and would like to have Amy accompany us on a double date with his friend Phil. Amy was reluctant, but my guilt over "cheating" on her by dating eventually convinced her to go along. It was enjoyable, though Amy was even less receptive to Phil's advances than I was to Dan's. But Phil was as nice as his friend, and didn't push the issue. One double date led to another, and then a few more. It was all good, mostly innocent fun. I also had several single dates with Dan, but Amy never went out with Phil unless we doubled.
Over time, Amy took her lead from me, and would let Phil do with her about what I was letting Dan do with me, so she shared a few kisses, and there was some cuddling and light petting. After a time, Amy called it quits, citing her advancing pregnancy, and turned down any suggested outings. I had realized that there just was not a serious romantic interest for me with Dan, but my connection with Amy made me aware that she was not quite as indifferent to Phil.
At any rate, Dan's attempt at romancing me evolved into friendship, with mutual agreement that we were not made for each other, in a romantic sense. We did occasionally do things together; but it was more like two buddies than as a couple, even including Phil at times. Often, when we three did something, Phil would ask about Amy, and I sensed he hoped that she would come around some day. Amy and I continued to talk, as was our custom, so she was fully aware that there was no romance between Dan and I, while I was aware she had quit seeing Phil because there was some interest, and she wanted to remain faithful to our marriage.
Not long after that, Dan met that someone special, and we had seen little of each other since, though we did keep each other up-to-date with the major changes in our lives. And our friendship had managed to survive.
********************
I shook myself free of my reverie, only to realize Dan had wandered on to talk to someone else while I was immersed in the past. I noticed Sandy greeting Amy, who gave her a slightly impersonal hug before moving on to another guest, leaving Sandy watching sadly after her.
I moved quietly beside her and said, "Hi Sandy. Glad you made it."
She smiled ruefully. "Hello, friend. I see she still hasn't forgiven me."
When my adventure started, Sandy and Amy had been best friends, while Sandy had despised me because I was a man. My trial by femininity had been intended to reduce the friction between her and me. The irony was that now, with the challenge long over, Sandy and I were pretty good friends, while Amy wanted nothing to do with her.
"Give her time, Sandy. It's not so much that she blames you for all we went through, as seeing you makes her feel guilty all over again. She's smart. She'll work it out one of these days, and you two will be thick as thieves again."
"I hope so. This sure isn't the outcome I had in mind when I came up with that stupid idea."
I decided to change the subject. "So, how's California? Is it as good as everyone says?" Sandy had moved her practice to L.A. after things got strained between her and Amy.
"Some good, some bad, just like everywhere. Business is great though." I knew that her reputation as a plastic surgeon had grown since the move, and she had all the patients she could handle.
"And what's this I hear about a man? Anything serious?"
She blushed. "Maybe. He just might be THE ONE, but I'm taking it pretty slow. You taught me that men aren't all bad, but I have a lot of history to get past, you know?"
Sandy wandered off to talk to another friend she hadn't seen for a while, so I refocused on Erin and smiled brightly as I made my way over to her. I kissed her on the cheek and looked down at the cute little baby she held. "Hi, Erin! How's the little one?" I asked as I gave Erin a friendly hug.
"Hey yourself!" She had a big smile on her face, and returned my hug. "She's great! I can't believe it's already been two months since the adoption became final. She's such a good baby, healthy, happy, almost never cries. I just love being a mother."
You could tell that just by looking at her. She seemed to glow, even in the light cast by the bright sun of the desert autumn. Of course, she'd been glowing since she'd taken the final step to being whole more than three years ago. She'd finally given in to my insistence that I wanted to help her financially to take that last step to womanhood. And that I wanted to be there with her as she took it. So I'd arranged my work to take a couple weeks away, and traveled with her to Chicago, Illinois for her appointment with her destiny and one of the top surgeons in the field. In spite of the pain and inconvenience she suffered for weeks afterward, the glow had been ignited, and has been a given since then, only increasing in intensity at her marriage last year, and now again with the adoption of their first child.
Thinking of her wedding, I asked, "Where's the proud papa?"
Erin grinned that irrepressible grin and said, "Oh, he sent me on ahead. He's trying to get all the baby paraphernalia out of the car."
About that time, I heard a clatter from inside the house, and saw Paul dumping a pile of baby things on the kitchen table before joining us, hugging Erin from behind and kissing her on the cheek while gazing adoringly at the child his wife held.
"Hey Paul!" I saw the look in his eyes as he gazed down at his little one.
"Howdy." He couldn't be distracted from what was important in his life right now, but he did give me a friendly squeeze on the shoulder.
"She's a little cutie, isn't she?"
"Sure is!" he said as he stroked the baby's cheek.
"I meant Erin, not the baby!"
We all had a good laugh, but Paul came back, "Yeah, that too."
As Paul and Erin moved on to greet others, I again drifted into the past.
********************
Paul hadn't been comfortable with what I'd become after I abandoned Amy. My wild ways, dancing as a stripper, sexual encounters with several men, being paid for sex, and living with and being intimate with Erin was just not behavior he could accept. Go figure! I did not see him for a long time after those few times in the hospital. He had fallen in love with an idealized Jamie, and found that I had feet of clay. It was more than a year later before I saw him again.
By that time, I'd gotten my consulting business back on its feet, and gone through the non-romance with Dan, as well as a few other dates encouraged by Rick Simmons and Amy. I'd gotten back into the habit of walking not long after returning home to Amy, and always felt a tug at my heart as I walked by the bench where I'd first seen Paul, and where we'd met frequently after that to walk together. In all the time I'd been back home, he had never shown up at the bench.
But one day, that changed. That day, as I approached the spot, there he was, doing his warm-up stretches, and I stopped some distance back to drink in the sight of him. I couldn't understand my quickened pulse, or the feeling of light-heartedness that came over me. I wasn't sure if I should run away, just walk quietly past, or say hi to him. But there was only one choice I could make. So I approached quietly, and meekly said, "Hi, Paul."
He turned to look at me, and I feared seeing a look of revulsion on his face. But after a few moments of terrifying suspense, he smiled his crooked little smile that had so often melted my heart and quietly said, "It's good to see you again, Jamie. How have you been?"
We walked together, and though the conversation was a bit rocky at first, punctuated by long stretches of silence, by the time we finished our two circuits, we'd mostly caught up with each others lives for the past year, and much of the awkwardness between us had faded.
I walked almost every day, and saw Paul several times that week. When my next appointment with Rick Simmons rolled around, he detected a difference in me, one that I myself either didn't recognize, or refused to acknowledge. Over a couple weeks, he dug with his annoying questions, circling the issue, attacking from different angles until he pried the gem of truth from me, and made me focus on why I seemed to feel a bit different lately.
That had been the beginning of the end for James, though it took some time before I realized it. Months passed, and I am quite sure that Amy picked up on it before I did. When I finally broke down in her arms and cried, admitting that I couldn't go back to being James, she was not surprised, though she was still saddened, crying along with me for the loss she knew was coming.
Within another month, Dr. Myers had me back on hormone therapy, and all my hard-fought inches back toward masculinity faded away in what seemed like no time. I did not discuss my decision with anyone but Amy and my doctors. Paul and I saw each other often as we walked, and occasionally met for lunch when I had reason to be downtown, but neither of us tried to advance a relationship past our renewed friendship.
The day I told Paul I would be out of town for a few weeks, I stepped close to him, pulling his head down into a lingering kiss. Paul did not respond at first, but soon all the hunger he'd suppressed for so long came alive in that exchange.
It was two years, almost to the day, after I'd been stabbed and left for dead that James did die under the knife of the same well-known surgeon that had completed my friend Erin several months prior. Amy was at my side, trying to be strong as she watched her dreams sliced away. As I recovered, I was incredibly sad for what I'd lost with Amy, yet at the same time I felt a serenity, a completeness, as if something I'd been missing my whole life had been found.
The surgery took a lot out of me, and it took time to recover. When I did get back to walking, I tired quickly, and Paul was concerned with my health. I told him I was fine, just worn out, and made no reference to my radical change. Now, however, each time we walked, I made sure I got at least one kiss from Paul, be it just a peck on the cheek, or a long intense one, with gradually increasing passion on both our parts.
A few months after the surgery, I was back up to full strength, and a confused Paul was sinking again into love with me, and afraid to question my relationship with Amy. On occasion, I'd have Paul back to our house for coffee after the walk. One glorious day, I made my move. I sat close to Paul as we talked and sipped coffee. When the beverage was gone, I kissed him, putting as much passion into that act as I was able. I circled my arms around his neck, holding him tight, and mashing my breasts against his hard chest. Then, without a word, I stood, took him by the hand and led him to the bedroom.
As I slowly undressed down to my panties, I could feel Paul's eyes on me. I had never been this naked in his sight before. Then I started on his clothing, until he was even more naked than I. Each time he started to speak, I shushed him, or silenced him with ever more passionate kisses. Pushing him down on the bed, I straddled him, kissing his lips, then scattering kisses across his neck, his firm chest and rippled stomach, working my way down to his maleness. By the time I reached that point, I was sure of Paul's interest by the rigidity of his member. After licking and sucking him to even greater stiffness, I worked my way back up his body to claim his lips once again. Slipping my panties aside, I moved his sword into position below my untried sheath, and groaned out loud as I descended, sliding his weapon home.
Paul's eyes were wide with amazement as he realized just what had happened, but I gave him no chance to ponder or comment, as I sealed his mouth with a deep kiss and set a gradually increasing rhythm that effectively halted all higher brain function inside his ruggedly handsome head. My rational thought faded within moments as well, and what remained were two almost civilized animals performing the mating dance that is as old as the species. My second orgasm came at almost the same instant as Paul reached climax, and when it faded I collapsed on top of this delicious man.
That was the only time we made love. We continued to meet to walk, and occasionally met for lunch, but Paul always managed to avoid my attempts to kiss him, or to be intimate. We still talked, and gradually he helped me see that what he felt for me was not romantic love. And slowly I came to accept it and value his friendship.
********************
A tear dripping down my cheek brought me back to the present. I glanced around quickly to see if anyone had noticed as I surreptitiously brushed it away. Across the yard I recognized a man and wondered how he got here. I didn't invite him. Maybe he came with one of the girls that had been invited. It was my old friend Rob, the man that had made a whore out of me. But that thought led to another, which in turn forced a giggle between my lips.
********************
It was a while after my one tryst with Paul, and I was lonely. Amy was still loving, in a platonic way, but was increasingly spending more time with other people. I dated on occasion, and even shared a few nights with guys or girls, but it wasn't enough. In looking for ways to enjoy life again, I thought back to my days as a stripper, and the thrill I'd felt teasing the guys in the audience, and feeling the tingle of sexual excitement running through my body. The Lariat Club was just the same when I arrived one evening. I'd dressed up nice and sexy, and gone back to see how it felt. I was a little past the prime for a stripper, but my body was tight and had all the right curves. The doctors had done an excellent job with my stab wound, and it was barely noticeable, even close up. I thought about seeing if Bill still ran the place, and might need another dancer part time.
The new manager didn't know me, and none of the dancers were still there from my stint at the club. I didn't get much encouragement when I asked about dancing again. Ah, well. Such is life.
I found a table and ordered a glass of wine to sip as I enjoyed the show. My body and mind may be nearly female now, but I still got turned on by a good-looking woman. As I watched, a man approached, and asked to join me. Son of a gun if it wasn't Rob, the one guy I'd gone home from the club with. I doubt he'd have recognized me a week after our "date", so I wasn't surprised he didn't seem to know me now.
"Sure, have a seat. Let me buy you a drink!" I signaled a waitress. "I'll have another white wine, please, and a glass of Jameson's for my friend here."
Rob showed his surprise. "How'd you know that Jameson's is my drink? Do I know you?"
I didn't answer directly. "You just look like the kind of guy that goes for the best." We watched the dancers, talked a little, and I bought him several more drinks. Finally, on toward closing, I whispered in his ear and when he nodded, led him out of the club. He tried to take me to his new Jag, but I shook my head. "Hold up there, tiger. You've had a bit to drink tonight. Let me be your designated driver." I led him past his car to my Lexus. Not quite in a class with his Jag, but it suited me.
I took him home, and had my way with him, doing a better job than the last time since I had the right plumbing now. After the first few orgasms, we slept for a while before I mounted him and rode him hard sometime in the night. He returned the favor as the sun rose, and then we showered together before dressing. I drove him back to his car, then insisted on opening the door for him, and used his keys to open up his Jag. He found this all very amusing from a beautiful girl, and chuckled wryly. Once he'd slid behind the wheel, I leaned to give him a deep kiss, and stuffed five crisp hundred-dollar bills into his shirt pocket before saying, "Thanks for the great night, babe," as I shut his door and then walked back to my car. I grinned all the way home. Of course, he probably didn't realize I'd just returned the favor, but even if he did, he'd probably feel pride rather than the shame I'd felt.
********************
Coming out of my reverie with a bright smile on my painted lips, I tracked down Amy again. She'd finished cleaning little James, and was speaking with Erin and Paul. Behind her stood a tall ruggedly handsome man with his arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her back against him as he lightly rested his chin in the still golden hair at the back of her head.
"Hey, Phil, Happy Anniversary!" I chirped with a cheerfulness I didn't feel as I came up beside the couple.
"Thanks, Jamie. Great party! Thanks for doing this for us."
"My pleasure." I felt my control slipping, and knew I had to get away before my smile dissolved in tears. "Excuse me. I have to get some more food from the kitchen." With deliberate speed, I made my way to the house, struggling to maintain my composure. Slipping into the deserted house, I all but ran to the bathroom, locking the door behind me and collapsing on the commode as the tears came.
There was no denying I felt more complete as a woman, but despite that, I wanted what that man had! I wanted Amy's love. To be fair, I still had her love, and the deep bond we'd shared almost from the day we'd met. But I wanted the passionate physical love we'd had before that fateful Halloween challenge. I wanted it all. And the realization that I could never have that again was a bitter pill to swallow.
********************
It was very shortly after I'd resumed hormone therapy. The hormones seemed to rob me of my erections more quickly the second time around. Amy knew this was forever, that she would never have heterosexual sex with me again, and that made all the difference in our love life. The first time, we'd believed it was temporary, and with the novelty of my changed appearance, and the sure knowledge that it was her male husband inside the sexy female body, Amy had taken to pseudo-lesbian love with a passion. Much later, she came to realize that making love to a woman's body was not right for her, but she kept it up, willingly, because it was still her husband, and he was in the process of becoming her man again. But the second time, the novelty was gone, it was no longer temporary, and I would soon no longer be any kind of a husband. Nearly as soon as I lost the ability to penetrate her, all sexual relations ended between us, though we did still cuddle, kiss, touch, and love. But things had changed. Permanently.
Sometime before my surgery, Amy started seeing men again; sometimes double dating with me, sometimes alone. A couple months later, she ran into Phil again, and they went out.
It was about this time that Amy and I left town for a week. I was still somewhat male when we left, but when we returned, I was about as female as a skilled surgeon could make me. We had discussed it in the past, but on those occasions neither of us wanted to face the fact that our marriage was ending. The surgery was the final nail in the coffin, and we quietly completed our legal divorce soon after we returned, even though we continued to live together and sleep in the same bed. I didn’t begrudge Amy the chance to find happiness again. Despite her assertion so long ago that she would still love me just the same if I became Jamie completely, I’d held no illusions about this. I knew enough about her to realize there was no lesbian or even bi tendency in her. Even though she had a soul-deep love for me, that was not enough to let us remain lovers in my current state.
A few weeks later, she'd spent the night with Phil, and I was forced to accept that she'd found another source of the physical love I could no longer supply. She started spending a lot of time with Phil, and several months after I became a woman, she and Phil married in a quiet civil ceremony. I had not been present at the ceremony. Not that I was specifically excluded. No one was there except a JP and a couple of nameless witnesses.
Amy and Phil had a very small reception after their wedding. Just a few friends. And me. I had persuaded my two best friends, apart from Amy, to come along for moral support. It was the first time Paul and Erin had seen each other since I'd been in the hospital. But it was not the last. Paul knew that Erin had been born male, but by then, she was as completely female as modern medicine could make her, and more attractive physically and by way of personality than most natural women. They got to talking, at least during the times I wasn't clinging to them, trying to maintain my composure.
That was two years ago today. I had thought that by now I could handle this, and so had convinced them to let me throw an anniversary celebration for them.
Amy moved out of our dream home when she'd remarried, and into a nearby house that she and Phil had found. There was no wrangling over custody of Alexa. Amy and I knew and loved each other well enough that we shared easily. With me working at home most of the time, I took care of Alexa during the day, with the help of a nanny. With my flexible schedule, I was able to change her diapers, play with her, and feed her most any time I wanted, just adjusting my work around it. I had the joy of finding her first tooth, watching her take her first step, and hearing her first word. The nanny looked after her during times I spent at my computer, or when I needed to leave the house for work or shopping.
Much of the time that Amy was off work, Alexa spent with Phil and her. Phil is a good man. He is able to fill the father role for Alexa as I no longer can, and I am grateful for that, even though it hurts. It especially hurts now that Phil and Amy had little James, and Alexa has started calling Phil daddy, while I have become Aunt Jamie. It is probably for the best, since it will make her life easier at school and with her friends. Besides, Amy and I are very much like sisters now, with all the love and sharing that a good sibling relationship implies, so aunt seems like the right title.
Paul and Erin began dating soon after the reception, and got on famously. Their wedding six months later was at least a little easier for me than Amy's. I was so happy for both of them, as I love them both dearly. But my heart felt a few twinges as it sank in that I'd irrevocably lost any chance with Paul too. Then again, it is easier to free what you never really had than that which you thought was yours forever.
********************
After drying my tears and repairing my makeup, I made my way to the kitchen, to fulfill the excuse I'd used to escape. My step faltered as I saw Amy waiting for me, leaning on the kitchen counter. She can see right through me, and I noted her concerned expression as she realized I had been crying.
She hugged me tightly, and asked, "Oh, sweetheart. Are you alright?" She hugged me fiercely, and I felt the love she still held for me ease the pain just a little.
I noticed she was wearing the ring I gave her for that last Christmas we shared. I knew it signified the love we still share, and that eased my pain a little. With difficulty, I manage to answer, "Yeah, fine." But we both knew it was a lie. She held me for a long time.
Finally, I manage to whisper, "Amy, are you happy? Do you love him?"
She kissed my cheek, and then held me away, looking deep into my eyes. "Yes, for the most part I am happy. And yes, I love him. But it's not like the deep intense love that I had for James. That was one of a kind." She continued to look into my eyes. "How about you? Do you think you can be happy again some day?"
"I hope so. I don't know. Maybe. There'll never be another you. And Paul was special. And he came along at just the right time to let me love him. I don't know if I can love another man. Or another woman, for that matter. But I have hope. And I will always have you." I tried to put on a brave smile. "I just wish I hadn't had to give up so very much to have this feeling of rightness. I had to give up my heart to become whole, but how can I be whole without a heart?"